You're a doctor who gets a special patient one, fateful day

Requested by _eridescent

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"(L/n)-san!"

When your name echoed through the stark, white hallway, you turned away from the examination room you had just left after doing a routine check up with one of your patients to see a fellow doctor rushing towards you. "Yes, Sawamura-san?" you answered meekly, your words clogging in your throat with nervousness when you saw the worried look on his face. It was disconcerting to see a doctor as calm and controlled as he was wear an expression of distress.

"We just had an emergency surgery for a soldier who was rushed in, and you've been assigned as his primary doctor during his recovery," Sawamura informed you, his brown eyes darting down the hallway behind you when he noticed a pair of nurses push a gurney around the corner. "There he is now."

Your head whipped around and your eyes followed the stretcher as it moved into one of the suites lining the hallway. "Well, what happened to him?" you wondered, turning your gaze back to the doctor beside you.

He shook his head helplessly and said, "I don't know any details, but the nurses should leave his file in the door, as per usual. I was just to come here and tell you as soon as I heard." With a nod, you thanked him before the two of you parted ways. He headed to a different wing of the hospital while you marched over to the room where you'd seen the nurses wheel in your new patient. Once you'd reached the door, which was now shut, you plucked a folder out of the holder stuck to it and flipped through the contents.

Iwaizumi Hajime, Male, 26 years old. You scanned over the information on the pages in front of you, trying to gather as much information as possible to soothe your racing mind. A drawing of a man's body on the center of one of the pages had two, massive red circles on it with shakily written details courtesy of the notetaker. One was around the head, while the other highlighted the leg from the knee down. You could hardly read the handwriting beside it, so you decided to go into the room and examine the situation for yourself.

Upon opening the door, you saw a figure lying in the single bed against the wall. Pale sunlight pouring in through the windows cast shadows over one side of his face, but you could clearly see large, white wrappings covering almost the entire left side of his head. When you moved closer to him and examined the outline of his body underneath the covers, your eyes stopped at his legs. Where you expected to see two shins and feet, you only saw one.

That must be why they assigned him to me, you thought, a pang of sadness rippling through your body. While you saw a variety of different types of patients, you specialized in working with those who needed or had prosthetic replacements. Even though you'd seen many different cases during your time as a medical professional, the emergency situations in which patients hadn't realized they had needed an amputation or had lost a limb were always the most painful for you.

You watched him for a moment in silence save from the steady beeping of his heart monitor. When you logged onto a computer in the room and checked for a digital version of his files, you were able to quickly ascertain a better understanding of the situation. Part of his leg had gotten damaged during an attack on the camp he had been stationed in, and he had multiple deep shrapnel wounds on his face. The surgeons had stitched up his wounds and covered them, but had needed to amputate the lower half of his leg due to a deadly infection that would've spread to the rest of his body had they not removed it.

Rolling your chair over to his bed, you looked more closely at his face, noticing slight bruising under his exposed eye. Half of his spiky, dark hair was covered by the dressings surrounding his face that obscured most of his features. The hospital gown he wore rose up and down with his slow breaths, and your gaze moved to the IV stuck to his arm with tape that was supplying him with intense painkillers. Letting out a small sigh, you remained by his bedside, waiting for him to awaken.

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When the soldier finally did drift into consciousness, you were burdened with explaining the situation at hand to him. The look of disappointment and defeat in the one olive green eye of his that you could see nearly made your heart break. However, assurances that you were going to be by his side to help him seemed to give him a sliver of solace.

Your first day with him drew to a close with the two of you knowing next to nothing about each other aside his case, who he was, and that you were his doctor. But, over the next couple of days, you began to learn more about him as the two of you spent time talking while nurses administered medication, and while you changed his wrappings or took measurements of his leg to have a prosthetic made for him. You soon realized he was a charming man who had this brusqueness to him that you thought was endearing rather than threatening.

You'd learned even more about him from his devoted friend, who had rushed to the hospital as soon as he'd been alerted to Iwaizumi's condition. Whenever he could, Oikawa would spend the entirety of Iwaizumi's visiting hours at his side to offer some sort of emotional support--if the banter they engaged in could be considered support.

