Chapter Text
Story Dialogue Format
▶Text
Narrator’s Narration or Character’s Monologue
▶"Text"
"Character’s Dialogue and Words"
▶('Text')
('Character's Ordinary Thoughts')
▶«"Tyekst"»
«"Foreign Language Phonetic Reading"»
▶("Text")
("Foreign Language Translation")
▶"Text"
"TVs, Radios, Short Messages, Emails, Public Announcements"
▶["Text"]
["Telephone Conversation"]
▶[Text]
Character’s Point of View
School Days – Only Your Profile
スクールデイズ・あなたの横顔ばかり
Anata no Yokogao Bakari Volume 2
Intravenous of Changing Era
Arc 1
Early Nursing Career
Chapter 1
Footsteps from the Jieitai Medical Corps
Initial Indonesian Writing
August 25, 2023
Initial English Translation Writing
November 19, 2025
Start of Revision Date
December 18, 2025
[Narrated by Itou Moeko]
18 January 1987 / 10:00 / Takeyama Jieitai Camp, Yokosuka
Oohara-shi is a coastal city on the Miura Peninsula in Kanagawa Prefecture. The peninsula is also home to the cities of Yokosuka, Miura, Hayama, Zushi, and Kamakura. Oohara-shi is a "bedroom community" for commuters working in the Tokyo metropolis. Oohara-shi actually consists of several towns, including Sakakino-cho, Aoi-cho, Motehara-cho, Haramasu, Numayoshi, and Haramihama. These towns are connected by railway lines: the Wangan-sen (Coastal Line), which runs along the coast and serves the towns of Haramihama, Haramasu, and Numayoshi, and the Wangan-shin-sen (New Coastal Line), which goes inland and serves the towns of Haramasu, Motehara, Sakakino, and Aoi. These towns are one of the newer towns built after World War II, and the population is quite diverse. However, like the others, it doesn't have a particularly good history.
It all happened probably twenty or even thirty years ago, when a scandal stemmed from the Inou family. Because it occurred at a time when the internet and telephones were not as advanced as they are today, the scandal was merely a rumor whose truth could not be confirmed, and the rumor faded over time. At that time, the family was the wealthiest due to its wealth and the luxuries enjoyed by them, even though the Inou Family had no ties to the politics or military. Inou Jou was the head of this prominent aristocratic family along with his wife, Inou Yasoko. They were blessed with daughters named Moegi and Asagi, and were raised very well, not too spoiled or extravagant.
The scandal occurred when Jou had a relationship with a woman from the Sawagoe Family named Reina. The affair resulted in Reina becoming pregnant and giving birth to a boy named Tomaru. Initially, the incident was unknown to anyone except the perpetrator and Tomaru, but when Tomaru was attending Harami-chuu Middle School, he fell in love with Moegi. Unbeknownst to Tomaru, Moegi was actually his sister from the same father but still the relationship grew stronger. When Yasoko found out about the relationship, she became very angry because Moegi became lovers with Jou's son and his mistress. Jou finally admitted that Tomaru was his son and the Tomaru and Moegi couple were forced to separate but it was too late. When they separated, Moegi was already pregnant with her first daughter named Kagura. This was quite bad because Moegi gave birth to Kagura when she was still a junior high school student.
Despite being separated for years, Tomaru's greed and cruelty did not stop. There were reports that Tomaru had impregnated several women, even minors. Tomaru and Moegi finally met again and later had a son named Ayumu. But after giving birth to Ayumu, Tomaru ran away abroad, so Moegi was forced to raise Kagura and Ayumu alone. Tomaru's identity was kept secret by Moegi so Kagura and Ayumu did not know who their own father was.
Tomaru impregnated many women, including his own children. Tomaru eventually committed incest with his own daughter, Kagura. Kagura gave birth to her daughter, Hajime, when she was in fifth grade, and she was the eldest of their children. Of course, things didn't end there, because even though she was only eight years old and a second-year student, Tomaru committed incest with her own granddaughter, giving birth to Rio. As a result, Kagura was furious, and Tomaru was forced to leave. It's unknown how Tomaru managed to get away with all of this, but it seems like some inherited wealth was used to win the trial.
Why do I know this? Maybe because I'm close to Tomaru, but not by blood. I don't know how many women he's dated, how many wives he's had, or how many women he's slept with. My name is Itou Moeko (伊藤萌子), and I seem to be Tomaru-san's umpteenth wife. Some might ask why I marry a man with a notorious reputation, troubled past, and a terrible reputation. I marry this man because of my personal mission. Initially, I wanted to pursue a career as a doctor, but my low grades and achievements were not enough to make it. Finally, I entered nursing school when I was eighteen.
