Eternally Yours

The early morning light filtered into the room, glinting off the framed photos on her desk---keepsakes of life halted at age five when she was kidnapped and held captive for three days.

Hana descended the grand staircase where her parents sat finishing breakfast in the sunroom, her father Kaito buried behind a newspaper, her mother Midori critiquing the housekeeper. Hana takes a steadying breath.

“Mother, Father...I wanted to discuss... about... college,” she begins tentatively.

Kaito replied behind his newspaper with a monotonous tone. “Of course. Should we start touring universities soon?”

Hana shakes her head, slender fingers worrying the charm necklace ever-present around her neck, seeking courage. “I applied for nursing school.”

Midori nearly upends her teacup. “Absolutely not!” she interjects, azure silk robe billowing as she stands abruptly. She begins pacing, the clicking of her heels punctuating her words.

“Applying to nursing school without a single word to me? Shizumi Hana, do you have any idea how this throws our plans into disarray?”

Hana’s hands fisted at her sides, her nails digging into her palms. “Plans? Those are your plans, Mother. Not mine.”

“Your plans?” Midori scoffed. “After all that your father and I have sacrificed for you! Since when do you have your own plans? London School of Economics, that’s what’s on the table. A prestigious education, a network of influential contacts… what more could you possibly want?”

“A life I choose!” Hana shot back, her voice raw with emotion. “One where I’m not just a pawn in your game!”

A flicker of something akin to pain crossed Midori’s face, a fleeting glimpse beneath the carefully constructed mask. But it was quickly replaced by a renewed wave of anger.

“Don’t you dare blame me for your… your misplaced ambitions,” Midori spat, her voice dripping with disdain. “That influence… that Mira… she’s filled your head with foolish dreams.”

Hana bristled. “This has nothing to do with Mira! This is about me, about doing something I actually care about for once!”

“I won’t have you around such chaos, such nonsense!” Midori continues, blonde hair impeccable despite her agitation. “You will train in your father’s company instead. It’s what I want you to do.”

Hana steels herself, meeting her mother’s flashing hazel eyes unflinchingly. “My mind is set, Mother. This is my path.” Hana’s hands tremble, but her voice remains steady. “Nursing is my passion. I want to help people.”

Midori scoffs, fear morphing into frustration. “Don’t be naive, Hana. It’s an admirable sentiment, but the world will chew you up.”

The words sting. Hana blinks back tears, fighting the familiar anxiety creeping through her chest. “Have a little faith in me, Mother. I’m not as fragile as you think.”

“Shizumi Hana, Listen to me!” Midori’s imperious facade finally cracks. She turns away, shoulders trembling. “You have no idea...”

Just then, Midori reached out, a hesitant hand trembling towards Hana. Hope flickered in Hana’s chest, a fragile flame yearning for warmth. But before their skin could touch, Midori’s hand halted mid-air. The fear in her mother’s eyes, raw and naked, shattered Hana’s heart.

“Mom?" Hana’s voice was softer now, tinged with concern.

Midori remained turned away, her gaze pressed against the window.

Hana backs away in shock, the wall hugging her from behind. “I don’t even know if you love me anymore, you don’t even care about what I want. But it’s time for me to live on my terms.”

“Go to your room, Hana. We will not speak of this anymore,” she whispers harshly.

She flees up the stairs as tears threaten to spill over, hyperventilating. Each breath feels like glass dragged over sandpaper. She muffles frantic sobs into her pillow, clinging to the one thing that grounds her - the watch her father gifted at graduation. She focuses on its rhythmic ticking, anchoring to this moment until the panic attack subsides.

By the time her breathing regulates, her resolve has only hardened. Looking over to her bedroom dresser, she opens the last drawer and gives the bottle of pills one last look before shutting it. She wipes her eyes, holding close the image of helping others like herself. It is time to let go.

Kaito rests a hand on Midori’s arm, ever the peacemaker. “Darling, calm down. She is just a child...”

But Midori turns on him. “This is nonsense! Have you forgotten what happened to our girl?” Her voice catches. “I won’t lose her again!”

At nightfall, she headed downstairs without another word, heart leaden but resolute, in her hands, a few belongings. This image of her mother, enraged and terrified, is not the final memory she wants. But she knows now that setting herself free means letting go.

************************************************

Hana gratefully sinks into the desk chair at the nurses’ station, rubbing her neck from lack of sleep. Her nights have been filled with studying on cases while her days have been preoccupied by endless shifts. She wasn’t even sure how many all-nighters she had pulled. Five? Seven?

Julia brings over a steaming cup of chamomile tea, its floral fragrance soothing at the start of the evening shift.

