My Medicine
A fanfiction by: Mr.Trite
Behind his metallic visor, two eyes that were moon-white glared at the man sitting across from them, filled with hatred, anger, and any other negative emotion you could squeeze in there. "I hate you." He had spat, "I really, really do." The man whom the comment was directed to simply shrugged, tossing his bleached orange hair out of the slanted eyes that he, too, possessed, but it was not due to anger; Rather, it due to genes.
"Believe it or not," started the man in the white coat, a slow grin coming onto his face as a waiter brought him the latte he ordered, the cup crème colored with little flowers decorating the outside, "But- It's really kind of funny- But I actually get paid to save people's lives!" He faked a laugh, causing the white haired prosecutor to scowl. "I was fine."
The two sat across from each other in a little café, only across the street from the house in which Dr. Kyung Shin had found his patient, who had been- for lack of a better phrase- stoned beyond all meaning of the word. Especially so since, just thirty or so minutes ago, the young doctor had held a little 'intervention'.
A failed one, apparently.
"So," began the doctor, pouring even more milk into his coffee, "Where'd you get the drugs, Mr. Godot? Care to share? I'm all ears." The stubborn prosecutor only took a swing or his coffee, which was truly, the doctor had to admit, blacker than a moonless night.
Looking up from the white mug that he drank from, the prosecutor stared at the doctor's hands for the longest time, and then spoke.
"That's a pretty masculine cup you've got there, Doc. Very fitting." Dr. Shin sighed, rotating the cup in his hands slightly.
"Well excuse me, Mister Macho-Man. I'm sorry I don't have a special mug that I demand my coffee served in at all costs."
As his patient continued to drabble on about the mug and it being one of his silly 'rules', Dr. Shin looked around as sipping his latte, which contained about four cow's worth of milk that he had purposely spilled into it.
It was a sweet little café, he'd give it that. Actually, it was kind of hard to believe that this was the café where his cranky, sarcastic, and all around asshole of a patient spent his mornings. Did he read the paper, thought the doctor, or perhaps look over a few case files? All in all, it was a hard picture for Kyung's mind to paint. His black eyes then traveled to the only counter in the whole place, where three staff members stood eagerly behind it, and they were all staring at the same spot: His table. He gulped. Had he done something wrong…?
No. He realized that each staff member held a particular gleam in their eyes, all identical. Was that…happiness? He looked over to the prosecutor sitting across from him, who was looking down at the table, his finger tracing over words left by a teenager with all the time in the world in his hands, along with a black pen. Kyung looked again to the waiters, and it took all he had to keep his jaw from dropping. Does this guy really come in here that much that the staff actually waits on him on their hands and knees
Now, with Dr. Shin's back turned, his patient was staring at him, burning a hole into his white medical coat and further down into his back. The young man turned to face him, an uncomfortable look on his face, cheeks slightly pink in color. If there was one thing he hated, it was being stared at.
"Uhm…Can I help you?" Whoa, his mind reminded his mouth, Remember who you're talking to here! This isn't Dr. King, you know! Kyung cleared his throat, and his blush was soon replaced with a familiar smirk, arms crossed over his chest proudly as he flicked his bangs from his eyes. "Or are you finally ready to spill the pills—Err, beans?" Silence. Then, the prosecutor spoke, his words coming in slow.
"Your sweater…It's really ugly."
The doctor sighed, shaking his head. "You're impossible, you know that?" As he spoke, his patient looked out the window, taking a gulp from his white coffee mug, which was held firmly in between his two hands. "Are we talking to ourselves, Doctor?" he asked him, although not facing Dr. Shin directly. "Maybe you're the druggie here, not me."
Despite the attitude, Dr. Shin just smiled. "No, I think you're just driving me insane."
To the doctor's surprise, his patient laughed. "Well then, Mission Accomplished, Shinney-Boy. Mission Accomplished." A small chuckle escaped the young doctor before something in his mind clicked, and he stopped. "Hey." he warned, "Don't call me Shinney-Boy. And, for the record, my sweater is not ugly. I'll have you know it takes skill, making something like this."
The prosecutor wrinkled his nose. "You make your own clothes?" Dr. Shin nodded.
"Yes. It's always been a hobby of mine."
"What are you, some kind of sissy-boy?"
"At least I have a hobby. Maybe you should get one too, do something that's actually productive with your life? Hate to inform you, but shooting up on God-knows-what kind of drug isn't exactly a good way to pass the time."
"It's not a drug. Actually, it's more like…self-prescribed medication.
"Rrriigghhtt. I totally forgot heroin is considered medication now."
The white-haired prosecutor took a gulp of his coffee and slammed it down on the table, a few drops popping out of the empty mug like a jack-in-the-box. "Whatever."
As the hollow echo of the empty coffee mug hitting the table rang through out the small café, the three staff members from before came scurrying over like mice, carrying sugar, milk and of course, coffee. Coffee so black, it looked as though somebody had reached into the midnight sky one evening and took a chunk of it, preserving it until needed. Kyung looked into the glass pot with wide eyes, allowing his jaw to drop slightly out of place. Jesus. he thought in shock, He drinks coffee that bitter…In just FOUR GULPS?! Oh boy, I think I have a totally different addiction case on my hands… He began to massage his temples as he sighed- He could almost see the paperwork piling up in front of him, his sharp Korean eyes suddenly droopy at all the confusing words he terms that he would have to read. To write.
As Dr. Shin tired to fight off early signs of hand cramps, while figuring out how the hell he was going to write out all of that, let alone figure out how his patient didn't have a giant, burning hole smoldering inside of his intestines, the white-haired prosecutor smiled up at the trio that served him- A rare, honest smile that the doctor missed in his tumbling thoughts.
However, he did notice the way one of the members of the staff- One of the two females in the group- started to blush furiously. Dr. Shin expected a laugh to come out of his patient at the woman's sudden burst of emotion, but his expectations were short lived. As a matter of fact, the man just kept on smiling- It was almost as if, he realized, that his patient couldn't see the blush at all.
"Thanks, Kittens." said the blind man with the charm of a true gentleman in his voice. And finally, with a regal wave of his hand, the three were ushered away, quick as the wind. The doctor could only shake his head in disbelief.
"This is incredible." He muttered, his bleached orange bangs falling over his eyes, "Absolutely incredible." The prosecutor turned to look at him, arching a white eyebrow.
"What?" The Korean just kept shaking his head. He looked down into the little cup he had been absentmindedly sipping from, the one with the little flowers decorating it. He stared into the pale pink inside of the cup, shining softly like a recently painted Easter egg.
"I've needed a refill for about twenty minutes, and you? You get one in less than twenty seconds. Why is that?"
At this, the prosecutor cracked a grin, taking a gulp of his recently poured coffee. "Maybe they hate you." he suggested, causing Dr. Shin to sigh yet again. He stared up to the ceiling with a smile, so small you might not be able to see it unless you squinted.
Or, in the case of the white-haired man, the man who didn't deserve to be alive, the man who couldn't save Mia Fey nor Diego Armando, maybe all it took was a man who had shared those same, sad smiles.
"Yeah," agreed Dr. Shin. "Maybe they do."
The prosecutor looked at him with a trace of emotion hidden behind a mask, and not just the one on his face.
"Nah. A well respected doctor like you…You don't know what hatred is, do you?"
With that, the man rose from his seat, looking at the doctor that had made his life hell, then down at the cup, and decided that now could be a good time to punch Dr. Kyung Shin straight in the jaw, much before he had a chance to answer the question.