A Couple Minutes

a #jayke short fic

Jino had everything people dreamed of.

A successful career. A name respected in the medical field. Awards lining the shelves of his office. A life others envied.

Yet none of those mattered.

If he could ask for one thing, just one, he would trade everything in an instant…

To go back to the days when Jaan was still beside him.

Jino and Jaan during their med school.

February again.

Three years after that decision.

For most people, February meant flowers, dates, and love songs playing in every café. For me, it had become a month of quiet suffering. A month filled with memories I could either keep or let go.

The cries around me snapped me out of my thoughts.

I steadied myself.

This wasn’t my first emergency, but fear still lurked somewhere inside me. No matter how many years I spent saving lives, that feeling never disappeared.

Pushing everything aside, I hurried toward the little girl crying in the corner of the emergency room.

“Doc!”

A woman in her late twenties rushed to me. Her arms and legs were covered with bruises and scratches, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Please check my daughter. She’s been crying nonstop. The other doctors are busy…”

I glanced around the ER.

Patients filled every bed. Some were fighting for their lives. Nurses and doctors rushed from one corner to another. Minor injuries often went unnoticed when death was knocking on someone else’s door.

I crouched in front of the little girl and gently wiped her tears.

“Hey, hey. Stop crying. I’m a doctor, remember what your teacher told you about doctors? We’ll make the pain go away, okay?”

Her knee was covered in blood and dirt.

She cried even harder as I cleaned the wound, but thankfully it wasn’t deep enough to cause serious damage. Still, she’d need stitches.

Beside me, her mother trembled, trying her best not to cry herself.

I reached inside my lab coat and pulled out the chocolate I always kept in my pocket.

“There you go.”

The little girl sniffled.

“You’re very brave, you know? And if you stop crying, your mommy might stop crying too.”

Her watery eyes shifted toward her mother.

“You don’t like seeing Mommy cry, right?”

After a moment, she nodded and accepted the chocolate.

I smiled.

“Good girl.”

As I stood up to attend to the next patient…

“Jino.”

My body froze.

Three years.

Three years, and that voice still knew how to stop my heart.

Warm fingers wrapped around my arm, and electricity shot through me before I quickly buried the feeling.

I turned around.

Jaan.

No.

Dr. Park.

His eyes, those eyes I’d spent years trying to forget… were fixed on me.

“Dr. Sim, I need your opinion on this.”

I hated how something inside me still softened at the sound of his voice.

“Dr. Sim” I corrected quietly.

Something flickered in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

He handed me the CT scan.

“This is a case of tension pneumothorax.” I said after studying it. (when air is trapped in the lungs and cannot escape)

“The patient complained of shortness of breath and stabbing chest pain. He hit the steering wheel during the accident. The rescue took too long.” Jaan added.

“He needs surgery immediately. If the pressure continues to build, his heart will fail.”

“I know.”

He sighed and looked at me.

“Will you do this with me?”

I looked up.

“I’d like you to assist.”

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

The seriousness on his face sharpened every familiar feature I’d once memorized. The same dark eyes. The same jawline.

God.

I missed his face.

And I hated myself for missing it.

“Why me?” I asked quietly.

His lips curved into the slightest smile.

“Why not?”

Three years.

Three years without speaking.

Three years spent convincing myself I had already moved on.

And yet, standing this close to him again, I realized something painful.

Some wounds didn’t bleed.

They just stayed.

Waiting.

Patiently.

Until the person who caused them stood in front of you again.

I swallowed whatever emotions threatened to surface and nodded.

“Fine.”

A small smile appeared on Jaan’s lips.

“Good. Let’s save him first.”

The nurse beside us stood frozen for a second, clipboard clutched tightly against her chest, waiting for further instructions. Jaan turned to her, his expression hard and unreadable.

“Run the necessary tests and prepare the OR. We’re doing a video-assisted thoracic surgery. If we encounter complications, we’ll proceed with a bleb resection if necessary.” (video-assisted thoracic surgery can be part of the treatment for a tension pneumothorax, but not as an immediate lifesaving intervention. while bleb resection, the surgeon removes the ruptured thin-walled air pockets that form on the surface of the lung.)

“Uh… Doc, we’re still trying to contact the patient’s relatives. We don’t have their consent yet, and we’re not sure if they can settle the thirty percent down payment — ”

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?” Jaan snapped, his voice low but sharp enough to make the nurse flinch. “Prepare the operating room. Now. This is an emergency case.”

The nurse immediately bowed her head and hurried away, nearly stumbling over her own feet.

I bit my lip and glanced at him. “Your father… I mean, Dr. Park… he’s definitely going to yell at you for breaking protocol.”

Jaan let out a bitter scoff. His jaw tightened as he looked at me. “Why?” he asked quietly. “Did you already experience it firsthand?”

My breath hitched.

I quickly looked away before he could catch the flicker in my eyes. Memories I had buried so deeply threatened to rise to the surface again… memories I had no intention of reliving.

Without answering, I turned on my heel and headed toward the scrub room, pretending I was too busy to hear him.

Ten minutes later, the patient was being wheeled into the operating room.

