Archive of Our Own

The sun was hitting the pavement of Gangnam with a vengeance, but inside the cramped, air-conditioned sanctuary of a milk tea shop near the Seoul National University, four seniors were currently mourning their freedom.

​Kim Taehyung was buried under a pile of anatomy reviewers, his oversized glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose for the tenth time that minute. At 23, he looked every bit the "nerdy" medical student—messy curls, ink stains on his fingers, and a sweater vest that looked like it belonged to a grandfather.

​"Guys, hindi ko na kaya," Taehyung groaned, thumping his forehead against the table. "Kapag tinanong pa ako ni Doc about the Circle of Willis, magpapakamatay na ako sa harap niya. I-dodonate ko na lang 'tong utak ko kasi hindi ko naman ginagamit nang maayos."

​Park Jimin, aged 23, was sitting across from him and didn't even look up from his phone. He was busy editing a TikTok of them from earlier. "Tae, relax. You’re literally the top of the clinical skills class. You just... you know, choke when people look at you."

​"I don't choke! I just... process things at a different speed pag may pressure," Taehyung countered, his slight stutter peeking through as he got defensive. Despite the clumsy exterior and the nervous tics, Taehyung had a weird brand of confidence. He knew he was good; he just didn't know how to act like it.

​"Process speed of a 2005 Internet Explorer," Jeon Jungkook chimed in, grinning as he sipped his drink. At 21, Jungkook was the youngest of the group but arguably the most athletic. "Pero solid, guys. Bukas na tayo mag-a-apply sa Seoul General. Final na ba? Doon talaga tayo sa department ni that guy?"

​Jung Hoseok, aged 24, the group’s resident sunshine and unofficial manager, nodded vigorously. "Clinical rotations doon is prestigious, Kook. Plus, the Chief Physician there is a legend. If we get in, our CVs are basically gold."

​Taehyung made a face. "I heard the Chief is a terror. Sabi ni kuya sa Twitter, he's rich, old-money, and strictly professional. Baka palayasin agad ako pag natabig ko 'yung mga mamahaling equipment doon."

The conversation continued well into the night, even after they had separated to go to their respective dorms.

​med school survivors 🩺

​jk 🐰: guys confirm ko lang uniform tomorrow is white right??

hobi 🐿: oo nga kook wag kang mag-suot ng itim baka mapagkamalan kang guard doon lol

​jimin 🐥: TAEHYUNGIE!!!! nahanap mo na ba yung stethoscope mo?? huling kita ko nasa loob ng ref niyo

​tae 🐯: GAGI HAHAHAAHA nahanap ko na!! nasa ilalim ng bed. guys kinakabahan ako 😔😔

tae 🐯: what if matapakan ko yung paa ng director?? or what if mabulol ako habang nag-i-introduce??

​hobi 🐿: just be yourself tae!! as long as hindi ka madapa sa harap ng panel, we gooddd :D

​jk 🐰: confident yan si taehyung hyung eh!!! 

jk 🐰: yung mukha lang niya hindi confident pero yung spirit niya pang-miss universe

​tae 🐯: true. GANDA KO KAYA. pero seryoso, i hate strict doctors. 

tae 🐯: yung mga akala mo kung sino porket mayaman. i heard the chief there is exactly like that.

​jimin 🐥: balita ko gwapo raw?

​tae 🐯: idc. kung masungit siya, hinding hindi kami magkakasundo. over my dead body. i hate him already and i haven't even met him.

​hobi 🐿: wag magsalita ng tapos tae... baka kainin mo yan bukas :p

​tae 🐯: NEVER. matulog na nga tayo. see u guys tomorrow 7am sharp!! ANG LATE MAGPAPA SAMGYUP AH

​Somewhere in District 1, Seoul General Hospital. . . 

​While the four boys were busy worrying about their outfits and their stutters, the atmosphere at Seoul General Hospital was significantly more refined.

​In the high-ceilinged office of the Chief Physician, the air smelled of expensive espresso and crisp sandalwood. Dr. Kim Seokjin was leaning back in his leather chair, reviewing a stack of applications. At 27, he was the epitome of a professional doctor—his lab coat was custom-tailored, his hair was perfectly styled, and his posture was impeccable.

​Beside him, Dr. Kim Namjoon, the head of Internal Medicine, was checking his watch.

​"The new batch of juniors are coming in tomorrow, Seokjin," Namjoon said, his voice deep and calm. "Are you going to be there for the orientation, or are you handing it off to Yoongi?"

​Seokjin didn't answer immediately. His eyes were fixed on one specific application. It was a bit crumpled at the edges, and the ID photo showed a boy with slightly crooked glasses and a boxy, nervous grin.

​"I'll be there," Seokjin said, his voice smooth and authoritative. "I want to see the new talent personally."

​Dr. Min Yoongi, who was lounging on the sofa in the corner with his eyes closed, let out a dry snort. "Talent? Or are you just waiting for that one kid you've been 'monitoring' for the last two years?"

​Seokjin’s expression didn't flicker, but he tucked the application into the top drawer of his desk—the one he kept locked. "I don't know what you're talking about, Yoongi. I simply care about the standards of this hospital."

​"Sure," Dr. Ken entered the room, holding two folders. He was Seokjin's long-time friend and the only one who dared to tease him as much as Yoongi. "That's why you personally requested for his school to be the primary partner for this year's residency program? Very professional, Chief."

​Seokjin stood up, smoothing out his coat. He was the eldest of the group, and he commanded respect even when his friends were being difficult.

​"He’s clumsy," Seokjin murmured, almost to himself, a small, uncharacteristic softenning appearing in his eyes before he quickly masked it. "He needs someone to make sure he doesn't trip and break his neck in a Level 1 Trauma center."

​"He hates 'rich and arrogant' doctors, Seokjin," Namjoon reminded him with a small smile. "And you... well, you look like you own the city."

​Seokjin adjusted his silver cufflinks. "Then I suppose I'll just have to work twice as hard to make him notice me. Or at least, make him stop hating me."

​"Good luck with that," Yoongi muttered, finally opening one eye. "I heard he’s quite the handful. Stubborn, loud, and incredibly clumsy."

​Seokjin looked out the window at the city lights. Tomorrow was the day. He had waited three years for Kim Taehyung to finally walk through those hospital doors. He could wait a little longer for the boy to actually look at him.

​"He's perfect," Seokjin whispered.

​The Next Morning, 6:45 AM

​"TAEHYUNG BILISAN MO! YUNG BUS PAALIS NA!"

​Taehyung was currently sprinting down the sidewalk, holding a piece of toast in his mouth and dragging his bag. He had tripped over his own rug that morning, causing a ten-minute delay.

​"Eto na!" Taehyung yelled back, his voice cracking. "Wait lang! 'Di nakatali sapatos ko!"

​He reached the bus stop just as the doors were closing, Jungkook grabbing him by the collar of his white uniform to pull him inside. Taehyung collapsed into the seat, panting, his glasses askew and his hair a bird's nest.

​"Look at you," Jimin sighed, trying to fix Taehyung's collar. "First day natin, mukha kang galing sa gyera."

​Taehyung took a deep breath, fixing his glasses and puffing out his chest. "Doesn't matter. I look good. Today is the day, guys. Seoul General won't know what hit them."

​"Sana hindi literal na 'hit' ha," Hobi joked. "Wag kang makaka-basag ng gamit doon, please lang."

​"Trust me," Taehyung said, a spark of genuine confidence in his eyes. "I’m gonna be the best junior they’ve ever seen. And that Chief guy? I’m gonna show him that we’re not just some kids he can look down on."

​Little did he know, the "Chief guy" was currently standing by the hospital entrance, checking his watch, waiting specifically for a clumsy boy with a boxy smile to trip his way into his life.

————————————————————————

The sterile, white hallways of Seoul General Hospital were Taehyung’s personal labyrinth. Everything looked the same—the polished floors, the scent of antiseptic, and the intimidatingly tall doors.

​Five minutes ago, Taehyung had bolted to the nearest restroom because his heart was drumming a rhythm against his ribs that felt dangerously close to tachycardia. He stood in front of the mirror, splashing cold water on his face, his hands trembling just a bit.

​"Okay, Taehyung. Kaya mo 'to. Confident ka, 'di ba? You're a genius. You're a boss," he whispered to his reflection, fixing his messy curls. He took a deep breath, adjusted his oversized glasses, and slapped his cheeks. "Huwag kang mabulol. Huwag kang madapa. Let's go!"

​He burst out of the bathroom, clutching his folder like a shield. He checked the room numbers. Room 302... 304... 306...

​"Ayun! Orientation Room A!"

​He saw a set of heavy double doors. He was already ten minutes late. His anxiety spiked again, turning his limbs into jelly. 

Without thinking, he grabbed the handles and pushed them open with all the force of a man trying to save a life.

​"S-SORRY PO! PASENSYA NA TALAGA! HINDI KO PO SINASADYANG MA-LATE, YUNG BUS PO KASI TAPOS YUNG SAPATOS KO NAKALIMUTAN KO ITALI, PASENSYA NA PO TALAGA!"

​Taehyung didn't just enter; he practically lunged into the room, bowing so deeply and so fast that his forehead nearly hit his knees. His folder slipped from his grip, papers sliding across the floor like a deck of cards.

​"Patawad po talaga, s-sir! I promise it won't h-happen again! I'm Kim Taehyung, your most hardworking junior and assistant! I will work very hard!"

​He stayed in that 90-degree bow, eyes squeezed shut, waiting for a scolding. 

But the room was... silent. 

Extremely silent.

​"Uh... Taehyung?"

​Taehyung froze. He knew that voice. He slowly looked up, peeking through his bangs.

​In front of him wasn't a room full of thirty nervous interns.

Instead, there were only about six people.

Jungkook was sitting in the front row, looking like he wanted to phase through the floor out of embarrassment. Hobi was next to him, covering his mouth with both hands, his shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter.

​And standing at the podium was a very tall, very handsome man with dimples and a look of pure confusion. Dr. Kim Namjoon.

​"Taehyung-ie... wrong room ka, bro," Jungkook hissed, gesturing wildly toward the door.

​Taehyung’s face turned a shade of red that shouldn't be humanly possible. He looked at the sign on the inside of the door.  

Internal Medicine – Specialized Residency Briefing

This wasn't the General Junior Orientation. This was the elite track.

​"Ah. Eh. H-Hehe..." Taehyung let out a weak, nervous giggle. "Wrong r-room po?"

​Dr. Namjoon tilted his head, a small, kind smile forming. "You must be Kim Taehyung. I’ve heard... interesting things about you. But you’re supposed to be in Room 402, one floor up. This is the Surgical and IM specialized group."

​"Ay, g-gago," Taehyung whispered under his breath in Tagalog, before realizing he said it out loud. He immediately gasped, covering his mouth. "I mean! S-sorry po, Doc! Napaka-gago ko—ay, h-hindi! I mean, napaka-shunga—NO! I’m s-sorry!"

​Hobi finally lost it, letting out a loud, windshield-wiper laugh. "Tae! Alis na bago ka pa ma-bad record kay Doc Namjoon!"

​"Actually," Namjoon intervened, his voice calm and professional, "Seokjin—I mean, the Chief—is waiting for the general orientation to start. If you're late for his session, he might be a bit more... firm than I am."

​The mention of the "Chief" made Taehyung’s soul leave his body. "The C-Chief? 'Yung matanda na m-masungit?"

​Jungkook’s eyes went wide. "Tae, shut up! Baka marinig ka!"

​"I-I have to go! Sorry po ulit, Doc Giant! I mean, Doc Namjoon!" Taehyung scrambled to pick up his papers, accidentally hitting his head against the edge of a chair in the process. Thud. "Aray! Okay lang ako! I'm fine! Sanay na 'to sa trauma!"

​He gathered his messy pile of papers, bowed one last time—nearly falling over his own feet—and scrambled out of the room like a cartoon character.

​Meanwhile, Outside the Hallway . . . 

​Taehyung was sprinting toward the elevator, his heart rate now at a record-breaking speed. "Lord, bakit naman ganun? Unang araw, hiyang-hiya na agad ako kay Doc Dimples. Nakita pa ako nina Jungkook and Hobi-hyung na mukhang tanga."

​He reached the elevator and pressed the button repeatedly. "Bilis, bilis, bilis..."

​Just as the elevator opened, a man was walking out. He was tall, wearing a long white coat that looked like it cost more than Taehyung’s entire tuition. He was looking down at a tablet, his sharp jawline and broad shoulders radiating an aura of "I am better than everyone in this building."

​Taehyung, in his frantic state, didn't see him. He charged forward just as the man stepped out.

​BAM.

​It was like hitting a brick wall made of expensive cologne. Taehyung’s papers, which he had just painstakingly gathered, flew into the air for a second time that morning. His glasses flew off his face, landing somewhere near the man’s polished black shoes.

​"ARAY!" Taehyung yelped, falling flat on his butt. "Ano ba?! Ang tigas naman ng—"

​He stopped. He looked up, squinting because his vision was a blur without his glasses. He could only see a tall, blurry figure looming over him.

​"Are you alright?"

​The voice was deep, velvety, and carried a tone of effortless authority. It wasn't the kind of voice you'd expect from a "terror" doctor; it was the kind of voice you'd hear in a luxury car commercial.

​"I'm fine! Pero bakit ka ba kasi humaharang?!" Taehyung snapped, his nervous confidence kicking in. He started crawling on the floor, searching for his glasses. "Naka-puti ka rin naman, doctor ka ba? Bakit hindi ka tumitingin sa dinadaanan mo?"

​The man didn't move. He watched the messy, curly-haired boy scramble on the floor. After a beat, the man reached down, picked up the glasses, and wiped them with a pristine silk handkerchief.

​"I believe these are yours," the man said.

​Taehyung grabbed them and shoved them onto his face. He blinked, the world coming into sharp focus.

​Standing before him was the most beautiful man he had ever seen. The man was young—maybe mid-to-late 20s—with skin like porcelain and eyes that seemed to be judging Taehyung’s entire existence while also looking... weirdly fond? 

Why does he look so... familiar? 

​Taehyung realized he was still sitting on the floor like a toddler. He scrambled to his feet, dusting off his pants.

​"S-Salamat. Pero late na ako sa orientation ng Chief niyo kaya dadaan na ako, excuse me po!" Taehyung tried to push past him.

​The man stepped to the side, blocking his path with a subtle grace. "The orientation? For the new juniors?"

​"Oo! Balita ko terror 'yung Chief doon, kaya kailangan ko magmadali bago niya'ko tanggalin dito! Unang araw pa lang oh!" Taehyung huffed, checking his watch.

"Sige na, bye na, Doc..." He glanced at the man’s chest, looking for a name tag, but the man wasn't wearing one. "B-bye, Doc Gwapo!"

​Taehyung sprinted past him, finally diving into the elevator.

————————————————————————

​The man—Kim Seokjin—stood in the hallway, watching the elevator doors close. A small, genuine smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

​"Terror?" Seokjin whispered to himself. "And 'Doc Gwapo'?"

​He adjusted his coat and turned back toward the orientation room. He had a speech to give, and apparently, a reputation to live up to.

​Inside Room 402, The General Orientation

​Taehyung burst into the correct room this time, sliding into a seat next to a very worried-looking Jimin.

​"Tae! Saan ka galing?! Muntik na magsimula!" Jimin whispered-yelled.

​"Jimin, wag ka maingay! Na-wrong room ako kina Jungkook, tapos nabunggo ko pa yung isang doctor sa labas! Ang sungit nung aura pero in fairness, ang gwapo," Taehyung whispered back, huffing. "Pero okay lang, at least wala pa 'yung terror na Chief. Sabi nung nabunggo ko, padating pa lang daw."

​"Hoy, ayusin mo yung buhok mo, mukha kang hinabol ng aso," Jimin said, frantically trying to pat down Taehyung’s curls.

​Suddenly, the room went dead silent. The heavy doors at the front opened.

