Author's Note: Hello, everyone! This story is a long, long time in the making. I wasn't even sure I wanted to upload it! But, I figured I might as well..
This story might feature a large cast and some less-than-canonically-plausible pairings. Bare with me! They will make sense in context of the fic.
Please leave reviews!
The beginning of a new year brought the scent of fresh blood. He stood under the arched entrance of the hospital, white coat hardly protecting him from the chill of the Northern wind. In his short time at Shin'o Memorial Hospital, the young doctor had seen his bumbling peers succeed, and his mentors crash and burn, bright stars fading into the night.
So where would he stand?
It had been a mere four years since he'd donned his white coat and clipped his pager to his belt. Four years. It felt like an eternity, but what could be established in four years? He'd grown roughly two feet of hair, perhaps. He'd logged hundreds and hundreds of hours in the Operating Room. He'd saved hundreds of lives.. but dozens more had slipped out of his hands. Was he really prepared to impart his knowledge upon the next generation of surgeons?
"You're doing it again."
The young doctor snapped out of his thoughts, interrupted by a familiar voice, and an equally familiar smirk.
"This happens every year, Ishida. You have a little panic attack about being responsible for the idiocy of others. Then you get your interns, that superiority complex kicks back in full force, and you kick ass."
"...Thank you for your vote of confidence, Dr. Kurosaki," Uryuu said with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
Ichigo rubbed the back of his neck. "All I'm saying is that Yamamoto didn't make you Chief Resident for nothing. You're the best we've got."
"Oh? What about you?" Uryuu retorted. Ichigo ruffled the hair on the back of Uryuu's head.
"Didn't want it."
Uryuu smirked and gave an accompanying eye roll. "By 'didn't want it,' you mean 'Just happy that Dr. Jaegerjacques didn't get it?'"
"You know me so well," Ichigo purred.
"He's a very competent doctor, you know. Very enthusiastic."
"One of his interns jumped ship in the first three months to become a goddamn prosthetist, Uryuu."
"...Point taken."
The pair of doctors entered the hospital, beelining to the elevator. The surgical floor was going to be a whirlwind of activity. Not that it wasn't usually, but the arrival of new interns was always chaotic. Overzealous, cocky interns didn't mesh well with overinflated, cranky residents and attendings. Uryuu was just thankful that he'd managed to get a full night's rest.
He opened the door to the intern locker room slowly, not wanting to further rattle the group of nervous bunny rabbits that were sure to be inside. He held his clipboard at hip-level, nudged his glasses up, and looked at the group of interns.
"Dr. Renji Abarai?"
The first to stand did so with a jump, like a flame jumping to the sky. And 'flame' was certainly the right descriptor. The young man was tall and built strongly, red hair tied tightly. Judging from the smirk on his heavily tattooed face as he approached, Uryuu knew that he'd have to keep an eye on that one.
"Dr. Momo Hinamori?"
The girl who stood seemed quiet, and hardly made eye contact with him as she fell into line behind Dr. Abarai. They seemed to be fairly friendly, at least, as Renji reached out and offered to shake her hand. Her smile was bright and relieved. She had an innocent beauty about her. She worried him.
"Dr. Shuuhei Hisagi?"
Nobody rose. The occupants of the room looked around, and began to whisper. Oh well. It was no business of his.
"Settle down," he said sternly. "Dr. Izuru Kira?"
A nervous-looking blonde joined his line, and was greeted by a smile from Dr. Abarai. Had he made connections early, or was he overly friendly?
Uryuu took a second to focus on the next name. "Dr. Rukia Kuchiki?"
The girl looked exactly like he thought she would. She was short in stature, but held her head high as she stood behind Dr. Kira in line. Maybe Dr. Abarai wasn't the one to watch?
"Come with me," he said gently, leading the line of interns down the hall to the nurse's station. "My name is Dr. Uryuu Ishida. I am a fourth year resident, and I am incumbent chief resident. I'd like to take this moment to share with you my rules. These are not the hospital's rules, but they are mine. I suggest following them to keep me happy. Happy resident means happy interns. Unhappy resident means interns who get to hold clamps and sign charts until their hands fall off. Are we clear?" he asked.
The interns nodded wordlessly.
"Excellent. My first rule is-"
"WAIT! WAIT! Wait, I'm- fuck. I'm here!"
Uryuu's eyes narrowed as he turned, spotting a young man running toward him in what had to be a full sprint. He skidded to a stop in front of them, narrowly avoiding bowling over Dr. Hinamori and Dr. Kuchiki. Uryuu simply sighed as the man rubbed his tattooed cheek and ran fingers through his short, choppy black hair.
