Chapter Text
There’s a strange welcoming feeling about the hospital that Chishiya presumes only he resonates with.
For Chishiya, the sharp smell of disinfectant, the humming of worn-out electrical lights overhead, and the murmur of voices from the hallway chanting in hushed medical speak; all of it makes him feel calm and composed. It’s far from glamourous, but Chishiya feels as though he belongs here.
He thumbs through his medical notebook, cross-referencing with his textbook as he tries to drown out everything else. Above his head, the air conditioner abruptly clanks and shudders, sending a chill of cool air into the room. Chishiya taps his pen against the paper, irked that he’s now hyper-focused on something other than his revision.
Chishiya leans back in his chair, looking stone-faced around the cafeteria wing of the hospital. Most of the tables here are vacant at this late hour, but the sickly yellow hue emitted from the swinging lights shines a dim glow on the other two people in the room. They’re both fully qualified doctors, garbed in white while Chishiya remains dressed in the signature green of a junior. One man is stooped over a plastic cup of coffee, face lit up by his pager. The other, sitting far away by the door, has his head leant against the table, stealing snatches of sleep, utterly exhausted by the stress of the job.
Chishiya doesn’t feel stressed. In fact, he feels extraordinarily motivated to be in their shoes. He takes a few more seconds to stare at the men. Chishiya wonders if they appreciate the privilege of their position, or if they’re too tired to think of how lucky they are to be dressed in white coats, rather than green scrubs.
The air conditioner shudders again, snapping the young man out of his daydream. Chishiya jots down the final comments on his earlier incident form, then shuts the notebook and sips his coffee. It’s long gone cold, and the papery taste of the cup has permeated the flavour. Chishiya scowls at the taste and then settles his attention on his phone.
Two new messages await him.
11:14 pm - Kuina: Are you coming back tonight?
11:22 pm - Kuina: Only asking because I was going to have Ann and a few others over; I know you have exams, so I don’t want to bother you if you’re going to be in.
Chishiya takes truly little thought in his response.
12:27 am - Chishiya: Working nights.
Chishiya shuts off his phone. His need to be at the hospital tonight has nothing to do with his rota; he just likes being here. He shares a flat with Kuina from a mix of convenience, and genuine enjoyment of being around the woman. Kuina is the only person Chishiya allows himself to care for. Her constant presence is the only one that doesn’t irk him.
Except for right now. Now, amid his medical exams, Chishiya would rather spend his free time in the establishment he’s dedicating his life to. Like father like son, he thinks absentmindedly.
Chishiya flicks through his medical exam book, settling on his specialised subject of paediatric cardiology. He stifles off a yawn and begins to print off notes with routine precision. He’s so focused, that he doesn’t notice you until a second coffee cup is suddenly set on the table, inches from his open books.
“Hi,”
Chishiya glances upwards, attention turned away from his revision. It only takes a second for him to be captivated by you.
“Hello,” he replies cautiously. The cafeteria is still empty, so your choice of seating baffles Chishiya as much as your confidence impresses him. He quickly recognises you as a classmate in his university module, a fellow budding junior doctor garbed in green.
“Sorry,” you apologise as you drag out the opposite seat. “I know it’s weird to come and sit here by you when there are so many other tables. But, we’re in the same class, right? Medicine… BMedSci BMBS?”
Chishiya nods, effectively addressing both of your statements. Because while your seating choice is more than peculiar to him, you both are enrolled on the same medicine module at the same university.
You introduce yourself and Chishiya files away your name. “Long night?” you ask, disturbing the silence as you take a seat, sipping at burning hot coffee before grimacing.
“This is curious,” Chishiya thinks out loud as he hides his hands in his pockets. “We’ve never actually spoken before, so why now?” states Chishiya factually, ignoring your prompt and making his confusion at the situation even clearer.
It is true that no words have been exchanged between you two, but the lack of conversation doesn’t mean that Chishiya is unaware of who you are. Quiet and focused, you remind him of himself. A fellow student dedicated to the art of medicine. Chishiya always took note of the others around him that reached his level of dedication to the course. He admired that you strived to become a good, talented doctor, something Chishiya already considered himself to be.
