I showed up forty minutes early.
Not because I'm a nerd (okay, maybe a little), but because today was my first shift as a real nurse.
Assigned to Dr. Hayashi.
The same man I confessed to yesterday.
Kill me.
Nurse Yamamoto handed me my assignment list with a knowing smile. "You're with Dr. Hayashi today. Lucky girl."
Lucky.
Sure.
The morning started with spilled coffee.
Not mine — Dr. Hayashi's.
Which, in hindsight, may have been worse.
I'd been balancing a tray with three files, my water bottle, and the coffee I'd bought as a peace offering. Spoiler alert: it did not survive the elevator.
The doors opened. I stepped out. Saw him. Panicked.
And the tray tilted like the Titanic.
"Ah—!"
The cup slipped. A heroic splash hit the floor—and the hem of his coat.
For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, without even blinking:
"Are you planning to take me out with caffeine now, or will poison be next?"
I froze. "I—uh—I thought coffee might help…"
He looked at the growing stain on the tile. "It did. I'm now fully awake."
---
I apologized for the fourth time as we made our way through morning rounds.
"Seriously, I'll buy you another. Two. A whole month's supply. Just—please don't write me up for coffee homicide."
He handed me a chart. "Save your money. Invest in better hand-eye coordination."
Ouch.
---
In Room 212, I dropped a stethoscope. Twice.
In Room 307, I accidentally handed him a pen lid instead of the pen.
And in Room 309, while adjusting the patient's blanket, I somehow got my ID badge tangled in the IV tubing.
"Hold still!" I hissed to the tubing like it was sentient.
Behind me, Dr. Hayashi muttered, "I should've brought scissors and holy water."
The patient was laughing so hard he wheezed.
---
And then, everything changed.
Room 315. A young girl with severe asthma, barely eleven. She looked scared, tiny against the white sheets.
Her breathing was ragged. Her hands shook.
Dr. Hayashi focused on her chart, cool and composed. But I saw it — the tremor in her lip, the panic rising.
She wasn't listening to him. Just sinking deeper into her fear.
So I did what I do best.
Talk.
"Hey," I said softly, crouching beside her. "Wanna know a secret?"
She blinked at me.
"I once panicked in front of a vending machine and cried because I thought it ate my coins. But guess what? I'd pushed the wrong button."
Her eyes flicked to mine.
"People panic. It happens. But you know what we do after?"
She shook her head.
"We breathe. Even if it's messy. Even if we cry a little. We just try again."
Her tiny hand gripped mine.
She took a breath.
And another.
And the rhythm steadied.
Behind me, silence.
Then, Dr. Hayashi stepped in with medication. Monitored vitals. Calmly professional — but quieter than usual.
---
We left the room he walked infront of me when I randomly out of nowhere fell down and he saw me falling and like any other normal girl I thought he would save me but no I was the normal guy but he wasn't the normal guy he just deadass watched me falling with a straight face and gave me a " tsk tsk tsk " before walking ahead.
He randomly stopped walking making me bump into him
" What is it doctor? "
"You handled that well," he said.
I blinked. "what?"
" The patient in room 315 and You didn't knock anything over. That's an improvement."
"Hey!"
A pause.
"Good instincts, newbie."
And for the first time… I swear he almost smiled.
---
That night, I collapsed onto my bed, exhausted. My knees were bruised. My confidence was cracked.
But somewhere between the spilled coffee and the little girl's hand in mine, I'd felt it.
Like maybe — just maybe — I wasn't a complete disaster.
Maybe I was just… still learning.
And maybe the Devil Doctor was, too.
---