Yasashi Kedo, Sukoshi Baka - 1/?
Summery: AU Sakuraiba. Sho’s a doctor at a prestigious hospital who just so happens to fall in love with one of his patients. The patient’s name? Aiba Masaki. He’s nice, but a little stupid.
A/n - Wow, it's been so long since I started this fic that I can't believe I am finally posting it!! This story popped into my head one morning just as I was waking up, completely surprising me. I spent 40 minutes imagining it, and when I finally rose, I set to work. I wrote the entire day (which has never happened). This fic possessed me. It came from somewhere way beyond my reckoning and took hold of me and since then has yet to let me go. I finished a 4x3 notebook in a week (my usual instrument) when normally it takes me months to do so. Unfortunately, this was in the middle of Mood Bulb, and I had a deadline to make, so I put this one on the back burner, much as I hated to. It's since then taken me a long time to get back into it, but I can safely say that I have returned! I love this fic, more than I ever loved Mood Bulb (!!)-- and therefore I hope you will too. ^.^
Now! Enough of my rambling! Without further ado, Yasashi Kedo, Sukoshi Baka (Nice, and a Little Stupid). Enjoy~!
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Yasashi Kedo, Sukoshi Baka
(Nice, and a Little Stupid)
1.
“Sensei!” a voice called as I jogged up to the stretcher, where an unconscious man was being rushed to the emergency room, “Thank you for coming when-”
“Talk to me.”
The nurse who I had interrupted looked offended for a moment, but I was in no mood to feel apologetic. All things considered, I shouldn’t be here. I’d just finished my shift. I was hungry, I was grumpy, but most of all, I was exhausted. I’d been on call for the past 18 hours. But that was the problem with being understaffed.
“Well?” I snapped. The nurse jumped a bit, and then began reciting the information I was looking for.
“Male, 22 years old. Collapsed suddenly this evening at about 21:50 hours. Shallow breathing, accelerated heartbeat. We think his lung might have collapsed.”
“Did the family mention anything like this happening before?”
“There was one incident-about 2 weeks ago-he complained his chest was hurting him and he was having trouble breathing, but they said it passed in a few minutes so they didn’t have him examined. He’d been lifting something heavy, they said.”
I nodded, panting slightly and struggling to keep up with the stretcher. I’d never been good at running, and especially not when I was this tired. But I wasn’t thinking about that. I was wondering why his family had waited until he had collapsed to call for medical assistance. A healthy young man shouldn’t have any problems lifting things.
“His heart rate is dropping!” I was snapped out of my musings by the nurse’s panic-laced voice.
“Give him a dose of adrenaline and get the IV ready. I want him on life support asap!” We had arrived at the operating room. As I slipped the blue gloves and mask on, I continued to bark orders.
“Oxygen! What’s his blood pressure?”
“60/45 and falling.”
“He’s going into shock-stabilize him! Starting surgery at 22:15 hours.”
For the first time since the incident, I looked down at my patient to slip the oxygen mask over his nose. An arm shot out and a hand grabbed my forearm, startling me. His grip was abnormally strong for a person on the verge of consciousness. The man’s eyes opened just a crack, peering at me from behind death’s veil.
“Don’t let me die,” he whispered weakly. For a moment I stared, shocked by his ability to speak. I was surprised he was still lucid. It must have been painful, considering that an eerie wheezing sound accompanied every shallow breath he took. Nevertheless, he took a large gulp of air, body trembling with the effort, and forced himself to speak.
“Don’t let me die.”
His voice was stronger this time. Not louder, just stronger. It seemed he had overdone it, however, because before I could shake my surprise and respond the way I was trained to (“There, there…Aiba-san? You have nothing to worry about. We’ll take good care of you.”), his eyes rolled back and he slipped into unconsciousness.
I was exhausted past mere sleep deprivation, and the surgery was difficult, but the young man’s words, which continued to resonate through my mind as I worked, kept my fingers nimble and my instincts sharp. When finally it was over, I heaved a relieved sigh, thankful that his vitals were doing much better now and that the surgery had gone smoothly. I surveyed the sleeping figure in front of me as I slipped off my mask and bloody gloves.
“You’re okay now,” I murmured, low so as not to be heard by the other nurses, “I’ve kept my promise.”
---
Looking back on it now, I suppose I never did promise the man anything. But when he had looked up at me with those distant, pleading eyes of his and asked for me to save him, I had felt required to fulfill his wish. Well, my duty as a doctor was to do exactly that, regardless, but the drive I had felt to save him had been so much stronger than normal.
I realized later that it had been the way he had asked, implying that there was something he had to live for. I couldn’t help but wonder what that something was. Though I admit that even then, when I was but a stranger to him, he fascinated me.
