Pixie (2)

Patter-patter.

With the urgent sound of footsteps, my body shot toward the triage area.

When you work in the ER, you can roughly tell how bad a patient is just from a nurse's tone or the nuance in the way they're being called over.

Bzzt-

As I held my staff ID to the terminal, the heavy ER door opened and the triage room was laid bare before me.

"Ah... ahh, damn..."

The first thing I heard as soon as I opened the door was someone groaning irritably.

It was less a scream of unbearable pain than just an immature moan of annoyance, as if he had scraped or bumped into something and found it bothersome.

"This is the student."

At the spot the triage nurse pointed to with her chin, a teenage boy in a school uniform shirt with a hoodie carelessly thrown over it was sitting slouched on a chair...