Now about myself. I was born to Itou Sanehiro and Toujinbara Sakurami on March 28, 1959, in Shirakawa-go, Gifu Prefecture. My father originally lived in Nagoya, but moved to Shirakawa-go, north of Nagoya, in the 1940s due to Japan's entry into World War II. Otousan, who was still ill at the time, was not drafted into the army. In Shirakawa-go, he met my mother, and they eventually married.
According to the Japanese Education Law enacted in 1947, a student whose birthday falls between April 2nd and April 1st of the following year is enrolled in the same grade. Fortunately, this is easy to remember, as I was born on March 28th of the following year, allowing me to attend elementary school in Shirakawa-go in 1965, when I was six. After six years of elementary school, I entered junior high school in Takayama in 1971, as there was no junior high school in Shirakawa-go at the time. At that time, movement to and from Shirakawa-go was extremely difficult, as there were no trains or expressways. National Highway 360 was too narrow for vehicles, so travel between Shirakawa-go and Takayama required National Highways 156 and 158 via Shokawa, taking about an hour and a half. I often stayed overnight at a friend's house in Takayama, as it was more convenient and easier than commuting between home and school.
That is why when I graduated in 1974, Otousan and Okaasan decided to move to Tokyo, but because land prices were already expensive, they finally decided to settle in Haramidai, a simple residential area at that time, but over time it became a residential area for the rich because the majority of the houses were landed houses.
My family finally moved to Haramidai in 1974 when I was in high school. Although I left many friends, acquaintances, and neighbors in Shirakawa-go and Takayama, everyone in Haramidai was quite friendly. Sometimes during the Obon season, my parents and I would travel to Shirakawa-go by Shinkansen from Shin-yokohama to Nagoya, then take an express train to Takayama and then take a bus to Shirakawa-go. However, this happy family I felt didn't last forever.
In 1977, a few months after graduating from high school, my parents died in a traffic accident. It was truly devastating because I was an only child with no siblings or relatives. Perhaps someone cared for me in Shirakawa-go, but at that time, it was a long way away, even by Shinkansen. Shirakawa-go was a remote village with no train service, so it took at least three hours to get from Nagoya to Takayama, and then another hour and a half by bus to Takayama. I was forced to live alone in my large but empty house in Haramidai. Of course, I couldn't mourn my parents forever.
After graduating from high school at the age of eighteen, I attended the Bouei Ika Daigakkou, or National Defense Medical Institute, a military college under the Japanese Ministry of Defense that trains its citizens to become medical doctors. I originally aspired to be a doctor, but my intelligence wasn't up to the task, so I studied as a nurse in the Jieitai (JSDF). I studied at the institution from 1977 to 1981, and after four years, nurses graduating from the institution were required to serve in the Jieitai (JSDF) for six years after graduation.
Due to the deteriorating security and public safety situation at the time, most high school graduates already had martial arts training and held black belts. I myself had Judo skills, as my otousan had practiced them while still alive. This was reinforced by the unpleasant news in Ohara itself. Around the 1970s, there were cases of many women engaging in illicit relationships with men, but the police did not thoroughly investigate these cases, despite receiving over ten reports a month.
My service at Jieitai lasted for six years, a time filled with valuable experiences. Along the way, I met many different people, including a woman in my year. Her name was Hosokawa Naoka (細川 直花), a nurse who was not only skilled but also passionate about her service. She could always make a difficult situation feel lighter with a smile. However, after a short time together, she was transferred to another region, and we were separated for quite some time.
That morning, the chilly January air felt fresh in Takeyama. Soft sunlight filtered through the morning mist, creating a peaceful atmosphere in the camp. As I walked through the barracks, I suddenly spotted a familiar figure. Her slender frame and agile movements reminded me of the days when we had worked side by side.
“Wait, are you Naoka-chan?” I asked, still skeptical, even as my heart raced. Her appearance had completely changed, and a new aura surrounded her.
“Moeko-chan! It’s you! Long time no see!” she replied, her smile as bright as the morning sun. She ran over to me and we immediately embraced, celebrating this sweet moment after so long apart.
After I'd finished my longing, I wanted to hear how she was doing. "So, Naoka-chan, how have you been? There's so much I want to know."
Naoka-chan sighed, a hint of tension showing on his face. "It's been quite stressful. I was transferred to Saitama to treat various patient conditions. The past few months have been very challenging, but I'm trying to make the best of it all."
