tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9187708134863121132024-03-13T15:30:24.902-04:00Nostalgia on 9th AvenueA Japanese novel translation blog9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comBlogger121125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-68001782861980979652030-01-01T00:00:00.000-05:002018-04-27T20:35:27.741-04:00[Sticky]<b>This blog is currently inactive and I will not be taking requests for future projects.</b><br />
<br />
Unfortunately due to time constraints I cannot see myself taking projects in the future. Thank you for reading my existing projects!<br />
<br />
Utsukushii Koto has moved to <a href="http://isolarium.wordpress.com">Wordpress</a>.<br />
No. 6 and Hako no Naka will remain on here.<br />
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</ul>9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-59944563958779616012013-11-22T23:59:00.000-05:002013-11-24T19:05:21.704-05:00Updates on Utsukushii Koto / ThoughtsThis will be my post for my attempts at getting Utsukushii Koto legally licensed and translated.<br />
<br />
[updated] tl;dr - I am too impatient and fed up to continue this attempt and have reuploaded the scripts elsewhere.<br />
<br />
<center><h2>Latest:<br />
22 November 2013</h2></center>I apologize for the extended silence! It has taken me a while to contact Kodansha for reasons I will elaborate on below, but I sent them an e-mail yesterday and this is what I got in reply today:<a name='more'></a><br />
<blockquote>-----------------------------------------<br />
Thank you for your e-mail. <br />
I am [name] from Kodansha International Rights. Thank you for your inquiry to [the manager] and your expression of passion concerning English translations for <i>Utsukushii Koto.</i><br />
<br />
Unfortunately, we are still doing our best to market the rights for an English version of this title, and at this point, there has been no decision to transfer them to a local English publisher yet. If this title is licensed, the person in charge will share with you information about which publisher it has been licensed to. <br />
<br />
However, ultimately we leave it to the publisher who has bought the license to select the translator. Although we cannot guarantee that you will be designated, I would very much encourage you to speak to local publishers with the same passion you have shown us.<br />
<br />
I hope you will forgive me for my indefinite answer.<br />
-----------------------------------------</blockquote><br />
A while later, I got an e-mail from his boss.<br />
<br />
<blockquote>-----------------------------------------<br />
Hello,<br />
<br />
I would like to add a few things to what [the previous person] said.<br />
<br />
Japanese agents and companies normally do not assign translators when rights are sold. Local publishers often assign translators with whom they work regularly. Even if the Japanese side recommends a translator, it does not mean that the translator will be chosen.<br />
<br />
Generally, translators are chosen by the publisher who will be publishing the translated title. If you wish for your translations to be used in a foreign edition for a particular title, you must contact the overseas publisher.<br />
<br />
However, in that case, you are faced with another problem of whether the author wishes it. As for "Utsukushii Koto", Kodansha does not own the first rights. Foreign editions are usually marketed to the publisher who has published the first edition. In other cases, translations may be brought in for consideration to translation agents, or the author may market the title on his/her own.<br />
I cannot say what the author's viewpoint is on this process.<br />
<br />
The last e-mail may have been a little vague in expression, but the reality is that it is very difficult to propose to translate a specific work to an overseas licenser.<br />
<br />
If you wish to be active as a translator in Japan, I think the shortcut would be marketing English-to-Japanese translations to Japanese publishers.<br />
-----------------------------------------</blockquote><br />
To tell you the truth, I have been quite skeptical about this process from the beginning. But the fact that the manager himself has felt it necessary to drive the point home that it is "very difficult" basically sounds like he is telling me I might as well give up because there is no point. He even seems to imply that I inquired about Utsukushii Koto because I was in it for some kind of business opportunity. <br />
<br />
Ever since the idea of publication was suggested to me, I have thought and thought about why I fan-translate. Why do something that is ultimately illegal, disrespects the author and bastardizes her work without permission? Why not have it legally licensed so that the author can get due credit and it can be printed and distributed properly? Because it isn't guaranteed. Because publishers might take a look at it, decide it's not worth publishing, and never pick it up again.<br />
<br />
I am not justifying what I do. If I had the guts, the patience, and the righteousness to continue to fight to have more titles legally licensed and translated, I would have. But I have none of those things. I translate, and have always translated, because I want to share with people the kind of works that have left a lasting mark on me. But when it comes to the method of sharing, my passion does not take me very far. I cannot help but choose the quick and dirty way, which is the Internet.<br />
<br />
Maybe I will make another attempt at publication. But it will not be with this title.<br />
<br />
The translations are back up now, but not on this site. I will only say that they're on Wordpress, and that a bit of Googling will turn them up.<br />
<br />
For the many of you who have left kind comments in the last post, this post will probably answer your questions (but I will be responding to unanswered questions individually). For those of you who have e-mailed me, huge apologies. I hope to start responding to everyone tomorrow.<br />
<br />
<center>------------------ older updates ------------------<br />
<br />
<h2>9 November 2013</h2></center>I apologize for the sudden notice, everyone. As of today, I have suspended the project <i>Utsukushii Koto</i> (Of Beauty). <br />
<br />
I hate to do this in the middle of a project, but I am currently looking into the possiblity of having these translations published (legally). I have decided to keep the translations off the Internet while this is going on, as it would probably reflect badly on me if they are found. <br />
<br />
There is nothing I can do about cached copies floating on the web, but I figure it's better than doing nothing.<br />
<br />
I understand this is frustrating for readers who have followed this blog so far. Again, I can only say I am sorry that I have ended up cutting this project short like this. Thank you for all of your support so far, and I hope to keep you updated on the progress of this endeavour.<br />
<br />
As for future projects, since I will continue to translate <i>Utsukushii Koto</i> on my free time (to possibly submit as a manuscript) I will not be able to take on any additional novels at this time.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-59061226366522967472013-09-30T01:35:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.421-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box / Summer Vacation - Pt. 3This is a continuation of <a href="9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-summer-vacation_23.html">PART 2</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Mom bought tickets for two people and went through the ticket gates. The last train had just gone, and we had about twenty minutes until the next one arrived. No one else was on the platform except for Mom and I.<br />
<p>I clutched the fireworks tightly as I sat on the bench. Mom put her arms around my shoulders and rested her cheek against my head, looking out over the ocean from the platform.<br />
<p>“Mom, why did you start hating Dad?”<br />
<p>Mom’s fingers twitched on my shoulders.<br />
<p>“...I don’t hate him.”<br />
<p>“Then why did you and Dad divorce?”<br />
<p>She wouldn’t answer me.<br />
<p>“Dad is so nice, though.”<br />
<p>Mom slapped me in the face. In my surprise, I let go of the paper bag, and it tumbled to the ground. The fireworks scattered about my feet. Mom’s lips were twisted and she looked like she was about to cry.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“Don’t you think I know that?” Mom covered her face with her hands and curled up. “I know he’s kind.”<br />
<p>Mom was crying. Even though she was the one who hit me, I felt like I was somehow at fault. Watching Mom cry like that made me feel sad, too, and I cried a little while I picked the fireworks off the ground.<br />
<p>People gradually began to gather on the train platform. Mom wasn’t crying anymore. She stroked my cheek and said, “I’m sorry for hitting you.”<br />
<p>The train came in. Lots of kids came off, holding hands with their moms and dads. Maybe they were going to the beach.<br />
<p>I loved my mom, but I wished I could play a bit longer with Dad and Mister. I wished I’d been able to go to the haunted house―the thought made tears well up in my eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>After his summer vacation ended, Nao told his friends about his gentle dad and funny old Mister. Before, he’d been jealous of kids who talked about their dads, but he didn’t feel jealous anymore. <i>My parents are divorced, but I have a really nice dad. I love him lots.</i> Nao was able to say so proudly. And he was happy that he could say so. The hat that his dad bought for him became his biggest treasure, and he wore it wherever he went.<br />
<p>“Next summer, I want to visit Dad’s place again,” Nao told his mother one day. His mother, who had refused to tell him his father’s name before, shook her head and said, “Absolutely not.” But Nao refused to give up. He wanted to see his dad and Mister again.<br />
<p>At first, his mother got upset to the point of hysterics.<br />
<p>“Do you like your father that much? Do you like him more than me?” she had said shrilly, but in the end, she gave in to Nao’s persistence and tenacity, and agreed that he could visit them for three days only during the summer holidays.<br />
<p>For every summer vacation after that year, Nao visited the town by the sea where his father’s house was. For the three days that Nao was over, his dad and Mister both took time off work, and spent all of their time with him as if to make up for the rest of the year that they had not seen each other. He swam in the ocean, walked Ao, and gave tinned cat food as a peace offering to Shiro, who now completely hated him; he lit fireworks on the porch, went to the summer festival going on in the next town―three days passed in a flash.<br />
<p>Mister was more fun to play with. Dad usually stood by and watched, but Mister took their games very seriously. He seemed genuinely disappointed whenever he lost to Nao.<br />
<p>Although Nao only visited for three days during his summer holidays, he talked over the phone a lot with Mister and his father. Once he got into middle school, he began to turn to his dad for advice rather than his mom. There were things he didn’t feel comfortable discussing with his mother, and his mother was busy enough managing the day’s worth of household chores that she had no time or energy to listen to her son.<br />
<p>A lot of the time, Mister answered the phone. Once in a while, Nao would get so carried away chatting with him that he would forget what he had called to talk to his father about.<br />
<p>Soon after Nao entered eighth grade, his mother broke a piece of news to him.<br />
<p>“There’s someone special in my life.”<br />
<p>His mother’s new lover came as a considerable shock to Nao, who had been secretly wishing that his mother and father would patch up their relationship. He was so shocked, before he could think, he found himself making a phone call. Dad was silent for a while on the other end.<br />
<p>“Nao.” His voice was quiet and calm. “I think it’s a good thing that your mother has found someone she loves.”<br />
<p>“But then that means you won’t...”<br />
<p>“I’m sorry, Nao, but I have no plans to get back together with your mother again.”<br />
<p>The fact that there was no chance for repair shocked Nao more than his mother’s new lover.<br />
<p>“Wh―why...”<br />
<p>“It’s hard to explain, but... we just can’t get back together. But that won’t change the fact that you’re my son on the register. Things didn’t work out between your mother and I, but I do want your mother to be happy.”<br />
<p>Nao was relieved to hear those words. He knew now for certain that even though his mother had gotten a new boyfriend, and even if that person were to become his new father, Dad would always be his one and only real father.<br />
<p>In May, his mother, her boyfriend, and Nao dined together. The man’s name was Hiroyuki Taguchi, and he was three years older than Dad. In the beginning, Nao could tell that Taguchi was extremely nervous around him―a child―and it made him feel bad. But once Taguchi had a few drinks, Nao soon found out that he was a talkative, cheerful man who laughed a lot. He was kind of like a cross between Dad and Mister.<br />
<p>They ate together four times after that. After their fourth meal, Taguchi brought up the topic with a nervous air.<br />
<p>“Would it be alright for you if your mother and I got married?” he asked. Dad’s face crossed Nao’s mind. Taguchi was not a bad person. <i>But he doesn’t have to be my father</i>, Nao thought. <br />
<p>Nao’s mother watched him worriedly at his lack of an answer. There was no chance of reconciliation with his father. Dad had said that he wanted Nao’s mother to be happy. Nao also wanted his mother to be happy.<br />
<p>“Yes. Please take good care of her.” Nao looked Taguchi in the eye and slowly bowed his head.<br />
<p>Taguchi and his mother got married in July. There was no ceremony; they only entered into Taguchi’s register and moved into a slightly more spacious condominium.<br />
<p>Nao Takamura became Nao Taguchi, and even though his new father was always around the house like a father should be, Nao couldn’t bring himself to call Taguchi “Dad”. Nao had his own stiff resolve that Douno would be the only father for him. Taguchi was cheerful and kind, but he was not Nao’s real father. He was just a man who lived with them. In Nao’s mind, he was always “Mom’s husband”.<br />
<p>Right after his term-end exams and before his summer holidays, Nao told his mother that he would be going to Dad’s place from August 6th to the 8th this year. His mother wore an unusual, strange expression.<br />
<p>“Why?”<br />
<p>“What do you mean, why? I go every year.”<br />
<p>“Your father’s right here at home.”<br />
<p>Nao felt slightly offended at his mother’s statement. It was like she’d forgotten about his dad in Kanagawa.<br />
<p>“Yeah, but there’s only one person I’ll call my father.”<br />
<p>Sensing her son’s irritation, his mother began to say something―then lowered her gaze.<br />
<p>“...I know you’re attached to him, Nao, but that’s rude to your new father. You haven’t called Mr. Taguchi ‘Dad’ yet, have you?”<br />
<p>Nao suddenly felt awkward. It was true that he’d been feeling guilty towards not calling Taguchi “Dad”.<br />
<p>“But Mr. Taguchi says he doesn’t mind what I call him. He said he wouldn’t force it on me.”<br />
<p>“Yes, but deep down, he does want you to call him Dad. Of course he would.”<br />
<p>Nao bit down on his lip.<br />
<p>“I do feel bad for Mr. Taguchi, but I want to see Dad, too. I only get to see him once a year.”<br />
<p>“Don’t go this year, okay? Let’s go on a trip with the three of us instead,” his mother said gently as if to parley with him. <br />
<p>“I don’t want a trip. Just let me go to Dad’s house.”<br />
<p>“I <i>said</i> you are not to go this year!”<br />
<p>“I'm still going!”<br />
<p>Nao insisted on going while his mother insisted that he would not; it became a battle of wills. In the end, Nao left without getting permission from his mother. He said he was going to his grandmother’s place, but headed to his father’s place instead.<br />
<p>Nao liked his father’s old rented house and its ambiance. He exited the station, went through the deserted shopping district, and crossed the small bridge. He felt a sort of relief when he saw the fence of the rented house in the distance.<br />
<p>In reality, the house was old, the creaking of the hallway got worse every year, and when Mister cooked dinner it was curry every time, but even so.... Ao barked while Nao napped in the room with the table. Shiro approached him cautiously, apparently finally ready to forgive him. <br />
<p>The following year, Nao went to his father’s house again during the summer holidays. His mother no longer told him not to go.<br />
<p>“Keep quiet to Hiroyuki about this,” she said to him. So Nao did not tell Taguchi that he was going to see his real father over the holidays.<br />
<p>In the autumn of Nao’s ninth grade, his little brother was born, bringing a rush of hustle and bustle to his home. His little brother was always in a good mood, laughed often, and became very attached to Nao, who took care of him often in the place of his busy mother. Soon, his brother began to talk in broken words. Nao worried that his brother might find it weird that he always called Taguchi “Mr. Taguchi”, and so began to call him “Dad” instead. The first time he said “Dad” to Taguchi, the man, who had been talking and laughing until that moment, suddenly began to cry. Nao was startled. Although Taguchi had always said he didn’t mind what Nao called him, it had probably bothered him that he was never called “Dad.” <i>I must’ve given him a hard time</i>, Nao thought in regret.<br />
<p>At the beginning of eleventh grade, Nao went through career guidance. He wrote that he wished to go into the faculty of arts of a private university, but his mother did not seem too keen. The fact that it was a private school seemed to be an issue, and even if Nao explained to her that there was a specific professor whose lecture he wanted to take, his mother only looked at him worriedly and asked, “But what are you going to study?” His career guidance teacher warned him that females were usually the ones who intended to go into the faculty of arts, and he also warned Nao that arts would limit his career options. Everyone around him seemed to say it was a bad idea. This made Nao uncertain. Private schools had high tuition, and his little brother would cost their family a lot of money in the coming years as well. “Do what you want to do,” Taguchi had said, when Nao had gone to him for advice. But later, he overheard Taguchi telling his mother that he thought it would be a better idea for Nao to go into finance or science and technology.<br />
<p>After an endless cycle of weighing his options, Nao finally went to his father for advice. His father asked Nao what school and faculty he wished to get into, asked him why, then hung up the phone, telling him he would call back tomorrow or the day after. Two days later, Nao’s father called his cell phone.<br />
<p>“You should go to the university you’re aiming for,” he said.<br />
<p>“Why?”<br />
<p>“Well, you want to go, don’t you?”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but...”<br />
<p>“What happened to your enthusiasm?” Dad laughed. “I researched that university you were talking about, Nao, and... well, now I know what you want to study and the professor you want to learn from. If you have a goal as clear as that, I don’t have a reason to say no. I’m actually envious that you have such a clear-cut goal.”<br />
<p>“Really?” Nao couldn’t help but ask at the unexpected answer.<br />
<p>“I went to university without really knowing why. I think choosing a flexible faculty is one way to do it if you have no idea what you want to learn, but you’re not like that. I think it’s a wonderful thing that you have a goal.”<br />
<p>“B-But Mom doesn’t really seem to get it, and the guidance teacher told me it would limit my options.”<br />
<p>“That might be true, but you really like that professor, don’t you, Nao? That feeling of liking something, enjoying something, is going to give you strength in life. As long as you stay true to what you like, I’m sure it’ll work out. Besides, we humans aren’t as good at faking ourselves as we think we are. I’m sure it would be stressful for you to work hard at something you don’t like.”<br />
<p>His father’s words swept everything away, even the uncertainty that had been settling in Nao’s own heart. His father did not merely say “yes” without meaning it, like Taguchi. He thought everything out well before giving his opinion. He was not neglectful of his words. Nao knew it wasn’t right to compare the two, but he couldn’t help it. <i>Taguchi doesn’t try to have a serious discussion with me. It’s almost like he’s afraid of being disliked.</i><br />
<p>Now free of uncertainty, in the winter of his third year of high school, Nao applied to the private university in Tokyo he had been longing to go to, and was accepted. As he searched for a place to live, Nao began to wonder if it would be possible to stay at his father’s house. Although the university was in Tokyo, it was more on the west side. When Nao looked it up, it was quite close to his father’s house. The trip was less than thirty minutes by train. It was well within commuting distance.<br />
<p>Although Nao had defied his parents to get into this university in order to learn from a particular professor, the financial aspect of going to a private school still bothered him. He planned to work a part-time job on the side, of course, but if he could save money on rent by living with his father, he was sure it would help his family’s finances greatly.<br />
<p>His father’s rented house was old and worn, but it had a good number of rooms. Nao knew that they had a room that they only used for storage, containing piles of boxes. Nao also knew that since getting remarried, his mother had become even more disapproving of Nao going to his father’s place. But Nao was almost graduating high school and going to university. He felt like he should at least be free to visit his real father. His mother always said it would offend Taguchi, but Taguchi was a good man. Nao felt like Taguchi would understand if he explained how he felt.<br />
<p>That day, Nao was playing with his little brother in his lap as his mother made dinner.<br />
<p>“Mom, about where I’m going to stay in Tokyo,” he began.<br />
<p>“Did you find a good place? Or should we go together to a real estate agent first beforehand?” His mother answered with her back to him, her knife making steady chopping sounds against the cutting board.<br />
<p>“Yeah, about that... I’m thinking of staying over at Dad’s place.”<br />
<p>The chopping stopped. His mother turned around.<br />
<p>“By ‘Dad’, you mean...”<br />
<p>“Dad in Kanagawa. My university’s out west, so it’s pretty close, and Dad has an extra room. You know how high my tuition will be because my school’s private. I’ll get a part-time job, but I’ll be able to save money on rent, too, if I stay over at his house.”<br />
<p>“What are you saying?” His mother’s expression was a cross between anger and reluctance.<br />
<p>“I’m serious,” Nao said. “I think Mr. Taguchi will agree. He’s understanding. Besides, I’m going into university now. I think I can decide things for myself.”<br />
<p>His mother furrowed her brow and bent her finger slightly at her lips.<br />
<p>“But... Mr. Kitagawa lives in that house, too.”<br />
<p>“Oh, right. But I don’t think Mister will mind if I’m there. I haven’t talked to Dad about this yet, though. I wanted to tell you first.”<br />
<p>There was a strange pause as they simply stared at each other. Although Nao had made a pretence of asking his mother for input, he was already ninety-percent sure that he would be staying at his father’s house. The remaining ten percent that would possibly prevent him was Taguchi’s refusal.<br />
<p>His mother washed her hands, and came down to sit at the dining table across from Nao. <i>She’s serious about not letting me go</i>, Nao thought, and put himself on guard.<br />
<p>“I will not allow you to stay at Douno’s house.” It was almost a command. Nao felt a twinge of irritation that he wasn’t even being given a chance to discuss it.<br />
<p>“It’s not for you to decide whether I’m allowed to go or not. If Mr. Taguchi and Dad say yes, I’m going to stay there.”<br />
<p>“Why does always it have to be Douno?” his mother accused shrilly. “Are you saying you like him more than Hiroyuki?!”<br />
<p>Nao hated his mother’s emotional interrogations. She had asked him the same question over and over since he was little.<br />
<p>“This isn’t about who’s better or who’s worse. Dad is Dad, and Mr. Taguchi is Mr. Taguchi. You can’t ask me to compare the two.”<br />
<p>His mother dropped her gaze, pressed a hand to her forehead and sighed testily. She ran a hand through her bangs, scratched her hairline irritably, fiddled with her earlobe, then finally lifted her face. She looked straight at Nao severely.<br />
<p>“It’s about time you grew up and got over Douno. You’re not a child anymore.”<br />
<p>“Get over? What’s that supposed to mean? I’m not going there to be babied by Dad. I just thought it would help our family if...”<br />
<p>“If you live there, you’ll only cause trouble for Douno.”<br />
<p>“How would you know if it’s trouble for Dad unless you ask him?”<br />
<p>“You aren’t Douno’s son.” His mother had spoken slowly and clearly enough. But Nao couldn’t help but question her back.<br />
<p>“Huh?”<br />
<p>“You aren’t Douno’s son. ―When we were still married, I cheated on him with another man and got pregnant with you. I loved Douno, so I didn’t want to be apart, but he wouldn’t forgive me. He kept requesting a divorce, but I didn’t listen to him because I didn’t want to... and while all of that was going on, you were born. I asked him not to file a denial of legitimacy to court, so Douno is your father on the family register. But you have no biological ties to him.”<br />
<p>“Wh... what the hell...” His throat was dry. His voice shook. His arms, which held his little brother, were also shaking. His mother saw it and took Nao’s brother from his arms. Nao slumped over and held his head in his hands.<br />
<p>“If you’re saying Dad... isn’t my real Dad, then whose son am I...?” he asked in a low growl.<br />
<p>“Hiroyuki Taguchi,” his mother said quietly. Nao slowly looked up.<br />
<p>“Your current father, Hiroyuki, is your real father,” she repeated. <br />
<p><i>I don’t know what the hell is going on anymore</i>, he thought in desperation.<br />
<p>“I cheated on Douno with Hiroyuki. We’d already broken up before I got divorced with Douno, but we ran into each other again seven years ago. Both of us had gone through a lot of... just a lot of things, and although we both had our fair share of troubles, we thought maybe this time we would be able to get things right. We talked about it over and over, and finally decided to get together again. Hiroyuki was crying, saying he could finally be a real father to his son.”<br />
<p>Nao had always thought Douno was his father. He had believed it so firmly that he had never thought otherwise. Nao remembered the first time he visited that house in Kanagawa during his summer vacation. He remembered being gently patted on the head―and being so moved by it that his heart trembled. All this time, he had thought it was because Douno was his father. He had always thought he felt this way because that was how a son felt towards his dad.<br />
<p>“...Cheated on him?” Nao growled, his head still bowed. “What the hell? Why did it have to be Taguchi? Way for you two to spit in Dad’s face!”<br />
<p>“There’s nothing I can do about what you say. It’s true that I cheated. ―But Douno hasn’t been alone all this time, either. He’s always had Mr. Kitagawa with him.”<br />
<p>“...Mister...?” Nao raised his head.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa is Douno’s lover.”<br />
<p>Nao didn’t know what to think anymore. <i>I’m having enough trouble accepting the fact that I’m not Dad’s son, but to hear that Dad and Mister are lovers...? What? Sure, they got along really well. They were really close, but they didn’t seem like lovers. They were never all over each other. They just seemed like good friends who lived together.</i><br />
<p>His mind was a mess. <i>Mom cheated with Taguchi, I was born, and she got divorced with Dad. After they got divorced, Mom remarried her boyfriend, Taguchi, and Dad became lovers with Mister.</i> It made sense in words. It made sense, but Nao’s emotions could not keep up. He didn’t want to acknowledge it.<br />
<p>“So Dad... he knows I’m not his real son, right...”<br />
<p>“Yes. That was the reason why we got divorced.”<br />
<p>A child born from his wife’s affair. Nao was that child. <i>Then what was I to Dad? Proof of his wife’s betrayal? Unshakable proof of her mistake?</i><br />
<p>Nao covered his mouth with his hands. <i>Mom and Taguchi aren’t the ones spitting in Dad’s face. It was me. Me―for being alive.</i> On Nao’s first visit during the summer, his father had been awkward and aloof at first. Now he could understand why. <i>There was no way Dad would have been happy to see me. No way he could have found me endearing. No way he could have loved me.<br />
<p>But still</i>―Nao thought. He had indeed felt like he had been loved. He had felt like they cared about him. Indeed, in that house, with those two men, he had felt very much loved. They took time off to spend with him every year during his summer holidays. They listened attentively to his stupid stories; they patiently thought through all of life's little troubles with him.<br />
<p>“―Dad never said anything to me.”<br />
<p>Nao’s little brother began to cry, and his mother comforted him by rocking him lightly.<br />
<p>“...Every summer after that time you went to Douno’s house in primary school, you’d throw a tantrum and say you were going to see him, do you remember? That’s when I phoned Douno and we talked. We decided that maybe you still needed a father in your life, so Douno said, ‘if it’s fine with you, I’ll play the father until you remarry’. But even after I remarried, you still thought Douno was your father, and you were so attached to him.... You were still so small. I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth.”<br />
<p>His mother sighed, still holding his little brother in her arms.<br />
<p>“Douno must have cared for you very much―enough to make you believe without a doubt that he was your real father.”<br />
<p>Tears sprang to Nao’s eyes. His father’s kindness, his gentle lies, and Nao’s own childish wish―<i>why couldn’t he have been my real dad? Why couldn’t I have had him instead?</i>―made him weep.<br />
<p>“I think you were a very fortunate child,” his mother said quietly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>After graduating university, Nao began working at a major publisher called Shinkasha. Shinkasha issued a literary magazine called <i>Quo Vadis</i>, and Nao hoped to land a position in its editorial department. However, he was instead placed into the editorial department of a monthly medical journal.<br />
<p>Not only was this totally different from what he requested, medical journals like these contained a lot of jargon. Learning the words was a mission in itself. Not only that, the academic papers which made up the bulk of the content were entirely different in structure and objective compared to novels. Nao had to begin by fundamentally restructuring his mindset.<br />
<p>As an editor fresh out of school, like any new graduate, he was useless at first. Nao settled into the routine of being ordered around by his seniors: collecting material and putting it away as he was told, occasionally being put in charge of a marginally-important page, then being yelled at for spending so much time on an insignificant piece.<br />
<p>By the time June rolled around, Nao had grown slightly more accustomed to his senior’s yelling, and had stopped flinching every time. One day, he was handed an illustration of an organ and told to file and put it away. Nao was surprised to see it signed by Kei Kitagawa.<br />
<p>It was Mister. Dad’s lover who lived with him. Even though he knew Douno was not his real father, Nao still always thought of him as “Dad”.<br />
<p>Although he had been surprised to find out the two men were lovers, it did not give him a reason to hate them. <i>I remember Mister was really good at these kinds of illustrations. He used to draw them all the time.</i> It brought back nostalgic memories. <i>The first year I went, he ignored his deadline to spend time with me, and got into huge trouble by Dad. From the next year, the two of them took work off for the whole three days I was there and spent every hour with me. Mister never took out his drawing supplies when I was around, so I completely forgot he was an illustrator.</i><br />
<p>Mister was still doing what he was good at, illustrating for books. If he was working, that probably meant he was doing well. As for Dad... and Ao? Shiro? Since being told that he wasn’t Douno’s son a little before his high-school graduation, Nao had not gone back to his father’s place. There was no way he could.<br />
<p>At lunch that day, Nao nonchalantly went up to the senior who had told him to put away the illustration, Saikawa, and broached the topic.<br />
<p>“About that illustration I put away earlier... it was really well-drawn.”<br />
<p>Saikawa was wolfing down a bun at his messy desk. <br />
<p>“Illustration?” He tilted his head. “Oh, you mean Mr. Kitagawa’s,” he murmured. “He’s a famous illustrator in this field. He’s good at drawing detailed pictures, which is perfect for diagrams of organs and stuff. Plus, he works fast. He’s got a lot of authors who are fans, so he draws for literary magazines sometimes, too.”<br />
<p>“I see...” Since Nao had intended to work at a publisher, he had always routinely perused many literary magazines, but he had never spotted Kitagawa’s illustrations.<br />
<p>“Have you met Mr. Kitagawa before?” he asked.<br />
<p>“Yeah. He’s a handsome person in his fifties. He can be a bit brusque, so I thought he was a bit scary at first. But once you get to talk to him, it’s not that bad.”<br />
<p><i>I guess everyone’s first impression of Mister is the same,</i> Nao thought in amusement. Saikawa glanced around before suddenly lowering his voice.<br />
<p>“You didn’t hear this from me, but―I heard Mr. Kitagawa is gay.”<br />
<p>Nao’s heart jumped.<br />
<p>“I knew he’d been living with another guy for a long time, but I think about three years ago? Suddenly he changed his last name to Douno. He still signs his work as Kitagawa, though. All of us in the editorial department were talking about it, how strange it is for him to do that at this age.”<br />
<p>“Uh-huh...”<br />
<p>“Someone asked him in person, and apparently he said he got adopted. I guess they couldn’t ask for any more details.”<br />
