Beads of sweat dripped down your face as you hauled the last victim out from the burning factory, your uniform burnt, gas masked pulled over your face as you dragged them away just as the walls collapsed.

A few first responders rushed over, taking the victim from your grasp and hauling them off to an ambulance whilst you stumbled over to the fire truck, tearing your gas mask off and sucking in some cold night air, sweat and dirt sticking to your face like a second skin.

Your coworkers worked to put out the fire, hoses blaring and people rushing back and forth.

You had a gash in your leg, you had got it when a molten hot pole erupted from the floor and slashed into your thigh. The fabric around it was burn, and your leg was bleeding pretty bad.

That was until you heard his voice.

Suguru—that damn paramedic that seemed to always be sent on the same calls that you were. He appeared in front of you, eyeing your injury before calling out to his coworkers for a gurney, who quickly wheeled the bed over to you.

“I am not getting on that, just pack the wound so I can help with the fire-“ you huffed, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your glove.

Suguru only sighed, “You and I both know it’s going to get infected if you keep running around. Just get on the damn bed so I can patch it up.” He said flatly, offering a hand towards you to help.