FLATLINE // kazuscara

8

T/W: Minor Graphic Depiction of Gore

"Which operation room is patient number 204?" Kazuha's breath hitched. He was puffing for air as he dropped his arms onto the counter of the hospital's front desk, hair disheveled. 

He jumped off the sofa after hearing the phone call. He hasn't eaten, nor had he properly brushed his hair. Who cares about appearances when Scaramouche was waiting for him patiently in the operation room?

"Um... sorry?" the employee asked. Her eyes droopy, she looked like she was zoning out. 

Kazuha tsked, scratching his nails on the marble counter of the front desk. He felt a burning urge to punch the woman right off of her seat, perhaps bash her head on the keyboard in front of her to remind her what she's here for?

"WHICH OPERATION ROOM IS PATIENT NUMBER 204?!" Kazuha hollered, "Who the fuck assigned you to the front desk?!" 

His loud voice bounced off the walls of the empty hospital in the middle of the night. The employee's head bobbed a little, a tint of annoyance flashed across her eyes. She chewed on the inside of her mouth.

"Where's your Hospital ID?" she rubbed her eyes, smudging a little of her eye make-up. Yawning, she put her hand out.

"Shit," Kazuha swore under his breath. This was the only day when he forgot to bring his ID. Everything came up so quickly he'd completely forgotten everything. 

"If you don't have your hospital ID," the front desk employee crossed her legs, propping one of her arms on the armrest of the rotational chair; weight shifted onto that arm. "I can't let you in."

Kazuha lowered his head, grunting. He tapped his nails on the marble counter, licking his lips. Trying to think of a way to get in.

"Look, I'm really desperate. And I know you are, too." Kazuha began after a few seconds of pondering, linking eye contact with the employee. "Do you think I'm pretty?" 

She seemed taken aback by the sudden question that had no connection with the last sentence whatsoever. "Um..." she would stumble on her words, "Actually, yes. Very much so." 

"Great." Kazuha breathed, "I'll promise you a dinner night tomorrow, alright? The kind that ends in hotel rooms." he flashed her an innocent smile. 

The front desk employee glared over at him, scanning him from bottom to top. Before bursting out into a wide smile. 

"Now we're talking." she hmphed, her delicate fingers tapped on the keyboard. Looking for patient number 204's status. Her long, harlequin nails jabbed the keys, making satisfying clicking sounds. 

"He would be in Operation Room 6," she smiled. "And about our date..."

Kazuha didn't spare her another look before bolting towards the operation room hallway.

Changing into his surgeon attire. He made himself a mental note to fire her immediately after the surgery.

He should've insisted on scheduling an operation sooner. He should've done what's best for Scaramouche. He should've fulfilled his role as a doctor. 

Now, he was entering the operation room. Seeing the thing he feared he one day would see. 

"Sir, we discovered an atrial septal defect in the patient's heart. There was a shard pierced through the walls of his heart." a surgeon reported, while the other surgeons hustled in unison. Arranging operation tools, cleaning up the patient's chest area, placing a yellow sheet of screening on the patient's skin. All the necessary procedures to ensure a successful and healthy operation.