<p>Seeing Nao’s lack of reaction, Saikawa wrapped up his story briskly. “Well, I guess that’s not a shocking story to hear nowadays,” he said. “I’m not complaining. Whether he’s gay or otherwise, at least he gets his work done.”<br />
<p>That day, Nao stayed behind in the editorial department and searched for any work that Kitagawa had done at this publisher. Medical journals, botanical journals, literary magazines... Kitagawa’s illustrations turned up everywhere.<br />
<p>Nao wished he could speak to his father. <i>Dad, Mister’s done so much work, and been acknowledged by so many people. He’s pretty amazing, isn’t he? He’s a bit of a celebrity.</i> Nao wished he could say all of it to his father in person.<br />
<p>He knew the telephone number of his father’s house in Kanagawa, and his father’s cell phone number. Even when Nao switched cell phone models, even if he didn’t keep in touch with them anymore, he never deleted these two numbers from his phone book.<br />
<p>Nao stared at the cell phone on his desk. He knew everything now. He was no longer an ignorant child. His rational self knew he shouldn’t call. So he didn’t. He could restrain himself. ―But at the same time, he felt forlorn.<br />
<p>One year and one month passed since Nao was placed in the editorial department. It was right after the end of Golden Week in May. One Sunday, Nao came into work on his day off because one of the authors’ manuscripts was running late. He received the manuscript by courier and began checking it straightaway at the editorial office.<br />
<p>Past five in the evening, Nao had just started thinking of wrapping up and going home when Saikawa came in. He wandered into the office and began rifling through the things on his desk.<br />
<p>“What brings you here today?” Nao asked.<br />
<p>Saikawa smiled wryly when his eyes met with Nao’s.<br />
<p>“One of the illustrators I’m in charge of passed away. The chief editor called me with the news. Told me tomorrow is the funeral. I heard he wasn’t doing well, but I didn’t think he would die. Supposedly the funeral’s going to be at the rented house he lived in, but I couldn’t find my planner or his business card anywhere at home, so I don’t know his address... oh, there we go. Is this it?”<br />
<p>Nao froze when he saw the envelope that Saikawa was holding. On the back of the envelope, which was addressed to the editorial department, it was written “Kei Douno”.<br />
<p>“Wh―Who did you say passed away?”<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa, the illustrator. ―Kanagawa, huh? I’ve never been there. I guess once I get into the area, I can just ask the taxi driver to take me there...”<br />
<p>Saikawa cut away the address from the envelope.<br />
<p>“What are <i>you</i> doing in the office?” he asked. “Oh, Mr. Satake’s manuscript? He’s always late, isn’t he? Well, good luck with that.”<br />
<p>Saikawa made to leave the room, but Nao called him back.<br />
<p>“Um!” he said in a loud voice, before stammering, “is―is the wake tonight?”<br />
<p>“Probably. What, you going?” Saikawa tilted his head. “The wake is a family-only thing, isn’t it? Besides, you haven’t met Mr. Kitagawa before. If you’re gonna go, you should go tomorrow. You can come with me, if you want.”<br />
<p>“...No, that’s alright.”<br />
<p>Immediately after Saikawa left the room, Nao tossed aside the manuscript he was holding and drove back to his apartment to change into his mourning clothes. Less than half a month at his job, Nao was made to attend a work-related funeral. Since he had no mourning clothes at the time, he had to run into a store just short of closing to buy a set. Having learned his lesson, he now kept a suit for funerals and envelopes for condolence money in a corner of his closet. He had never thought they would come in useful now.<br />
<p>Nao changed and got straight into his car. From a regular road, he merged onto the highway. After getting his driver's license four years ago, the first thing Nao did was buy a used car. Although he couldn’t go to his dad’s place, he did drive a couple times to the beach they always used to go to.<br />
<p>Nao thought to himself―here he was speeding along in his car, but was it really true that Mister was dead? The words, the facts, didn’t seem real. Sure, it was possible, but he had a hard time believing it because he hadn’t seen anything with his own eyes.<br />
<p>Nao’s last memories were of five years ago, when they went fishing together. Despite being the one to suggest going, Mister didn’t seem to be cut out for fishing. He reeled in empty line after empty line as Dad laughed at him. <br />
<p>How old was Mister? He was two years younger than Dad, which would make him only in his late fifties. It was too early for him to die. Just a bit too early.<br />
<p>Nao drove determinedly in the direction of the setting sun. The glare in his face was blinding. Sunsets were an everyday sight, yet this one seemed more desolate than usual, persistently appearing in his line of sight. It was... irritating.<br />
<p>After about forty minutes on the highway, Nao got off the ramp onto a regular road. He had expected to hit gridlock, but traffic was smooth, perhaps because it was Sunday. He drove along the shoreline, passed through the railway crossing, the front of station, and passed the police station. He turned at Ito’s Barbershop, and parked his car in the parking lot of a supermarket that had been built when he was in high school. Nao knew there was no space to park near the house. <i>Maybe I’m actually pretty calm right now</i>, he thought as he locked his car.<br />
<p>As he left the parking lot, he naturally broke into a run. Beyond the bridge that he once crossed in seven steps, he could see the old detached house. The moment he saw the black and white drapes put up on the surrounding fence, he felt his heart go cold. His feet refused to move further. The threat of reality crept up to him.<br />
<p><i>I have to make sure this is real. If I don’t, it would defeat my whole purpose of coming here.</i> Nao slowly began to walk. He passed through the gates for the first time in five years, and faintly heard a voice reading the sutra from the yard. Off to the side of the concrete walkway, a place had been set up to sign his name. A middle-aged woman, perhaps in her early fifties, bowed her head to Nao when he offered his condolence money to her.<br />
<p>“Please go inside,” she said.<br />
<p>Nao slowly set foot inside the house. When he entered the familiar doorway, he caught a whiff of incense. He walked down the dim and creaky hallway into the room with the table. A small altar had been set up inside, and a Buddhist monk was reading the sutra. The photo in the black frame was definitely of Mister. His aged face wore a carefree, boyish grin.<br />
<p>It hit him visually. Reality overwhelmed him. It was true―the fact sank into his heart. Then came panic.<br />
<p>Near the wall sat Dad, wearing his mourning clothes, and a middle-aged man about the same age―no, perhaps a little younger. They both sat kneeling. His dad noticed him, and blinked in surprise.<br />
<p>“Please accept my... condolences.” Nao disguised his agitation with formalities. He knelt on the <i>tatami</i> floor, and bowed his head until his forehead touched the mat.<br />
<p>“I know I’m in no position to be here today. But Mister was so good to me. Please let me offer incense to him one last time.”<br />
<p>“Nao, lift your face.” It was a quiet voice. Nao looked up. Dad’s eyes, when he looked at him, were as gentle as they used to be.<br />
<p>“Thank you for coming. I’m sure Kei would have wanted to see you, too. Go on and pay him a visit. He’s gotten a bit thinner than when you knew him, though...”<br />
<p>Nao cautiously approached the coffin. Mister lay inside wearing white clothes, with a pale face like a doll’s. His cheeks were hollow, and he was considerably thinner. His hair was white―he had aged.<br />
<p>When they’d first met, Nao had thought him a tall and scary man. But he soon came to like―and love―him. <br />
<p>A hot surge choked up his chest, and his tears spilled over. <i>I should have been more impudent. I should have acted like I did when I invited myself over in grade school, appealing for love and attention; I should have visited anyway, pretending to know nothing, to have heard nothing. I wish I could have talked to Mister more. I loved him so much―I always wanted to be a big-hearted man like him.</i><br />
<p>The tears did not stop. Dad gently put an arm around Nao’s shoulders from behind.<br />
<p>“If you like... you can rest in that room over there.”<br />
<p>It wasn’t until Nao was helped to his feet that he realized he had thrown himself face-down and wept, heedless of the person behind him waiting to offer incense next. The room he was shown into to rest was what the two men had been using as bedroom. Dad returned to the room with the table. Left alone, Nao’s memories and sentiments kept him weeping endlessly. How long had he stayed like this? Nao lay on his back staring blankly at the ceiling when he sensed the sliding door being opened.<br />
<p>“Nao.”<br />
<p>His name was called, and he got up.<br />
<p>“The wake is over.”<br />
<p>Now to think of it, he could no longer hear the sutra being read. Dad had also taken off his jacket.<br />
<p>“You haven’t eaten anything, have you? Have this, if you like.”<br />
<p>On the tray was a rice ball and a bowl of <i>miso</i> soup. <br />
<p>“Tomoko... my sister―made these and left them behind.”<br />
<p>“It’s okay. I don’t really feel like eating.”<br />
<p>“Have a bite, at least. Put something in your stomach,” Dad insisted. “Once you finish eating, come out to the room with the altar.”<br />
<p>Dad left. Nao stared at the rice ball that had been left behind. He wasn’t hungry, but his dad’s words lingered with him. <i>Have a bite, at least. </i>So he took two bites of the rice ball. He took the rest of the food on the tray back to the kitchen.<br />
<p>Now that the wake was over, the house was still and silent. There was not a sound to be heard. When Nao peered into the room with the altar, he was surprised to see Dad alone beside the coffin, drinking a can of beer. For a man as straight-laced as him, it seemed a little insensitive.<br />
<p>“Feeling better now?” Dad asked.<br />
<p>“Oh, uh, yeah...”<br />
<p>“How did you get here? By train? Or did you take a taxi?”<br />
<p>“I drove. Parked the car at the supermarket before the bridge...”<br />
<p>Dad looked at his watch.<br />
<p>“It’s nine... that place closes at eight. Shops in the countryside close early. They’ll chain the parking lot off, too... oh, but there might still be someone left in the office right now. Do you want me to call?”<br />
<p>“That’s okay. I’ll take a taxi home or something.”<br />
<p>“Really...? I’m sorry―it isn’t very accessible in the countryside. And I’ve already made you come such a long way.”<br />
<p>Dad took another draught of beer. Nao gazed at his surroundings.<br />
<p>“There’s no one else around?”<br />
<p>“My sister booked a hotel room nearby with her husband.”<br />
<p>The shadows formed starkly on Dad’s face. He looked tired. Mister had aged, but Dad had also gotten older as well.<br />
<p>“It’s probably going to be crazy tomorrow,” Dad said to himself. “But I guess there wouldn’t be many visitors coming to pay condolences. I don’t know where Kei’s parents are. I guess the only people who’d come would be people from his work. My parents have already passed, so my sister is the only person from our side of the family.”<br />
<p>Dad sounded detached. He spoke and drank, in an almost mechanical manner.<br />
<p>“Come to think of it, Nao, aren’t you of age? ―Care for a drink with me?”<br />
<p>“I’ll... pass.”<br />
<p>“Alright,” Dad said, smiling a little. “I’m happy you came. I wasn’t expecting you to show up. I’m sure Kei’s happy, too. I’m just wondering how you found out―I didn’t tell Mariko about this.”<br />
<p>“I’m an editor at this company called Shinkasha.”<br />
<p>Dad blinked in surprise.<br />
<p>“So you got a job at a publisher.”<br />
<p>“One of my seniors was in charge of Mister, and I heard from him.”<br />
<p>“I see,” Dad murmured. “Nao’s an editor, Kei. Your prediction was off. You said Nao would probably become a public servant.”<br />
<p>“Really?”<br />
<p>“He said you were bound to become one because you were the serious and grounded type. You were so sure, weren’t you, Kei―?”<br />
<p>Dad kept talking to the coffin as if expecting a reply. <i>Maybe he’s drunk</i>, Nao thought. But he wasn’t saying anything funny, and his speech was not slurred.<br />
<p>“Can I ask what Mister was sick with?”<br />
<p>Dad lowered his gaze.<br />
<p>“Lung cancer. And he never even smoked. By the time we found out, it was too late. He couldn’t even get an operation. Since finding out, it’s been half a year... it was all a blur.”<br />
<p>The window was thrown open. Nao thought he heard noises coming from the yard, but there was no one there. The leaves were fluttering. Maybe the wind had picked up.<br />
<p>“Dad, where’s Ao?”<br />
<p>“Ao died. Three years ago, if I remember correctly. ―I think he lived a long and fulfilling life, but it hit Kei really hard. It was painful to see him like that. That dog was the puppy of another dog that Kei brought home, and Kei was really attached to him. Shiro also disappeared around the same time. Kei said he’d never take in an animal again, but he was finally starting to turn around. We were just talking about getting another pet when his illness was discovered, and then... things have just been left hanging.”<br />
<p>Dad tipped the can of beer, and it made a sloshing sound.<br />
<p>“Are Mariko and Mr. Taguchi doing well?” he asked. “Your little brother must be in primary school now.”<br />
<p>Nao remembered now, why he could not come here anymore.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry.” Nao bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I... I had no idea what happened between you and Mom...”<br />
<p>“You don’t need to apologize.”<br />
<p>“But me and Mom... to you, it must’ve felt like we were spitting in your face. And then Mom going and remarrying Taguchi―”<br />
<p>Dad smiled.<br />
<p>“It really doesn’t bother me. In the end, I’m the one who abandoned our relationship without trying to mend it. I was surprised when you visited us for the first time, though. But it was fun playing father and son. At first I only meant it to be an imitation, but soon I felt like you really were my son. Like when you’d come to me for advice about boyhood troubles. I felt so sheepish, but it was so funny. And I was happy. I think Kei was the same. He liked kids, so he was lonely when you stopped coming. ‘You think he’ll ever come again?’ he used to say.”<br />
<p>As soon as Nao heard those words, he choked up. Tears welled in his eyes.<br />
<p>“But I’m Taguchi’s kid,” he protested. “I’m the result of Mom’s affair. How could I ever come back―”<br />
<p>“You know,” Dad said as he looked down. “It didn’t matter whose child you were. You as a person, Nao, were dear to me. Even if you didn’t have the title of a son, you should have just visited as a friend.”<br />
<p>Dad placed the can of beer on the <i>tatami</i> floor.<br />
<p>“I think I’ve had enough to drink. It wouldn’t make a very good impression if the chief mourner was hung over, would it?”<br />
<p>Dad turned behind him to look at the altar, and murmured.<br />
<p>“―I wish I could have died with you.”<br />
<p>Nao swallowed hard. Dad turned back around. He was smiling.<br />
<p>“I was kidding. But now that it’s happened, I’m starting to think maybe it was a good thing that Kei went first. When our dog died, he couldn’t eat properly for a month. He was always sensitive about those kinds of things, if nothing else.”<br />
<p>Dad wasn’t crying. He was smiling. But Nao felt like there was something wrong with that. His lover was dead. A man he had been living with for years was dead. <i>―He shouldn’t be smiling.</i><br />
<p>“Dad... aren’t you sad?”<br />
<p>“I am,” Dad said, his head slightly bowed.<br />
<p>“Don’t you want to cry?”<br />
<p>There was a slight pause.<br />
<p>“But it’s not like crying is going to bring Kei back... ah, maybe I’ve had too much to drink after all.” As Dad tried to get to his feet with his beer, Nao grabbed his left hand. Dad remained slightly bent over, his somewhat vacant gaze settling on Nao.<br />
<p>“You didn't deserve this, Dad.”<br />
<p>His face showed surprise, then twisted as if in pain.<br />
<p>“...You didn't deserve this.”<br />
<p>The can of beer slipped from his right hand and fell to the floor. Dad looked down and covered his face with his hand. His shoulders trembled. With his left hand, he returned Nao’s grip with so much strength it hurt.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>For a little while after Mister’s funeral, Nao commuted to his work from Kanagawa. His father had never asked him to keep him company, but Nao didn’t want to leave him alone.<br />
<p>Finally, in the second week, his father spoke up.<br />
<p>“I appreciate your concern for me, but you have your own life,” he said. “You should go back to your own apartment.”<br />
<p>He was right, and Nao knew his father could handle himself. But his worry still lingered. Nao ended up leaving a dog behind before returning to his apartment.<br />
<p>He went to a pet shop and asked for a dog, any breed of dog, just one that had a long life. The associate appeared at a loss for some moments, then murmured, “I guess you’d want a mongrel, then.” The associate told him that although their store did not sell mongrels, Nao could probably find a dog up for adoption at an animal hospital or pound.<br />
<p>Dad looked like he had mixed feelings about the black puppy Nao had picked up at the pound, but he still agreed to take care of it. Nao began to use “checking up on the dog” as an excuse to frequent his father’s house in Kanagawa.<br />
<p>The black puppy had grown into a full-sized dog when Nao began dating his girlfriend, who was a freelance writer. Nao took her along to visit his father. When he and his girlfriend got married the next year, and when they had a baby, Dad was the first to know after Nao’s parents. <br />
<p>“Mr. Douno seems more like a father than a friend,” Nao’s wife had said to him once.<br />
<p>“Yeah, we pretend we’re father and son,” Nao had replied.<br />
<p>“You are <i>so</i> strange,” his wife had said with a laugh.<br />
<p>In the seventh year of their marriage, on the last day of their combined six-day <acronym title="Obon is a Buddhist holiday in mid-July or mid-August which lasts for three days. Many companies give workers leave during this time.">Obon</acronym> and summer vacation, Nao was on the train with his son, who was turning five. He had promised in advance that he would take his son to the beach on this day. Nao had planned to go by car, but since his wife insisted that she wanted the car for her business trip, Nao had relented.<br />
<p>The train rocked as it sped through a narrow alleyway-like gap. His son sat beside him. He had been overjoyed that they were going by train instead of by car, but now, he sat sullenly without a word. This was due to the severe scolding Nao had given him before they left. His son had gotten into a fight at kindergarten with a kid of the same age, and ended up hurting him. The fight had started when his son had taken the boy’s toy away from him. Nao heard about this incident for the first time from wife this morning.<br />
<p>“Keita.”<br />
<p>Nao called his name. Keita looked at him with a scowl. Nao sat his sullen son on his lap. <br />
<p>“When you go back to kindergarten, you’ll say sorry to the kid you hurt, won’t you?”<br />
<p>His son stubbornly kept his mouth shut. Nao took Keita’s hand and pinched the back of it hard.<br />
<p>“Ow!” Keita cried loudly, flailing his arms and legs. Large tears welled up in his eyes.<br />
<p>“I heard the kid you hurt was bleeding. For him, it hurt much, much more than this.”<br />
<p>Keita pouted, on the verge of tears.<br />
<p>“Don’t do things you don’t like to other people. Don’t make other people do it, either. If you stick to those rules, you won’t go wrong. You’ll turn out a good kid, Keita.”<br />
<p>Nao felt like he’d heard his own words, the same words, somewhere else before. But where? Before he could recall it, the scenery out the window suddenly burst into view.<br />
<p>The same glittering ocean he had seen on his summer vacation in primary school stretched before his eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>-- END OF SHORT STORY --</center><br />
<br />
<b>Notes</b><br />
<ol><li>"Keita" - as you can tell from the pronunciation, Nao has taken Kitagawa's name, Kei (圭) and added one letter to make Keita (圭太).</li>
</ol><br />
<br />
This concludes the entire story of In the Box. <br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-89886003923891802572013-09-23T01:16:00.002-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.449-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box / Summer Vacation - Pt. 2This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-summer-vacation.html">PART 1</a>.<br />
<br />
<p>The shop on the seashore was packed with people. Since there were no seats inside, we bought curry and cola and went outside. Under the parasol, I imitated Mister and sat cross-legged. The curry tasted like something I’d eaten somewhere before, and even though we’d just had curry yesterday, it still tasted super good. <br />
<p>After we ate, we swam for a bit. Mister had started napping in the shadow of the embankment, so I played with the inner tube by myself. But it got boring quickly, so I dragged the inner tube over beside Mister, and took a nap with him.<br />
<p>Once the sun had started setting in the west, they began to prepare to go home. They returned the inner tube, and retrieved their belongings from the locker. When Nao and Mister arrived at the bike racks hand-in-hand, they discovered that the bike was gone. They circled the bike racks three times and spent about thirty minutes searching the area, but they couldn’t find the bike after all. Nao began to tear up while they searched. Today had been fun. It had been so unbelievably fun that he was angry that he’d have to feel so horrible right before going home.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“Why’re you crying?”<br />
<p>As Nao burst into tears, Mister squatted down in front of him. <br />
<p>“Whoever stole your bike should die,” Nao said.<br />
<p>Mister ruffled Nao’s hair, took his hand, and stood up.<br />
<p>“We’ll just have to take a long walk home.”<br />
<p>“What about your bike?”<br />
<p>“I’ll report it to the police, then I guess I’ll come back to look for it tomorrow.”<br />
<p>Nao walked along, his hand drawn by Mister. They had flown down the slope by bike on the way here, but now they walked the way back up, digging their heels in with each step. The hand that held Nao’s was hot. But he wanted to keep holding hands. <i>If a stranger saw us, I wonder if he’d think Mister and I were father and son,</i> Nao wondered.<br />
<p>“Today was like life itself.” Mister wiped the sweat off his forehead with his right hand as he climbed the slope.<br />
<p>“Life?”<br />
<p>“You have fun things, then you sometimes have not-so-fun things.” <i>Not-so-fun</i>, Mister had said, but his face didn’t look annoyed or angry at all.<br />
<p>“Aren’t you mad that someone stole your bike, Mister?”<br />
<p>“Of course I am.”<br />
<p>Nao peered at Mister’s face. “But you don’t look it at all.”<br />
<p>“Well, I might not be angry enough to cry about it. Starting tomorrow I’d have to do my shopping on foot. That’s about all the inconvenience it’ll cause for me. It’s no big deal.”<br />
<p>Since the owner of the bike wasn’t angry, Nao felt weird being the only one, so he decided to chase the angry feelings out of his heart.<br />
<p>Mister went into the police station that Nao had gone to for directions before. The officer inside wasn’t the young one from yesterday. During the thirty minutes it took to file the complaint, Nao stood beside Mister and clutched the hem of his shirt.<br />
<p>By the time they exited the police station, the sky was starting to look a lot more like evening. When Nao tugged at Mister’s shirt, he took Nao’s hand in his. Even if they weren’t talking, it was okay. Just holding hands was enough.<br />
<p><i>If Mister was my dad, or if my dad was someone like him, every day would probably be so fun. </i><br />
<p>When they arrived home, the light in the entrance was on. <i>Dad’s home.</i> Nao’s heart quailed.<br />
<p>“We’re home.” Mister rattled the sliding door open. Dad came out, wearing a scowl that instantly gave away his bad mood.<br />
<p>“Matsuo from Sakubunkan phoned,” he said.<br />
<p>Mister suddenly looked at his feet guiltily. Dad put on his shoes.<br />
<p>“You stay here,” he said to Nao. He took Mister outside and closed the sliding door tightly shut behind them.<br />
<p>Left all alone, Nao could do nothing but stand still. He could hear a voice on the other side of the door. It sounded angry. <i>Maybe he’s talking about me.</i> Nao quietly opened the door a crack.<br />
<p>“Matsuo called three times asking about your progress. He told me your deadline is tomorrow! You said yesterday you’d only finished two drawings.”<br />
<p>In the middle of the concrete walkway, Dad and Mister were standing across from each other.<br />
<p>“I was planning to do them this evening.”<br />
<p>“You said this morning you weren’t sure if you could finish them all today. You said so yourself that you don’t like rushing because your work gets messy.”<br />
<p>Mister scratched his head. <br />
<p>“...Unexpected turn of events.”<br />
<p>Dad glared at Mister from head to toe. “You didn’t answer the phone when I called once before lunch. Where were you all this time?”<br />
<p>“We were at the beach... you know, for a bit.”<br />
<p>Dad pressed a hand to his forehead in exasperation. “This isn’t the time to be going on a leisurely trip.”<br />
<p><i>It’s my fault.</i> The thought made Nao’s chest ache. Mister stared at his feet like a scolded child.<br />
<p>“I know you’re doing this out of consideration for me. I appreciate that. But I don’t want you to neglect your work because of that.”<br />
<p>Unable to stand any more, Nao threw the sliding door wide open. The two of them turned around almost at the same time.<br />
<p>“M-Mister was keeping me company. That’s why...”<br />
<p>Dad only glanced at me, then went back to glaring at Mister silently with his arms folded. Mister scratched the back of his head again.<br />
<p>“...I’ll do my work properly. And I won’t cut corners.”<br />
<p>After a short silence, Dad let out a measured sigh.<br />
<p>“The two of you, come in through the back door and take a shower. I’ll keep the door unlocked. Then we’ll have dinner afterwards.”<br />
<p>Mister beckoned, and Nao followed. They entered through the back door and went to the bathroom, which was right beside it. <br />
<p>“Since we don’t have time,” said Mister, and they bathed together. As warm water was dumped over Nao’s head, grains of sand formed thin streams on the tiles at his feet. He had no idea where they’d been stuck to him. <br />
<p>“I hate Dad.” The sentence naturally escaped his lips. Mister cupped Nao's face with his hands.<br />
<p>“I love your dad lots,” he said.<br />
<p>“But... but... he was so mad at you.”<br />
<p>“That was my fault. Takafumi wasn’t wrong about anything.”<br />
<p>Despite how much he’d been yelled at, Mister didn’t seem angry at all. Nao had no idea how he could go without getting angry.<br />
<p>“B-But Dad is a grouch. He just thinks I’m a nuisance. It’s written on his face.”<br />
<p>Mister smiled slyly.<br />
<p>“That’s not the look of someone who thinks you’re a nuisance. He just doesn’t know what to do. Adults need time to mentally prepare, too.”<br />
<p>“Mentally prepare?”<br />
<p>“You know, for a lot of things.”<br />
<p>Once they finished their bath, they went to the room with the table, where dinner was laid out. Dinner was <i>somen</i> noodles, fried chicken, and fruit salad. It was awkward with Dad there, but Nao was starving, so he ate a lot. The food on their plates disappeared gradually, but it remained very quiet. Both Mister and Dad didn’t talk, so Nao didn’t talk, either.<br />
<p>Once the meal was over, the table was cleaned off immediately. Mister brought out the cookie tin. He was going to start working.<br />
<p>“It’s time for you to go to bed,” Nao was told by Dad, and was kicked out of the room.<br />
<p>Faced with no other choice, Nao headed to the bedroom. He found a new futon laid out on the floor. He wondered if it was for him, but since no one had told him so, he couldn’t bring himself to climb in. He paced around the futon for a while until Dad came in afterwards.<br />
<p>“You can sleep there starting from today,” he said, pointing to the new futon. Yesterday, Nao had felt cramped sleeping in the same futon. But now that he had his own set, he felt like he was being told that they didn’t want to sleep together with him, and it made him feel unhappy.<br />
<p>After Nao wriggled into his new futon, Dad turned out the light and turned on a small desk lamp instead. He lay on his stomach and opened a book. Nao started to get nervous when he realized he would be alone with Dad until Mister finished his work. He had played a lot during the day, so his body was tired and heavy; he felt like he could fall asleep right this moment, but his mind was strangely wide awake. He tossed and turned every few minutes until his eyes met with Dad’s. He quickly looked away.<br />
<p>“...Is my lamp too bright?”<br />
<p>Nao didn’t know what he meant.<br />
<p>“Do you have trouble sleeping if it’s bright?”<br />
<p>“...Not really.”<br />
<p>At home, Nao always turned out all the lights and slept in the dark. But Dad was reading a book; he couldn’t ask the room to be darkened.<br />
<p>“Was it fun going to the beach with Kei?”<br />
<p>Dad had been so mad at Mister for going to the beach, yet he was asking if he had fun.<br />
<p>“...Yeah,” Nao answered, though he didn’t feel like talking. <br />
<p>“I see,” Dad murmured before going back to his book. Nao tossed and turned for a while longer, and fell asleep before he knew it.<br />
<p>In the middle of the night, Nao woke up wanting to go to the washroom. He rubbed his eyes in the dark. It felt like no one was in the room. When he turned on the light, Dad and Mister were nowhere to be seen.<br />
<p>Wondering why no one was here, Nao went out into the hallway. The room with the table had the light on. He crept closer and peered through the crack of the open sliding door. Mister was drawing. Across from him, Dad was sitting against the wall and reading a book. <i>Scratch, scratch, scratch....</i> The sound of Mister’s moving pen echoed loudly.<br />
<p>“Kei, why don’t you take a break?” Dad had sounded so angry before, but now the same voice sounded really gentle.<br />
<p>“I’ll be done soon. You don’t have to wait for me, Takafumi. Go ahead and go to sleep.”<br />
<p>Dad shut his book with a soft <i>fwump</i>.<br />
<p>“I can’t sleep. I feel nervous when he’s there. And he―I can tell he’s trying to be on his best behaviour in front of me, and he looks so rigid and uncomfortable. I feel bad for the poor kid.”<br />
<p><i>He’s talking about me.</i> Nao felt his pulse drumming right to his fingertips.<br />
<p>“Just don’t let the small stuff get to you,” Mister drawled. <br />
<p>“...Maybe you’re right,” Dad nodded. “But I’m afraid I might let something slip by accident. And I still haven’t been able to get a hold of Mariko yet.”<br />
<p>Silence fell in the room. <i>I’ll go pee and then go back to bed.</i> Nao turned his back to the strip of light.<br />
<p>“I swam in the ocean for the first time. Waves are pretty interesting, huh? Have you swam in the ocean before, Takafumi?”<br />
<p>“I have. ―If you enjoyed the beach, we should go together again sometime.”<br />
<p>“The two of us?”<br />
<p>“The three of us, if Nao’s here.”<br />
<p>“Sure. But if it’s just you and me, Takafumi, I’d rather be in bed.”<br />
<p>“Idiot,” Dad muttered in exasperation, and the room became quiet again.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The next day, Nao was woken by his father. It was seven-thirty. He washed his face and went to the room with the table to find only him and Dad there. The table was laid out for two.<br />
<p>“What about Mister...?”<br />
<p>“Kei was working ‘til dawn. I want to let him sleep in for a bit.”<br />
<p>Today, Dad was wearing a T-shirt with buttons and beige pants. He wasn’t wearing a suit like yesterday.<br />
<p>There were only the two of them, so they sat across from each other and ate. Nao felt just as nervous today. <i>I wonder if Dad’s nervous with me around,</i> he thought while he nibbled at his toast, remembering the conversation he had overheard yesterday. The toast and salad were delicious, but he wasn’t able to finish all of it. His portion was a little bigger than how much he usually ate.<br />
<p>The floorboards creaked. Nao turned around to see Mister emerge, rubbing his red eyes.<br />
<p>“...Where’s my breakfast?”<br />
<p>“You should have slept in. Can you eat?”<br />
<p>“...So-so.”<br />
<p>Dad got to his feet with the dirty dishes and left the room. Mister sat himself down heavily in front of the table and gave a big yawn. Nao felt relieved. The atmosphere changed with Mister around.<br />
<p>“How about... we go to a haunted house today?” Mister asked lazily, slumped over with his cheek on the table.<br />
<p>“A haunted house!”<br />
<p>“You afraid of ghosts?”<br />
<p>“No! I wanna go, I wanna go!”<br />
<p>“Looks like they’ve opened one at the department store. It’s about a thirty-minute drive from here. Takafumi took the day off today, too, so the three of us can go together.”<br />
<p><i>The three of us, with Dad.</i> That bothered Nao a bit. It would have been fine with just Mister and him. <br />
<p>“I don’t have a problem with that, but you can’t go out until Matsuo comes to pick up your work,” Dad said as he placed a tray with toast, salad, and a glass of milk in front of Mister before leaving the room.<br />
<p>“...I completely forgot. Oh yeah, he said he’d come by to pick it up,” Mister said to himself as he slathered a generous amount of jam on his toast and stuffed it into his mouth in three bites. He ate the second piece in three bites, too. He ate the salad in two. He finished by drinking his glass of milk in one long draught, then lay down on the spot.<br />
<p>“Mister.”<br />
<p>His closed eyes opened just a crack.<br />
<p>“What time are we going to the haunted house?”<br />
<p>“At nine I have to phone Mr. Matsuo and ask him what time he’s coming... so it’ll be after that. Nao, go help Takafumi.”<br />
<p>“Help...?”<br />
<p>“Help him put away the dishes we ate out of. The stepping stool’s in the kitchen, right?”<br />
<p>Dad had already tidied the dishes Nao had eaten out of, so Nao gathered Mister’s dishes and stacked them. He carried the dishes in his arms and went into the hallway. Shiro the cat meowed and hung about his feet. She had been so aloof before, but now she wove between his feet and rubbed her face against his shins. <br />
