When Love Sparks, It Flies.

A Trip to the Hospital!?

After a nice shower, you get changed and exit the locker room. You bid farewell to your friends, and head off to your own destinations. Your ankle still hurt awfully bad, and it began to bruise in the shower. Not wanting to worry anybody, you kept your pain to yourself.

"Are you gonna come over today Y/N?" Luffy bubbles, jumping on you. If it wasn't for your bad ankle, you would have been able to carry his weight. The poor boy not noticing your slight whimper when he landed on you.

"I will Luffy, but I need to go home first. I'll see you in a little bit." You calm the boy down before you worsen your ankle, or let on that your injured. Sabo eyes you suspiciously, but you smile at him to show that you're okay.

"Aww! I wanted to walk home with you! You better come home super quick so you can come play with me!" He tells you. Running along with his older brothers as they head home. You wave goodbye before turning to your apartment home. Your ankle was killing you, and it hurt to walk on it. You decided on going home to fix it up yourself, but it feels worse than you thought, and the pain was becoming unbareable. You didn't know if you could make it home in come piece.

To make things worse, it started to drizzle. You looked up at enormas black clouds. They suffocated the blue sky and caused it to cry larger amounts of water. It a hurry, you scampered to find shelter and prevent yourself from getting soaked to the bone. The closest shelter was a large tree in front of a building. You sighed as you saw the rain pooring down harder.

You were gonna be here awhile, so you observed your surroundings. There wasn't a bird in sight. And the cherry blossoms were being pelted to the ground from the harsh storm. It was then you realized the building you were next to was a small clinic. Debating whether or not to go inside begged the question. Stay under this dripping tree, in a storm, with a sprained ankle. Or finding shelter within this small clinic, and getting your ankle treated. As much as you liked being anywhere but in the rain, you hated talking to strangers even more. You just didn't know how to start up a conversation with someone you didn't know.

You looked across the street to see a red headed gangster glaring at you. He has disheveled hair and goggles fixated on top of it. It looked like he was wearing eyeliner and black lipstick as they stood out from such a large distance from him. All of a sudden, you took your chances with the stranger. At least a doctor could be trusted.

You entered the small clinic in a hurry, or as fast as you can travel with one working leg. The door made a small chime as you shuffled through. Turns out there was a small bell above the door. The inside was fairly roomy, and it looked comfortable enough. A small lounge area stood at one end of the room, likely the waiting room. And there was a front desk along with a door. Likely where the operation table and things were behind.

"I'll be with you in a minute" came a muffled yell from behind the door. Maybe he was working with another patient. You were tempted to head back out when a tall, blond, and handsome man came from behind the door. He stood behind the counter waiting for you. " Do you have an appointment?" He asked. He had a big smile on his face, and red lipstick? He was so tall, he towered over you, almost touching the ceiling.

"No. Sorry, I don't." You whispered almost losing your voice.

"That's okay. What can I do you for. I'm not that busy at the moment."

"I just have a swollen ankle. I think it might be sprained.'' You tried explaining yourself but as soon as you were about to, someone else entered the room. The small bell chiming upon their entrance. You felt that same eerily feeling from earlier this morning on your walk back home. Maybe there was someone watching you.

"Law! I'm glad you're here. It seems we have a patient with a sprained ankle. Do you mind helping this young lady out?" The blond said, walking over to him before tripping and falling on his face. How clumsy. You look behind you to see the man who entered the clinic. He was tanned skinned, and he had dark foreboding eyes. He glanced at you before helping up his friend.

"Cora-san. You should be careful of your health." He sighed, checking to see if he had any injuries.

"Yeah. Sorry!" He smiled, going back behind the counter to check his paper work.

Law glanced your way again, looking down at your ankle before slowly making his way back up to your eyes. You felt yourself tense up under his stare. He better not be checking me out. He looks so scary...

"Follow me." He sighed again, walking behind the small door. He seems unmotivated about life. Nonetheless you followed him into the small operating room. He commands you to sit on the table, to which you comply. He puts on gloves and a black coat... Aren't doctor coats supposed to be white...

He pulls out a chair and sits in front of you. He places your injured foot on his lap and exaxamines the ankle. While he's examining it, he asks you a few questions.

"Whats your name?" He questions first. Eyeing you in the process.

" L/n, Y/n." You reply with decreasing confidence. Feeling intimidated under his fierce gaze, you play with your hands while looking down.

"Well L/n-ya. I am Trafalgar Law. A medical student working here part time. How did you get this injury?"

"I was playing tackle football when I was tackled to the ground. I guess I twisted it when landing. I should mention that before, I was forced to do fifty suicides on the track." You explained to the best of your knowledge. Placing your hand to your chin when thinking back to the incident. He observed you quietly.

"I see. Well it seems you did twist your ankle from blunt force trama. They must have hit you in the ankle when tackling you. Due to the muscle strain your legs endured from all the running, your ankle was weak and caved in on you in the landing. You have mild swelling around the impact and contusions surrounding the area as well. I'll ice it for 15 to 25 minutes to help lessen the edema and then have it taped so you don't move it around too much. You'll need crutches for a few days while it heals, so I suggest you don't walk on it if you don't want that time increasing. And I'll set up some appointments for you everyday so I can check up on your progress. Hold still while I apply an ice wrap." He explains your situation in a professional manner, that you almost get lost on what he's saying. He gently takes a hold of your ankle and wraps ice to the affected area. He looks so skilled and concentrated. Despite his rough demeanor, he was actually really good at his job.

"That should do it. In about 15 minutes, I'll check to see if it needs more time." He states while standing up. He goes over to a clipboard on the counter and begins writing down your information. "Now have you ever sprained this ankle before?" he questions, staring into your soul.

"No."

"Ever injured anything other than now?"

"Does other people count?"

He chuckles at that comment. You've successfully lightened the mood a little.
"No, it doesn't count."

"Then no."

"Alright. Everything seems to be in check." He writes down some more things on his paper, in full concentration.