Chapter 6

This is a part of a modern history template for a web novel, focusing on a beriberi prevention plot.

"One day, while the family was having dinner, Yōko suddenly asked Shin'ichi, 'By the way, Onii-sama, what should we feed chickens?'"

"Well, grains like millet, foxtail millet, barnyard grass, or rice. Recently, some places have been feeding them corn," Shin'ichi replied.

"Hmm, it sounds just like commoners in the Edo period," Yōko mused.

After thinking for a moment, Yōko asked, "Then, if we only feed them rice, will the chickens get beriberi?"

"Hmm, I've never done that because it would be too wasteful..." Shin'ichi replied.

"About ten years ago, a Dutch hygienist named Eijkman conducted exactly that kind of experiment," Kiyotsugu interjected from the side. Yōko had explained to Kiyotsugu the importance of beriberi prevention and asked him to have one of his acquaintances, a military doctor, look into whether any experiments had been conducted to induce beriberi in animals.

"Oh! What were the results?" Yōko asked excitedly.

"Eijkman concluded that the chickens developed beriberi, similar to humans, and that they recovered when their diet was switched to brown rice, suggesting that rice bran is effective against beriberi," Kiyotsugu explained.

"Great! Then we just need to give the soldiers rice bran every day..." Yōko clapped her hands, her eyes shining.

"However, it's not that simple," Kiyotsugu said, dampening her enthusiasm.

"Professor Yasumichi Aoyama of the Tokyo Imperial University Medical Department conducted the same experiment and reported that the abnormalities in chickens fed only white rice were not beriberi," Kiyotsugu continued.

"Huh? Wasn't that just a failed experiment?"

Yōko, who knew the historical facts and was convinced that it had to be beriberi, or rather a vitamin B1 deficiency, felt a surge of anger towards Professor Aoyama, who was not present, and asked Kiyotsugu for confirmation.

"It seems that's not the case... I don't fully understand it, but he argues that while the symptoms are similar, the details are different, so it's not beriberi," Kiyotsugu explained.

"That's just sophistry. The body structures are different, so it's natural for the symptoms to be different," Yōko retorted.

"Yōko, even you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a cold, tuberculosis, and bronchitis, right? Similar symptoms can indicate different diseases. That's what he's saying," Shin'ichi tried to calm her down. He didn't understand why his sister was so determined about beriberi, but given her intelligence—she had invented a new type of fiber at the age of four—he assumed she had a plan.

In fact, it was already known that beriberi could be treated with barley, which contains more vitamin B1 than white rice. However, this was based on empirical evidence without a solid scientific basis, meaning there was no reliable treatment, which is why people feared it.

"Let's conduct our own experiment," Yōko said, still looking unhappy. While she wanted to leave the medical and nutritional aspects to the experts, she couldn't trust them in this case.

"That's a good idea. Shin'ichi, can you take care of the chickens for the experiment?" Kiyotsugu asked.

"I'm happy to take care of the birds again, but are we really going to do this?" Shin'ichi asked, wondering if it was appropriate to use the family's resources for this experiment involving a significant number of chickens and feed.

However, Kiyotsugu's support for Yōko wasn't just because she had explained the potential beriberi disaster in the future Russo-Japanese War.

"Beriberi also spread in the army during the First Sino-Japanese War and the Taiwan Expedition. I've heard about the tragic conditions back then. If the same thing happens in a war with a stronger country, it could be disastrous," Kiyotsugu explained.

"I see, then I can approach this with confidence," Shin'ichi said.

"Count on you. This experiment might be crucial for our country's future," Kiyotsugu added.

"Understood!" they both replied.

With their father's expectations on their shoulders, the siblings' challenge began.