<p>“I’ll end up stepping on you if you keep doing that.”<br />
<p>Nao lifted his feet up as he walked so he wouldn’t step on the cat. His body teetered precariously. <i>Oh no</i>―he thought, but it was too late. He lost his balance and fell forward. The dishes cascaded to the floor with a loud crash. The sound startled Shiro, and she bounded away outside. Dad came out of the kitchen in a hurry, wearing an apron.<br />
<p>“What happened?”<br />
<p>He approached Nao and helped him up from the floor.<br />
<p>“Are you hurt? Does it hurt anywhere?”<br />
<p>Dad’s face was scarier than any pain Nao could feel. The plates and glass were all broken. <i>I’m going to get in trouble.</i><br />
<p>“Th-The cat came around my feet...”<br />
<p>“Cat? You mean Shiro? I don’t see her anywhere.”<br />
<p>“She was right there. She came right close to my feet, that’s why I tripped and...”<br />
<p>Dad let out a sigh through his compressed lips, a kind of exasperated sigh that made Nao’s heart feel like it was being wrung.<br />
<p>“Anyway, the cat doesn’t matter right now. Does it hurt anywhere?”<br />
<p>“...N-No.”<br />
<p>Dad sighed again at my reply. <br />
<p>“You don’t have to worry about this here. Go back to the room.”<br />
<p>“I―I’ll help clean up.”<br />
<p>He reached out to the broken dishes, but was slapped on the back of the hand. Dad instantly grimaced as if to say, ‘I shouldn’t have done that’.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry for hitting you like that,” he apologized. “But broken dishes are dangerous. I’ll handle this, so go back to the room.” His voice was quiet, but scolding. At least to Nao’s ears, it sounded like he was being scolded. <i>Mister was the one who told me to help you. I only did what I was told, but the cat had to come along. If the cat wasn’t there, I would’ve been able to take the dishes to the kitchen just fine. I wouldn’t have broke them. It’s not my fault. It’s the cat’s fault.</i> Nao wanted to say so, but he couldn’t. <i>Dad thinks it’s my fault. That’s why he’s mad―because he thinks I did it.</i><br />
<p>Nao went back to the room with the table. Mister was stretched out on the <i>tatami</i> floor, fast asleep with his mouth half-open. <i>Listen to me, listen to my side of the story, Mister.</i> Nao shook him, but Mister only growled and said “Mmmmmm,” in his sleep, and wouldn’t wake up.<br />
<p>He heard the <i>clink-clink</i> of the broken dishes being cleaned up in the hallway. Nao couldn’t bear to listen it, so he went out to the yard through the porch. He put on a pair of bamboo sandals that were a bit too big for him, and fled into the bushes under the tree. Ao barked at him, but eventually stopped when Nao hugged his knees and stayed still.<br />
<p><i>Dad hates me after all.</i> The thought made tears spring to his eyes. <i>He already hates me, but he hates me more now because I broke the dishes.</i> No matter how many times he wiped and wiped his tears with both hands, fresh ones streamed down his face.<br />
<p>“Nao.”<br />
<p>I looked up to see Dad calling my name from the room with the table. Mister was still sleeping. Dad called my name a few times, then left the room, still calling my name. I heard the front door rattling open. <i>Crunch, crunch.</i> Someone was coming closer through the grass.<br />
<p>“Nao, there you are.”<br />
<p>Since we weren’t playing hide and seek, he found me right away. I didn’t want him to see me crying, so I didn’t look up.<br />
<p>“Didn’t you hear me calling your name?”<br />
<p>I didn’t want to talk to him. Not with someone like him. I curled up like a rock and didn’t even shake or nod my head.<br />
<p>“You had me worried because you disappeared suddenly like that. You’re still in primary school, and you don’t know your way around here. It’s dangerous to go out alone. Next time you want to go out to play, let me or Kei know first. We’ll go along with you.”<br />
<p>I didn’t answer.<br />
<p>“You understand what I’m trying to say, right?”<br />
<p>“No, I don’t!” I yelled loudly. I felt Dad’s presence there for a while, but after a while he went back into the house without saying anything. I regretted it as soon as I was left alone. <i>I shouldn’t have yelled like that. Now he hates me again.</i> Just thinking about it made more tears fall from my eyes.<br />
<p>I hated Dad. I’d never wanted a dad like that. He wasn’t nice, he was cold. He was distant to me. He didn’t play with me at all. He was always scolding me, treating me like I was a burden.<br />
<p>I wanted a dad like Mister. He let me ride on his shoulders, he patted me on the head, and he held hands with me. I wanted a dad like him.<br />
<p>Still crying, I curled up on my side in the grass. When I lay sideways, my tears streamed sideways, too. After a while, Ao suddenly started barking.<br />
<p>“Excuse me for bothering you so early in the morning. This is Matsuo from Sakubunkan.” I heard a man’s voice over at the front door. I heard the rattling of the front door opening, and talking voices. As I watched the room with the table through the blades of grass, a man in a suit and glasses came in. He looked like an office worker. Mister was being shaken awake by Dad, and he sat up with a big yawn.<br />
<p>“I should have taken them to you... sorry.”<br />
<p>“No, no, you don’t have to worry. I was in the area to pick up another author’s work. I should be apologizing for coming over so early in the morning.”<br />
<p>The man in the glasses took out the papers from the envelope and slowly went through each one.<br />
<p>“...Your drawings are as detailed and beautiful as ever, Mr. Kitagawa. Right now the only project we have for you is Mr. Hori’s serial, but other authors have been asking me if you could illustrate their books.”<br />
<p>“...Mm-hmm,” Mister said in a disinterested way.<br />
<p>“Are you still reluctant to illustrate for novels, Mr. Kitagawa?”<br />
<p>Mister scratched his head. <br />
<p>“I’m not very educated. Novels have a lot of words I don’t understand. If I tried to read one properly, it’d take too much time and it would tire me out.”<br />
<p>“I remember you telling me that before. This is just a personal opinion―many of these kinds of detailed drawings tend to look like they’ve just been copied from something, but your work has none of that. Your drawings have a unique atmosphere about them. Call it a sort of sensuality, if you will. I think that’s what people are attracted to.”<br />
<p>“You can flatter me all you want, but you’re not getting anything from me.”<br />
<p>The bespectacled man opened his mouth laughed out loud. <br />
<p>“It’s been five years since you started illustrating professionally, isn’t it? I really have to thank Douno for introducing us. We’d drifted apart after graduating from university, but one day I ran into him at an <i>izakaya</i> for the first time in over a decade. I remember the first thing he said to me after finding out I was a magazine editor was, ‘Do you need anyone who can draw really well?’. I have to admit I was taken aback at first. But I took a look at a few of your pieces, and though they were a bit rough around the edges, I knew I had the beginnings of something. I said to myself, ‘This man is made for illustrating books.’ Some people say illustrations are just extras, but I don’t think so. They’re an important factor in helping the imagination.”<br />
<p>“I don’t really care, as long as I can make enough money to keep myself fed.”<br />
<p>The man in glasses shrugged. “That’s the strange thing about you, Mr. Kitagawa. From looking at your drawings, I would never get the impression that you were only doing this to feed yourself. ―Well, I’ll take these with me, then.”<br />
<p>The bespectacled man put the papers in the envelope and stood up.<br />
<p>“Oh, I saw a pair of small shoes in the doorway. Is a child over? Yours?”<br />
<p>―Dad and Mister fell silent at the same time.<br />
<p>“A distant relative is over for the holidays,” answered Dad. Nao felt like someone had stabbed something through his already-swollen and aching heart.<br />
<p>“Because the ocean is nice here, and there’s a beach,” Dad explained.<br />
<p>“Oh, I see,” said the man in the glasses, nodding knowingly to him. “I came by train today, and I saw the beach full of people. It is the summer holidays, after all.”<br />
<p>Their guest left. As soon as the man went home, Mister rolled over on the floor and went back to sleep. Dad came back into the room and―when he saw Mister sleeping, he left again without saying anything. A little while after that, I heard the door rattling open. The wooden gate slammed shut. Mister was still sleeping. Dad was probably the one who’d gone out.<br />
<p>The cicadas whined. I felt like the buzzing would worm its way into my head too, so I clapped both hands over my ears. My friend had told me before that divorce was what happened when your mom and dad didn’t like each other anymore. Dad didn’t like Mom anymore, and Mom didn’t like Dad anymore. Since Dad hated Mom, he probably came to hate me, too, even before I was born. That’s why he didn’t tell the man that ‘his son’ had come over to play. He probably didn’t want to think of me as his son. Even if I wasn’t born―no, Dad would probably have preferred that I wasn’t born.<br />
<p>I had two other kids in my class whose moms and dads were divorced. Both of them lived with their moms, but they told me they saw their dads once every two or three months. <br />
<p>“We’d go to a theme park, or go watch soccer games together. And we’d talk and talk. I love my dad lots. ―Nao, aren’t you gonna meet with your dad?”<br />
<p>If I could meet my dad in person, we’d play together, talk about lots of things―I was supposed to be able to be like those kids, too. I thought my dad would always be my dad, even if my parents were divorced.<br />
<p>I was excited when I got on the train two days ago. I’d only thought of what kind of fun things were waiting for me. I’d never even imagined what kind of upsetting or bad things might happen.<br />
<p>I heard rustling. Shiro came close enough for me to touch her. Her tail was pointed straight up, and she had a snobby look on her face. <i>I fell down in the hallway because you got in my way. If you weren’t there, I wouldn’t have gotten in trouble by dad. If you’d still been there when the dishes broke, dad wouldn’t have thought I’d just blamed everything on you as an excuse.</i><br />
<p>Nao grabbed Shiro’s tail and yanked it violently. Shiro snarled and bared her teeth, and scratched Nao’s hand with her sharp claws.<br />
<p>“Ow!”<br />
<p>Nao let go. Blood welled up on the scratch marks on the back of his hand. A hot surge of anger rose to his head. Nao grabbed a baseball-sized rock close by and hurled it as hard as he could at the white cat.<br />
<p>He was not good at sports. He was a slow runner, and couldn’t jump very high. He wasn’t good at throwing balls, either. He could never pitch straight, yet today of all days, the rock flew dead straight ahead of him. The rock hit Shiro squarely on the head, and the cat let out a strangled meow before arching like a bow and collapsing on its side.<br />
<p>“...What’re you doing?”<br />
<p>All this time I’d thought Mister had been sleeping, but now he was up and staring at me from the porch. He’d seen me throw the rock. Mister had seen me―Nao twisted his face like he was about to cry.<br />
<p>Mister came down into the yard, still barefoot, and hurried towards the cat. The snowy fur above Shiro’s right ear was dyed red. ―It was bleeding. Nao felt his whole body turn cold.<br />
<p>“Hey, Shiro. Shiro―”<br />
<p>At Mister’s voice, Shiro tried to get up, but fell down again. After doing that twice, she lay still and stopped moving.<br />
<p>“Sh―She’s dead...” My hands shook violently in the grass at in front of my knees. “Is―Is Shiro dead?”<br />
<p>She was Dad’s cat, but I’d killed her. <i>I</i> had killed her. <i>Oh no, oh no...</i> Dad would never forgive me now. Tears flooded my eyes.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I...”<br />
<p>Mister went back into the house and came back with a small cardboard box lined with a towel.<br />
<p>“―We’re taking her to the hospital.”<br />
<p>He put Shiro inside the lined cardboard box and ran. He ran because he didn’t have a bike anymore. Nao ran after him, panting. They crossed the small bridge and immediately turned right. After running for a short while, they could see the sign for the animal hospital up ahead.<br />
<p>Once they arrived at the hospital, Shiro immediately went into the examination room. Since owners were to wait in the waiting room, Nao sat side-by-side with Mister on the brown sofa. Nao had been crying the whole time up to their arrival at the hospital. <i>Shiro, Shiro, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.</i> He’d apologized over and over in his heart. <i>If Shiro dies, Dad will hate me even more.</i> The thought made more tears spill over.<br />
<p>“Is Shiro gonna die...?”<br />
<p>“I dunno,” Mister muttered.<br />
<p>“Is Shiro gonna be saved?”<br />
<p>“I couldn’t say.”<br />
<p>No matter how many times he asked Mister, all he said was “I don’t know”. No other animals or people were in the examination room. It was very quiet. The sun seeping through the crack in the blinds felt hot on his feet.<br />
<p>“Why did you throw that rock at Shiro?” Mister asked quietly. Nao shook his head vehemently.<br />
<p>“―I don’t know.”<br />
<p>“There’s no way you wouldn’t know. I saw you throw it at her.”<br />
<p>Nao clenched his fists on his knees.<br />
<p>“...Because I was... mad...”<br />
<p>“And why would you throw a rock at a cat if you’re mad?”<br />
<p>“Because―because I broke the plates because she was hanging around my feet. I said it was the cat’s fault, but Dad made it sound like I just tripped by myself.”<br />
<p>“Takafumi said you tripped and fell because of the cat. You explained to him properly, didn’t you?”<br />
<p>“I did, but...”<br />
<p>“Takafumi didn’t say you were lying.”<br />
<p>“But―but the look on his face said so!”<br />
<p>Mister was looking at me in a troubled way. The door to the examination room opened with a click. The young veterinarian smiled at me when our eyes met.<br />
<p>“Shiro’s going to be fine. There are no abnormalities in her X-rays or CT scan. The wound on her head is small. I think it’s more like a concussion. But I’m worried about the bleeding that might follow, so we would like to keep her for the night to see how she fares.”<br />
<p>As soon as Nao heard that Shiro was going to be alright, he was so relieved he felt like all the strength had left his body. When he saw Shiro lying lifelessly in the white cage after the examination, tears streamed from his eyes again.<br />
<p>Mister took Nao by the hand as he continued to cry, and led him out of the animal hospital. Instead of going straight home, they entered a small park. Nao was sat down on the bench, and in the next moment, received a stern knock on the head with Mister’s fist.<br />
<p>“Now you’re even. I’m sure it hurt a lot more for Shiro, but cats can’t punch humans back.”<br />
<p>“Ow, it hurts... it hurts...” Nao sobbed.<br />
<p>The throbbing pain spread from his head to the rest of his body.<br />
<p>“Does it hurt?”<br />
<p>Nao nodded.<br />
<p>“If it hurts, don’t ever do what you think is mean or hurtful to other people or animals. Shiro went through much, much more pain than that.”<br />
<p>“...I’m sorry... I’m sorry...”<br />
<p>“You should be apologizing to Shiro, not me.”<br />
<p>“B...But... Shiro wouldn’t understand...”<br />
<p>“So it’s okay to do nothing if she doesn’t understand?”<br />
<p>Nao felt a pang in his chest. He thought hard. "Meow, meow" was all Shiro could say. <i>What am I supposed to do? What should I do?</i><br />
<p>“I don’t know, I don’t know!” he cried in frustration.<br />
<p>A large hand plopped down on his head.<br />
<p>“When Shiro comes home tomorrow, be nice to her.”<br />
<p>“...Okay,” Nao answered in a small, but clear voice. Yes―he would be nice to her. He would give her lots to eat, pet her lots.... He looked up to see Mister no longer beside him. He had disappeared.<br />
<p>“Mister, mister...”<br />
<p>He ran around the entire park, but could not find him. Nao had been left behind, abandoned―when the fact sank in, Nao felt like he had been left all alone in the whole world. He was desolate. Lonely. Scared. <i>―No, no, no! Don’t leave me. Don’t leave me here.</i><br />
<p>As Nao ran out of the park, he was called by his name. He turned around. Mister was calling to him from across the street. Once the road was clear of cars, Mister crossed the street. Nao threw his arms around Mister’s waist and burst into tears.<br />
<p>“What’s wrong, hey?” Mister stroked Nao’s cheek worriedly. “I was gone buying these, since it’s hot outside. Here, eat it.”<br />
<p>Mister was offering him a large ice cream cone. Nao took a huge bite. Although it was sweet and delicious, and Mister was back with him, Nao’s his eyelids and heart still ached.<br />
<p>“I usually don’t do bad things like this. I don’t throw rocks at animals or bully my friends.”<br />
<p>Mister made loud crunching sounds as he pushed the rest of the ice cream cone into his mouth.<br />
<p>“Those are things you shouldn’t even do occasionally. Don’t do things you don’t like to other people. You have to understand that, or else you won’t become a good grownup.”<br />
<p>Mister was big, tall, grownup, too. Even though there was a grownup right beside him, Nao started to become unsure of what a grownup was supposed to be like.<br />
<p>“I don’t get what a good grownup is.”<br />
<p>“I just told you. Don’t do things you don’t like to other people. Don’t make other people do it, either. If you stick to those rules, you won’t go wrong anywhere. You’ll turn out a good kid.”<br />
<p>The ice cream in Nao’s hand melted and dribbled onto his thumb. He licked the dripping white cream. It smelled faintly earthy.<br />
<p>“I wanna be a grownup like you, Mister.”<br />
<p>“That’s no good,” Mister refused.<br />
<p>“Why not? If I do the right thing, I’ll be a good grownup like you, won’t I, Mister?”<br />
<p>“I did a bad thing in the past. I didn’t know the difference between good and bad, so I ended up doing something bad.”<br />
<p>Nao peered into Mister’s face and tilted his head.<br />
<p>“It doesn’t look like it.”<br />
<p>Mister’s eyes crinkled.<br />
<p>“I can’t tell you did something bad,” Nao insisted.<br />
<p>Mister opened his right hand and placed it on his chest. “Even if you can’t see it, there’s still something bad inside me. Because of what I did, I was taken away by the police, and I was in jail for a long time. But it also wasn’t good that I was the only one to go to jail.”<br />
<p>Nao didn’t know what Mister was talking about.<br />
<p>“I killed someone.”<br />
<p>A cicada was buzzing loudly above their heads. Nao knew this was something to be surprised at, but he was not surprised. He also didn’t doubt that it was true.<br />
<p>“I was nineteen. My mom asked me to kill this man. I didn’t think of anything, I just killed him. I didn’t tell the police that my mom had asked me to kill him. But that was wrong. Though I deserved to be punished for killing him, my mom should have been punished, too. It was wrong for my mom to ask me to kill someone. But at the time, I didn’t know whose fault it was, or what I was supposed to do. ―I had no idea.”<br />
<p>Mister looked at me.<br />
<p>“Nao, are you afraid of me?”<br />
<p>“No.”<br />
<p>The pair of eyes on me smiled.<br />
<p>“Now I’ve taught you proper. As long as you keep that in your heart, you won’t go wrong.”<br />
<p>The buzzing of the cicadas didn’t stop. <br />
<p>“Damnit, it’s hot,” Mister muttered while wiping his forehead with his palm.<br />
<p>“Where’s your mom now, Mister?”<br />
<p>“I wonder? I haven’t seen her since I was nineteen.”<br />
<p>“Then where’s your dad?”<br />
<p>“He’s out there being a good-for-nothing.”<br />
<p>“Where do goodfernuthings live?”<br />
<p>“Who knows,” Mister shrugged, then took my hand and stood up. “I know your mother, you know.”<br />
<p>“What? Really?!”<br />
<p>Mister gave an emphatic nod.<br />
<p>“Your mother is a good, kind person. Takafumi, your dad, is a good person, too. He’s kind, smart, upright. Much more than me.”<br />
<p>Nao pursed his lips.<br />
<p>“You have a father and mother you should be proud of. You have every right to brag about them to your friends. And all <i>you</i> need to keep in mind is what’s good and what’s bad. That’s all you need.”<br />
<p>We walked, holding hands. I squeezed Mister’s big hand as hard as I could. Our shadows fell short on the path. It was really hot outside, but I felt happy holding hands and walking like this.<br />
<p>“Mister, do you know about my big sister, too?”<br />
<p>Mister stopped in the midst of one of his big strides.<br />
<p>“Dad wouldn’t tell me about my dead sister.”<br />
<p>“You mean Honoka?”<br />
<p>“Was Honoka her name?” It sounded soft and light, like a fluffy cotton ball.<br />
<p>“...Honoka was cute. But don’t talk about your big sister in front of your mom or Takafumi.”<br />
<p>“Why?”<br />
<p>“Because it’s hard for grownups to remember their dead child, too. You don’t want to see your dad or mom looking sad, do you?”<br />
<p>“...No.” Nao shook his head.<br />
<p>“I’ll tell you all about Honoka,” said Mister.<br />
<p>I thought we were going home now, but Mister kept walking along the river. We walked endlessly down the pedestrian walkway until we arrived at the foot of a large bridge. Mister crossed it. From the large bridge which spanned the wide distance of the river, I could see the ocean in the distance. In the centre of the bridge, Mister stepped back a little from the rails and put his palms together.<br />
<p>“Nao, do what I’m doing.”<br />
<p>“Why?”<br />
<p>“It’s a jinx for good luck.”<br />
<p>I placed my palms together like Mister’s. Right afterwards, Mister took my hand and started walking. Mister had said he would tell me all about my sister, but I felt like I wasn’t allowed to ask. Mister had also looked sad when he talked about her.<br />
<p>When we got home, the gate was ajar. I thought Dad had come home, but we went through the gates and were met with a surprise. A white skirt, a big, wide-brimmed hat. Mom was standing in front of the door.<br />
<p>“Nao!”<br />
<p>Mom ran up to me, crouched, and hugged me tight.<br />
<p>“I―I was worried about you!”<br />
<p>I could tell from how tightly she hugged me that she wasn’t lying. <br />
<p>“I’m sorry,” Nao mumbled in a small voice.<br />
<p>“When I heard the story from your grandmother, I thought my heart would stop. Coming all this way by yourself... what if you’d gotten lost? What if you’d been kidnapped?!”<br />
<p>Mom stood up. Still holding my hand tightly, she fixed Mister with an angry glare.<br />
<p>“You and Douno must be out of your minds! Why would I let such a small child like him come here by himself?! Why didn’t you call me or my mother?!”<br />
<p>“...I’m sorry.” Mister lowered his head to Mom.<br />
<p>“It’s not Dad’s or Mister’s fault,” I protested. “I lied to Grandma and came here. I really, really wanted to see Dad... that’s why...”<br />
<p>“This is a grownup matter. You stay out of this,” Mom snapped sternly at me.<br />
<p>“Takafumi’s been trying to get a hold of you,” Mister said. “He kept calling your cell phone. You were overseas, right?”<br />
<p>Mom’s face flushed red and I saw her bite her lip.<br />
<p>“So what if I was?” she said accusingly. “Are you trying to say I’m an irresponsible mother for leaving my child to go on a trip?”<br />
<p>“No, I was just...” Mister looked like he was at a loss. <br />
<p>“This is my life. This child is my son. This has nothing to do with either of you.”<br />
<p>Mom’s temper was rising. Mister couldn’t say anything back to her.<br />
<p>“Don’t you have any common sense? Why would you even think I’d let him come to stay in a household with two men? I’m taking Nao home with me. Please don’t ever involve yourselves with him again.”<br />
<p>Mom yanked my hand and tried to take me beyond the fence.<br />
<p>“Mom, wait―my backpack.” I dug my heels in. “I left my backpack, and it has important stuff in it. I’ll go get it now.”<br />
<p>Mom was reluctant, but in the end she let me go. I stepped inside the house and got my backpack from the room with the table. Mom had said she was coming home this morning. I’d totally forgotten.<br />
<p>“Did you lie to your mother when you came here?” I heard Mister’s voice behind me. I couldn’t turn around. I couldn’t meet his eyes.<br />
<p>“...Mom wouldn’t even tell me Dad’s name,” I said. “I wanted to see him. That’s why I lied to Grandma and got her to tell me.”<br />
<p>I thought he would be like Mom and yell at me like a thunderclap, but Mister only patted me on the head.<br />
<p>“Don’t make your mother worry too much,” he murmured. <br />
<p>Once I slung on my backpack, I turned around. Mister handed me a paper bag.<br />
<p>“Take this home,” he said. I peeked inside and saw lots of fireworks. “Light them with your friends,” Mister said.<br />
<p>“’Kay,” I said, and nodded. So many fireworks. <i>I wish I could’ve lit them in this garden,</i> I thought.<br />
<p>“Takafumi bought those fireworks, you know.”<br />
<p>I looked up to see Mister crinkling his eyes in a smile.<br />
<p>“He also bought the futon. Takafumi was just surprised at your sudden visit. He doesn’t hate you. No one buys fireworks or takes time off work to spend time with a kid he hates.”<br />
<p>Inside my chest, something curled in pain. I clutched the fireworks tightly in my arms, on the verge of tears. Mister placed a hand on my head.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said. I didn’t understand why he was apologizing.<br />
<p>I was taken by the hand to the front door, and handed over to my mother.<br />
<p>“Mister, wh―where’s Dad?” I’d dreaded him so much, but now I wanted to see him. I wanted to see Dad.<br />
<p>“Probably gone to buy lunch. He should be back soon.”<br />
<p>I wanted to wait for Dad, but Mom kept pulling me by the hand. I managed to turn my head back.<br />
<p>“Can I come and play again? Can I come back? Can I say sorry to Shiro?”<br />
<p>“Sure you can,” Mister said.<br />
<p>“Mister, mister, can you tell Dad I said thank you? Can you tell him I said sorry? Please... please...”<br />
<p>Nao was half-dragged past the gates. His mother yanked his hand forcefully. <i>I wanted to see Dad’s face, I wanted to tell him thank you for the fireworks.</i> Nao resented his mother for not waiting until Dad came home. He hugged the fireworks to his chest and sobbed as he walked, and soon his mother began to cry, too. She leaned sideways on the wall, covering her face. Her shoulders shook.<br />
<p>“Mom, what’s wrong?”<br />
<p>She wouldn’t answer. It was Nao’s first time seeing his mother cry like this, and he didn’t know what to do.<br />
<p>“Don’t cry, Mom. Please?”<br />
<p>His mother cried even harder, and she pulled Nao into a suffocating embrace. A while later, her tears finally receded, and she wiped her red eyes with a handkerchief.<br />
<p>Nao heard a slam in the open lot beside the wall. Dad was climbing out of the white car parked in the lot. There was no doubt about it. It was him―he was back from shopping.<br />
<p>Nao’s feet moved before he could think. He left his mother’s side and ran up to the car. Just as Dad closed the passenger door, Nao yanked his jacket as hard as he could.<br />
<p>“Huh?” Dad looked surprised. “Wh―Nao?” <br />
<p>Nao hugged the bag to his chest.<br />
<p>“D―Dad, thank you for the fireworks.”<br />
<p>“Fireworks?” Dad murmured at first. “Oh,” he said, then nodded slightly. “Did Kei show them to you?”<br />
<p>Nao nodded.<br />
<p>“Let’s light them in the yard when it gets dark.” Dad hesitantly reached out and ran his hand over my head. Softly, carefully. My whole body tingled like I’d been shocked by electricity, and tears almost sprang to my eyes.<br />
<p>“Nao!” Mom’s sharp voice rang out behind me. She came up with a scary look on her face and squeezed my hand.<br />
<p>“...It’s been a while.” Mom’s voice was stiff.<br />
<p>“It really has been a while.” Dad’s voice didn’t change much.<br />
<p>“It looks like you’re still the same as ever... with Mr. Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>Dad dropped his gaze at Mom’s prickly tone.<br />
<p>“I’m taking Nao home,” Mom said. “Thank you for taking care of him.” She turned her back to Dad, and yanked at my hand. We were getting further and further away from Dad.<br />
<p>“Mariko.”<br />
<p>Mom’s shoulders flinched at Dad’s voice. She slowly turned around.<br />
<p>“I bought something for Nao. ―Is it alright if I give it to him?”<br />
<p>Mom pursed her lips in a line disapprovingly. She looked down in silence for a while, then released her grip on her child’s hand. <br />
<p>“...Go on,” she said in a small voice, giving me a push on the back.<br />
<p>I ran over to Dad. Dad took a hat out of the paper bag he’d been holding, and placed it on my head. It was a kids’ baseball cap.<br />
<p>“I heard from Kei that you didn’t have a hat.”<br />
<p>“...Thank you.”<br />
<p>“You’re welcome.” Dad smiled. His eyes narrowed and small wrinkles formed at the edges of his eyes. It was a gentle face. It was the same face I’d seen in the photos.<br />
<p>“Bye, now. Take care...."<br />
<p>―Mom called my name behind me.<br />
<br />
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<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-summer-vacation_30.html">PART 3</a>.</center><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-57896329348138435772013-09-15T21:58:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.419-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box / Summer Vacation - Pt. 1This short story was published in the Holly Novels edition of <i>Out of the Cage</i>.<br />
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*This story features multiple narrative voices. This follows the original Japanese and is intentional. I've done my best to make it sound natural in English. My apologies if it isn't!<br />
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<center>SUMMER VACATION</center><br />
<br />
When the train leaned steeply, his own body was pulled along with it. Even after the rails straightened out, the train continued to clatter at regular, measured intervals. When they approached a station, the next stop and connecting lines were announced over the PA. Although he knew he had his directions right, Nao Takamura nevertheless pressed his face against the glass and peered at the station sign every time they slowed to a stop.<br />
<p>There were only a handful of people on the train: two girls about his age; an old man with a cane; a businessman who was falling asleep with his mouth open wide, like a carp waiting to be fed. There was also an older girl who looked like she was in high school. She was talking on a cell phone which had lots of keychains hanging off of it. Her talking was louder than the clattering of the train.<br />
<p>A moment ago, they had been ducking through what looked like an alleyway, drawing right up close to the houses. Now, suddenly the scenery opened up before his eyes. He could see the ocean through the window on the left. It was a deeper blue than the sky, and it sparkled and glittered. The sight was enough to make his heart beat faster. The train ran along the ocean for a little while before diving once again into an alleyway-like gap between the houses. <a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Tsumagi... said the sign at the station. He got off. The coolness of the train had made him completely forget how hot it was outside. The strong rays felt like scorching prickles on his skin, and the shadow at his feet was stark. A sheen of sweat appeared on his brow.<br />
<p>There was no shopping district right outside the station, like the town where Nao lived. There was a bus stop out front, but no cars on the road in front of it. Nao shouldered his backpack and took out a crumpled piece of paper from the pocket of his shorts. He stopped an older man in coveralls who tried to slip past him.<br />
<p>“Excuse me, can you tell me where the police station is?” The goodhearted man took him to the police station beside an eyeglass store, about a five-minute walk from the station. There was a young officer sitting inside the police station, and when he noticed Nao, he crouched down with a gentle expression on his face.<br />
<p>“What’s wrong? Are you lost?” he asked.<br />
<p>“I want to go to the place that’s on this paper.”<br />
<p>The officer peered at the wrinkled scrap of paper as he knitted his brow.<br />
<p>“Hmmm,” he said. “It’s a bit far from here. For you, it might be a thirty-minute walk or so.”<br />
<p>“I can walk.”<br />
<p>“What grade are you in?”<br />
<p>“Grade three.”<br />
<p>The officer grimaced and hummed indecisively before going around behind his desk and retrieving a piece of paper.<br />
<p>“This is a map of the area. You’re right here.” He marked the middle of the map with a marker. “Keep going right on this path. When you see Ito’s Barbershop on your right-hand side, turn left. Keep walking, and take the third turn to the left. Then you have to walk quite a bit more, and you should see a small bridge called Ginrou Bridge. Cross that and walk for a bit more, and that’s where it’ll be.”<br />
<p>The police station and his destination were now connected by a fluorescent-yellow line.<br />
<p>“Are you going to Grandma’s place? A friend’s house?”<br />
<p>Nao looked up from the map and stared at the officer in the eye.<br />
<p>“I’m going to see my father.”<br />
<p>“Your father?”<br />
<p>“My parents got divorced when I was small. My father lives here.”<br />
<p>The officer suddenly looked at Nao with pity. “...I see,” he said. “Does your father know you’re coming?”<br />
<p>“No.”<br />
<p>“I see,” the officer murmured again. <br />
<p>“Thank you for giving me directions.” Nao bowed like he did at his school’s morning assembly, and left the police station with the map in hand. He took the path to the right and kept walking. His forehead was sweaty, and so was his back. It was sticky and uncomfortable. His head was hot, too. Just then, he remembered how his mother always told him to wear a hat.<br />
<p>He glanced left and right over and over, and when he started getting anxious about whether he had gone too far or not, he was relieved to see Itou’s Barbershop. He arrived at the small bridge called Ginrou Bridge, written in Chinese characters he could not read. He built up momentum and leapt across it, and was able to cross it in seven steps. From there, he looked at the map and counted the number of houses. The fourth one―this was it.<br />
<p><i>Dad lives here.</i> The thought made his heart suddenly beat faster. His father’s house was a little far away from the rest. It was surrounded on all sides by a wooden fence about the same height as a grown adult. Nao glanced at his surroundings as he walked once around the house. Apart from the entrance facing the sidewalk, there was another entrance on the opposite side of the house. At the sidewalk entrance, Nao pushed the wooden gate lightly, and it yielded easily and swung inwards. He slowly and cautiously peeked inside.<br />
