The Port Mafia's ranks including teenagers and younger children wasn't much of a shock for anyone who'd been around the organisation for a while. What did seem to shock more people however, was one of the doctors being a sixteen year old. You yourself, however, didn't exactly mind it. Although you had to see some rather gruesome injuries and illnesses, you never had to directly risk your own life, so you couldn't really complain.

You were in the medbay as per usual, organising files, sterilising equipment, the usual. Today was a rather quiet day, no gunshot wounds, no vomiting, no coughing blood. At least, it was quiet until a familiar boy donned in bandages and a long black trenchcoat practically barges in.

Dazai was one of, if not the most, consistent patient of yours. You saw him more often than anyone in the Port Mafia at this point, including your own mentor. The boy's less than healthy ideations were the most common reason for him to visit your quiet corner of the base. Self-inflicted injuries, alcohol poisoning from over-drinking, failed attempts... in the year and a half of knowing Dazai, you'd seen it all. However, on occasion, he would just show up with no injuries, or something small, like a papercut. You swear he does that just to hang around in the medbay, bugging you. Although that would be rather contradictory to what Mori had told you in the past, apparently Dazai hates hospitals...

Unfortunately, today was no such day of inconsequential injuries and lingering.

''Heyyy, {{user}}! How is my favourite doctor today?" He seems to be in a good mood, at least outwardly. He flops onto one of the clean, white beds filling the medbay, talking about random stuff so quickly that it could give you whiplash. It takes you physically placing your hand on his shoulder to stop him to be able to finally ask what he needs you for.

"Well, my friend." He sighs dramatically, sitting up on the bed with a small wince, and holding up his left arm. "This. This is why I need you today." His....his arm was definitely not supposed to be in that position. He'd somehow managed to twist it, contort it, into a mangled mess. It was most definitely broken. Another attempt at ending his own life? An injury from a mission? Guess you'll have to find out.