​Taehyung sat up straight, trying to look professional. "Eto na... the old terror chief. Be ready, Taehyung. Don't let him intimidate you."

​A figure walked onto the stage. The juniors stood up in unison, a chorus of "Good morning, Chief!" echoing through the room.

​Taehyung’s jaw slowly dropped. His eyes widened behind his glasses. He felt his face heat up until he thought his ears might actually catch fire.

​The man standing at the podium, looking down at them with a cold, professional gaze, was the same man from the elevator.

​"Good morning, everyone," the man said, his voice echoing through the speakers. He scanned the crowd, his eyes landing directly on Taehyung, who was currently trying to hide behind Jimin’s smaller frame.

​The man's gaze lingered for a second too long, a tiny glint of mischief in his eyes.

​"I am Dr. Kim Seokjin, Chief of Medicine. Welcome to Seoul General. I hope you all found your way here... without getting lost in the wrong departments."

​Jimin nudged Taehyung hard in the ribs. "Tae... bakit siya nakatingin sa'yo?"

​Taehyung wanted to die. Right then. Right there.

​"Jimin," Taehyung whimpered, sliding lower into his chair. "I-I think... I just doomed myself. Once again."

A few hours later... 

The orientation felt like a ten-hour fever dream. 

Taehyung didn't hear a single word about hospital protocols, shift schedules, or patient privacy. All he could hear was the echo of his own voice calling the most powerful man in the building "Doc Gwapo" while sitting on the floor like a confused toddler.

​As soon as Seokjin dismissed the group, Taehyung was the first one out the door. He didn't walk; he power-walked, his white coat flapping behind him like a cape of shame.

​"Taehyung! Hoy, sandali!" Jimin scrambled after him, nearly tripping over a janitor's cart.

​They reached the cafeteria, where Jungkook and Hobi were already waiting at a corner table, clutching iced americanos and looking way too entertained.

​"G-guys," Taehyung gasped, slamming his tray onto the table and burying his face in his hands. "Paki-sabi kay Mama mahal ko siya. Hindi na ako uuwi. Dito na lang ako titira sa basurahan ng hospital."

​"Bakit? Anong nangyari?" Hobi asked, leaning in, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Balita namin pumasok ka raw sa orientation nina Namjoon hyung? Sikat ka na sa IM department, 'teh. Kinukwento ka na nila."

​Jungkook cackled, slapping the table. "Gago, yung mukha ni Taehyung kanina nung nakita si Doc Namjoon, para siyang nakakita ng multo na may dimples."

​"That's not even the worst part," Taehyung groaned, his voice muffled by his palms.

​Jimin took a seat, shaking his head. "Kinabahan ako para sa kanya, guys. Si Kim Seokjin? The Chief? Yung nabunggo niya sa elevator kanina? Siya pala 'yun."

​The table went silent for a microsecond before Hobi and Jungkook erupted into synchronized chaos.

​"WEH?!" Jungkook screamed, earning a few "shh" sounds from nearby nurses. "Nabunggo mo yung Chief?! Did you die?? Pinagbayad ka ba niya ng multa!?"

​"Hindi lang nabunggo," Taehyung looked up, his eyes watery with despair. "I... I called him 'Doc Gwapo' to his face. Tapos napagsabihan ko pa siya kasi humaharang siya sa elevator."

Silence. 

​Hobi choked on his coffee. "You did what? Taehyung, ang tapang mo. Pinoy pride, pero sa maling paraan."

​"Seryoso, Tae," Jungkook said, trying to wipe the tears of laughter from his eyes. "Chief of Medicine 'yun. Para siyang hari dito. Sabi nila ultra-rich daw family niyan. Old money levels. Very formal, very strict. Tapos tinawag mo lang na 'gwapo'?"

​"H-Hindi ko naman alam!" Taehyung defended himself, his stutter getting more pronounced as he got worked up. "Wala siyang suot na name tag! Tas mukhang bata pa siya para maging chief! Malay ko ba, akala ko resident lang din siya na mayaman."

​"Well, now he knows you," Jimin teased, poking Taehyung’s arm. "And he was looking at you the whole time during the speech, Tae. Like, the whole time."

​Taehyung stood up abruptly, his chair screeching against the floor. "That’s it. New mission. The Avoidance Protocol is now in effect."

​"Ano 'yun?" Hobi asked, still wiping tears from his eyes. 

​"I will stay exactly five meters away from him at all times. If I see a tall man with broad shoulders, I run. If I see a white coat that looks like it's made of silk, I hide. I will be a ghost in this hospital."

The three groaned in unison. The Taehyung effect is starting one again. 

​med school survivors 🩺

​tae 🐯: [image of a blurry photo of a broom closet]

​tae 🐯: dito muna ako mag-lunch. safe dito. 

tae 🐯: walang tao, especially yung mga may broad shoulders 😩

​jk 🐰: HAHAAHHAHAAHAHA gago labas dyan taehyungie amoy mop ka na siguro

​jimin 🐥: tae, we have rounds in 10 mins. sa department tayo ni dr. kim seokjin. you can't hide forever.

​tae 🐯: panoorin niyo ko. i will master the art of invisibility.

​hobi 🐿: guys, nakita ko si dr. kim seokjin kanina sa hallway. tinanong niya kung asan yung 'clumsy junior with the glasses' :0

​tae 🐯: MYGOD HINDI NGA?!???

​tae 🐯: GUYS TOTOO BA???

​hobi 🐿: joke lang HAHAHAAHHA xD

hobi 🐿: pero for sure hinahanap ka nun. yari ka.

​jk 🐰: RIP KIM TAEHYUNG (2003-2026). 

jk 🐰: cause of death: extreme kahihiyan moments. 

​Internal Medicine Ward, 1:00 PM

​Taehyung was currently hiding behind a very large potted monstera plant near the nurses' station. He was peeking through the leaves, scanning the hallway for any sign of Seokjin.

​"Taehyung-ah, para kang tanga," Jimin whispered, standing next to him with a clipboard. "Lahat ng nurse nakatingin sa'yo. Akala nila chine-check up-an mo yung halaman."

​"Sshhh! I see a b-broad back at the end of the hallway," Taehyung hissed, squinting. "Is that him? Is that the Giant?"

​"That's a vending machine, Taehyung."

​"Oh. Okay." Taehyung stepped out from behind the plant, adjusting his white coat. "Okay, clear na ata. Let’s go to the nurses' station for our assignments."

​They walked toward the desk, where a group of senior doctors were gathered, looking over charts. Taehyung kept his head down, his bangs covering half of his face. He was doing great. He was a shadow. He was a—

​"Dr. Kim Taehyung?"

​The voice was like a low cello note—rich, calm, and terrifyingly close.

​Taehyung froze. Every muscle in his body locked up. He slowly, painfully, turned his head.

​Standing right there, leaning casually against the desk with a gold fountain pen in his hand, was Seokjin. He wasn't even looking at Taehyung; he was looking at a chart, but the corner of his mouth was definitely twitching.

​"P-Po?" Taehyung squeaked.

Seokjin finally looked up. 

Up close, without the elevator panic, Taehyung realized the man was even more handsome. His eyes were sharp but had a strange, soft depth to them.

​"I noticed you were... inspecting the greenery earlier," Seokjin said, his tone perfectly professional, yet dripping with hidden amusement. "Is botany a side interest of yours, or were you just checking for pests?"

​The surrounding nurses giggled. Jimin turned away, coughing to hide his laughter.

​Taehyung felt the heat rise to his neck. "I... I was j-just... checking the oxygen levels po, Doc! Health starts with the e-environment!"

​"I see," Seokjin said, taking a step closer. Taehyung instinctively took a step back, hitting the desk. Seokjin didn't stop until he was well within Taehyung’s personal bubble. "And my name? Have you figured it out yet, or am I still 'Doc Gwapo'?"

​Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat. Or five.

"S-Sorry po about that! I didn't m-mean to be disrespectful! I was just... nervous."

​"Nervous?" Seokjin tilted his head. He reached out, and for a terrifying second, Taehyung thought he was going to touch his face. Instead, Seokjin’s hand moved to Taehyung’s shoulder, where his ID badge was flipped backward.

​Seokjin gently flipped it over so the name was visible. His fingers brushed against Taehyung's coat, and Taehyung felt a tiny electric jolt.

​"Don't be nervous, Taehyung," Seokjin murmured, his voice dropping an octave so only Taehyung could hear. "I don't bite. Unless you keep running away from me. It makes the rounds very difficult."

​Taehyung blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. Is he... is he teasing me? Lord kung gan'to man ako mamamatay, please isama ni'yo na siya. 

​Before Taehyung could respond, two other doctors approached. One was Dr. Yoongi, looking like he hadn't slept since the late 90s, and the other was Dr. Ken, who looked way too energetic for a hospital.

​"Seokjin, stop bullying the juniors," Yoongi said, his voice raspy. "Namjoon told us about this one. The one who broke into his office this morning?"

​"I d-didn't break in!" Taehyung protested, his confidence returning for a split second. "The door was open!"

​Ken laughed, clapping Seokjin on the back. "I like him! He’s got spirit. Most juniors just shake when Seokjin looks at them. This one talks back."

​Seokjin’s hand lingered on Taehyung’s shoulder for a second longer than necessary before he pulled away. "He’s assigned to my department for the next three months. I’ll be personally supervising his progress."

​Taehyung’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "P-Personally?! But Doc, you're the Chief! Don't you have... Chief things to do? Like, medicine and doctor-ey stuff?"

​Seokjin smiled—a real, dazzling smile that made Taehyung’s brain short-circuit. "I can multitask, Dr. Taehyung. Now, follow me. We have patients to see, and I’d prefer it if you didn't hide behind any more plants today."

​As Seokjin walked away, his stride confident and graceful, Taehyung stood there like a statue.

​Jimin leaned in. "Tae... I think your avoidance protocol just failed. Epic fail."

​Taehyung watched Seokjin’s broad shoulders disappear around the corner. "Jimin... bakit parang amoy p-peras siya?"

​"Peras?"

​"Pear. He smells like expensive p-pears and success," Taehyung whispered, dazed. Then, he shook his head violently. "HINDI! I hate him! He’s so s-smug! He’s totally doing this to t-torture me!"

​"Sure, Tae," Jimin said, dragging him forward. "Torture ka dyan. Bilisan mo, baka tanggalin ka na talaga nyan pag hindi ka sumunod."

​Taehyung stumbled forward, his oversized glasses slipping down his nose. "Wait lang! My s-shoe! Yung sintas ko—"

​Trip.

​Taehyung face-planted right into the back of a passing laundry cart.

​From the end of the hallway, Seokjin paused, hearing the familiar sound of a junior in distress. He didn't turn around, but he let out a soft, huffed laugh, a small smile playing on his lips.

​Three months, Seokjin thought. This is going to be the most interesting three months of my life.

————————————————————————

The "Avoidance Protocol" hadn't just failed; it had imploded. But Kim Taehyung was nothing if not persistent. If he couldn't be invisible, he would be a master of distraction.

​The next morning, Taehyung arrived at the hospital wearing a surgical mask that covered 80% of his face and a scrub cap pulled so low it nearly touched his eyelashes. He looked less like a doctor and more like a high-stakes robber—or a very suspicious mushroom.

​"Tae, seryoso ka ba dyan?" Jimin asked, staring at his friend as they stood by the locker area. "Mainit sa loob niyan. At saka, kilala ka pa rin ni Doc Seokjin kahit mag-suot ka pa ng mascot ng Jollibee."

​"Hindi niya ako mapapansin kung hindi ko siya tinitingnan," Taehyung muffled through the mask, his voice sounding like it was coming from underwater. "Eyes on the floor, Jimin. Eyes on the floor."

​The Grand Rounds, 9:00 AM

​Grand Rounds at Seoul General was a formal affair. Dr. Kim Seokjin led the pack, followed by his inner circle—Yoongi, Namjoon, and Ken—and a trail of nervous juniors.

​Seokjin was currently discussing a complex case of idiopathic pulmonary fibrosis. He looked regal, his voice steady and commanding as he explained the nuances of the patient’s CT scan. But his eyes... his eyes were wandering.

​He scanned the row of juniors until he found a pair of oversized glasses peeking out from behind a surgical mask and a cap with little bear ears on it.

​Seokjin’s eyebrow arched. Is he wearing bear ears in my department?

​"Dr. Taehyung," Seokjin called out smoothly.

​Taehyung, who was currently trying to merge with a white wall, jumped so hard his clipboard clattered to the floor. "P-Po?! I mean—Yes, sir! Doc! Chief!"

​"Since you are so... thoroughly protected," Seokjin gestured to the mask and cap, "perhaps you’d like to step forward and explain the primary symptoms we observed in this patient's initial presentation?"

​Taehyung stepped forward, his knees knocking. "A-Ah, the patient presented with dyspnea on exertion and a non-productive cough. Physical exam revealed v-velcro-like crackles upon auscultation."

​Seokjin nodded, impressed despite himself. The boy was a mess, but he was a brilliant mess. "Correct. And the prognosis?"

​Taehyung's confidence flickered for a second. He looked up, and for the first time that morning, his eyes met Seokjin’s. Seokjin wasn't looking at him with the coldness he usually reserved for underperforming staff. He was looking at him with a gaze that felt... warm. Like a soft spotlight.

​"The prognosis depends on the fibrotic progression, s-sir. Usually three to five years without intervention, but with antifibrotics, we can slow it down," Taehyung finished, his voice regaining its strength.

​"Excellent," Seokjin said. He took a step closer, reaching out to straighten Taehyung’s scrub cap—the one with the bear ears. "But next time, Dr. Taehyung, please ensure your headwear is... hospital-standard. Unless we've opened a pediatric wing in the last five minutes that I wasn't aware of."

​The senior doctors chuckled. Yoongi leaned over to Namjoon. "He’s so gone. He’s literally fixing the kid's hat."

​"Shut up, Yoongi," Seokjin whispered under his breath, before turning back to the group. "Next patient."

​med school survivors 🩺

​tae 🐯: GUYS PLS HELP

​tae 🐯: hinawakan niya yung bear ears ko!!!! 😭😭😭

​jk 🐰: HAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHA

jk 🐰: gago ka kasi bat ka nag bear ears?? medical professional yarn????

​hobi 🐿: baka akala niya cute ka tae YIEEEEEE

hobi 🐿: lowkey flirting na ba si chief??

​jimin 🐥: tae, nakita ko si doc jin kanina sa lounge. hawak niya yung listahan ng assignments natin. pinapalitan niya yung schedule mo. 

​tae 🐯: ANO??????! bakit?! tatanggalin na ba niya ako??

​jimin 🐥: hindi. nilipat ka niya sa night shift. kasabay NIYA.

​tae 🐯: AYOKO NA SA MUNDONG 'TO

tae 🐯: seryoso ba?? bakit ako?! marami namang ibang junior dyan ah!!! 

​jk 🐰: baka gusto ka lang niya bantayan... or baka gusto ka niya pag-tripan HAHAHHAHAHAH

​tae 🐯: i hate him so much. porket mayaman at chief siya akala niya pwede niya manipulahin schedule ko!! 😤

The Night Shift, 11:00 PM

​The hospital was quieter at night, the lights dimmed to a soft blue glow. Taehyung was at the nurses' station, desperately trying to stay awake by drinking the world’s worst instant coffee.

​"Bakit ba kasi kailangan mag-night shift," he muttered, his head bobbing. "Si Jimin naman dapat 'to eh."

​"Complaining on duty, Dr. Taehyung?"

​Taehyung nearly choked on his coffee. He turned around to see Seokjin standing there, but he wasn't in his formal lab coat anymore. He was wearing dark blue surgical scrubs that made his shoulders look even broader, and his hair was slightly messy. He looked less like a "Chief" and more like a heartthrob from a medical K-drama.

Taehyung mentally cursed. Lord, bakit lagi siyang nanggugulat? Balak niya ba akong ma-dedbol nang maaga? 

