parasitism eve

Chapter 2

Upon hearing this, Liming held Shengmei's hand all night, talking to her constantly, telling her about what he had seen and heard that day, recalling the beautiful memories they had shared, and how deeply he loved her. Liming continued talking to Shengmei like this.

Saint-Mei's body temperature was clearly felt through her palms. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically as she breathed quietly, the soft "puff puff" of the ventilator echoing throughout the intensive care unit.

The next morning, Liming suddenly wanted some peace and quiet, so he drove to the pharmacy department. He drove through the almost deserted streets, heading straight for the department on the small hill. The building was still shrouded in a thin morning mist. Liming breathed in the damp air as he entered the pharmacy building and headed towards his lab. The lab was, of course, empty. Liming sat down at his desk, leaned back in his chair, let out a long breath, and then looked out the window. The street scene shrouded in white mist was faintly visible in the distance. At that moment, the face of Shengmei, lying quietly in the intensive care unit, reappeared before his eyes.

By now, Liming had experienced several heart-wrenching separations from loved ones. They died either from illness or old age. When they died, their skin had lost its elasticity, their faces were pale, their bodies were cold and stiff, and they seemed devoid of life. Liming believed he could accept and understand death calmly. However, Shengmei's condition, lying in the intensive care unit, was so different from Liming's impression of death. Was Shengmei really dead?

In Li Ming's mind, the theoretical concept of brain death clashed fiercely with the warmth of Saint Mei's body that he could still feel in his hand. Li Ming had read some reports about brain death in newspapers and on television, and had also gained some rudimentary knowledge from clinical medical journals and introductory books. Up until now, he held a positive view of brain death, even believing that some criticisms of it were unscientific and purely emotional. Since there were patients needing organ transplants, why hesitate to promptly extract the necessary organs from brain-dead individuals? However, the situation before him made Li Ming increasingly confused: was this the right thing to do, or the wrong thing to do?

Saint-Mei's heart was still beating, yet they were going to remove her internal organs. The thought made Liming bite his lip tightly. Although he dissected mice every day, this time it wasn't a mouse being dissected, but his own wife. Just imagining it was unbearable. Liming had never attempted human dissection before, and while he was used to dissecting experimental animals, he wasn't a specialist in anatomy, so these dissections hadn't left him with any good impressions. The image of a mouse being anesthetized and having its abdomen cut open flashed before Liming's eyes, gradually overlapping with the image of the naked Saint-Mei. Liming seemed to see the mouse's liver and kidneys through Saint-Mei's abdomen.

kidney!

Li Ming closed his eyes.

Shengmei had registered with a kidney donation registry before her death. Liming clearly remembered that it was a morning at the end of last year when Shengmei suddenly said she wanted to donate her kidneys after she died. Liming thought at the time that organ transplantation should be promoted, and if Shengmei's kidneys could continue to serve others and alleviate their suffering after her death, that would be a good thing. But now, if a kidney had to be taken from Shengmei, whose body was still warm and whose heart was still beating strongly, Liming simply could not accept it. Moreover, he could not accept the fact that Shengmei was already dead. He firmly believed that Shengmei was not dead and that there must be a way to keep her alive.

Liming opened his eyes and found that the morning mist outside the window had dissipated without him noticing. The distant street scene was dazzling in the sunlight, and birdsong drifted in from somewhere. A new day had begun. For many, this would be an ordinary, uneventful day. But for Liming, if it weren't for Shengmei's accident, this day would have left no impression on his memory.

Liming suddenly felt the urge to stretch his tired body, so he stood up, left the lab, and headed towards the culture room. He wanted to check on the cells' condition one last time before returning to the hospital. He thought that if the cells were stable, he would let them continue to multiply… Liming carefully observed the cells through the microscope while checking his culture flasks. Everything seemed fine; there was nothing urgent to address. Liming breathed a sigh of relief, staring blankly at the hybrid and cancerous cells. Suddenly, an idea popped into his mind.

Li Ming looked away from the microscope and stared intently at the red culture medium in the flask, letting out a sigh of admiration.

"Ah, Saint Mei..."