"Dr. Hisagi, I assume?"
"At your service. Sorry. There was an.. a thing in the-"
"Save it. Join the rest. You're just in time." He looked at Dr. Kira. "Dr. Kira, what would would you imagine to be rule number one?" he asked, nose raised slightly.
"...Be punctual?" came the meek response.
"Excellent instincts," Uryuu stated, looking at Dr. Hisagi. "If you are late, you do more than anger your resident or attending. You also risk the life of your patient." The group nodded in understanding.
"Rule number two is to understand your place. You are interns. You don't have input. You do, however, have opinions. I suggest running them by me first. Nine times out of ten, all you're going to spout is unintelligible nonsense." He led them down the hall, stopping at a room and producing five pages from his pocket. He handed them out while he spoke.
"This is the on-call room, which brings me to rule number three. Knock. This preserves your eyesight, and avoids concussion, depending on who's in there." The look of confusion on his interns' faces made him smirk. He opened the door with a thud. Inside were two sets of bunkbeds, a television, and a desk. On the bottom bunk of the nearest bed, a mass of white hair moved, and a blanket was pushed aside.
"...Is that a child?" Dr. Kuchiki asked incredulously. Uryuu hushed her.
The man in the bed rose, and couldn't stand any taller than four and a half feet. He had a stern look on his face, and looked to be grumpy by nature, as well as pissed off about his ruined nap.
"You. Give me five reasons for post-operative fever." He pointed at Izuru.
"Uhh..."
"No. You." He pointed at Momo.
"Water, Wind, Walking, Wounds, and… wonder-drugs?"
"Meaning what? You're going to tell a patient they can't leave because they have 'wind?'" Brow raise.
Shuuhei bit his lip to keep from laughing.
"Water is a UTI. Bladder infection from the Foley catheter," Rukia offered up. "Wind is pneumonia, walking is either a pulmonary embolism or deep vein thrombosis. Wounds is an infected wound, and wonderdrugs is…"
"We don't know," Renji butted in. "Probably something related to a drug that was given, but who knows."
The short doctor seemed satisfied, and looked at Uryuu. "Looks like you have your work cut out for you, Dr. Ishida," he smirked. "Never wake me up again unless someone is dead, dying, or on fire."
Dr. Ishida closed the door quietly, and continued on his way.
"That was Dr. Hitsugaya, our Chief of Trauma Surgery. Demanding specialty, but rewarding when done correctly. Moving on."
Uryuu took them to the outside of an empty patient room. "Expanding on Dr. Hitsugaya's statement- have a good reason to page me. If your patient is actively dying, then by all means. However, if you page me because your patient has the sniffles, or if you managed to kill them, don't cut into my naptime. Not only will your patient be dead, but you'll have an angry resident. Dr. Abarai, what did I say about unhappy residents?"
"...That they'll make you hold clamps and sign charts until your hands fall off?"
"Very good. Now. This is when I send you on your happy little ways," he said. "Kira. Ask the nurse at the station for my charts, and go do workups. Abarai, labs. Hinamori, go do post-ops. Kuchiki-" He was interrupted by the sound of a beeping pager. "You're with me. Let's move!" he roared, taking off at a jog, Rukia hot on his heels.
Shuuhei stood as his peers dispersed.
"...What about me?"
"This is bullshit," Shuuhei mumbled, turning to Renji. "How come we have to do baby work while she gets to see real action? I'll bet she's scrubbing in right now!"
"That's a lot to assume," Momo stated, reaching across the desk to grab a chart. "He probably just needs to get to know everyone, and she was first on the list, I guess."
"Doesn't help that she's inbred."
Everyone turned to Izuru.
"Inbred?" Shuuhei asked, eyebrow raised.
Izuru nodded. "She's the sister of a surgeon here. A good one. Neuro, if I recall. And I think I remember seeing 'Dr. Kuchiki' on the board for a… tumor resection."
"Well, that explains it," Renji grumbled. "He's trying to impress Big Kuchiki. Better strap on your ballsacks, guys- and Momo," he amended quickly. "We're going to have to work twice as hard to see the inside of an OR as she is."
"And you really think that the best way to do that is to sit with your thumbs up your asses?" The interns froze and turned.
"Oh. Dr. Hitsugaya.. how long have you been there?" Momo asked shyly.
"I've been here the whole time," he deadpanned, closing the chart he'd been occupying himself with.
"Oh. I'm sorry. I just.. didn't.. you're so.."
"Short?" he asked, turning toward them. "Look. Let's end this here. Uryuu Ishida is not one to pick favourites. He's royalty himself, you know. Even if the girl's related to his mentor. The Princess is about as easy to impress as I am," he grumbled. "He just grabbed an intern. Which is what I'm doing now. Blondie, come with me. The rest of you, fight over whatever he was supposed to be doing."