​"D-Doc! Chief! Sir! Hindi po! I was just... p-praising the coffee!" Taehyung lied, his heart doing a frantic dance.

​Seokjin walked behind the counter, standing right next to Taehyung. He pulled out a small, high-end thermos from his bag and poured a cup of steaming, rich-smelling coffee.

​"Here," Seokjin said, sliding the cup toward Taehyung. "Stop drinking that instant poison. It’ll stunt your growth, and you’re already at a disadvantage with your... coordination."

​Taehyung pouted, his lower lip sticking out. "Hindi naman kaunti ang growth ko ah! I'm 5'10!"

​"I was referring to your brain-to-foot coordination," Seokjin teased, a playful glint in his eyes. "You tripped over a flat rug three times today. I checked the CCTV."

​Taehyung’s face went scarlet. "Y-You checked the CCTV?! Bakit niyo ginagawa 'yun?! Ang creepy niyo po, Doc!"

​Seokjin leaned his elbow on the counter, looking directly at Taehyung. "I have to ensure the safety of my staff. And frankly, watching you try to navigate a hallway is the most entertainment I’ve had in years."

​"Happy po ako na joke lang ang existence ko para sa inyo," Taehyung huffed, turning his back to Seokjin. "Sikat na sikat na nga ako sa department niyo eh. Sabi ni Doc Yoongi, ako raw yung 'clumsy baby' ng IM."

​Seokjin’s expression shifted. The amusement faded into something a bit more intense. "He called you that?"

​"O-Opo. Sabi niya ang cute ko raw p-pag nadadapa."

​Seokjin’s grip on his thermos tightened. "Well, Dr. Min has a very... peculiar sense of humor. I’ll have a word with him. And you... you shouldn't listen to him."

​Taehyung turned back, confused by the sudden change in tone. "Bakit po? Totoo naman na dyahe ako."

​Seokjin took a step closer, cornering Taehyung against the nurses' station desk.

The smell of expensive pears and coffee was overwhelming. Taehyung’s breath hitched. He was trapped between the desk and Seokjin’s very expensive-looking chest.

​"Because," Seokjin whispered, his voice dropping to that dangerous, silky register, "I’m the only one allowed to tease you about being clumsy. Do you understand, Taehyungie?"

​Taehyung’s brain completely emptied. No medical knowledge, no Tagalog slang, no thoughts—just Seokjin. "P-Po?"

​"Stay close to me tonight," Seokjin said, his eyes searching Taehyung’s face. "I have a lot to teach you. And I don't want you getting... distracted by other doctors."

​Before Taehyung could respond, an emergency alarm blared from the ER.

​"Code Blue! Room 405! Code Blue!"

​The atmosphere shifted instantly. The teasing Seokjin vanished, replaced by the Chief. "Taehyung, grab the crash cart. Move!"

​Taehyung didn't stutter. He didn't trip. He grabbed the cart and sprinted alongside Seokjin. For a moment, the cat-and-mouse game was gone, replaced by the high-stakes reality of the hospital.

​As they burst into the room, Taehyung watched Seokjin take charge. He was brilliant. He was fast. He was... incredible.

​I hate him, Taehyung thought as he handed Seokjin the pads for the defibrillator. I really, really hate how much I’m starting to admire him.

​The Breakroom, 3 AM in the Morning

​After the patient was stabilized, the two of them sat in the small breakroom. They were both exhausted. Taehyung was slumped in a plastic chair, his glasses lopsided.

​Seokjin was sitting across from him, watching him with a quiet intensity.

​"You did well today, Taehyung," Seokjin said softly. "You didn't freeze."

​"I... I was too busy to freeze," Taehyung admitted, rubbing his tired eyes. "Thanks for the coffee, Doc. It helped."

​Seokjin smiled. It wasn't the "Chief" smile. It was just Seokjin. "Get some sleep for an hour. I’ll cover your rounds."

​"P-Pero Chief—"

​"That’s an order, Junior," Seokjin said, though there was no bite in it.

​As Taehyung drifted off to sleep with his head on the table, Seokjin quietly took off his own lab coat and draped it over the younger boy’s shoulders. He lingered for a moment, his hand hovering near Taehyung’s messy hair before he pulled back.

​"Soon, Taehyungie," Seokjin whispered to the empty room. "Soon you'll realize I'm not just the 'terror' you think I am."

​He turned to leave, but not before checking the hallway to make sure no one—especially not Yoongi—saw the Chief Physician acting like a lovestruck teenager.

————————————————————————

The morning sun began to bleed through the blinds of the breakroom, hitting Taehyung right in the eyes. He groaned, shifting his weight, and felt something soft and heavy slide off his shoulders.

​He blinked his eyes into focus, his glasses still lopsided on his face. He looked down at the floor. There, crumpled slightly but still radiating an aura of extreme wealth, was a white lab coat. But not just any coat. The embroidery on the lapel read: 

“ Chief Physician – Dr. Kim Seokjin ”

​Taehyung’s soul practically left his body.

​"O-Oh my god," he whispered, picking up the coat like it was a live bomb. It smelled exactly like Seokjin—pears, expensive detergent, and that faint hint of hospital-grade sterile soap. "B-Bakit nasa akin 'to?! Did I steal this in my sleep?! Nag-sleep walk nanaman ba ako!?"

​Suddenly, the door swung open. Jungkook and Jimin walked in, already dressed for their morning shift, holding breakfast sandwiches.

​"Hoy, Taetae! Gising ka na—" Jungkook stopped mid-sentence, his eyes dropping to the coat in Taehyung’s hands.

​Jimin’s jaw dropped so far it could have hit the floor. "Tae... bakit hawak mo 'yung coat ni Dr. Kim Seokjin? At bakit... bakit amoy Dr. Kim Seokjin ka?!"

​"Hindi! Mali iniisip ni'yo!" Taehyung scrambled to his feet, accidentally wrapping himself in the oversized coat instead of folding it. "I-I fell asleep, tapos pag-gising ko, andito na siya! Baka... baka nalimutan niya lang!"

​"Nalimutan?" Jungkook snorted, taking a huge bite of his sandwich. "Tae, si Doc Seokjin 'yung tipo ng tao na bawat hibla ng buhok nasa tamang pwesto. Hindi 'yun nakakalimot ng gamit. Nilagay niya 'yan sa'yo, teh!"

​"And look," Jimin pointed at Taehyung's neck. "Chikinini ba 'yan?!"

​"HINDI 'TO HICKEY, GAGO! STETHOSCOPE MARK 'TO!" Taehyung yelled, his face turning a violent shade of magenta. "Sira talaga kayo! Wala kaming ginawa! Nag-Code Blue lang kami kagabi!"

​med school survivors 🩺

​jk 🐰: [image of a grainy photo of Taehyung clutching Seokjin's coat to his chest like a security blanket]

​jk 🐰: spotted: the chief's property

​hobi 🐿: OY ANO YAN??? taehyungie?? did something happen in the breakroom?? :OO

​jimin 🐥: ayaw umamin guys!! pero amoy seokjin hyung na siya buong shift. amoy mayaman na rin si taehyung!! 

​tae 🐯: GUYS PLS TIGILAN NIYO NA'KO 😭😭😭

​tae 🐯: isasauli ko lang 'to. i swear. isasauli ko 'to tapos hinding hindi ko na siya kakausapin, i mean, sino ba siya para kausapin ko?

hobi 🐿: si chief physician talaga kausap mo, tae

​jk 🐰: pero suot mo na habang isinasauli mo tae. para official.

​tae 🐯: MANAHIMIK KA JUNGKOOK. 

tae 🐯: ISUSUMBONG TALAGA KITA KAY DOC DIMPLES. 

​Dr. Kim Seokjin's Private Study Room, 10 AM in the Morning

​Taehyung spent the next hour hovering outside the Chief’s office. He had folded the coat neatly—or as neatly as his trembling hands would allow—and placed it in a paper bag so no one would see him carrying it.

​Tok tok.

​"Come in," a muffled voice said.

​Taehyung peaked inside. Seokjin was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, glasses on, looking over some digital charts. He looked impeccable even after a night shift.

​"D-Doc... Chief... isasauli ko lang po sana 'to," Taehyung said, scurrying toward the desk and placing the bag down like he was delivering a ransom.

​Seokjin looked up, a small, knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Ah. My coat. Did you sleep well, Dr. Taehyung?"

​"Opo. I mean, hindi po! I mean... bakit niyo po binigay sa akin 'to? Pinag-t-tripan niyo ba ako, Doc?" Taehyung blurted out, his confidence-through-anxiety peaking. "Alam niyo ba na t-tinutukso ako nina Jimin?! Akala nila kung ano na nangyari!"

​Seokjin leaned back, crossing his arms. "And what do they think happened?"

​Taehyung’s brain stalled. "Akala nila... na... na close tayo! Which we are not! I hate rich doctors who think they can just lend their coats to juniors and make things complicated!"

​"You hate me?" Seokjin asked, his voice calm, but his eyes narrowed slightly. He stood up and began walking slowly around the desk.

​Taehyung backed away, but he hit the bookshelf. "Opo! You're s-smug, and you're always teasing me, and you're too g-gwapo—I mean, you're too... annoying!"

​Seokjin stopped inches away from him. He was so close that Taehyung could see the faint dark circles under his eyes from the long night.

​"If you hate me so much," Seokjin murmured, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Taehyung's ear, "then why were you hugging my coat when I left the room last night?"

​Taehyung’s heart stopped. "I... I w-wasn't!"

​"You were," Seokjin whispered. "You nuzzled into it. Like a puppy. It was... distracting."

​"Stop it po!" Taehyung pushed Seokjin’s chest lightly, but it was like pushing a marble statue. "G-Ginagawa niyo lang 'to kasi alam niyong nerbyoso ako. Nakakatawa ba ako panoorin?"

​Seokjin’s expression softened. The playful smirk vanished, replaced by something much more vulnerable. "Taehyung... do you really think I have nothing better to do with my time than to 'play' with a junior?"

​"Eh, bakit nga?!"

God, Seokjin thought. He doesn't even remember me. 

​"Because," Seokjin sighed, his hand moving from Taehyung's hair to the back of his neck, his thumb grazing the skin. "I've been watching you for three years. Since you were a sophomore. I waited for you to apply here."

Taehyung's brain short-circuited. THREE YEARS!? His mind screamed. Anong balak niya sa'kin!? 

​Taehyung’s eyes went wide. "P-Po? Three years? S-sikat ba ako sa school?"

​"No," Seokjin chuckled, a soft, genuine sound. "I saw you at a medical convention. You were arguing with a senior professor about a diagnosis. You were stuttering, your glasses were falling off, and you looked like you were about to cry... but you were right. And you didn't back down. I thought then... 'I want that boy in my department.'"

​Taehyung was speechless. The "terror" Chief hadn't been targeting him to be mean; he had been... scouting him?

​"So," Seokjin continued, his gaze intense. "I'm not teasing you because I find you funny, Taehyung. I'm teasing you because it's the only way I can get you to actually look at me without running away."

​Suddenly, the door burst open.

​"SEOKJIN! DID YOU ORDER THE—OH."

​Dr. Ken and Dr. Yoongi stood in the doorway. Ken was holding a box of donuts, and Yoongi had his hands in his pockets. They both stared at Seokjin, who still had his hand on the back of Taehyung’s neck.

​"A-Ah..." Taehyung squeaked, ducking under Seokjin’s arm and sprinting for the door. "S-SORRY PO! MAY ROUNDS PA AKO! B-BYE!"

​He bolted past Ken and Yoongi, nearly knocking the donuts out of Ken’s hand.

​"Smooth, Seokjin," Yoongi said, walking in and sitting on the sofa. "Cornering the junior in your office. Real professional."

​"Shut up, Yoongi," Seokjin sighed, rubbing his temples. But he couldn't hide the small smile on his face.

​"He's terrified of you, bro," Ken laughed, shoving a donut into his mouth. "You're too 'old money' for him. You need to be more... what do the kids call it? Trendy? Maybe you should stop wearing those 50,000-peso cufflinks."

​Seokjin looked at his cufflinks. "What's wrong with my cufflinks?"

​"Everything," Yoongi muttered. "If you want Taehyung, you have to stop being 'The Chief' and start being... well, someone he doesn't want to hide from in a broom closet."

FLASHBACK, THREE YEARS AGO

​Three Years Ago – The 14th Asian Medical Symposium (Manila, Philippines)

​Dr. Kim Seokjin, at 24 years old, was already exhausted with the world.

​He was the youngest appointed Head of Internal Medicine in the country, the sole heir to the Kim Medical Group, and the reluctant poster boy for "Elite Asian Bchelors." Wherever he went, the air shifted. People bowed too low, laughed too hard at his dry jokes, and constantly shoved their resumes—or their daughters’ phone numbers—into his pristine hands.

​"I am going to throw myself off the balcony," Seokjin muttered, adjusting his Rolex as he stood in the VIP lounge of the convention center.

​Next to him, Dr. Kim Namjoon, then a rising Chief Resident, casually took a sip of his black coffee. "Please don't. The paperwork for an 'accidental death' at a medical convention is a nightmare. Just smile and nod, Jin. It’s only three days."

​"Three days of people asking me about my father's golf handicap instead of my research on targeted immunotherapy," Seokjin sighed, his sharp, handsome features set into a permanent scowl. "I want to meet doctors, Namjoon. Real, passionate, sleep-deprived doctors. Not politicians in lab coats."

​"Well, you're looking in the wrong lounge. The real sleep-deprived ones are down in the lobby, fighting over the free catering," Namjoon chuckled. "Come on. Your keynote speech on 'The Future of Oncology' starts in twenty minutes. Let's head down."

​Seokjin straightened his perfectly tailored Tom Ford blazer. He put on his signature mask—the cold, untouchable, "sungit" billionaire persona. It was his armor. It kept the sycophants at bay.

​They walked toward the VIP elevator. The doors chimed open, revealing an empty, spacious carriage. Seokjin stepped in first, standing right in the center, leaning slightly against the front panel to look at his phone. He looked intimidating. He looked expensive.

​The doors began to slide shut.

​"WAIT! TEKA LANG PO! PAKIPIGIL!"

​A loud, frantic voice echoed from the lobby.

​Seokjin barely had time to look up before a blur of oversized clothing, flying papers, and chaotic energy hurled itself through the narrow gap of the closing doors.

​THUD.

​The boy collided with the metal wall, a thick medical textbook slipping from his grasp and landing right on Seokjin’s polished Italian leather shoes.

​"Ay, kalabaw!" the boy yelped, immediately dropping to his knees to scramble for his things.

​Seokjin stared down. The boy was wearing a knitted sweater that was three sizes too big, a pair of thick, wire-rimmed glasses that were currently sitting crooked on the bridge of his nose, and a hospital ID badge that designated him as a first-year medical student. His curly hair was an absolute bird's nest.

​"F-First floor po. S-Sorry, nagmamadali, late na ako sa keynote speech nung... nung arroganteng Kim Seokjin," the boy muttered to himself, mostly under his breath, but loud enough in the quiet elevator.

​Namjoon let out a sound that was half-cough, half-choke, quickly turning his face toward the mirror to hide his laughter.

​Seokjin’s perfectly sculpted eyebrow twitched. He stood taller, radiating his most intense, freezing aura. He expected the student to look up, recognize him, and immediately start profusely apologizing and bowing.

​Instead, the boy finally stood up, clutching his textbook to his chest, and looked Seokjin dead in the eye.

​Taehyung blinked behind his thick lenses. He looked at Seokjin's expensive suit, his intimidating posture, and the way he was leaning against the front panel.

​"Excuse me, kuyang pogi," Taehyung said, his voice laced with a slight, nervous stutter, but completely devoid of awe. "H-Humaharang ka po sa elevator buttons. P-Pwede po bang p-patabi? Pipindotin ko lang 'yung floor."

​Seokjin froze.

​Kuya.

