The Silent Battle
SCENE : Blood and Steel
Location : Outside Kanagawa General Hospital – Time 4.02AM.
The hospital's main entrance is fully lit, an unusual number of floodlights illuminating the path. The usual calm is broken by the presence of armed SWAT officers, silently forming a perimeter. Sharp eyes scan every approaching vehicle. Inside, medical staff stand tense, whispering, stealing glances at the armed team.
Doctor Murase, the ER chief, finishes putting on his gloves and turns to the gathered team.
DR. MURASE:
"She's a high-risk trauma patient with a foreign object impalement. The moment that ambulance arrives, we move as one. Sword remains in until I say so. Understood?"
All nod. Whispers continue.
NURSE YAMADA:
"SWAT? For a single patient? Who is she?"
NURSE AKIKO:
"Rumor says she's some kind of deep cover operative. Whatever she is... she nearly died to bring something back."
A second later, sirens pierce the air. The ambulance swings into view, escorted by two black unmarked vehicles. As it stops, the doors fly open. Renji jumps out first.
RENJI:
"She's crashing. Let's move!"
Inside the ambulance, Emi lies still, her body battered beyond recognition. A blood-soaked sword is embedded diagonally—entered just below her ribcage, the blade protruding out her back. Her skin is pale, lips faintly blue. The medics worked feverishly during the ride, but it's clear—her time is short.
DR. MURASE (stunned at the sight but regains focus):
"Let's go! We keep the blade in place until we're prepped. On my count—lift!"
Four nurses and a trauma surgeon work quickly. Emi is transferred onto a gurney with military precision. As she's wheeled inside, everyone steps aside, gasping quietly at the surreal image: the young woman, soaked in blood, clinging to life, with a weapon still embedded in her, her fists still closed as if she refused to let go of her mission even unconscious.
Ayane arrive moments later from the family car, just behind the ambulance. Ayane's hand flies to her mouth again when she sees the gurney pass.
AYANE (to herself, trembling):
"They… they put a sword through her… my girl…"
Renji gently stops her before she can follow.
RENJI:
"She's not gone. Not yet. Let the doctors do their job."
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SCENE: Steel and Fragility
Location: Trauma Operating Room, Kanagawa General Hospital
The hospital's operating theater is locked down. Armed security personnel and SWAT officers guard the surgical wing. Tension and urgency hang like fog in the air.
Inside, under the harsh white lights, Emi lies barely alive. The sword is still embedded through her side and out her back, its once-glimmering steel dark with dried blood. Her body is pale and motionless, chest rising only with the help of the ventilator. The heart monitor flutters weakly.
Dr. Kensuke Murase (ER Chief), 48, leads the team—known for his battlefield calm.
Beside him is Dr. Ayaka Minami, 36, trauma surgeon with nerves of steel.
Nurse Miki Yamada, 32, monitors vitals.
Nurse Akiko Sera, 27, handles blood management and wound cleaning.
Dr. Tomohiro Kanzaki, 39, is the anesthesiologist.
Riku Igarashi, 30, the surgical tech, stands ready with tools.
But before the first incision—Nurse Yamada notices something beneath Emi's torn bra.
NURSE YAMADA:
"Doctor… there's something taped under her chest strap. Looks like... a thumb drive."
DR. MURASE:
"Don't touch it. I'll call it in."
Moments later, Renji Kurosawa enters the pre-op chamber in full tactical gear. Blood stains his gloves—Emi's blood.
DR. MURASE:
"This was found hidden on her. Protected with surgical tape. She must've done it before the fight."
Renji takes the drive gently, his face tight, voice low.
RENJI:
"She didn't come home empty-handed. Guard her like she's carrying the fate of this country."
DR. MURASE: (meeting his eyes)
"We will."
Renji nods once, the thumb drive already in his inner coat pocket. As he turns to leave, he hesitates, glancing back at the girl on the table.
RENJI: (quietly)
"Come back, kid… We're waiting."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Location: Trauma Operating Room, Kanagawa General Hospital
The room hums with tension. Overhead surgical lights bathe everything in sterile white. Machines beep steadily, but the tone is ominous—Emi's vitals are unstable, her heart rate weak. The sword still protrudes from her body, its black lacquered handle now soaked in dried blood. Her breathing is ragged, sustained only by the ventilator.
Dr. Murase stands at the head of the operating table, flanked by a team of six: two trauma surgeons, two nurses, an anesthesiologist, and a surgical tech. Everyone is in full gear, and still, sweat beads beneath their masks.
DR. MURASE:
"Everyone ready? We pull this blade, and we have less than thirty seconds to control the hemorrhage or she's gone."
NURSE YAMADA, who's been monitoring Emi's vitals, hesitates.
NURSE YAMADA:
"She's already hypotensive. BP's dropping... we might lose her the moment it comes out."
DR. MURASE:
"That's why we don't miss. Scalpel. Retractors. Suction on standby. 3… 2… 1—pull!"
TRAUMA SURGEON:
"Pulling—now!"
With steady, practiced hands, the surgeon begins drawing the sword back through Emi's body, inch by brutal inch. The metal grates slightly against bone as it slides.
The moment the blade is fully removed—
SPLASH.
A jet of blood bursts from the exit wound, hitting the surgeon's chest, splattering across Dr. Murase's face shield. The nurses don't even flinch—they move instantly.
NURSE YAMADA:
"Clamps—STAT!"
SUCTION TECH:
"Flooding in the peritoneal cavity!"
Emi's monitor screeches into a flatline. Her heart stops.
