Chapter Six Emergency Department #2
Renji checked the pulse at his neck. Still rapid. Still present.
"You lied to her," he said.
Haruki's eyes opened.
"So did you."
"I did not."
"You let her believe I'll survive."
"I intend for you to."
"That's not certainty."
"No."
Haruki studied him.
"You're very strange."
"So I have been told."
"Married?"
Renji paused. Akiko looked towards the ceiling. Aoi became fascinated by the transfusion line.
"No."
"Partner?"
"No."
"Too busy?"
"Mr Ishida."
"Haruki."
"You are haemorrhaging."
"And?"
"This is not an appropriate time for a personal conversation."
"That wasn't another no."
Renji stared at him. Haruki smiled faintly. The lift doors opened. The surgical team was waiting.
The knife had cut through the lower edge of Haruki's liver. It had also perforated the diaphragm and nicked an intercostal artery before changing direction, likely when Haruki moved or fought back. The injury was serious. It was not unsurvivable.
Renji controlled the arterial bleed first. The liver required packing and repair, but the damage remained localised — no bowel injury, no damage to the kidney, no major vascular involvement.
Haruki had been lucky. Renji disliked the word.
Luck suggested survival arrived without effort.
Haruki had survived because he had remained on his feet long enough to get others out.
Because someone had packed the wound. Because the ambulance team had moved quickly.
Because the hospital had been prepared for the mass casualty alert.
Survival was rarely one moment. It was a chain of people refusing to fail one another.
"How does he know your name?" Akiko asked.
Renji did not look up from the operative field.
"He heard it."
"He reacted before you repeated it."
"He was confused."
"Mm."
"What?"
"Nothing."
"Akiko."
"He mentioned a white lotus."
The surgical instruments seemed colder in Renji's hands.
"Patients say many things under stress."
"Yes."
"You think otherwise."
"I think you heard it."
"I was standing beside him."
"You know what I mean."
Renji placed another suture. The monitor remained stable.
"He lost a significant amount of blood."
"That is becoming your answer to everything."
"It is medically relevant."
"So is the fact that a mass casualty incident came from the same tunnels Kael warned you about."
Renji's gaze lifted briefly. The other members of the surgical team remained focused on their work. Their conversation had been quiet. Still, Akiko should have known better than to say the name openly. Her expression acknowledged the mistake.
Renji returned to the wound.
"We finish this first."
"Of course."
"Then we speak to the survivors."
"Assuming the Accord doesn't reach them before we do."
"They will follow hospital protocol."
Akiko gave him a look.
"You believe that?"
"Yes."
"You've known Kael too long to be that optimistic."
"I did not say they would like it."
That earned a brief smile. They worked in silence. Renji repaired the diaphragm and placed a drain. The liver bleeding slowed. Haruki's temperature began to rise, his coagulation improved and the amount of blood required decreased.
By the time Renji closed, the sky beyond the theatre windows had begun to lighten. Another night had become morning without his permission.
"Intensive care?" the anaesthetist asked.
"Yes. Keep him ventilated for now."
"Sedation plan?"
"Lighten once he is stable. I want a neurological assessment given the head injury."
Akiko removed her gloves.
"You should sleep."
Renji looked at the clock.
"You said that yesterday."
"It remains true."
"There are other tunnel casualties."
"The other teams have them."
"I need to review them."
"You need to sit down before your body remembers gravity."
Renji stepped away from the operating table.
"I am fine."
Akiko looked at the blood on his scrubs.
"Some of that is yours."
He followed her gaze. A thin line of red crossed his forearm where a damaged instrument packet had cut through his glove during the operation. He had not felt it.
"It is superficial."
"You didn't notice."
"I was occupied."
"You are always occupied."
Renji removed the glove and wrapped gauze around the small cut.
"Problem solved."
Akiko watched him.
"One day, someone will say that to you, and you're going to realise how irritating it is."
"I doubt it."
"I know."
She left to update the intensive care team.
