Chapter Text
North had been staring at the same whiteboard for twenty-seven minutes.
He knew this because he’d timed it. Because if he didn’t time it, he might scream.
“Blood,” he muttered, uncapping his marker again and underlining the word so hard the tip squeaked. “Without degradation.”
Tiger leaned back in his chair, boots hooked on the leg of the worktable, arms folded behind his head like he was watching a particularly entertaining documentary. “You know,” he said, “every time you say it out loud, it sounds worse.”
North shot him a look. “Do not.”
“You chose this hell yourself.”
“I did not choose hell,” North snapped. “I chose a socially necessary engineering solution to a global medical crisis.”
Tiger grinned. “You chose blood.”
North dragged a hand down his face. “There is a global shortage. People die waiting for transfusions. Whole systems collapse during disasters because blood expires too fast. I thought—” He gestured helplessly at the whiteboard. “—I thought, how hard can preservation be?”
Tiger’s grin widened. “Famous last words.”
North turned back to the board, adding another frantic box to the maze of arrows and formulas. “I can stabilize the temperature. I can control pressure. I can regulate microfluidic flow. I can slow oxidation and cellular breakdown. I can—” He stopped, marker hovering. “I cannot study blood.”
Tiger snorted.
“That is not funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious,” Tiger said. “You’re an engineering student trying to outthink biology. That’s like challenging the ocean to a fistfight.”
North groaned and slumped against the desk. “We’re not med students. We’re not hematologists. I don’t even know how blood behaves when it’s stressed long-term. Everything I find is locked behind medical journals.”
Tiger shrugged. “Again. You chose this.”
North narrowed his eyes. “You chose a capstone that is also useful and complicated.”
Tiger sat up a little, offended. “Excuse you. My project is extremely complicated.”
“It’s also suspiciously niche,” North said. “Adaptive energy redistribution systems for subterranean infrastructure?”
Tiger’s smile went feral. “See? You get it.”
North squinted. “Why does an engineering student need to design a self-correcting power grid that adapts to low-light, underground environments?”
Tiger waved a hand. “Urban planning, emergency shelters, old tunnels. Totally normal.”
North stared at him. “You are lying.”
Tiger laughed. “At least I’m not staring at blood samples wondering how to keep them from falling apart.”
North dropped into the chair across from him with a defeated sigh. “I don’t know what I’m missing. Everything works on paper. But paper doesn’t bleed.”
Tiger tilted his head. “You’re worried.”
“I am terrified,” North corrected. “This project gets approved next month. If I can’t prove feasibility beyond simulations, it’s dead.”
Tiger hummed thoughtfully, then said, “You know… I might be able to help.”
North’s head snapped up. “You?”
“Not me,” Tiger said quickly. “I barely passed bio.”
“Then—”
“I live with a nursing student.”
North froze. “You—what?”
Tiger grinned, clearly enjoying this. “Duennao. Nursing student, third year. Knows more about blood than both of us combined.”
North sat up straighter. “You live with a nursing student and you didn’t tell me?”
“You didn’t ask.”
“I have been suffering,” North said faintly.
Tiger shrugged. “He’s chill. Does hospital rotations. Talks about blood like it’s just another roommate.”
North blinked. “He—he actually works with blood?”
“Daily,” Tiger said. “Draws it. Stores it. Transfuses it. Knows exactly how fast it degrades, what stresses it, what keeps it viable longer.”
North felt something in his chest loosen. “You could… introduce me?”
Tiger studied him for a moment, then smirked. “You lit up.”
“I did not.”
“You absolutely did.”
North didn’t bother denying it. “Tiger, please. I can build the system. I just need someone who understands the living part of it.”
Tiger stood, stretching. “I’ll ask him. No promises.”
North exhaled, relief washing over him like he’d just surfaced for air. “I owe you.”
“Oh, you do,” Tiger said cheerfully. “And when this turns into a nightmare somehow—”
North groaned. “Don’t say that.”
“—I get to say I warned you.”
North capped his marker, glancing once more at the whiteboard. Blood. Equations. Arrows pointing nowhere.
