Danganronpa Extra Life

Bringing her to Life

He bent and scooped Nanami into his arms in a macabre parody of a bridal carry. In normal circumstances, someone in her condition should either be moved via flat surface like a stretcher or not moved at all, but Izuru didn't have a stretcher on hand, and it would be far too time-consuming to fetch the apparatus to save her and bring them back. Trying to jostle her as little as possible, he set off down the hall at a sprint.

The part of the complex he'd been held in was spartan, made up of just the lab where he'd been "born", a storage room that held food and other necessities, a clinic, and the room he'd stayed in when he wasn't being tested—he could scarcely call it a bedroom. The clinic was there mostly in case something happened to him during his transformation or during testing, and was stocked with anything related to medical care, from Band-Aids to vaccines to surgical equipment. It was here Izuru arrived at seconds later, kicking the door open and laying Nanami down on the first cot he saw.

Izuru's hand snapped over to the thermostat on the wall, raising it to warm Nanami before she experienced hypothermia. Now: assess and prioritize. He slipped an oxygen mask on her, not trusting her shallow breaths. Then he slid several pillows under her legs to elevate them, so blood would have an easier time flowing back to her heart. 

Replenishing her blood volume was the next step. Izuru reached into a cabinet and began pulling down the equipment for a blood transfusion. With the amount she lost, she'll need multiple transfusions...what's her blood type?

His hands paused for a few seconds as he realized he didn't know.

He could have transfused some of his own blood into her body, but his blood type was A—not O, the universal donor. If she were an A or an AB, she would be fine if she took his blood. If she were a B or an O, she would definitely die.

Fifty percent odds were unacceptable. So Izuru went for the second option: blood substitutes. An academy full of as many talented people as Hope's Peak would naturally lead many fields, including science, and over the years had created successful solutions that simulated the properties of real blood. They were no long-term replacement, but they were suitable for usage in emergency trauma situations, such as this one. There were several packets also in this lab, and Izuru grabbed one and returned to Nanami's side. Swiftly, he attached it to an IV and injected it into a vein along her elbow. As the IV fed the artificial blood into her body, he quickly fetched a crystalloid solution that would increase circulatory volume, helping the precious oxygen flow. This too was intravenously inserted into Nanami's unconscious form.

Next, Izuru checked pulse and blood pressure again, swiftly hooking up her to a digital monitor. His eyes narrowed minutely when he noted they were fluttering, fading. He administered a dose of norepinephrine to increase blood pressure and aid her heart's pumping. Almost impatiently, he stared at the monitor, waiting for the readings. Only when it informed him her vitals were weak, but holding, did he relax. He'd just barely clocked in under three minutes; good. There was always the risk of complications creating brain damage, but this gave her the highest chance of full cognitive recovery.

He paused long enough to catch his breath and run over what needed to be done next. Internal bleeding. He needed to check for internal bleeding and perform surgery if there was. With the location and approximate severity of her injuries...a supine chest x-ray and FAST ultrasound on the abdomen are the first priorities. The black-haired man hurried to fetch the appropriate equipment.

The radiography revealed three punctured organs—lung, spleen, and intestines. Izuru paused only as long as necessary to put on the proper surgical equipment, and then he went to work.

Between treating the pneumothorax in her right lung, suturing her intestines and spleen, performing a head CT scan, monitoring her vitals, swapping her IVs when they ran out, changing her dressings when blood soaked through, and washing and stitching her wounds, it was more than six hours before the artificial Ultimate Hope was done. He was out of breath and up to his elbows in blood. His blazer was torn to shreds, the rest of his clothing was terribly bloodstained, and he looked more rumpled than he could remember ever possibly being. But he was successful, and his stitches as he closed the final incisions were neat and precise.

He felt drained as he went through the final stages of the treatment, giving Nanami a dosage of antibiotics to prevent septic shock and checking her vitals one final time. They were within acceptable parameters. And that was that—he was now gazing down at a weak but alive Nanami Chiaki.