Liming's heart pounded. He jumped to his feet, the chair crashing to the floor with a loud thud. The sudden thought swelled in his mind. Liming staggered backward, but his gaze remained fixed on the flask on the table. Perhaps Saint-Mei's body was already brain-dead, but I could use my power to keep her alive. All of Saint-Mei's bodily functions were still alive! Liming thought this as he stared at the flask. He clenched his fist and let out a long, drawn-out roar.

Liming was distraught, and the journey to the hospital seemed incredibly long. He pressed the accelerator, shifting gears repeatedly, muttering Shengmei's name under his breath. Several things urgently needed to be done: first, obtain Shengmei's family's consent to donate her kidney; second, contact the assistant in the First Surgery Department with whom he had previously collaborated on research; and third, gain the doctors' understanding. None of these things were particularly difficult. Shengmei was alive, and she could continue to live. The thought brought tears to Liming's eyes. Shengmei, we will be together forever!

Li Ming shouted in his heart.

Chapter Four

While Liming and his father-in-law continued to stay at the hospital to watch over Shengmei, the doctors conducted a second brain death determination test on her. This time, the attending physician they had met the day before and another doctor worked together to complete the test.

Li Ming noticed that although the examination appeared to be a very thorough and exaggerated procedure, it actually just involved having her wear headphones to listen to sounds and then stimulating her skin to see if she reacted. Just like the last examination, Shengmei's brainwaves remained unchanged.

The attending physician filled out yesterday's diagnosis while looking at the EEG. Li Ming thought to himself, "This is really unscientific. All the results are the same as before."

After the examination, the attending physician handed the diagnosis report to Liming and looked at him for their understanding. Liming looked at the results filled in with ballpoint pen on the diagnosis report, then looked at Shengmei's face, nodded slightly, and returned the diagnosis report to the attending physician.

The attending physician took the diagnosis report, signed it in a blank space, and stamped it. "Miss Saint-Mei has been officially declared brain dead."

"well……"

What can be done now? Li Ming thought to himself, and gave a cold reply that surprised even himself.

"Then, please come to the doctor's office," the attending physician urged Li Ming.

A woman was already waiting for them in the doctor's office. Seeing them enter, she rose from her chair and bowed to them. Liming returned the bow with a vague smile.

"This is Ms. Azusa Oda, who is in charge of coordinating organ transplants," the doctor explained. "Because Ms. Seimi had registered with the kidney donation registry and pledged to donate her kidney for transplantation after her death, Ms. Oda came specifically to confirm with her family and retrieve the kidney."

After the doctor's introduction, the woman handed Li Ming her business card. She looked younger than Li Ming, dressed in a suit, giving the impression of a capable professional woman; yet she had soft features that contrasted with her sharp eyes, making her seem approachable. Her expression was very sincere, yet rational.

She bowed again and said, "Please take care of me." Li Ming sat down on the sofa opposite her.

"The so-called coordinator is a new profession that has only recently emerged in Japan," Ms. Oda began by introducing her job.

For organ transplantation to be successful, besides requiring a recipient, there must also be a donor. Aside from living donor transplants, the only available donors are those who have died of brain or heart failure despite resuscitation efforts. Doctors who perform resuscitation are responsible for emergency medical care and do not actively participate in organ transplant surgeries. On the other hand, if the surgeons performing the transplant were to negotiate with the deceased's family and remove the organs, it would inevitably cause resentment. Therefore, a mediator is needed to ensure a smoother and more successful organ transplantation process. The role of a coordinator is precisely this mediator. This involves many aspects, including adjusting doctors' schedules and providing care for the deceased's family, among other small details.

"Miss Saint-Mei's kidneys will be donated to two dialysis patients. Chronic renal insufficiency has no age limit for onset; even children can suffer from it. Unfortunately, there is no cure for this disease except for kidney transplantation. The only way to remove accumulated waste from the body is through dialysis. However, this dialysis treatment is time-limited, preventing patients from engaging in normal social activities; they also face strict dietary restrictions. After receiving a kidney transplant, these patients can fully recover their health, not only freeing them from dietary restrictions but also enabling them to travel. Therefore, Miss Saint-Mei's kidneys will certainly continue to function."