I nodded, sensing her enthusiasm was still burning bright. "You always rise to the challenge, Naoka-chan. I admire that. Soon our mandatory time at Jieitai will be over, and we'll be continuing our careers as nurses in the hospital."
“You’re right,” he replied, a smile on his face radiating new hope. “I hope we can work together again. There are so many wonderful memories from when we were together.”
Suddenly, my attention was drawn to something sparkling on her finger. “Naoka-chan, is that a ring on your left hand?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.
Naoka-chan's smile grew brighter as she looked at the ring. "Oh, this? Yes, I just got married last spring. Now I'm officially part of the Hashimoto family."
I was so curious that I frowned. "Which Hashimoto family? There are so many people with the Hashimoto surname in Japan. Even the surname 'Itou' is very common."
Naoka-chan laughed softly. “My husband’s name is Takatomi. You may not have heard of him, but he’s a wonderful man. It’s about time a woman like me got married, isn’t it?”
Although my smile remained, a pang of envy prickled at my heart. "That's great for you, Naoka-chan... Meanwhile, I'm still trying to find a man who can be there for me and support me. How does it feel to be a wife? Is everything going according to your expectations?"
Her gaze was gentle and understanding. “To be honest, we cannot do the honeymoon due to our work… You’ll definitely find the right person, Moeko-chan. Remember, love often comes when you least expect it. Don’t give up.”
There was a moment of silence, and I could feel a deeper connection forming between us. "Thank you, Naoka-chan. I really appreciate your words," I said, harboring hope in my heart, hoping that we could continue to support each other, no matter what life's journey lay ahead.
I sighed, feeling a weight on my mind. “But something’s confusing me, Naoka-chan. Can you really get married while still on duty as a Jieitai Nurse?”
Naoka-chan nodded firmly, her long black hair flowing beautifully in the morning sunlight. “Actually, it’s permitted, Moeko-chan. However, the timeframe is very limited, and the number of people invited must be very small. There’s a rule that, to avoid disturbing other colleagues, the nurses and doctors of the Jieitai cannot invite fellow classmates who are still on duty for the first six years.”
I frowned, trying to process the information. “So, that’s why I couldn’t get an invitation to your wedding? It feels like we’re in a very tight spot, doesn’t it?”
Naoka-chan nodded seriously, her tone expressing deep understanding. “That’s right, Moeko-chan. World War II is long over, and the Japanese army no longer exists. Now, we only have the Japan Self-Defense Forces, or Jieitai, which were established after the enactment of Article 9 of the Japanese Constitution. This article prohibits the use of force to settle international disputes.”
“So, in a situation like this, getting married feels more like acting in a war situation without weapons,” I replied, trying to lighten the mood with humor, despite the anxiety that was clouding my heart.
Naoka's smile returned. "It does feel that way, doesn't it? But life is full of challenges. We have to live them well. And who knows, maybe by getting married, we can find happiness amidst all these limitations?"
I nodded, looking a little calmer. “You’re right. I guess I need to prepare myself, too. As a mother-to-be, I need to be resilient and not let my guard down, even if we’re going out as Jieitai Nurses.”
We continued our conversation, discussing our various experiences during our time at Jieitai. Longing and nostalgia filled our hearts as we recalled those difficult but learning moments.
“By the way, have you thought about the future, Naoka-chan? Do you have any plans for after marriage?” I asked, curious.
Naoka-chan glanced up at the clear sky before answering. “I want to pursue a career as a nurse. My husband supports me, and that's one of the reasons I feel lucky to have him by my side.”
Understandably, we share similar dreams. "I also want to continue contributing to patients in need. I think once we complete this commitment, we'll be freer to do what we truly want."
In May 1987, we finally completed our assignment at Jieitai. Our superiors gave us the choice of staying with Jieitai or transitioning to regular nurse positions at the hospital. With a firm decision, Naoka-chan and I agreed to become regular nurses so we could reach more patients who needed our care.
“On one hand, they must be sad to see us go,” Naoka-chan said nostalgically, “but on the other hand, they also recommended that we serve at Haramidai Hospital, which happens to be close to our home!”
Happiness overflowed within us. “This is wonderful! We'll be together again, Naoka-chan. We can discuss all the stories and challenges ahead, and support each other.”
Naoka-chan smiled broadly, and I felt a new spirit ignite within us. We knew the journey ahead wouldn't be easy, but with each other's support, we were ready to face whatever lay ahead.
