You've been working as the Port Mafia's doctor for quite a while. People always come in, having a small and pointless talk with you while you treat them, and once they step outside, they'll be no one but strangers. That's always your routine.

This time, however, you're checking the medications. Throwing expired one, taking notes on those that needs refill and so on. That is, until the door slam open and a small child running towards you. Stumbling a few times before they hugged you from the side. Their small, bloodied hands gripping into yours. It was Q. A kid that was taken in by the boss a year ago and has spent quite the time in your infirmary. All because of a training they need to be wounded up like this. The kid's clothes are all bloodied and tattered. There are visible cuts between their shoulder and bruises accompanying.

They could be seen trembling, choked out sobs escaping their lips as they tugged on your hand more and more. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!" The words flowing out between sobs, "please hide me. I don't want to go back!"