CHAPTER 19: The Bigger Picture
Several weeks had slipped by. Haruki, now ensnared in the intricacies of his new position, found himself submerged in the bustling life of the hospital more than ever. Whether it was conducting surgeries, caring for a constant influx of patients, diligently attending meetings, educating staff, or managing administrative tasks alongside Director Mari, his plate was constantly overflowing. Yet, somewhat ironically, he reveled in it.
Uemura Saki, a highly esteemed medical shinobi within Konoha's Medical Corps, stood confidently at the heart of the assembly. Haruki and Mari, their gazes focused and demeanor radiating calm professionalism, sat side by side, watching her intently. As the incumbent Chief of Konoha's Medical Department and Director of Konoha's Hospital, their attendance accentuated the gravity of the gathering.
"The case I present to you today involves a 15-year-old Genin," Saki began, her voice rippling across the solemn assembly hall. "His initial symptoms were akin to a typical fever — elevated temperature, lethargy, and mild headaches. As such, the preliminary diagnosis was a common flu, and we prescribed ample rest and hydration, assuming that the patient's youth and rigorous ninja training would expedite his recovery."
A detailed chart of the Genin's vital signs and medical records projected from a scroll, casting a muted glow on the wall behind her. She gestured towards the data, "However, his fever persisted abnormally, extending over five days. This necessitated his readmission to the hospital."
A hush fell over the room, the medical shinobi leaning forward, their anticipation hanging palpably in the air. This was the essence of an M meeting — learning from the challenges of diagnosis, anomalous cases, and unforeseen outcomes.
"Upon his return, we initiated a comprehensive set of tests, including a chakra scan to identify potential anomalies. Preliminary results indicated a minor disruption in his chakra system, apparently localized around the solar plexus."
A new visual splashed across the wall, mapping out the chakra system with a conspicuous luminous spot indicating the alleged anomaly.
"Initially, we speculated it to be a case of chakra exhaustion or imbalance, quite common in young ninjas prone to overexerting during training. However, the persistent fever suggested a more complex issue."
After a measured pause, she continued, "We then deployed a more specialized scan, honing in on the chakra network around the solar plexus. What we discovered was a subtle, intermittent flicker of rogue chakra. This minute irregularity was enough to disturb the normal flow and functionality of his body."
Her next slide zoomed into the chakra network around the solar plexus. "We had never witnessed anything of this nature before - a malignant Chakra Infarction, an extraordinarily rare condition characterized by a blockage in the chakra pathway, leading to 'dead zones' in the chakra network. In his case, it was impeding the normal functioning of his immune system, causing persistent fever and fatigue."
A heavy silence filled the room as the gathered medics absorbed this revelation. In a world dominated by physical injuries, the diagnosis of such a hidden and insidious condition served as a stark reminder of the complexities they were up against.
Saki pressed on, detailing the nuances of the treatment, which involved precise chakra control to eliminate the blockage and reestablish the disrupted chakra flow. She concluded with an update on the patient's recovery and the preventive measures taken to avert recurrence. As her presentation came to a close, hushed whispers pervaded the room, the medics launching into discussions on the ramifications of the case.
Meanwhile, seated next to Haruki was Iwai Mari, the venerable Director of Konoha's Hospital. She was barely able to contain her exhilaration. Her eyes shimmered with admiration as she whispered, "Haruki, you and your pretty little brain," her voice brimming with enthusiasm. The room pulsed with energy as the inaugural Morbidity & Mortality Conference, a concept Haruki had appropriated from his past life, was reaching its climax.
Medics congregated in clusters, exchanging views and interpretations, creating the exact environment Haruki had envisioned when he first proposed the idea of this conference — a symposium encouraging open dialogue, education, and collective wisdom.
"Through this forum," Mari continued, her voice thick with pride, "Our medical team can scrutinize, learn, and evolve from each individual case. This initiative transcends mere rectification of errors, it's about acknowledging and acquiring a deeper understanding of obscure and rare ailments. It's a platform preparing us to tackle the unknown."
Her gaze swept over the medics in heated discussion, their eyes reflecting a potent mix of curiosity and determination. "I am confident that Konoha's overall medical proficiency is already experiencing considerable enhancement due to these conferences," she declared, passion infusing her every word.
Mari's comments weren't solely about upgrading their skillsets. "The M has begun to cultivate a culture of transparency and values team-based learning. It moves us away from the dread of failure. Instead, it promotes the concept of transforming our errors into opportunities for learning."
Haruki flashed a warm smile at Director Mari. "I'll admit," he confessed, "when I first proposed the idea of the M Conference, I half expected our attending medics to claw at each other in a bid to shine. But that hasn't been the case."