Pogi. 

​Humaharang sa elevator.

​For the first time in his entire life, someone had looked at his Tom Ford suit, his Rolex, and his intimidating glare, and just saw a very annoying man blocking the buttons.

​"I... excuse me?" Seokjin managed to say, his rich baritone faltering for a split second.

​"Y-Yung buttons po," Taehyung repeated, using his textbook to gently nudge Seokjin’s arm out of the way. "N-Nakaharang po 'yung braso niyo. T-Thank you."

​Taehyung pressed the button for the 4th floor, oblivious to the fact that the "arrogant Kim Seokjin" was currently having an internal existential crisis next to him.

​Namjoon was practically vibrating with silent laughter in the corner.

​Seokjin cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure. "You think Dr. Kim Seokjin is arrogant?" he asked, his voice cold and smooth.

​Taehyung looked at him, adjusting his glasses. "H-Hindi naman po sa ganun. P-Pero sabi kasi sa mga articles, masyado daw siyang m-malamig. Parang robot. S-Sayang, ang galing pa naman niya sa oncology. B-Baka kailangan lang niya ng yakap, o kaya... m-masarap na kape."

​Seokjin stared at him. The boy wasn't mocking him. He was genuinely giving a psychological assessment of the Chief Physician, right to his face, with zero malice.

​"A-Anyway," Taehyung stammered, stepping back as the doors dinged open at the 4th floor. "Salamat, kuya. Wag ka na humarang sa susunod ha? Baka maipit ka."

​With a clumsy, awkward bow, Taehyung dashed out of the elevator, dropping a highlighter in the process. He didn't even stop to pick it up. He just kept running toward the auditorium.

​The elevator doors closed again.

​Namjoon burst into hysterical laughter, clutching his stomach. "Oh my god. 'Kuya, humaharang ka.' I am going to put that on your tombstone, Jin."

​Seokjin didn't say a word. He looked down at the bright yellow highlighter on the floor. He slowly bent down, picking it up. It felt warm.

​His heart was doing something very strange. It felt like it was beating a little too fast, a strange, electric jolt running through his chest.

It wasn't anger. 

It was pure, unadulterated fascination.

​"Who was that?" Seokjin murmured.

​"A kid with a death wish, apparently," Namjoon wiped a tear from his eye. "Come on, robot. You have a speech to give."

​————————————————————————

​The grand auditorium was packed with over a thousand doctors, specialists, and students. Seokjin stood at the podium, delivering his presentation on cellular regeneration with flawless precision. He was commanding, brilliant, and completely untouchable.

​But his eyes kept scanning the crowd.

​He found him in the fifth row.

​The boy—Taehyung—was sitting on the very edge of his seat, practically vibrating with excitement. His thick glasses were sliding down his nose, and he was taking notes so fast it looked like his wrist was going to snap. Every time Seokjin mentioned a complex medical term, Taehyung’s eyes would widen in awe, and he would aggressively highlight his notebook (presumably using a spare highlighter).

​He's not looking at my watch, Seokjin thought, pausing for a fraction of a second during his speech. He's not looking at my family name. He's listening to my words.

​When the Q&A portion began, the usual suspects stood up—older doctors trying to flex their knowledge by asking overly complicated, irrelevant questions. Seokjin shot them down with polite, icy efficiency.

​Then, a hand shot up from the fifth row.

​"Yes. The student in the oversized sweater," Seokjin said into the mic, unable to stop the tiniest smirk from forming on his lips.

​Taehyung scrambled to his feet. He was handed a microphone. The entire auditorium turned to look at him.

​"H-Hello po," Taehyung’s voice echoed nervously, a stark contrast to the booming confidence of the older doctors. He fumbled with his notebook, nearly dropping the mic. "S-Sir—I mean, Dr. Kim. U-Uhm..."

​Several older doctors in the front row scoffed softly at the stutter. Seokjin’s eyes darkened instantly, shooting a lethal glare at the front row that immediately silenced them.

​Seokjin turned back to Taehyung, his voice softening, dropping his usual intimidating timber. "Take your time. What is your question?"

​Taehyung took a deep breath, looking down at his messy notes. "Y-Yung in-explain niyo po about targeted cell destruction... P-Paano kung yung enzyme na ginamit is mutated? Hindi po ba mag-cause yun ng hyper-regeneration imbis na destruction? Parang... parang cancer na binigyan mo ng steroids?"

​The room went dead silent.

​Namjoon, who was sitting in the VIP section, slowly lowered his pen, staring at the student in shock.

​It was a brilliant question. It was the exact theoretical flaw that Seokjin’s research team had spent the last six months trying to solve in the lab. And this first-year student, who looked like a stiff breeze could knock him over, had just deduced it from a forty-minute PowerPoint presentation.

​Seokjin stared at Taehyung. The boy was shrinking into his sweater, terrified by the silence.

​He's a genius, Seokjin realized. He's a clumsy, chaotic, stuttering genius.

​"That," Seokjin finally spoke, his voice vibrating through the speakers, "is an exceptional question. You've identified the primary variable in phase three of our clinical trials."

​Taehyung’s face erupted into a massive, boxy smile. The fear vanished, replaced by a radiant, blinding pride. He looked like he had just won the lottery.

​Seokjin felt the breath get knocked out of his lungs.

​It was, unequivocally, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

​"What is your name, student?" Seokjin asked.

​"T-Taehyung po. Kim Taehyung."

​"Well, Kim Taehyung," Seokjin said, holding his gaze. "I expect you to read the follow-up paper when it publishes next year. I have a feeling you'll understand it better than half the people in this room."

​Taehyung blushed a deep crimson, bowing repeatedly before sitting down, hiding his face behind his textbook.

END OF FLASHBACK

​Cafeteria, 12 PM in the Afternoon

​Taehyung was sitting with his friends, his face still bright red. He was completely oblivious to the memory which shattered the doctor he was currently talking about. He was aggressively stabbing a piece of broccoli with his fork.

​"Guys, s-seryoso," Taehyung whispered. "Sabi niya t-three years na niya akong sinusundan. Stalker ba siya?!"

​"Hindi stalker tawag dun, Tae," Hobi said, leaning in. "Tawag dun, destiny."

​"O baka naman investment," Jungkook added. "Like, nakita niya potential mo as a doctor."

​"Pero the way he looks at me," Taehyung shivered. "Parang... parang gusto niya akong kainin. Hindi 'yung as a doctor! 'Yung... p-personal!"

​Jimin grinned. "Ay, iba na 'yan. If the Chief of Medicine is into you, Tae, you're set for life. Imagine the research grants! The private office! The free food!"

​"Hindi ko kailangan ng grants!" Taehyung huffed, his boxy grin finally making an appearance. "I want to be known for my merit! Not because I'm the Chief's... whatever!"

​"Whatever what?" a voice asked from behind them.

​The four boys jumped. Standing there was Dr. Namjoon, smiling kindly.

​"Doc Namjoon!" Hobi greeted. "Kain po tayo!"

​"No thanks, I'm just looking for Taehyung," Namjoon said. "Seokjin asked me to give this to you. He said you forgot it in his office."

​Namjoon handed Taehyung a small, brown paper bag.

​Taehyung opened it. Inside was a high-quality, personalized stethoscope with 'Dr. Kim Taehyung' engraved on the side in elegant gold lettering. And a small note.

​“ Your old one was in the fridge, right? Use this instead. It’s harder to lose. – S.J ” 

​Taehyung’s heart did a somersault. "Paano niya nalaman 'yung tungkol sa ref ko?!"

​"He has his ways," Namjoon winked. "See you at the afternoon meeting, Dr. Taehyung."

​As Namjoon walked away, the three friends hovered over the stethoscope.

​"GAGO," Jungkook whispered. "Engraved gold?! Tae, jowa ka na niyan! Wag ka nang pabebe!"

​Taehyung clutched the stethoscope to his chest, his face heating up again. "I... I still hate him. Kahit gold pa 'to."

​"Sus," Jimin teased. "Hate daw pero namumula 'yung tenga. Halika na nga, baka hanapin ka pa ni 'S.J'."

​Taehyung followed them, his thumb tracing the gold engraving of his name. He still didn't like how smug Seokjin was, and he definitely didn't like how the man could make him stutter with just one look... but as he put the new stethoscope around his neck, he couldn't help but feel that the "Avoidance Protocol" was officially, 100% dead.

He couldn't help but also feel a strange sense of longing familiarity. 

Have I met him before? 

Taehyung thought, but quickly brushed it off as he realized he was trailing behind his friends. Eh, gutom lang 'to. 

————————————————————————

Taehyung was currently having a "moment."

​He was standing in the corridor of the OB-GYN wing, ostensibly to deliver some lab results, but in reality, he was staring—quite shamelessly—at Dr. Kim Jisoo.

​Jisoo was a senior resident, the same age as Seokjin, and arguably one of the most beautiful women in the hospital. She was calm, brilliant, and had a laugh that sounded like bells. To Taehyung, she was the ultimate "Doctor Goal."

​"Ang ganda niya talaga," Taehyung whispered to himself, leaning against a gurney. "Sana ganyan din ako kaayos. Hindi 'yung mukhang laging hinahabol ng multo."

​"Taehyung! Laway mo, tumutulo na," Jimin joked, bumping his shoulder as he passed by with a tray of meds.

​"G-Gago, hindi ah!" Taehyung wiped his mouth anyway, flushing. "I just... I admire her work ethic! And her hair! Look at that volume, Jimin. Parang sa shampoo commercial."

​"Sus, crush mo lang si Dr. Jisoo eh," Jimin teased. "Sabagay, everyone has a crush on her. Even the patients."

​Taehyung sighed dreamily. "She's so cool. Kanina, nakita ko siya mag-suture. Ang bilis! Ang dali! Tapos pag-harap niya sa akin, nginitian niya ako! Sabi niya, 'Good job, Junior.' "

​"O, eh ano na plano mo sa 'J' mo?"

​Taehyung’s face soured. "S-Si Chief? Wala! Cold and smug kaya 'yun. Unlike Dr. Jisoo na napaka-warm. Dr. Jisoo is like a... a warm blanket. Si Chief is like an ice cube. Na mahal."

​Consultation Room, 2:00 PM in the Afternoon

​Taehyung was lucky enough to be assigned to assist Dr. Jisoo for a minor consultation. He was acting like a total fanboy—handing her the charts before she even asked, holding the door open, and stuttering even more than usual because he wanted to impress her.

​"Thank you, Taehyung-ah," Jisoo said, giving him a bright, heart-shaped smile. "You're very efficient for a junior. Most of them are too scared to even talk to the seniors."

​"H-hindi naman po! I just... I really admire you, Doc! I want to be like you pag naging senior na ako!" Taehyung chirped, his boxy grin finally in full force.

​Jisoo laughed, patting his arm. "You're cute. No wonder Seokjin talks about you so much."

​Taehyung froze. 

He talks about me to other people? 

"P-Po? Sinong Seokjin?"

​"The Chief, silly," Jisoo said, leaning against the desk. "We grew up together. Our families are close. He's usually so stoic, but lately, all he talks about is this 'clumsy junior' who keeps breaking things in his department. He seems... interested."

​Taehyung pouted. "Interesado lang 'yun m-mang-trip, Doc. Don't believe him. Masama po u-ugali nun."

​Just as the words left his mouth, the door to the consultation room swung open with enough force to rattle the hinges.

​Dr. Kim Seokjin was standing there. 

He wasn't smiling. In fact, he looked like he had just swallowed a lemon. His gaze went straight to Jisoo’s hand, which was still resting on Taehyung’s arm.

​"Jisoo," Seokjin said, his voice clipped and cold. "I believe you have a surgery in ten minutes. Why are you still here?"

​Jisoo blinked, surprised by the tone. "Seokjin? My surgery isn't until three. We were just finishing up. Why are you here? Don't you have a board meeting?"

​"The meeting was moved," Seokjin said, stepping into the room. He walked right between Jisoo and Taehyung, effectively breaking their physical contact. He turned to Taehyung, his eyes boring into the younger boy’s. "And you, Dr. Taehyung. I believe your assignment was with my department today. Why are you moonlighting in OB-GYN?"

​"Sabi po ni Doc Namjoon pwede ako mag-assist dito m-muna!" Taehyung stammered, feeling the familiar "Chief-induced" panic rising. "And Dr. Jisoo needed help with the records!"

​"I have plenty of clerks for records," Seokjin snapped. He turned back to Jisoo, his jaw tight. "Jisoo, stop distracting my juniors. Especially this one. He's already prone to accidents; he doesn't need a 'warm blanket' to make him even more unfocused."

​Jisoo’s eyes widened, then a slow, mischievous smirk spread across her face. "Wait... are you jealous, Seokjin-ah?"

​"Don't be ridiculous," Seokjin said too quickly. "I'm concerned about the workflow."

​"Workflow?" Jisoo giggled, crossing her arms. "Taehyung was just telling me how much he admires me. He said I'm much warmer than you. Right, Taehyung?"

​Taehyung wanted to evaporate. He looked at Seokjin, who was now looking at him with an expression that could only be described as "pure, unadulterated saltiness."

​"A-Ah... eh... s-sinabi ko lang po na m-mabait si Doc Jisoo!" Taehyung squeaked.

​"I see," Seokjin said, his voice dropping to a dangerously low level. "Mabait. Warm. Composed. Is there anything else you’d like to add to her review, Dr. Taehyung? Perhaps a poem?"

​"S-Sir—"

​"Go back to the IM ward. Now," Seokjin ordered. "I have a complicated patient that needs a 'composed' junior to monitor their vitals. Since you're so inspired by Dr. Jisoo, I expect your notes to be flawless."

​Taehyung didn't need to be told twice. He grabbed his clipboard and bolted out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet in the doorway.

​med school survivors 🩺

​tae 🐯: GUYS

​tae 🐯: LAGOT AKO KAY CHIEF

​jk 🐰: bakit nanaman?? ano sinira mo???

​tae 🐯: wala akong sinira o ano!! pero nakita niya kami ni dr. jisoo na nag-uusap 🥹

jimin 🐥: hala diba crush mo 'yun??

​hobi 🐿: o tapos?? ano nangyari? 

​tae 🐯: ANG SUNGIT NIYA!! as in, parang gusto niya ako i-deport pabalik ng manila!! 😭😭😭

​jimin 🐥: GAGO SELOS YAN HAHAHHAHAAHA

​tae 🐯: hindi ah!! sabi niya distraction daw ako sa workflow. tsaka friends sila ni dr. jisoo since birth!

​jk 🐰: mas lalong delikado pag childhood friends tae. baka akala niya inaagaw mo si jisoo... o baka akala niya inaagaw ka ni jisoo sa kanya 👀

​tae 🐯: ewan ko sa inyo!! feeling ko talaga galit siya kasi sinabi ko kay doc jisoo na masungit siya.

​hobi 🐿: goodluck tae. balita ko pinapa-double rounds ka niya mamaya?? :v

​tae 🐯: AYOKO NA TALAGA DITO.

​6:00 PM in the Evening

​Taehyung was alone at the station, his eyes blurring from looking at so many numbers. He had been doing double rounds for four hours. His feet ached, and he was starving.

​"Still not finished?"

​Taehyung jumped. Seokjin was standing there, holding two containers of high-end sushi and a bottle of mineral water. He looked less angry than earlier, but still... stiff.

​"P-Patapos na po, Chief," Taehyung said, not looking up. "I'm being productive. I'm not distracted."

​Seokjin sighed, sitting on the stool next to him. He opened one of the sushi containers and pushed it toward Taehyung. "Eat. You can't chart properly if your glucose is low."

​Taehyung looked at the sushi. It looked expensive. Probably cost more than his monthly allowance. "Bakit po kayo nag-bibigay ng pagkain? Para po ba manahimik ako?"

​Seokjin paused, a piece of salmon halfway to his mouth. He looked at Taehyung, his gaze softening just a fraction. "I'm giving you food because you haven't eaten since 7 AM. And because... I might have been a bit too harsh earlier."

