Work Text:
The alarm that rings throughout the ship has you shooting up from your chair in alarm.
You’re up and out of the little infirmary in seconds, making sure the door lock is in place behind you, climbing the stairs to help the others out on the deck. You were still getting familiar with the fact that you had your own private little practice (honestly, you weren't too sure if that was okay, given you were technically only a med student). You had the inventory for the medicine down pat, though, familiarizing yourself with the medicine present. To your delight, the medical equipment you requested was present.
The large drops of rain hit you just as you reach the Main Deck. Everyone was already scrambling, moving in sync to tie down stuff that could fly away on the Main Deck and making sure everything (and everyone) was accounted for.
Your eyes land on the journalist struggling to secure rope around some cargo and move to help them. They nod at your presence, fighting with the ropes as rain battered down. You had just managed to tie one end of the cargo when another wave sends you on your ass.
Damn. The ocean was an unforgiving mistress.
Getting your sea legs and getting used to being at sea had taken you a while. And you weren’t the only one who had been temporarily incapacitated. Thank god for the seasickness medicine Senku made.
You see Ryusui step out from the comms room, giving everything a once-over before landing on you.
He helps you up, and you’re about to thank him when you hear the journalist yell in alarm.
You look up in time to find a knife headed straight for you and Ryusui.
“It’s fine, really.” The blond laughs at the panicked journalist. “Honestly, I should thank you, my dear. You’ve given me the privilege to be the first to try the facilities of our dear medic’s infirmary!”
You’re a lot less amused than Ryusui, but you have to agree with the man. Despite the fact that all of you are drenched, clothes still trailing drops of water, you push the captain towards the stairs.
“Doesn’t mean I don't feel horrible!” The journalist replies, but nods. “It slipped from my fingers because of the rain. We might have to adjust the grips on our equipment...”
“Yuzuriha’s somewhere on the masts, checking on the sails,” is the last thing Ryusui manages to say before you successfully push him towards the infirmary.
–
You close the door to the infirmary before turning to the blond who was busy looking around.
“Thanks for the save.” You say, already sanitizing your hands and pulling out the antiseptics and cotton balls from their storage. The knife had been knocked out of the journalist's hands, and it would have hit you had it not been for the captain's quick reflexes.
“Don’t mention it,” Ryusui says, taking a seat across from you, still holding a random cloth to his hand.
You take the cloth from him and pull his hand closer to examine the damage. You weren't sure how the journalist sharpened their knife, but whatever method they were using, they should keep at it because it was sharp- a deep cut on Ryusui’s palm made you whistle.
“That’ll need stitches.”
“I figured.” Ryusui sighs, but he doesn’t look too troubled, eyes still checking out the room.
You start the familiar rhythm of cleaning a wound with water and soap. If it stung, he didn’t say anything.
"Enlighten me, Mr. Ryusui."
"Ryusui is fine." The ship’s captain smiles. “I think we’ve talked often enough to have that at least, don’t you think?”
"Ryusui." You correct. "Why do you say you’re the greediest man alive?"
At that, Ryusui’s eyes come alive, burning with the passion of a thousand suns you’d seen a couple of times. He clenches his hand shut, seemingly forgetting that it was bleeding, making you frown and smack his arm.
"Don’t do that!" you bite, holding his fingers hostage as you examine the bleeding hand.
"I haven’t started on the stitches." You say, eyeing the deep cut.
Ryusui is surprisingly compliant, quiet as he watches you carefully stitch him up, suture by suture. Hands steady, but light.
"You’re good at that," he hums. "I was right to put you on board."
"I’m one of the only few people with medical knowledge," you reply, tying off another stitch with a surgeon’s knot and picking up the roll of bandages.
"Still, skill means something. A desire to get better." Ryusui smirks. "And greed is the basis of desire. To strive for something, we have to get it by our own hands, no?"
Admittedly, you weren’t expecting such a deep answer coming from the Nanami heir. The two of you were worlds apart, him at the top of luxury, while you had slaved away in the old world, juggling jobs and your internship just to make ends meet and avoid drowning in debt.
Still, the answer he had given was enough.
You were impressed, but you shake your head at him.
"You say you’re greedy, but it looks like it’s not enough for you to want to prioritize self-preservation." You lecture as you roll the bandage around his hand. "Don’t get sick. Don’t get hurt. I make it a rule to make sure no one visits this infirmary often. I don’t need you starting a pattern."
Your statement piques Ryusui’s curiosity. You almost regret your words when you see the spark of challenge in his eyes.
With a grin, he hops off the examination table and kisses your still-gloved hand before he rushes out.
"I make no promises, doc."
Little did you know, this little interaction would be the start of an unlikely friendship between you and the Perseus' captain.