Yamada from General Affairs had a problem. Ever since he was young, he had experienced heavy hair loss, and before he knew it, the top of his head was thinning, and his hairline had receded quite a bit.He had tried various treatments said to be good for hair growth, but none of them managed to restore Yamada's thinning hair. Topical medications were particularly terrible—they turned his scalp red and inflamed, making his condition even worse.
He had heard people say that thinning hair could be treated at a hospital, but he was far too embarrassed. He couldn't bring himself to visit a doctor over something as silly as hair loss.
He didn't want to wear a toupee, either. Going to work every day wearing a wig at this point in his life felt infinitely more embarrassing. He was sure everyone would just laugh at him.
While lost in these thoughts on his way to the restroom sink, he was spotted by Takao, the General Manager of the Overseas Sales Department.
"Hey there, Yamada! Still stressing about your thinning hair, huh?" Director Takao barked with a loud laugh.
"Uh... well..." Yamada felt a sting of irritation at how insensitive the man was being.
"I've got some good medicine. Want me to spare you a bit?"
"Oh, well... meds usually don't work for me... My scalp turns red, and I just don't react well to them..."
"Don't worry, it's an oral pill. ...To tell you the truth, I take it myself."
"Wait, you do, Director?" Yamada blurted out, staring intently at the man's head.
Indeed, for his age, Takao had a thick head of hair. Though streaked with gray, there wasn't a hint of thinning anywhere.
"I don't really get how it works myself, but apparently it was originally developed for a completely different condition. They noticed it restored hair growth in patients who took it, and now people are starting to call it a miracle drug for hair loss."
"Huh... There's really a pill like that?"
"I'll give you ten pills to try out. If it doesn't agree with you, you can just stop. Think of it as a sample."
"A sample... Are there any side effects...?"
"Haha. I've been taking it for about a year now, and I'm perfectly healthy. Though, if I had to say..."
"If you had to say?"
"My body hair got a little thicker, and I feel like my fingernails grow faster now."
"Body hair I can understand... but nails?"
With that, Yamada eyed the manager closely once more. Sure enough, his stubble was on the thicker side, and his sideburns were quite impressive—giving him an almost dignified air. As for his nails, they were neatly trimmed. ...Well, when nails grow, you just cut them. It was no big deal.
As for Yamada himself, he had naturally sparse body hair and smooth legs, which had always made him feel somewhat weak as a man. The idea of growing thicker hair didn't bother him at all.
"I guess hair and nails are both made of keratin or something, so since they share the same protein, they react the same way," the manager explained.
"Um... you said you take it every day, but what happens if you stop?"
"Ah, well, it seems to regulate the hair growth cycle. If you quit, after a while the cycle gets thrown off again, hair loss increases, and you revert back to how you were. I was so thrilled when my hair grew back that I got reckless and stopped taking it for a bit, but then my hair started falling out again. So I decided to just take it every day."
"Huh... But having to take it for the rest of your life... that sounds like a bit of a burden."
"Well, maybe so... but there's no need to take it so seriously, is there? Everyone goes bald as they get older anyway. Once you reach an age where balding looks natural on you, you can just quit the pills and embrace becoming a graceful old man." The manager laughed loudly again.
"R-Right, that makes sense. Nobody thinks twice about an old guy being bald."
"Alright, I'll bring the pills tomorrow. Look forward to it."
"Haha, well, if it actually works and grows my hair back, I'll definitely buy you a drink."
...Such was the secret conversation shared between two men in the breakroom restroom.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
The next day, Yamada received the medicine from Manager Takao as promised, and that night he tried taking one pill. One pill a day, taken before bed. It was a small yellow tablet, a bit smaller than an over-the-counter cold pill. "Can such a small dose really work...?" he wondered with slight suspicion, but he took it as recommended.
A week later, Yamada looked in the mirror and gasped. "It's... it's growing... It's actually growing!!"
Yamada had spent every single day staring into the mirror, battling his hair loss. He examined his scalp relentlessly, keeping track of where his bald spot had reached, which patches of hair remained, and where his scalp looked irritated.
And yet, right along his receded hairline—the danger zone—a lush fuzz of fine, tiny new hairs was sprouting up in abundance. Hairs he thought were gone forever were coming back.
"Whoaaaa!" Yamada cried out in pure joy. This pill was the real deal. It worked. There was no scalp inflammation either. This was incredibly promising!! But... but there were only three pills left from the manager.
If he stopped taking them now, this precious new growth would surely fall out without fully maturing. Yamada could not let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away. So that day, while giving Manager Takao an update, he asked if he could get more of the medicine.
"How about ten thousand yen for a bottle of a hundred pills?" the manager offered.
"T-Ten thousand yen...?" Yamada hesitated, torn by the high price—even if it was a remarkably effective drug.