“So far so qu-” Julia remarks, picking up a chart while flipping through... The other nurses shudder dramatically. “Shhh!”

“Don’t jinx it!” hisses Clara, nearly sloshing her coffee as she waves her hands frantically, her fiery hair escaping its ponytail. She glances around warily as if expecting chaos to erupt just from voicing the possibility.

“Don’t even say it!” Audra pleads, glancing anxiously up from checking her phone.

Julia looks affronted, pausing mid-sentence with her mouth still open. The other nurses freeze, staring wide-eyed like she might set off an explosion by finishing her thought.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Julia huffs, snapping the chart closed. “You all are far too superstitious.” But she notices Hana surreptitiously crossing her slender fingers under the high countertop and hides a smile.

From one of the rooms drifts the hearty laughter of Dr. Rowan examining a patient. Hana allows herself a small smile at the comforting sound. At least someone remains unaffected by superstition and tension.

Dr. Rowan emerges from an exam room, his brown hair endearingly mussed. He joins them at the curved station, accepting the cup of strong coffee Clara offers with exaggerated wariness.

“Well, well...if it isn’t my favorite lovely ladies!” Rowan winked broadly at them. The nurses immediately snapped to attention as Dr. Rowan strode towards them, his beaming smile a stark contrast to his rumpled scrubs. The ER attending had a larger-than-life presence that always put Hana a little on edge.

“Dare I ask what has everyone so tense this morning?” he inquires, one eyebrow raised in amusement.

“They’ve gotten it into their heads I’m going to jinx things by mentioning...” Julia lowers her voice to a theatrical whisper “...the *q* word.”

Rowan chuckles, the rich sound seeming to break the spell. “I assure you many more patients are needing our help out there. But fret not, we’ll handle whatever comes our way.”

His calm confidence proved infectious. The nurses relax, laughing softly at their skittishness. Hana marvels at how he exudes steadiness and humor even on the brink of chaos. She wishes she could emulate that unflappable aura.

No sooner has the thought formed than the loudest new nurse intern, Julie, makes a flippant gesture. “Whatever, it’s totally quiet in here!”

The staff collectively tenses. But seconds continue to tick by without incident. Slowly the group relaxes, rolling their eyes at their ridiculousness.

The incessant clamor of the emergency line shattered the momentary lull that had settled over the County Hospital ER. Audra, normally a picture of composure, paled as the ringing drilled into the quietude. Her hand, trembling slightly, reached for the receiver with the hesitation of one knowing the weight of the news it might carry. “H-hello, County Hospital ER,” she stuttered, her voice betraying the sudden spike in her heartbeat.

A tense silence enveloped the room, every ear straining to catch snippets of the unfolding calamity through Audra’s end of the conversation. Her eyes widened, reflecting the gravity of the dispatcher’s words, and the room seemed to contract around her.

“Yes, yes, we’ll prepare for incoming!” she affirmed with a nod that none but the voice on the other line could see. The phone clicked back onto its cradle with an urgency that resonated through the stillness.

Wide-eyed, Audra turned to face her colleagues, the blood drained from her face as if she had witnessed the horror they were about to confront. “There’s been an accident—a bus crash. Multiple critical injuries on the way.”

The ER explodes into action, Julia coordinating preparations, Clara wheeling out crash carts, and other nurses calling for backup.

Within moments the ambulance bay doors crash open to deliver the first victims. Hana switches into crisis mode, letting her training guide her reactions.

As if on cue, the ambulance bay doors burst open with a metallic clang, disrupting the brief lull. Gurneys streaked across the threshold, each carrying a precious cargo of human life hanging precariously between moments. Hana’s instincts kicked in, her training taking hold as she pivoted towards the first stretcher.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” the medics barked, the urgency in their voices a stark contrast to the practiced calm etched onto Hana’s face.

“Okay, let’s move!” The command barely needed to be spoken; it was already in motion, each member of the staff propelled by their resolve and training.

“Respirators and IVs, stat!” another nurse shouted, weaving through the maze of gurneys and medical equipment.

“Page Dr. Jenkins, tell him it’s a Code D!” The mention of Ren conjured an image of his larger-than-life presence.

The ER team didn’t have the luxury of time to dwell on fear or anxiety.

“Hana, let’s do our best, as always,” Hana whispered under her breath, a silent word of assurance to herself and whoever was listening. She adjusted the cuffs of her scrubs, her hands momentarily still before the storm.

“We’ve got a multiple-vehicle collision, head-on impact!” one paramedic shouts gruffly over the cacophony. “Multiple casualties, some trapped!”

