Tokyo: Let the wicked women pay the price!

"Am I your father?"

As soon as Fujino answered the phone, he was stunned for half a minute by Saki's opening remarks.

I can understand Japanese, but why can't I understand the meaning when we put them together?

"As for your mentally ill friend?" He frowned, a look of doubt on his face. "Are you sure you're not talking about yourself?"

"There's a parent-teacher meeting on Friday, Fujino-san. My father can't attend, so I'll have to ask you to go in his place."

Hearing Saki's pleading voice through the receiver, Fujino didn't hesitate much, but treating the illness...

Logically speaking, even doctors should not treat patients outside of hospitals.

However, psychiatrists are an exception.

"Friday night, parent-teacher conference? No problem." Fujino agreed readily, "But you need to make an appointment for her afterwards, the hospital needs to keep a record."

"Ah! Thank you so much! Fujino-kun, I will repay you properly."

"The best way to repay me is for you to stop doing bad things."

After hanging up the phone, he began packing his things.

Since you're going for medical treatment, you should prepare the necessary forms.

Commonly used assessment forms such as HAMD, MMPI, and SCL-90 are essential for comprehensively evaluating depression, schizophrenia, and personality.

Moreover, they must be mutually corroborated.

Otherwise, relying on a single scale, some people who are good at "faking mental illness" can make themselves be diagnosed with mental illness.

Just then, there was a knock on the door of the consultation room.

"Please come in."

The visitor was a middle-aged woman, dressed in a simple T-shirt and a light blue down jacket, with a snow-white cashmere scarf.

She sat somewhat awkwardly and timidly on the stool, not daring to look around.

As Fujino collected the forms, he said, "Please have a seat for a moment. I'll pack my things into my bag and then come take a look at them for you."

The voice behind him sounded somewhat familiar to Fujino: "Ano, you are...you are the gentleman who disappeared that day, right?"

"Hmm?" Fujino paused in his movements.

The gentleman who disappeared that day?

He quickly put the form down and turned back.

Sure enough, it was the same lady who had rapid breathing at Akihabara Station a few days ago.

"Ah, hello, this is our second meeting. Let me introduce myself." Fujino smiled and extended his hand. "Fujino Kazuhiko, I specialize in medicine."

The woman seemed to have regained her strength; she became bolder. She rose, bowed, and spoke in a loud voice.

"Megumi Kitano! Dr. Fujino, nice to meet you."

"Where do you feel unwell?" Fujino casually handed Kitano a few forms. "Is it the same problem as last time?"

Kitano Megumi clenched her fists: "I need your help. This matter is far too complicated."

Seeing Fujino nod slightly, Kitano Megumi slowly began to speak, starting from the beginning.

......

Sunday morning, the day we met at Akihabara Station.

Kitano Megumi still had to go to the ward office to work overtime.

She wasn't a formal employee, and temporary workers don't get overtime pay, but the project couldn't be delayed, so she had to find time to finish the remaining work herself.

Summary of the Ministry of Health, Labour and Welfare's Report on National Mental Health

These are the documents she needs to organize.

Not only is the data extensive, but the results are also alarming.

"Senior Kitano, how are your data going?" asked Shuji Goto, Kitano Megumi's apprentice and a full-time employee.

"This is outrageous, Goto-kun." Kitano Megumi looked at the data on the computer. "There are about 290 million mental patients in Japan, which means that almost one in every 40 people suffers from a mental illness."

"Tsk. So there's more than one person with problems on this floor." Goto scoffed.

"Not only that," Kitano Keisha flipped through the report, "but in America, it's one in three."

"So, the United States is still more advanced than us. Even their disease rate is far ahead!"

Kitano Megumi shook her head: "But you should know that Japan has the sixth highest suicide rate in the world, and the lowest among developed countries; the United States ranks twentieth in the world."

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear: "Is it better to have a high rate of mental illness diagnosis but a low suicide rate, or a low rate of diagnosis but a high suicide rate?"

Shuji Goto stood up and chuckled, "Come on, senpai, stop thinking about philosophical questions. The meeting's about to start, and you have to give a report."

Yes, life goes on, and philosophical questions are not within the scope of research on dispatched workers.

Kitano Megumi nodded, picked up the organized documents, and walked into the conference room.

Soon, it was her turn to give her report.

She stood up and set up the slides.