"Well, truth is... this drug isn't sold in Japan yet. You know I was at our India branch until a year ago with Overseas Sales, right? I found out about this drug while I was over there, and I still privately import my own supply. It takes a lot of effort, shipping costs a bunch, and with the weak yen right now, ordering from overseas costs extra."
"I-I see... India, huh..." Yamada pictured the faces of Indian men in his head. "Come to think of it, you never really see bald Indian men, do you?"
"Right? When you think of a bald Indian guy, Gandhi is about the only one that comes to mind, isn't he?"
"Y-Yeah, I guess so..." (Wow, what a rude thing to say, Yamada thought to himself.)
After a brief internal struggle, Yamada couldn't bear the thought of letting his newly sprouted peach fuzz wither away. He handed over the ten thousand yen to the manager.
"Alright, I'll bring a hundred pills from my stash tomorrow. Sooner the better, right? Ordering a new batch from India would take two to three weeks."
"Thank you so much. I really appreciate it."
"Oh, and... keep this quiet, okay? It is a personal import, after all."
"Y-Yes, of course."
And so began the golden chapter of Yamada's life.
The soft fuzz grew steadily, becoming longer and thicker. Remarkably, Yamada's hair developed a slight wave to it. It was likely because his previously thin, fragile hairs were suddenly injected with energy, thickening mid-growth.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
One day, as promised, Yamada invited Manager Takao out for drinks. He dutifully kept his word to treat the manager once his hair grew back. Restoring his hair brought Yamada so much happiness that he felt nothing but profound gratitude toward Takao for telling him about the pills.
"First, a toast!" Their glasses clinked together.
"Man, thanks to you, Director, my years of worrying are finally over. Every day is so much fun now!"
"I'm glad to hear it, Yamada."
A variety of dishes were served between them.
"By the way, Yamada, you might already know this, but I'm being transferred to our Thailand branch soon. Once I move, I won't be able to share my pills with you anymore. So I'll teach you how to privately import them yourself. Once you get the hang of it, it's easy. I'll give you the contact info for the pharmaceutical company in India."
"Oh, really...? Okay. I'll give it a try."
And so, Yamada began importing the medication on his own.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
After a while, running low on his supply, Yamada imported the pills directly from the Indian pharmaceutical company just as Manager Takao had instructed.
However, the pills that arrived were white tablets, unlike the yellow ones he was used to. The packaging had changed as well.
Unsure if it was the correct medication, Yamada contacted the Indian pharmaceutical company, and after a whole week, he finally received a reply email. In short, they explained that the yellow dye previously used in the medication was found to be strongly carcinogenic, so they changed the colorant... a rather alarming revelation after the fact. That was all the email said—there was no mention of guarantees, compensation, or anything regarding the cancer risk. Yamada figured he couldn't exactly demand compensation since he hadn't actually developed cancer... Besides, the drug worked, and it was far too late to stop taking it now. He felt he had no choice but to accept it and move on.
Around that time, a major incident occurred at work. Manager Takao had gone missing. Just a few months after moving to the Thailand branch, he suddenly took sick leave, and then vanished without a trace... A complete disappearance.
The Thai police investigated the case from both accident and foul-play angles, including the possibility of kidnapping, but he had yet to be found.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Another year went by. Yamada continued to buy the medication from the Indian pharmaceutical company. And not just the hair growth pills—he imported and used all sorts of meds and supplements not available in Japan or possessing concentrations beyond anything sold locally, including amino acids and zinc supplements for hair health, as well as pills to suppress scalp inflammation.
The results were phenomenal. Yamada now had a full, thick head of hair, even offering to let skeptical coworkers pull on it to prove it wasn't a wig. He never mentioned the medication to anyone, claiming it was all due to changes in his daily lifestyle.
However, the aforementioned side effect... was unmistakably manifesting. It was different from before. Fine hair multiplied on his face, and his beard grew much faster. His body hair thickened, and chest hair began sprouting where there had been none before. His nails were growing at an alarming rate as well.
Still, as long as he groomed himself daily, he could easily manage it.
...Until yesterday.
The first abnormality he noticed was on the sole of his foot. As he tried to curl up under his blanket to sleep, the blanket's fibers caught on the bottom of his foot, sending a sharp, sudden pain shooting through him. He didn't think much of it, assuming a blanket fiber had caught on a patch of dry skin.
The next day at work, a sharp pain shot through his fingertip. While organizing documents, the edge of a piece of paper brushed against his finger, catching on something as it slid past.
"Did I get a splinter?" he thought. Looking closer, he saw a tiny protrusion at the tip of his finger. It was barely a millimeter long, but rubbing against it backward caused a jolt of pain.
