When the Clock Strikes|Pi Han Ul x Reader|

(S02) Chapter 1

"Multiple fractures, likely spleen or liver injury, and possible hemothorax," I reported. "She’s critical, but we’ve got her airway secured."

Dr. Kang nodded. "We’re taking her to the OR now. Ye Na, you’re coming."

I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my mask and followed as we rushed her toward the operating room.

The bright surgical lights glared down as we moved quickly, every second counting. The girl lay on the table, unconscious, her body broken but still clinging to life.

"Anesthesia ready?" Dr. Kang asked.

I checked the monitors. Her vitals were still unstable. "Starting now. Fentanyl, midazolam, and rocuronium."

The nurse handed me the syringes, and I carefully administered the drugs.

"BP dropping—she’s losing too much blood," a nurse warned.

"Get more units of O-negative. We need blood fast," Dr. Kang ordered.

"Breath sounds still good?" I asked, monitoring her oxygen levels.

"Stable for now."

Dr. Kang made the first incision, cutting through layers of tissue to expose the abdomen. Blood pooled immediately.

"Massive hemoperitoneum. Liver laceration, grade four." His voice was grim.

I watched as he and his team worked quickly, suctioning the blood and identifying the bleeder.

"Suction!"

"More lap pads."

"Clamp."

Each command was met with immediate action. The room was tense, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors the only constant sound.

"BP’s still dropping," a nurse said.

I checked the IV lines. "Increase fluids. Give another unit of blood."

Dr. Kang worked meticulously, repairing the torn liver. Minutes felt like hours.

"Bleeding controlled," he finally said. "Now let’s check for any pneumothorax."

I adjusted the ventilator settings as they worked. "Lung compliance is low."

"Chest tube in place," another surgeon confirmed.

Her vitals slowly stabilized.

"She’s not out of danger yet," Dr. Kang said, looking at me. "But she has a chance."

I exhaled, nodding. "We’ll keep her under close observation."

The surgery continued for hours. Every moment demanded focus, precision. By the time we finished, exhaustion weighed on me, but I refused to let it show.

As we wheeled her to the ICU, I caught sight of her parents waiting outside. The mother clutched her chest, eyes red and swollen.

I walked up to them, pulling my mask down. "She made it through the surgery. Her condition is still critical, but she’s stable for now."

The mother broke down in tears, gripping my hands. "Thank you, doctor. Thank you."

Doctor. The word felt heavy, even though I wasn’t fully one yet. But at this moment, it didn’t matter.

I had saved a life. And that was enough.

As the girl's parents continued sobbing in relief, I gave them a small nod before turning away, exhaustion creeping into my bones. The weight of the night pressed against my shoulders, but I couldn’t rest yet.