For the first time in a week, it didn’t feel impossible.
“Just… set up the introduction,” he said. “Please.”
Tiger smiled, already reaching for his phone.
The café near the med-school building was always half-awake.
Too bright for people who hadn’t slept. Too quiet for people who needed noise to think. It smelled like burnt espresso and antiseptic hand soap for some reason.
North sat at the small round table, fingers wrapped too tightly around his cup. He hadn’t touched his drink. He was busy rehearsing explanations in his head, trying to figure out how to compress weeks of panic into something that didn’t sound unhinged.
Across from him, Tiger looked infuriatingly relaxed.
“You’re vibrating,” Tiger said.
“I am focused.”
“You’re going to scare him.”
“I am not—”
“Relax,” Tiger added. “Duennao’s nice.”
As if summoned by the comment, someone slid into the empty chair beside Tiger, setting a tray down.
Duennao looked exactly like someone who worked in a hospital and still managed to survive it — calm eyes, loose hoodie, a badge clipped to his bag even off-shift. He gave Tiger a familiar look before turning his attention to North.
“So,” Duennao said, smiling. “You’re the blood guy.”
North straightened immediately. “Yes—hi—I mean—engineering student, capstone project, blood preservation without degradation, I know it sounds impossible but I swear there’s a theoretical basis—”
Duennao lifted a hand, and North stopped mid-sentence like he’d hit an invisible wall. He tilted his head, amused. “I’m a nursing student. Of course I know about blood.”
North’s hope surged.
“But,” Duennao continued gently, “I don’t think I’m the one who should help you.”
North’s shoulders sagged. “Oh.”
Tiger winced in sympathy.
Duennao leaned back in his chair. “I work with blood practically. Drawing it, storing it, watching it fail. But what you’re describing? That’s deeper. More… structural.”
North swallowed. “Then who?”
He hated how desperate it came out, and he didn’t bother hiding it.
“Please,” he added. “I’ll talk to anyone. I’ll read anything. I just need to understand how blood behaves beyond equations.”
Duennao studied him for a moment, then nodded once, as if deciding something. “Let me call someone first,” he said. “See if he’s available.”
North blinked. “You… you know someone?”
“Yes,” Duennao said. “But fair warning, he’s not exactly friendly.”
North muttered under his breath, “Great. Another obstacle.”
Duennao laughed, warm and unbothered. “You’ll live.”
Tiger raised an eyebrow. “Who are we talking about?”
Duennao took out his phone. “Johan.”
North’s head snapped up. “Johan?”
Duennao paused, glancing at him. “Yeah.”
“Johan,” North repeated, like testing the shape of the name. “Johan who?”
Tiger leaned forward now. “Wait. Johan from med school?”
Duennao hummed in confirmation, already scrolling through his contacts. “That one.”
North’s eyes widened. “The Johan who studies hematology?”
Tiger stared at him. “You know him?”
“I know of him,” North said quickly. “Everyone does. He’s… kind of famous in our university.”
Tiger let out a low whistle. “Oh. That Johan.”
Duennao smiled faintly, clearly entertained by their reactions. “He might be able to help you better than I can. He doesn’t just study blood, he understands it.”
North felt his pulse spike. “You can introduce me?”
“If he agrees,” Duennao said. “Like I said, not the friendliest.”
Tiger squinted at him. “How do you know Johan?”
Duennao waved it off, already dialing. “Nursing students and med students run into each other all the time. Especially the ones who never leave the hospital.”
North leaned back in his chair, heart pounding as the phone rang. For the first time since choosing his capstone, it felt like the path forward might actually exist.
Duennao lifted the phone to his ear. “I’ll set it up,” he said calmly, “if he says yes.”
North didn’t realize he was holding his breath until his lungs started to burn. Duennao turned slightly away from the table, phone pressed to his ear.
North tried not to stare.
Tiger leaned over. “You look like you’re waiting for a verdict.”
“I am,” North whispered. “This could decide my entire capstone.”