ANESTHESIOLOGIST:
"She's coding! Starting chest compressions—now!"
Dr. Murase lunges over her chest. CPR begins.
DR. MURASE:
"Push epi. 1 mg. Get me internal paddles. Don't you die, girl—don't you dare!"
The room moves like a machine—fluid, desperate. They crack her sternum open further to access her heart directly. With gloved hands and a steel clamp, the trauma surgeon exposes the organ. The paddles are charged.
TRAUMA SURGEON:
"Charging… clear!"
The paddles make contact. Emi's body jerks.
Nothing.
DR. MURASE:
"Again!"
Another shock. This time, a flutter.
NURSE:
"We've got rhythm! Weak but present!"
NURSE YAMADA: (tearing up quietly)
"She's fighting... she doesn't want to go."
As the blood is suctioned and the cavity packed, the team pauses a breath. Nurse Akiko, who's been wiping down Emi's face between steps, stops cold. Her cloth reveals the smooth, unmarred curve of Emi's cheek—except for a bruise near her temple, she looks… serene. Too young for this.
NURSE AKIKO: (softly)
"She's beautiful."
Everyone looks.
DR. MURASE: (quietly)
"...My God. She's just a girl."
Even covered in blood, pale as paper, and torn from battle, Emi's face is haunting—not fragile, but strong. The kind of beauty that carries pain, resolve, and something deeper. The kind that makes everyone around her ache.
NURSE YAMADA: (whispers)
"She knew she'd be hunted. And she came back anyway. Whatever she was carrying—she thought it was worth her life."
TRAUMA SURGEON:
"I've never seen anyone survive a sword impalement like that. Let alone still holding onto something in her hand."
DR. MURASE: (firmly, voice stronger now)
"She came back alive. Let's make sure she stays that way."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
SCENE: Fragments of War
Location: Trauma OR, Kanagawa General Hospital
As the trauma team stabilizes Emi after removing the sword, the surgeons prepare for the next life-threatening discovery.
Dr. Murase notices swelling and abnormal shadows near her chest cavity.
DR. MURASE:
"Something's off... There's more. Get the scanner back over the thorax."
Dr. Minami carefully uses ultrasound. Her breath catches.
DR. MINAMI:
"Six. Six bullets… all embedded in her chest and upper abdomen. Two near the pericardium."
NURSE AKIKO: (eyes wide)
"They missed her heart by centimeters… She shouldn't be alive."
DR. MURASE:
"She didn't just get stabbed—she was in a gunfight. And she kept moving…"
The surgeons move quickly, working around damaged tissue. Blood clots cling to bone. One bullet is buried just above her right lung.
DR. MINAMI:
"Clamps. We'll do thoracotomy on the lateral side. Suction—now."
One by one, the bullets are removed. The final slug, cracked and flattened from impact, rests just millimeters from her heart. The team goes silent for a moment as it's placed in a tray.
DR. KANZAKI:
"She was walking with this in her chest?"
DR. MURASE:
"No… she was surviving. There's a difference."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hours later, the surgery nears completion. Internal damage repaired. Blood transfusions administered. The ventilator still breathes for her. She's alive—but barely. The team stands in silence as they finish dressing her wounds.
NURSE AKIKO: (smoothing Emi's hair back gently)
"You're not alone, girl. You've got a family. And now… you've got us too."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
8:15 AM – Surgery Complete
Emi lies bandaged and intubated. Her wounds closed. Monitors beep steadily, ventilator hissing rhythmically. She's still unconscious, but alive.
Outside the OR, Renji and Ayane rise as Dr. Murase emerges, blood still on his shoes.
DR. MURASE:
"We nearly lost her. Twice. That sword pierced through the liver and diaphragm. If she'd been a minute later, she'd be gone. But… she made it."
Ayane sobs in relief, covering her mouth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Flashback when ambulance arrive,
Time : 4.02 AM
OUTSIDE – SMOKING AREA
Kazuki Maruo, 26, a well-known lifestyle influencer with 1.4 million MeTube followers, had stepped outside the hospital to smoke. His cousin was in for appendicitis, and the night had been uneventful—until now.
He spotted the ambulance—and more importantly, the armed men surrounding the bay.
Curious and always looking for content, Kazuki raised his phone and hit record.
KAZUKI (VLOGGING):
"Guys, it's almost four in the morning and something insane is going down at Kanagawa General. There's like—freaking SWAT everywhere. What even is this?"
Then he saw it.
The ambulance doors burst open. Paramedics rushed out a stretcher. A young girl, barely clothed, soaked in blood, lay nearly unconscious.
But that wasn't what made Kazuki stop talking.
It was the sword.
A long, bloodstained sword was still embedded through her body—from stomach to back. It rose from her like a cruel banner, glinting red beneath the floodlights.
Kazuki's camera zoomed in, but the stretcher was shielded, and her face never appeared—only the blood, the outline of the sword, and the surreal amount of SWAT escorting the medics into the bay.
KAZUKI (whispers):
"What the hell is this…? Who is she?"
He quickly ended the video, but not before his livestream chat exploded.
COMMENTS ROLLED IN FAST:
"That's a sword—did someone bring a real samurai to the ER??"
"Look at the blood. She's dying."
"Who the hell needs SWAT and has a sword through her stomach?"
"She's gotta be a high-profile agent or something."
One comment stood out:
"I've seen that blade before."
Kazuki froze. His influencer instincts now wrestled with a deeper, gnawing feeling. This wasn't just internet content—this was a national-level incident.