He wanted to pull it out, but there were no tweezers or fine forceps at the office, so he left it alone and went home.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
By the time Yamada returned home after working overtime, the protrusion on his fingertip had grown to about two millimeters. At first, he thought he could pluck it out with tweezers, but it wouldn't budge. It wasn't a splinter embedded in his flesh—something was clearly growing out from beneath his skin.
He remembered how, as a child, he had used a needle to prick open the top layer of skin and extract a deep splinter. He thought about trying that, but Yamada didn't sew and had no needles in his apartment. Searching for an alternative, he decided he might be able to use the tip of a box cutter blade to dig out the splinter-like growth.
He carefully inserted the blade into the base of the protrusion, aiming to slice just through the thin outer layer of skin. There was a faint prick of pain, but he felt it catch. Yamada successfully removed the protrusion. The thin, two-millimeter object was translucent and hard; he couldn't crush it between his fingers. When he tried cutting it with the utility knife, it snapped off with a sharp click. Nothing leaked from the cross-section—it was simply a hard substance just barely soft enough to cut with a blade.
Next was the sole of his foot. ...Checking the spot where he had felt pain the other night, he found the exact same protrusion as the one on his finger. This one had already grown to about three millimeters.
Bending down, Yamada pressed the utility blade into the bottom of his foot. The protrusion came out cleanly.
Relieved, Yamada fell into a deep sleep. ...Throughout the night, he scratched furiously at his body in his sleep. Unbeknownst to him, his body was already attempting to fight off the abnormality.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
The next morning, Yamada woke up to the realization that he was unconsciously scratching himself all over. His arms were itchy... his legs were itchy... his chest, his head, everything was itching... The intense itchiness made him leap out of bed.
"What the hell?! God, it's so itchy!!"
His arms appeared to be covered in a bumpy rash.
Assuming there were bedbugs in his mattress, he rushed to the bathroom mirror to examine the rash. But what he saw wasn't a rash. The protrusions that had appeared on his fingertip and foot—dozens of them were now sprouting all over his arms, which he had mistaken for bumps.
They were on his legs, his chest, around his neck, behind his ears. And when he ran his fingers through his hair, a chill ran down his spine. On his scalp, there were dozens... no, maybe over a hundred. A massive cluster of tiny protrusions...
As Yamada stared at his mutated body in numb shock, a horrifying realization crossed his mind.
"Could these... could these be miniature fingernails...?!"
Nails... fingernails... claws... The word spun endlessly inside his head.
The hair growth medication caused nails to grow faster as a side effect. He had taken a drug suspected of being carcinogenic for nearly a year... He had abused other drugs and supplements in excessive quantities... Had the side effect mutated, causing nails to grow all over his body instead of hair??
"Haa... haa... haa..." Gasping for air, he panicked as horror overtook him.
He stumbled into the living room and collapsed heavily onto the sofa. He sat there frozen, unable to process what was happening.
"R-Right... I need to call in sick today." He called his company to report off sick for the day.
Yamada tried to think logically.
How many solutions were there...? Let's list them out. Option one: dig them out one by one with a blade like yesterday... That would take an eternity, and he couldn't reach or see every part of his body. Besides, even if he dug them out, wouldn't they just grow back...?
Option two: run away. Flee somewhere isolated where no one could see him... Don't be ridiculous. Where in Japan could a person possibly live like that...?
Option three: suicide... Just end it all and reset everything... Besides, he couldn't bear the thought of anyone seeing him like this. If he went through with it, maybe he should douse himself in gasoline and burn everything to ashes...
Option four: go to the hospital... A dermatologist, maybe? But after rejecting medical care for so long, importing unauthorized drugs from abroad, and running to them only when side effects appeared... it was shameless. He brought this on himself. Any doctor would be thoroughly disgusted with him. And what would the treatment even be? They wouldn't tear out every single one of these nails across his entire body, would they...? That would be pure torture...
Yamada trembled in terror at his own imagination.
"Ngh... my eyes itch... feels like there's grit in them..."
"Ngh... my mouth... tiny bumps are starting to sprout inside my mouth too..."
Yamada's symptoms were progressing rapidly. The nails were now bursting through his mucous membranes.
"N-No... If I don't hurry, I won't even be able to open my eyes or speak..."
Left with no alternative, Yamada called a dermatologist he had consulted once years ago. ...To his relief, the doctor offered to make a house call.
Filled with relief, Yamada lay down on his bed.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
The hospital eventually notified Yamada's company that he had been emergency hospitalized due to an illness. The duration of his stay was indefinite, and all visitors were strictly prohibited. As this state continued for six months... then a year... with zero communication, the company ultimately terminated Yamada's employment.
Another year after that. At a medical conference, a research paper was presented on a human patient whose body hair had been entirely replaced by nails. It was only the second recorded case in the world, following the first in Thailand.
Yamada's body was chopped into tiny pieces and distributed to doctors around the world as research samples.