Duennao listened quietly, nodding once, then twice. He hummed, soft and thoughtful.
There was a pause.
Then—
“…Sure,” Duennao said. “Yes. Now is fine.”
North froze. Tiger’s eyebrows shot up.
Duennao blinked once, clearly surprised himself. “You’re… agreeing?”
Another pause. Duennao smiled. “Okay. Library?”
He listened again, then nodded. “We’re on our way.”
The call ended. For half a second, none of them spoke. Then Duennao stood abruptly. “Let’s go.”
North shot to his feet. “Go where?”
“Before he changes his mind,” Duennao said, already slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Tiger barked out a laugh. “That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.”
The med building’s library was a different kind of quiet.
Not the sleepy hush of undergrads pretending to study, but the focused, surgical silence of people hunched over textbooks, muttering medical terms like a prayer. Lamps cast small pools of light. The air smelled faintly of paper, antiseptic, and old coffee.
Duennao didn’t hesitate. He cut through the rows, heading straight for a corner table tucked half-behind a tall shelf — out of sight unless you knew it was there.
“There,” he murmured.
North followed his gaze.
Two figures sat at the table.
One was unmistakably Johan — sharp posture, sleeves rolled to the elbow, anatomy notes spread before him. The other sat beside him, calm and composed, eyes on his notebook as if the world beyond it didn’t exist.
Duennao slid into the empty seat beside Johan like he belonged there.
Johan looked up, startled. “You actually came.”
“You answered,” Duennao said lightly.
He turned and gestured. “Sit.”
Tiger nudged North forward, and they took the two seats opposite them. Duennao smiled, already in his element. “Okay. Introductions.”
He tapped the table once. “Johan. Tonfah.”
Johan nodded once. Tonfah didn’t look up, but raised his pen slightly in acknowledgment.
“Tiger,” Duennao continued. “Engineering and chaos.”
Tiger grinned. “Sounds about right.”
“And this,” Duennao said, pointing a finger briefly on North’s shoulder, “is North.”
North swallowed. “Hi.”
Johan’s gaze flicked to Duennao. “Why did you choose me?”
Duennao’s grin widened. “Because everyone knows you specialize in hematology. And because you’re the perfect person for the job.”
Johan opened his mouth, then closed it. He turned slowly to Tonfah, silently pleading.
Tonfah, without lifting his eyes from his notes, said evenly, “You agreed earlier. That’s a you problem, not mine.”
Tiger bit back a laugh.
Johan sighed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. His eyes finally settled on North. “Alright. What is it you want to know?”
North didn’t need to be asked twice.
Words poured out of him.
He explained the blood shortage. The expiration problem. The equations. The simulations. The systems he could build, and the biological wall he kept hitting.
He talked about pressure stress, temperature control, cellular breakdown, clotting factors, oxidative damage.
He talked like someone who had been holding his breath for weeks.
Johan listened. So did Tonfah — quiet, sharp, occasionally glancing up when something interesting passed.
When North finally stopped, his throat was dry and his hands were shaking.
Johan exhaled slowly. “Meet me tomorrow.”
North blinked. “What?”
“I’ll explain it to you,” Johan said, already gathering his notes. “Properly.”
North’s face lit up like someone had turned the lights back on. “Really?”
Johan held out his phone. “Number.”
North fumbled for it, fingers clumsy as he typed his contact in.
“North,” Johan read aloud once it was saved.
“Yeah.”
Johan nodded. “Tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow,” North echoed, smiling so hard it almost hurt.
Tiger stood. “We’ve got class.”
Duennao waved them off. “Go.”
North hesitated for half a second, then bowed his head slightly. “Thank you. Both of you.”
Tonfah gave a small hum. Johan nodded.
They left, and the corner went quiet again. Duennao immediately elbowed Johan. “You know he’s exactly your type, right?”
Johan scoffed. “No, he’s not.”
Tonfah glanced up at him then, a teasing smirk tugging at his mouth. “You say that every time.”
Johan ignored him, staring down at his phone.
At the new contact.
“North huh,” Johan muttered, more to himself than anyone else.