He paused, acknowledging her with a nod, "Your direct involvement and guidance have been instrumental in fostering an atmosphere of unity and cooperation, rather than competitiveness."
Mari playfully rolled her eyes, a hint of amusement dancing in them. "Oh, shut up, Haruki-san. It was your initiative that brought new blood into our ranks. You recruited promising medical staff from numerous clans and melded them into a unified force under this hospital's banner." Haruki ignored her, as the speaker was now focusing on him.
Haruki nodded appreciatively at Uemura Saki before addressing the entire room. "Saki-san, I commend your efforts in this difficult case," he began, choosing his words carefully to ensure that the younger medic understood his intentions were constructive, not critical.
Drawing in a breath, he continued, "I'm sure many of you are familiar with the phrase 'If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck, then it must be a duck.' In many cases, this logic guides us in the right direction. It's a useful adage that cautions us to rely on what is observable and self-evident."
He glanced around the room, making sure everyone was following his train of thought.
"But in medicine, this rule doesn't always apply. A simple fever, as we learned from today's case, can signify more than just a common cold or infection. We should always consider the whole picture, even when parts of it don't initially seem to fit."
Haruki saw nods of agreement and thoughtful expressions around the room. He was glad his message was resonating.
"We must not limit ourselves to what is immediately apparent. Sometimes, a patient might not even be aware of certain symptoms that might be vital in reaching a correct diagnosis. Therefore, we must be proactive in uncovering these hidden signs. Ask them open-ended questions, analyze their behaviors, consider their family medical history, recent lifestyle changes, and many other tools we possess, considering at all times the bigger picture."
There was a murmur of assent, and Haruki, satisfied with his input, concluded, "Let us always remember that every patient is unique, and every case can teach us something new. That's why we're here, after all—to learn, to improve, and most importantly, to provide the best care possible to our patients."
With that, Haruki stood and thanked everyone for their contributions, officially concluding the first Morbidity & Mortality Conference in Konoha's Hospital. The message of the day was clear: the face of medicine was changing, and under Haruki's lead, they were prepared to meet the challenge.
Blinded by the morning sun, Haruki headed out from the hospital after finishing a super long night shift that involved a group of ninjas hurt from a recent skirmish with Kumo. Thankfully, Toba Keiko was swiftly made Chief of Trauma, and with more staff coming from across a handful of Clans, Haruki managed to convince each of their clan heads to contribute, resulting in a significant improvement in the hospital's effectiveness.
As a result, gone were the days of patients languishing unattended or doctors making fatal mistakes due to sleep deprivation. The influx of resources and manpower had made a significant impact on patient care. The hospital staff became less burdened, depressed, and more well-rested, and their morale was at an all-time high leading to fewer accidents or mistakes. Patients are attended to in a more timely manner, resulting in lowering mortality rates across the board. They were delivering a level of care and dedication that Konoha had not seen, well ever. Even in Sensei's era, they never had enough iryo-nins and she was singlehandedly carrying Konoha's medic corps.
The atmosphere within the medical facility was slowly transforming into one of renewed vigor and hope. Despite the exhaustion, Haruki felt a sense of fulfillment as he walked through the bustling streets of Konoha. He knew the road to progress would be long and arduous, but he was ready to face every challenge head-on.
Once he checked that no one is following or spying on him, he quickly shunshined away. Arriving at the Orphanage, he saw Kabuto and Yoroi exercising and practicing their katas while leading the other kids. He knew that Kabuto is a genius, but it seemed that Yoroi is also quite comparable himself. Soon, Kabuto noticed him, to which he quickly grabbed Yoroi before making up reasons to leave the room.
Kabuto ran towards him before stopping and bowing slightly. He's too stubborn for his own good. "It looks like the two of you are following the taijutsu book well" he smiled. The two blushed at his praise. "Have you finished reading my notes?" to which Kabuto nodded before summarizing its content and what he found intriguing. The three discussed medical-related topics and taijutsu before Haruki gave the two another set of medical notes and a taijutsu scroll.
"I trust that the two of you have been exercising with chakra control?" he asked, "Nono-san has been watching the two of us practice just in case. Kabuto have mastered tree and water walking, but I'm still adjusting to water walking" Yoroi explained, slightly down towards the end. He smothered Yoroi's hair, "Most academy students graduates without even learning these two basic exercises. So the two of you are far ahead already". Yoroi turned red, but leaned on his touch.
"Keep it up, you two. Just make sure to train inside, okay?" Haruki proceeded to take out several boxes on top of each other. "This is your gift" he warmly smiled, "These are pastries called donuts," he showed them the rows of beautifully decorated and colorful donuts lining the box. He made some additional batches while trying to come up with some new addition to the menu for his cafe chains.