November 16, 1987 / 08:00 / Haramidai Hospital 3rd Floor — OBYGN Ward Nurses' Station
The fall of 1987 enveloped Kanagawa Prefecture in a cool, melancholic air. At Haramidai Hospital, a sturdy concrete building with cream tiles standing since the Showa 50s era, the wind carried the scent of yellowing ginkgo leaves and smoke from the hospital's waste incinerator chimney. From the third-floor corridor, a small garden in the front yard was visible where some patient families walked slowly, their coat collars pressed tight against the wind. The golden morning sunlight pierced through the large aluminum-framed windows with their dull color, reflecting off the slippery light green linoleum floor with its mokkori scent—characteristic floor wax mixed with antiseptic smell. The transistor radio at the nurses' station played a song, faintly competing with the hospital's routine pulses like the creak of iron gurney wheels, the quick steps of white geta shoes from the nurses, and the humming sound of the facsimile machine from the administration office.
That morning marked a new beginning and the real test for both of us. After years of serving as nurses in the Jieitai, we secured positions as nurses at Haramidai Hospital, conveniently near our homes. Being placed in the Obstetrics and Gynecology division—where life begins and mothers' lives are at stake—was no small task. This was a high-stress division, yet full of meaning.
As we entered the meeting room, the strong smell of alcohol and osouji solution assaulted us. Several senior nurses were already gathered, their white uniforms spotless, hair tied tightly under triangular nurse caps. Some held ceramic cups with the hospital logo, sipping warm hojicha tea. Their gazes, a mix of curiosity and the cold senior-to-junior judgment, swept over us from head to toe. Those eyes seemed to ask if we could keep up with their rhythm.
"Ohayou gozaimasu, minasan…"
That voice, low yet cutting through the bustle, made the room instantly silent. A doctor in a perfectly white lab coat stepped forward. His hair was neatly combed, showing meticulousness. His thick glasses emphasized the sharpness of his eyes, which seemed able to peel away nervousness and doubt in anyone he looked at. He would later become the axis and enigma of our daily lives.
"Starting today…," the doctor continued, "…we have two young staff members who will strengthen our department. Let's welcome them as they work to help our patients."
My heart pounded hard, his voice filling my ears. With steps I hoped looked confident, I stepped forward. "Hajimemashite… My name is Itou Moeko. Starting today, I will serve as a nurse in the Obstetrics and Gynecology division. I am still very green and have many shortcomings, but I will do my best. Douzo yoroshiku onegaishimasu!" My voice trembled slightly at the end. I bowed deeply, as trained repeatedly, respecting the hierarchy that is the lifeblood of Japanese institutions.
Beside me, Naoka-chan followed. Her style was more fluid, her smile—as always—able to melt the atmosphere. "Hajimemashite… My name is Hashimoto Naoka. I am very excited to learn and contribute in this vibrant department. Yoroshiku onegaishimasu!" Naoka-chan bowed, but her eyes sparkled with challenge.
The doctor nodded briefly, then introduced himself. "My name is Fukikoshi Tomaru. One of the responsible doctors here." His name was written on the name tag in his pocket with unusual kanji with his family name meaning 'swamp crossing' (吹越) and his given name meaning 'stop' (止). A paradoxical and unusual name.
Then, his tone shifted slightly—not softer, but more formal—as he turned. "Takatsukasa-kun, I entrust these two kouhai to you."
Like a shadow come to life, Head Nurse Takatsukasa Arisu stepped forward. The 40-year-old woman was the personification of meticulousness. Every fold of her uniform was perfect, measuring tape and koban clips neatly tucked in her pocket. Her hair was impeccable, not a single strand loose. Her gaze, like an experienced sensei, swept over us with professional coldness.
"Kashikomarimashita, Fukikoshi-sensei…," she replied, her voice flat and efficient. "…I will ensure they understand our protocols and work ethic here." Her brief glance at me felt like an X-ray, measuring mental resilience, neatness, and determination. Reflexively, I straightened my posture, shoulders back, chin slightly raised.
('I must show that Naoka-chan and I are worthy of this job. All our sacrifices won't be in vain after everything we've done.')
The brief introduction ended, and we followed Takatsukasa-fuchou. We heard a symphony of human life and effort: stifled cries of pain, midwives' encouragements, "Gambatte! Mou sukoshi!", the first broken and wondrous cries of babies, and the steady beeps of heart monitors. The smell of amniotic fluid, blood, and disinfectant blended into an unforgettable aroma—the scent of our department.
"How about it, Moeko-chan?" Naoka-chan whispered to me, her eyes shining as she absorbed everything. "This is so much more… real than in textbooks, huh?"
"You're right, Naoka-chan…," I murmured. "I'm nervous myself. But… this is what I've always wanted." My hand gripped the manual and floor map given by Takatsukasa-fuchou tightly.