"Iwaizumi-san," you spoke to your patient one day after his doting friend had left for the evening. In response to hearing you call his name and seeing your figure appear at his bedside, his eye shifted to meet your warm (e/c) gaze. "I don't mean to pry, but why is Oikawa-san the only one who's been visiting you?"

He inhaled deeply, though it appeared to pain him to do so, and replied, "Well, Shittykawa's been my best friend for practically my whole life. He was the only one who really supported my decision to enlist in the Army. Nobody else, not even my own family, had my back. Because of that, I put him as my emergency contact. I knew that if anything happened to me, he'd be here. And he is."

Hearing him speak about his friend to you made you realize how much he did care for Oikawa even though the two of them constantly bickered and got on each other's nerves. Must've been their way of showing that they cared. "You don't have someone special waiting for you at home?" you asked, hoping your question wasn't too forward. A shake of his head answered your inquiry, and you sighed before admitting, "Well, I'm glad he's come to support you, since I have to be with other patients as well and I'd be shattered if I had to leave you in here by yourself in the meantime." A small smile crept onto your lips as you unintentionally took one of his hands in both of yours.

The corner of his mouth turned up ever so slightly and you could've sworn you saw a faint blush dust his cheek. "Thank you for taking care of me." Hesitating a moment and clenching his jaw, he added, "I know it's your job, and everything, but I've never been allowed to be someone else's burden." Despite his level of strength being far lower than normal, he still gave one of your hands a gentle squeeze.

It took you a moment to snap back to reality and realize that you'd grabbed his hand, but once you did, you gently set it back down beside him and clasped your own together. "It's late, Iwaizumi-san; please try to rest. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon, but if you need anything in the meantime, Dr. Sugawara will take care of you, okay?" After he'd given you another nod of affirmation, you turned away from him and headed towards the door.

"Hey, Doctor (l/n)," you heard him call, making you stop and look at him over your shoulder, "Try not to miss me too much."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you responded, "No guarantees."

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Watching Iwaizumi's condition improve each day gave you hope and peace of mind. According to Oikawa, he was beginning to act more like "the Iwa-chan that he knew and loved." He was more conversational and eager than he had been when he'd first been made aware of his condition, and you were happy to see his attitude grow more optimistic.

However, when a visitor other than Oikawa was escorted into the room by a nurse, neither of you could contain your surprise. A general appeared one day to deliver some news to both you and your patient that made your heart sink. Unfortunately, Iwaizumi was being redeployed at the end of the week and was set to be put under another doctor's care. While he would no longer be on the front lines, his service was still required. When you asked about the duration of his deployment, the general had given you a timeframe of one to two years.

Following the announcement of this information, you tried not to let your disappointment show. Just as you were getting ready to have Iwaizumi's leg prosthetic fitted to him and begin helping him into the next stages of his recovery process, he was being taken away and shipped off elsewhere. Knowing he was leaving soon put a damper on your spirits, but you made sure to cherish the moments you got to spend with him in the few days you had left taking care of him.

When the day did arrive, you and a few other nurses helped him into a wheelchair so you could roll him out of the hospital and wait for his transportation to arrive. Earlier that morning, Oikawa had made sure to stop by to say his farewells, and watching that exchange, alone, had nearly broken your heart. Now, as you sat on a bench beside Iwaizumi's wheelchair, you regarded him with a gentle gaze.

He seemed to notice the sadness lurking behind your (e/c) eyes because he asked, "So, what are you gonna treat me to when I come back?"

Blushing slightly, you suggested, "How about some good, old fashioned ramen? I know a great place."

"Sounds great."

A vehicle's engine groaning interrupted the peaceful moment between the two of you, turning your attention to a van as it pulled up the the curb. Upon seeing men in military uniform exit and rush to open the sliding doors for Iwaizumi's arrival, you stood, brushing off your white coat and moving behind the wheelchair so you could push him over to where his comrades waited expectantly. When he was situated inside the shuttle, he turned to look at you with a small smile that eased the knot of anxiety in your stomach.

"Hey, I know I was one of your favorite patients and all, but try not to miss me too much, okay?"

