I was restocking bandages when a nurse tapped my shoulder.
"Dr. Hayashi wants to see you. Office. Now."
My heart skipped. I followed the corridor, nerves crawling under my skin like ants. His door was half open — and the air inside already felt colder.
He didn't look up when I stepped in.
"Sit."
I obeyed, clutching the hem of my uniform.
"You've been here two weeks," he said, flipping through a file. "You're still clumsy. Still too hesitant. And you talk too much in the corridors."
I bit my lip. My throat tightened. Was he talking about Kazuki?
He finally looked at me, eyes sharp behind his glasses.
"This is a hospital, not a drama set. If you want to be taken seriously, act like it."
I nodded quickly.
"And stop accepting canned coffee from interns in the supply room."
My face flushed hot.
He returned to his paperwork as if he hadn't just gut-punched me with his words.
"You can go."
I stood, bowing slightly. "Y-yes, Doctor. I'm sorry."
But as I closed the door behind me, my heart ached.
He remembered the coffee.
---
That afternoon, I was unexpectedly assigned to assist him during a complex cardiology procedure. My hands trembled under my gloves as I stood at his side in the operating room, carefully watching the monitors.
"Clamp," he said. I handed it over—wrong angle. He didn't say anything, just adjusted it himself.
I wanted to sink into the floor.
But halfway through, I noticed something odd on the vitals monitor.
"U-um… doctor?" I whispered, barely audible. "The rhythm… it's irregular…"
He glanced at the screen. A beat passed.
"Good catch."
My heart soared.
Afterward, while passing by the break room, I overheard two voices through the slightly ajar door.
"She's sweet but barely competent," someone said.
"She saw the arrhythmia before you did," Dr. Hayashi replied flatly. "If that's incompetence, I'd recheck your definition."
I stood frozen, blinking back tears.
He… defended me?
---
During break, I sat by myself in the lounge. Kazuki appeared again — this time with two cans of peach tea.
"You looked like you needed this," he said with a grin.
"Thank you," I whispered.
He sat beside me, chatting about everything and nothing. I smiled, grateful for the ease of his company. Until I felt it — a shift in the air.
Dr. Hayashi walked in, glanced at the cans on the table, and raised an eyebrow.
"I see you've moved on from coffee," he muttered, flipping open a file.
I tensed.
Kazuki chuckled awkwardly. "Doctor, you should try smiling once in a while. Might boost your bedside manner."
"I'll consider that after my next cardiac arrest," he replied coolly, turning on his heel and walking out.
I stared down at my tea, cheeks burning.
---
Later, alone in the locker room, I found myself gripping my stethoscope, wondering if I was truly cut out for this.
But then… I remembered the way he'd said "good catch." The way he'd defended me when he didn't have to.
Even if he pretended not to care…
My heart — traitorous and loud — kept hoping he did.