('Fukikoshi-sensei… He's like an iceberg. What we see is only his sturdy, cold tip. How deep is the hidden part? And what does he hold beneath the surface?')
That thought troubled me. As new nurses, judging superiors was inappropriate. But my instinct, the instinct to understand people to care for them well, whispered that there was another layer to that man.
I twirled the cup in my hand. "Sensei is a true professional. Here, that's probably what's most needed. As long as we perform our duties perfectly, we'll be fine." My words sounded like I was trying to convince myself.
Naoka-chan nodded, her eyes looking out the window where the autumn sky stretched clear. "You're right… I'll work hard! I want to become a nurse who can be trusted to handle deliveries on my own someday!"
That first day felt like running a marathon in new shoes—exhausting, feet aching, yet heart pounding with purpose. As the afternoon sun began to yellow, I stood at the corridor window. Our journey had just begun. In this world of blood, tears, laughter, and first cries, under the watch of the iceberg named Fukikoshi Tomaru, we would learn not only about the miracle of birth, but also about resilience, secrets, and a woman's dignity—and perhaps, the secrets hidden behind an unreadable doctor's glasses. The first step on that gleaming linoleum had been taken. And the corridor ahead looked long, winding, filled with shadows and lights dancing together.
November 16, 1987 / 09:30 / Haramidai Hospital Floor 3 — Obstetrics and Gynecology Nurses' Station
The soft morning sunlight slipped through the frosted glass windows of the third-floor break room. The curtains were half-open, enough to light the simple room without glaring. A long wooden table occupied the center, surrounded by aging but well-maintained metal chairs. In the corner, an electric kettle hummed softly, accompanying the aroma of freshly brewed green tea.
I sat next to Naoka-chan, our nurse uniforms still feeling stiff from being new. Though the room's atmosphere was warm and calm, my mind hadn't fully let go of the impressions I'd received since morning.
I stared at her tea cup for a moment before speaking. "Naoka-chan…" I said hesitantly, trying to keep my voice low. "Do you feel like Takatsukasa-fuchou is… a bit unusual?"
Naoka-chan stopped stirring her tea. She turned to me with slightly furrowed brows. "Unusual? What do you mean, Moeko-chan?"
I let out a small sigh, then awkwardly scratched the side of my head. "I don't know… maybe it's just my feeling. But think about it—her name is written entirely in hiragana, 'ありす'. Yet the pronunciation clearly sounds like a foreign name. Isn't that pretty rare, especially for someone working in a hospital environment like this?"
Naoka-chan was silent for a moment, as if just realizing it. "Now that you mention it… yeah, it's kind of unique."
Before our conversation could continue, a firm yet calm voice sounded from behind.
"Unique, huh?"
I nearly dropped my cup. "Ah—!" I jolted and stood up immediately. "T-Takatsukasa-fuchou!"
Our head nurse, Takatsukasa Arisu, stood in the break room doorway. Her arms were casually folded, and a thin smile appeared on her face—hard to read, between amusement and understanding. Her presence aura remained strong, though now less formal without the full staff around.
A few seconds later, she chuckled lightly. "Hahahaha… relax. I'm not angry."
The tension in my shoulders slowly eased.
"You must have been talking about my name, right?" she continued as she stepped in and took a cup from the rack. Her movements were calm, reflecting someone long accustomed to the hospital rhythm.
Naoka-chan and I exchanged glances, then nodded slightly.
"It's fine," she said again, her tone much warmer. "You're not wrong. My name does sound foreign."
She poured hot water into her cup, then continued, "My parents were big fans of Alice in Wonderland. They read the Japanese translation over and over. That's why they named me 'Arisu'."
I listened attentively.
"Even…," she added with a small smile, "…I have a daughter. Her name is 'Rideru'. She's about six now. Her name is also inspired by the same story."
Hearing that, the awkwardness in my chest turned into genuine interest. "I see…," I murmured. "That's… really interesting, Arisu-fuchou."
She turned to me, then chuckled again. "Oh, about that—in a break room like this, you don't need to be so formal. No need to keep calling me 'Takatsukasa'."
She looked at us both with softer eyes. "Just call me Arisu. We all work in the same place. Sooner or later, we'll depend on each other."
Naoka-chan smiled broadly, clearly more relaxed. "Got it, Arisu-fuchou. We'll remember."
I nodded too, this time with a small smile. Behind her strictness, Arisu-fuchou turned out to have a much more human side than I'd imagined.