<p>The yard was very spacious, and there were many trees. The path leading from the gate to the entrance of the house looked like it had been paved with concrete. <i>What should I do, what should I do?</i> Nao carefully stepped forward, still battling his confusion.<br />
<p>There was a nameplate on the pillar at the entrance. It read “Kitagawa”. Nao spread open the piece of paper that was now damp from clenching it in his hand. His father’s name was Takafumi Douno. His grandmother had taught him how to read the Chinese characters. But the name on the nameplate was not it.<br />
<p><i>Does that mean this isn’t Dad’s house? Did I get my directions wrong?</i> His thoughts were broken by a dog barking. His whole body flinched. There was a dog barking in the far end of the yard. It was a sandy-coloured dog. Its leash was too short for it to come this far, so the dog stood on its hind legs and barked at him loudly. Nao was terrified enough to wet his pants, but his knees shook and he could not move.<br />
<p>“What’s wrong, Ao?”<br />
<p>He heard an adult voice.<br />
<p>“Is someone there?”<br />
<p>A man emerged from the dense green leaves of the yard. He was wearing a T-shirt and shorts. On his feet were bamboo sandals. He was really tall. His hair was short, and his face was... scary. His eyes were scary. His father had looked so much more gentle in the photos.<br />
<p>“Who’re you?” The man looked down at him.<br />
<p>“A... Are you my dad?”<br />
<p>The man slowly tilted his head.<br />
<p>“M―My name is Nao Takamura. I came to―to see my dad.”<br />
<p><i>When my dad sees me, he’ll smile, pick me up and say, “Nao, you’ve gotten so big.” Then he’d say, “Did you come here all by yourself? Good for you.” </i>That was what he had expected, but his real dad was scary. Very scary.<br />
<p>“What’s your dad’s name?”<br />
<p>Nao felt like crying that his father would ask him such a question.<br />
<p>“Takafumi Douno.”<br />
<p>The man crouched in front of him and reached out. Feeling like the hand was about to hit him, Nao flinched. The man’s large palm did not hit him, but instead ruffled Nao’s damp hair so roughly it hurt.<br />
<p>“Your dad is at work. He won’t be home ‘til evening,” the man said brusquely. Nao had assumed he could see his dad if he went to his house. He had never even thought of what to do if he wasn’t home. <i>But at least this scary man isn’t my dad. </i>He was relieved at the thought. <br />
<p>“Where’s your mom? Isn’t she here with you?”<br />
<p>Nao gulped and gripped the straps of his backpack.<br />
<p>“...She’s on a trip. She said I could stay at my dad’s place while she was away.” It was a lie. It was true that his mother had gone on a trip, but she had told him to stay at Grandma’s place while she was gone. He had gone to his grandmother’s, but had wanted to see his father so badly that he had lied to her, telling her that his mom had said he was allowed to go over to his dad’s house to play. He had left his grandmother’s house this morning. He had transferred once on the train and clattered along, finally arriving at the station nearest to his father’s house past noon.<br />
<p>The man was staring at him. <br />
<p>“How old are you?” he finally asked.<br />
<p>“Nine years old.”<br />
<p>“Which means you’re in third grade, huh? Is school fun?”<br />
<p>Nao nodded once.<br />
<p>“Do you have lots of friends?”<br />
<p>“Average.”<br />
<p>The man grinned and stood up. He grabbed Nao’s wrist as he still clung to his shoulder straps.<br />
<p>“Come on in and wait inside until Takafumi gets home.”<br />
<p>Nao was taken into the house by the tall man, who half-dragged him by the hand. The house looked old on the outside, but it looked old on the inside, too. The entrance had a steep step. The faded white walls had cracks in them, and were peeling in the corners. The lighting on the ceiling had no covers, and the bare light bulbs dangled in the air.<br />
<p>When he stepped into the hallway, the floorboards creaked. The man brought Nao to a room with <i>tatami</i> flooring. It was a bare room with sparse furnishings. There was a television against the wall, and a large low table in the middle of the room. That was it. However, the top of the table was littered with many sheets and books, pencils and erasers.<br />
<p>There was a large window across the room from the entrance, and it was thrown open wide. Beyond that was the porch and the yard. In the yard there was a dog house with a red roof, and the same dog was barking with its snout in the air.<br />
<p>The man left the room. Nao shrugged his backpack off and put it down against the wall. His watch said it was two o’clock. <i>I wonder when Dad’s gonna come home</i>, he wondered, when he felt a breeze on the back of his neck. It was hot outside, but the breeze made it cool.<br />
<p>“Here.”<br />
<p>The man brought him cold tea on a tray. There was a banana beside it.<br />
<p>“Oh. Thank you.” Nao was hungry, since he had only had breakfast and eaten nothing for lunch. He immediately went for the banana first and stuffed his mouth. The cold barley tea went smoothly down his throat. It felt cold and nice. Eating kept him fully occupied. When he was done, Nao looked up at the man to see him sitting cross-legged at the table and making scraping sounds as he drew something out on paper.<br />
<p>“Um―”<br />
<p>The man stopped and looked up.<br />
<p>“Who are you, mister? Isn’t this my dad’s house?”<br />
<p>The man was looking at him, but wasn’t answering. The cicadas were buzzing loudly in the yard. Finally, the man’s lips appeared to move.<br />
<p>“I’m Kitagawa. I’m your dad’s friend, and I live here with him.”<br />
<p>“Oh.”<br />
<p>He began drawing again.<br />
<p>“Um―”<br />
<p>His hand stopped. <acronym title="Although Kitagawa is called “Mister” by Nao throughout, the original Japanese word ojisan can also mean “Uncle”.">Mister</acronym> looked this way.<br />
<p>“What kind of person is my dad?”<br />
<p>The man’s eyes moved away from him and roved. “Let’s see... he’s honest and gentle.”<br />
<p><i>Gentle.</i> Hearing that made him happy. The face he had seen in photos had been smiling gently, too.<br />
<p>“How old is my dad?”<br />
<p>“His age? He’s... two years older than me, so forty-six.”<br />
<p>“And his height? How tall is he?”<br />
<p>“I think about 170? He’s shorter than me.”<br />
<p>“What does he like to eat?”<br />
<p>“Curry, <i><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mapo_doufu" target="_blank">mapo doufu</a></i>, stuff like that.”<br />
<p>“I like curry, too.”<br />
<p>Mister grinned. “So do I.”<br />
<p>At first he’d thought Mister was a scary old man, but he wasn’t. His face looked gentle when he smiled.<br />
<p>“What kind of work does my dad do?”<br />
<p>“He calculates stuff for a factory that makes food.”<br />
<p>“Uh-huh...” His father, whom he had only seen in photos, was slowly being pieced together into a human shape, like he was putting pieces of a miniature model together. Suddenly the dog barked, and Nao’s shoulders tensed.<br />
<p>“You don’t like dogs?”<br />
<p>“I’m scared of getting bitten, so I usually don’t get close.”<br />
<p>“Ao can be noisy when he barks, but he doesn’t bite.”<br />
<p>Even though Mister said he didn’t bite, the dog was still scary when it was barking with its big jaws and its big voice. Nao had wanted a smaller dog like a dachshund or a chihuahua, or a cat, but they weren’t allowed to keep pets in their current apartment.<br />
<p>“Is this dog my dad’s?”<br />
<p>“He’s both of ours. We have a cat, too.”<br />
<p>“A cat?”<br />
<p>Mister went out to the porch. “Shiro, Shiro,” he called, and a white cat came out of the bushes across from them. It meowed in a cute voice. The cat sprang up onto the porch and purred as Mister petted it. Mister scooped it up and brought it over to him.<br />
<p>“Wanna try touching it?”<br />
<p>Nao carefully reached out. The cat had soft, fluffy fur, and it felt nice. Mister handed the cat over to Nao, but the cat arched its back, twisted out of the child’s arms and escaped into the bushes.<br />
<p>“It can be a bit shy,” Mister muttered, then sat down in front of the table. Nao peered at his hands as he wielded a pencil. It was a drawing of a large building and a woman.<br />
<p>“Mister, are you drawing a picture?”<br />
<p>“Yeah.”<br />
<p>“It’s soooo good. You’re like an artist!” Their eyes met, and Mister grinned.<br />
<p>“Want me to draw a picture of you?”<br />
<p>“What? Really?”<br />
<p>Mister pushed the half-finished drawing aside and took out a fresh sheet. His pencil raced across it with speedy strokes. Thin lines overlapped before Nao’s eyes and formed the shape of a face.<br />
<p>“There. Done.”<br />
<p>Not even ten minutes had passed, and on the desk was an image of his face.<br />
<p>“Wow! It looks just like me! That’s so cool!”<br />
<p>Whenever Mister grinned, gentle wrinkles formed at the edges of his eyes.<br />
<p>“Drawing is my job,” he said.<br />
<p>“So you really are an artist, Mister?”<br />
<p>“I illustrate for books or do individual pieces. Stuff like this.”<br />
<p>He drew out a book buried in the mountain of papers on the table, flipped open to a page, and showed it to him. There were lots of words on the page, mixed with what looked like English. It looked like a difficult book. There were pictures, but he couldn’t tell what they were of.<br />
<p>“What’s this a picture of?”<br />
<p>“It’s a tendon of the foot. This is a book that doctors look at.”<br />
<p>“Okay,” Nao replied, without really knowing what a tendon was. He flipped through the pages, but there were a lot of disturbing pictures and photos, and he closed the book soon after.<br />
<p>Mister had begun drawing again.<br />
<p>“Um... can I make a phone call?” Nao asked.<br />
<p>“Over there,” Mister said, pointing at the telephone handset near the TV. Nao took the handset out of the charger and left the room discreetly. Once he got to the end of the hallway, he phoned his grandmother.<br />
<p>“Hello? Grandma? I got to Dad’s place safely. Yeah, I was fine taking the train by myself...”<br />
<p>His grandmother asked to speak to his father, saying she wanted to say hello.<br />
<p>“Dad, um... seems to be busy at work. Bye.” With that, he hung up the phone without letting her reply. He had told his grandmother he would stay at his father’s place for three days. On the fourth day, his mother would come back from her trip overseas and would be coming to pick him up at his grandmother’s house.<br />
<p>“Thank you for letting me use the phone.” Even after he returned the phone with those words, Mister said nothing to him. His face almost touched the paper and he was focused completely on drawing. Nao sat down with his back to the wall. The wall clock read 2:45. Nao’s watch was five minutes faster. <br />
<p><i>How much longer until I get to see Dad?</i> he wondered as he closed his eyes. <i>When I see him, what should I say? Maybe he wouldn’t recognize me unless I introduce myself first. The air is cool, but it’s still a little too hot here....</i> Nao’s thoughts trailed off, and before he realized it, he was asleep.<br />
<p><i>Hey―</i>said a voice. It was past four when he was shaken awake. Nao rubbed his eyes with his hands. The sun, which had been shining on the porch, now came up to Nao’s ankle.<br />
<p>“Takafumi always comes back past six. I’m going to go grocery shopping for today’s dinner while I walk Ao. Wanna come?”<br />
<p>“Yeah!”<br />
<p>Mister placed a hand on Nao’s head and ruffled his hair so hard it hurt.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>He was told to wear a hat because it was still hot out. When Nao said he’d forgotten his, a straw hat that was much too big was plopped onto his head. He thought it looked kind of dorky, but he couldn’t bring himself to say he didn’t want to wear it.<br />
<p>Ao barked a lot, but didn’t bite. When Nao held his leash, Ao wagged his tail furiously and hopped on his hind legs as he playfully jumped on Nao.<br />
<p>“Unlike Shiro, this guy’s a friendly one. He’s happy because he thinks he’ll get to play with you.”<br />
<p>Mister left Ao to Nao, and lumbered on ahead of him. Ao followed Mister, and Nao was dragged along. He realized dogs were much, much stronger than what he’d thought. Sometimes Ao yanked so hard at the leash he thought his arm would pop off, but it was fun.<br />
<p>He’d been envious seeing other kids walk their dogs in the park near his apartment. He’d tried not to feel that way, though. If he let himself be jealous, he would start wondering why he wasn’t allowed to have one, and he’d feel horrible afterwards.<br />
<p>“Mister, what kind of dog is Ao?”<br />
<p>“Probably a mutt.”<br />
<p>They walked along the small river which he’d crossed in seven steps. The further they walked, the wider the river got, and the sidewalk also widened.<br />
<p>“You didn’t buy it at a store?”<br />
<p>Mister turned around and looked at him curiously. “Why would you buy one at a store?”<br />
<p>“...All my friends who have dogs said they bought them at the store.”<br />
<p>“You can just pick up a dog anywhere.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but...”<br />
<p>Ao barked. Mister stopped in his tracks and squatted to pet Ao on the head. Ao was licking Mister’s face.<br />
<p>“This Ao is the second one. The first Ao, his mom, was abandoned near my workplace when I still used to work at construction sites.”<br />
<p>“What kind of work do you do at construction sites?”<br />
<p>Nao squatted like Mister.<br />
<p>“Digging holes, making dirt piles... well, manual labour. But I couldn’t work there anymore because I got hurt.”<br />
<p>“You got hurt?”<br />
<p>“A huge piece of lumber fell, and my left arm got pinned underneath. After that, I stopped being able to put strength in my left arm, and I couldn’t hold or carry heavy stuff over my shoulder anymore. I could hold a book, but that wasn’t going to be any use at the site. So I was wondering what I could do to make a living, and Takafumi said, ‘why don’t you draw?’ From then on, my job became to draw pictures.”<br />
<p>When they got to the riverbank, Ao dashed all the way to the bottom. Yanked by his leash, Nao tipped forward on the riverbank, and began tumbling down. The leash slipped out of his hand, and Ao trailed it behind him as he ran happily around Nao.<br />
<p>Nao’s knees and his palms hurt from falling down. He heard laughter, and turned around to see Mister looking this way and guffawing. He made it sound so funny that Nao started to think it was funny, too. Even though he was hurt, he couldn’t help but chuckle. Mister picked up the straw hat that had fallen off Nao’s head partway down, and came down towards him.<br />
<p>“You okay?”<br />
<p>“It’s nothing.” It actually hurt a bit, but Nao sucked it up. The straw hat was plopped back on his head. Mister turned back west towards the sun.<br />
<p>“―You can tell it’s summer. It’s still light outside in the evening,” he murmured.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>In the tiny kitchen, I helped make curry. <br />
<p>“You gotta help, too,” said Mister, and he made me put on a huge apron. While I peeled the onions, tears started streaming from my eyes. When Mister saw me, he laughed again. Fed up with being laughed at, I tried to hold them in, but my tears didn’t stop running.<br />
<p>I also used a knife for the first time. At home, mom never let me touch it. Unsure of how to use it, I stabbed the carrot from above with a <i>thunk</i>. Mister clutched his sides as he laughed. He was far from scary. He laughed a lot.<br />
<p>We let the vegetables and meat stew for a good while, and right when we put the curry roux<a href="#sv1" name="sv1r"><sup>[1]</sup></a> in, we heard a voice at the entrance. “I’m home,” it said.<br />
<p>“Takafumi’s home,” muttered Mister. Dad was home. Dad, whom I’d only seen in photos before. <i>Creak, creak</i>. The footsteps were coming closer.<br />
<p>“Kei, is someone over?”<br />
<p>I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear his voice first.<br />
<p>“Are you in the kitchen?”<br />
<p>I saw a figure in the entrance of the kitchen. It was Dad. I knew it the moment I saw him. He looked a little older than his photos. Dad was wearing a jacket and a tie, and he looked like the businessmen I saw at the station. My heart started pounding. I knew I had to introduce myself, or else Dad probably wouldn’t know who I was. I tried to speak, but I felt nervous like I did at school plays, and I couldn’t find my voice.<br />
<p>Dad was looking at me curiously.<br />
<p>“And this boy?” Dad asked Mister. <br />
<p>“Your kid.”<br />
<p>“What?” cried Dad as his eyes widened. He put his hand to his half-open mouth, and drew his eyebrows together. I felt a pang in my chest at his face, which seemed to look at me like I was unwanted trouble.<br />
<p>Nao bit his lip and politely bowed his head.<br />
<p>“I’m Nao Takamura. I heard from my mom that you got divorced when I was little.”<br />
<p>“Oh... right...” Dad murmured, then looked at Mister. “Did Mariko bring him here?”<br />
<p>“No. He came alone. I thought you and your wife had something figured out already?”<br />
<p>“I haven’t heard anything from her. Even if she’d told me something, I would have talked to you about it in advance.”<br />
<p>Dad raked his hand through his bangs and looked down at Nao with a slightly severe expression. <br />
<p>“...I want to speak to your mother. Could you tell me her phone number?”<br />
<p>“My mom is on a trip. She said I could stay with you during that time.” His voice shook as he told the lie.<br />
<p>“She might have said that, but I still want to talk to her. I want you to tell me her phone number.” His wording was gentle, but there was a finality in his tone that wouldn’t take no for an answer. Nao told him his mother’s cell phone number, and his dad called his mom on the spot.<br />
<p>“It’s not getting through,” Dad muttered as he flipped his cell phone shut. <br />
<p>“My mom’s on a trip overseas.”<br />
<p>At Nao’s words, Dad looked down and let out a long sigh.<br />
<p>“Can we eat? I’m starving.” Mister stirred the curry lazily in stark contrast to Dad’s bristling aura.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>We ate dinner in the room with the table that Mister was drawing at. I had fun walking a dog for the first time. I had fun shopping and making curry. But eating wasn’t fun. Even though I was hungry, I didn’t feel like eating.<br />
<p>“What has your mother told you about me?”<br />
<p>Dad asked me questions once in a while.<br />
<p>“She said she divorced you right after I was born.”<br />
<p>There were so many things I wanted to ask before I met Dad. But now I couldn’t remember any of them. I’d only eaten half of how much I usually eat, and I was already full.<br />
<p>“Did your mother say anything else?”<br />
<p>“She didn’t tell me much about you.”<br />
<p>It was very quiet at nighttime. The sound of cars passing by outside was few and far-between. There was a TV, but it wasn’t on. I couldn’t ask for it to be turned on. If this was Grandma’s place, I could, but I couldn’t say that here.<br />
<p>“Oh, but... I had a sister... Grandma told me I had a sister, but she died.”<br />
<p>Dad looked away awkwardly. From then on until the meal was over, Dad neither talked to me nor tried to make eye contact with me.<br />
<p>After the meal, I was told to take a bath. The bathroom was dim and tiled, and the tiles were chipped and cracked in places, and were dirty. I quickly washed my hair and body, but didn’t get into the bathtub. I changed into my pyjamas, and was walking down the dim hallway when I spotted light seeping out of the room with the table. I could hear Dad’s voice.<br />
<p>“I don’t know what Mariko’s thinking. After all this time, why would she choose to send him over to us now, with no word at all?”<br />
<p>My arms shook as I clutched the clothes I’d changed out of.<br />
<p>“Maybe because the kid’ll be alone during her trip?” That was Mister’s voice.<br />
<p>“Mariko has her sister and her parents.”<br />
<p>“Maybe they couldn’t take care of him.”<br />
<p>“But still, there’s something off. I haven’t seen him even once since he was born. Mariko knows that.”<br />
<p>I wanted to burst out of the house. I wanted to go back to Grandma’s place. Dad thought I was a nuisance. I knew he did―<br />
<p>“I’m not saying I don’t want to take care of him, I just―I wish I had time to mentally prepare myself. And I don’t know how much Mariko has told him. I can’t say anything without being afraid of letting something slip.”<br />
<p>It turned quiet as Dad and Mister stopped talking. But I couldn’t get close to that room.<br />
<p>“Maybe the trip is just an excuse, and Nao just wanted to see you,” I heard Mister say quietly.<br />
<p>“See me?”<br />
<p>“Kids want to see their parents, don’t they? A long time ago, I used to want to see my dad, too. Now, I don’t really care.”<br />
<p>The <i>tatami</i> mats creaked. A looming shadow crossed the light seeping into the hallway. Nao stepped forward, not wanting them to think he had been eavesdropping. It was Mister who came out into the hallway.<br />
<p>“How was your bath? Good?” Mister grinned. Nao nodded silently.<br />
<p>“You like eating watermelons?”<br />
<p>“...Yeah.”<br />
<p>“Then I’ll cut you some. Sit tight in the room.”<br />
<p>Mister went into the kitchen. If I went back to that room now, I’d be alone with Dad. Suddenly my feet felt heavy, and I stamped lightly on the spot. I didn’t want to be alone with Dad. But if I stayed in the hallway, they’d probably ask me why I wasn’t going into the room.<br />
<p>When I shuffled into the room, Dad looked this way. I felt like his eyes were saying, “You’re a nuisance,” and it scared me.<br />
<p>“Thank you for letting me use the bath.” I thanked him and went to my backpack in the corner of the room. I turned my back to Dad and stuffed my dirty clothes into the bottom of my bag.<br />
<p>“It must have been a long way here from your house. How did you get here?”<br />
<p>It was back to the questions he’d been asking at dinner. <br />
<p>“The train,” I answered without turning around.<br />
<p>“You took the train by yourself? Good for you. Did your mother tell you this address?”<br />
<p>I nodded with my back still turned. It was a lie. Mom wouldn’t tell me when I told her I wanted to see Dad. That’s why I lied to Grandma and got her to tell me by saying Mom had told me to ask her.<br />
<p>“I sliced some watermelon.”<br />
<p>Mister came into the room. We sat side-by-side on the porch and ate them together. Dad said he was full, and didn’t come out to the porch beside me, and didn’t touch the watermelon.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Dad and Mister said they didn’t have a guest futon, so the three of us lay down in the same futon together. I lay down beside Dad, but I was nervous, and thought about all sorts of things and couldn’t sleep.<br />
<p>Every year during summer vacation, I went to Grandma’s house. I was playing in the closets one day last year when I found old photo albums. I found Mom’s photos in one of them. She was carrying a little girl, and beside her was a gentle-looking man. There was nothing written on the photo, but I felt like this man must be my dad. When I showed the album to Grandma, she told me the gentle-looking man really was my dad, and the girl was my big sister who had died.<br />
<p>At the end of the summer, when Mom came to pick me up at Grandma’s place, I told her I wanted to meet Dad. <br />
<p>“Absolutely not!” she’d snapped, looking pale. That scared me and made me cry at first, but I wanted to see Dad more and more as the days passed.<br />
<p>I’d really, <i>really</i> wanted to see him, but this was different from what I’d thought. If this was what it was going to be like, I shouldn’t have come to meet him at all. The futon shifted as I felt someone roll over beside me. Dad was rolling over a lot. Maybe he’s having trouble sleeping, too, I thought. Then, our eyes met in the dimness.<br />
<p>“You can’t sleep?”<br />
<p>“...I think I’ll fall asleep soon.”<br />
<p>Nao pulled the towel blanket up to his mouth.<br />
<p>“I know it must be hard to sleep, since you’re in a strange house and the futon is tiny...”<br />
<p>One futon was really small for three people. And there was one thing that had been on Nao’s mind. Dad’s voice seemed gentler now―now, he felt like he could ask. He opened his mouth.<br />
<p>“Why do you and Mister sleep in the same futon?”<br />
<p>Despite how dim it was in the room, he could clearly sense Dad grimace.<br />
<p>“That’s because...”<br />
<p>“That’s because your dad and I are poor,” answered Mister, who was on the other side of Dad. “That’s why we don’t have a guest futon, either.”<br />
<p>That one word “poor” was enough to convince Nao. Although the yard was big, this house itself was very old. The walls were dirty, the bathroom was dirty, and the halls creaked every time he walked down them. Their dog, too, had been picked up and not bought from a pet store. There’d been lots of hints that they were poor.<br />
<p>“I don’t have much, but I brought some allowance. I’ll pay for my food.”<br />
<p>Suddenly, Mister burst out laughing.<br />
<p>“Kei!” Dad scolded him sharply. To Nao, he said, “We may not be rich, but we have enough to pay for food. You don’t have to worry about that stuff. Just go to sleep.”<br />
<p>Nao had only said he’d pay because they said they were poor. He had only tried to be as considerate as he could, but he’d only made himself more of a nuisance. His chest began to throb in pain. Nao turned his back to his dad, pulled the towel blanket over his head, and cried a little.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>I couldn’t remember when I’d fallen asleep. It was probably late. Mister woke me up at seven-thirty in the morning. I washed my face and stepped into the room with the table. Dad was wearing a suit and kneeling at the table, eating breakfast.<br />
<p>“Morning,” he said.<br />
<p>“Good morning...” I answered in a small voice. The meal laid out on the table was <i>miso</i> soup, egg, and rice. I always had bread in the morning, and didn’t feel like eating rice, either. I left most of my portion untouched. Dad said his greetings and left before eight. He hadn’t said anything apart from “Morning.” But I was kind of relieved that Dad was gone.<br />
<p>“Hey!” Mister called to me. His voice came from the kitchen. When I peeked in, he was standing at the sink, gesturing for me to come over.<br />
<p>“Help me out.”<br />
<p>“With what?”<br />
<p>“We’re gonna wash the dishes. You ate out of them, too, didn’t you?”<br />
<p>I went to the sink, put on an apron, and grabbed a sponge. But the sink was deep and it was hard to wash in it. I wobbled on my tip-toes until Mister told me to get the stepping stool that was in the shed.<br />
<p>I went out through the front door and all the way around to the back yard. I was startled when Ao started barking at me. He didn’t seem to mean to surprise me, though. He wagged his tail so hard it looked like it would fly off, and panted enthusiastically.<br />
<p>Nao found the storage shed in the yard, which was dilapidated like the bird coop they no longer used at primary school. The corrugated iron roof was rusty, and the door had been left open. He dug out a dusty step-ladder from the collapsing shed and returned to the kitchen to find Mister with a wrinkled brow and a guilty expression on his face.<br />
<p>“I ended up finishing the dishes.” He clucked his tongue, and Nao clutched his sides as he dissolved in laughter. Mister scratched his head and said, “But you’re doing the dishes at dinner.” He went back to the room with the table, and placed a cookie tin on its large surface. It was a little early for a ten o’clock snack, but nevertheless, Nao peered inside expectantly. Inside the tin were pencils, erasers, and pens. Next, Mister put a large case on the table and took out a piece of white paper.<br />
<p>“Are you gonna do your work, Mister?”<br />
<p>“Yeah.”<br />
<p>“Can I watch?”<br />
<p>“Sure.”<br />
<p>Mister began to draw. His pencil whizzed back and forth like it was alive, and it was interesting to watch people’s faces and buildings forming on the paper. But even that got boring after a long time.<br />
<p>Nao moved to a corner of the room and hugged his knees. The cicadas whined. Ao was curled up in the shade of a tree. Shiro was nowhere to be seen this morning. It was probably only the beginning of the day, but he was already so bored he felt like he would melt.<br />
<p>“Hey.”<br />
<p>Nao lifted his face. Mister was looking straight this way.<br />
<p>“Did you bring swimming trunks?”<br />
<p>“...Yeah.”<br />
<p>“Want me to take you swimming?”<br />
<p>“Yeah!”<br />
<p>His boredom disappeared. Nao could feel his own mouth stretching into a grin.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The bicycle sped along as fast as a car. It was scary. That was why I held on as tight as I could to the broad back in front of me. First, we went into an old-looking Western clothing store in the shopping district.<br />
<p>“I’m looking for swimming trunks,” Mister said. A hobbling old woman with a cane looked at me.<br />
<p>“We don’t have any for children,” she said gruffly. <br />
<p>“I’m looking for adult-sized ones,” Mister said. The old woman huffed in annoyance and brought out red trunks, tiger-striped trunks, and blue trunks with white hibiscus flowers. <br />
<p>“Which ones would you pick?” Mister asked me, and when I pointed at the blue ones, Mister bought them. Once we left the store, I whispered in his ear.<br />
<p>“That old lady was so rude.”<br />
<p>Mister didn’t seem to mind at all.<br />
<p>“A lot of things become troublesome when you get old,” he said.<br />
<p>We rode along the bumpy sidewalk, which made my butt hurt a little. We passed the police station where I’d asked for directions yesterday, went through the front of the station, and crossed the train tracks. As we went down a gentle slope, I could see the ocean beyond it. It was the ocean I’d seen on my way here. It was just as sparkly as I’d last seen it.<br />
<p>The beach was an endless stretch of sand. There were lots of adults and kids. Mister left the bike at the beach’s bike racks and changed into his swimming trunks in the change room beside a shop. We left our clothes and bags in a locker, freeing our hands. Now that we were fully ready, I couldn’t hold myself in anymore. I went running out into the sand. Mister followed behind.<br />
<p>The sand made soft crunching sounds. The small grains got into my shoes, and my feet felt gritty. It was annoying, so I took off my shoes and went barefoot. The sand felt a little hot.<br />
<p>At primary school we’d learned that before getting into a pool we had to do warm-up exercises, then enter feet-first, then splash water onto our chests to get our body used to the cold water. I remembered everything. But what did that matter now?<br />
<p>I raised a shout as I waded into the ocean. I splashed the water aside, letting the waves hit my body full-force. They receded, then came again. It was different from the waves at the pool. Way different.<br />
<p>It was my first time swimming in the ocean. We’d gone to the ocean on school hikes, but it was still spring and we hadn’t been allowed to swim. We could only play on the sand near the shore.<br />
<p>A massive wave washed over my head.<br />
<p>“It’s salty!” I said as I spat the water out.<br />
<p>“Of course it’s salty. It’s the ocean,” Mister said, laughing. Then he started splashing water into my face like he was teasing me. It made me mad, so I splashed him back. Then, he splashed me so hard that I couldn’t retaliate. I ran away, but Mister chased after me. I wanted to run faster, but the water weighed my legs down and I couldn’t run very well. Soon, I fell forward. My body sank into the water, and I was flailing until I was grabbed by the arm and hoisted up out of the water.<br />
<p>“Mister, stop being mean!” I yelled.<br />
<p>“Sorry,” Mister grinned, not looking sorry at all. Small waves lapped against us.<br />
<p>“Nao, don’t you wanna try going to the deep end?” Mister was looking out into the horizon.<br />
<p>“No way. I’d be scared if I drowned.”<br />
<p>“We won’t go <i>that</i> deep. If you’re scared, you can ride on my shoulders.”<br />
<p>My heart soared.<br />
<p>“C-Can I? Can I really?”<br />
<p>Mister broke into a grin and dove underneath Nao’s crotch, then stood up. The water sloshed as it cascaded off of him, and Nao’s line of sight was suddenly elevated.<br />
<p>“Whoa! Cool! I’m so high up!”<br />
<p>“Hey, don’t kick your feet like that. You’ll fall.”<br />
<p>Mister grabbed my feet, so I settled down. But my feelings weren’t settled down. I was excited. I was really getting a ride on his shoulders. I’d always wanted to do this. I’d always been jealous of kids who got to ride on their dads’ shoulders. I’d always told myself I had to do without because I didn’t have a dad.<br />
<p>Mister walked towards the deep end with me still on his shoulders. Soon, it got so deep the water came up to Mister’s shoulders, even without any waves.<br />
<p>“My feet won’t touch the bottom anymore, would they?”<br />
<p>“Probably not.”<br />
<p>“If I fall off, would I drown?”<br />
<p>The moment I said those words, I was thrown off with a splash. My body sank with a gurgle, and everything looked blue. I could see lots of bubbles rising before my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. I was scared. Once I floated up and got my face out of the water, Mister pulled me by the arms. I threw my arms around his big neck. I’d been scared out of my mind being thrown off, but here I was clinging to the very person who threw me into the water. I was patted on my wet head, and even though I was angry at him, I felt happy. <i>He’s like my dad. My real dad,</i> I thought.<br />
<p>We returned to the shallow end. My feet could touch the bottom now, and I wasn’t scared anymore, but I held on tight to Mister’s hand, which was like a father’s hand. Mister Meany was looking at something. His eyes were glued to the big black inner tube that was bobbing on the water in the distance.<br />
<p>“Nao, what’s that?”<br />
<p>“I think it’s an inner tube.”<br />
<p>“It’s huge.”<br />
<p>The person using the big doughnut-like inner tube was an adult.<br />
<p>“There were lots beside the shop. It said you could rent them.”<br />
<p>The big hand pulled mine.<br />
<p>“We’re gonna borrow one of those.”<br />
<p>“Okay!” I answered loudly.<br />
<p>We rented a big, doughnut-shaped inner tube. Mister settled his bottom in the big hole in the middle, and flung his arms and legs out of the doughnut and bobbed in the water. I sat on top of him, my body overlapping Mister’s. I closed my eyes. When we were rocking gently back and forth like this, it made me feel like I’d become an otter.<br />
<p>Staying still like this was starting to make me hot. The sun’s rays beat down on my whole body, and it hurt.<br />