Without any time for protest, Izuru took off after Hitsugaya.
Renji and Shuuhei slumped against the desk.
"Hey. D'ya know where I can find Dr. Ishida? I've got his films for-"
"Did you try paging him?" the nurse asked, looking at him with an exasperated expression.
"Yeah! What do you think I am, dumb? I paged him twice. He won't answer." Renji leaned against the counter.
"Then he's probably kinda busy, huh?" The nurse looked at the board. "He's stabilizing a pelvis fracture with Dr. Kurosaki. Is it an emergency?" The nurse returned her gaze to Renji.
"Well, it's a goddamn head CT! What do you think," Renji grumbled.
"May I see?"
Renji jumped, and turned to look at whoever'd snuck up behind him. The man before him wasn't particularly tall, but had the presence of a grizzly bear. He was thin and elegant, and those purple-blue eyes penetrated his soul. The hair that brushed past his shoulders, though greasy from hours of work, looked soft and inviting.
Holy hell, was this love at first sight?
Renji handed the films over without a word, and followed as the doctor disappeared into a consult room. Renji's eyes were focused on his hands as he removed the films from the envelope. He'd seen so many hands over his years. But those were the most beautiful hands he'd ever seen in his life.
"What do you see, Doctor..?"
"Abarai. Renji Abarai."
"Dr. Abarai. What do you see on these films?" he asked, turning toward the intern. Renji stepped closer, and scanned every millimeter of those images, not wanting to make a fool of himself.
"...Saccular aneurysm. Right.. there." He pointed, and looked at the more experienced surgeon.
"Excellent," came the reply. "Who is your resident?"
"Dr. Ishida, sir."
The black-haired doctor nodded. "He'll be happy to know that he has an errand boy who can read a CAT scan. Good. You are dismissed. If Dr. Ishida gives you hell, tell him that Dr. Kuchiki detained you."
Wait, Dr. Kuchiki? Renji looked up as the man put the films away. Dr. Kuchiki's eyes met his once again.
"Is there a problem?"
"No, sir. Thank you."
Two trays of food in-hand, Shuuhei sat between Renji and Momo, immediately digging into his shitty cafeteria meatloaf.
"I had a patient get so nervous, his blood pressure spiked, and he shot me with blood! I thought that only happened in movies," Izuru complained.
"Yeah? Well, I had a patient pee on me while I was doing post-ops," Momo whined, nibbling her sandwich.
"They didn't pee on you. You ran into their foley bag and bust it wide open," Shuuhei teased her, stealing a french fry off of her plate. Momo looked scandalized.
"Hey! You already have two trays!" she said.
"No food stealing. It's the law of the land," Rukia butted in. "So, Renji. Any horror stories?" she asked. He just blushed, hiding behind his pudding cup.
"Ohhh, get over yourself," Shuuhei nudged him in the side. "He's questioning his sexuality," he explained.
"Am not!" Renji retorted, shoving a spoonful of pudding into his mouth.
"He met your brother and hasn't stopped blushing since," Izuru stated. Rukia sat back and rolled her eyes.
"Please. He's not that hot. Trust me. I've seen him shirtless." She grinned, leaning forward. "Oh, and Renji? I've seen him naked. In the shower. Soaking wet," she said, wanting to see if she could get his face to match his hair color.
"How can you talk about your brother like that?" Momo asked.
"And how is it that I keep walking in on uncomfortable situations?" All of the interns turned to see Dr. Hitsugaya, hands on his hips.
"As some of you know, the first procedure is saved for the intern that shows the most promise in the OR. I've had input from a few other doctors.. and they've recommended Dr. Kira." He pat the blonde's back. "Twenty minutes, OR 2. And can someone hose Dr. Casanova off? He's creeping me out."
As Hitsugaya walked away, Renji looked at his peers. "...Remember what I said about strapping on ballsacks, guys?"
Izuru Kira was beginning to think that this nurse hated him, if she was capable of that much emotion. If he so much as wiggled his nose, she would turn and look at him with creepy, dead eyes, and very calmly state that he broke scrub.
"You touched me that time!" Izuru grumbled, trudging back to the sink for the third time in the past fifteen minutes.
"How do you think he'll do?" Renji asked, leaning forward and taking a chip offered by Momo.
"Fine," she shrugged. "But I think he'd better manage to scrub in first."
"Ten bucks says he can't even make the incision. Dude, what if he's totally squeamish and, like, passes out?" Shuuhei asked, nudging Renji in the side.