In that simple break room, amid warm tea cups and autumn sunlight, the distance between superior and subordinate felt a little narrower. And for me, it was the beginning of new understanding—that at Haramidai Hospital, it wasn't just skills being tested, but also human relationships.
Arisu-fuchou then immediately asked us about a vital topic for nurses. Her gentle eyes looked at us both attentively. "Well, Moeko-chan and Naoka-chan… do you understand the patient procedures in our division?"
We two, former Jieitai nurses, were still confused about procedures for pregnant patients in this division. We also didn't know the layout of our operational rooms, so with innocent faces, we wanted to know the procedures. "Actually, we don't know at all yet, Arisu-fuchou," I said on our behalf. "We're still new here. Please explain the procedures for pregnant patients, from the locations of rooms on which floors, to how to transport the mother to the operating room during delivery, and what to do after the baby is born."
Arisu-fuchou smiled kindly, like a patient mother explaining to her children. Arisu-fuchou pulled a small wooden chair from the corner of this comfortable air-conditioned nurses' break room—with its morning coffee aroma and faint antiseptic scent. Morning sunlight filtered through the large windows, illuminating the small whiteboard on the wall. There was already a rough sketch of the Haramidai Hospital Floor 3 map. Arisu-fuchou picked up a blue marker and began drawing firm lines while explaining in a calm, professional voice, like an experienced teacher.
"Alright, Moeko-chan and Naoka-chan, let's start from the basics so it's easy to remember. The Obstetrics and Gynecology division at Haramidai Hospital is entirely on this floor, so you're already in its heart now. Imagine this floor like a small village for mothers and babies, divided into zones to make it easy to understand."
Arisu-fuchou then pointed to a zone on the map. "The place where nurses and doctors meet is the Nurses' Station and Doctors' Room, where we are right now. This is the headquarters where doctors, nurses, and patients coordinate and communicate. Every morning, staff check the schedule for routine check-ups or, in medical terms, antenatal care to maintain the mother's health during pregnancy, delivery, and postpartum. There's also the ultrasound schedule to monitor fetal development via sound waves, and consultations with patients on gynecological issues. Outpatient pregnant patients come to the Gynecology Clinic on this floor at the east end of the corridor, open from 08:00 to 12:00. Usually, people coming to the Gynecology Clinic just have brief check-ups before going home."
Arisu-fuchou continued her explanation by drawing an arrow to the left. "To the left of the nurses' station, there are two large blocks dedicated to Inpatient Pregnant Mothers. Zone Block A is for patients with normal and stable pregnancies, specifically second to third trimester, from the fourth month until birth, when the fetus is already large and strong in the womb. Zone Block B is for high-risk pregnancies, like preeclampsia or dangerous high blood pressure during pregnancy, gestational diabetes, or multiple births like twins or more. Each block in those zones has 20 patient rooms. Usually, mothers admitted to these zones come from the Emergency Department (ED) on the ground floor or have been referred by obstetricians from other hospitals. Our tasks here are to monitor vital signs like pulse, blood pressure, and temperature every four hours. Nutritional IVs must be given if needed, and nurses and doctors must be on standby if a patient is about to give birth."
Arisu-fuchou then pointed to a zone on the map to the right of the nurses' station. "The area to the right of the nurses' station is the Women's Gynecology Inpatient Zone for non-pregnancy cases, like ovarian cysts, endometriosis (uterine inflammation disease), or hysterectomy (uterus removal). This isn't pure obstetrics, but we still need to memorize it because it will come up often while working here."
Arisu-fuchou then drew a large square behind Zone Block A. "If you look closely, behind Block A is the Delivery Operating Room—our division's operational heart. There are four operating rooms equipped with baby warmers, fetal heart rate monitors (CTG), and epidural anesthesia devices (for pain relief during delivery). If a mother is about to give birth, nurses transport her via wheelchair or gurney from inpatient. The nurse handling the patient about to deliver calls the obstetrician for cervical dilation check with a minimum of 4 cm for the active phase, then proceeds to stabilize the mother's position for delivery."
Arisu-fuchou had explained a lot, but clearly and well. Now she took a breath to continue explaining to us both. "After you know the layout of our division, I'll explain the procedures when a patient is about to give birth. For scheduled deliveries, check the patient's history like 'gravida' or how many times the patient has been pregnant before and 'para' or how many times the patient has given birth. Measure vital signs accurately like blood pressure, pulse, temperature, urine test for protein to detect preeclampsia signs, and quick ultrasound if needed."
