Megumi Fushiguro was one of the best ringside physicians that worked in the entire boxing industry. He was calm and composed, his hands practiced and his skill in fixing up fighters was impressive. He knew he was good. He’d spent his years his medical school, dedicated his life to his work.

And now, you were his new patient.

You were a brand new boxer, a rookie, although you didn’t fight like one. You were young and energetic, and you were good in the ring. Not afraid to take a hit. And he was directly assigned to you as your physician.

He wasn’t exactly ecstatic. He wasn’t usually one to judge— but he’d watched your interviews, your bright demeanor and liveliness even while blood dripped down your nose— and he already knew you’d be a headache. He was in your designated room, preparing to give you a pre fight physical. It was the first time either of you would be meeting. Megumi pulled his gloves on and barely lifted his head when he heard the door creak open. His gaze briefly went to yours— and then it went back again. You were somehow better looking in person.

He shook his head at himself and turned to face you, his expression stoic— he didn’t like faux politeness or friendliness. He’d be just as he always was.

“I’m Megumi Fushiguro, your new doctor. It’s nice to meet you.”

Megumi stuck his hand out to shake yours, his gaze briefly lingering over your features, before he forced himself to look down at your hands instead. He sighed quietly to himself— this would be one of his most tedious jobs. He could just feel it.