Renji looked back at Haruki. Without the constant movement of the trauma bay, without the blood and banter, he seemed younger.
Not young. But younger than the reputation that had arrived with him.
The lines around his eyes suggested he smiled often. Or pretended to.
Renji had recognised loneliness in patients for centuries. It had many forms. Haruki's wore expensive clothing, carried responsibility and made jokes while bleeding to death.
Renji pulled the blanket higher over his chest. A meaningless gesture. A nurse could have done it. He did not examine why he had.
Haruki woke in intensive care eight hours later. Renji was reviewing the latest blood results at the foot of the bed when the monitor changed — not enough to trigger an alarm, enough to tell him awareness was returning.
Haruki's brow tightened. His fingers moved against the sheet. Renji stepped closer.
"Mr Ishida."
Haruki opened his eyes. The sedation still clouded them, but recognition came quickly. His gaze moved over Renji's face.
"You again."
Renji checked his pupils.
"Follow the light."
Haruki did.
"Can you tell me your name?"
"Haruki Ishida."
"Where are you?"
"Hospital."
"Which one?"
"The one where doctors destroy innocent jackets."
"Good. Your memory is intact."
Haruki looked down at himself. Hospital gown. Dressings. Chest drain.
"Did you undress me while I was unconscious?"
"The surgical team did."
"And I missed it."
Renji glanced at the monitor.
"Your heart rate is rising."
"You're standing very close."
Renji stepped back. The heart rate did not change. Haruki looked disappointed.
"You underwent surgery to repair damage to your liver and diaphragm. We also controlled bleeding from an artery between the ribs."
"Successful?"
"You are awake."
"That isn't always the same thing."
"No. It was successful."
Haruki closed his eyes briefly. Relief showed in the release of his jaw.
"The others?"
"Professor Takeda is stable. Professor Minamoto has a fractured wrist and several minor injuries. Jun remains in surgery for damage to his leg."
"Will he lose it?"
"Possibly."
Haruki went still.
"But he is alive?"
"Yes."
"And the others?"
Renji hesitated. Haruki opened his eyes.
"How many?"
"Several were dead before reaching us."
"Names."
"I do not have a complete confirmed list."
"Then get it."
The command emerged suddenly. Not loud. Sharp enough to reveal the man beneath the patient. Renji did not react.
"When the police and hospital liaison have confirmed identities, someone will speak to you."
"I need to know now."
"You need to recover."
"I am responsible for them."
"You cannot help them from this bed."
Haruki's expression hardened.
"You don't understand."
"I understand that you underwent emergency surgery eight hours ago."
"Those people were there because I asked them to come."
Renji looked at him. There it was. Not authority. Guilt. Raw and immediate.
"You did not stab them," Renji said.
"I brought them underground."
"You also brought some of them out."
"Not enough."
"It never feels like enough."
Haruki stared at him. Renji had said more than he intended. He adjusted the intravenous line.
"You should rest."
"That your answer to everything?"
"Only when the patient requires it."
Haruki watched him in silence. The flirtation had disappeared. Without it, his face seemed tired in a way surgery could not explain.
"You treat everyone like this?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Like I'm nobody."
Renji considered the wording.
"I treat you like a patient."
"Most people hear Ishida before Haruki."
"Names are relevant for identification."
Haruki laughed once. Pain punished him immediately. He pressed a hand against his side. Renji moved closer.
"Do not laugh."
"You say funny things."
"I have said nothing humorous."
"That's why."
Renji checked the dressing. No fresh bleeding. Haruki's hand settled near his. Not touching. Close.
"You really don't care who I am," Haruki said.
"I care that you survive."
"That isn't the same."
"No."
Haruki looked at him for a long moment. Then the crooked smile returned. Smaller now. Realer.
"I'll be seeing you again, Doctor."
Renji straightened.
"Hopefully not."
Haruki's smile widened. Renji left the room before the monitor could announce another increase in heart rate.