"If the birth is normal or called 'vaginal delivery', the mother's position must be semi-sitting or 'semi-Fowler' position. Monitor with CTG or 'cardiotocography' equipment to continuously track fetal heart rate and uterine contractions while the baby is in the womb. The obstetrician then makes a small incision in the birth area or 'episiotomy' if needed so the baby can come out smoothly. The umbilical cord is cut one to three minutes after the baby is born, then the pediatrician or neonatologist assesses the Apgar score to analyze the newborn's condition like skin color, breathing, pulse—all done at the first and fifth minutes after birth."
"If the baby is delivered via cesarean section or C-Section, the patient is moved to the Obstetrics Operating Room at the west end of the corridor. C-Section procedure is done with spinal anesthesia, a curved incision on the lower abdomen or Pfannenstiel incision, followed by extracting the baby and placenta, ending with layered suturing. C-Section surgery usually takes 45 to 60 minutes."
"After the mother gives birth to the baby, both mother and baby are moved to the Postpartum Ward in Block C behind the Delivery Operating Room. Block C has a capacity of 20 beds and is dedicated to mothers who have given birth, serving as a recovery room for postpartum mothers. In this block, patients are closely monitored, especially postpartum bleeding or 'lochia'. Here, uterine involution is monitored by checking the top of the uterus or fundus every fifteen minutes in the first hour, then every four hours, plus vital sign checks. Skin-to-skin contact between mother and baby is encouraged to aid breastfeeding."
"By rule, healthy newborns can rest in the same room as their mothers, but if the baby is premature or has other issues, it must be checked in the Nursery or Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) in Block D. This block is next to Block C and is a sterile area to protect mother and baby health."
"There are other routine activities like checking results of normal deliveries after previous C-Section or VBAC (Vaginal Birth After Cesarean), giving contraception advice, discharging patients after 24 to 48 hours for normal births, but C-Section patients can go home after 72 hours post-surgery—unless there are complications like infection or severe postpartum hemorrhage. The medical term for it is postpartum hemorrhage."
"There is mandatory patient documentation by filling out Form L1 for maternal and child birth reports, updating electronic medical records, and coordinating with local midwives for follow-up. If there's an issue like sudden placental abruption or seizures from preeclampsia, press the obstetrics blue code via intercom so the patient can be evacuated to the Operating Room in under ten minutes."
Arisu-fuchou's explanation was truly comprehensive yet understandable. She asked us both. "How's my explanation so far, Moeko-chan and Naoka-chan? Is anything unclear or do you have other questions?"
Arisu-fuchou had explained a lot, but one thing lingered in my mind that hadn't been covered, so I raised my hand hesitantly but still eager to confirm. "Arisu-fuchou, there's actually something not explained yet. If there's an unscheduled patient like an emergency pregnant mother arriving by ambulance, what steps should be taken in that scenario?"
Arisu-fuchou smiled broadly at my question. She seemed proud of my attention to detail. Arisu-fuchou then added a red emergency arrow to the map sketch. "That's a great question, Moeko-chan. Of course, scenarios like this happen often here, so we must always be prepared for emergencies as you mentioned. In such cases, the priority for nurses and doctors is to stabilize the mother and fetus in the 'golden hour' or first sixty minutes for safe delivery."
"For procedures with pregnant patients arriving by ambulance, patient vehicle, or walk-ins about to deliver, the patient goes directly to the Emergency Department on the ground floor, so not to this floor at all until after delivery in the ED Operating Room. This scenario is too risky time-wise and health-wise if forced to this floor, so nurses and doctors from this division go directly to the ED Operating Room. In the ED, 'Triage ABCDE' is performed which are the Airway, Breathing, Circulation, Disability, Exposure."
"A red code will sound for severe bleeding (PPH/abruption), eclampsia, or fetal distress (abnormal CTG). This emergency code rings via room intercom or nurse/doctor pagers, so staff can act immediately. There's a special route connecting this division to the ED that works even during power outages, and with this route, the team can reach ED in under two minutes with full equipment. Everything moves fast, and during surgery, husbands or family are barred from the operating room while the red light is on."
"Pay close attention, both of you, because this is important too…" Arisu-fuchou said while looking at us. "…If in the ED operating room we face imminent premature labor, meaning early delivery can't be stopped anymore. Usually the dilation is already large—around eight centimeters—or worse, the umbilical cord comes out before the baby."
Arisu-fuchou paused briefly, ensuring we were listening. "If so, don't wait. Immediately call the obstetrician, ensure someone handles newborns, and contact the anesthesiologist. Prepare for delivery ASAP, or emergency C-section if safest."
