Sungmi was on check-up rounds the next week, along with her mentor and fellow two trainees. Out of the three of them, it seemed like Luhan had a God-given talent for medicine, whilst Yixing was just as lost as Sungmi was most of the time. Suho really was a good mentor though, even more so than he had been back at the academy. The best thing about him, Sungmi thought, was his trust in his students. He would ask them questions and allow them to learn from their own mistakes.

And it was because of this trust that Sungmi found herself sitting at one of the check-up tables, currently inspecting a healed up mark on a young man’s arm with a beady-eyed Suho watching over from behind.

“Will I live?” the man asked almost teasingly, given the tiny mark left on his arm from whatever had happened to him.

“It might scar,” she told him honestly, placing his arm down again after her inspection and taking off her surgical gloves to make a note of it. “But you’ll definitely live.”

“Well that’s a relief,” he muttered jokingly, pulling his sleeve back down.

“How did you get that injury, Minseok?” Suho asked from over Sungmi’s shoulder, clearly familiar with this man. If Sungmi remembered correctly, Boah had also mentioned a Minseok. Perhaps he was on of the higher-ups.

“One of the newbies is a little weak using weapons. He couldn’t even tell where the blade ended.”

Suho looked a little surprised by this. “How long has he been here?”

Minseok shrugged lightly, getting to his feet. “Who can say? He’ll probably just be put into a diversion team.”

Sungmi felt herself stiffen a little at his words, and more so at the relaxed way with which he spoke. It was like it wasn’t a big deal to him how that boy they were talking about was going to be used in an almost sacrificial manner. Beside her, Yixing seemed to fidget a little, too.

“I better get back,” Minseok said, smiling to Suho and then to Sungmi. “Good job on the arm.”

When he left, Sungmi swivelled in her seat to look at Suho.

As if sensing what her next words would be, he let out a little sigh, closing his eyes over. “Don’t start, Sungmi. I know what you’re thinking.”

“How could he just say that?” she demanded, acting like Suho hadn’t even spoken. “That’s somebody’s life.”

“Captain Minseok isn’t a bad person, Sungmi. He’s served the military for a long time, and he’s a great tactician.”

There was a retort on the tip of Sungmi’s tongue, and not an overly pleasant one at that, but it was stopped when the door to the cabin opened again and another three people walked in for their check-ups. Among the faces was one that Sungmi recognised, or at least thought that she did. His rather straight face and general lack of interest in his surroundings was what was making her question this though.

A little to her discomfort, he sat down in front of her just as Suho moved to help Yixing who seemed to have a rather difficult case to deal with now.

Clearing a little, Sungmi couldn’t help but feel awkward. Had she met this boy before or not? Instinct said yes, but her common sense told her that she would have remembered seeing a face like his.

Instead of making the decision for herself, she forced on a smile which was met with a rather apathetic expression. “How can I help you?” she asked, voice feignedly sweet.

“You probably can’t,” the boy snorted in return.

Sungmi’s eyebrow rose at his words, wondering how professional it would be to just throw him out. With Suho so close by though, she really didn’t think that would be a good move.

“Where is your injury?” she asked, fighting to keep her voice even.

The boy’s eyebrow rose a little, matching Sungmi’s so that the two of them looked like they were just sitting there silently judging one another.

“Don’t you know that already?” the boy challenged.

“If I did, I wouldn’t be asking,” she bit back, unable to keep a little venom from lacing her words.

“I really don’t know why they’re even letting trainees do stuff like this… ” the boy muttered to himself discontentedly as he sat back in the chair, but there was no mistake that he said it loud enough for her to hear.

Wow. Sungmi couldn’t help but thank her mother at that moment for teaching her that violence wasn’t the way to solve arguments, or else this ‘patient’ would also have a black eye.

“If you don’t want a check-up, then feel free to leave,” she replied icily, picking up a pen and pretending to look busy.

There was a very audible sigh of irritation, then a shifting. Sungmi looked up to see the boy undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, revealing a very prominent collar bone, then promptly lifted his arm out of the gap he created. There was a deep purple, slightly yellowing mark on the top of his arm, just below the curve of his shoulder.

Although feeling a little smug that he had relented, Sungmi just put on a fresh pair of gloves to inspect the injury without saying any snide remarks. She liked to think that she wasn’t petty like that.

“How did you get this?” she asked, gently touching the area around the wound.

The boy didn’t reply straight away, and it gave Sungmi a slight urge to prod the injury just to get a reaction from him.

“Your brother dropped a beam onto it when we were training,” he finally said.

Sungmi’s inspection stopped and she looked up to the boy’s face. He was looking at her almost expectantly, his expression apprehensive now.

So she had met him before, it seemed. How else would he have known that she had a brother here?

“When was this?” Sungmi asked him, looking back to the mark but was really wondering about Sunghee. If it was recently, then it was possible that Sunghee had injuries from it, too. And why on earth would Sunghee be lifting something as heavy as this in the first place?

The boy shrugged. “About two weeks ago.”

Sungmi was more than a little surprised by this. If it had been two weeks and this boy’s shoulder was still his bad, then what had it been like at the time?

“Was there any serious internal damage?” she asked, gently prodding the edge of the injury but pulling back when she saw him flinch in pain. Sungmi didn't wait for his answer and walked over to the pile of files, carrying them to the table with her. She felt a little bad for having to ask him this, but she honestly hadn’t a clue what to look him up under. “Name?”

There was a little pause. “Oh Sehun.”

Wasting no time, Sungmi began flicking through the charts trying to find his file. The name rang a bell, it definitely did – the Sehun part, at least.

“Ah!” Sungmi let out, feeling a little victorious at having remembered him. “The one who got the water last week.”

Sehun stared at her for a moment before glancing away and beginning to roll down his sleeve. He didn’t look angry, just tired. “If you’re done then-”

“No, no, I’m not done,” she interrupted, resuming her rummage through the files for his one as quickly as she could. She made a mental note to herself to ask Suho who was coming in prior to them arriving next time so she could have the files all ready to go.

She pulled out his file, flicking through until she found the report from the incident. “Numbness,” she muttered, scanning over the notes. “And, obviously, a lot of pain. It says here that nothing was suspected to be broken, though. Is there any numbness remaining?”

Sehun shook his head, eyes averted. 

Closing over his file, she noticed that he was from the same city that she was, and that he was even younger than she was.

“You’re only eighteen,” she said, glancing up at him to see that he was now looking at her again.

“And you’re only nineteen,” he retorted, looking a little irked that she would point out something like that.

Sungmi ignored this, instead sliding his file back into the pile in the appropriate place. “I’m from the same city as you.”

Flicking his eyes up to Sungmi’s, Sehun paused and his eyes softened somewhat. “I know.”

“How are we getting on over here?” came Suho’s voice, reappearing by Sungmi’s shoulder. When he saw the boy in front of Sungmi, he smiled. “How’s the shoulder doing?”

Sehun tucked his arm back inside his shirt hurriedly, doing the buttons back up again as he stood. “Wonderful,” he droned out, causing Sungmi to raise an eyebrow at his sudden change towards Suho.

“Do you need more painkillers?” Suho asked with that same smile, seeming unaffected by the boy’s insolence.

“No, I’m good,” he replied with a forced smile. He had just been perfectly fine with Sungmi, after a little chatter, and now here he was acting