Dr. Mori was busy with his croissant and freshly brewed coffee when Damien came into view, followed by the young Doctor he hired. He wiped the side of his mouth with a Paper towel and stood from his chair. He noticed how the young doctor stared wide-eyed at the tree before him. Dr. Mori smiled and looked up. The tree was truly majestic, only a blind man won't find himself musing at its magnificence.
     
Noting their distance, Dr. Mori brought his face down, ready to give a warm greeting, only to come face to face with Damien. The man stood too close to him; their nose almost touching each others. A grunt from the old doctor forced the large man to take a step back. "Damien, how many times have I reminded you of personal space," the doctor asked angrily. Damien lowered his gaze and replied, "Many times doctor."
      
Dr. Mori shook his head briefly and then gawked at the big man. "You will be punished for this," he said.
      
Zackary who was silently listening to the conversation, suddenly felt a wave of pity for the big man, seeing how his eyes were filled with dread by the later comment. Confusingly though, he couldn't phantom how a man that big, quivered in fear before his old superior. Clearly, the difference in their strength was overwhelming, but the wounds on Damien's hands somehow proved Mori's ability to nullify any thoughts of retaliation on Damien's side. Zackary couldn’t even begin to imagine the kinds of punishments Mori must have subjected the big man to, in order to elicit such fear from him.
     
Waving his hand, Dr. Mori commanded Damien to leave, and Zackary watched him come about, fidgeting, pace slow, head bowed while rubbing his still fresh wounds. The big man was probably thinking about his upcoming punishment, Zackary thought as he kept a steady gaze on the retreating figure. Too consumed with his musings, Zackary failed to notice how the old doctor's gaze switched to him.
     
"You do not approve?"
     
The words brought Zackary back to his superior. "It's not that I don't," the young doctor answered, his gaze still locked towards the retreating giant.
      
"It's alright,” Dr. Mori replied as he sat on his chair.
     
"Compassion is a good trait given our profession, but it would be best to tone it down under certain circumstances because too much transparency may hinder your work," Mori added.
     
"What do you mean," Zackary asked. The doctor took his eyes away from him and stared at the horizon.
"You kept frowning the whole time," his superior replied.
     
Zackary sighed; he didn't even know he was frowning. He took a seat across from Dr. Mori and placed his tray on the table. "We are the readers' dear boy, not the other way around,” the doctor continued. Zackary nodded in response and mutely poked at his already cold lunch.
     
Silence reigned between the two. Only the continuous humming of wind interrupted by chirping birds lingered in the space between them. Dr. Mori, eyes fixed on the horizon broke the silence. "What are human beings to you doctor?" he asked, startling the young man who was busy drinking from a cup.
     
Zackary looked up at his employer whose eyes were still fixed on the sky.
     
"Fascinating existence," Zackary answered. His reply was immediate but less thought off.
     
Dr. Mori then lowered his gaze to look at him, "Really, what made you say so?" he questioned.
     
Zackary stiffened, run a finger on his ebony locks, closed his eyes, gave his shoulders a quick roll and attempted to explain his opinion. But before he could even begin, a chuckle from the old doctor disrupted his I'm coming words.
     
"Take another deep breath son, this is not a test," Mori spoke with assurance as he eyed the young man.
     
It took a while before Zackary opened his mouth again. In his mind he kept reprimanding himself. Why does he keep acting like a scared dumb brat in front of the Doctor? It felt like an unseen force was keeping him from acting like the intelligent man that he was. He knew all too well the rules of being an effective psychiatrist. He practically ate the pages of his books. Every word was memorized and thoroughly imprinted in his memory. Was it the serenity of the place that made his usually attentive mind relax? Or did he become too relaxed because he landed a job beyond his expectations? How was he supposed to regain his footing when every time the doctor gave comments or questions—he would fidget and left with scrambled thoughts?

Dr. Mori may not have intended for his words to intimidate or pressure him, but Zackary couldn't help but hate on himself. He wanted to give a good impression, he wanted to amaze the doctor—yet, he kept failing to do so.
     
He took a deep breath and began remembering what he learned at school. Though safe answers were not meant to amaze him, they could redeem him in some way. "Well according to the study of," he began, but he was instantly muted when Dr. Mori raised his hand to stop him.
     
Eyes questioning, Zackary swallowed his remaining words. “I asked you, doctor. I don't need someone else's opinion," Mori stated, still with his hand raised—intended to quiet him down. Zackary once again felt an aching knot on his stomach and a lump on his throat. He bowed his head and clenched his jaw as he threw mute curses on himself.
Suddenly, the old doctor leaned on the table to bridge the gap between them. With a calm tone, the doctor repeated his question.

"I would like to know what you think," Mori said, emphasizing the word you.
     
Zackary found his face too close to his, he could almost see the lines that formed his wrinkles. The black orbs behind the old doctor's glasses gave foreign intimidation. Zackary was never one to be intimidated. He always basked on the knowledge that he was an intelligent man, and could very well rival anyone. But then, under the piercing gaze of the veteran, Zackary found himself a mute moron. Of course, the old doctor wanted Zackary’s own take on the question at hand. It would rather be inappropriate to answer him with someone else's opinion on the matter. But he felt beaten and wanted to be safe.
     
"So young man," the doctor continued. "What are human beings to you?" answer me with your heart, not your head.
     
With everything running through his head, Zackary allowed silence to consume them once more. He kept silent, and brought his cup back to his mouth, tasting the sweet liquid, allowing it to quench the thirst caused by his raging emotion, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to release the tension in his body. He took that moment to chastise himself. No more dwelling in excitement about his foreseen bright future, and just allowed himself to free whatever doubts he still had about himself. When he opened those obsidian orbs again, Dr. Mori was taken aback, newfound determination but glazed with serenity was what he saw emanating behind the young man's eyes. Mori couldn't help but smile, he was right all along. There was something about the young doctor. A drive that became elusive despite

Mori's persistent acquisition in the past ten years. The veteran's quest to impart his long-earned knowledge that was threatened by an illness seemed fruitful after all. Zackary must live up to his expectations, no questions asked. Selfish yes, but he was running out of time.
     
"Dr. Mori,” Zackary began, "I find humans fascinating simply because they fascinate me. But if I have to explain myself, it's because humans are tough, and yet, they break easy, we long for love, but deny ourselves just as much."
     
"We forgive, yet keep a lingering urge for revenge, we listen, but most of the time, half-heartedly so. We are a conflicted existence, pulling and pushing at the same time, yet, despite all these, some manage to reach the peak and others dwindle below. Some finish the race while others falter. I want to know, I want to understand, I want to—Unable to finish his words—Zackary huffed and threw the old doctor a wry smile.
     
"I want..."
     
"Knowledge?" the old doctor interrupted. Zackary stared at Mori with hungry eyes. "Yes," he answered. "I may not be certain about many things Dr. Mori, but I want to learn, I love to learn, I want to understand."
     
Zackary waited for a reply, but the old doctor put on a stoic face. After a minute or so, Dr. Mori pushed his chair away from the table, wiped the sweat that accumulated behind his spectacles and gazed at the young man. "That's what human beings are son," he finally replied.
     
"We seek knowledge, whether it be life, love, nature, everything, and everyone. The universe made us curious beings." The old doctor by then was on his feet, he turned his back on the young man and walked away."
     
"I will impart my knowledge young man, and the dark answer to a question every man in history has been seeking, the answer that lay rest in room 304 of Hospisyo Estrella,” he mused while staring at the unopened window of the third floor.