The boys' eyes sparkled in delight, Yoroi even gulped at the sight. "They all have different flavors. There's quite a lot so share with the rest, okay?" he chuckled at the two to which they promptly nodded. "Okay, I can't stay for long since I just came back from the hospital. I'll see you guys around". The two pouted at the news but Kabuto still reasoned, "Please take care of yourself, Haruki-sama. You need to rest properly. You can't help others if you are unwell, Haruki-sama".
Haruki felt odd at the younger boy chastising him, but he smiled nevertheless. He tousled both of the boy's hair, "Okay, I'll go rest right after this". Kabuto nodded sagely as if he succeeded in his grand plans while Yoroi seemed just concerned. After a few more words, Haruki left the orphanage
Haruki walked through the dense trees, avoiding the bustling streets and noise of the village. He preferred the peace and solitude of the forest after a long day at the hospital.
As he made his way home, Haruki suddenly caught a glimpse of a black blur that flashed past him with incredible speed. He rolled his eyes, recognizing the familiar chakra signature. It was Shisui, the talented Uchiha shinobi who had taken a keen interest in Haruki lately.
Sure enough, the blur came back to him, and Haruki sighed inwardly, preparing himself for Shisui's company. "Haruki! I've been looking all over for you," Shisui exclaimed with a blinding grin, finally catching up. Here comes fly number 1.
Haruki raised an eyebrow, trying to hide his annoyance. "Is there something you need, Shisui?" he asked, trying to keep his tone neutral. Why is the Anbu still keeping tabs on him? Ffs.
Shisui's smile faltered slightly, as if he was a bit taken aback by Haruki's apparent lack of enthusiasm. He was hoping it was from the long hours. "I, uh, I just wanted to walk you home," he replied, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "You left the hospital before I could catch up with you."
Haruki nodded, relenting to the Anbu's efforts since he couldn't simply reject it. They might send other more unkind Anbu to replace him after-all. "Thanks, but you didn't have to. I can take care of myself," he said, still wary of Shisui's intentions.
Shisui chuckled, trying to play it cool. "Oh, I know that. I just thought it'd be nice to walk together, you know?"
Haruki gave a small shrug, not entirely convinced. "Thank you then, Shisui" he replied, continuing his walk with Shisui by his side.
As they walked, Haruki couldn't help but notice that Shisui seemed a little flustered. He would steal glances at him when he thought Haruki wasn't looking and occasionally stumble over his words. It was subtle, Anbu level subtle, but Haruki couldn't help but to feel miserable, begging Shisui internally to stop.
Haruki was then surprised to notice another incoming chakra. If Shisui's chakra was like a sunny fire that lights up the room, then this chakra was like a silent fire that's threatening to burn down the room. Shisui looked towards the speeding presence, apparently attempting to cover its existence. The Uchiha boy threw several shurikens to where the other hides. To which the hiding presence fought back.
The other party revealed himself. A black-haired stoic-faced young boy also clothed in a classic Uchiha outfit. Itachi struck, launching a shuriken at Shisui from behind a tree. Shisui anticipated the attack and gracefully sidestepped, the shuriken missing his shoulder. Chuckling, he swiftly retaliated, flicking a shuriken of his own toward Itachi.
Itachi effortlessly deflected the projectile with a kunai, his movements fluid and precise. Shisui was impressed but undeterred. He was well aware of Itachi's skills, and he wasn't going to make this easy.
Their dance of shuriken and kunai continued, each move artfully executed. Shisui utilized the surrounding environment to his advantage, using the trees and rocks as cover, while Itachi seemed to anticipate his every move.
Shisui's wrist flicked, a shuriken spiraled through the air, only to be expertly deflected by Itachi. Their movements were fluid and quick, their battle an intricately choreographed dance of shadows and light, each step measured, each motion deliberate.
As their playful skirmish intensified, an invisible bond of camaraderie and respect seemed to form between Shisui and Itachi. Each move, each counter, told a story of their mutual admiration and skill. Shisui held a deep respect for Itachi's abilities, knowing full well how rare it was to find a shinobi who could match his friend's talent.
Shisui, however, was far from being a pushover. He twirled and pirouetted, evading Itachi's relentless assault with a grace that belied his strength. At one point, he even conjured a genjutsu, momentarily distracting Itachi, creating a window of opportunity for a swift counter-attack.
The playful skirmish continued until they both finally stood still, panting and laughing. "Okay, okay, you win this round," Itachi conceded with a small smirk, giving Shisui a playful look while gasping, trying to catch his breath.