But just as she was about to speak, she felt a pang of heart palpitation.

The drawn curtains and the off energy-saving lights left only the slides emitting a soft white glow in the meeting room.

The oppressive atmosphere, the glint of light from the glasses of those around her, the sound of her breathing...

She felt like she couldn't breathe.

Breathe!

breathe!

call!

Kitano Megumi felt as if her consciousness was sinking into the deep sea.

......

When she woke up again, Kitano Megumi was lying in the hospital emergency room.

"Ms. Kitano?" The emergency room doctor adjusted his glasses. "You're perfectly healthy, there's nothing wrong with you."

"Impossible, Doctor... I remember I fainted."

Upon hearing this, the emergency room doctor glanced at Kitano Megumi over the top of his glasses and whispered, "Then I recommend you see a psychiatrist."

She hesitated.

A mentally ill person? Isn't that a madman?

Am I crazy? Are you kidding me?!

Kitano Megumi wandered aimlessly down the street and took a GG card that read "Yamamoto Psychological Clinic".

"A mental health clinic... is probably similar to a psychiatric clinic, right?"

She boarded the JR Joban Line train, which went directly to Yamamoto Clinic.

On the way, she felt a surge of heart palpitations return.

Why is it so dark inside this tram?

Why are the people around me breathing too?

Why are they looking at me?!

Breathe!

breathe!

call!

This time, before her consciousness sank into the deep sea, Kitano Megumi felt someone supporting her and helping her sit down.

She vaguely heard, "Could someone please exit the station... and call for medical personnel...? Thank you."

Kitano Megumi couldn't control her body from convulsing and spasming, her hands curling up like chicken claws.

My heart was involuntarily accelerating, accelerating, accelerating, accelerating.

She felt a slender hand press against her own, and a gentle voice said, "Madam, listen to me, I'm a doctor. Are you still conscious?"

Kitano Megumi nodded with all her might, as if grasping at the last straw.

"Come on, follow me, inhale—exhale—inhale—exhale—"

Following the guidance of the mysterious voice, Kitano Megumi slowed down her pace and adjusted her breathing.

Inhale—exhale—inhale—exhale—

She felt much calmer.

New power slowly begins to emerge deep within the body.

She gradually regained her mobility and opened her eyes.

I saw the back of that person wearing a black suit.

......

"Thank you so much! Fujino-san! I looked everywhere for you after I woke up, but I couldn't find you anywhere." Kitano Megumi was a little excited, holding Fujino's hand as if she had returned to the state of almost drowning.

"And then?" Fujino gently stroked Kitano Megumi's hand as he softly guided her to continue.

"My friend recommended the recently famous Yamamoto Clinic to me." A hint of displeasure flashed across Kitano Megumi's face. "The doctors there seem very professional, but the environment is still oppressive. The doctor who prescribed the medication didn't even look at me before saying I had some kind of anxiety disorder and just told me to go home and take my medication on time."

"Anxiety disorder?"

"Yes, but after taking the medicine for a few days, I'm not getting any better. I'm still afraid to take the train, and my head feels dizzy." Kitano Megumi unconsciously shed tears. "Now I have to ride my bicycle to and from get off work every day. It's so hopeless."

Yes, it's so frustrating. Having to cycle almost 20 kilometers to work every morning?

Is this the kind of life a human being should live?

And that Yamamoto clinic...

Fujino casually pulled out a few sheets of paper and handed them to Kitano Megumi.

She sobbed, "I heard that the psychiatry department at Southeast University Hospital is very good and it's close to home, so I wanted to come and see for myself."

A relieved smile appeared on Kitano Megumi's face: "Thank you! I'm so glad to have met you. Please help me!"

Fujino retrieved the form that Kitano Megumi had drawn while speaking, glanced at it briefly, and his expression became serious.

"To start with the conclusion, Ms. Kitano."

He wrote the name of the symptom on a piece of paper and handed it to Kitano Megumi: "Your symptom is called 'panic attack,' that's what it says."

"There are many causes for this condition, including family history, long-term stress, or psychological or mental illness."

Seeing Kitano Megumi's complicated expression, Fujino swallowed the words he hadn't finished saying.

The diagnosis made by Yamamoto Clinic was too arbitrary.

It can be very complex, but it should never be crudely equated with anxiety disorder.

His eyes flashed.

Was it intentional? Or accidental?