Heaven wait (Hashirama x Madara)

3. Online agreement (Hashirama)

"Ahh!!"

I literally lay down on the floor of the operating theatre. It was covered in blood but I didn't care; I was exhausted.

"Here, Dr Senju. Drink this."

A kind nurse put a straw to my mouth. I had to do everything in my power not to push it away; even if I felt too tired to drink, I knew I needed sugar. Once the taste of raspberry and sugar hit my throat, though, I couldn't stop drinking.

"You're gold, thank you", I told the nurse.

He blushed at my compliment.

I had operated for twelve hours straight. Non-trauma surgeons could take breaks to eat, as long as an anaesthetic nurse stayed in the theatre with the sleeping patient. But not a trauma surgeon, at least not in a case as difficult as this. Also, it was night, meaning I'd had to operate alone, without an assisting surgeon. Once I finished the last stitch, my legs had given way.

The staff actually let me sleep on the floor. I honestly think it was more due to not daring to go against me, seeing I was one of the best trauma surgeons in New York, but one part of me hoped it was also due to kindness; of wanting to take care of me. God knew I had lacked people who wanted to take care of me.

Up until now...

I sat up, woken up by my thoughts of M. I went to get some actual sleep in the little night shift room. When I woke up again, it was late morning, and I went to have some weekend breakfast in the staff room.

"Haven't you gone off your shift, Dr Senju?" a kind nurse asked.

"Yes, at eight", I said with a smile, spreading cream cheese and then carrot marmalade on a raisin scone. "But I wouldn't miss this for anything in the world."

"Don't you have anyone to come home to?"

Ouch. I knew the nurse meant well, especially judging by the kind smile on her face, surrounded by grey curls that made her look like she came from a fairy tale. She could be the fairy god mother, I concluded. But these comments hurt. And the older I got, the more common they became. 

"Only my cat. But she honestly prefers being home alone."

"Handsome man like you!" the insensitive son of a bitch of a fairy god mother said. To my disdain, she took her bowl of fruit yoghurt and muesli and followed me to sit down next to me. "You should have girls lined up after you!"

I tried to smile, but it felt more like a grimace. I felt a cold sweat starting to break out on my face, and my hands were already trembling. Why? Why did people feel justified to speak to me like this? Was it because they knew I was approachable and kind? I was known for it in the clinic. I couldn't help but curse my mild personality that made my colleagues think they could ask me anything.

"I..." I looked down on my raisin scone. It wasn't all that appetising to me anymore. "I need to go."

I left. I needed to write to M.

It had started as a protest against my colleagues desire to put me up with someone. Everyone had a sister or a cousin or a friend, a female they deemed was suitable for me.

So I downloaded a dating app just so I could say no, actually, I do not desire to meet your daughter for a blind date, thank you, because I'm already dating.

Well, I hadn't technically planned on dating. I was just going to download the app and swipe a little just because I knew I couldn't lie, and swiping would be the minimum I needed in order to be able to say I dated.