"I'd..." He starts to say I'd like that, but it's not true, not even as a polite pleasantry. He doesn't want to know medicine. He doesn't ever again want to see blood, to stitch a wound, to feel rent flesh beneath his fingertips.

"That's probably for the best," he says instead, relentlessly practical so that he doesn't start screaming or sobbing. He's trapped in a nightmare and he's so tired. "I'm sure I'll pick something up as I assist you. There are plenty of injuries to tend."

Closing his eyes for a moment, Huaisang breathes deeply, fighting back the impulse to sob and scream and curl up. If he closes his eyes, none of this will be real. He'll be a child again, and everyone will be alive, and there will be nothing to fear.

Rising to his feet, he offers a pleasant smile. "Let's drink this coffee and get started, shall we?"