A young man is wheeled in, face ashen, breaths shallow. His left femur juts out underneath the blanket at a sickening angle as Hana rushes IV supplies over.

In the next gurney, a woman keens, cradling the unconscious form of a young boy. “¡Ayúdame, por favor! ¡Mi niño, mi niño!” She rocks back and forth, catatonic with shock, his small chest unmoving.

Nurses tear into action, efficient despite the bedlam. Julia takes charge, her curls whipping around her face as she triages. “Clara, get a line in that head trauma and prep him for CT! Audra, start prepping the OR for potential surgery!”

Heart pounding, Hana steels herself into nurse mode. She whips open the intubation kit with trembling hands, only the steady presence of Dr. Jenkins beside her keeping her grounded.

“Breathe, Shizumi,” he murmurs calmly, already ventilating the lifeless child. “We’ve got this.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a body bag being zipped up. The driver, she realizes somberly, did not survive the impact. Death found him in mere seconds while others clung to threads raveled by catastrophe.

“We got a code blue, patient non-responsive!” shouts a paramedic, a man she recognizes from previous calls. “Pupils dilated and unresponsive, shallow breathing, pulse thready,” the paramedic rattled off.

Hana’s adrenaline spikes as she and the other nurses follow them inside, her feet automatically matching their pace. She helps to slide the patient onto the table, quickly scanning the information the paramedics relay.

The victim is a young man, his clothes and face covered in dirt. There is an ugly laceration on his forehead, his hair is matted with blood. Hana swallows the urge to gasp when she sees his eyes, rolled back and lifeless.

“Weak, thready pulse and he’s not breathing,” calls out the senior paramedic.

She moved alongside them, her hands reaching out to steady IV bags, her gaze locking onto the monitors as they beeped frantically.

“Pressure’s dropping here!” shouted a medic as he wheeled his patient past. Hana glanced at the blood pressure reading, her brow furrowing with concern as she noted the numbers plummeting. She didn’t need to say a word; her eyes communicated the gravity of the situation to the team.

Dr. Jenkins strides into the room, his expression grim as he assesses the situation. “Let’s get an intubation tube.”

Hana attaches the leads for the monitor. Her heart plummets at the flatline, the harsh tone piercing the air.

Clara is instantly beside her, the two women working smoothly as they intubate the patient. Ren takes over compressions, counting out loud to the rapid beat of the machine. Hana’s heart races alongside the steady beat, willing the patient to restart.

She moves automatically, working to save the life now slipping away. The rest of the world falls away as they fight to resuscitate, calling out the seconds as they shock the heart, the monitor’s incessant beeping drowning out the sounds of the chaos outside.

“Still no pulse,” Hana reports, her fingers already flying over the defibrillator, prepping it for shock.

All it took was a graze of the man’s skin on hers. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear the beep of the heart monitor and the whoosh of the ventilator. The sounds faded, and in their place, a strange vision began to form.

A winding country road at night. An old pickup truck careened out of control, headlights fading as it plunged into a ravine. The sharp crack of breaking glass and metal, a sickening thud.

Her eyes flew open to see the heart monitor flatline. “Clear!” They all step back and the patient’s body arches off the table. Hana’s hands grip the paddles tighter as she waits for the reading.

“Again, 300.” Another jolt. Still nothing. “Let’s increase it to 350.”

Another jolt, this time with an agonized grunt as the man’s body convulses. The young man is barely breathing on his own, the ventilator forcing his lungs to rise and fall. Dr Jenkins shakes his head and pulls off his gloves.

The flatline continues.

Hana’s mouth goes dry as her brain struggles to comprehend the impossibility of the situation.

“Time of death 9:18 am,” he calls out.

A brief silence fell in reverence for the recently deceased. This was the reality of the ER—the unrelenting pace, the weight of responsibility heavy on her slender shoulders.

The ER stretched endlessly around her, a sea of suffering and shattered lives.

A pregnant lady, in her mid-20s groaning in pain, holding onto her arm protectively was rushed in on a stretcher. “Help! The baby...” she gasps between pained groans.

Hana wants to run to her, but the man remains in her peripheral vision. “My baby! Save my baby!” she cried out, the tears pouring out of her eyes.

“It’s okay ma’am, we’ll take care of you. How far along are you?” Hana asked while assisting Dr. Ren in the assessment of her condition.

“18 weeks, I’m 18 weeks. I have an appointment next week, is my baby okay?” the lady whimpered.

“Try to remain calm, you’re going to be alright,” Ren’s voice was a low rumble as he and Hana hurried to her side. But even the head surgeon’s typical cold bedside manner softened at the sight of her obvious distress.

