Falling up

The changes in Hideo-sensei’s behavior and appearance started soon after that weekend. While I have never seen him with the vial following that night, I strongly suspect that the transformations had something to do with its contents. The first thing I noticed the following week was that the nervous twitch in his eyes was gone, as if some kind of internal stressor has finally been absolved.

That week we had court, as we did more than half the weeks of any given year, because of the huge number of cases against Caduceus. This was one of many lawsuits concerning the ongoing opioid epidemic, which our company had a large part in causing. As with many times before, Hideo-sensei, as a senior medical researcher, was brought in to provide expert testimony for our products’ safety. The judge had long been receiving bribes through our company’s ghost payroll, so the cases always resolved in our favor, and the whole process was little more than a theatrical performance, in which the veteran players played their parts almost mechanically.

But this time was different.

When Hideo-sensei took the stand, he seemed calmer, more collected, and even a little bit taller. He no longer tried to avert his gaze like he was used to doing, but looked straight in front of him, or perhaps slightly upwards.

When the prosecutor asked Hideo-sensei if he was aware about the dangers of the company’s medication, he softly answered in the affirmative, which led the prosecutor and the judge to do a double take. Asked to elaborate, the expert witness explained in detail how the company routinely pushed opioids onto the market by slightly altering the formulas of its medications, or their methods of administration and release, just enough to qualify as a new drug under government guidelines, but fundamentally being the same addictive, life-destroying substances known to humanity for centuries.

The judge tried to interrupt the testimony, shocked that Hideo-sensei would blow up their operation like that, yet was silenced by a single look from the researcher, who he knew had the power to drag him down as well.

The prosecutor, who had tried and failed to hold Caduceus accountable many times, couldn’t believe his luck, and scrambled for his notes, which contained all the follow-up questions he wanted to ask in the past but was never allowed to, as the judge always sustained any objections by the defense.

As per my job, I should have objected to the line of questioning, however I was dumbstruck by what was happening, and either way, I could feel that this time the judge would allow the legitimate follow-ups, which he had routinely suppressed in the past.

Hideo-sensei exposed the whole operation, as well as the involvement of the members of the board behind the deliberately manufactured opioid crisis. He appeared perfectly serene while doing it and even volunteered information that the prosecutor didn’t know to ask about. Towards the end, the prosecutor’s initial cold, aggressive approach had melted, and he seemed more like a student listening to a teacher explain the hidden workings of the world.

By then the court room was silent apart from the dialogue carried on between the prosecutor and Hideo-sensei, which became like a later Platonic dialogue, where it’s mostly just Socrates talking, with his interlocutor just says things like “truly” and “that’s so wise.”

It was then that I noticed that Hideo-sensei’s nervous tick was gone, and the tension was starting to drain from his face.

I cannot be certain about this part, as I only noticed it towards the end of the testimony, but from where I was looking, it also seemed like Hideo-sensei was levitating half an inch or so above his seat.

The blowback from the case was near instantaneous, as news sources across the world leapt at the pharma giant’s sudden and definitive admission of guilt. Caduceus was obviously furious, though they couldn’t exactly fire somebody for telling the truth under oath in court. However, Hideo-sensei had no wish to stay on either, so an arrangement was soon reached, wherein he resigned with a severance package equaling 3 years’ pay, which given his salary after decades at the company, was well in the seven figures range.

The next phase of the fallout was the expected revocation of Hideo-sensei’s medical license. After all, in bringing down everyone around him, he had admitted to knowingly causing harm, and as such was accused of violating of the Hippocratic oath. Hideo-sensei pointed out that the oath also precluded doctors from using blades to operate on people, performing abortions, or knowingly giving deadly drugs to patients, and as such, most of the doctors he knew broke the oath in one form or another. He also pointed out how the oath was made in the name of Apollo, Asclepius, Hygeia, and Panaceia, not the caduceus-wielding Hermes, whom most medical professionals worshipped today.

Still, after saying what he wanted to say, he symbolically burned his medical license during a press conference, along with his many diplomas, and said that he denounced all his degrees, that from here on he no longer wished to be referred to with the honorific “sensei,” and that he now adopted the name Jōkei, which apparently was his dharma name, chosen in honor of a certain medieval Japanese monk.

By the end of the press conference it seemed like the toxic grin that disfigured his face for years had relaxed into a soft smile, as if he was no longer trying to force it into a false semblance of professional civility, but could finally just be himself. His hunched posture also appeared to straighten, his shoulders spreading, like the wings of a bird that had long since forgotten it could fly.

With each title, degree, and responsibility he now shed, it looked like so many burdens were removed from his back. After decades of being crooked forward, as if weighed down by the size of his head, he suddenly stood straight, with his chest opened and his heart, exposed, leading the way.

It was probably just a trick of the light, since it was already nearing sunset when the conference was over, but it looked as if a faint halo appeared around his head.

While Hideo-sensei, that is, Jōkei-san did not ask anything of anyone during the conference, there were several Caduceus employees that came out to join him at the end, throwing their company IDs onto the fire, voicing their disgust with the company, and pledging their support to Jōkei -san.

I wish I could say I was one of them.