Post #21

[seoulfulness]

Fics ( #20)

notice me this year exo, kris/tao
trois exo, fem!Sehun/luhan/kai
A Matter of Perspective exo, kris/luhan
clandestine exo; kris/baekhyun
untitled beast, doojoon/dongwoon
untitled snsd, hyoyeon/seohyun
untitled infinite, sunggyu/dongwoo

There's a new delicious archive for seoulfulness run by anon(s) who aren't me hereFor flat view,

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fill: lovebug (1/?)

[anonymous]

Wu Yifan is your average doctor. Four years of medical school, four years of residency, and now, after two years of being in surgery, a cardiologist in Seoul National University Hospital. He’d transferred to South Korea in high school, a bumbling teenager trying to pick his way through a foreign country and adolescence at the same time, but had refused to let the language barrier affect his lifelong dream. Two years of studying Korean and medical textbooks under a flashlight at 3 AM had paid off - he'd gotten himself into Seoul National University’s medical program on a scholarship.

Here he is, after 10 years of being in medicine, and admittedly growing slightly tired of it all. Days are mostly mundane amidst the life-threatening situations he is thrust into - two years of watching people die is plenty to get one’s heart down and cynicism up, and Yifan’s never really been much of an optimist, anyway. No time to think of happy thoughts, nor let your worries smack you in the face when you’re juggling intensive Korean and medicine prep courses, and even less when you have a practical examination to prepare the day after your 20,000 word thesis is due. He’d been so pumped to get into medical school, and so pumped to graduate even four years later, but residency had been not quite like what he’d imagined, and surgery had done nothing to save this. You get used to the disappointments after a while, his mentor had told him when he’d first assisted with a major operation and watched the heart rate monitor slow to a flat, horizontal beep after a frenzy of peaks. Things like that just happen, the supervising surgeon had told him, it sounds real heartless, but save yourself before you can save other people. Yifan hadn’t really understood that then, and had gone and gotten himself so sloshed Yixing had had to call Zitao for backup to move him back to his apartment, but now he does stop treating cases on the operating table as a personal thing - just to keep himself from going insane, really.

It’s the last hour of his shift in the A&E now, Yifan staring at his shoes while waiting for the next emergency to come through the doors - he really must get around to looking for a new pair soon. The buzz of the hospital nurses picking up calls and typing away on their keyboards drones on as he watches beds with patients in them get wheeled past the doors, nurses flustered and harried and sometimes weary. Yifan fiddles with his phone and turns the vibration off, on, off. A nurse that’s been sending him overt signals for quite some time now drops by and offers him a tupperware of homemade cookies, but he pushes them back into her hands with a small, tight smile. She’s a nice person, but he’s learnt to not get too close to anyone in the hospital, not even the ones rendering help. You never know. Yifan is a clever man, and opening yourself up to someone and letting them have the power to destroy you is the dumbest thing anyone could ever do, in his opinion. Zitao had told him that this was such a depressing thing to think, how is he ever going to find anyone to be real friends with, let alone someone to love, like that? Yifan doesn’t care. A whole, albeit lonely, heart is a lot better than a damaged one, and he’s seen enough broken ones in his residency stint in the cardiology unit to know that repaired hearts are never quite the same again.

He can hear the sounds of an ambulance siren, muffled by wind and space, so he gets to his feet and waits in anticipation for the doors to be thrown open. This time it’s a young man, gasping for breath on the gurney as the paramedics rush to lay him on a bed in the A&E room, the oxygen mask off-kilter on his face. Yifan grabs his stethoscope to gauge a heartbeat: weak, pulse erratic, and looks up at the paramedics for background.