That’s when Dr. Lia arrived, her long strides quickly eating up the distance across the pit. The maternal OB/GYN didn’t even break stride as her hand found Ren’s shoulder in a practiced, familiar gesture.

As Lia sprang into action with quiet confidence and efficiency, Hana couldn’t help but watch her with a swirling mixture of admiration and another unsettled feeling.

The way Lia and Ren worked in such a synchronized partnership...it was clear theirs was a bond fortified by years of shared experience. Faced with the unruffled professionals they were, Hana felt like an insignificant outsider.

She was just a junior nurse, what could she possibly offer compared to the brilliant, put-together Dr. Lia? The older woman seemed to be a living refutation of everything Hana was - unflappable, polished, and... unavoidably beautiful.

Hana tried to push those unbidden insecurities aside as she stepped up to assist however she could. But try as she might, she couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being a perpetual outside looking in...

“Ma’am, we are doing everything we can to ensure your baby is okay. We just need to make sure you are well too, and we can do that together. Alright?” Dr. Ren tried to assure her, but he was met with a teary glare.

“What if you can’t save him? What if something goes wrong?”

“Ma’am, let’s try not to worry about the what-ifs and focus on the things we can do right now. Right?” Lia smiled at her reassuringly.

“Yes, let’s do that. I’m sorry, I’m just so scared.”

Hana hung back, trying her best to focus on being professionally useful rather than getting distracted by her churning inner thoughts. She watched in admiration as Dr. Lia took control of the situation with her usual unflappable calm.

“What’s your name, dear?” Lia asked in a soothing yet authoritative tone as she began her examination of the injured pregnant woman.

“S-Sarah,” the woman managed to gasp out between pained sobs.

“Okay Sarah, I need you to try and breathe deeply for me,” Lia instructed as she gently probed Sarah’s swollen abdomen. “Can you tell me if you’re having any contractions or unusual cramping?”

Sarah shook her head frantically. “No, i-it’s not that. It’s my arm...” She moved to gesture but stopped herself with a wince.

Lia’s eyes instantly narrowed at the aborted motion. “Let me take a look.”

With a feather-light touch, the doctor examined Sarah’s shoulder and upper arm, her fingers deftly seeking out any deformities or irregularities. After a few probing movements, Sarah couldn’t stifle a yelp of pain.

“I think you may have a dislocation here,” Lia murmured, more to herself than the patient. She locked eyes with one of the nearby nurses. “Get me the ultrasound for the baby and...Ren, the arm injury”

As the nurse hurried away, Lia turned her full attention back to Sarah. She smoothed the sweaty bangs off the woman’s forehead with comforting strokes.

“Deep breaths, you’re going to be just fine. We’re going to get you and your little one through this.”

Hana watched in admiration and no small amount of envy as Lia got to work prepping the ultrasound with practiced efficiency. The doctor’s endless stream of reassuring commentary seemed to instantly soothe Sarah’s panic.

“Sarah, could we perhaps see your arm?” Ren asked, gesturing to her arm that she was keeping pressed to her stomach.

“Oh yes, it’s just a scratch.” She lied

Hana could see the bone protruding from her skin and the blood soaking her shirt. The lady was in shock and didn’t know the extent of her injury.

“Alright, we’ll do a few x-rays and an ultrasound to check up on your baby, is that alright with you?” Lia suggested.

“Yes, of course. My husband is probably on his way, can you tell him I’m here? His name is David. Please find him.”

“Don’t worry ma’am, I’m sure he is on his way. ” Lia assured.

“Ma’am, you’ve suffered a trauma, we will need you to take some pain medication,” Ren informed her gently.

“Please, no, my baby,” she insisted.

“What if you were given a mild sedative instead, something to calm you so you don’t stress yourself and the baby?” Dr. Ren interjected, noticing how anxious Sarah was getting.

“Alright, just please take care of my baby,” she whispered.

“Jenkins, I’ll take it from here. You’re needed elsewhere,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Ren gave her the briefest of nods, his jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. He squeezed the pregnant woman’s hand once more before turning to assist another incoming trauma case.

As the next wave of injuries arrived, Hana felt the pull of her duty stronger than ever. Each broken body was a call to arms, each gasp for breath a silent plea for her expertise. And amidst this turmoil, she remained steadfast, her delicate features set in an expression of fierce determination, the silver necklace charm resting against her chest a glint of steadiness in the eye of the storm.

“Vitals on this one!” a medic called out, directing Hana’s attention to a new patient. She leaned over, quickly assessing the readings, her mind racing to piece together the puzzle of injuries before her. It was as if she could see through the chaos, her visions clear, guiding her actions with an almost supernatural precision.