The sterile lights above us shone mercilessly bright, and the steady beeping of the monitors echoed through the silence. As I adjusted my gloves and stood beside the operating table, I could feel Jaan across from me.

Neither of us spoke.

But somehow, the tension between us felt heavier than the life hanging by a thread beneath our hands.

“We may start.”

I handed him the scalpel.

Without another word, he made the first incision.

The monitor illuminated the room, displaying the inside of the patient’s chest. His movements were precise, and confident… exactly the same as I remembered.

And maybe that was the problem.

Because while he focused on saving a life, I was fighting the memories that came rushing back.

The countless nights we spent studying together.

The meals we skipped because we were too busy.

The promises whispered between exhausted smiles.

The ring hidden inside my drawer that I never got to give back.

“Trocar.” (a surgical instrument used to create an entry point into a body cavity during minimally invasive surgery.)

His voice snapped me back.

I handed it to him immediately.

“Focus, Dr. Sim.”

My ears burned.

“I’m focused.”

He glanced at me.

“No, you’re not.”

And for some reason, he sounded almost disappointed.

We continued in silence.

An hour and a half later, the surgery was over.

Successful.

Everyone sighed in relief.

Jaan removed his gloves and turned to the patient’s family.

I didn’t wait.

I couldn’t.

Because if I stayed another second, I might start remembering things I had spent three years trying to bury.

I stayed up all night, tending to every patient I could while my phone remained painfully silent. Not a single message from Jaan as if he knows my new number already. Between the endless stream of emergencies and the deafening sound of monitors, I barely had time to think, yet the ache of not hearing from him lingered somewhere in the back of my mind.

The entire ER looked exhausted. Dark circles hung beneath everyone’s eyes, uniforms were wrinkled, and cups of cold coffee sat forgotten on counters. Still, no one complained. No one even thought of resting. We were all too busy holding people together, even when we ourselves were falling apart.

By the time the tension finally eased, the first rays of sunlight were already spilling through the windows. Morning had arrived without anyone noticing. My feet throbbed from hours of running around, and a pounding headache settled behind my eyes. Every muscle in my body screamed for rest.

I dragged myself toward the staff room like a ghost, my body moving on pure exhaustion. The chaos outside had quieted, but the emptiness inside me remained. All I wanted was a few hours of sleep…something to drown out the fatigue, the loneliness, and the disappointment that had kept me awake just as much as the night shift itself. I collapsed onto my desk in the staff room and fell asleep almost instantly.

The next thing I knew, a familiar scent tickled my nose.

I slowly opened my eyes.

And nearly stopped breathing.

Jaan’s face was inches away from mine.

“Morning.”

Still half asleep, I blinked twice.

He smiled.

God.

I missed that smile.

I missed it so much.

I wished…

No.

I shouldn’t wish for things that were already gone.

“Wake up” he whispered. “Let’s get coffee.”

Reality came crashing down.

I pushed his face away.

“What the — “

I ran straight to the restroom.

“You drooled, Jino!”

His laughter echoed outside.

“And you have morning stars too!”

“Shut up!”

“You looked cute, though!”

Cute?!

Three years.

Three years without speaking.

And now he’s teasing me like nothing happened?

I quickly fixed myself and came out.

Jaan was leaning against the wall, trying and failing to hide his grin.

I ignored him and walked ahead.

He followed.

“Still mad?”

“No.”

“You’re angry.”

“I’m not.”

“Then look at me.”

“No.”

“Jino.”

Silence.

“Jino.”

I kept walking.

“Jino.”

“Can you stop?!”

He burst out laughing.

“There he is.”

I glared at him.

“I took pictures of you sleeping.”

My eyes widened.

“You WHAT?!”

He proudly showed me his phone.

“Thirty minutes, Dr. Sim. I waited thirty whole minutes. You sleep like a dead person.”

“Delete that!”

“No.”

“Delete it!”

“No.”

“Jaan!”

He laughed so hard he almost doubled over.

And for the first time in three years…

I laughed too.

Not because he was funny.

But because I forgot how much I missed hearing that sound.

Missed him.

Missed us.

We ended up chasing each other through the hallway like idiots, ignoring the weird looks from the nurses.

Then suddenly…

The emergency alarm rang.

Both of us froze.

Duty first.

Always.

By the time we arrived at the ER, chaos had already erupted.

Multiple trauma cases.

People are screaming.

Children crying.

Doctors and nurses running everywhere.

Jaan immediately put on his gloves.

“I guess our date is postponed again.”

I turned around.

“What?”

He winked.

“See you later, babe.”

He disappeared into the crowd, leaving me frozen in place.

Three years ago, I lost the love of my life.

Three years ago, we stopped talking.

Three years ago, I watched him walk away without looking back.

So why…

Why did my phone vibrate just then?

Unknown Number.

1 unread message.

I never wanted to leave you, Jino.

My breath caught in my throat.

Why…

Why did my stupid heart still beat only for him?

Little did I know…

Those stolen smiles, silly arguments, and the way he called me babe again…

They weren’t just random moments.

Because after three years apart…

Jaan Park only needed a couple minutes to turn my world upside down once more.