After listening to the coordinator's enthusiastic explanation and confirming the schedule up to the day the kidney was removed, Li Ming said, "We understand and can comprehend that Shengmei's kidney will relieve the suffering of other patients. We are willing to provide Shengmei's kidney because she was registered with the kidney donation registry before her death, which is a way of respecting her wishes. Therefore, we hope you will continue to take care of us in the future. However, we only hope to donate the kidney. As for the other internal organs, since we are not clear about Shengmei's own wishes, we would feel somewhat sorry for her if we removed them without her consent."

After expressing his thoughts, Li Ming looked at his father-in-law sitting next to him. His father-in-law, with his eyes closed, nodded slightly in acknowledgment.

“Even if it’s just a kidney donation, we would be extremely grateful. Thank you so much.” Ms. Oda, who was in charge of coordinating the work, bowed deeply to express her gratitude. “I will do my best to ensure this matter is completed successfully.” As she spoke, she took out a stack of documents and handed them to Liming.

Li Ming filled it out slowly. This was an agreement to donate internal organs. In the center of the thin B5 paper was a row of horizontal lead type that read: The donor above promises to voluntarily provide ( ) for internal organ transplantation after death.

In the column above this line, Li Ming filled in Sheng Mei's name, address, date of birth, and gender according to the writing format, and then carefully wrote the word "kidney" in parentheses. Finally, he sighed and helplessly wrote today's date, his own name, address, and his relationship with the deceased at the bottom of the agreement.

"Please stamp this." Miss Oda pointed her fair and slender finger to the place at the end of the document where the word "seal" was written.

Liming took his stamp out of his trouser pocket. Miss Oda took out ink from her handbag and placed it in front of him.

Li Ming pressed the seal firmly into the inkpad and then stamped it onto the agreement. The two characters "Yongdao" on the seal appeared somewhat incongruous with the content of the document, even giving the impression of being careless and willful.

Throughout the entire process, Li Ming seemed somewhat distracted. Had Sheng Mei's kidney really been donated so simply? A question involuntarily crossed Li Ming's mind.

The decision to remove the kidney from Shengmei's still-warm body seemed final. Such a momentous matter, decided on such a thin piece of paper! Had he made a mistake? Liming gently shook his head. What had he been thinking? If he didn't do this, wouldn't Shengmei's life be prolonged? To continue living with Shengmei in the future, he had to do it! Shengmei possessed not only her physical appearance, but every single cell of her own life. He had to possess this Shengmei, composed of individual cells! He had to break free from his previous thoughts! Just then, Liming felt a surge of heat within him, the same burning sensation he felt when the doctor told him Shengmei was dead. His head began to spin.

As Li Ming was leaving the doctor's office, he quietly approached the doctor when his father-in-law wasn't looking and whispered, "Actually, I have something about Shengmei that I'd like to ask for your help with."

"What's up?"

"First of all, this is just a wish of mine, and I hope you can keep it a secret from Saint-Mei's parents... It's about the exchange of Saint-Mei's kidney."

"Exchange terms? What exactly are you..."

The doctor looked surprised, but Li Ming quickly stopped him, then quietly walked behind the doctor and whispered in the doctor's ear, "Please help me remove Shengmei's liver... I want to perform primary culture of the liver."

"Parasite Eve"

Section 6

Chapter Five

After finishing his work in the ward area, Shinohara Norio returned to the First Surgery Department on the fifth floor of the Clinical Research Building. He exited the elevator, turned right, and the last room was his research lab. He took out his key, opened the door, and, unconsciously massaging his shoulders, walked into the quiet office and sat down at his desk. Passing the lab bench, he glanced at the digital clock; it was already 5:30. On his desk were two notes from his secretary: one saying she couldn't find the academic materials he wanted to photocopy, and the other saying a pharmaceutical company salesman had visited him.

Shinohara took his notebook from the breast pocket of his lab coat and placed it on the desk. He massaged his shoulders again to relieve the pain from his frozen shoulder. Lately, he'd unconsciously repeated this action every time he returned from the hospital. Strangely, the research lab was empty except for Shinohara. Normally, there would be one or two young graduate students working on experiments. Perhaps they'd gone to eat early today.