The paramedic’s shout cut through the chaos like a knife. “We got a code blue, patient non-responsive!”

Ren was at his side in an instant, scanning the unmoving form as the gurney rushed through the doors.

Hana helped slide the patient onto an empty bed, as Nurse Clara was shouting orders to her team as she worked. “O2 mask, get me an IV line, monitor his vitals.” Her mind raced ahead, piecing together a diagnosis from the symptoms. The puzzle was coming together, each new clue guiding her actions.

“BP dropping, heart rate erratic,” a nurse called out. Dr. Ren leaned over the patient, palpating the man’s abdomen as he searched for a response.

A wince. There. Internal trauma.

“Get me an ultrasound machine. STAT,” he said, directed at anyone. Hana quickly set up the machine as they all looked up at the screen, rallying them to the cause. “Blood”

“There’s internal bleeding,” Crystal said, meeting Dr. Jenkins’ gaze with quiet confidence. “We need to go to surgery, now, or we’ll lose him.”

The doctor stared at her, confusion flickering in his eyes. But he had learned to trust Hana’s instincts. With a sharp nod, he made his decision.

“Take him to OR 3, we’re going in immediately.” He turned on his heel, already barking orders to prepare for emergency surgery. “Shizumi, Clara, scrub in”

“Yes sir”, they both chorused.

Hana scrubbed in alongside Dr. Jenkins, her mind eerily calm and focused. In the operating room, there was no room for doubt or second-guessing. Only swift, decisive action.

As soon as the first incision was made, a rush of blood and fluids spilled out onto the table. Just as she had seen, Dr. Jenkins’ eyes widened at the sight, but his hands remained steady.

“Clamps,” Ren said. “He’s bleeding internally from trauma to the spleen and intestines.”

The doctor’s brow furrowed in concentration as he explored the cavity. After a moment, he nodded. “Severe lacerations, we need to resection and repair immediately.”

They handed him instruments almost before he could ask for them, the two working in seamless tandem. After hours of painstaking work, they finally closed the last incision. Dr. Jenkins let out a sigh, peeling off his gloves and mask.

Hana sagged against the wall outside the operating room, adrenaline fading into bone-deep exhaustion. Her vision had cleared, but the memory of that ravaged abdomen stayed with her, stark and vivid.

The hospital corridor fell into a hushed stillness as the chaos of the day gradually ebbed away.

Turning a corner, Hana stumbled upon a heart-wrenching sight—Dr. Jenkins, his shoulders sagging under the weight of sorrow, broke the devastating news to the family of the man who had passed away earlier that day. The anguished cries of the widow pierced the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of life and the pain of loss.

Unable to bear the weight of her grief and the raw anguish of others, Hana retreated behind a nearby wall, her breath coming in shallow gasps as tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

Then it hit her. She witnessed a death. Her first patient death.

She pressed a trembling hand to her mouth, stifling the sobs that threatened to escape, her heart heavy with sorrow for the family she had witnessed torn apart by tragedy.

Hana wandered, her footsteps echoing against the sterile walls as she sought solace from the overwhelming emotions that threatened to consume her.

The paper-plastered walls of the on-call room greeted her, as she stumbled into the room, the heavy door swinging shut behind her with a soft click. Alone in the dimly lit space, barely remembering to turn on the light before collapsing onto the narrow bed.

Her body shook with silent sobs as the events of the day crashed over her like a tidal wave. In a fit of anger, she trashed the gloves that were her shield from the outside world.

All she could see was his blood. The flatline rang clear in her head. His last memories, a vision hidden in her head

Unbeknownst to Hana, Ren saw her as she exited the corner. But he stood just outside the break room door, his heart aching with empathy as he listened to her quiet despair. He knew all too well the toll that the harsh realities of their profession could exact, the weight of each loss etched into his soul like a scar that never healed.

Hana witnessed her first death today and he knew that she needed time to take it all in.

As Hana emerged from the break room, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the dim light, she collided with Ren, their bodies meeting in an unexpected embrace. For a fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still as they clung to each other, their shared pain bridging the divide between them.

Hana stood, frozen in Ren’s embrace, her eyes wide with surprise and her mind reeling from the sudden collision of emotions.

And in that moment, as their skin touched, she felt a strange sense of clarity wash over her—a brief respite from the visions that had haunted her since childhood.

As her body trembled with the aftershocks of their unexpected encounter, a small, involuntary hiccup escaped her lips, breaking the heavy silence that enveloped them.

Her head is so clouded by the feeling of touch that she doesn’t realize that her memory is clear.

No... visions.