​Taehyung blinked. Did the Chief just... apologize?

​"D-Doc... selos ba talaga kayo kay Dr. Jisoo?" Taehyung blurted out, his lack of filter being a direct result of exhaustion.

​Seokjin choked slightly on his water. He coughed, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "I told you, it’s about professionalism."

​"Pero sabi nina Jungkook—"

​"Jungkook needs to focus on his sutures and stay out of my business," Seokjin interrupted, but there was no real heat in it. He looked at Taehyung, his eyes lingering on the boy’s messy hair. "Jisoo is a great doctor. But she's... loud. And she likes to tease people. I didn't want her to give you the wrong idea."

​"A-Ano pong wrong idea?"

​Seokjin leaned in, his shoulder brushing against Taehyung’s. The tension in the air was suddenly thick enough to cut with a scalpel.

Hala, ang lapit niya...

​"The idea that she's the only one in this hospital who thinks you're 'cute', Taehyung," Seokjin whispered.

​Taehyung’s heart hammered against his ribs. Dug-dug. Dug-dug. "A-Ah... eh... s-sabi ko naman po mabait lang siya..."

​"And am I not mabait?" Seokjin asked, a ghost of a smile appearing.

​"Kadalasan po... h-hindi," Taehyung answered honestly.

​Seokjin let out a short, dry laugh. "Fair enough. I suppose I have a lot of work to do to catch up to Dr. Jisoo's 'warmth'."

​He reached out, his hand hesitating before he gently tapped the new stethoscope around Taehyung’s neck. "Does it work well? The new one?"

​"O-Opo. Ang linaw po ng sound," Taehyung said, looking down. "Salamat po ulit dito, Doc."

​"Good." Seokjin stood up, his formal mask sliding back into place. "Finish your food. Then go home. I’ve cancelled your night shift. You look like you're about to fall over."

​"Talaga po?!" Taehyung’s eyes lit up. "S-Salamat, Chief! Ang bait niyo po pala talaga!"

​Seokjin walked away, but he stopped at the door, looking back over his shoulder. "Taehyung?"

​"Po?"

​"Don't tell Jisoo I gave you sushi. She'll never let me hear the end of it."

​As Seokjin disappeared around the corner, Taehyung sat there, a piece of California roll in his mouth, his mind spinning. He looked at the sushi, then at the empty hallway.

​"Selos nga siya," Taehyung whispered, a tiny, shy smile forming on his face. "Gago, totoo nga 'yung sabi nina Hobi-hyung." 

He took another bite of the sushi. It tasted like success. And maybe, just a little bit, like something else he wasn't ready to name yet.

————————————————————————

The sushi from the night before had done something dangerous to Taehyung’s brain. It had made him feel... comfortable. And as anyone who knew Kim Taehyung could attest, a comfortable Taehyung was a bold Taehyung.

​The next morning, Taehyung didn't feel the need to hide behind any monstera plants. He felt light. He felt capable. He had even spent five extra minutes in front of the mirror making sure his curls were "just the right amount of messy" and his new stethoscope was prominently displayed.

​"Look at him," Jungkook whispered to Jimin as they stood in the lobby. "Walking like he owns the place. Kahapon lang gusto niyan magpakamatay sa basurahan."

​"The power of high-end sushi, Kook. Never underestimate it," Jimin replied, grinning.

​Taehyung approached them, a spring in his step. "Morning, guys! Ready for the day? I have to drop off these patient summaries at the Chief’s office before morning rounds."

​"Ay, wow. 'Chief's office' na agad? Wala nang stuttering?" Hobi teased, leaning against a pillar.

​"Hindi naman ako kinakabahan sa kanya anymore," Taehyung claimed, adjusting his glasses with a flick of his wrist. "He's just a guy. A rich, slightly salty guy who happens to be my boss. Easy."

​"Sige, sabi mo eh," Jimin said. "See you at the ward, 'Boss' Taehyung."

​Executive Wing, 8:00 AM in the Morning

​The hallway leading to Seokjin’s office was quiet. Most of the senior staff were already in a briefing room. Taehyung reached the heavy oak door and was about to knock when he noticed it was slightly ajar.

​Maybe he's on a call? Taehyung thought. He didn't want to be rude, but he was on a tight schedule. He decided to just peek in and see if the desk was empty so he could leave the files and bolt.

​He nudged the door open an inch.

​The room was bathed in soft morning light. Dr. Kim Seokjin was sitting at his desk, but he wasn't looking at charts. He wasn't on his phone. He had a small, printed photograph in his hand—the kind you get from a professional event booth.

​Taehyung squinted. Is that... me?

​It was. It was a photo from the National Medical Convention three years ago. In the photo, a younger, even more disheveled Taehyung was eating a strawberry tart, his eyes crinkling into crescents of joy, his mouth shaped into a messy, boxy grin. 

​Taehyung’s heart did a strange little flip. Bakit nasa kanya 'yan? Was he actually... 

​But then, the world seemed to slow down.

​Seokjin sighed, a look of pure, unadulterated fondness crossing his face—the kind of look he never showed in public. 

He traced the outline of Taehyung’s face in the photo with his thumb. Then, as if moved by an impulse he couldn't control, Seokjin lifted the photo and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the image of Taehyung’s cheek.

​Taehyung’s brain didn't just short-circuit; it exploded.

​His hand, which was resting on the door handle, slipped.

​"AY G-GAGO!"

​The door swung wide open, hitting the interior wall with a loud THUD.

​Seokjin jumped nearly a foot out of his chair, the photo flying out of his hand and landing face-up on the rug. His face went from "affectionate" to "mortified" in exactly 0.5 seconds.

​Taehyung stood in the doorway, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. The "bold" Taehyung from five minutes ago had vanished, replaced by a very confused, very red-faced junior.

​"T-Taehyung!" Seokjin gasped, his voice cracking—a sound Taehyung had never heard before. The Chief scrambled to cover the photo with his foot, but he was too slow.

​Taehyung looked at the photo on the floor. Then he looked at Seokjin. Then back at the photo.

​"Doc... Chief... did you just... k-kiss my f-face?" Taehyung asked. The stutter was back. It was back with a vengeance.

​Seokjin cleared his throat, adjusting his tie with shaking hands. He regained his "Chief" posture, but his ears were the color of a ripe cherry. "I... I was just... cleaning it. T-There was a speck of dust."

​"By k-kissing it po?!" Taehyung took a step into the room, his shock turning into that chaotic humor he used as a defense mechanism. "Doc, if you wanted to clean it, pwede naman po tissue! O kaya alcohol! Pero bakit may pout?"

​"Taehyung, enough," Seokjin said, trying to maintain his dignity while his foot was still firmly planted on the evidence. "You were supposed to knock. This is a private office."

​"P-Pasensya na po! Pero... bakit may picture ako dyan? That was three years ago! I looked like a thumb in that photo!" Taehyung walked closer, his curiosity winning over his fear. "Wait... is that the medical convention?! You r-really were following me?!"

​Seokjin sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as if praying for the floor to open up and swallow him. He finally moved his foot and picked up the photo, placing it face-down on his desk.

​"I wasn't following you," Seokjin muttered, his voice low. "I told you. I saw potential. I kept the photo as a... a memento of a brilliant mind."

​"A brilliant mind na kailangan i-kiss?" Taehyung teased, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes now that he realized he had the upper hand. "Chief, aminin niyo na po. Crushing niyo po ako 'no?"

​Seokjin looked up, and for a second, the "Chief" was back. He stood up, towering over Taehyung, and walked around the desk until he was inches away. The sheer "old money" energy he radiated was enough to make Taehyung stop laughing.

​"And what if I am?" Seokjin asked, his voice steady now, though his ears remained red. "What if I've spent three years making sure I had a position ready for you? What if I personally reviewed every single one of your papers just to see how your mind works?"

​Taehyung’s breath hitched. "P-Po?"

​"You think you're the only one who can be bold, Taehyung?" Seokjin took another step, forcing Taehyung back against the edge of the desk. "I'm a man who knows what he wants. And I've wanted you in this hospital—and in my life—for a very long time."

​Taehyung’s heart was drumming so hard he was sure Seokjin could hear it. "P-Pero... Doc... Chief... clumsy po ako. I m-make mistakes. I called you 'Doc Gwapo' by accident. Hindi po ako old money fashionable katulad niyo."

​Seokjin reached out, his hand cupping Taehyung’s jaw. His touch was warm, firm, and surprisingly gentle. "I don't need 'old money'. I have enough for both of us. And your mistakes? They're the only thing in this hospital that makes me smile."

​Taehyung looked into Seokjin’s eyes and saw it—the truth. It wasn't a prank. It wasn't a "terror" doctor picking on a junior. It was a very lonely, very successful man who had fallen for a boy who argued with professors.

​Taehyung gulped. "So... b-bali... boyfriend niyo na po ako?"

​Seokjin let out a genuine, beautiful laugh. "Not yet, Taehyung. We haven't even gone on a date. And I believe you have morning rounds in two minutes."

​"AY GAGO YUNG ROUNDS!" Taehyung yelled, suddenly remembering his duty. He scrambled to grab the files he had dropped on the floor. "S-Sige po! Chief! Doc! B-Bye!"

​He ran for the door, but stopped, looking back at Seokjin who was still standing there, looking remarkably fond.

​"Doc?"

​"Yes?"

​"Wag niyo na po kiss 'yung photo," Taehyung said, a huge, boxy grin breaking across his face. "Andun naman po ako sa ward. P-Pwede naman po sa personal."

​Before Seokjin could react, Taehyung bolted out of the room, his laughter echoing down the hallway.

​Seokjin stood alone in his office, his hand touching his own lips where they had just brushed the photo. He shook his head, a helpless smile on his face.

​"He's going to be the death of me," Seokjin whispered.

​med school survivors 🩺

​tae 🐯: GUYS

​tae 🐯: MAY SASABIHIN AKO PERO WAG KAYO MAGUGULAT

​jk 🐰: ano nanaman?? nahulog ka sa hagdan??

​jimin 🐥: tae, nasa ward na kami

jimin 🐥: asan ka na?

​tae 🐯: i think... i think the Chief is REALLY into me.

No one typed for a solid five seconds... 

jk 🐰: oh. 

jimin 🐥: oh. 

hobi 🐿: oh. 

​hobi 🐿: we've known that since day 1, tae. anong bago? 

​tae 🐯: HINDI!! as in... i caught him k-kissing my photo.

No one typed again, this time for a full ten seconds... 

​jk 🐰: GAGO?? 💀

​jimin 🐥: WEH?! HAHAHAHAAHA 

jimin 🐥: seryoso ba??

​tae 🐯: OO!! nakita ko!! as in, with pouty lips!!

​hobi 🐿: omg taehyung, you're literally living a wattpad story ;-;

jk 🐰: SO ANO? JOWA NA BA???

​tae 🐯: hindi pa!! sabi niya date muna.

​jimin 🐥: date?? kelan??

​tae 🐯: ewan!! baka mamaya?? baka bukas?? basta... wag niyo muna ako t-tuksuhin ha!! kinakabahan pa ako!!

​jk 🐰: sus, 'wag daw tuksuhin' pero all caps yung tawa sa kabilang chat 🙄

jk 🐰: see u later 'Future Mrs. Chief'.

​tae 🐯: GAGO KA GGUK!! 😤

————————————————————————

The professionalism in the Internal Medicine ward had officially reached a record low.

​Usually, when Dr. Kim Seokjin walked into a room, the air pressure seemed to drop. Nurses stood straighter, juniors stopped breathing, and even the dust particles seemed to settle in an orderly fashion. 

But today, the Chief Physician was currently hiding behind a clipboard because Kim Taehyung was checking a patient’s blood pressure five feet away.

​Taehyung, for his part, was not much better. He was focusing so hard on the sphygmomanometer that he looked like he was trying to solve a complex calculus equation with his mind.

​"Dr. Taehyung," Seokjin said. His voice, usually a deep, commanding baritone, came out a little... squeaky. He cleared his throat aggressively. "I mean—Ahem. Taehyung. The results for Bed 12?"

​Taehyung jumped, nearly dropping the blood pressure cuff. He didn't look up. He couldn't. Not after the "Photo Incident."

​"A-Ah, yes, Chief. Normal naman po. Everything is... normal. Very normal. Like, normal na normal," Taehyung rambled, his eyes fixed on the patient's toes.

​"Good. That’s... good. Normal is... the goal," Seokjin replied.

​They stood there in silence for a solid ten seconds.

​Dr. Yoongi, who was standing at the nurses' station nearby, watched them with an expression of pure physical pain. He turned to Dr. Ken. "Can you please fire both of them? Or at least put them in separate buildings? It’s like watching two middle-schoolers at their first dance."

Ken sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I can't. They’re assigned to the specialized oncology review today. They have to work together for the next four hours."

​"In one room?" Yoongi asked.

​"In one room."

​"Lord, help us all," Yoongi muttered.

​Dr. Kim Seokjin's Private Study Room, 10:30 AM

​The study room was small, quiet, and felt approximately 200 degrees Celsius despite the air conditioning. Taehyung and Seokjin were seated on opposite ends of a long mahogany table, surrounded by stacks of medical journals.

​Taehyung was pretending to read a paper on immunotherapy, but he was actually just staring at the same paragraph for twenty minutes. Every time he heard Seokjin shift in his chair or click his expensive fountain pen, Taehyung’s heart did a little parkour move.

​Click.

​Taehyung’s head snapped up.

​Click-click. 

​Seokjin was staring at the wall, his face a light shade of pink. When he realized Taehyung was looking at him, he immediately looked down at his tablet.

​"T-Taehyung," Seokjin started, his voice soft. "About what you saw... in my office. I hope it doesn't make things... weird."

​"H-Hindi naman po!" Taehyung lied, his voice reaching a pitch only dogs could hear. "Sobrang okay lang po. Normal lang naman mag-keep ng photo ng junior, 'di ba? Tsaka normal lang din na... i-kiss 'yun. Very professional po."

​Seokjin cringed, closing his eyes. "Please stop saying 'professional'. We both know it wasn't."

​Taehyung finally looked at him. Seeing the "Great Kim Seokjin"—the man who owned half the luxury cars in the parking lot and could perform a thoracentesis in his sleep—looking so shy was... actually kind of cute.

​"Doc, bakit ba kayo nahihiya?" Taehyung asked, his natural confidence peeking through. "Gusto niyo naman ako, 'di ba? Sabi niyo kanina."

​Seokjin looked up, his ears turning that familiar bright red. "I do. But I'm also your superior. I’m supposed to be... impressive. Not caught acting like a fanboy."

​"Impressive naman po kayo ah," Taehyung said, leaning his chin on his hand. He wasn't stuttering now; he was curious. "But I like this version better. Mas mukha kayong tao."

​Seokjin let out a small, breathless laugh. "Mukhang tao? What did you think I was before? A robot?"

​"Akala ko po vampire na mayaman," Taehyung admitted, a boxy grin spreading across his face. "Yung mga masungit na bilyonaryo sa K-Drama."

​"I am a billionaire," Seokjin corrected, a bit of his old smugness returning. "But I’m not a vampire. Vampires don't get heart palpitations when a certain junior walks into the room."

​Taehyung felt his own face heat up. 

Score: Seokjin - 1, Taehyung - 0.

​"G-Gago," Taehyung whispered in Tagalog.

​"What does 'gago' mean?" Seokjin asked, tilting his head. "You say it a lot. Is it a medical term?"

​Taehyung giggled, covering his mouth. "H-Hindi po! It’s... it’s like 'stupid' or 'idiot', but in a friendly way. Or a shocked way."

​"So, I am a 'gago'?" Seokjin asked, trying out the word. His posh, refined accent made it sound like a five-star French dish.

​"Hala, wag niyo pong sabihin 'yun sa labas!" Taehyung laughed. "Yari ako kay Doc Namjoon pag n-narinig niyang tinuturuan ko kayo niyan."