<p>“Mister, it’s hot.”<br />
<p>Mister splashed sea water on me. Then it felt cool.<br />
<p>“Wonder where we’ll drift off to if we keep sitting here like this,” Mister murmured.<br />
<p>“We’ll probably end up waaaaay out there.”<br />
<p>“You think we’ll get to Spain?”<br />
<p>“Foreign countries are really far away. We’ll probably get eaten by sharks first.”<br />
<p>“Sharks, huh.”<br />
<p>“Oh, but before that, we might go hungry and die.”<br />
<p>“Then we’ll just catch fish to eat.”<br />
<p>I could see Mister’s hands flexing.<br />
<p>“We’ll catch ‘em and swallow ‘em whole. They’ll be hopping when we catch them. They’ll still be hopping in your stomach.”<br />
<p>I imagined swallowing a fish whole. It would be scary to swallow big ones, but I felt like I’d be okay with small fish, like a <i>medaka</i>.<br />
<p>“I’m hungry...” Mister muttered. <br />
<p>“I’m hungry,” I muttered after him.<br />
<p>“Let’s get something to eat.” With that, Mister splish-splashed the water with both hands and paddled the long way back to shore.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-summer-vacation_23.html">PART 2</a>.</center><br />
<br />
<b>Notes</b><br />
<ol><li id="sv1">Blocks of dried/concentrated curry sauce, which can be melted straight into the meat and vegetable broth. See pictures <a href="https://www.google.co.jp/search?site=&tbm=isch&source=hp&biw=1680&bih=931&q=%E3%82%AB%E3%83%AC%E3%83%BC%E3%83%AB%E3%82%A6&oq=%E3%82%AB%E3%83%AC%E3%83%BC%E3%83%AB%E3%82%A6&gs_l=img.3..0j0i24l2j0i10i24j0i24j0i10i24j0i24l2j0i4i10i24j0i24.1646.2322.0.2548.9.7.0.0.0.2.163.876.1j6.7.0....0...1ac..26.img..5.4.450.TsClBcT2pxM">here</a>. <a href="#sv1r">(back)</a></li>
</ol><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-33982693910479096122013-09-08T22:51:00.001-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.412-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box / Field of Silver Grass - Pt. 2This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-field-of-silver.html">PART 1</a>.<br />
<br />
<p>Once the lights were turned out in the room, Douno felt a touch on his cheek. The man always touched him, but Douno felt like his fingers were warmer than usual. <i>What if</i>―he wondered. His suspicions were proven as the hand lifted the hem of the pyjama T-shirt he was wearing.<br />
<p>“Kei.” He restrained the searching hand with his own.<br />
<p>“You don’t want to?” the man whispered in his ear. Douno shivered at his voice, low and breathy. Even at this age, Kitagawa still desired him physically, though naturally less frequently then before.<br />
<p>‘You’re too old for that,’ he knew some people might say, but Douno enjoyed sex with Kitagawa. It was a bumpy ride at first, when they were new to it. But after they had gotten the hang of it, Douno found himself able to honestly enjoy their physical intimacy.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“It’s not that I don’t want to, but...”<br />
<p>It had barely been days since the funeral. Douno felt somewhat guilty having sex in this house, where the presence of his mother still lingered all around them. As if sensing his hesitation, Kitagawa asked him again.<br />
<p>“Should I stop?”<br />
<p>So he was the only one who felt guilty for having sex. Douno had brought Kitagawa over to this house many times while his mother was still alive, figuring it would be harmless if he introduced him as a friend. But this was reality: he felt honestly happy to be sought after like this. <i>I’m sorry. This man is my one and only</i>, he apologized mentally to his mother.<br />
<p>“Keep going,” he murmured.<br />
<p>They took off each other’s clothes. Their intimacy left Douno with no room to think of other things. He became completely absorbed in seeking and being sought. He figured he would be used to it by now, but he tensed every time Kitagawa was about to penetrate him. Kitagawa, apparently aware of it, always took his time leading up to entering. Perhaps it was his way of showing consideration, but when it went too far, it often made Douno lose his patience and grind up against the man himself.<br />
<p>Jostled by the heat that touched him and the heat that bore into him, Douno blacked out for an instant. When he came to again, the man was still inside him, burrowing deep as if to search for something.<br />
<p>Once they had made love to satisfaction, Kitagawa left Douno and went downstairs. The rural house did not have a shower. Perhaps that was why Kitagawa wiped him down thoroughly with a wet towel instead. The cold towel felt nice on his skin, which was still slightly flushed from the heat.<br />
<p>After cleaning up, Douno touched Kitagawa again and was startled to feel icy skin when it had been hot moments before.<br />
<p>“You’re cold.”<br />
<p>“I took a bath in the leftover bathwater,” Kitagawa said, appearing not to mind at all.<br />
<p>“It probably wasn’t even bathing temperature anymore, was it?”<br />
<p>“It felt cool and nice.”<br />
<p>“You’ll catch a cold like that.”<br />
<p>“I’ll be fine. It’s all good.”<br />
<p>Douno was gently enveloped by cold flesh.<br />
<p>“You’re warm, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>“Admit it, you were feeling cold after all.”<br />
<p>They teased each other as they wriggled back under the covers. Kitagawa’s cold skin soon warmed to Douno’s own temperature, to his relief.<br />
<p>Kitagawa buried his face into Douno’s chest affectionately, and Douno closed his eyes as he stroked the man’s head. He remembered the night of his mother’s death, the man standing in the doorway, holding the dry cleaner’s bag with the mourning clothes; Kitagawa’s profile as he said he had come because he thought it would be better if he was here by Douno’s side; his shoulders as he stood in the field of silver grass―the images flashed one by one in the back of Douno’s mind.<br />
<p>He remembered what Kitagawa had said to him once, a very long time ago. <i>Stay with me until I die.</i><br />
<p>Now, he wanted to say the same to Kitagawa. <i>Please be with me until I die. Even in my last moments, you’re the one gentle person I want by my side.</i><br />
<p><i>Last moments</i>, Douno thought, and he suddenly realized something. If he died before Kitagawa did, what would happen? His sister would become the chief mourner, and his ashes would be buried in the Douno family grave. Then, who would take care of Kitagawa when he was left behind? If he fell ill, if he died... who would be there to care for him in his last moments?<br />
<p>His mother was missing, and it was unknown whether she was even alive or dead. His relatives were the kind of people to abandon him when life got hard. Nothing could be expected from them. Even if by some chance a relative was found, just imagining Kitagawa being treated like a burden was enough to make Douno’s heart ache.<br />
<p>He had always felt those things―tangible things―were unnecessary. But they had been young back then. Now that they were old enough to see the end of the road, Douno could not help but think.<br />
<p>If he was the one to go first, he did not want to leave this man behind alone. The last thing he wanted to see was his cherished person being neglected. Douno wished he would be able to die after this man, but he had already learned the hard way that fate was not so kind.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>They ended up sleeping in, and when Douno woke, it was close to ten in the morning. Kitagawa was lying on his stomach, still sleeping. Douno reached out and stroked the man’s short, greying whiskers, for no reason in particular. The man woke up. His eyes were still filled with sleep as he grinned boyishly at Douno. It was overwhelmingly endearing.<br />
<p>Kitagawa slowly sat up and kissed Douno on the lips as if to say good morning. After rubbing his prickly cheek like a cat’s tongue against Douno’s cheek, he stretched his arms out and arched his back. The light streaming in through the faded curtains was frighteningly bright.<br />
<p>“Looks like it’ll be sunny today, too,” Kitagawa murmured. By the time they finished a meal that fell somewhere between breakfast and lunch, the clock was ticking past eleven thirty.<br />
<p>“So what did you want to talk about?” Kitagawa said.<br />
<p>Douno had told Kitagawa beforehand while he did the dishes to come to the living room after he was done. <br />
<p>“Right. Have a seat here.” Douno made him sit across the table. He took a deep breath.<br />
<p>“Kei, I’m wondering if you’ll enter my register.” <a href="#sg1" name="sg1r"><sup>[1]</sup></a><br />
<p>Kitagawa tilted his head. <i>I don’t understand what you’re talking about</i>, his face seemed to say. <br />
<p>“By entering my register, I mean becoming my adopted son.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa appeared to ponder a little before replying with a grave face.<br />
<p>“I’d prefer to be your lover than your kid.”<br />
<p>“You’d only become my ‘son’ for the sake of convenience. I’m not telling you to actually become my child. We’ll stay the same as we are now, except you’ll be in my register.”<br />
<p>“If things are going to stay the same, I wouldn’t need to enter your register, would I?”<br />
<p>“I see what you mean, but... thinking ahead, I feel like it would be best to. If I happen to―and I’m just talking about possibilities―if I happen to die first, though I won’t have much, I want to leave you everything I have. This would be hard to do if we’re complete strangers. That’s why―”<br />
<p>Suddenly Kitagawa’s expression hardened.<br />
<p>“I don’t want money, and I don’t even want to talk about when you die, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>He stood up and made to leave the living room, and Douno hastily stopped him.<br />
<p>“Kei, we’re not young anymore,” he said steadily. “Some day, one of us is going to die first. I don’t know if it’ll be you or me, but... if we go by age, I’ll be first.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa closed his mouth tightly and clenched his jaw. He looked like he was on the verge of tears, and just the sight of him filled Douno with pity.<br />
<p>“And that’s all the more reason why I want to set things in order. Let’s do this together.”<br />
<p>“...My heart hurts.” Kitagawa’s voice sounded like it was being squeezed out from the back of his throat. “My heart hurts, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>“It’s because you’re thinking about what’ll happen if I die. Entering my register is not going to change anything. And if you don’t want to change your last name, Kei, you can keep it. It might be selfish, but I want you to agree to this.”<br />
<p>“I <i>told</i> you I don’t want any money!”<br />
<p>“It’s not just about money. If we’re not in the same register, we might not be able to share the same grave.”<br />
<p>“Grave...?” Kitagawa echoed.<br />
<p>“You and I are complete strangers. It might be fine while we’re still healthy, but who’s going to take care of you when you grow weak? You have no family or relatives. What’s going to happen when you die and there’s no one to arrange your funeral, no one to claim your ashes?”<br />
<p>“I don’t matter. I don’t care about after I die―”<br />
<p>“But I do. I don’t want to see you mistreated. That’s why―let’s become family in the real sense. Enter my register, and even after you die, come to stay with the Douno family... come back to stay with me.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s face was vague, a mixture of surprise and hurt. Then, he lowered his eyes like a scolded child and mumbled.<br />
<p>“If I die, Takafumi, you don’t have to stay with me. You should do whatever you want.”<br />
<p>Heat rose to Douno’s head in anger, and his hand moved before words could escape his mouth. Kitagawa raised his face as if surprised, and Douno also panicked at himself for slapping him.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry. That must’ve hurt,” Douno apologized.<br />
<p>“...Why’re you mad?” <br />
<p>Instead of addressing the pain, Kitagawa’s answer was one that furtively gauged Douno’s mood. The fact pained him.<br />
<p>“Fine,” Douno said shortly. “If you say so, I’ll do what I want. I’ll put you in my register. And... after you die, I’ll put you in the Douno family grave. Enjoy feeling awkward right beside my parents.”<br />
<p>“Takafumi...”<br />
<p>“I think money is important, but what I want to say is... I want someone to be with you right up until your last moments.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa threw his arms around Douno, pressing his body right up to the other man’s, and Douno nearly tumbled over backwards from the momentum. He dug his heels in, but unable to support the man, he half-slid, half-crumpled to a sitting position on the floor.<br />
<p>The arms across Douno’s back held him with such strength that his fingers dug into his skin. But Douno could not bring himself to say it hurt.<br />
<p>“If I become your kid, Takafumi...” Douno could hear the man murmur at his ear, “would I stop being afraid of dying?”<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>On Saturday, Tomoko came out again to help clean up. By then, Douno and Kitagawa had already tidied up most of the contents of the house, but they had left the clothes that Douno’s mother used to wear, unable to bring themselves to discard them. Tomoko briskly began to sort them out. She was more decisive than Douno as she divided the clothes into a pile to keep and a pile to discard.<br />
<p>In the de-cluttered house, Douno and Tomoko discussed the savings their mother had left, as well as taxes. Once they paid for the funeral costs, the amount left in their mother’s bank account was but a small portion. It was definitely no amount which would spark a fight over inheritance. <br />
<p>When Douno asked if he could have the house, Tomoko told him she had planned it to be that way from the start.<br />
<p>“I’ve left the Douno household, and I have my own home now, anyway. You should move here after you retire. It’s old, but I think you’ll be able to live in it for a good while longer.”<br />
<p>Douno looked at his surroundings as he listened to his sister speak. Kitagawa was not here. Thirty minutes ago, Douno had sent him to the supermarket to run an errand. If things went as planned, the man would not be back for another hour.<br />
<p>Now would probably be the time to bring this topic up, but he still hesitated. He would probably be questioned as to why, and he was afraid of his sister’s reaction to his answer. But he felt like if he missed this opportunity, he would never be able to bring it up to her again.<br />
<p>“I actually have something important to talk to you about, besides inheritance and property.”<br />
<p>Tomoko turned around while she folded their mother’s clothes, ones she had kept as mementos.<br />
<p>“It’s about Kitagawa, the guy I live with.”<br />
<p>“Uh-huh,” his sister replied. “He’s a little different, isn’t he?”<br />
<p>“You think so?”<br />
<p>“The things he says just come out of the blue, but he doesn’t seem to mean any ill by it. I could see why you two would get along.”<br />
<p>If he remembered correctly, Tomoko had barely spoken to Kitagawa. Douno was surprised to hear her say she thought they got along well.<br />
<p>“Why do you think so?”<br />
<p>“Why? Well, let’s see... he’s gruff, but he seems nice. He doesn’t talk much, but you never liked talkative people anyway.”<br />
<p>It was a saving grace, if it could be called that, that Tomoko did not have a bad impression of Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“Yeah, so about him―I’m thinking of entering him into my register.”<br />
<p>“What?” Tomoko spun around. “Register? What do you mean?”<br />
<p>Tomoko’s voice was clearly distraught as she questioned him.<br />
<p>“That’s just what I mean. I want to put Kitagawa in my register. More accurately, that would mean Kitagawa would become my adopted child.”<br />
<p>Tomoko hung her head and pressed a hand to her forehead. <br />
<p>“Adopted child? But you and him aren’t even that far apart in age.”<br />
<p>“I’m not actually planning to make him my child. I just want him to be under the same register as me. Kitagawa has no siblings, his parents are missing, and he’s not close with his relatives. I’m worried what’ll happen to him after I’m gone.”<br />
<p>Tomoko let out a huff with her brow contracted.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa is single, isn’t he? Hasn’t he married even once?”<br />
<p>“No.”<br />
<p>Tomoko looked straight at Douno.<br />
<p>“You say you’re worried about him after you’re gone, but I don’t think you need to go so far as to do that for him. Isn’t Mr. Kitagawa the one who chose not to make his own family even though he fully knows he has no family ties of his own? Anyone would know with a little thinking that we’ll all eventually be left alone as we grow old. It’s Mr. Kitagawa’s responsibility to decide what he’s going to do after you’re gone.”<br />
<p>What she was saying made perfect sense. But there was no way Douno was backing down.<br />
<p>“But he really has no ties to his blood relatives. And if you’ve never had family close to you, how would you know what kind of things they’re supposed to do for you, what they’re supposed to provide you with? It would be hard for a person like him to imagine the future, wouldn’t it? Both you and I had nice parents, and we were raised with a lot of care. But Kitagawa isn’t like us.”<br />
<p>“Maybe you want to give something back to Mr. Kitagawa because of all he’s done for you so far, but I don’t think that means you should put him in the Douno register. Entering the register means becoming family. It’s not such an easy thing as bringing home a stray dog or cat.”<br />
<p>“He’s completely alone. I feel sorry for him that he won’t have a grave to be put into when he dies. Don’t you?”<br />
<p>Tomoko pursed her lips furiously.<br />
<p>“Then he should just arrange for one while he’s alive! There are a lot of people out there who do that. Takafumi, think about it. No matter how close you are or how much he did for you, it’s not normal to put your friend in your register.”<br />
<p>“Kitagawa’s been abandoned by his own mother and relatives,” Douno argued. “He has no family. That’s why he doesn’t know what a family is like. That’s why he can’t imagine what the distant future would be like. He’s never been very perceptive to human kindness, but he says he likes me. That’s why I want to be Kitagawa’s family, in the real sense.”<br />
<p>“You keep saying he can’t imagine the future, but isn’t everyone aware of the fact that they age? It shows in your appearance, after all.”<br />
<p>Tomoko lapsed into sullen silence, her brow still wrinkled. Silence wore on as they sat across from each other.<br />
<p>“Where’s Mr. Kitagawa now?”<br />
<p>She appeared to have finally realized that he was not around.<br />
<p>“I sent him to do some shopping.”<br />
<p>Perhaps she had caught on that he had distanced the man from their discussion on purpose. But even if she did, Tomoko made no mention of it.<br />
<p>“What does Mr. Kitagawa himself say about the adoption?”<br />
<p>“At first he didn’t know what it meant, and he said I didn’t have to, but when I told him I wanted to, he agreed.”<br />
<p><i>Bam!</i> There was a loud noise. Tomoko had slammed the table.<br />
<p>“Agreed?” she said incredulously. “So Mr. Kitagawa <i>did</i> find it strange! You’re the one making assumptions that he’s pitiful, or that he’s unhappy!”<br />
<p>After her outburst, Tomoko caught herself, swallowed, and looked down. <br />
<p>“I’m sorry,” she murmured in a small voice. “I know you’re a kind person. But I think you’re going too far by adopting him just because you pity his circumstances. I feel sorry for Mr. Kitagawa and his misfortunes, but he’s not the only person who goes through those kinds of things.”<br />
<p>Douno clenched his hands on his lap.<br />
<p>“If I put Kitagawa in the register, I won’t cause you any trouble at all. I’m not telling you to send us financial support, or socialize as relatives.”<br />
<p>Tomoko sighed for another countless time. “I don’t understand what’s going on inside your head.”<br />
<p>Douno could clearly perceive Tomoko’s confusion and anger. As she had said, Kitagawa was a grown adult. He ought to think of the future and other things on his own without being told. But Douno could not imagine that Kitagawa would be able to arrange things smartly and efficiently for his own benefit.<br />
<p>Their conversation was running along parallel lines. <i>Should I bring it up?</i> Douno agonized over whether he should say it or not. Words like “contempt” and “shame” floated up in the back of his mind and disappeared. He did not want to cause ripples of disturbance in his relationship with his sister. If he could, he had wanted to take his feelings to the grave. It was hard for him to put up with demands to do this and that at his age. But “pity” was probably not enough to convince Tomoko now. <br />
<p>“Kitagawa is... well...” The words stuck. His sister looked at him. “Kitagawa is my lover.”<br />
<p>He could see Tomoko’s face grow pale in an instant.<br />
<p>“...You must be joking.”<br />
<p>“We can’t marry, since we’re both men, but I want to leave him as much as I can, and I want to do as much as I can for him.”<br />
<p>Tomoko’s colourless lips were trembling.<br />
<p>“H... Have you thought about your age? How old do you think you are? Aren’t you ashamed of yourself at all?”<br />
<p>Her words stabbed him in the chest. But he could not let himself back down now.<br />
<p>“Our relationship isn’t something that just started today or yesterday. We’ve been like this since we started living together.”<br />
<p>Tomoko clapped both hands over her ears and shook her head violently.<br />
<p>“You must be out of your mind! Two men―how could you? I’ve had enough of this! At a time like this, so soon after mom’s death...”<br />
<p>“This is the only kind of time I get to really sit down and talk to you. He might enter the register, but I won’t cause you trouble. If Kitagawa dies before me, I’ll take care of everything. But if I end up going first... I just wondered if I could have a little bit of your help.”<br />
<br />
<p>Tomoko threw herself face-down on the <i>tatami</i> floor and wept. Douno could only silently watch his crying sister.<br />
<br />
<p>When the sun had dipped considerably westward, Douno sensed a presence opening the sliding door with a rattle. He knew who it was from the loud, thunderous footsteps. Kitagawa poked his face into the living room and took a sweeping glance of the room.<br />
<p>“What happened to your sister, Takafumi?”<br />
<p>Douno smiled. “She remembered an errand she had to run. She went home.”<br />
<p>“Wasn’t she going to stay the night?” Kitagawa cocked his head.<br />
<p>“...She seemed to be in a rush.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa did not question further. Douno looked at his feet and laced his hands together tightly. Whatever that happened between him and his sister... Kitagawa would never know, and would never need to know. <br />
<p>He felt something on his cheek. It was soft, damp, and light brown like dog’s fur―Douno raised his face slowly to see Kitagawa stroking his cheek with the tips of silver grass.<br />
<p>“It tickles,” Douno said.<br />
<p>Kitagawa broke into a smile and thrust the bunch of silver grass into Douno’s face. He had probably picked some again on the way back from shopping.<br />
<p>Douno gathered the bunch from him. It smelled like green grass. Kitagawa sat down beside him, and stuck his own face into the bunch of furry-eared grass. It was such an amusing sight that Douno could not help but laugh a little.<br />
<p>“Should we plant those in the garden sometime?” Kitagawa asked.<br />
<p>“It’s not worth planting. You can find it everywhere.”<br />
<p>Silver grasses were weeds; they sprouted and grew on their own wherever you left them. Douno wondered why Kitagawa would ask if he wanted to plant them, and realization finally dawned on him.<br />
<p>It was because he had said two days ago that they were beautiful. That was why Kitagawa had picked so many on the way back from shopping, and suggested they plant them in the garden.<br />
<p>There was no way he could stem the flow of tears now. Douno could sense Kitagawa’s surprise at seeing him burst into tears.<br />
<p>“What’s wrong?”<br />
<p>Warm fingertips touched his cheek.<br />
<p>“Oh, it’s just... I remembered something sad.”<br />
<p>He was held close, which made it even harder to stop the tears. Kitagawa enveloped Douno in an embrace. He said nothing, and simply sat still until Douno’s tears stopped.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>-- END OF STORY --</center><br />
Read the short story <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-summer-vacation.html">Summer Vacation</a>.<br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.<br />
<br />
<b>Notes</b><br />
<ol><li id="sg1">A “koseki” or “family register” lists all the members of a household and any additions or subtractions via marriage, birth, or adoption (as well as disowning and death). An adoptee is entered into the adopter’s register. “Enter the register” is also another way to say “get married.” As same-sex marriage is not legally recognized in Japan, same-sex couples often “enter the register” and become family by adoption instead of marriage. <a href="#sg1r">(back)</a></li>
</ol>9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-60367841356430595232013-09-08T21:47:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.424-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box / Field of Silver Grass - Pt. 1This is a sidestory originally published as a special mail-order booklet for buyers of <i>Out of the Cage</i> (Holly Novels edition).<br />
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<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>FIELD OF SILVER GRASS</center><br />
<br />
He was dazzled for a moment as he stepped out of the hospital. Perhaps it was because he had gone from being inside all day to being suddenly in the sun, which was bright for October. Takafumi Douno darted immediately into the shadows of the building and sighed. He fished his cell phone out of his jacket pocket.<br />
<p>“Kei, it’s me.”<br />
<p>The reception was not very good, and the voice on the other end was choppy. He managed to make out one phrase.<br />
<p>“How’s your mom?”<br />
<p>Douno took a step back out into the sun, still looking at his feet.<br />
<p>“They couldn’t do anything. We lost her―just now.”<br />
<p>A short silence on the other end. An ambulance blared its sirens as it passed in front of him.<br />
<p>“I see. I’m sorry.” This time, he could hear the words clearly.<br />
<p>“The wake is tomorrow, and I think the funeral will be on the next day. I don’t know who my mother was close with over here, so I have no idea who to contact.”<br />
<p>That was not all. Once his mother’s death had been confirmed, Douno had barely any time to cope with his feelings before he was bombarded with a stream of questions on which company to call for funeral services, which temple the service would be held at, and which immediate family he had already contacted. His mind was a mass of confusion. <a name='more'></a><br />
<p>His sister had been the one to let him know that their mother was in critical condition from a subarachnoid hemorrhage. As he boarded the bullet train to his parents’ home, the worst-case scenario was already a possibility in Douno’s mind. Perhaps it was crude to think this way, but his mother was eighty-four and a ripe old age. Although she had lived an energetic life with very few illnesses for a woman of her years, Douno told himself if the worst happened, it simply meant she had reached the end of her life.<br />
<p>But Douno’s preparedness vanished the moment he got to the hospital and saw his mother’s face as she lay limp in bed. He could no longer think. His heart seized up at the sight of his own mother up close in such a weakened state, especially because she had always been so healthy.<br />
<p>His mother now fought to keep a pulse, and as Douno sat beside her, he was flooded with memories of his childhood. It was troublesome because they all spilled out of him as tears.<br />
<p>“You alright?”<br />
<p>Douno was pulled back to reality. His head had half-sunken into memories of his mother. He pressed his forehead with his hand. It was hot.<br />
<p>“I’m fine. It was just so sudden, I’m just kind of flustered...”<br />
<p>“Am I allowed to go to the funeral?”<br />
<p>“Of course. I’d like you to come. Oh, but Kei, what about your work?”<br />
<p>“I’ll finish it up today.”<br />
<p>“You don’t have to push yourself.”<br />
<p>He thought he heard someone call his name. Douno turned around to see his younger sister Tomoko running this way from the entrance.<br />
<p>“Takafumi, the funeral home’s car is coming in thirty minutes,” she said.<br />
<p>“Alright. I’m actually on the phone right n―”<br />
<p>“Hiroaki is coming in the evening. You didn’t bring any mourning clothes, did you? Since you two have similar figures, should I ask him to bring an extra set? Or are you going to go out to buy new ones?”<br />
<p>Tomoko apparently did not see the cell phone in his right hand. She pelted him with machine-gun talk.<br />
<p>“Hold on a minute,” Douno said to Tomoko before pressing his cell phone to his ear.<br />
<p>“Kei, I’ll call you again later.”<br />
<p>“You need mourning clothes?” Kitagawa said.<br />
<p>“Ah, yeah. But I’ll get a set over here.”<br />
<p>“If you’re okay with getting them at night, I can bring them. But I’ll be taking the last train, so I’ll be pretty late.”<br />
<p>“You have work, don’t you?”<br />
<p>“I’ll get it done. Are they the ones you wore for Shiba’s?”<br />
<p>“Yeah. ―It would be a huge help, but are you really sure?”<br />
<p>“Don’t worry about me.”<br />
<p>“Sorry about that. It’d be great if you could bring them.”<br />
<p>When Douno hung up, Tomoko apologized.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were on the phone. Who were you talking to?”<br />
<p>“Kei.”<br />
<p>“Kei?”<br />
<p>“Kei Kitagawa. The guy I live with.” <br />
<p>“Oh, him.”<br />
<p>Tomoko knew that Douno and Kitagawa had been living together for close to twenty years. Back in his late thirties when Douno had gotten divorced, Tomoko had gotten wind of the news and given him a worried phone call. When she had asked where he had moved to, he had told her a friend was letting him stay at his house.<br />
<p>“Are you really that tight on money?” she had asked with concern. Unable to tell her that the man was actually his lover, Douno made the excuse that he was not having problems getting by financially; he simply felt at ease to have someone around.<br />
<p>“Make sure you don’t impose on him,” Tomoko had said sternly, asking for no further elaboration.<br />
<p>Two or three years later, she began to ask him if he planned to remarry, and how long he planned to bum around at his friend’s house. However, since Douno only saw his sister during the Obon holidays in the summer, he scraped through each time by laughing it off vaguely. Once he passed his mid-forties, everyone stopped mentioning remarriage.<br />
<p>Tomoko seemed to see Kitagawa as a kind but odd man who lived with his divorced friend. Once, she had asked Douno what Kitagawa did for a living. He had told her Kitagawa was an illustrator.<br />
<p>“Well, they do say people in those types of jobs are unique,” she had said, convinced.<br />
<p>When their father passed away from cancer about five years ago, Kitagawa attended the funeral. That was when Tomoko met him for the first time. They only exchanged a few words.<br />
<p>“He’s quite tall,” she had commented afterwards.<br />
<p>“Kei says he’s going to bring my mourning clothes since he’s coming to the funeral, anyway. What a lifesaver. It looks like I won’t have to borrow your husband’s clothes after all.”<br />
<p>“What?” Tomoko said, furrowing her brow. “Takafumi, you need mourning clothes for the wake. He won’t be on time.”<br />
<p>“He says he’ll get here tonight. It’ll be fine.”<br />
<p>“But the wake is tomorrow. He’s coming all the way here today just to bring your clothes?”<br />
<p>“Oh, er, yeah. He said he’s got free time from finishing up some work, anyway.”<br />
<p>“That’s kind of him.”<br />
<p>Guilt clouded his heart. Douno’s sister did not know what kind of relationship they were in. He felt no need to tell her, and had no plans to do so in the future.<br />
<p>He did not expect his sister to understand the life he had lived for close to twenty years with his male lover. But it was no longer a question of gaining someone’s understanding. Now that he was in his mid-fifties and long past the halfway point in his life, Douno simply wanted to do his best to avoid awkwardness and criticism from the few immediate family he had left.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>At around eleven at night, they heard a knocking at the door. Douno stood up, stopping his sister who was about to get it. He made his way down the hallway, and before he could even call out, the front door slid open to admit a looming man.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was wearing a black suit. When their eyes met, the first thing he said was, “Are you alright?”<br />
<p>“Uh―oh, yeah. I’m fine. Thank you.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa thrust Douno’s suit out, which was still inside the plastic dry cleaner’s bag. <br />
<p>“Is this the right one?” he asked.<br />
<p>It was the suit Douno wore for every formal occasion. That was fine, but―<br />
<p>“Did you bring it like this?”<br />
<p>“I thought about putting it into something, but it’s not good to wrinkle these kinds of clothes, right? I just brought it as is because it was too much hassle.”<br />
<p>When Douno imagined the man carrying the dry cleaner’s bag as he transferred between trains and a bullet train on the three-hour journey here, he was simultaneously exasperated and a little overwhelmed with emotion.<br />
<p>“I was careful not to get it wrinkled.”<br />
<p>“Thanks for taking the trouble. You’re really a huge help. ―Come on in.”<br />
<p>Douno heard hurried footsteps, and turned around to see Tomoko approaching.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry you had to come out so far.” Tomoko bowed her head to Kitagawa. She seemed to remember his face, despite having only met him once.<br />
<p>“My sympathies.” Kitagawa also bowed his head.<br />
<p>“Tomoko, I’m going to have Kitagawa stay over tonight.”<br />
<p>A hesitant look crossed Tomoko’s face. “I’d love to have him over, but I don’t think we have enough futons. Our uncle and other relatives are also staying over, aren’t they? I’ll reserve a room in the hotel near the station right now, so why don’t you have him stay there?”<br />
<p>Douno had completely forgotten that a group of relatives along with their uncle and aunt were supposed to be staying the night. He had assumed it would be fine since they had enough rooms.<br />
<p>“Right, okay. Kei, we’re going to get a hotel room for you, so would you like to come in and wait? It’ll only be a while.”<br />