He needed to work on digging out his compassion, disliking that empathy seemed to come so easily to you.
Chishiya was also not blind to your modest beauty. He often distanced himself from the fairer sex, preferring to isolate himself away from the potential hurt Chishiya knew he was capable of bringing to other people. Still, Chishiya would be lying if he said he wasn’t attracted to you.
As he sits before you, he allows his gaze to travel up your body. For the first time, for longer than a glance he admires your figure. Noting how your green scrubs cling to the curve of your hip, tighten across the slope of your abdomen, and expose the soft arch of your collarbones. As Chishiya reaches your face, he lets a soft exhale pass his lips.
Chishiya locks away his thoughts on how beautiful he finds you. That’s something he’ll keep to himself.
Seemingly unaware of Chishiya’s staring, you clear your throat and nod as you thumb through your folders. “I know, I’ve always wanted to say hi, but you always seem so...” you think for a moment, and Chishiya is intrigued to hear the image you’ll choose to paint his character.
“So withdrawn,” you conclude.
Chishiya prides himself on being reclusive. Even Kuina barely sees the real him that he keeps locked away and out of sight. It’s almost a compliment to him that you’ve fallen for his façade.
“I’m just here to get my degree,” Chishiya states, but he finds it strange that he’s entertaining your presence in the first place, normally, he would have got up and moved away, looking for a corner where he could enjoy his solace once more.
You nod and eye up Chishiya’s thick notebook, bookmarks and coloured notes taped between the sheets. “That’s kind of the reason I came over here,” you admit sheepishly. “You seem so unphased by anything both in the classroom and first-hand at the hospital. I was wondering if I could have mentoring of some kind?
Chishiya narrows his eyes, and you immediately pull back your suggestion, feeling as though a line has been crossed. “Just advice on this one module maybe? It would help so much,” you practically plead.
Chishiya glances down at his watch, it reads 12.34 am. Technically, he’s off the clock until his next shift at 5 am. A sane medical student understanding the physical demands of the job, would take advantage of the time off and be asleep by now. Chishiya was content studying alone deep into the early hours, but now he feels a strange pull to converse with you.
Chishiya raises an eyebrow in response, letting his simple gesture answer your question. Your shoulders drop as you physically relax, before flipping through your scattered notes, finding the section in question, and rotating the papers under Chishiya’s nose. You tap the paper twice in a rhythmic pattern that Chishiya finds oddly soothing.
“I just know this will come up on the exam,” you say as you trace your fingertips gently across the ink. “I had a difficult appointment earlier and only just finished writing up the incident form. I have no time to revise this section tonight. Could you…” you pause, and Chishiya exhales through his nose as his eyes instinctively lock with yours. “Could you just... explain this to me?”
Chishiya has to drag his gaze away from you – something which he’s never done with anyone before. He’s usually never distracted. He scans the text for a brief second, and a smug smile lifts the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah, I can help,” he confirms, though he’s still teetering around the idea if he should. Chishiya sits back in his chair, and it creaks as it adjusts to his weight. He feels strange around you and more curiously, a fraction of yearning as he admires your pretty face and kind dark eyes.
Chishiya opens his notes, extends his hand and points to his previous comments on the subject, words still fresh, ink slightly smudged. He explains the medical practice with a level of clarity that impresses him. Chishiya feels more competent than ever when he has an understanding level above others, but this feels different. Chishiya almost feels a level of desire to aid you with your studies. Almost like he wants you to succeed.
“It’s a shame it’s so late,” you comment as you jot down new notes. “It would be nice to do this over a decent cup of coffee.”
Chishiya smirks to himself because you seem completely unaware of the implication of your words.
“Bars are still open at this time,” he replies, still smirking.
You chuckle, and the softness of your laugh captures Chishiya’s attention. He wonders if he could make you laugh again just to bathe in the happiness spilling from your lips.
“I would love to,” you respond, and for once Chishiya can’t tell if you’re being genuine or not. “But it’ll have to be a rain check this time. I only have ten minutes left on my break.”
The disappointment that fills Chishiya’s chest surprises him. Logically, he knew that his brief fantasy about escaping the hospital and talking to you in a room buzzing with lights and alcohol wasn’t possible. But it was still nice to imagine.