​med school survivors 🩺

​tae 🐯: MGA BHIE

​tae 🐯: tinuturuan ko si chief mag-tagalog

​jk 🐰: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA weh??? ano tinuro mo??

​tae 🐯: sinabi ko sa kanya yung 'gago'

​hobi 🐿: KIM TAEHYUNG!!! baka i-report ka niyan sa HR!! D:

​jimin 🐥: ano reaction niya??

​tae 🐯: inuulit-ulit niya!! 'Gah-go. Is this right, Taehyung-ah?' 😭😭😭 ang cute niya guys please tulong

​jk 🐰: yari ka tae. pag narinig yan ni doc yoongi, alam na kung sino salarin.

​jimin 🐥: update naman dyan sa mag asawa. may kiss na ba??

​tae 🐯: GAGO WALA!! nahihiya pa kami sa isa't isa. para kaming ewan dito sa study room. 

tae 🐯: tsaka hindi ko siya asawa 'no!!!

hobi 🐿: sus, balitaan mo nalang kami kung kelan yung kasal ah. ;>

A few hours later... 

It was now 12:30 PM. Seokjin had ordered a massive spread of food to be delivered to the study room—truffle pasta, wagyu steak, and some fancy dessert that looked like a piece of modern art.

​"Doc, kailangan ba talaga ganito karami?" Taehyung asked, staring at the steak. "Dalawa lang tayo."

​"I wasn't sure what you liked," Seokjin said, neatly unfolding his cloth napkin. "And I wanted to make up for the... awkwardness this morning."

​Taehyung took a bite of the pasta. "Masarap po. Pero Doc... pwede bang 'wag niyo akong tratuhing 'investment'?"

​Seokjin paused, his fork hovering in mid-air. "What do you mean?"

​"Sabi niyo kasi three years niyo na akong sinusubaybayan. Parang project," Taehyung said, looking down at his plate. "Gusto ko po... gusto ko na gusto niyo ako kasi... ako 'to. Si Taehyung na dyahe at maingay. Hindi dahil sa potential ko as a doctor."

​Seokjin set his fork down. He reached across the table, and for the first time, he didn't hesitate. He took Taehyung’s hand in his. His skin was smooth, and he was wearing a very expensive watch, but his grip was warm and grounding.

​"Taehyung," Seokjin said, his voice dropping to that serious, heart-melting tone. "The 'potential' I saw three years ago was just the beginning. I stayed interested because of you. Because you're the only person who has ever looked at me and didn't see 'The Chief' or 'The Billionaire Heir'. You just saw a man who was 'humaharang sa elevator'."

​Taehyung sniffled, a small, shy smile forming. "Sungit niyo kasi nun."

​"I know," Seokjin whispered. "I was trying to be impressive. It backfired."

​He squeezed Taehyung’s hand. "I don't want a project, Taehyung. I want... I want to know why you keep your stethoscope in the fridge. I want to know why you wear bear ears to rounds. I want to know everything."

​Taehyung felt a tear prick at his eye. He quickly wiped it away with his free hand. "Doc... ang d-daya niyo. Ang galing niyo m-mag-speech."

​"I've had three years to practice," Seokjin teased.

​Suddenly, the intercom buzzed.

"Chief, Dr. Min is asking for the oncology review. He says if you're not done, he’s coming in there to 'physically drag' the records out."

​Seokjin rolled his eyes, but he didn't let go of Taehyung’s hand. "Tell Dr. Min to wait five more minutes. I’m in the middle of a very important... consultation."

​Taehyung giggled, his face bright red. "Sige na po, baka sipain na ni Doc Yoongi 'yung pinto."

​"Let him," Seokjin said, finally letting go, but not before brushing his thumb over Taehyung’s knuckles. "Taehyung?"

​"Po?"

​"Are we still... awkward?"

​Taehyung looked at Seokjin—the man who kissed his photo, the man who ordered wagyu for a study break, the man who was currently looking at him with so much hope it was almost painful.

​"Kaunti pa po," Taehyung admitted, standing up and gathering the journals. "Pero... sige. Pwede na po tayong hindi mag-tago sa isa't isa."

​As they walked out of the room, Seokjin stepped close to him, his shoulder brushing Taehyung’s.

​"Gago," Seokjin whispered, trying out the word again.

​Taehyung burst into laughter. "Mali po 'yung context, Doc! Pero sige na nga, gago na kung gago."

​From across the hallway, Hobi and Jungkook watched them emerge—the Chief and the Junior, walking side by side, both of them blushing like they had just shared their first juice box.

​"Ayun na," Jungkook whispered. "Official na. Maghanda na tayo sa kasal, guys. Barong Tagalog with diamond buttons ang attire ah."

The next day . . . 

The atmosphere in the Internal Medicine department was unusually light that Friday. Taehyung was humming to himself as he finished his morning rounds. For the first time in weeks, his hands weren't shaking, and his tongue didn't trip over his teeth. He felt… bold. He felt like the "Kim Taehyung" who actually had his life together.

​"Hoy, Taehyung! Bat parang may heart-heart 'yung mata mo today?" Jungkook asked, leaning against the nurses' station with a chart in hand.

​Taehyung grinned, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. "Wala lang. Masama bang maging masaya? Feeling ko lang kasi, everything is falling into place."

​"Falling into place or falling for the Chief?" Jimin chimed in, sliding a tray of vials across the counter. "Balita ko pinadalhan ka nanaman ng kape kaninang 6 AM."

​"It was just a latte, Jimin. Growth coordination, remember?" Taehyung teased, though his cheeks flushed a faint pink.

​After finishing his shift, Taehyung decided to do something he hadn't done before. He stopped by the small flower shop in the hospital lobby. He remembered Seokjin mentioning once—in between a discussion on renal failure and the merits of Italian leather—that he liked the color pink. Not just any pink, but the soft, dusty hue of tulips.

​"Isa nga pong bouquet nito," Taehyung pointed to the fresh tulips. "The pink ones. Thank you po."

​He held the bouquet close to his chest, the petals soft against his lab coat. He was going to Seokjin’s office. No "Avoidance Protocol," no stuttering, just a straightforward thank you for the stethoscope and the wagyu.

​————————————————————————

​On his way up to the Executive Wing, Taehyung ran into Hobi and Dr. Yoongi.

​"O, Taehyung? Flowers? Para kay Jisoo?" Hobi asked, raising an eyebrow.

​"Hindi ah! For the Chief," Taehyung said confidently. "Magpapasalamat lang ako."

​Yoongi looked at the flowers, then at Taehyung, then back at the flowers. He let out a dry, weary sigh. "Good luck, kid. He’s currently in a meeting with the new batch of international interns. One of them is... persistent."

​Taehyung frowned. "Persistent? Anong ibig niyo pong sabihin?"

​"Let's just say she's very interested in 'extra-curricular' learning," Yoongi muttered, already walking away. "Bilisan mo na dyan, bago pa mag-short circuit 'yung pasensya ni Seokjin."

​Taehyung tilted his head, confused. He continued toward the office, his heart doing that familiar thump-thump, but this time it wasn't out of fear. It was excitement.

​He reached the heavy doors. He didn't knock softly this time. He was ready to be the "impressive" junior Seokjin liked. He took a deep breath, adjusted the flowers, and pushed the door open.

​"C-chief, I brought you these—"

​The words died in his throat.

​The office was quiet, but the air was thick with something uncomfortable.

​Seokjin was standing by his window, but he wasn't alone. A tall, strikingly beautiful new intern—wearing a lab coat that was definitely a size too small and heels that were not hospital-appropriate—was practically draped over him.

​Her arms were wrapped around Seokjin’s waist from behind, her head resting on his broad shoulder. Seokjin looked frozen, his hands hovering in the air as if he were afraid to touch her—not out of affection, but out of sheer, visible discomfort.

​"But Dr. Kim," the intern purred, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. "I just felt so overwhelmed with the rotation. I needed someone strong to guide me. You're so... capable."

​Seokjin’s jaw was tight. "Dr. Lee, please release me. This is highly unprofessional and—"

​He stopped when he heard the door creak.

​Taehyung stood there, the pink tulips looking vibrant against his white coat. His expression wasn't one of shock or sadness—it was a slow, simmering heat. The stutter was nowhere to be found. Instead, his grip on the bouquet tightened until the stems groaned.

A few minutes earlier...

​The Executive Office of the Chief of Medicine was designed to be a fortress. The walls were soundproofed, the mahogany desk was massive enough to serve as a barricade, and the temperature was kept at a crisp, intimidating 18 degrees Celsius.

​For Dr. Kim Seokjin, this room was his sanctuary. It was where he made life-or-death decisions, managed a billion-peso hospital budget, and, more recently, where he sat staring at his phone, waiting for Kim Taehyung to reply to his text about the morning latte.

​Presently, however, Seokjin was rubbing his temples, a Bluetooth earpiece blinking on his ear.

​"Dr. Lim, with all due respect, I don't care if the supplier is your brother-in-law," Seokjin said, his voice a smooth, freezing baritone. He was staring out the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the Seoul skyline. "The new MRI machines are supposed to be state-of-the-art, not refurbished junk from a defunct clinic in Singapore. Cancel the contract. We are re-bidding."

​"Chief Kim, be reasonable," the consultant pleaded through the earpiece. "The board has already—"

​"The board answers to me, Dr. Lim. End of discussion. Have the revised paperwork on my desk by 3:00 PM."

​Seokjin tapped his earpiece, ending the call with a heavy sigh. He checked his gold Rolex. 11:15 AM. Taehyung’s morning rounds should be ending soon. Seokjin wondered if he could invent a completely fabricated "emergency consultation" just to drag the junior back into his office. Maybe he could order sushi again.

​Before he could finalize his plot to abuse his administrative powers for romance, the heavy oak doors of his office clicked open.

​Seokjin didn't turn around immediately, assuming it was his secretary, Miss Reyes, bringing in the afternoon charts. "Just leave them on the desk, Miss Reyes. And hold my calls for the next twenty minutes, please."

​"I don't think I can do that, Dr. Kim."

​Seokjin stiffened. The voice was breathy, artificially pitched higher than a natural speaking tone, and definitely not Miss Reyes.

​He turned slowly. Standing just inside the doorway, having bypassed his secretary's desk entirely, was Dr. Lee.

​She was one of the new international interns. Seokjin had only reviewed her file briefly—she came from a wealthy pharmaceutical family, had average grades, and possessed an alarming reputation for transferring hospitals every six months. Looking at her now, Seokjin felt a massive headache coming on.

​Her lab coat was tailored to be uncomfortably tight, she was wearing stilettos that violated at least three occupational hazard codes, and the scent of her overpowering, suffocatingly sweet floral perfume was already infiltrating the crisp air of his office.

​"Dr. Lee," Seokjin said, his tone dropping to absolute zero. He didn't move from his spot by the window, maintaining maximum distance. "This is a restricted floor. How did you get past my secretary?"

​Dr. Lee offered a sickly sweet smile, slowly closing the door behind her with a soft click. "Miss Reyes went to the restroom. And I just couldn't wait. I really needed to speak with you, Chief."

​"If you have an issue with your rotation, you schedule an appointment," Seokjin stated firmly, walking over to his desk but not sitting down. He wanted to make it clear she wasn't invited to stay. "Or you speak with your attending, Dr. Min."

​Dr. Lee took a few steps closer, her heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. She crossed her arms, pushing her chest out slightly, her lower lip caught between her teeth in what she probably thought was an endearing pout. To Seokjin, she looked like she was having a mild allergic reaction.

​"Dr. Min is... so harsh, Seokjin," she purred, intentionally dropping his title.

​Seokjin’s jaw locked. "It is Dr. Kim, or Chief. Do not cross that line again."

​She didn't flinch. Instead, she took another step forward. "My father, Chairman Lee of Apex Pharma, told me so much about you. He said you were brilliant. Elite. He said we would get along so well, considering our... backgrounds."

​"Your father's investments do not grant you special privileges in this hospital, Dr. Lee. If you are struggling with the workload, I suggest you spend more time in the library and less time bypassing security protocols."

​"But I am struggling," she said, her voice suddenly cracking. Tears—perfectly timed and entirely synthetic—welled up in her eyes. "I'm so overwhelmed. The pressure here is insane. The senior residents yell at me, the patients are demanding, and I just feel so... so alone."

​Seokjin stared at her, utterly unmoved.

​He thought of Taehyung. He thought of how Taehyung had hyperventilated in the supply closet, how he had studied until he passed out on his textbooks, how he had worn bear ears to make a pediatric patient smile even when he was exhausted. Taehyung was genuinely struggling, yet he faced it with a messy, beautiful resilience.

​This woman in front of him wasn't struggling. She was hunting.

​"If you are experiencing psychological distress, HR provides free counseling services on the second floor," Seokjin said, keeping his voice strictly clinical. "I will have Miss Reyes escort you there now."

​He reached for the intercom on his desk.

​"No! Please!" Dr. Lee lunged forward, placing her manicured hand directly over Seokjin’s.

​Seokjin recoiled as if he had been burned, snatching his hand back. He took two large steps backward, putting himself flush against the glass of the window. "Do not touch me."

​"I just need a mentor," Dr. Lee pleaded, the tears now spilling over her mascara. She walked toward him, completely ignoring his command. "Someone strong. Someone who understands the pressure of being from a high-society family. You understand, don't you? We belong to the same world. Not like the cheap, common trash they hire for the junior wards."

​Seokjin’s blood boiled. The image of Taehyung’s oversized, thrifted sweater flashed in his mind.

​"The 'common trash' in the junior wards have more medical integrity in their fingernails than you will ever possess," Seokjin sneered, his professionalism cracking to reveal pure venom. "You are bordering on severe insubordination. Get out of my office."

​"But Dr. Kim," she whispered, stepping directly into his personal space.

​Before Seokjin could move to the side, she closed the distance. 

She reached out and wrapped her arms tightly around his waist, burying her face into his broad shoulder.

​Seokjin froze. Absolute, paralyzing panic shot through his veins.

​His hands shot up into the air, hovering near his chest, completely refusing to touch her. His mind raced through the hospital bylaws. If he shoved her off violently, she would bruise. With her father's lawyers and her current "distressed" state, she could easily spin this into an assault or harassment suit. A physical altercation in a closed office with no cameras—it was a bureaucratic nightmare waiting to happen.

Back to the Present. . .  

​"Ay, sorry," Taehyung said, his voice flat and strangely calm. "Naka-istorbo ba ako sa 'consultation' niyo?"

​Seokjin’s eyes went wide. "Taehyung! It’s not—" He practically pried the intern’s arms off him, pushing her back with more force than was polite. "Dr. Lee was just leaving."

​The intern, Dr. Lee, turned around, smoothing her hair. She looked at Taehyung with a dismissive, cat-like gaze. "And you are? A delivery boy?"

​Taehyung walked into the room, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. He didn't look at the intern. He kept his eyes locked on Seokjin, who looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

​"Junior Intern Kim Taehyung," Taehyung replied, his voice cold enough to drop the room's temperature by ten degrees. He walked right up to the desk and slammed the tulips down on the mahogany surface. Whack.

​"I brought these to say thank you for the sushi and the stethoscope," Taehyung said, looking Seokjin dead in the eye. "But it looks like you're already being... thanked... by other people."

​"Taehyung, listen to me," Seokjin started, stepping toward him, his hand reaching out.

​"Dr. Kim!" the intern protested, grabbing Seokjin’s sleeve. "We weren't finished discussing my schedule!"

​Taehyung looked at her hand on Seokjin’s sleeve. Then he looked at Seokjin.

​"Chief," Taehyung said, his voice low and dangerous. "If you're so busy 'guiding' the new staff, baka kailangan ko na ring mag-request ng bagong supervisor. I wouldn't want to take up your precious time."

