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Late nights at the clinic were the worst. You were often left to handle everything yourself despite the fact that you had barely finished your medical degree.

It was a load of crap. You didn't even get paid that well.

It was to be expected however, as the clinic was in the more underground, scummy part of Tokyo. A lot of the times, people would stumble in after run ins with hostile gangs or whatever. And as a twenty-three year old woman, it was a little bit unsettling. But you had your trusty medical scalpels by your side.

You sighed into your palm of the arm propping your head up as you looked out the window of the dingy clinic. If growing up led you here, you were seriously starting to doubt your decision to live at that point. But your childhood was hard lived and cut short meaning you had to mature and fend for yourself at a young age, giving you no time to really be young.

Oh well.

The monotone ticking of the clock echoed in your brain as you waited for morning to come so you could go to sleep. There had only been two patients that night; a knife wound and a few burises. Nothing big and you were hoping that it would stay that way so you could go home.

Unfortunately, fate didn't like you very much as five minutes before your shift ended, as two men stumbled in, one of them seemingly injured.

You jumped up, slapping some gloves on as you helped the man place his companion on the bed. You fixed the light so you could see the state he was in a bit better. A gunshot wound to the lower left abdomen. Lucky you.

"How long ago was he shot?" You asked calmly, medical mask in place as you began gently removing clothes from the half concious man.

"Uh like two minutes ago." The other man answered with a pained and worried expression.

"You tried to stop the bleeding?" You questioned once more, removing the bullet cautiously then dropping it into a dish with a metallic clink.

"Yeah. Want the cloth I did it with?" He held out a blood soaked suit jacket in a dazed fashion.

"No that's alright. There's a washing machine and dryer in the back however if you'd like to clean it. And showers." You smiled kindly and tiredly. He nodded and staggered off, presumably in the direction you pointed to. "Now..." You mumbled to yourself as you began studying what tissues remained. "You're lucky it wasn't a centimeter or so higher. Then I'd have to be sewing your intestines back together."

You quickly prepped him for an IV, taking blood quickly before giving him a dose of morphine in the process then hooking him up to a drip. You disinfected the wound, knowing there wasn't much you could do. Thankfully, it was a clean shot, not much tissue was ruptured but nor did the bullet exit as you pulled it out. Once you were satisfied with how clean the wound was, you applied a bit of arnica cream, then bandaged it all up as well as you could.

"Oh. Wow. You know, you look like an angel." The half concious man reached up and you rolled your eyes playfully as you were quite used to this sort of stuff.

"Alright sir, if you get some rest, I'll bring you some food and you'll be back on your feet in no time.

"Where's my brother?" He asked, looking around for the man he had come in with.

"In the back. I told him to have a shower and clean his clothes." You assured him, patting his arm. You were getting up to leave when he reached out and pulled you to sit beside him on his bed. "Sir? Do you need anything else?"

"Will you wait a moment? I don't like falling asleep by myself." He whispered and you nodded, accomodating his request as you pushed his purple-pink hair from his forhead. He visibly relaxed under your touch as the drugs pulled him into a slumber. You remained beside him until his brother re-entered, damp and in just his dress shirt and pants.

"Is he okay?" He asked, roughly tousling his wet hair.

"He'll be fine. Just needs some rest and food." You told him as you began cleaning up. He stepped out to take a phone call and sat down at your desk, exhausted and missing the warmth of your bed at home.

"When can he be moved?" The man with the jellyfish styled hair asked, phone away from his ear.

"Oh. I'd give him two-three days of bedrest before he can move, but not do anything strenous." You answered, him nodding and moving his phone back to his ear.

"Yeah we'll move him tonight." Your eyes widened at his disregard for your words. "No don't bring Sanzu. Yeah Kakucho and Takeomi are good. Okay. See you soon." He pocketed his phone before staring at you with a cold gaze. Obviously his shower had snapped him out of whatever state he was in before. "Thank you."

You nodded hesitantly, bowing before holding out his brother's ruined suit jacket and shirt.

"Dispose of them. He has no need for them." He waved a hand and your eyes fell on the expensive watch decorating his slender wrists. It then clicked. You knew that tattoo was a bit too familiar.

Upon your realisation, you nodded and discarded the garments, laying another blanket on the sleeping male. You knew that curiosity could cost you your life, especially with people like the ones in the room with you. Besides as you were in gang territory, it was a tricky business and you had to deal with a lot of people who had been involved in terrible things.  Because of that, there were rules about the clinic. It didn't belong to any gang, and you weren't allowed to target it. Fortunately, this had been honoured for as long as you had worked there. You had no obligation to disclose information about yourself or other patients nor did the patients have to share anything non-medical related.

"Oi, doc! We're moving him now." You looked up, realising that the number of men had multiplied. You bowed, not wanting to make eye-contact with the intimidating men. You began preparing the wounded man for transport with gentle and light fingers. You were hyperaware of the men staring at you as you bustled around.

"God don't worry about it. We'll just take him. He'll be fine." The jellyfish man snapped, growing tired of your needless fretting. He reached out and yanked the IV from his brother's arm much to your horror. He then hoisted him up with a groan, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. He walked out, his brother's limp head smacking harshly on the doorframe with a resounding noise. You and the other two men flinched at the noise. One of them exited with a curt nod to you whilst the other one with dark hair lingered behind.

"Thank you." He bowed his head and you immediately started panicking.

"No! Please don't bow, it's my duty to help." Waving your hands around you spoke nervously. The man looked at you thoughtfully before nodding.

"I trust you'll say nothing of what happened?" He asked, rummaging around in his jacket pocket.

"Of course. It's policy." You bowed fully, eyes trained on your shoes respectfully as your hands shook.

"Don't be frightened. I won't hurt you."  He reassured you with a wave of his hand. You looked up and he held out a stack of cash. "For your troubles." Your jaw dropped into an 'O' upon seeing the amount he offered you.

"Oh, there's no need." Shaking your head, you held your hands behind your back as you spoke.

He reached out, grasping your arm with surpassing softness and placed the money into your hands. "Take it." He commanded and you gulped and nodded, knowing the money in your hands was as dirty as the alleyways that rats and roaches scurried through. 

With that he left and you stood, shaking.

"I never want to work overtime ever again."

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