Shinohara made himself a cup of instant coffee, sat down at his desk, and opened his notebook, about to write down his schedule, when the phone rang. Judging from the dull ringing, it didn't sound like an internal call, but rather an inbound call from outside.

Shinohara stood up, cup in hand, and walked towards the phone. He took a sip of coffee and picked up the receiver. "...This is the Pharmacy Department..."

"Ah, aren't you Nagashima?"

A smile appeared on Shinohara's face. Although he wasn't speaking to the other person face-to-face, he still nodded with a beaming smile.

Shinohara and Toshiaki had known each other for a long time. When Shinohara was a graduate student, he attended lectures on physiological pharmacology at Toshiaki's research institute in order to obtain his doctoral degree. Even after graduating from medical school and obtaining a national medical qualification certificate, students were not guaranteed a medical doctorate. To some extent, they had to spend time in the laboratory, conducting experiments, writing papers, and undergoing review before they could obtain their doctorate. At that time, Shinohara was already twenty-nine years old, and he studied desperately to obtain his doctorate. Even when he was exhausted from helping his seniors with night shifts, he still insisted on going to the pharmacy department the next day to conduct cell culture research. Shinohara's assigned research topic was to determine the amount of cancer cell gene products that appeared along with the carcinogenesis of hepatocytes. The specific steps were: to remove the livers of mice, recover the cells, and perform primary culture, at which point the hepatocytes were still ordinary cells; then, to inject the ordinary cells with a carcinogenic agent to induce carcinogenesis, and then monitor the appearance of several proteins on the cell surface to study the relationship between their levels and the evolution of cancer cells. At the time, the cancer cell gene product that Shinohara identified was a protein that had not yet been extensively studied, which helped him obtain his doctoral degree. The antibody that confirmed this protein was created by an associate professor in Toshiaki's lab. Toshiaki was a graduate student at the time, and cancer cell genes weren't his direct research project, but he was conducting experiments daily, taking cells from mouse livers for primary culture. Because Toshiaki was skilled in this experiment, Shinohara frequently sought his help, learning tissue staining, flow cytometry, and many other things from him. After two years as a graduate student, Shinohara returned to the medical school, finally obtaining his doctorate the following year. His friendship with Toshiaki has continued to this day, and they often meet for a drink at a bar. Although there is an age difference between them, they always address each other by their first names.

Shinohara, holding the receiver and sipping his coffee, chuckled wryly, wondering if he was being asked to go drinking again. But then he noticed something was off. From the other end of the line came a strange, distorted sound, almost like a groan. Had the line been jammed? Shinohara frowned, trying to press the volume up button a few times, but nothing changed; the strange sensation remained.

Shinohara sensed that Toshiaki seemed to want to say something, but remained silent, and a long silence ensued between them. Steam rose continuously from the hot coffee, forming a vortex above the cup.

Finally, Shinohara couldn't hold back any longer and wanted to break the silence, asking Rimei what she had to say. Just then, Rimei's deep voice came from the other end of the phone. "Satomi is dead."

A chill ran down Shinohara's back.

Shinohara subconsciously glanced around the empty research room. The fluorescent lights suddenly flickered, becoming dim and unstable. But they quickly returned to normal, yet Shinohara still felt a hissing noise in his ears, and shadows kept shifting on the floor. Shinohara was momentarily enveloped in a strange feeling.

"...What?" Shinohara shouted, his voice so loud it startled even himself. His saliva splattered out, arcing in front of him before falling down.

"But, Saint Mei is still alive!"

"Hello……"

"Shinohara, please help me remove Seimi's liver cells. I'm not a doctor, so I can't participate in the dissection of Seimi. But if it's you, there won't be any problem."

"Shengmei? What happened to Shengmei?"

"I'm coming to you right now. I believe you will definitely help me."

"What are you talking about? Where are you right now?"

"I'll be there right away."

The call was disconnected.

Shinohara stood there, still holding the receiver, completely bewildered. He didn't understand what had happened, but the only thing he was certain of was that Nagashima Toshiaki's voice sounded very unusual.