​"Taehyung, don't say that," Seokjin’s voice was desperate now. He pulled his arm away from the intern so sharply she stumbled. "Dr. Lee, out. Now. And report to Dr. Min for a reassignment. You are no longer permitted in this wing."

​"But—"

​"OUT!" Seokjin roared, the Chief's authority finally snapping into place.

​The intern scrambled, grabbing her bag and scurrying out of the office, nearly tripping over her own heels. The door clicked shut, leaving Taehyung and Seokjin alone in the silence.

​Ten seconds passed...

​Finally, Seokjin turned to Taehyung. The "Old Money" poise was gone. He looked frantic. "Taehyung-ah, I swear, I didn't let her do that. She burst in here, started crying about her stress, and then she just... grabbed me. I was too shocked to move for a second."

​Taehyung stood there, arms crossed. He looked at the pink tulips on the desk. They looked lonely.

​"Shocked?" Taehyung asked, an eyebrow raised. "The Great Kim Seokjin, who can handle a mass casualty incident without breaking a sweat, was too 'shocked' to push off a girl half his size?"

​"I was worried about a harassment suit if I was too aggressive!" Seokjin defended, taking a step closer. "But when I saw you... nothing else mattered. Please. Look at me."

​Taehyung didn't move. "Alam niyo ba, Doc? I felt really good today. I bought you those flowers because I thought... maybe I was being too hard on you. Maybe I should show you that I care, too."

​"You do care," Seokjin whispered, now standing directly in front of him. He reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he touched the lapel of Taehyung's coat. "I can see it in your eyes. You’re jealous."

​"Hindi ako s-selos," Taehyung lied, the slight stutter returning only because Seokjin was so close he could smell the sandalwood on his skin.

​"You are," Seokjin murmured, his gaze dropping to Taehyung’s lips. "And I love it. But I promise you, Taehyung, there is no one else. There has never been anyone else since that convention three years ago."

​Taehyung looked up at him, his anger beginning to melt into that confusing, electric tension that always existed between them. "Prove it."

​Seokjin’s eyes darkened. He leaned in, his forehead resting against Taehyung’s. "How? You want me to fire her? I'll do it. You want me to put a sign on my door that says 'Property of Kim Taehyung'? I'll buy the gold plaque today."

​Taehyung let out a small, shaky laugh. "Grabe naman. Ang OA niyo po."

​"I'm serious," Seokjin whispered. He reached down and picked up one of the pink tulips, tucking it into the pocket of Taehyung’s lab coat. "These are beautiful. Thank you. But they're not as beautiful as the person who brought them."

​Taehyung’s heart was drumming a frantic rhythm. He wanted to stay mad, but the way Seokjin was looking at him—like he was the only thing in the world that mattered—was making it impossible.

​"S-Sige na nga," Taehyung muttered, looking away. "But if I see her near you again... I’m going to tell Dr. Jisoo to 'warmly' kick her out of the hospital."

​Seokjin chuckled, a deep, relieved sound. He moved his hand to Taehyung’s waist, pulling him just a fraction closer. The tension was so thick it felt like the air itself was vibrating.

​"Understood," Seokjin said. "Now... about that date I mentioned?"

​Just as the moment was about to reach its breaking point, the office intercom buzzed.

​"Seokjin? It's Namjoon. We have an emergency board meeting in five minutes. And tell Taehyung his friends are looking for him in the cafeteria. Something about a 'sushi betrayal'?"

​Taehyung jumped back, his face heating up instantly. "Lagot. Jungkook knows about the wagyu."

​Seokjin sighed, leaning his head back and groaning. "I am going to fire Namjoon. I swear it."

​Taehyung grabbed the empty paper bag from the tulips and started heading for the door. "S-Sige na, Doc. Work muna. See you later."

​"Taehyungie?"

​Taehyung stopped at the door. His heart did a little somersault as the chief addressed him informally, especially with his nickname. "Po?"

​Seokjin picked up the bouquet of tulips and held them to his face, inhaling the scent. "Thank you. Truly."

​Taehyung smiled—a real, boxy, confident smile—and walked out, leaving the Chief of Medicine alone with his flowers and a very, very fast heartbeat.

————————————————————————

The hospital cafeteria was buzzing with the usual lunchtime rush, but at the corner table reserved unofficially for the "med school survivors," there was a full-blown interrogation happening.

​Taehyung sat in the middle, looking incredibly pleased with himself, while Jungkook, Jimin, and Hobi stared at him like he had just grown a second head.

​"Wagyu, Taehyung? Wagyu steak?!" Jungkook practically yelled, slamming his hands on the table. "Habang kami dito kumakain ng dry na adobo, ikaw pinapakain ng A5 meat sa private study room?! That is a betrayal of the highest order!"

​Taehyung laughed, casually sipping his iced tea. The nervous, clumsy junior from a few weeks ago was nowhere to be seen. He felt confident. He felt powerful. "Ininggit lang kita, Kook. Tapos may pa-dessert pa siya na parang gawa sa ginto. Masarap eh, anong magagawa ko?"

​"Wait, wait, back up," Hobi said, waving a chopstick at him. "You bought him flowers. Pink tulips. Tapos pagpasok mo, may higad na nakapulupot kay Chief?"

​"Yup," Taehyung nodded, his boxy grin widening as he remembered the look of pure terror on Seokjin’s face. "The new intern. She was practically hanging off his neck. So, I slammed the flowers on the desk and gave him an ultimatum."

​Jimin gasped, clapping his hands over his mouth. "Gago! Anong sabi mo?!"

​"Sabi ko, kung busy siya mag-guide ng iba, hahanap na lang ako ng bagong supervisor. I swear, the cold doctor we knew literally left his body. Pinapalabas niya agad 'yung intern, as in sinigawan niya. 'OUT!' ganyan." Taehyung mimicked Seokjin’s deep, commanding voice, though it sounded a bit too high-pitched coming from him.

​Jungkook let out a loud whistle. "Lakas mo, bro. You practically marked your territory sa mismong opisina ng Chief of Medicine. 'Yung intern siguro umuwing umiiyak."

​"She deserved it," Taehyung said, crossing his arms. "Bakit siya yayakap sa boss? Lalo na sa boss na... you know. Boss ko."

​"Boss mo o jowa mo?" Jimin teased, nudging Taehyung’s ribs.

​"Wala pa kami sa label, okay?" Taehyung deflected, though he couldn't hide the deep blush creeping up his neck. "He mentioned a date. Baka mamaya. I don't know, we'll see. He's probably planning something super extra again."

​Hobi smiled, looking genuinely happy for his friend. "Deserve, Tae. You've been crushing on him since you figured out he wasn't actually trying to make your life a living hell."

​"I am NOT crushing on him," Taehyung protested, though everyone at the table rolled their eyes. "Fine, maybe slight lang."

​med school survivors 🩺

​jk 🐰: guys confirm ko lang, we are all attending the kim-kim nuptials right??

​jimin 🐥: syempre!! ako ung maid of honor 

​tae 🐯: MGA DEPUTA WALA PANG KASAL HAHAHAHAHA DATE PA NGA LANG

​hobi 🐿: omg nag-chat si dr. namjoon sa akin. nagtatanong kung anong favorite food mo tae. the chief is doing research!!! :DD

​tae 🐯: HALA SERYOSO BA?? sabihin mo kahit ano basta wag spicy!!

​jk 🐰: sasabihin ko sa kanya isaw and betamax. tignan natin kung kakain si chief ng street food sa kanto HAHAHAH

​tae 🐯: JUNGKOOK SUBUKAN MO LANG SASAKALIN KITA.

————————————————————————

​The afternoon rounds were grueling, but Taehyung powered through them with unmatched energy. He was updating a patient's chart near the supply corridor when a hand suddenly grabbed his elbow, pulling him gently but firmly through a heavy wooden door.

​The door clicked shut, plunging the space into semi-darkness, illuminated only by the thin strip of light from the hallway.

​Taehyung didn't even have time to react before he recognized the scent. Pears and expensive sandalwood.

​"Chief," Taehyung whispered, looking up.

​Seokjin was standing incredibly close, his broad shoulders practically boxing Taehyung in between the shelves of sterile gauze and saline solutions. He looked impeccable, as always, but his eyes were soft, filled with an intensity that made Taehyung’s breath hitch.

​"I have been trying to get you alone for three hours," Seokjin said, his voice a low, velvety murmur. "But you are entirely too popular with the patients today."

​Taehyung smirked, leaning back against the shelf. The confidence from the cafeteria was still running through his veins. "Well, what can I say, Doc? Good bedside manner. Maybe you should take notes."

​Seokjin chuckled, stepping even closer until their chests were almost touching. He reached up, his long, elegant fingers gently adjusting the collar of Taehyung's scrubs. "I don't need notes on bedside manner. I need to know if you're free at 8:00 PM tonight."

​Taehyung pretended to think about it, looking up at the ceiling. "Hmm. 8:00 PM? I don't know. Baka pagod na ako. Dami kong double shifts lately eh."

​"Taehyung," Seokjin warned playfully, his thumb brushing against Taehyung’s jawline. "Do not play hard to get with me. I already booked the entire rooftop of Le Bernardin. If you don't show up, I'll be eating enough lobster for four people."

​"The entire rooftop?" Taehyung laughed, swatting Seokjin’s arm lightly. "Ang OA mo talaga. Sabi ko date lang, hindi proposal!"

​"I don't do things in halves, Taehyung-ah," Seokjin said, his gaze dropping to Taehyung's lips for a fleeting second before returning to his eyes. "And I want this to be perfect. So... 8:00 PM?"

​Taehyung smiled—a warm, genuine smile that reached his eyes. "Okay. 8:00 PM. But I don't have a fancy suit here at the hospital. I only have my normal clothes."

​"You could wear a potato sack and I would still think you're the most beautiful person in the room," Seokjin murmured earnestly. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Taehyung’s forehead. It was tender, respectful, and so full of affection that Taehyung felt his knees go weak.

​"I'll see you later, Junior," Seokjin whispered, stepping back. He opened the door a crack, checked the hallway, and slipped out smoothly.

​Taehyung stood in the closet for a moment, pressing his hands against his flushed cheeks. He felt like he was floating. Everything was finally, perfectly, falling into place.

​Basement of the Hospital, 7:45 PM

​The hospital was transitioning into its quiet, nighttime rhythm. The daytime staff had mostly cleared out, leaving the halls to the skeletal night crew.

​Taehyung was practically skipping as he made his way down to the B2 level, where the junior staff locker rooms were located. He had fifteen minutes to change out of his scrubs, fix his hair, and meet Seokjin at the front lobby.

​He was typing a message on his phone as he walked through the dimly lit corridor that connected the laundry wing to the locker rooms.

​med school survivors 🩺

​tae 🐯: guys pauwi na kayo?? mag-aayos lang me 

tae 🐯: wish me luck!!

​jk 🐰: good luck hyung!! wag kang madapa sa date niyo pls lang 🥹

jimin 🐥: good luck taetae! dalaginding na si bunso oh

​hobi 🐿: enjoy taehyungie!! update us pagkauwi!! <33

​Taehyung pocketed his phone, smiling to himself. He turned the corner, the hum of the hospital's massive AC units masking the sound of footsteps.

​"Dr. Kim."

​Taehyung stopped. The voice came from the shadows near the disused freight elevator.

​A figure stepped out into the flickering fluorescent light. It was Dr. Lee, the new intern from earlier that morning. But she didn't look like the polished, flirtatious woman from Seokjin’s office. Her hair was messy, her lab coat was unbuttoned, and her mascara was slightly smeared under her eyes.

​Taehyung’s good mood evaporated instantly, replaced by a deep sense of irritation. "Dr. Lee? Anong ginagawa mo rito sa B2? Diba nilipat ka ni Chief sa kabilang building?"

​"I was suspended," she said, her voice shaking with an unstable, dangerous edge. "Dr. Min put it on my permanent record. Harassment of a superior. Because of you."

​Taehyung sighed, maintaining his ground. He wasn't going to let this ruin his night. "It wasn't because of me. It was because you crossed a line. It's a hospital, not a bar. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be."

​He stepped to the side to walk past her, but she moved, blocking his path.

​"You think you're so special, don't you?" Dr. Lee spat, her eyes wide and manic. "You walk around here like you own the place just because he looks at you. I saw his file! I know who his family is. He's top-tier. He’s elite. And you? You're just some clumsy, stuttering charity case he’s playing with!"

​Taehyung’s jaw tightened. "Wala akong oras para sa mga ganitong drama. Tabi."

​"He doesn't love you," she whispered, taking a step closer. Her hand was buried deep in the pocket of her lab coat. "He's just using you to ruin my chances. I was supposed to be the Chief's wife. My family planned this. You ruined everything."

​"You're crazy," Taehyung said, finally feeling a prickle of unease. The look in her eyes wasn't just jealous; it was completely unhinged. He took a step back. "I'm leaving. Kung may problema ka, kausapin mo ang HR."

​Taehyung turned his back on her, walking briskly toward the locker room doors at the end of the hall. He just needed to get inside and lock the door.

​"I SAID, YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!"

​Taehyung heard the frantic click of her heels against the linoleum. He turned his head, about to yell at her to back off.

​SHK.

​It was a quiet sound. Like tearing thick fabric.

​Taehyung felt a sudden, heavy punch to his left side, just below his ribs. It didn't hurt at first. It just felt like a massive pressure that knocked the wind completely out of his lungs.

​He stumbled backward, hitting the concrete wall of the corridor. He looked down, confused.

​Dr. Lee was standing in front of him, panting heavily. In her right hand, she held a standard-issue surgical scalpel—the heavy-duty kind used for deep tissue incisions. The silver blade was coated in bright, sickening crimson.

​"You don't deserve him," she whispered, dropping the scalpel. It clattered against the floor, the sound echoing loudly in the empty hall. She looked at her bloody hands, her face twisting in horror as reality suddenly crashed down on her. "I... I didn't..."

​She turned and ran, her footsteps echoing wildly as she fled down the corridor, leaving Taehyung alone.

​Taehyung stood frozen against the wall. What?

​He slowly brought his trembling hand to his side. His white lab coat was rapidly turning red, the stain blooming outward like a horrific flower. He touched the wound.

​The pain hit him then. It was a blinding, white-hot agony that ripped through his entire body. His legs gave out instantly.

​He collapsed onto the cold linoleum floor, gasping for air that felt like it was escaping through the hole in his side.

​"T-Tulong..." he croaked, but his voice was barely a whisper. The corridor was completely empty. The AC units hummed indifferently.

​His vision began to blur at the edges, the fluorescent lights above him turning into harsh, blinding streaks. He fumbled for his pocket, his bloody fingers pulling out his phone. He unlocked it, the screen blurring through his tears.

​He managed to open his contacts. He didn't press the group chat. He pressed the name pinned at the very top. Chief.

​The phone rang. Once. Twice.

​“Taehyungie? I’m waiting at the lobby. Are you almost done?” Seokjin’s voice was warm, filled with a soft, eager happiness that broke Taehyung’s heart.

​"D-Doc..." Taehyung choked out, his stutter returning out of pure, terrifying shock. He coughed, a metallic taste filling his mouth. "S-Seokjin..."

​“Taehyungie? What’s wrong? Are you crying? Where are you?” The warmth in Seokjin's voice instantly vanished, replaced by a sharp, panicked urgency.

​"B-B2... locker r-room..." Taehyung gasped, his head lolling to the side, pressing against the cold tiles. His fingers were going numb. The phone slipped from his hand, clattering onto the floor, the speakerphone still on.

​“Taehyung! TAEHYUNG! Hold on, I’m coming! Don't close your eyes, do you hear me?! TAEHYUNG!”

​Seokjin’s desperate shouts echoed from the small speaker, but to Taehyung, they sounded like they were underwater. The pain was too much. The cold was seeping into his bones.

​His eyes slowly drifted shut, the last thing he saw being the pool of crimson spreading across the white tiles, staining the pink tulip he had kept safely in his pocket all day.

​Then, everything went dark.