<p>“I can sleep anywhere,” Kitagawa said. “It’s not that cold at night, anyway. I could even sleep in a corner of the hallway, wherever...”<br />
<p>Douno knew Kitagawa was serious, but Tomoko did not. She wore a strange expression. <i>Is he kidding? But why would he make a joke at a time like this?</i> she seemed to be thinking.<br />
<p>“L―Let’s have him stay here after all,” Douno stammered. “We wouldn’t want to make him go all the way to the hotel again when he’s just arrived. In this weather, he’d probably he fine just having something to lie on.”<br />
<p>“But he’s a guest.”<br />
<p>Tomoko seemed to have more objections, but Douno managed to convince her, and Kitagawa was brought into the house. In the living room, Douno introduced Kitagawa as a friend to the gathering of relatives there. Douno’s mother was laid out in a futon, and Kitagawa knelt before her with his palms together for a long time.<br />
<p>After he had left Kitagawa to rest in the room upstairs and their relatives had gone to sleep, Douno and Tomoko sat and talked in the living room where their mother was laid. They planned to keep a vigil over their mother for the night, but once they had run out of memories to reminisce about together, his sister began to rub her red eyes. She looked like she could barely keep herself awake. Douno suggested that she take a rest first, and afterwards, they would take turns sleeping.<br />
<p>It was around three in the morning, perhaps, when Douno heard creaking in the hallway. He wondered if his sister had come to switch places with him, but it was Kitagawa who appeared.<br />
<p>“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?”<br />
<p>“You weren’t coming up, so I came to see how you were doing.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa was wearing his usual T-shirt and shorts as he sat down beside Douno.<br />
<p>“Oh, right, I didn’t tell you,” Douno said. “We were talking about keeping vigil tonight with close family. My sister and I are taking turns, since an all-nighter would be hard on both of us.”<br />
<p>“I see,” Kitagawa answered. This house had formerly belonged to Douno’s grandmother. It had two storeys and many rooms, but it was very old. From the looks of it, his mother had only been using the first floor, and when Tomoko found out that relatives would be staying tonight, she was seen vacuuming the second floor in a hurry.<br />
<p>It was cool out, and the window in the living room, where Douno’s mother lay, had been kept open. It had turned a little chilly after midnight, but Douno had left the window open, figuring the cold air from the open window would help keep him awake. In the countryside, there were barely any cars on the roads at night. The chirping of the insects rang out clearly.<br />
<p>“She was a kind soul,” Kitagawa murmured as he gazed at Douno’s mother, whose face was covered with a white cloth.<br />
<p>“Yeah.”<br />
<p>In the New Year after Douno’s father passed away, Douno brought Kitagawa home during the holidays to his mother, who was now left alone in the house. Since Douno’s sister and her husband always returned to visit right at New Years, Douno always shifted his visit so that he would arrive after they left, from the third day of January.<br />
<p>Why had he thought of bringing Kitagawa with him? That day, he had told Kitagawa, as he usually did, that he would be returning to his hometown on the third.<br />
<p>“Okay,” Kitagawa had replied as usual. Perhaps it was the forlorn look on his face that made Douno decide to take him along.<br />
<p>Douno’s mother appeared not to mind her son’s younger friend, and the three spent a relaxed time together. Douno and his mother did not talk much even if they were sitting right across from each other. His mother was not the talkative type to begin with, and they spent most of the time in silence. Yet, his mother was chatty around Kitagawa. When Douno asked her later what they were talking about, she had said they only talked about little things. Nothing special.<br />
<p>“He’s such a good listener to a rambling senior like me,” she had said quietly. After that, come every winter, Douno began to bring Kitagawa to his mother’s home.<br />
<p>It was a quiet night. Although it was false charge, Douno had nevertheless been arrested, making his mother worry. He had gotten married, but had later divorced. And as for the granddaughter his mother had adored.... <i>I caused you a lot of heartache, didn’t I?</i> Douno spoke mentally to the shrunken figure in the futon.<br />
<p>He spotted Kitagawa stifling a yawn. Kitagawa worked at night when he was busy, but he was generally not very good at staying up the whole night through. He worked on the same schedule as a company worker like Douno, beginning his work at nine in the morning and putting away his work materials at five.<br />
<p>“You don’t have to stay up with me. Go to sleep,” Douno said to him. Kitagawa shook his head.<br />
<p>“Can I stay here?”<br />
<p>“I don’t mind, but... you were working nonstop, weren’t you? And then you spent all that time on the train... aren’t you exhausted?”<br />
<p>“I want to be close to you, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>Douno laughed softly. “Do you feel lonely sleeping by yourself?”<br />
<p>At home, they always slept in the same futon. At first, they had done so out of necessity because Kitagawa had no extra futon when Douno moved in with him. But even after they had sorted out their living arrangements, an additional futon was never bought. Douno had suggested buying one a few times, but each time, Kitagawa had said there was no need. So things stayed that way.<br />
<p>Despite what one might expect from his large stature, Kitagawa was prone to feeling lonely, and sought affection like a child. Once, when they had gone on a trip overseas, their hotel room had come with two twin beds. Although they had gone to sleep in separate beds, Douno woke up later to find that Kitagawa had wriggled into bed beside him. When he asked why, Kitagawa said it was because “I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t touch you.”<br />
<p>“You’re the lonely one, aren’t you, Takafumi?”<br />
<p>“Huh?”<br />
<p>“It’s sad when your parents die, isn’t it? When your dad died, you looked like you’d collapse. That’s why I came. It’s better if I’m around, right?”<br />
<p>Douno finally understood the meaning behind why this man had hurried through his work and boarded multiple trains knowing he would arrive late at night, just to be by his side. Douno felt too choked up to say anything. Kitagawa’s fingers touched his.<br />
<p>“You can cry. I prepared myself for it.”<br />
<p><i>Prepared yourself to see me break down and cling to you, bawling my eyes out?</i> Douno thought wryly. He found himself laughing a little in amusement. Kitagawa cocked his head in perplexity.<br />
<p>“Yes, I’m sad, but I think I can hold off crying for a bit. I cried a lot at the hospital already.”<br />
<p>Their conversation lapsed. They sat in absent silence beside each other, only their fingertips interlinked with each other. <i>He’s right,</i> Douno thought. <i>It’s different. Even if there are no words between us, it feels different from being alone.</i><br />
<p>For an instant, Douno wondered what he was doing here. He turned around to see the darkness gradually lightening, and remembered. <i>I’m waiting for dawn to break.</i><br />
<p>He heard hurried footsteps, and the sliding door opened.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry! I completely fell asleep...”<br />
<p>Tomoko apparently had not expected to see anyone else. “Oh!” she murmured in surprise when she saw Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“You must have been tired,” Douno said to her. “I’m still alright, so you can go back to sleep for a bit longer. Kei is keeping me company.”<br />
<p>“It’s fine, I’m awake already, anyway. Besides, I need to have a girl-to-girl talk with Mom. You can take a rest, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>Douno was shooed out of the room and to the second floor, into the west room which was about nine square metres in area. Tomoko had mentioned not having enough futons, but she had apparently managed to secure one set, which was laid out on the floor.<br />
<p>There was no hesitation in sharing the same futon. Most people would think nothing of them sleeping together. They had no choice, after all, with only one futon available. And they were both men.<br />
<p>Douno felt comfort in smelling Kitagawa’s scent close to him. He was gathered in a tight embrace, and a fleeting uncertainty crossed his mind―what if his sister came in? What if one of his relatives got the wrong room? But before long, he stopped caring. If they were seen, he would just use the excuse that they were cold. And besides―he was overcome with sleepiness.<br />
<p>As Kitagawa gently ran his hand down his back, Douno suddenly remembered a long-forgotten memory. His mother used to rub his back like this when they used to sleep together. <i>Go to sleep, go to sleep,</i> her soft voice would repeat. It was such an old memory that a haze had fallen over it. He was choked up by something hot, and tears spilled over. When he let out a trembling sob, a large palm touched his eyes and gently brushed away the tears brimming over.<br />
<p>He was sad―sad, but strangely enough, not lonely.<br />
<br />
<p>Douno’s company gave him a week off for his mother’s funeral. The ceremony took place three days after her passing. Douno decided to use the rest of the four days to clean up the house. Thankfully, since it was not a rental property, they did not need to make arrangements to vacate the house, but nevertheless there were many things that needed to be put in order.<br />
<p>They looked for her bank balance book and her stamp, and got her pension book and health insurance card in order. They also had to go through inheritance procedures. It was a three-hour trip by train and bullet train to get here from Douno’s house; Douno preferred to get everything done during this time off rather than making multiple trips.<br />
<p>Kitagawa did not go back after the funeral. Since he had reached a lull in his work, he remained behind to help clean up. Tomoko was only able to take four days off. She left, saying she would come back to help on Saturday and Sunday.<br />
<p>“Kei... Keeei...”<br />
<p>Douno called Kitagawa’s name to let him know lunch was ready, but there was no answer. He went through all the rooms on the first floor with no luck. Kitagawa was not in the garden, either. <i>I told him lunch would almost be ready, so he couldn’t have gone out for a walk.</i> Douno went up to the second floor, and found Kitagawa there sitting with his legs crossed in the nine-square-metre room, engrossed in something in his lap.<br />
<p>Douno peered in from behind. Kitagawa was looking at Douno’s childhood photo album.<br />
<p>“Kei.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa turned around in a startled manner, apparently unaware that Douno had come up behind him.<br />
<p>“Where did you find such an old album?”<br />
<p>“There’re lots in the closet. And not just yours.”<br />
<p>“I see...”<br />
<p>“It’s fun to see so many little Takafumis.”<br />
<p>Douno sat down beside Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“That was during our spring hike. I must have been in first grade or so.”<br />
<p>A younger version of himself was standing with a younger version of his mother. Douno’s nostalgia kept him glued to each page that Kitagawa turned.<br />
<p>“You must’ve been cute when you were a kid,” Kitagawa murmured.<br />
<p>“Too bad you see nothing of that now. In fact, I’m old enough to have grandchildren this age,” Takafumi said wryly.<br />
<p>“I think you’re still cute, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>Douno was in his mid-fifties, yet Kitagawa’s face was all seriousness as he called him “cute”.<br />
<p>“Time to eat,” Douno said, feeling sheepish as he gave the man a light slap on the shoulder and went ahead downstairs. Kitagawa showed up in the kitchen some moments later. They sat across from each other and ate.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s habit of eating quickly still persisted, though it had improved compared to before. His plate was polished off before Douno had even finished half. Kitagawa remained in his seat even after his meal and waited patiently for Douno to finish.<br />
<p>Once they were done, Kitagawa began to clean up. Neither had suggested it; it had become an unspoken rule between them that whoever didn’t do the cooking would do the cleaning up.<br />
<p>Douno left the kitchen and entered the living room. The sun was still glaring outside, but there was a breeze blowing. It was cool as long as they kept the window open. This house was spacious, like many others on the countryside. The yard in their current rented house was larger than average, but this yard was almost twice as large.<br />
<p>In a few years, Douno would reach retirement age. He still planned to do some sort of work after retirement, but he was beginning to think it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to move into this house, as long as Kitagawa was alright with it. For one, his income would dwindle, even if he continued to work after retirement. And although their current rent was not expensive, it was still a significant amount.<br />
<p>If they were going to continue this life for ten or twenty more years after retirement, they would have to think about things further in the future. A long, long life with just the two of them. Douno would be lying if he said he wouldn’t find it lonely. Sometimes he envied his classmates and friends who had stories about their children and grandchildren. He had had those himself once, but they had all been washed cleanly away like a sand castle in a big wave.<br />
<p>But if Douno were offered his sand castle again in exchange for what he had now, he knew he would not say yes. What he had built up was irreplaceable in its own way. <br />
<p>Douno rolled onto his back on the <i>tatami</i> floor. He heard scraping and thumping upstairs on the second floor. Perhaps Kitagawa was rummaging through the albums in the closet again. Remembering how the man had called him cute, Douno chuckled silently to himself. It wouldn’t hurt to bring a few of the albums back home with them―his thoughts trailed off, and before long, he was asleep.<br />
<p>The sun had dipped considerably westward when Douno woke up. He looked at the clock, which indicated that it was a little past four in the evening. Granted, until yesterday there had been a bustle of people coming and going, coupled with several days’ worth of exhaustion. But he had not expected to be asleep for this long.<br />
<p>Douno touched the nape of his neck, which felt damp and sweaty. He was also thirsty. He went into the kitchen to take a draught of cold bottled tea. While he was at it, he peeked into the refrigerator, and found they had barely enough food to last them for three more days. If he bought too much, he would have to throw it all away later―but if they kept getting takeout, it would not be good for digestion.<br />
<p><i>I guess I need to go shopping, then.</i> Douno sighed with a hand to his hip. Since he had not taken the car here, he would have to walk to the nearest supermarket. It was a five-minute drive, but on foot―it would probably take a long time.<br />
<p>Douno went upstairs to find Kitagawa still looking through the albums, his interest showing no signs of waning. This time he had probably heard Douno’s footsteps on the stairs, for he was already looking this way before Douno called out to him.<br />
<p>“I’m going to the supermarket. Anything you want me to get?”<br />
<p>“What’re you buying?”<br />
<p>“Just some stuff to eat. I don’t think we’ll last until Sunday with what we have.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa put down the album he had been holding and got to his feet.<br />
<p>“I’ll go with you.”<br />
<p>“If you want something, I can just get it for you.”<br />
<p>“No. I’ll go.”<br />
<p>Since they were both leaving the house, Douno locked the door just in case, though he supposed it would be alright if he didn’t. They walked side-by-side down the quiet, deserted rural road. They could see the train tracks far away. They walked underneath the overpass, climbed a steep slope, and crossed the bridge, emerging on a riverside path. Only then did they see the supermarket, but it was small and distant.<br />
<p>Douno wiped the sweat streaming down his cheek on the shoulder of his shirt. It was hot, but the breeze made it tolerable. There was a lot of silver grass growing along the riverside path which rustled every time the wind blew.<br />
<p>The walk to the supermarket ended up taking them forty minutes. Although they had not bought much, they were still loaded down, and they were two people. Douno had considered taking the taxi home, but before he could suggest it, Kitagawa started ahead of him on the walk back.<br />
<p>Douno followed behind, unable to bring up the topic. The forty-minute walk here was already enough to make Douno raise his white flag. Kitagawa, however, appeared not to mind long walks. Come to think of it, although Kitagawa’s current work was more or less a desk job, before his injury he had worked at construction sites and places where his physical strength was the tool of his trade.<br />
<p>The sunset had fully coloured the sky now. The ears of silver grass rustled and swayed in the cooling breeze. The yellow-brown path and the shadow at his feet; the overpowering smell of grass―Douno’s senses tingled. Hadn’t he experienced something like this before? Yes, it was―<br />
<p>He suddenly remembered. Beside the rented house they had lived in before his father had bought their own place, there had been a field of silver grass. Douno had played there often as a child, and when the sun set, his mother would come out to the edge of the path and call him in. Douno was lulled into the strange illusion that this field was the very same one. He stopped in his tracks.<br />
<p>“What’s wrong?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa, who was some steps ahead of him, turned around.<br />
<p>“The silver grass...”<br />
<p>That field of silver grass no longer existed. One day, a large sign was put up, the field was fenced off, and children were no longer allowed inside. Not long afterwards, the green field was dug up and made into a vacant lot with conspicuous chunks of brown dirt. A large store was built on that plot.<br />
<p>Douno had felt forlorn at the time, but the forlornness he felt now was of a different kind. That field of silver grass would never return, and his mother, who used to call him inside, was no longer here. The only vivid things were his own memories, and everything was a story of a past so distant it could be misted over.<br />
<p>Everything else would eventually drift along and disappear in the same way. He himself, and all the people around him, would disappear in a current no one could stop.<br />
<p>“What’s wrong, Takafumi?”<br />
<p>‘Eternity’ was a mere convenient illusion. Some day, this man would disappear as well. If they went by age, perhaps Douno would be the one to go first.<br />
<p>No one knew when the end would come. One could die tomorrow, from an illness or an unexpected accident.<br />
<p>“Oh, it’s nothing.”<br />
<p>It was meaningless to be melancholic about the future. Douno shook his head lightly as if to wave away his emotions. The present was more important than the past or the future. The here and now was what was important.<br />
<p>“I was just thinking how beautiful the silver grass was.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked at Douno steadily for a minute, then suddenly turned his back and clambered down to the riverbank. He yanked a few stalks of silver grass and came back.<br />
<p>He thrust them out to Douno as if to say they were for him, and Douno took them. The light-brown ears, unopened still, felt soft and a little damp, like dog fur.<br />
<p>“Give me that.” Kitagawa pointed to the grocery bag.<br />
<p>“Don’t worry about it. It’s not that heavy.”<br />
<p>“Half and half. You carried it halfway, so I’ll carry it the rest of the way.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa swiped the bag from him and began walking briskly. Douno hastily followed him. He clenched the silver grass tightly in his right hand like a child, and ran towards the gentle shadow. His memories overlapped with his past. His hunger had driven him to run, and he had thought only of one thing. That warm place with the steam rising from the pot.<br />
<p>Douno laughed at himself for behaving like a child at this age. He felt comfort and security in the broad shoulders that walked in front of him. The field of silver grass rustled and swayed.<br />
<p><i>If only I could stay with this man forever. No―I</i> am <i>going to be with him.</i> Douno turned the thought over and over in his heart.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-field-of-silver_8.html">PART 2</a>.</center><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-73795393508217808202013-08-02T21:20:00.001-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.441-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box / Rainy DayThis is a sidestory/epilogue included in the Holly Novels edition of <i>Out of the Cage</i>.<br />
<br />
<span class="new">WARNING: Sexual content.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<center>RAINY DAY</center><br />
<br />
It was supposed to be daytime, but it was dark inside the room. It was dark, like in the early hours before dawn. He couldn’t tell where he was. His heart began to race at the overwhelming sense of unease, but that passed in an instant. He could see his own two hands, and they were large. He wasn’t very smart, but with these two hands he could do a decent range of manual labour. <i>I’m not a kid anymore. This isn’t the tiny room I used to be in when I was younger.</i><br />
<p>A thin sheen of sweat coated his brow. It was hot and humid in the room. Even the intermittent breeze directed at him by the swinging fan at his feet felt somewhat moist.<br />
<p>Kitagawa rubbed his face vigorously with both hands before he slowly sat up. There was a figure beside him in the same futon. A human figure, curled up in a cream-coloured towel blanket. He carefully turned the blanket down, revealing the man’s bare, defenceless skin. The man was asleep on his side, not even wearing underwear.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Kitagawa’s body burned with thirst despite how much he had indulged himself the night before. The other man’s breathing was slow and regular, and he showed no signs of waking up. Kitagawa gently rolled the figure onto his back and climbed on top. The warmth of the other’s skin aroused him, and he kissed those lips which presently existed only to breathe. His greedy kisses attempted even to take the man’s breathing away, and eventually his eyelids fluttered as he emerged from his slumber.<br />
<p>“―Kei...?”<br />
<p>He felt a shiver up his spine. The man had called his name. <i>His</i> name. Before, it had been a mere superficial decoration. This man had given it meaning.<br />
<p>Now that the man was awake, Kitagawa entwined his tongue with his. A breathy moan escaped through the man’s nose, spurring Kitagawa on. Kitagawa kissed the man’s chin, licked his throat, and nuzzled the groove between his collarbones before latching his lips onto his chest, which he had fondled to his heart’s content yesterday. He sucked hard.<br />
<p>“Kei―Kei...!”<br />
<p>He closed his lips around the entire nipple, let his tongue flicker over the tip, and bit it lightly. The body in his arms grew hot and damp to the touch. His lover’s low gasps rang deep into his ears as the man ran his fingers through Kitagawa’s hair, as if silently begging for more.<br />
<p>With his lips still wrapped around the man’s nipple, Kitagawa forcefully opened his legs and slid his hips between them. His lover’s member that pressed up against his belly button was hard and hot, though not completely erect. When Kitagawa closed his right hand around it, the man let out a short cry.<br />
<p>Kitagawa rubbed it along its shaft, pressed down hard on the tip with his thumb, and tightened his fingers around it. He lovingly and thoroughly caressed the heated and trembling member in his hands, and peered into his lover’s face. The man’s eyes swam with desire as he lapped up the pleasure that was offered to him; his mouth was half-open, and his chest rose and fell rapidly, unable to hide his arousal.<br />
<p>Kitagawa kissed him deeply while he lifted the man’s right leg up. He pushed the tip of his own member into the narrow space in his lover’s lower half, rubbing it up against the soft spot that always accepted him.<br />
<p>“Kei―!” his lover pleaded tensely, shaking his head as if to avoid his kisses. “―Not that.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa pressed his lips to the man’s slender neck and bit it playfully. Still hoisting the man’s right leg up, he rubbed his own erect member and smeared his pre-cum on the same spot. This time, his lover covered his crotch with this right hand to block him. Kitagawa pushed the tip of his rod insistently against the back of the man’s hand. <br />
<p>“You don’t want me to put it in?”<br />
<p>Even in the dim light of the room, he could see his lover turn red.<br />
<p>“It’s already light outside.”<br />
<p>“I want to put it inside, Takafumi. You’re off work today, aren’t you?”<br />
<p>“Well, yeah, but...”<br />
<p>“Let me put it in.”<br />
<p>His lover shifted his gaze and hesitated at his plea. As Kitagawa kissed him repeatedly and persisted in appealing his desire, Douno’s shielding right hand finally fell away.<br />
<p>Kitagawa pushed his tip strongly against the spot which had been opened for him. He had penetrated it numerous times last night, so it was only tight on the way in. He thrust it in far enough for their pubic hairs to tangle together, and began to move in and out slowly.<br />
<p>Back when he had been inexperienced at the act, he used to jerk his hips more forcefully, but he came to realize it only caused Douno pain unless Kitagawa took the time to get him settled in. He could tell it pleased the man’s body more when he did it slowly. Watching the man in turn aroused him more.<br />
<p>“Ah―ah―”<br />
<p>Takafumi covered his face with both hands and shuddered. When Kitagawa sped up his movements a little, the man’s penis reared into a full erection. Once Takafumi’s body got used to the movement, he seemed to feel more pleasure from being hurried a little. As his lover moaned sweetly and writhed, his spine taut in pleasure, Kitagawa remained deep inside him and tightly grasped the base of the man’s quivering penis along with his balls. He felt the man squeeze him so hard it hurt. The searing membrane around him throbbed as his lover released his desire.<br />
<p>“...Don’t look at me...” his lover pleaded in a trembling voice. “It’s embarrassing...”<br />
<p>“We did the same thing last night.”<br />
<p>They had done this act numerous times last night, but he felt like Douno’s pleasure was more heightened now, in the morning.<br />
<p>“But it’s bright... and I can see everything.”<br />
<p>It was cloudy outside, and so not as bright as on a sunny day, but they could still see every corner of the room well enough. He remembered now how Takafumi would always turn out the lights before they went to sleep. He lifted his lover’s scrotum and stared at the part that joined them. Noticing what was at the end of his gaze, his lover squirmed and tried to edge upwards, but Kitagawa firmly pulled his hips closer. He could clearly feel his member deeply penetrating that tiny spot.<br />
<p>“It turns me on when I can see you, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>He soothed the slightly resistant man and resumed thrusting gently. Then, he hoisted the man’s twisting body in his arms and, without breaking their connection, sat him on his lap.<br />
<p>“Ah―ah―!”<br />
<p>Douno clung to Kitagawa’s neck and moaned in a whimpering voice. Now that he was upright, the liquid desire Kitagawa had released inside him yesterday spilled out and trickled down Kitagawa’s penis.<br />
<p>Kitagawa stroked the man’s head and whispered in his ear.<br />
<p>“Move like you want to, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>“I c―can’t.”<br />
<p>“Sure you can. I’ll help you.”<br />
<p>He placed the man’s hands on his shoulders, supported the man’s slender hips with both hands, and rocked him encouragingly. Gradually, the man began to move his hips erotically without Kitagawa’s help. Kitagawa could see his own penis slide in and out of view from the narrow opening. He could hear the slippery sound of their wet flesh rubbing against each other. Juices dripped. His lover’s movements grew more frantic, and in moments, the man ejaculated on his belly.<br />
<p>“Did it feel good?” Kitagawa whispered into the man’s ear. The man’s face flushed crimson as he tried to break their connection. Kitagawa hastily held him back.<br />
<p>“Not yet. I haven’t come yet.”<br />
<p>He pushed the man down and climbed over top of him. He kissed his lover over and over as he began a slow piston inside the man’s body, savouring every move inside the now soft and completely loosened spot.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Kitagawa had barely any memories of his childhood. But the things he did remember were vivid: the interior of the square room, his constant hunger, and the overpowering smell of human excrement which threatened to render his nose senseless.<br />
<p>He may have gone to kindergarten or preschool, but his memories of those years were vague. But one thing he remembered clearly was that his time alone seemed to stretch on forever.<br />
<p>Had he been crammed into that small room since childhood because his mother had gotten sick of raising him? <i>Then maybe she shouldn’t have had me at all</i>, he thought, but there was no way of asking her why she’d decided to have him. He had no idea where his mother was now. He had a feeling he would go on never to see her again, and he did not want to see her badly enough to search for her. <i>My mother probably doesn’t feel any love for me, anyway</i>, he thought.<br />
<p>Although his mother would probably not go to jail, he wondered if she would still be punished somehow for what she did. Would she ever regret her actions and feel remorse for setting her son up to murder someone?<br />
<p>Whenever he thought of his childhood and about his father, Kitagawa always felt a smarting pain in a corner of his head, and he would grow restless and irritated. This never used to happen before. He had started to feel irritated ever since he came to realize that what his mother did was wrong. <br />
<p>He reached out to his lover lying beside him and drew him close. He felt the man’s warmth, and inhaled his scent deeply. His irritation subsided instantly as if it had been a dream. The smarting in his head grew faint.<br />
<p>“Feel like getting up soon?” said a voice by his ear. “It’s almost noon. I’m starting to get hungry.”<br />
<p>Douno sat up. Kitagawa was hungry, too, but did not want to be apart from this man just yet. He clung to Douno’s naked belly.<br />
<p>“Don’t be such a kid,” Douno laughed softly.<br />
<p>He gently pushed Kitagawa off and got to his feet. He picked up his underwear, put on his pyjamas which had been strewn across the floor, and left the room. Kitagawa remained lying on the futon for a while, but he began to feel lonely being by himself in the dim room. He put on his underwear and his pyjama bottoms before slinking out of their ten-square-metre bedroom.<br />
<p>He entered the kitchen to see Douno squatting by the edge of the refrigerator feeding a white cat with black patches in its fur.<br />
<p>“It was meowing for a while by the back door. I totally forgot about its food.”<br />
<p>Douno gently ran his fingers over the cat’s wet head.<br />
<p>“I know we started feeding it because it comes by often, but I wonder who it belongs to?”<br />
<p>The cat was wearing a collar. It had already been full grown and wearing a collar since the first time it began to frequent their yard. However, the collar had no address, nor did it have the pet’s name. The cat could hardly be called cute, but Kitagawa and Douno had begun to feed it since it kept meowing persistently at the back door. Soon, it began to come by regularly in the mornings and evenings. Kitagawa was the one who began giving it leftovers until Douno bought cat food.<br />
<p>The cat began to clean its face after polishing off the food in its bowl.<br />
<p>“She’s actually a girl, you know.”<br />
<p>“Oh, really?”<br />
<p>Douno picked the cat up. He was right; the cat had no balls as far as he could see. Kitagawa gave the cat’s white furry belly a casual rub, and was met with a kick.<br />
<p>“Ow!”<br />
<p>The cat twisted out of Douno’s arms and landed on its feet on the floor. It went to the back door in the kitchen and meowed in a demanding way. Douno let the cat out before hurrying back to Kitagawa’s side.<br />
<p>“Are you alright?”<br />
<p>The cat’s claws had left three clear lines on Kitagawa’s wrist.<br />
<p>“Ungrateful cat,” Kitagawa grumbled, clicking his tongue.<br />
<p>“The belly is a vulnerable spot, after all,” Douno said. “Maybe she was pregnant.”<br />
<p>Blood welled up from the scratches. Douno took Kitagawa’s hand and licked his bleeding wrist.<br />
<p>“I wonder where we put the band-aids?” he murmured to himself as he left the kitchen. Once he was out of sight, Kitagawa licked his wound once again, which had stopped bleeding.<br />
<p>After putting a bandage over Kitagawa’s scratch, Douno opened the fridge and sighed. <br />
<p>“We didn’t have much food stocked up. It’s not breakfast hour anymore, either... are you okay with fried rice?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa nestled close to his lover from behind and reached below his belly.<br />
<p>“Now, now,” Douno reprimanded gently. “What do you feel like eating, Kei?”<br />
<p>“Anything you’ll make, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>“Then maybe you can have cat food, like the cat.”<br />
<p>“That’s fine.”<br />
<p>There was a moment of silence.<br />
<p>“I was just kidding,” Douno said quietly. “I would never feed you that.”<br />
<p>“I’ll eat anything you serve. Even cat food.”<br />
<p>“I said it was a joke,” Douno murmured somewhat sadly, even though he had brought it up first.<br />
<p>It continued to rain outside, and the view of the yard was blurred and smoky from the room facing out. Their dog Ao showed no signs of coming out of her doghouse. Perhaps even dogs found the rain annoying.<br />
<p>Douno was outside in the yard with an umbrella, putting a bowl of food in the doghouse. They had taken her in a month ago. Despite having heard from Kitagawa the day before that he was bringing a dog home, Douno had been astonished.<br />
