There’s always someone looking to make a buck. Black Jack is no exception, although he likes to think he spends it better. Written for my 20 Fandoms Challenge. Warnings for very mild medical gore, just blood mentions.
His hands are steady as he lights the cigarette. His gaze is focused on the wall in front of it, eyes outlined by dark circles concentrating on the beige tile in front of him. He wants to think about anything, anything, that doesn’t involve remembering how his shoulders ache, how his legs are stiff and sore, how no matter how many times he cracks his neck he still feels like something is off. A twelve hour surgery is no joke, but Black Jack always delivers on his promises.
“There’s no smoking in here.”
He squints and looks for the offending voice. The owner of it is a child, a little girl with eyes like his daughter’s, and she does not look pleased. Another trait shared by Pinoko.
“I’m a doctor,” he says, unclear why she can’t tell that from the bloodstained scrubs.
“No one is allowed to smoke!”