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ONESHOT | 35
"Scalpel." Jungkook's voice was sharp, unwavering. The operating room was silent except for the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the hurried movements of the surgical team. Sweat beaded on the brows of his assistants, but he remained unaffected—his gloved hands working with precise, calculated movements. The patient on the table was at death's door, their pulse weak, their breathing erratic. Any other surgeon would have called it hopeless. But Jungkook wasn't just any surgeon. "Clamp. Now." His team scrambled to follow his orders, their hands shaking while his remained steady. The room was suffocating with tension, everyone waiting for the inevitable failure. But Jungkook never failed. Minutes passed like hours until—
"Vitals stabilizing, doctor!" A wave of relief spread through the room. The patient had survived. Jungkook exhaled slowly, barely reacting as the nurses exchanged grateful glances. Another life saved. Another battle won. He stepped away from the table, peeling off his gloves before discarding them into the waste bin. He removed his blood-stained gown and mask, his expression remaining cold and unreadable. "Great work, Dr. Jeon," one of the junior doctors spoke, hesitantly seeking his approval. Jungkook barely acknowledged them with a nod before pushing open the doors and leaving the operating room. The moment he stepped into the hallway, the weight of the surgery lifted, but his demeanor remained the same—detached, unreadable, untouchable. As he made his way toward the surgeon's lounge, he overheard the muffled chatter of a few nurses nearby. "I heard new interns are starting today. Wonder if any of them will last."
"Apparently, one of them is really bright—top of their class. And another one is the daughter of some hospital director." Jungkook scoffed under his breath. Interns. He had no interest in them. They came and went, most too incompetent to handle the pressure of a real hospital. He had neither the time nor the patience to babysit. "Dr. Choi is probably going to take them in, right?" "Who knows? Maybe Dr. Jeon will get one." Jungkook halted mid-step. His jaw clenched at the thought. The last thing he needed was an inexperienced intern trailing behind him, slowing him down. He was a surgeon, not a teacher. With a scoff, he pushed open the lounge door and stepped inside, hoping his superior wouldn't dare assign one of those interns to him. Little did he know, fate had other plans.
—
Jungkook stood near the nurse's station, flipping through a patient's chart with a sharp gaze. The words and numbers blurred together for a moment—he had been working for nearly 14 hours straight, but exhaustion was a weakness he refused to acknowledge. The hospital's fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, a constant reminder that this place never truly rested. Just as he turned a page, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hall—lighter, eager. He ignored it at first. Hospitals were always filled with noise. But then— "These are our new interns," a familiar voice announced. Jungkook's brows twitched. He didn't have to look up to know it was Dr. Choi, one of the senior doctors responsible for overseeing the internship program. Begrudgingly, he lifted his gaze, just for a second—long enough to see four fresh, nervous faces trailing behind him.
