Author's Note: This is mostly out of boredom. No idea if I'm even going to continue it properly, it all depends if I stop being lazy, and if I have time in between my hectic schedule. We'll see. So, here we go, another one of my dreadful fics to make you suffer.
I this fic might sound completely ridiculous to you - Like, hey. Since when does Ren know how to heal people (though Jun does), and since when was he hemophobic? It's called fiction, kids. Deal with it.
"Son of a bitch," Ren murmured to himself, thumbing rapidly through stacks of medical papers. He hated this job to hell, curse it to blazes. But he was sought out by the Patch for his education in shamanic medicine and practically forced into this stupid occupation. He had not come to Tokyo to become a medic. He had come to escape his duties to his family.
Despite being a member of the Tao family, one thing Ren completely despised was bloodshed. The very sight of a single drop of the liquid was enough to make his knees tremble and his head spin. He hated how his father would kill senselessly and however he pleased, it made him sick to his stomach. And being a medic threw him right into the chaos that he had sought to escape.
A man with a kindly but worn-out face glanced through the doorframe. Doctor Faust, the head of all things medical 'round here. His skills dwarfed Ren's by tenfold, but yet, he treated him kindly enough, and, unlike Ren, he was undaunted by the site of blood and the dying.
"Tao?" the man addressed in a tired fashion. "It'd be great if you could put down the paperwork and actually get something practical done."
With a scowl, Ren shoved the medical papers back into their respective cabinets, shoving them viciously closed.
"Careful, Tao," Faust warned. "Don't break those. They cost more than they look."
The Chinese boy rolled his golden eyes heavenward. "I know, I know," he snapped in irritation, yanking his apron off its hook and tying it around his thin waist, fumbling with the knot for a moment before finally dusting the fabric's front off and exiting the office, into the ward.
As he stepped into the ward, the all-too-familiar wave of nausea washed over him, almost overcoming him with the terrible dizziness and fear. But he supressed it - He couldn't bear to see Faust's disappointed expression again, the one that he held in his features whenever Ren was to let his fear get the better of him.
And then he got to work.
Presently, a young boy who couldn't have been much older than Ren strolled causally into the room, sporting an arm that had crudely been wrapped in strips of cloth as makeshift bandages. It looked painful - The blood was soaking directly through the cloth, but yet, this boy seemed to be in a rather pleasant mood. His injury didn't seem to bother him the slightest bit.
"Hey, sweetheart," he called cheerfully, nodding amiably in Ren's direction. "Would you mind letting me trouble you with my arm here?"
Ren gave the boy a quick glance. A shock of stunning blue hair and wide obsidian eyes that seemed to radiate with a strange warmth. It made Ren feel nice inside, as if...
He blinked abruptly.
"S-Sure," he managed to mutter. "If you could just seat yourself in one of those chairs..."
"Sounds good," was the cheerful reply. "By the way, the name's Usui Horokeu, but they all call me Horohoro. Go ahead and do the same if you feel like it. I presume you've got a name, too, sweetheart?"
"Tao Ren," Ren answered simply, annoyed by the way this "Horohoro" continuously kept calling him "sweetheart." It was actually rather irritating.
"Ren, huh? That's a pretty name. I'll remember that one, sweetheart."
There he went again. Damn whoever came up with the word "sweetheart," Ren thought bitterly.
"Look," he demanded, glaring at Horohoro. "I don't have time to make small talk with you. Shut up and let me concentrate on your arm. I don't need you chattering away and distracting me."
Horohoro blinked, appearing hurt for a moment. He shrugged it off. "If you insist, sweetheart. Whatever you say."
Damn him to hell.
Ren chose to ignore him as he gingerly cut the sloppily fastened cloth from Horohoro's arm, his breath coming out in shorter gasps as he tried to forget that it was stained with blood. He discarded them before placing a hand atop the injury.
"Ouch, that smarts. Sweetheart, mind being a little more gentle?"
"I'm sorry," Ren grumbled, not sounding very sorry at all. He quickly withdrew his hand, however, noting it was now stained with blood as well. He inhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the chair to steady himself, knuckles whitening, attempting to fight off the sickening fear.
"You alright there, sweetheart?"
"Never been better."
"Hey, sweetheart-"
"Don't call me that."
"Sorry, sweet- Ren. Hey, if you're hemophobic-"
"I'm not."
"Just saying, sweetheart, no- Ren...Just saying if you're feeling uncomfortable, I can just leave right now..."
"It's alright. I intend on finishing what I started."
Horohoro peered curiously into Ren's face, seeming to effortlessly read his emotions, before he commented, "Hey, has anyone ever told you that you've got real pretty eyes?"
Caught off guard, Ren's cheeks instantly flushed a slight pink. "I don't recall," he murmured.
"C'mon now, Ren. No worries, huh? There's no need to be shy." Horohoro grinned sheepishly, giving Ren's hand a little squeeze. "I've got no problem with it, you know. Don't be so tense, sweetheart. Want to smile a bit for me?"
"Shut up and let me concentrate, will you?" Ren hissed irritably.
"No worries, sweetheart. No worries."
Someone kill him now.
Well, that's chapter one...tell me what you thought and I'll see if I want to continue it.