————————————————————————

​The hospital corridors had always been Seokjin’s kingdom. He knew every turn, every protocol, and every standard operating procedure by heart. 

But as he sprinted down the stairwell toward the B2 level, skipping three steps at a time, he wasn't the Chief of Medicine. He was just a man watching his entire world crumble through the speaker of a dropped cell phone.

​"Code Blue! Code Blue! B2 Locker Room corridor! We need a trauma team NOW!" Seokjin screamed into his radio, his voice cracking so violently it sounded like a physical tear.

​He burst through the heavy fire doors of the basement. The fluorescent lights flickered, casting long, sickening shadows.

​Then, he saw him. 

​The pool of crimson. It was impossibly large, spreading across the white linoleum like spilled ink. And in the center of it was Taehyung.

​"No. No, no, NO." Seokjin dropped to his knees, sliding in the blood. He didn't care about his expensive trousers or his pristine white coat. He gathered Taehyung into his arms, his hands frantically pressing against the massive wound on the boy’s side. The blood was warm, soaking through Seokjin’s fingers instantly.

​"Taehyung. Hey. Open your eyes. Look at me," Seokjin begged, his chest heaving as panic clawed at his throat. "I'm right here. I'm pressing on it. You're going to be fine. Do you hear me?!"

​Taehyung’s head lolled weakly against Seokjin’s arm. His skin, usually glowing with that warm, chaotic energy, was ashen. His lips were blue. Slowly, agonizingly, his eyelashes fluttered open. The oversized glasses were bent and smeared with red.

​"D-Doc..." Taehyung whispered. A small, bubbly cough escaped his lips, bringing a fresh wave of blood.

​"Don't speak. Save your energy," Seokjin commanded, but his voice was completely devoid of its usual authority. It was just pure, unfiltered terror. 

"WHERE IS THE DAMN TRAUMA TEAM?!" he roared down the empty hall.

​Suddenly, the doors flew open. Namjoon and Yoongi burst in, leading a team of nurses with a stretcher and a crash cart.

​Yoongi dropped to his knees next to Seokjin, his eyes going wide as he saw the amount of blood. "Lord... The descending aorta. We need to clamp this now or he bleeds out in minutes."

​"Move, Seokjin, let us get him on the board," Namjoon ordered, his voice tight but professional.

​But Seokjin couldn't let go. His hands were locked over the wound, his entire body trembling violently. "I have it. I'm holding the pressure. Get him up!"

​They hoisted Taehyung onto the stretcher. The world turned into a chaotic blur of shouting, rushing footsteps, and the agonizing squeak of the stretcher wheels. Seokjin ran alongside them, one hand pressing down on Taehyung’s side, the other gripping the boy’s cold, limp hand.

​"Stay with me, Taehyungie," Seokjin chanted, tears freely streaming down his face, completely abandoning any facade of the 'Masungit' Chief he is. "We have a reservation at 8:00. You promised me. You said you'd be there."

​They crashed through the doors of the ER. The overhead lights were blinding. Yoongi was shouting for O-negative blood, Namjoon was prepping the intubation kit, and nurses were frantically cutting away Taehyung’s blood-soaked uniform.

​A crushed, crimson-stained pink tulip fell from Taehyung’s pocket onto the floor. Seokjin saw it, and a sob finally ripped from his chest.

​"BP is tanking! 60 over 40!" a nurse yelled.

​"He's losing too much, Seokjin, you need to step back so I can pack the wound!" Yoongi yelled, trying to physically pry Seokjin away.

​"NO!" Seokjin snarled, his eyes wild. "I'm not leaving him!"

​Taehyung, amidst the chaos of tubes and screaming monitors, weakly squeezed Seokjin’s fingers. The movement was so slight it was almost imperceptible, but Seokjin felt it.

​He looked down. Taehyung was looking at him. His eyes were heavy, the light in them dimming, but that familiar, stubborn spark was still there.

​"T-Taehyungie..." Seokjin choked, leaning his face down until his forehead rested against Taehyung’s. "Hold on. Please. Just a little longer."

​Taehyung let out a shallow, wet breath. He tried to smile—his signature boxy grin—but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

​"Doc..." Taehyung whispered, his voice incredibly faint.

​"I'm here. I'm right here."

​"Ang dumi na... ng coat mo..." Taehyung breathed out, his thumb weakly brushing against Seokjin’s blood-stained sleeve.

​Seokjin let out a wet, broken laugh. "I don't care. I have a hundred of them. I only have one of you. So you have to stay."

​"I don't think... I can p-pull through this one, Chief," Taehyung stuttered, his eyes drifting out of focus. "M-Masyado yata akong... n-naging clumsy. I tripped... really hard."

​"Stop talking like that. You're not going anywhere!" Seokjin pleaded, his voice breaking entirely. He pressed kisses to Taehyung’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose, transferring the blood from his own hands onto the boy's pale skin. "We're going on our date. I'm going to buy you the whole restaurant. I'm going to give you everything."

​Taehyung’s breathing hitched. The monitor behind them started to beep faster, a frantic, erratic rhythm.

​"Doc... S-Seokjin..." Taehyung forced his eyes to focus on Seokjin one last time. The fear in the boy's eyes was gone, replaced by a devastating, beautiful acceptance. "Wag ka m-magagalit... okay? P-Paki-sabi kela Jimin... tsaka kela Jungkook and Hobi... wag iiyak. Pangit sila umiyak."

​"You can tell them yourself," Seokjin sobbed, his tears falling onto Taehyung’s cheeks.

​"S-Sayang," Taehyung whispered, a single tear slipping from his eye. "Gusto ko pa naman sana... m-malaman kung... ano lasa nung wagyu sa r-rooftop."

​"We'll go tomorrow. Tomorrow night. I promise."

​"Gago," Taehyung's voice was barely a thread of sound now. "S-Sabi ko na nga ba... c-crush mo ko eh."

​"I love you," Seokjin blurted out, the words tearing out of his soul. "I love you, Taehyung. Please don't leave me. Please."

​Taehyung smiled. It was faint, but it was peaceful.

​"Seokjin," Taehyung breathed out softly. "Yung tulips... bagay sa'yo. I'm... I'm glad I d-didn't avoid you today."

​Taehyung’s hand went completely limp in Seokjin’s grip. His chest stopped rising. His eyes, still looking at Seokjin, lost their light.

​BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP.

​The monitor screamed. It was a single, unending tone that pierced through the room like a physical blade.

​"He's crashing! Starting compressions!" Yoongi yelled, his own face bathed in tears as he pushed Seokjin aside and began pounding on Taehyung’s chest. "Come on, kid! Wake up! One, two, three—push!"

​"Pushing epi!" Ken shouted, his hands shaking as he injected the syringe.

​Seokjin was pushed back against the wall of the trauma bay. He slid down until he hit the floor, his knees drawn to his chest, his hands covered in Taehyung’s blood. He stared blankly at the scene in front of him. Yoongi was doing CPR, screaming at Taehyung to wake up.

​Minutes passed. It felt like hours. It felt like lifetimes.

​Finally, Namjoon placed a heavy, trembling hand on Yoongi’s shoulder.

​"Yoongi. Stop."

​"NO! HE'S JUST 21! HE'S A KID!" Yoongi screamed, pushing Namjoon away and continuing the compressions. "WAKE UP, TAEHYUNG!"

​"Yoongi, he's gone!" Namjoon yelled, pulling him back forcefully, wrapping his arms around the older doctor as Yoongi finally broke, sobbing into Namjoon’s chest.

The flatline continued its endless, mocking song.

​"Time of death..." Namjoon choked out, looking at the clock on the wall.

"7:59 PM."

​Outside the glass doors of the trauma bay, Jimin, Jungkook, and Hobi had just arrived. When Jimin saw the flatline monitor, his knees gave out. He let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed down the entire ward. Jungkook collapsed against the wall, burying his face in his hands as he wailed, while Hobi fell to the floor, holding onto Jimin as they both shattered into a million pieces.

​Inside the room, Seokjin didn't scream. He didn't cry anymore.

​He slowly crawled across the floor, ignoring the blood, and pulled himself up by the edge of the stretcher. He reached out and gently closed Taehyung’s eyes.

Then, he picked up the crushed pink tulip from the floor, placed it in Taehyung’s cold hands, and rested his forehead against the boy’s chest, letting the silence swallow him whole.

​Three Years Later... 

​The sun was hitting the pavement of Manila, but inside the air-conditioned halls of Seoul General Hospital, everything was sterile. Orderly. Cold.

​Dr. Park Jimin, now a fully-fledged resident, walked down the IM ward, flipping through a patient chart. Beside him was Dr. Jeon Jungkook, looking tired but focused.

​They walked past the Executive Wing. Jimin paused, looking at the heavy oak doors of the Chief of Medicine’s office.

​"Wala na naman siya?" Jungkook asked quietly, stopping beside Jimin.

​Jimin sighed. "Pangatlong araw na. Sabi ni Doc Namjoon, nag-file daw ng indefinite leave si Chief."

​Jungkook looked at the floor. "Hindi na siya naka-recover, 'no, hyung?"

​"None of us did, Kook. Pero si Chief..." Jimin shook his head, a heavy sadness in his eyes. "Si Chief namatay din nung araw na 'yun. Humihinga nalang yung katawan niya ngayon."

​It was true. 

For the past three years, Dr. Kim Seokjin had been a ghost. He never raised his voice. He never smiled. He worked 18-hour shifts, performed flawless surgeries, and ran the hospital with terrifying efficiency. But his eyes were empty. There was no warmth, no 'smug' confidence.

​The only thing that remained untouched was a small, gold plaque on his desk that read: Dr. Kim Taehyung. 

Beside it sat a framed photo from a medical convention, and a single, dried pink tulip sealed in glass.

​————————————————————————

​Miles away, in an ultra-exclusive penthouse overlooking the city, the silence was deafening.

​Dr. Kim Namjoon unlocked the heavy front door with the spare key Seokjin had given him years ago. He stepped inside. The apartment was immaculate, but it felt like a museum. Cold. Unlived-in.

​"Seokjin? Are you here?" Namjoon called out, taking his shoes off. "You missed the board meeting again. Ken is covering for you, but we really need—"

​Namjoon stopped outside the master bedroom. The door was slightly ajar.

​He pushed it open.

​The room was bathed in the soft, golden light of the late afternoon sun. The air smelled faintly of expensive sandalwood and, strangely, fresh tulips. There was a large vase of them on the nightstand.

​And there, lying on top of the perfectly made bed, was Seokjin.

​He was dressed in a tailored, charcoal-grey suit—the exact suit he had bought three years ago for a rooftop date that never happened. His hands were folded peacefully over his chest. In his right hand, he held the framed photograph of a boy with messy curls and oversized glasses. In his left, a single, fresh pink tulip.

​His face was relaxed. The deep lines of exhaustion and grief that had aged him over the past three years were gone. He looked young again. He looked... happy.

A Few Hours Before... 

Three Years Ago – The 14th Asian Medical Symposium (Manila, Philippines)

An hour after the medical convention, the symposium broke for lunch. The VIPs were ushered into a private dining hall, but Seokjin managed to slip away. He told Namjoon he needed a "walk to clear his head."

​He was actually looking for a boy in an oversized sweater.

​He found him near the general admission catering tables. Taehyung was holding a tiny paper plate, attempting to balance an impossible architecture of mini-croissants, cheese cubes, and three different types of cake.

​"B-Bilis, bago maubos yung strawberry tart," Taehyung was whispering to another student (who looked suspiciously like a young Park Jimin), stacking a fourth pastry onto his precarious tower.

​Seokjin stood behind a large potted palm tree, out of sight. He leaned against the marble pillar, crossing his arms, just watching.

​He watched Taehyung drop a croissant, mourn it for a solid five seconds, and then successfully steal a strawberry tart right from under a sleeping senior doctor's nose. He watched Taehyung laugh—a deep, soulful, ringing sound that made the sterile convention hall feel warm.

​Seokjin, the man who had everything, realized he wanted nothing more than to walk over there, buy the kid a hundred strawberry tarts, and listen to him talk about mutated enzymes until the sun went down.

'​I can't,' Seokjin thought, the harsh reality of his position settling back in. 'He's a first-year student. I'm the Chief. It's inappropriate. It's ridiculous.'

​But as Taehyung bit into the tart, his eyes crinkling into crescents of pure joy, Seokjin’s hand moved on its own.

​He pulled out his phone. He opened the camera. He zoomed in slightly, framing the messy curls, the thick glasses, and that radiant, boxy smile.

​Click.

​Seokjin looked at the photo on his screen. It wasn't professional. It wasn't 'Old Money'. It was a secret. It was the moment the great Kim Seokjin fell hopelessly, entirely, and permanently in love.

​He slipped the phone back into his pocket just as Namjoon found him.

​"There you are," Namjoon said, handing him a water bottle. "The hospital board from Tokyo wants to speak with you. What were you looking at?"

​Seokjin looked away from the buffet table, adjusting his blazer and slipping his 'sungit' mask perfectly back into place.

​"Nothing," Seokjin lied smoothly. "Just observing the future of our medical field."

​They started walking back toward the VIP lounge.

​"By the way, Namjoon," Seokjin said casually, not looking back. "That student from the Q&A. Kim Taehyung."

​"Yeah? The kid who called you kuya?"

​"Get his academic file," Seokjin ordered, his tone suddenly very serious. "Track his residency applications when the time comes. If he applies anywhere else, I want our HR to counter-offer. I want him at our hospital."

​Namjoon raised an eyebrow. "Really? An investment? He's a bit... unpolished, don't you think?"

​Seokjin touched the pocket where his phone rested. He thought of the pink flush on Taehyung's cheeks, the way he stuttered, and the way he hadn't cared at all about Seokjin's status in the elevator.

​"He has potential," Seokjin said quietly.

​Three years, Seokjin promised himself as he walked away. Three years until he graduates. I will wait.

​He just didn't know that three years later, he would finally get his chance—only to lose it before the clock even struck eight.

END OF FLASHBACK

​On the nightstand, beside an empty glass of water and an empty, unlabelled prescription bottle, rested a heavy, cream-colored envelope.

​Namjoon’s breath hitched. The files in his hands dropped to the floor, scattering across the hardwood. Tears immediately blurred his vision as he slowly walked toward the bed.

​"Jin-hyung..." Namjoon whispered, his voice breaking. He checked for a pulse out of pure instinct, but the skin was already cold. He was gone. He had been gone for hours.

​With trembling hands, Namjoon picked up the envelope. The handwriting was perfect, elegant, and steady. He opened it.

​There was no formal declaration of his assets. No instructions for the hospital board. It wasn't a letter to the world. It was just a note, written for one person.

​Namjoon read it through his tears, the words etching themselves into his memory forever.

​“ To the world, I was the Chief of Medicine. A man built on logic, science, and the absolute certainty of the human body.

​But to myself, I was just a man waiting for 8:00 PM.

​They tell me that time heals all wounds. They don't know that some wounds are too close to the heart to ever close. 

Every time I walk down B2, every time I see a white coat, every time someone drops a clipboard, I look for you. I’ve spent three years looking for you in empty hallways, Taehyungie.

​I am tired of looking.

​I have secured the hospital’s future. Namjoon will make an excellent Chief. My family is taken care of. My duties here are complete.

​I’m sorry it took me so long to get ready. The traffic in this world was terrible without you.

​I am coming to you now, Junior. I booked the best table. I ordered the wagyu. Please, do not hide behind any plants when I get there. Don't run away from me.

​Wait for me.

​Forever yours,

Doc Gwapo. ”

​Namjoon lowered the letter, covering his mouth as a wracking sob tore through the silent room. He looked at Seokjin, lying there so peacefully in his best suit, clutching the photo of the boy he couldn't live without.

​Somewhere, in a place where there were no hospitals, no blood, and no goodbyes, a clumsy junior with a boxy smile was waiting by a rooftop table. 

And finally, after three agonizing years, 

the Chief had arrived.