Rukia rolled her eyes. "But he gets to cut. And where are you right now?" she teased, snagging one of Momo's chips for herself.
The gallery went quiet as Izuru finally entered the OR, arms raised. There were more doctors in the room than Momo had expected. Were there supposed to be four surgeons for an appendectomy? It was always called such an easy procedure.
"One step at a time, Dr. Kira." The advice came from Dr. Ishida, who was standing at his left shoulder.
Izuru took a deep breath, staring down at the prepped surgical field. He let it out slowly. 'I can do this' ran through his head, but what came out of his mouth was.. "Ten blade, please." And with deceptively steady hands, Izuru sliced through his patient's skin along the purple mark.
The interns in the gallery observed with baited breath, watching their colleague reach his hands inside of the patient on the table. Some watched with pure interest. Some watched with hope, encouraging Izuru quietly in their heads and in their hearts. The rest were hoping that he'd fail, be it to collect a bet or to feel better about their bruised egos. Surgery was probably the most difficult medical specialty, full of cut-throats and subterfuge. If they were going to survive, their skins would have to grow thick enough to withstand the trauma of being snubbed for a surgery.
Izuru's hands moved with pure raw talent, carefully following the directions of his resident without the advantage of muscle memory. The other doctors in the room watched with interest, seeming ready to jump in at any given time, should their little protege lose his confidence, or make a disastrous error. Rukia tensed as she noticed the two residents step in a little closer.
"Appendix is out," Izuru announced. If his face was visible, the operating room would have been illuminated with the glow of his smile. In her seat, Dr. Hinamori clapped quietly and enthusiastically.
"Awesome," came the reply of one of the stand-by doctors. "Now invert the stump into the cecum, and pull up on your purse strings."
Izuru obeyed without delay. The room was quiet. He looked up at his resident, worried that he'd done something wrong. "What do I do next?" he asked curiously.
Uryuu nodded at the other surgeons. "We close. Very good, Dr. Kira."
Momo cleared her throat, holding her hand out.
"You're kidding."
"I'm not kidding! In all the time I've seen that procedure done, I've never seen an intern handle it so well! I knew I should have put my vote in for Hisagi," Uryuu grumbled, sitting down with his meal.
"Remember when Inoue did it? She tore her lady a new asshole in the center of her abdominal cavity. I'll never forget that meek little 'Whoopsie-daisy!'" Dr. Kurosaki chuckled, taking a sip of his tea. "If that's what your least skilled intern can do, it looks like you've got your work cut out for you. Don't come bitching to me when your interns flock to me for the chance to learn something," he grinned cockily. Ishida rolled his eyes.
"Look, Dr. Ishida has friends," Shuuhei pointed out. The interns were seated at a cafeteria table, surrounded by charts, lab results, and the occasional wordsearch. Izuru was forging signatures for Dr. Ishida, who had determined that they both had impeccable, calligraphy-esque handwriting. Why not use that to his advantage?
"I've noticed that there's not very many lone wolves here," Rukia observed. "I've been exposed to it a little bit longer, but there's a strong sense of camaraderie among surgeons. After all, they hardly ever leave the hospital." She turned her gaze toward her brother, who had an x-ray held up to the harsh fluorescent lights as he took a bite out of an apple. "I swear, he only comes home once a week."
"That's because he's a neurosurgeon," Momo pointed out. "There are only two in the hospital, aren't there? One has to stay on staff at all times, or we can't call ourselves a Trauma Center."
The conversation was cut short by the beeping of several pagers. Dr. Ishida stood, waving for his interns to follow.
"Duty calls," Hisagi grinned.
Twenty-four hours had come and gone. The interns were seated on the benches in the locker room, unable to move. Their bodies were used to long nights, but nothing with such a high stress level.
"I'm going to go sleep for a year," Renji complained, sitting in his underwear.
"We have rounds in twelve hours!" Rukia cried, smacking him on the back of the head. Renji whined in pain, rubbing his injury.
Izuru stretched himself out, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. "I haven't even found a place yet," he grumbled. "I'm going to have to see if the hotel across the street has an extra bed. It's probably cheaper than an apartment in town." He threw his access into the scrub disposal. "But first, I need coffee. Real coffee."
"The IHOP next door doesn't suck. Trust me, it's the best hangover food on the planet, and this counts as a hangover." Renji was still in his underwear. He protested weakly as Rukia tried to haul him to his feet.
"Come on, buddy. I'll drive you home. I saw that damn deathcycle out there." Rukia turned toward Momo, who had stayed rather quiet.
The girl was passed out on the bench.
"Let her sleep. That's gonna be all of us at one point or another," Shuuhei grinned. "See you all tomorrow."