A/n : Another Twitter AU ! 5.8k word one shot ! Jinkook in a hospital setting. I hope you enjoy :)
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The operating room was silent except for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. The air felt heavy, filled with the anxiety of the surgical team watching in awe as Jeongguk worked with precision that left no room for mistakes.
"Scalpel," Jeongguk’s voice was calm, devoid of emotion, even as he navigated the most critical part of the procedure. His hands were steady, performing the delicate task of repairing the torn aorta of a 16 year old young patient. Everyone in the room held their breath, knowing that the slightest misstep would mean death.
But Jeongguk didn’t even blink.
The chief nurse handed him the tool without delay, watching his face for any sign of strain or doubt, but there was nothing. He was a machine, emotionless, efficient...always in control. Even in the face of a surgery that others might hesitate to take on, Jeongguk didn’t flinch. It was what made him famous in the hospital....his ability to handle high-risk cases with a level of detachment that bordered on inhuman.
Minutes later, he tied off the final suture, sealing the incision with the same calculated ease. The monitor's beeps remained steady, a quiet testament to the life he'd just saved.
"Vitals stable," one of the residents whispered, awe in his voice.
The room, still charged with tension, felt as if it might burst with the collective relief of the staff. They exchanged glances, some smiling, others almost letting out sighs of gratitude.
"Excellent work, Dr. Jeon," the chief nurse finally said, voice shaky with residual nerves.
Jeongguk gave a slight nod, not looking up from the patient as he stripped off his gloves and handed them off. His expression didn’t shift. No pride, no satisfaction—just the same cold, efficient demeanor. This was just another day, another successful surgery.
He didn’t wait for congratulations. He didn’t care. Jeongguk removed his mask, eyes sharp but empty, and headed for the door as if what he had done was nothing more than routine.
"Prepare for post-op," he ordered, his voice already distant as he left the room.
Behind him, the team exchanged uneasy glances. They celebrated quietly, though no one dared show too much emotion in front of him. For Jeongguk, saving a life was just part of the job. There was no room for celebration. There never was.
At 34 years old, Jeon Jeongguk was already a legend at SeoulCare Hospital. As the head of Cardiothoracic Surgery, he was the best in his field—an untouchable genius with hands capable of pulling people back from the brink of death. His name was spoken with a mix of fear and reverence, his skills unmatched, his focus unshakable. For the medical community, working under him was both a blessing and a curse... it was a chance to learn from the best but also an experience fraught with the constant pressure to meet his impossibly high standards.
Jeongguk was a mystery, both inside and outside the hospital walls. He didn't engage in small talk, didn’t linger in the doctors' lounge for idle chatter, and never shared details about his life outside of work. Most of the staff only knew him in the same sterile, professional way he handled his surgeries... calm, efficient, and terrifyingly perfect. No one knew what he did when he wasn’t in scrubs. No one had ever seen him out of the hospital, and he offered no clues about his personal life.
He was always punctual, the kind of man who arrived precisely on time for rounds and never once missed a surgery. His routine was flawless...everything about him was orderly, from his meticulously pressed white coat to his perfectly styled hair. His sharp, dark eyes never betrayed anything beyond a clinical detachment. And while his professionalism was admired, it also kept everyone at a distance.