Shinohara suddenly remembered that Toshiaki had said he would be here soon. He subconsciously looked around, thinking: Could Toshiaki be somewhere nearby? But it was clearly an outside call just now. Where is he now?

Just then, less than a minute after hanging up the phone, the door behind Shinohara was opened. Shinohara was startled and immediately turned around.

Li Ming stood at the door with a smile.

The coffee cup slipped from Shinohara's hand and fell to the ground, shattering into pieces.

"Parasite Eve"

Chapter Six

Section 7

When the phone rang, Mariko Anzai was doing math problems in her room. She had put a cassette tape of her favorite female singer into her Walkman, turned the volume up, and was doing her homework while listening to music. The tape was a copy she'd received from a middle school classmate. Today's homework was about geometry problems. Although it was a bit harder than she'd expected, her strong interest in math meant she wasn't bored. After thinking carefully for a while, she drew an appropriate auxiliary line, and the problem was easily solved. Just then, she heard the phone ring. "Coming, coming."

Mariko stood up and walked towards the corridor, slightly annoyed that her train of thought had been interrupted.

As Mariko stepped out of her room, she found the house still quiet and deserted. She glanced at the clock in the hallway; it was exactly 8:20, and her father still hadn't returned. But she wasn't surprised, because ever since he became a department head, he often didn't come home until after 11 PM. Although he always said it was because he was busy with work, Mariko knew the real reason was that he wanted to minimize the time he spent seeing her. Mariko walked down the hallway, the clatter of her slippers overlapping with the ringing of the telephone; these two sounds were the only sounds echoing in the house.

Mariko casually picked up the receiver and asked somewhat rudely, "Hello, who is it?"

"Hello, this is Oda, who is in charge of coordinating organ transplantation. I'm so sorry to bother you so suddenly. Is Mr. Anzai Shigenori in?"

Mariko was startled and gasped, then reflexively looked at the back of her left hand. The sleeve of her tracksuit was rolled up, revealing a needle mark from a puncture. Above this mark, hidden by the sleeve, was another identical needle mark. Both marks suddenly began to throb with pain.

“Father hasn’t returned yet,” Mariko replied hesitantly.

"Is Ms. Mariko here?"

"Ah, that's me."

"Well, since we have found the kidney donor you are looking for, we would like to discuss the specifics of the kidney transplant surgery with you."

Upon hearing the word "kidney transplant," Mariko felt a tingling sensation down her back, her heart began to race, and goosebumps rose all over her body.

After the previous transplant surgery failed, Mariko was forcibly taken to the kidney registry by her father to register for a transplant of a dead kidney. Only a year and a half has passed, and now that the transplant is being brought up again, Mariko can't help but feel that it's a bit too hasty. Her memory involuntarily goes back to a year and a half ago.

“Because there are very few volunteers who voluntarily donate kidneys after death, you must wait patiently.” At that time, a doctor named Yoshizumi explained this while patting Mariko’s head, who was still an elementary school student. But for Mariko, these words meant nothing. She never intended to have a second transplant. She only came to register because of pressure from her father.

"So, how long do we expect to wait?"

"Regarding this question, I cannot give you a specific answer. In large hospitals in and around Tokyo, sometimes more than ten cadaveric kidney transplants are performed a year, but that's because there are more kidney donors in the Tokyo area. In our area, the situation is very different; there are only two or three such surgeries a year. I also feel very sorry about this, but there's nothing we can do about it. As we all know, the concept of 'brain death' is not widely accepted in Japan, so the only people who can provide cadaveric kidneys are those whose hearts have stopped beating. In addition, the number of people who die of heart disease who are suitable for kidney donation is very small, and the process of timely extraction of fresh kidneys is quite difficult in practice, resulting in a very small absolute number of kidneys available for transplantation. Furthermore, there is the issue of whether the donated cadaveric kidney will be incompatible with Ms. Mariko's body, and there is also a priority order for registration. Meeting all these conditions is a very difficult thing. Of course, we can try to find suitable kidneys for you in other regions, but even then, there are quite a few people who have to wait five or ten years."

"ten years……"

The look of despair on her father's face at that time still lingers in Mariko's mind.