Shisui grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Of course, you know I'm the best," he teased. He turned towards the person he was trying to impress. Haruki's brows were scrunched, eyes that had previously clouded, dull and heavy lidded were now piercing Itachi. Shisui felt his stomach drop, "I—I'm sorry, you must be tired and I delayed your trip home" Shisui stuttered, desperately trying really hard to not piss Haruki off. But the boy didn't even bat an eye on him, eyes glued to the youngest boy.
Itachi's face flushed embarrassedly. "I apologize, Saint-sama. Shisui-senpai usually trains with me when he's not on a mission. So I was looking around for him" trying to salvage the situation noticing how flustered his friend is. And when all the two receive was silent, Shisui begins to chastising himself internally, angry at how stupid he was.
The atmosphere was tense as Haruki's gaze remained fixed on young Itachi, his mind racing with concern. From his past life, Haruki remembered rumors suggesting that Itachi had been afflicted with a serious, fatal disease that explained his declining health towards the end of his life. Today, the young Uchiha looked healthy enough, but Haruki couldn't shake off the nagging worry.
He had noticed some telltale signs that made him suspect microscopic polyangiitis or MPA, a condition that should have been rare for someone Itachi's age. Trying to keep his composure, Haruki began asking seemingly unrelated questions, ignoring the tension, to probe for the typical symptoms.
"Do you often experience joint pain, Itachi-san?" Haruki asked, watching for any flicker of recognition in the young boy's eyes. Itachi furrowed his brows, clearly puzzled by the sudden line of questioning. "Uh, sometimes, I suppose. But isn't that normal for kids?," he replied hesitantly.
Haruki nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "And have you noticed any skin rashes or sores that don't seem to heal?" Itachi's confusion deepened, but he thought back to some instances when he had minor skin irritations. "Maybe a few, but they went away after a while."
The Saint's heart sank slightly as he ticked off the symptoms in his head. "Any problems with your kidneys or stomach? Anything unusual in your urine?" Itachi's eyes widened at the unexpected inquiry. "I don't think so. My stomach hurts sometimes, but it's not that bad."
Haruki's mind was now almost certain of his diagnosis, but he needed more information to be sure. "Have you ever experienced unexplained fevers or bouts of fatigue, Itachi-san?" The young Uchiha frowned, trying to recall any such experiences. "I do get tired after training, but that's normal, right?"
Shisui suddenly interrupted, catching on, "Is everything okay?". Haruki's expression softened slightly, acknowledging Shishui's question but not responding to him. As he saw Itachi's confusion and innocence. "Yes, fatigue can be normal. But sometimes, it's good to keep an eye on these things, just to be safe."
Haruki approached Shisui, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Shisui, could you request Uchiha-sama to discreetly bring Itachi to the hospital tomorrow night?". Shisui gulped at the implied meaning, but also at the sudden closeness of Haruki. He attempted to focus on Haruki's words instead. Haruki softened his gaze, "It could be nothing, a false alarm, and we can have a good laugh about it a few weeks from now. But I just want to be sure". Haruki's smile lit up his face, and Shisui, understanding his intentions, returned the smile before nodding in agreement.
Not entirely convinced by the vague assurances, Itachi presented his next question with an air of vulnerability. "Are you going to fix me if something's wrong?"
Haruki pivoted on his heel, managing a comforting smile as he reassuringly patted Itachi's shoulder. The young Uchiha had ventured closer, his youthful curiosity piqued. "It might really be nothing. But remember this - all my patients receive the best care, Itachi. You're still young; if there is something amiss, catching it early will be to our advantage."
Haruki's heart ached for the young boy. He understood that a firm diagnosis would necessitate further tests and consultations with medical specialists. For the moment, however, he chose to withhold the gravity of his suspicions, aiming to spare Itachi unnecessary anxiety.
As they resumed their journey homeward, Haruki kept a vigilant eye on Itachi, his mind busily formulating the next steps to ensure the young Uchiha's health. A sense of responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders, but he was steadfast in his resolve to do everything possible to protect this boy, the one so cruelly betrayed and sacrificed in the previous timeline. Their conversation ebbed and flowed naturally until they reached Haruki's home, where they exchanged a few final words before parting ways.
With that, Haruki turned and vanished into his home, leaving Shisui rooted to the spot, a whirlpool of emotions swirling within him. Concern for Itachi lingered, stirred by the unprecedented seriousness in Haruki's demeanor. A different part of him harbored hope; hope that one day he would summon the courage to express his feelings for Haruki. Until then, he resolved to continue in his role as Haruki's unobtrusive shadow, stealing surreptitious glances and blushing unnoticed, hoping to become a pillar of support that Haruki could rely on when needed.