<p>“This is the dog?”<br />
<p>“This is it.”<br />
<p>Douno looked down at the sandy dog with white paws. <br />
<p>“But it’s... big.”<br />
<p>Ao was already a grown dog when they took her in. <br />
<p>“The owner probably got sick of taking care of it,” a fellow worker at Kitagawa’s site had guessed, judging by how affectionate the dog was.<br />
<p>“I never said it was a puppy,” Kitagawa said.<br />
<p>“Yeah, but...”<br />
<p>“I feel like we’re gonna get along.”<br />
<p>Douno chuckled.<br />
<p>“Okay, fine,” he had relented.<br />
<p>Douno came back into the house with a piece of paper, which he put on the table.<br />
<p>“It was in the back of our mailbox. Apparently there was supposed to be a fireworks festival today.”<br />
<p>The light-pink flier on the table was blazed with a large heading that said “Festival of Fireworks” and went on to list today’s date.<br />
<p>“It says ‘may be cancelled due to weather’, so I guess it won’t happen in this rain.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stared intently at the flier.<br />
<p>“When I was a kid, my life used to hinge on whether the fireworks were happening or not. It was that big of a deal,” Douno reminisced as he sat down. “I was excited for the fireworks, of course, but I think I was excited the most for the food stalls. Ice cream, <acronym title="A snack made of waffle-like batter and filled with red-bean paste. At festivals, these are made outdoors on the spot.">oban-yaki</acronym>, grilled squid.... I only had a little bit of allowance to spend, so I was always super serious about which prize draw I’d do.”<br />
<p>Douno sounded happy.<br />
<p>“I wish I could’ve seen you then, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>Douno shook his head.<br />
<p>“It wouldn’t have been anything special. I was a normal kid. My marks were average, I was average at sports. If you asked me what my special skill was, I wouldn’t have been able to answer. Oh, but I used to like trains a lot back then. I rode a lot of different ones.”<br />
<p>“You enjoyed riding the train?”<br />
<p>“Yeah. I liked being bumped along. And it was such a strange, magical feeling to watch the scenery change out the window. I’d completely forgotten about how much I used to love them.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stared at the Douno’s face as the man spoke of his memories.<br />
<p>“I want to see inside your head.”<br />
<p>“In my head?” his lover repeated.<br />
<p>“I feel like it’d be a lot of fun to watch.”<br />
<p>“Well, but it’s all just childish stuff.”<br />
<p>“It’s fun listening to you talk about it. I just thought it’d be fun if I could see it, too, because I’ve never gone to festivals or food stalls.”<br />
<p>“Sorry,” Douno apologized suddenly.<br />
<p>“Why’re you apologizing?”<br />
<p>“I’d heard about your childhood, but―I forgot.”<br />
<p>“That doesn’t mean you have to apologize. Your enjoyment belongs to you. You don’t have to worry about me. But―” Kitagawa added at length, “these things still feel like they belong to someone else.”<br />
<p>“Someone else?”<br />
<p>“When I was younger, I used to hear these big bangs somewhere far away. I found out around middle school that they were fireworks. But I’ve never been near them, so to me they were always just things that lit up in the distance. And you know how families go walking together to the festivals wearing <acronym title="Yukata is a thin, cotton traditional Japanese dress that is worn during the summer, at summer festivals, or after a bath."><i>yukata</i></acronym>? And not just one or two of them―a whole bunch of people. I always found that so strange. I used to wonder what I’d have to do to turn out like that.”<br />
<p>Douno was looking at him steadily.<br />
<p>“I didn’t think it was unfair, but I did wonder why I was different. But I found out later that there’s no special reason for why my life was the way it was.”<br />
<p>Douno stood up.<br />
<p>“―Let’s go out.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa cocked his head.<br />
<p>“But it’s raining outside.”<br />
<p>“That’s fine. We’ll take the car,” Douno said firmly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Their drive took them to a large department store in front of the station. Kitagawa had seen it from the outside, but had never gone in. Inside the store, it was excessively bright and shiny. Kitagawa followed Douno through the aisles, feeling slightly hesitant about whether he was allowed to be here or not.<br />
<p>“Can you find a <i>yukata</i> that would look good on him?”<br />
<p>They had entered a shop for <i>kimono</i> fabrics, and as a store person sidled up to them, Douno had thrust Kitagawa out to her with these words. Kitagawa was taken by surprise.<br />
<p>“Takafumi, I don’t need a <i>yukata</i>,” he protested.<br />
<p>“You should have at least one. I already have one, so... please,” he said to the store person.<br />
<p>They were taken further into the store by two overly-cheery sales associates. He was shown various textiles, but he knew nothing about <i>yukata</i>, much less how it would end up looking on him. Just when he thought his mind would drown in indigo, a ready-to-wear article caught his eye.<br />
<p>“How about that?”<br />
<p>He pointed at the indigo on a mannequin in the corner of the store.<br />
<p>“That would be a display,” the associate informed him.<br />
<p>“Show me that.”<br />
<p>There were black patterns on the indigo fabric. The fabric was already sewn into a <i>yukata</i>, so Kitagawa tried it right off the mannequin. The hem was a little short for his tall figure.<br />
<p>“But it looks good,” Douno murmured.<br />
<p>“I agree,” the sales associate nodded slightly. “The subdued, mature look suits you very well, sir. We can tailor the hem right away, and you’ll be able to take it home today if you wish.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa decided on the ready-made <i>yukata</i> since he had Douno’s stamp of approval and they would be able to take it home within the day. They were told it would take about two hours to adjust the length of the hem. Kitagawa and Douno decided to spend time in the coffee shop inside the department store while they waited.<br />
<p>They had a view of the scenery outside from their window seat. The rain still showed no signs of letting up. In fact, it was raining harder.<br />
<p>“There aren’t many people here for a Saturday. I guess the rain must keep people away.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa nodded. Douno leaned in to peer at Kitagawa’s face.<br />
<p>“Are you worn out?”<br />
<p>“I’ve never been sandwiched between two people like that and asked ‘how’s this?’ ‘how’s that?’ every minute.”<br />
<p>Douno laughed.<br />
<p>“They couldn’t help it. We were the only customers there. But it was kind of fun watching you look out of your element.”<br />
<p>His lover slowly brought his coffee to his lips as Kitagawa asked him a question.<br />
<p>“Why a <i>yukata</i>?”<br />
<p>“Why what?” Douno tilted his head.<br />
<p>“Why did you want to buy me a <i>yukata</i>?”<br />
<p>“I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have one. I had some money left over from my bonus, anyway.”<br />
<p>“But people barely wear them, right?”<br />
<p>“I’m sure you’ll wear it if you have it.”<br />
<p>They spent about an hour in the coffee shop before leaving to wander the department store. They browsed some clothes, but Kitagawa was blown away by their prices. Some cost half of what Kitagawa made in a month. But if they were being sold like this, he figured there must be people who bought them, too. He wondered what kind of people did, and then realized it was only an idle thought. He wasn’t very interested in actually knowing.<br />
<p>They continued to look, but ended up returning to the fabric shop without buying anything. The adjusted hem on the <i>yukata</i> was just the right length on Kitagawa, so they asked for it to be wrapped up on the spot.<br />
<p>When they got home, Douno asked him to put on the <i>yukata</i> again. He got as far as draping it over himself, but had no idea how to tie the <acronym title="The stiff sash that goes around the waist and keeps the kimono together."><i>obi</i></acronym>. Douno appeared not to know either. Kitagawa simply tied it in a regular knot. The <i>kimono</i> restricted his leg movement, and he had no idea how to sit properly. He sat down on the low table, knowing it was impolite, and a fleeting thought crossed his mind. <i>This would be punishment material if this was prison.</i><br />
<p>“You look really good in a <i>yukata</i>, Kei,” Douno said happily.<br />
<p>“I can’t really tell.” Kitagawa scratched the back of his head.<br />
<p>“It looks good. But I’m glad it rained today.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa asked him why.<br />
<p>“This flier says if it rains, it’ll be postponed to next Sunday. Next week, let’s wear that to go watch the fireworks. I’ll look up how to tie the <i>obi</i> by then, too.”<br />
<p>Douno took Kitagawa’s right hand.<br />
<p>“We’ll go a little early and look around the stalls. I’ll tell you all the things I used to like. We’ll eat some grilled squid, and we’ll wait on the beach for the fireworks to start. I’ve been a couple times before, and I remember there were a lot of people. We might have trouble getting spots.”<br />
<p>“Is that how it usually is?”<br />
<p>“I’m sure it’ll be a huge turnout. Enough to make it hard to move. But with these kinds of festivals, it’s better to have more people. It can be a little sad if the turnout is small. Anyway, we’ll play games and eat, and you can see for yourself what kind of event it is. That way, Kei, you won’t have to peek into my head to know what it’s like. Fireworks won’t be something strangers do anymore. We’ll enjoy them together.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa clasped the fingers around his hand and pulled them close.<br />
<p>“Kei?”<br />
<p><i>I want you, I want you</i>, he had sought in stubborn pursuit, and the hand he had finally caught was warm. Takafumi was gentle―and he smelled nice, like the warmth of the sun.<br />
<p>“Don’t be too nice to me,” Kitagawa said in a strained voice, pressing his face against Douno’s flat belly. “I’ll get carried away.”<br />
<p>He was petted on the head. When the man gently ran his fingers through his hair like this, it was so comforting he could almost cry. He remembered how the cat would always close its eyes in pleasure when Douno petted her. <i>Maybe she feels the same way I do,</i> he thought.<br />
<p>“Then you <i>should</i> get carried away,” Douno said. “I think I can handle a little selfishness from you.”<br />
<p>“I’ll gonna say something I can’t take back,” Kitagawa warned.<br />
<p>“And what sort of outrageous request is this?” Douno chuckled as he continued to stroke him on the head.<br />
<p>“Stay with me until I die.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa squeezed the hand that he held.<br />
<p>“If you’ll be with me, I won’t mind eating cat food for the rest of my life.”<br />
<p>A long silence.<br />
<p>“You didn’t need to mention the cat food,” Douno said softly, in a trembling voice.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The rain finally stopped in the evening. Cracks formed in the clouds covering the sky, letting the orange rays of the sun seep through.<br />
<p>“Since the rain’s stopped, maybe there’ll be fireworks,” Kitagawa had suggested. <br />
<p>“Probably not,” Douno had said in a matter-of-fact tone. “It takes time to set up fireworks. I don’t think they could have set them up in that rain.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa wondered how Douno could know about such things. Perhaps it was common sense if one lived a normal life.<br />
<p>Ao came out of her dog house once the rain stopped. She barked loudly. As Kitagawa prepared to take her out for a walk, Douno also came along. The dog trotted down the path, heedlessly splashing through the puddles. Its white paws quickly turned grey.<br />
<p>Once they reached the riverside, Kitagawa took Ao’s leash off. Newly freed, the dog dashed around the river bank and rolled around in glee. Once in a while she came back to Kitagawa, then went darting off again.<br />
<p>Kitagawa had always wanted a dog. He had wanted one badly. Now, he realized it was not so much because he had a particular attachment to dogs.<br />
<p>It was because families with dogs looked happy. He had felt like if he got a dog himself, he would become part of that happy circle. Perhaps he had seen a dog as a symbol of happiness.<br />
<p>He gazed absently at Ao, who seemed to be having enough fun by herself. <br />
<p>“Kei,” a voice called him. He turned around.<br />
<p>“I’m thinking we should save up and... maybe go on a trip next year.”<br />
<p>“A trip?”<br />
<p>“I’m thinking Spain.”<br />
<p>“Spain?”<br />
<p>He had heard of it, but hadn’t the faintest idea where it was. Somewhere below the United States, perhaps?<br />
<p>“That’s where the Sagrada Família is. The foreign church you once drew, Kei. Wouldn’t you want to see the real thing?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa brought his hand to his mouth and thought.<br />
<p>“I can do that?”<br />
<p>Douno laughed. “Of course you can. Anyone can travel, as long as you have a passport and money.”<br />
<p>“But I have a criminal record.”<br />
<p>“It doesn’t matter. You can still get a passport. You just have to apply for it.”<br />
<p>He remembered the building he had seen in a book. For a period of time in prison, he had drawn fervently because it made him happy to be praised by Douno. <i>The more complicated it is, the more I’ll be praised when I finish it.</i> He had chosen the photo based on that one thought, but as he went on to draw it out, he began to wonder. This was an incredibly difficult structure even to copy on paper―why had they thought of building something like this? It would have taken much less effort to build a normal-shaped building.<br />
<p>As soon as the thought occurred to him, he began to feel that the peculiar shape was beautiful.<br />
<p>“―It’s like a dream.”<br />
<p>“It’s not. We’re going to make it a reality. We’re going to the festival, we’ll see the fireworks, and we’ll go on trips. Your life is going to get hectic, Kei.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa clasped Douno’s hand.<br />
<p>“And are you gonna be there, Takafumi?”<br />
<p>“Huh?”<br />
<p>“Are you gonna be there beside me all those times?”<br />
<p>“―I will. Two of us would be more fun than one for these kinds of things, right?”<br />
<p>“Okay,” Kitagawa murmured.<br />
<p>Darkness fell completely around them. Kitagawa called Ao over, but the dog did not come back on the first try. Kitagawa had to repeat her name three times before Ao finally listened. They leashed her again and slowly made their way back down the path they had come.<br />
<p>When they got home, they tethered Ao to his house and went around to the front door. There was a corner of a piece of paper sticking out of the mailbox. Douno went ahead into the house, apparently oblivious to it. Kitagawa opened the mailbox and saw a postcard addressed to him.<br />
<p>The mailer was Shiba, a former fellow inmate with whom Kitagawa had worked at the same factory until last year. Shiba had been sympathetic and very caring back when Kitagawa was searching for Douno’s whereabouts. <br />
<p><i>Sending you my summer greetings. I hope you’ve been well since then. Things haven’t changed much on my end.</i><br />
<p>It was a short note, but Kitagawa could sense the man’s concern from his words. After Douno had been found, Kitagawa had left Shiba with his address before he moved, but had not been in contact with him since then.<br />
<p><i>I’m so happy, I feel like I’m dreaming. So happy, no words can describe how I feel―</i>words overflowed, words he wished he could tell someone. Kitagawa closed his fingers around the postcard and shed a few tears.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>-- END OF SHORT STORY --</center><br />
Read the short story <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/09/narise-konohara-in-box-field-of-silver.html">Field of Silver Grass</a>.<br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.<br />
<br />
* Some visual aid: <a href="http://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/4883863336">ergo Vol. 1</a> (Amazon) The cover of this issue of <i>ergo</i>, an anthology of manga adaptations of Konohara's work, features what looks like Douno and Kitagawa, perhaps a week later from this story. Aww, how cute!9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-63429864640949613012013-08-02T21:03:00.001-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.429-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box / And then....This is a (very) short sidestory included in the Holly Novels edition of <i>In the Box</i>.<br />
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<center>AND THEN....</center><br />
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Oe remembered that day in particular because the news had been abuzz. A large bridge had collapsed somewhere―he’d forgotten where―sending many cars to the bottom of the river. The death toll had crept up with each repeated broadcast.<br />
<p>Oe gazed out the window while sadness brimmed from the screen. A gentle breeze was blowing, and the sky was blue. In the distance, he saw little white dots of cherry trees in full bloom. Pained voices on the news; happy weather. This was the kind of day on which Oe submitted his divorce papers to city hall.<br />
<p>“Why did you divorce?” his junior asked frankly. He was usually more reserved; perhaps the alcohol had gone to his head. Oe wondered if his irritation came from hearing on the news that it had been a year since the bridge collapse, which made him remember that it was exactly one year since he got a divorce.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“We were incompatible.”<br />
<p>“It wasn’t an affair?” his junior pried further.<br />
<p>“Didn’t I just say we were incompatible?”<br />
<p>Sensing he had gone too far, his junior apologized and backed off.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry.”<br />
<p>Katori had quit the office last year during the rainy season, saying he intended to open his own business in the country. Almost right afterwards, a new member had joined the detective agency―a man by the name of Uchihara. He was twenty-eight, and had abandoned his six-year career as an office worker to transfer to this job. He and Oe were nearly twenty years apart in age, and they could almost pass for father and son. Since there was no one else to teach him the ropes, Oe ended up training him. Uchihara learned quickly, and he had a good feel for the job. His experience as an office worker had instilled manners into him, setting him apart from the kind of duds who became detectives right out of university. He knew when to back off, and he knew precisely when to push. But for Oe, Uchihara’s ability to do everything to a tee got on his nerves. A junior who was a bit clumsy was more lovable and easier to relate to than a junior who was overqualified. No one needed a rising star of a swan in a flock of ducks.<br />
<p>As their conversation had stalled, they decided to pay the bill and leave the place. When Oe said he would cover the bill, Uchihara meekly bowed and thanked him. Since the subways were still running, they walked from the restaurant to the station. Uchihara had been the one to propose going to this <i>izakaya</i>, which Oe frequented. <br />
<p>“Didn’t you say the grilled skewers are good there? I love those things,” he had said with a grin. Oe had had no choice but to take him.<br />
<p>“Aren’t you going to remarry?”<br />
<p>They walked side-by-side. His junior was taller than him. Oe felt a little weary that they were still having this conversation.<br />
<p>“I don’t have someone <i>to</i> remarry. No one wants anything to do with a lowly middle-aged man like me.”<br />
<p>His own words depressed him. His wife had proposed a divorce a year ago, right after he had finished a search for a missing person. His daughter had gone to university. In the early days of being away, she had cried out of loneliness. Now, a year later, even her monthly texts had ceased. He was being left behind. <i>I’m probably the only one who feels lonely now</i>, he thought.<br />
<p>“I think you’ve got a seasoned-veteran sort of allure.”<br />
<p>Oe could not take the compliment at face value. <i>What do you expect to get from sucking up to me?</i> he could only think coldly. He ignored the man and began to walk ahead of him.<br />
<p>“I really think so,” Uchihara emphasized, catching up to him. “I like you, Mr. Oe, and I’m actually wondering if you’d go out with me.”<br />
<p>Oe stopped and looked up at his junior. The man’s tone was casual, but his face was serious. Oe knew he could have just laughed it off, or lightly told him to stop kidding around. They worked in the same office, and they would have to see each other’s face many more times into the future. He knew it was the best way to keep things peaceful. But Oe did not bother laughing it off. His junior mattered so little to him that even when he confessed to being gay, it was not worth getting surprised over.<br />
<p>“I don’t swing that way.”<br />
<p>“I know. But if you’re not completely against the physical stuff, would you at least give it a thought? I won’t do anything you don’t want to do. If you start to think it’s gross, you’ll just have to tell me, and―”<br />
<p>“Whether it’s gross or not doesn’t matter,” he said curtly. “I don’t even like you.”<br />
<p>“Huh?” Uchihara said.<br />
<p>“I don’t like people like you. You guys all seem full of empty talk.”<br />
<p>He could see Uchihara’s face tense.<br />
<p>“Aren’t there places you gays get together? You should go there and find someone who has the same tastes as you.”<br />
<p>“I guess you’re right,” mumbled his junior, looking at his feet. Oe began walking ahead of him.<br />
<p>“I’ve met someone before who was gay. I had no idea what was going on in his head.”<br />
<p>Oe spoke loudly enough so that the man behind him could hear.<br />
<p>“All you do is have sex, right? It’s a hopeless, unproductive relationship.”<br />
<p>“Sure, but it’s no better being married if your whole family abandons you, is it?”<br />
<p>Oe spun around.<br />
<p>“I heard she didn’t even agree to a discussion. She must’ve been pretty sick of you, huh?”<br />
<p>Oe’s face burned. He grabbed his junior’s collar and swung a punch at his face. Uchihara collapsed to his knees.<br />
<p>“Wh―What the hell do you know?” Oe snapped. “Don’t you dare mock me.” His voice trembled.<br />
<p>“You mocked me first.”<br />
<p>Oe’s clenched fists shook in anger.<br />
<p>“This is outrageous, I’ve had enough of you,” he spat, and strode to the edge of the curb. An empty cab conveniently pulled up just then, and he climbed inside. He did not look back.<br />
<p>Oe curled up inside the taxi. He was angry, so angry, that tears spilled out of his eyes. He had wanted to start over. He had proposed to do so over and over again, but his wife had been cold to him. So cold, it was hard to believe she had loved him before. One year had passed. But even now, Oe wished somewhere in his heart that they would get back together. He knew it was an impossible wish. He had received many inquiries in the past concerning divorcing couples. Women had been much more decisive when it came to severing ties.<br />
<p><i>Why do I have to be hurt by such a young, insolent guy like him? Why do I have to have salt rubbed into my wound when it still hasn’t even healed?</i> Without any way to cope with his anger and sadness, Oe had no choice but to lick his own wounds.<br />
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<center>-- END OF SHORT STORY --</center><br />
Read the short story <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/08/narise-konohara-in-box-rainy-day.html">Rainy Day</a>.<br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-7196601437312991122013-07-27T15:45:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.436-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 14("Out of the Cage" Part 4)<br />
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This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/07/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-13.html">PART 13</a>.<br />
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<p>There were no oncoming cars or cars behind him, so he did not end up in an accident. Douno’s arms still trembled violently from the shock. He remained in the middle of the intersection for quite some time, causing other cars to honk at him repeatedly.<br />
<p>Douno thought he would die from spinning out, and that woke him to his senses. He passed through the intersection and drove slowly. He eventually arrived in front of the bridge where Honoka was thought to have been pushed off. Douno and his wife had come to this bridge just once after the incident. They had left quickly after putting down Honoka’s favourite flowers and sweets. They had not wanted to linger for long.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Douno got out of his car. Without even bothering to get an umbrella, he began to cross the bridge. In the middle were mounds of flowers and sweets left in memorial. He gazed at them while being drenched by the freezing rain. The sidewalk was lit up for an instant by a car’s passing headlights, and his eye caught vivid yellow flowers. They were arranged in a neat ring. When Douno picked it up, he could see the short stems bound neatly with thread.<br />
<p>Douno returned to his car and drove without a second thought, making his way to the single detached house in the outskirts of the residential area. He parked his car in the empty lot beside it.<br />
<p>There were no street lamps around the dilapidated house, which looked like it would collapse any minute. As Douno entered the gates, the entrance and yard were also darkened.<br />
<p>Douno banged on the sliding door with both hands.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa, Kitagawa,” he called over and over. Eventually the yard lit up a little as the lights were turned on inside. Shortly, a light went on in the entrance as well, and the sliding door rattled as it was opened.<br />
<p>Maybe Kitagawa had been sleeping. The man squinted his eyes as he looked silently down at Douno.<br />
<p>“You were kept in detention all this time, weren’t you, because they mistakenly thought you were the killer?”<br />
<p>“Doesn’t matter,” Kitagawa answered in his usual flat manner.<br />
<p>“I’m so sorry,” Douno apologized. “It must have been so frustrating for you.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa smiled faintly.<br />
<p>“It’s not your fault that I got arrested. They kept pressuring me to say I killed her, and they questioned me every day from morning to night, but it was no big deal. But they suddenly let me go this morning. I wonder why?”<br />
<p><i>It’s because the real killer was caught. It’s because the police didn’t have to twist a convenient person’s story to make him into the murderer anymore.</i><br />
<p>Douno wondered if the police had given Kitagawa a proper apology for mistakenly arresting him, and for detaining him for several days.<br />
<p>“Why are you wet?”<br />
<p>Douno had completely forgotten that he was drenched until Kitagawa pointed it out.<br />
<p>“Oh, I was just―walking outside, and I forgot my umbrella.”<br />
<p>“And have you come to blame me?”<br />
<p>Douno was surprised. Kitagawa had been the one forced through an unpleasant experience; he had been mistaken as the killer just for being tall and spending a lot of time with Honoka. He was not to blame. If anything, Douno was the one causing all of his troubles in the first place.<br />
<p>When the detective had told him Kitagawa was a possible suspect, Douno had outwardly denied it, while at the same time carrying a small suspicion in his heart. He had not been able to completely believe Kitagawa. If he really had, he would have made his objection heard, and he would have gone to see Kitagawa in person at the detention centre. <i>I’m a coward. I abandoned a man with no friends to defend him as soon as I found out that he might be the killer. I knew he was totally alone, and yet I still―</i><br />
<p>“I saw a crown of yellow flowers on the bridge,” Douno explained. “I thought it was probably you, and I came to say thanks.”<br />
<p>“I would’ve made a hundred, two hundred, as much as it took,” Kitagawa mumbled. “That day, I promised I’d go over in the afternoon, but I drank too much and overslept. If I’d gone to your place as I promised, Honoka wouldn’t have died.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s eyes were distant, as if his gaze were fixed on something beyond the night.<br />
<p>“If I’d kept my promise, she wouldn’t have died.”<br />
<p>“It’s not your fault,” Douno insisted. “There was a lot going on. It was an unlucky incident.”<br />
<p>“To hell with luck,” Kitagawa spat. “The fact is, if I’d gone, Honoka wouldn’t have died.” He repeated stubbornly. “She wouldn’t have died. I didn’t want her to die.”<br />
<p>Tears spilled from Kitagawa’s eyes.<br />
<p>“Tell me, am I being punished? Is that why someone important to me had to die? I killed a guy. But I went to jail. I was there for ten years. Wasn’t that enough to atone for my crime? Or―”<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked at Douno.<br />
<p>“Did the guy I kill have people who loved him―people who hate me now? Is that why the people I care about have to be killed in the same way?”<br />
<p>“No, this is―”<br />
<p>“Because it doesn’t make sense any other way,” Kitagawa interrupted.”I didn’t feel anything towards killing that guy. But because I killed him, there must be someone out there who feels how I feel right now. Did I bring this on myself? Tell me,” he demanded. “You always know a lot about everything.”<br />
<p>“I’m going to say this again, but it’s not your fault,” Douno said steadily. “If anything, it was a problem between my wife and me. You’re not to blame. None of this is your fault.”<br />
<p>“If it’s not my fault, why did she die?” yelled Kitagawa. His voice rang out across the rainy yard. Douno felt wracked with pain to look at the man in front of him.<br />
<p>“―Fate just made it happen that way. There’s no reason for you to blame yourself... you don’t need to feel that it’s your fault. Even if you didn’t come over that day―if Mariko hadn’t fallen asleep, if I hadn’t gone to work on my day off, maybe it wouldn’t have happened.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa pressed a hand to his forehead.<br />
<p>“I shouldn’t have thought your kid was cute. She said she liked me, that’s why... that’s why it hurts so much―”<br />
<p>Douno touched his cheek, wanting to comfort him somehow. Kitagawa slowly raised his head. <br />
<p>“Are you gonna die someday?”<br />
<p>Douno felt a chill pass over his heart.<br />
<p>“I am.”<br />
<p>“When you die, what’s gonna happen to me?”<br />
<p>He could not answer. Kitagawa clenched Douno’s right hand tightly. At the same time, Douno felt a presence. This kind of presence was easy to detect from someone. He tried to shake the man’s arm free and run, but was chased down. It was dark. He lost his way and dove into the yard. The overgrown grass ens"nared his feet. As he stumbled, he was caught. Douno lost his balance and fell into the grass. He struggled against the large man’s presence weighing down on him.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa, Kitagawa―!”<br />
<p>Douno’s cold lips were overlapped by another pair of cold lips. His belt was unbuckled, and his pants were yanked down. He felt something cold on his lower parts, then in the next moment, something large and hard was being pressed against it.<br />
<p>“Ah...!” Douno cried out in pain.<br />
<p>He was deeply and forcefully penetrated. Having prevented Douno from moving this way, Kitagawa tore off Douno’s tie and yanked his shirt up. The rain felt cold as it hit his bare skin. But Kitagawa’s hands were colder than that. Kitagawa supported Douno with his arms as he thrust his hips. Each jerking movement sent sharp pains through the region pried open to accept him, and Douno cried out in agony.<br />
<p>Even while being taken by force, Douno did not reject the man’s kisses. He entangled his warm tongue with the other man’s, and wept in pain as he embraced him.<br />
<p>There was an instant where their intercourse of pain turned into one of pleasure. It hurt, but it hurt and felt good. Amidst their violent and reckless sex, Douno stopped caring about what would befall him.<br />
<p>When the other man moved, the grass moved around him. Something fluttered onto the man’s shoulder. A yellow flower petal―Douno watched it absently, then scooped it up with the tip of his tongue before swallowing it quietly. <br />
<br />
<br />
<p>After their animalistic act in the yard, Douno was carried by the man and taken into the house. While they waited for the bathwater to warm up, Kitagawa wrapped a naked Douno in a blanket and held him in his arms.<br />
<p>Once the water was hot enough, Douno was put into the bath. At first the water stung his lower parts, but he soon got used to it. They made love again in the bath. Unlike the first time, Douno did not feel like struggling anymore. <br />
<p>Once they were out of the bath, Douno was towelled off thoroughly and taken to the futon, still unclothed. Kitagawa was also not wearing clothes. Kitagawa slipped into the futon with Douno, and began sucking at the buds on his chest, making Douno feel like he was caring for a little child. Kitagawa did not stop there; he licked Douno’s entire body like a dog. From behind his ears to between his toes, Kitagawa thoroughly licked every part of him.<br />
<p>Douno was flipped over onto his stomach, where Kitagawa let his tongue flicker over his stinging part before penetrating him again. Even though it really hurt, even though he cried, Kitagawa would not pull out of him.<br />
<p>“I love you,” the man told Douno as he lay weeping against the pillow.<br />
<p><i>I love you, I love you, I love you...</i> so many times it made his ears ache. It was strange―he felt like the words lessened the pain somehow.<br />
<p>Kitagawa finally fell asleep around dawn. Douno’s lower parts were in such pain from the jerking movements that he could barely stand to go to the washroom. Unable to go to work, Douno called the company from Kitagawa’s house and asked to have the day off. His guilt vanished as soon as he hung up the phone.<br />
<p>It felt chilly walking around naked, so Douno returned to the futon. Kitagawa looked like a child as he slept with his mouth open slightly. Douno needed no reason to kiss him. He did it because he wanted to.<br />
