Hakyeon cranes his neck to look out the window behind his back, the setting sun gilding the bare trees out there, birds chirping among the branches, and he might be imagining it, but he believes he can see a squirrel on the oak tree that stands closest to the building.

"When is it going to end?" he groans, sprawling out on his chair.

"Last patient for today," Hongbin murmurs from behind his desk, typing away on his keyboard before he stands up, walking to the door. "And stop whining; you've only been on duty for four hours today."

"There have been so many people," Hakyeon sighs. "You'd think winter sports are the most dangerous, but all these people keep hurting themselves when it's almost spring."

Hongbin stops with his fingers on the door handle, cocking a judgmental eyebrow at Hakyeon.

"Did you really become a sports physician because you thought you could slack off any time of the year that isn't winter?"

Hakyeon shrugs. "Don't people become teachers so they can be free in summer?"

"No, they don't," Hongbin says and opens the door before Hakyeon could retort.

The guy is tall and looks... quite like he was beaten up in an alleyway, with the way he limps inside the room, his face going ghostly white when he accidentally places his weight on his right foot.

"Hello," he heaves, flicking his sweaty black fringe out of his face.

Hakyeon can't help the quiet "ugh" that leaves his throat as Hongbin takes the patient's elbow, guiding him to the chair and helping him sit down. He sends Hakyeon a narrow-eyed look afterwards, most probably expressing his distaste for Hakyeon's unprofessionalism.

"So, um," Hakyeon starts, eyes darting down at the guy's socked right foot, "what happened here, Mr.—"

"Jung Taekwoon," the patient says and Hakyeon takes note of it. Jung Taekwoon's gaze flicks up at Hakyeon then. "You're new."

"Fresh out of the university," Hongbin comments and Hakyeon tries his best not to glare at him.

"Yes, well," Hakyeon clears his throat. "Can you put your foot up here, please?" He pats his own thigh. "And tell me what happened."

The guy does as he is said, hissing painfully when his heel makes contact with the top of Hakyeon's thigh, a soft "" filtering through his teeth, and he throws his head back, shutting his eyes tight.

"I’m sorry," he says, taking a deep breath to calm down.

"It happens," Hakyeon mutters under his breath.

"To you, especially," he hears Hongbin add and he can't be sure Taekwoon can't hear it but decides to let it go.

"So, what's all this?" Hakyeon asks, probably for the hundredth time as he pulls Taekwoon's black sock off as gently as he can.

"I took the wrong step when I kicked the ball," Taekwoon whispers and when Hakyeon glances up at him with his foot in his hands, he sees tears welling up in the guy's eyes. "Football," he explains and Hakyeon nods. "I lost my balance and it kind of just... twisted and I fell on it."

"It's not broken," Hakyeon says, turning his head left and right, trying to see if anything is off apart from the swelling and dark purple bruises on Taekwoon's ankle. "But you've got a nice sprain here."

"I figured that much," Taekwoon notes and Hakyeon raises his eyebrows, and if he presses at the swollen skin a little deliberately, no one can know but him. And Taekwoon, who cries out. "Can you just give me that really good painkiller Doctor Park used to prescribe?"

Hakyeon looks at Hongbin who sits in front of his screen with his brow furrowed.

"Fentanyl?" he asks, looking up at Hakyeon.

"Ah, yes, that one," Taekwoon sighs, swallowing hard like he can already feel the sweet numbness from the medicine.

"You'll be better off with some Advil," Hakyeon replies, patting Taekwoon's knee. "Hongbin, can you give me the bandage?"

Hongbin stands up from his chair and rummages through one of the cupboards, handing Hakyeon the entire box he finds, filled with bandages, band-aids and a pair of scissors, sitting back down on his chair and typing up the diagnosis in Taekwoon's record.

"There you go," Hakyeon says and almost smiles at his artwork.

"Is this going to hold, though?" Taekwoon asks, sceptical. "Doctor Park always made it tighter."

"Excuse me, but I know what I'm doing," Hakyeon quips, inhaling deeply and counting to three when he hears Hongbin's snort. "If I wrapped it around your ankle tighter, you would have to come back for an appointment to amputate your toes in two days."

"If you say so," Taekwoon shrugs.

"Yes, if I say so," Hakyeon sulks, his cheeks heating up at being doubted in his own consulting room that he studied his off for back at the university. And God, how long it took for that charlatan Park to finally be kicked out so Hakyeon could take his place. "Put some ice on it, elevate it, and come back in a week so I can take a look at it. But you must know how it works."

"Yeah, um," Taekwoon scratches his head as Hakyeon puts his sock back on his foot. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

The guy pulls his leg back and pushes himself up from the chair, leaving the room with Hongbin's help. When the door closes after him, Hongbin looks back at Hakyeon with a grin like a Cheshire cat on his face.

“Shut up,” Hakyeon grumbles.

“I didn’t say anything,” Hongbin shrugs as he pads back to his desk.

“Anyways, what is it that Park knew better than me?” Hakyeon sulks. “He was an and nearly alcoholic, I doubt he would’ve treated an injury like this better.”

“Maybe they drank together.”

“What?”

“I mean,” Hongbin peeks from behind the screen of his computer, “this guy has had a history with Park, judging from his record.”

Hakyeon furrows his brow and stands up, lurking behind Hongbin as he leans forward to read through the different diagnoses, Hongbin scrolling lower slowly.

“Broken elbow,” Hakyeon murmurs, “dislocated knee cap, sprained wrist, broken fingers, sprained ankles… how is this guy still alive?”

“And why doesn’t he see an orthopaedist?” Hongbin muses.

“A true enigma he is,” Hakyeon mumbles and walks back to his chair.