“Are you scheduled on all night?” Chishiya asks, wondering if he’ll get the chance to see you further into the early hours.
You tap your painted fingernails against the plastic of the coffee cup and glance at your pager, as if concerned at the lack of alerts. “I’m scheduled on the labour ward until 5 am. I have some blood to take and tests to run. What about you?”
Chishiya smiles to himself, attempting to hide his disappointment that your schedules graze each other with no overlap. “Ah, I’m starting at 5 am, back in cardiology,” he explains.
You crinkle your face in confusion, all while upkeeping your smile. “You start at 5 am?” you question, double-checking your watch. “How come you’re not at home in bed.”
I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you if I’d gone home Chishiya thinks to himself.
“I wanted to fit in some alone time for last-minute study. My flatmate can be loud,” is what Chishiya says to you.
“I get what you mean,” you state calmly, re-pinning your hair away from your face. “I’m usually in the library, but since we’ve been on placement it just feels easy to fully immerse myself in hospital life.” You gesture around you at the discoloured walls and the terrible cups of coffee. “Hopefully, if we pass our exams, one day all of this will be our day-to-day lives.”
Chishiya holds his tongue, preventing himself from telling you that this is already his life. Unlike other university students, Chishiya avoids all typical nocturnal activities and parties. When he’s not at the hospital, his nightlife is limited to late nights in his room, eating microwaved leftovers to the light of his laptop screen.
Kuina rarely bothers him despite them sharing a living space. She’s often too wrapped up in her own social life and hyperaware of Chishiya’s inclination to isolation. Chishiya has grown to appreciate this, but at times he feels trapped by the loneliness that comes with his outwardly cold personality.
These feelings resurface, but his thoughts are disrupted by you gathering your papers and getting to your feet. You’re still beside him, but Chishiya already feels sullen upon recognising your looming absence.
“I have to go back,” you say, holding your pager up to Chishiya’s eye line. The green screen is lit up with messages. “Patients need me,” you say enthusiastically, but Chishiya can tell by the lines underneath you’re eyes that you’re tired.
He’s tired too.
“Are you in class on Friday?” Chishiya asks, not ready to watch you go without establishing when he’ll see you again.
“Yeah,” you confirm. “I usually sit at the front; it’s probably why you haven’t noticed me.”
Chishiya doesn’t share that of course he’s noticed you, because how couldn’t he? But when you sheepishly mention that you haven’t caught his name yet, he’s quick to respond.
“Chishiya,” he says cooly.
“Chishiya,” you repeat in response, and Chishiya loves hearing the delicate way you form each syllable, rolling your tongue over the letters as if savouring how they feel in your mouth.
“Good luck for the rest of your shift,” says Chishiya in a soft voice that surprises him.
After you leave, Chishiya finds it hard to concentrate. He pens a message to Kuina telling her he’s coming home after all, to which she replies that the house is vacant anyway, as the gathering has moved to a bar. Chishiya thinks of joining them, but shelves the idea when he remembers that you wouldn’t be there.
He finds himself in the cardiology wing, studying a schedule he already knows off by heart. And then, because labour ward is by the exit, he ends up there, running his finger along the rota until he finds your initials. He takes note to memorise them.
There’s something so soothing to Chishiya about finally having someone around who’s walking in his shoes. Chishiya doesn’t need academic support, or even the reassurance that his instilled medical practices are correct, because he’s sure they are. But getting closer to someone who’s flaunting the parts of humanity that he’s missing? That’s an opportunity he can’t deny.
Chishiya knows that he’ll graduate and be a good doctor. He just doesn’t know if he’ll graduate and be a good person.
As he lies awake that night, listening to Kuina clatter around the flat in her drunken state, Chishiya thinks of you. He marvels at how you were always a background character to him. Another figure crammed into the lecture halls. Another person taking notes in the practical lessons that he was better than.
Well, maybe you’re not just another person anymore.
Chishiya’s focus on the looming exams lessens as he closes his eyes and searches for sleep. Instead, he hones into Friday, and the next time he’ll see you again.