He reached for your hand, so you wrapped your fingers around it, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Be safe out there, Iwaizumi-san." After saying your farewells, you released your grip on his hand and stepped back onto the curb so the men could close the doors and hop back into the van. Slowly, the vehicle kicked into drive and you stood in silence, watching it until it disappeared around the corner and down the street. A beep on your watch reminded you it was time for your next appointment, so you turned on your heels and quickly walked back inside the hospital, trying to quell the sadness that made your entire body feel cold.

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The first weeks after Iwaizumi's discharge were difficult, to say the least. You thought about him more often than you'd expected to, and you even missed his whiny friend being in and out, striking up conversation with you. Luckily, you'd known these days were going to be difficult, and you'd spent time before his departure mentally preparing yourself. You weren't going to be any good at treating your current patients if your incessant thoughts about a previous one were taking up your time and energy.

As the days turned to weeks, and the weeks flowed into months, you soon felt at ease once again. While he didn't leave your mind entirely, you found that you started worrying about him less. You became more trusting of whomever's care he was in at the time instead of resisting the urge to call the facility and ask if they were doing this, that, and the other. Also, to give yourself a sense of closure and resolution, you had written Iwaizumi a letter and sent it to him, since the general who had informed you of his deployment had given you details about the facility that would be responsible for his care. Whether or not he'd received it, you didn't know, but you could only hope he did and carry on with your business.

In fact, you hadn't even realized that over a year had passed until you found out in the best possible way. After a long work week, you had decided to treat yourself by going to one of your favorite cafes in the area and having a nice cup of coffee. As you sat on a couch by yourself, mug in one hand and a good book in the other, you were suddenly disturbed from your peaceful state by a voice addressing you nearby.

"Dr. (l/n). Recognize me?"

Turning in the direction of the voice brought your shocked gaze to a tall man with an unfamiliar face. Along one side of it were jagged scars that danced along his skin, including one that had just narrowly missed one of his olive green eyes. In one hand, he held a cane that he was leaning on slightly for support.

"Uh," you uttered, unsure of what exactly to say to this man, "No. I'm sorry, have we met?"

A look of distraught shattered the smile on the man's face, and you instantly felt your stomach drop with guilt. Before you could offer any condolences, however, his eyes lit up and he pulled a piece of paper from the pocket inside his coat. "I got your letter," he spoke again and handed you an envelope that had already been ripped open. When you read your own handwriting on it spelling out the name Iwaizumi Hajime, you tossed your book aside, set your coffee down, and leapt up from your seat.

"Iwaizumi-san! You're back! And you're standing!" you cheered, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into a hug, "God, I'm so sorry I didn't recognize you; I've just never seen your full face before." One of his arms circled your back to return your embrace before you pulled away and patted the couch, insisting that he sit. "So, you really did read my letter, huh? That's how you knew to look for me here, didn't you?" you asked with a bright smile.

He nodded and said, "I'm back here in Tokyo now, so you were the first person I wanted to see. Well, aside from Shittykawa."

"Why's that?"

Noticing the slight tinge of pink on your cheeks made him grin. "Well, I never got the chance to formally ask you out on a date. So, does that offer to go and get ramen still stand? And, if so, wanna go tonight?"

Your blush deepened, making you hide your face behind your coffee mug as subtly as you could before chirping, "Of course!"

"It's a date, then," he announced. A short moment of silence passed as the two of you sat and stared at one another, caught up in mutual feelings of relief and joy at being reunited. "Well, I think it's about time I got your damn number."

With a giddy laugh, you took the cellphone he offered you and typed in your contact information. "You're not gonna stick around, then?" you asked when he planted his cane on the ground and prepared to stand up again.

He grumbled, "I would, but Trashykawa and his wife are gonna be here any second now to pick me up and take me shopping for new clothes."

As if on cue, the front door of the coffee shop burst open and a familiar man pranced inside. "Iwa-chan!" he called when he noticed his friend, "Time to go get you a new outfit for your date tonight!" He wiggled his eyebrows at both of you, not caring that he'd just called him out in front of not only the entire coffee shop, but his date herself.

This time, it was Iwaizumi's turn to blush, and his cheeks turned a deep shade of red. His embarrassment was endearing, you thought, and you planted a gentle kiss against the side of his burning face. "I'm looking forward to seeing what Oikawa picks out for you to wear later."