---
A/n- (yes, another one--I have been silent on this site for too long, it seems ;D) I feel the need to mention that I know next to nothing about medical jargon or procedures or…anything, really. I tried to make it sound convincing with minimum research (I hate research. :P). Crap is most likely wrong, and I apologize for that. However, this fic is not an episode of ER (this chapter is really the only technical one actually..) Of course if anyone wants to give me tips/info or anything, I’m all for it. Other than that, I hope you all enjoyed it! I'll be posting chapter 2 soon, so get ready for spit balls and Egyption Rat Screw! ^.^v
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Next Chapter
A/n - Wow, it's been so long since I started this fic that I can't believe I am finally posting it!! This story popped into my head one morning just as I was waking up, completely surprising me. I spent 40 minutes imagining it, and when I finally rose, I set to work. I wrote the entire day (which has never happened). This fic possessed me. It came from somewhere way beyond my reckoning and took hold of me and since then has yet to let me go. I finished a 4x3 notebook in a week (my usual instrument) when normally it takes me months to do so. Unfortunately, this was in the middle of Mood Bulb, and I had a deadline to make, so I put this one on the back burner, much as I hated to. It's since then taken me a long time to get back into it, but I can safely say that I have returned! I love this fic, more than I ever loved Mood Bulb (!!)-- and therefore I hope you will too. ^.^
Now! Enough of my rambling! Without further ado, Yasashi Kedo, Sukoshi Baka (Nice, and a Little Stupid). Enjoy~!
---
Yasashi Kedo, Sukoshi Baka
(Nice, and a Little Stupid)
1.
“Sensei!” a voice called as I jogged up to the stretcher, where an unconscious man was being rushed to the emergency room, “Thank you for coming when-”
“Talk to me.”
The nurse who I had interrupted looked offended for a moment, but I was in no mood to feel apologetic. All things considered, I shouldn’t be here. I’d just finished my shift. I was hungry, I was grumpy, but most of all, I was exhausted. I’d been on call for the past 18 hours. But that was the problem with being understaffed.
“Well?” I snapped. The nurse jumped a bit, and then began reciting the information I was looking for.
“Male, 22 years old. Collapsed suddenly this evening at about 21:50 hours. Shallow breathing, accelerated heartbeat. We think his lung might have collapsed.”
“Did the family mention anything like this happening before?”
“There was one incident-about 2 weeks ago-he complained his chest was hurting him and he was having trouble breathing, but they said it passed in a few minutes so they didn’t have him examined. He’d been lifting something heavy, they said.”
I nodded, panting slightly and struggling to keep up with the stretcher. I’d never been good at running, and especially not when I was this tired. But I wasn’t thinking about that. I was wondering why his family had waited until he had collapsed to call for medical assistance. A healthy young man shouldn’t have any problems lifting things.
“His heart rate is dropping!” I was snapped out of my musings by the nurse’s panic-laced voice.
“Give him a dose of adrenaline and get the IV ready. I want him on life support asap!” We had arrived at the operating room. As I slipped the blue gloves and mask on, I continued to bark orders.
“Oxygen! What’s his blood pressure?”
“60/45 and falling.”
“He’s going into shock-stabilize him! Starting surgery at 22:15 hours.”
For the first time since the incident, I looked down at my patient to slip the oxygen mask over his nose. An arm shot out and a hand grabbed my forearm, startling me. His grip was abnormally strong for a person on the verge of consciousness. The man’s eyes opened just a crack, peering at me from behind death’s veil.
“Don’t let me die,” he whispered weakly. For a moment I stared, shocked by his ability to speak. I was surprised he was still lucid. It must have been painful, considering that an eerie wheezing sound accompanied every shallow breath he took. Nevertheless, he took a large gulp of air, body trembling with the effort, and forced himself to speak.
“Don’t let me die.”
His voice was stronger this time. Not louder, just stronger. It seemed he had overdone it, however, because before I could shake my surprise and respond the way I was trained to (“There, there…Aiba-san? You have nothing to worry about. We’ll take good care of you.”), his eyes rolled back and he slipped into unconsciousness.
I was exhausted past mere sleep deprivation, and the surgery was difficult, but the young man’s words, which continued to resonate through my mind as I worked, kept my fingers nimble and my instincts sharp. When finally it was over, I heaved a relieved sigh, thankful that his vitals were doing much better now and that the surgery had gone smoothly. I surveyed the sleeping figure in front of me as I slipped off my mask and bloody gloves.
“You’re okay now,” I murmured, low so as not to be heard by the other nurses, “I’ve kept my promise.”
---
Looking back on it now, I suppose I never did promise the man anything. But when he had looked up at me with those distant, pleading eyes of his and asked for me to save him, I had felt required to fulfill his wish. Well, my duty as a doctor was to do exactly that, regardless, but the drive I had felt to save him had been so much stronger than normal.
I realized later that it had been the way he had asked, implying that there was something he had to live for. I couldn’t help but wonder what that something was. Though I admit that even then, when I was but a stranger to him, he fascinated me.
---
A/n- (yes, another one--I have been silent on this site for too long, it seems ;D) I feel the need to mention that I know next to nothing about medical jargon or procedures or…anything, really. I tried to make it sound convincing with minimum research (I hate research. :P). Crap is most likely wrong, and I apologize for that. However, this fic is not an episode of ER (this chapter is really the only technical one actually..) Of course if anyone wants to give me tips/info or anything, I’m all for it. Other than that, I hope you all enjoyed it! I'll be posting chapter 2 soon, so get ready for spit balls and Egyption Rat Screw! ^.^v
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