"The newborn goes straight to neonatology for checks. The mother, if unstable, to ICU." Her tone hardened slightly. "Remember. We drill scenarios like this every Thursday at 2 PM, so when the real thing hits, your hands won't shake."
"Clear on everything? This is vital, because we hold mothers' and babies' lives at Haramidai."
Naoka-chan and I exchanged glances, eyes shining. This first lesson felt like a treasure map—ready for us to explore on third floor.
To Be Continued
Word Count = 5.875 Words
List of Characters' Names
▶Sawagoe Tomaru / 沢越 止 / Male / A / DNA 100% / June 6, 1949
A brown-haired boy born from Jou and Reina's affair, he is the father or ancestor of most of the protagonists and other characters. In the game released by 0verflow, he effectively becomes the overarching patriarch. He fathers Itou Makoto and Itou Itaru, and both children despise Tomaru for his cruelty and take Tomaru from the custody of Itou Moeko, Makoto and Itaru's mother.
He slept with many women, married mothers, sisters, children, grandchildren and so on, and produced many illegitimate offspring as a result of his actions, to the point that some of the people who were descendants of Tomaru did not realize that there was an incestuous relationship between siblings because the women who had relationships with Tomaru and his descendants used their mother's surname, not the surname of the husband they married.
Some of Tomaru's children, such as Shun, Makoto, and Itaru, hate him, and Kei, his son, suffers from PTSD due to Tomaru's actions. Only his son, Ayumu, is very loyal to Tomaru. Tomaru is a successful doctor and businessman, but also runs illegal businesses in red-light areas such as red-light districts and cabarets. He is also said to be wasteful and greedy in spending his own savings and owns a super luxury yacht, resulting in a lot of debt that burdens the Radish Restaurant.
Sawagoe Family Name (沢越) literally means “Swamp Crossing” while the given name Tomaru (止) uses the kanji for “stop”. Tomaru’s birthday is not officially given by 0verflow, but it is listed as July 6, 1949, which is the same birthday as Kibutsuji Muzan, the antagonist of Kimetsu no Yaiba. His fake name is Fukikoshi (吹越) comes from Fukikoshi Genda, a marriage con artist who was a victim in the manga Detective Conan File 1032-1034.
▶Itou Moeko / 伊藤 萌子 / Female / O / March 28, 1959
A woman of ordinary build with long black hair, born in 1961 in Shirakawa-gou, Gifu Prefecture, who later moved to Haramihama. A traffic accident that killed both of her parents after graduating from nursing school left Moeko heartbroken. She eventually worked at a hospital where the director was Sawagoe Tomaru, who later became her husband, and they were blessed with two children, Makoto and Itaru.
Due to her busy schedule at the hospital, Moeko rarely came home to communicate with her child. Her birth surname was Itou (伊藤) which means "the aforementioned wisteria flower" which comes from Prime Minister Itou Hirobumi, who was famously a female player while her given name was Moeko (萌子) which means "sprout child." Since there is no official birth date from the Overflow website, the author has assigned March 28th as the birth date, which comes from singer Itou Kanako, who sang the song "Kanashimi no Mukou e" in School Days.
▶Takatsukasa Arisu / 鷹司 ありす / Female / X / May 4, 1947
The only daughter of the Takatsukasa family, who work in the farming industry near Snow Radish, and a distant sister of Hazama Hatsuka. Because of her close relationship with Snow Radish, she is close friends with Moegi and her distant sister, Hatsuka. Her relationship with Snow Radish makes her one of the women associated with Tomaru.
After leaving Snow Radish, Arisu pursued her nursing studies and eventually became the Head Nurse at Haramidai Hospital in the Department of Obstetrics and Gynecology. Arisu's name (ありす) is the Japanese pronunciation of Alice which is named after Alice Lidell, who was the inspiration for the bookAlice's Adventures in Wonderland. The family Name Takatsukasa (鷹司) comes from the Takatsukasa clan, an aristocratic family that branches off from the Fujiwara clan. Her birth date is taken directly from Alice Pleasance Hargreaves, who was born on May 4th.
▶Hashimoto Naoka / 橋本 直花 / Female / X / August 8, 1960
This woman is a nurse who entered the Obstetrics and Gynecology Department of Haramidai Hospital together with Moeko. She later gave birth to her first daughter, Oruha, in the leap year of 1986. Her family name before marriage was Hosokawa (細川) which comes from Prime Minister Hosokawa Morihiro which means 'narrow river', while the name Naoka (直花) is written with the kanji for ‘improvement, honesty, continuity’ and ‘flower’. His birth date is obtained by the number of strokes of the kanji NAO (8) and KA (8).