<p>Douno wondered what love was. Everyone used the word like the moral foundation of everything―but what was it? He definitely had loved his wife. But if someone were to ask if he still did, he could not answer. Why? Because he had been betrayed. Because she had slept with another man. Because she had continued to betray him for two years. Her betrayal was enough to make him lose sight of his love for her. Did this mean he had never really loved her in the first place?<br />
<p>Was real love the kind you saw in movies and novels, when you loved one person forever? Had Douno’s own love been fake?<br />
<p>What did he feel towards the man who was sleeping beside him now? What would he call this desire to kiss him? What would he call the feeling that seized his heart every time the man told him he loved him? Or was he simply being swept up in the man’s persistent devotion, thrust upon him at a time when Douno himself had grown apathetic with despair at his wife’s betrayal?<br />
<p>He had turned to the man because he had lost everything else―did that make him a coward? Unpleasant event after unpleasant event had swooped down on him; responsibilities had been thrust upon him. Perhaps he was just trying to escape reality by making himself think he loved this man.<br />
<p>If he really loved Kitagawa, he would have been able to love him ever since they were in prison. When Kitagawa confessed, he would have been able to answer with the same. After all, Kitagawa had continued to tell him he loved him ever since.<br />
<p>He had thought Mariko was cowardly for betraying him and unloading all of her responsibility onto him. But what he was doing was essentially the same. People didn’t need to know what love was to have sex. The only difference in his case was that no one would get pregnant. Whether they had done it once or numerous times, the fact remained the same.<br />
<p>The more Douno thought about it, the more he wanted to cry. He thought of the life that had ended and a life that was about to begin, and about himself. His thoughts made him sick of himself, and he curled up into a tiny ball.<br />
<p>When Douno woke up past noon, Kitagawa was not there. Perhaps he had gone to work. Douno looked at his surroundings. In the room was the futon he was sleeping in, a narrow three-level bookcase, and nothing else. Inside the bookcase, books and sketchbooks were sorted and arranged neatly. Almost none of the books looked new, and most looked worn and tattered. There was only one new book among them. On the cover was the Sagrada Família, and inside, Gaudí’s architectural pieces were featured with photos.<br />
<p>There were also many sketchbooks, close to ten. Douno extracted one from the shelf, wondering what kind of pictures Kitagawa drew. He flipped the page and was startled to see his own face. The date under the drawing was from three years ago, so he supposed Kitagawa had drawn the face from his memories in prison. Douno’s head was shaven in the drawing. Feeling awkward at seeing his own portrait, Douno continued flipping through the pages, but every drawing was of him. The next sketchbook was the same. The newest one was not used up yet, and on a page midway through, a single line was scribbled across the sheet. <i>Starting to forget his face.</i><br />
<p>It was impossible to take photos in prison, so Kitagawa had probably drawn his face entirely from memory. But as years passed, even that had begun to fade. From March of this year onwards, there were no more portraits of Douno’s face in the half-used sketchbook.<br />
<p>Douno returned the sketchbooks to the shelf. Spotting no towels in the room, he opened the sliding partition to the next room, still naked. A sudden burst of sunlight dazzled him, and he closed his eyes. A TV was placed on the floor, and a small table sat in the middle of the room. There was an <i>engawa</i> porch facing the garden, and Douno could see the shadow of a broad back seated there.<br />
<p>The shadow turned around at the sound of the partition sliding open. Kitagawa was wearing jeans, but nothing on top.<br />
<p>“My clothes are gone,” Douno said.<br />
<p>“They’re drying right now.”<br />
<p>Douno looked over to see his wet clothes drying on a line strung between two trees in the yard.<br />
<p>“Do you have a towel or anything?” he asked. “Even something I could wrap around my waist while my clothes dry―”<br />
<p>“The walls are pretty high. No one’s gonna see from outside.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa was right, there were the walls, but Douno felt unsettled walking around naked. However, as the man showed no signs of getting a change of clothes out for him, Douno resigned himself to crawling over to Kitagawa without wearing anything.<br />
<p>On the wooden floorboards of the porch were scattered many yellow flowers clipped at the stem. Kitagawa was binding each of them together with thread.<br />
<p>“A crown of flowers?”<br />
<p>“This is today’s. Flowers wilt quickly. I figured she wouldn’t like wilted ones.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s fingers moved nimbly.<br />
<p>“I heard somewhere before that thinking of someone is one way you could memorialize them. That’s why I’ve been thinking of her this whole time while I make these.”<br />
<p>Douno embraced Kitagawa from behind. His chest swelled with emotion, and he even teared up a bit. All the things he had mulled over endlessly―whether it was love or not, whether it was real or fake―seemed not to matter anymore.<br />
<p>Right now, Douno was overcome with love for the man in front of him. Purely love, and only love. That was the only reason he needed to hold the man close.<br />
<p>“...Don’t you need to go to work?” he asked.<br />
<p>“I got fired,” Kitagawa muttered. “I have to look for another job, or else I won’t be able to pay the rent.” Kitagawa placed his hand over Douno’s hands around him.<br />
<p>“Once I found a place where I could stay for a long time, I wanted to live in a house with a yard. One with lots of grass and trees, where I could keep a dog. This is my house, but it feels lonely. I can’t get it to feel warm like your house.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa gazed out beyond the garden.<br />
<p>“It’s lonely in a house with no people.” Kitagawa’s quiet voice spoke over the rustling breeze.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Douno returned home in the evening before the sun set. Kitagawa followed him out to the gate, but did not stop Douno from leaving. When Douno opened the door to his apartment, it was just as dark inside as it was outside. He turned on the light and spotted Mariko’s shoes neatly placed in the doorway. It looked like she was home after all.<br />
<p>He entered the living room to see a shadow curled up on the sofa. Mariko had apparently sensed him from the light turning on, for she sprang up.<br />
<p>“Are you feeling sick?” he asked her.<br />
<p>Mariko shook her head.<br />
<p>“...Where were you last night...?” she whispered.<br />
<p>“I slept over at Kitagawa’s place.”<br />
<p>A look of relief crossed Mariko’s face.<br />
<p>“I thought you weren’t going to come home,” she said. Her slender shoulders shook as she covered her face with her hands. “I called your work, and they said you took the day off...”<br />
<p>Douno put the plastic bag he had been carrying on the table. <br />
<p>“Have you eaten anything?”<br />
<p>Mariko shook her head.<br />
<p>“Let’s eat. I just bought some stuff on the way.”<br />
<p>They laid out the side dishes bought from their neighbourhood convenience store, and ate together. Mariko poured some tea. Once they finished eating and Mariko cleaned up, Douno began the conversation.<br />
<p>“I want to talk to you about something.”<br />
<p>They sat across from each other on the sofa in the living room. Mariko kept her eyes on her feet and refused to look up. <br />
<p>“After that, I thought about a lot of things. About your affair, about the baby inside you, and about Honoka.”<br />
<p>Douno paused.<br />
<p>“One option is for us to stay together and to raise the baby as our own. I said I wouldn’t be able to love it, but maybe if I spend time with it long enough, I’d develop an attachment and would come to care about it. But though I might able to love the baby, I won’t be able to look at you in the same way as before―as my wife, or as my lifelong partner.”<br />
<p>Mariko’s cheeks stiffened.<br />
<p>“You might think it was just one affair. Maybe some people would be able to forgive that. But that’s where our values differ.”<br />
<p>“I...” Mariko continued in a tremulous voice. “I love you.”<br />
<p>“Frankly, I don’t understand what’s going on in your heart. Feelings aren’t things you can measure in the first place, so maybe it’s wrong for me to say ‘understand’. But one thing I know for sure is that even if we continue to be together, I won’t want to protect you. I can’t see you as someone precious to me anymore.”<br />
<p>“Please divorce me,” Douno told her. Mariko chewed her lip and clenched her fists.<br />
<p>“What about the baby?”<br />
<p>“I’ll leave anything to do with the baby up to you.”<br />
<p>“You’re being irresponsible!” Mariko lashed out.<br />
<p>“But you’re positive it’s not my child, aren’t you? You know it’s his. It’s wrong to ask me for a decision.”<br />
<p>“But―” Mariko began, but Douno interrupted her.<br />
<p>“Once we divorce, you should remarry with that man if you can. Then, you can live as a true family. You’d have to deal with the neighbours talking here, so maybe it would be a good idea to live further away. He loves you, and he’s willing to claim the child as his own, right?”<br />
<p>“Use your common sense!” Mariko yelled. “He’s the husband of the woman who killed Honoka! I could never remarry someone like him!”<br />
<p>“But he says he wants you to have the baby, right?”<br />
<p>“But―”<br />
<p>Douno had thought long and hard over whether he should say this fact or not. But in the end, he chose to put it into words.<br />
<p>“You need to take responsibility for your actions.”<br />
<p>Mariko chewed her lip.<br />
<p>“I’m not going to let you get a divorce,” she murmured. “I still love you.”<br />
<p>“I don’t want to fight in court. I want to separate on good terms.”<br />
<p>Mariko broke down into tears. Even while watching his wife weep, even while feeling pity for her, Douno told himself he could not comfort her.<br />
<p>“I’ll hand over all of my property to you. I’m the one who brought up the divorce anyway, and once you have the baby, you’ll probably need money for living.”<br />
<p>Mariko cried and cried, then finally staggered out of the living room. He thought she had gone to the bedroom, but after a while he heard the sound of the shower.<br />
<p>The running water did not stop. Once Douno realized this, he dashed into the <acronym title="In many Japanese households, there is a separate “change room” where you leave your clothes before you enter the bathroom (which is more like a wet room).">change room</acronym>. The door to the bathroom was not locked. When he threw it open, the first thing he saw was the bathroom floor stained red. A paring knife lay on the floor nearby. Mariko was slumped over. When Douno gave her a shake, she appeared conscious.<br />
<p>Douno made a frantic call for the ambulance. Fortunately, Mariko’s wound was shallow and she did not need stitches. Mariko put up a fierce fight as she was brought into the hospital, screaming at everyone to let her die. She was injected with tranquilizers, and only then did she fall asleep.<br />
<p>Mariko remained unconscious in a deep sleep for half a day. When she finally opened her eyes, she looked at Douno, a tear rolling down her cheek.<br />
<p>“The cut wasn’t deep. The baby is okay, too,” he told her.<br />
<p>Mariko pulled the sheets over her face as sobs escaped her lips.<br />
<p>“Your parents are coming soon. They’ll take my place when they get here.”<br />
<p>Mariko tried to sit up from her bed.<br />
<p>“You’re not going to stay with me?”<br />
<p>“I have to go to work. I’ve taken a lot of time off already.”<br />
<p>“I’m going to kill myself if you don’t stay with me.”<br />
<p>“Please don’t make this hard for me,” Douno said wearily.<br />
<p>“I’m serious. I will die.”<br />
<p>Douno let out a strained sigh.<br />
<p>“I’ve talked to your parents. I’ve also told them I want to get a divorce. They have no problem with it.”<br />
<p>Mariko’s expression changed instantly from frail to furious.<br />
<p>“You made it sound like it was my fault, didn’t you, telling them their daughter was the one who went and had an affair first?” she accused.<br />
<p>Douno did not even have to go so far as to say Mariko’s affair was the reason, for it had been implied as such on yesterday’s news already. Mariko’s parents and Douno’s parents were sure to be aware of it.<br />
<p>“Let’s start over on separate paths,” Douno said. “I don’t think it was wrong for us to get married. I don’t, but I think somewhere along the way, we’ve drifted apart.”<br />
<p>Mariko did not agree to the divorce. Her parents arrived at six in the morning, and they switched places. Douno returned to his apartment and said his prayers to Honoka before going to work and apologizing to his boss for suddenly taking time off work the previous day.<br />
<p>Douno finished work past seven in the evening and headed straight to Kitagawa’s house. When he knocked on the sliding door, Kitagawa came bounding out to answer it. He was out of breath―such a small thing was still hopelessly endearing. <br />
<p>“What were you doing?” Douno asked.<br />
<p>“Reading a book,” Kitagawa answered, looking at his feet.<br />
<p>“Have you eaten dinner?”<br />
<p>“Not yet.”<br />
<p>“Let’s eat. I bought some stuff.”<br />
<p>They sat across from each other at the small table and ate. Kitagawa looked at him every so often as if to gauge his mood. The window facing the yard was open, and Douno could hear the chorus of the insects from the dense greenery outside. As if drawn to the nostalgic sound, Douno went out onto the porch after he finished eating. Kitagawa sat down beside him.<br />
<p>“I think I’ll be divorcing my wife,” Douno said, feigning nonchalance. “There’ll probably be some issues along the way, but once it settles down, would you mind if I moved in with you for a bit? If I end up giving my property over to her, I’ll have no money.”<br />
<p>There was no response. Douno panicked. He could not look the other man in the face anymore, and it was not out of sheepishness.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry,” he apologized hastily. “I understand if it’s too much of a short notice. And I’m kind of taking advantage of you, aren’t I, moving in with you right away like this...”<br />
<p>“Don’t you have anything else to say?”<br />
<p>Douno’s throat gave a loud gulp at his question. The quiet, the sound of the insects, stirred his panic even more.<br />
<p>“No, not really.” Douno looked down and clasped his hands. They lapsed into silence again. Unable to stand the awkwardness, Douno tried to stand up, but was grabbed by the right hand.<br />
<p>“Where’re you going?”<br />
<p>The man stared directly into his eyes.<br />
<p>“I was thinking of going home today.”<br />
<p>“Don’t go.”<br />
<p>“But―”<br />
<p>He was drawn close and embraced. The man’s hand snagged his belt and fumbled in a rush to take his clothes off.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa, I―” Douno resisted, but the man refused to listen. Partway through, Douno braced himself. He was stripped naked and made love to on the porch. As before, the pain in his lower region was enough to make it numb, but he shed no tears this time. Kitagawa released himself inside Douno twice.<br />
<p>After they had sex, they took a bath together. The man washed Douno’s hair. Since there was no shampoo, he scrubbed Douno’s head with soap, and it hurt a little.<br />
<p>“Don’t go,” Kitagawa murmured in the bath with his arms around Douno. Douno wanted just as strongly to be by his side, but he had his own reasons for wanting to go home.<br />
<p>“Mariko’s not at home today, so Honoka’s ashes will be all alone. That’s why I want to go back.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa wrinkled his brow and looked down. But he still held Douno tight.<br />
<p>“If you go home, I’ll be by myself.”<br />
<p>“I’ll come again.”<br />
<p>“I used to be fine alone. I was always alone. Whenever I went to your house to eat, play with your kid, and had to go home, I had this bad feeling. I feel even worse now. I feel like crying. I wonder why? You’ll have sex with me, and kiss me, but that just makes it even more―”<br />
<p>The man looked to him desperately. Douno cradled his head and kissed him.<br />
<p>“Just a little bit more. You only have to wait a little bit more, and I’ll come here. I’ll be with you so you don’t have to feel lonely.”<br />
<p>Once he got out of the shower, Douno began to prepare to go home.<br />
<p>“I’m leaving now,” he called hesitantly to the man, but Kitagawa sat with his back to him in a corner of the room without answering. When Douno gave up and started out the door, the man stopped him at the gates.<br />
<p>“Will you come tomorrow?”<br />
<p>“I might not be able to stay the night, but I’ll drop by after work.”<br />
<p>“Each day feels long.”<br />
<p>Douno laughed softly. “Once you go to sleep, half of the day will be over. Then, it’ll already be morning.”<br />
<p>As the man fussed like a child, Douno consoled him by squeezing his hand, and got into the car. Kitagawa did not move from the gates, and Douno felt pained as he watched the unmoving man in his rear-view mirror. He had looked so lonely―perhaps he should have brought the man home. But by the time the thought occurred to him, Douno had already arrived back at his own apartment.<br />
<p>Douno was startled to see the lights on inside. Perhaps Mariko was home? Or were her parents?<br />
<p>When Douno entered the apartment, he saw Mariko’s shoes. True, she had not been in serious condition, but he had not expected her to be home already after what happened yesterday.<br />
<p>“Welcome home.” Mariko came out into the hallway, apparently having heard the door open. “You’re home late. You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?”<br />
<p>Mariko’s attempt at acting like everything was normal was painfully unnatural.<br />
<p>“Actually, I already ate.”<br />
<p>“Oh.” Mariko looked at her feet. The white bandage around her wrist stung Douno’s eyes.<br />
<p>“Then will you take a bath?”<br />
<p>Mariko tilted her head when Douno hesitated.<br />
<p>“No, that’s fine, too. I’m just going to go to bed.”<br />
<p>He slipped past Mariko. Suddenly, he was grabbed by the arm.<br />
<p>“Where were you?”<br />
<p>Her eyes looked at him severely. <br />
<p>“What do you mean, where...?”<br />
<p>“I’m asking you where you ate and where you took a shower!”<br />
<p>Douno’s heart quaked at her sharp eye.<br />
<p>“You smell like cheap soap. It’s nauseating. You’re looking down on me because I’ve cheated, but you’re doing the same thing.”<br />
<p>“I’m not.”<br />
<p>“You <i>are</i>! You’re cheating too! But you go around and make it sound like it’s my fault you want to get divorced. Who is it? What kind of woman is she? Tell me the truth!”<br />
<p>Mariko lunged at him, and Douno tumbled backwards on the floor. It hurt to be hit, but he did not try to resist. Mariko eventually quieted down and began to cry, still straddling Douno.<br />
<p>“You’re going to say you want to separate because you love her more than me now, aren’t you? No,” she sobbed, “we still have our child.”<br />
<p>Mariko stroked her belly, but the baby inside her was not Douno’s child.<br />
<p>“I don’t really know if I love this person. But I do want to be kind to him.”<br />
<p>Mariko looked up.<br />
<p>“He says I just need to be there for him. That’s why―”<br />
<p>“It’s unfair,” Mariko said angrily. “You’re hurt, but at least you have someone you can lean on. I’m left all alone to deal with all the pointing fingers―”<br />
<p><i>It’s your fault that people are pointing fingers at you.</i> Mariko refused to look at how many people she had actually hurt through her “game”: not just Douno, but her extramarital partner, and his wife―<br />
<p>“Who is it?” Mariko shrieked. “Where’s she from? Spit it out. <i>Spit it out!</i>”<br />
<p>She grabbed his collar and shook him. Douno tried to remember what he loved about his wife. But even good memories with her turned muddied and grey, eaten away by the bad memories.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa. I ate and took a shower at his place.”<br />
<p>Relief instantly crossed Mariko’s face.<br />
<p>“You should have said so if you went to Mr. Kitagawa’s house. You’re very close to him, after all.”<br />
<p>“I slept with him.”<br />
<p>Mariko’s face tensed.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa’s been through a hard life. He went through a lot growing up, and he’s never been loved by someone. That’s why I want to be by his side.”<br />
<p>“Wh―What are you saying?”<br />
<p>“When someone tells me I’m the only one for him, I want to return his feelings.”<br />
<p>“But you’re both men! And besides―”<br />
<p>“That doesn’t matter.”<br />
<p>Douno paused.<br />
<p>“That kind of stuff doesn’t matter.”<br />
<p>He shifted Mariko off of him and sat her on the floor.<br />
<p>“We started being intimate two days ago. I haven’t separated with you yet, so I guess it might be considered an affair. I’m sorry.”<br />
<p>Douno placed both hands on the floor, and bowed his head. Then, he looked straight at Mariko.<br />
<p>“Please divorce with me so I can be with Kei Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>Mariko said nothing. She only turned her face away in silence.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The next morning, Mariko showed no signs of getting out of bed. Douno did not bother talking to her. He had a simple breakfast of toast, then left for work.<br />
<p>Douno finished work past seven. He wanted to go to Kitagawa’s house, but he felt it was a bad idea to come home late when Mariko was home.<br />
<p>There was also the fact that Mariko had still not come to terms with their relationship. There was also their divorce, and several things they still had to discuss in depth.<br />
<p><i>I can’t go today.</i> Douno felt especially guilty because he had seen the man look so lonely the day before. Feeling apologetic, he called the man’s house, but no one picked up.<br />
<p>Concerned, he took a detour on the way home to stop by Kitagawa’s house. As he sat absently waiting at a red light, he saw Kitagawa whizz by him on a bicycle.<br />
<p>Douno hastily rolled down the window and called out to him, but it was too late. Kitagawa had sped off in the opposite direction from where Douno was headed. It bothered Douno that the man had gone out despite their promise. Perhaps it was his own arrogance, but he could not help it. Douno turned his car around partway and began heading in the direction that Kitagawa had gone.<br />
<p>Douno knew Kitagawa had his own private life, and just because he had a promise with Douno did not mean he could not go out. But it still bothered him.<br />
<p>Perhaps Kitagawa had turned off somewhere on his bike, for Douno could not spot him anywhere. He continued to coast along in his car until he eventually reached the bridge where Honoka had fallen. He tried to turn back, then realized that perhaps Kitagawa had been heading here all along. <br />
<p>He had been making flower crowns every day. Maybe he had gone out to deliver today’s crown.<br />
<p>Douno continued for the bridge. People continued to leave flowers and sweets in the middle of the large bridge. Douno spotted a bicycle and a person’s figure. So Kitagawa had been heading this way after all. Douno tried to call out to him, then froze in shock. There was someone across from him. The street lights illuminated a figure―Mariko.<br />
<p>Douno was so shaken he could not even call out to them as he passed in his car. The two appeared not to notice him drive by. They neither turned around nor looked at him. Douno crossed the bridge and stopped his car a few dozen metres away. There were few cars on this road which ran along the ocean. He figured it would not be much of a nuisance if he parked his car here.<br />
<p>Douno wondered what kind of conversation Mariko and Kitagawa were having, but he hesitated at approaching them and joining in.<br />
<p>Douno watched the two a little ways off the bridge. The two were looking down at the river, with their hands on the railings. There was a break in the cars crossing the bridge, and a moment of silence fell. Only the street lamps dimly illuminated the two figures. Mariko suddenly glanced left and right, then pushed Kitagawa from behind. His large frame teetered forward, and he looked like he was about to fall. As he heeled and steadied himself, Mariko pushed him further.<br />
<p>“St―Stop it!”<br />
<p>Douno tore away from the railings towards them. Mariko jumped back looking astonished. Kitagawa was swinging off the railings by one hand. Douno threw the top half of his body over the rails and grabbed Kitagawa’s right wrist just moments before his fingers let go. He instantly felt the weight of a whole other person pull down on right hand. The man was heavy.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa, can you grab something with your left hand?”<br />
<p>The man was too heavy to pull up. Although Kitagawa tried his best, he was unable to grasp the rails.<br />
<p>“Mariko, get somebody!”<br />
<p>Mariko stood unmoving with a pale face.<br />
<p>“Hurry!” he yelled. “Just bring someone!”<br />
<p>Douno’s right hand was growing numb. He would not be able to support several dozen kilograms worth of this man’s weight with one hand for long. To make things worse, the wind was making Kitagawa’s body sway back and forth.<br />
<p>He saw the dark water of the river below Kitagawa. Even his left hand began to grow numb from holding onto the railing, and Douno wondered if this was the end.<br />
<p><i>Hurry, somebody, please.</i> As Douno gritted his teeth in desperation, he heard a voice.<br />
<p>“Let go of my hand, or you’ll end up falling, too.”<br />
<p>There was no hint of fear in Kitagawa’s face as he swayed below him.<br />
<p>“N―No!” Douno said fiercely.<br />
<p>“You’re gonna have a kid, right? That means your house’ll be warm again.”<br />
<p>Douno knew more than anyone else that even if the child were born, their household would not become the warm and welcoming home it had once been.<br />
<p>“I’m glad you were the last one to be with me.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa exhaled.<br />
<p>“I’m glad I met you.”<br />
<p>With those words, Kitagawa twisted his right wrist out of Douno’s grasp. He had already been barely able to endure the weight―Kitagawa’s twisting motion made him almost let go.<br />
<p>Douno did not want to let go of the hand he had caught. He did not want the man to go to the other side alone, just because of this.<br />
<p><i>If you’ll be happy with me, I’ll stay by your side.</i> With that thought, he released his left hand from the rails. Suddenly, he felt lighter. They began falling as if they were being sucked in, and in that short moment, Douno remembered Kitagawa looking at him with an expression of disbelief.<br />
<p>In the few seconds until he felt the impact of the water, Douno remembered he had never said “I love you” to Kitagawa. He regretted it, but it was too late.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p><i>Takafumi, Takafumi</i>, a voice called, shaking him persistently. When he opened his eyes a crack, he was gathered up in a suffocating embrace.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa...”<br />
<p>He was hugged so tightly it hurt. Beyond the man’s shoulders, Douno could see the bridge in the distance. They had fallen, but not died. Relief washed over him, and at the same time, took all the strength out of his body.<br />
<p>He was soaked, but he was alive. He was definitely alive.<br />
<p>“You weren’t moving. I dragged you all the way here.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s voice was trembling.<br />
<p>“I thought you were dead. I wondered why you had to die without me. I thought maybe I wasn’t even allowed to die with you because of what I did.”<br />
<p>Douno held the man’s trembling head close.<br />
<p>“I love you.”<br />
<p>The man’s back shook.<br />
<p>“I love you. So I want to be with you.”<br />
<p>“But there’s a baby coming, right? Your wife said so. That’s why she told me to go somewhere far away.”<br />
<p>“But I want you. You’re like a kid yourself, anyway, so if I had to choose one or the other, I’d take you.”<br />
<p>“But my house isn’t warm like yours. It’s old, and it’s not clean.”<br />
<p>“I still want to live in your house.”<br />
<p>Douno looked directly at Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“You’re the one I want.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa cried without restraint. He cried like a child. Douno held him tight, and told him over and over that he loved him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The bridge was high up, but not high enough to die from falling off. Douno had apparently lost consciousness from shock, and if Kitagawa hadn’t been there, he would probably have drowned.<br />
<p>When Douno had talked to Mariko about separating, she had been unable accept that Kitagawa was the person in Douno’s life. That was why she had called him out and told him to leave them alone because their child was on the way. Kitagawa had remained silent, neither saying he was staying or leaving. Then, Mariko had pointed at the water below, saying she had spotted something. As Kitagawa drew close to the railings to peer over it, she had pushed him from behind.<br />
<p>If Kitagawa had been hurt from Mariko’s act, she would have been criminally charged with causing bodily injury. However, Mariko appeared to regret her impulse, and Douno also bowed his head to Kitagawa and begged him to forgive her.<br />
<p>“Doesn’t matter,” Kitagawa had mumbled.<br />
<p>Douno discussed matters with Mariko on the premise that they were getting divorced. However, the situation was slow to progress, and it took about a year until their divorce was finalized.<br />
<p>Douno moved in to stay at Kitagawa’s house before their divorce was made official on paper. Frankly, he felt suffocated living with Mariko. Ever since then, his wife had starting cooking complicated dishes and had become excessively affectionate to him as if to assert her presence. It all seemed like a lie to Douno, and he could not bring himself to thank her from his heart. He preferred eating takeout meals with Kitagawa, rather than eating Mariko’s delicious cooking while constantly feeling a sense that something was not right.<br />
<p>When Douno began to stay with Kitagawa, he told the man truthfully that he had not divorced his wife yet, and that their discussion was going to take time. Kitagawa never asked once what was happening with Douno and his wife.<br />
<p>Mariko’s belly swelled as talks of their divorce wore on. Mariko’s parents saw this and came to him once, asking him if he would reconsider. Douno refused to change his mind.<br />
<p>Mariko gave birth to the child with the unknown father. Douno did not see the baby’s face, but he did get news that it was a boy. After giving birth to the baby, Mariko began saying that she would not stamp the divorce papers unless Douno formally acknowledged the child as his own. This made Douno certain that the child had been the other man’s.<br />
<p>Douno acknowledged the child as his own, and in return, he received his stamped divorce papers. It was the end of July. Douno took the stamped papers which his wife had mailed over and went to submit them to city hall during his lunch break.<br />
<p>Douno returned to Kitagawa’s house that night, newly single, and he thought of telling the man that their divorce was now official. But he figured it would be awkward to say, “I got divorced” suddenly, but the more he tried to find the right timing, the more he began to think it did not really matter. It was just a piece of paper, after all.<br />
<p>“Hey.”<br />
<p>Douno was watching TV in the living room, fresh out of a shower, when Kitagawa called to him from the porch.<br />
<p>“Wanna eat some pears?”<br />
<p>“Oh, sure.”<br />
<p>Douno sat down beside Kitagawa. He plucked a slice of neatly-peeled pear and brought it to his lips. It was crisp, sweet, and delicious.<br />
<p>“So,” Kitagawa began. Douno was just in the middle of scratching what felt like a mosquito bite on his neck.<br />
<p>“Someone abandoned a dog near our site. If it’s still there tomorrow, can I bring it home?”<br />
<p>“Sure.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa did not look this way, but he hunched his shoulders happily.<br />
<p>“You don’t have to ask me for permission,” Douno said. “This is your house. You should bring it home if you want to.”<br />
<p>“Well, yeah. But I wanted to talk to you about it.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa took Douno’s right hand and brought it to his lips. His fingertips were sweet from eating the pear, and Kitagawa lapped at them like a dog.<br />
<p>“There’s something red on your neck.”<br />
<p>Douno touched it. “I think I got bitten.”<br />
<p>“Want me to suck it out?”<br />
<p>Without even waiting for an answer, Kitagawa pressed his lips against Douno’s neck. He bit down lightly, then sucked. Douno felt his skin begin to tingle, and he could no longer tell if it came from pleasure or itchiness. <br />
<p>Pleasure won out, and Douno’s face flushed deep red. Kitagawa looked at him and laughed.<br />
<p>“My dream’s gonna come true.”<br />
<p>“Dream...?”<br />
<p>“I have a house, you’re here with me, and I get to have a dog. It’s just like I’ve been dreaming about.”<br />
<p>His modest dream―such a small, child-like dream―pulled painfully at Douno’s heartstrings. He kissed the man on the lips.<br />
<p>“I’m officially divorced starting today,” he told the man nose-to-nose.<br />
<p>“...Mm-hmm, and?”<br />
<p>He was right. Maybe it was insignificant enough to be brushed away with an “mm-hmm”. <i>Maybe I was the only one hung up about this.</i> Douno smiled wryly, and reached out to stroke the man’s sun-baked temple.<br />
<p>“And nothing,” he murmured.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>-- END OF VOLUME --</center><br />
Read the short story <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/08/narise-konohara-in-box-and-then.html">And then....</a>.<br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-37119874630317921522013-07-21T22:40:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.414-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 13("Out of the Cage" Part 3)<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/07/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-12.html">PART 12</a>.<br />
<br />
<p>After that, Kashiwai continued to question Douno on every little detail about himself, but thanks to his mild tone of speech, it did not get on Douno’s nerves. Last time he had been arrested, he had felt sick to the stomach at the investigating detective’s arrogant attitude, not to mention the interrogation, which had practically been a blackmailing session. At the time, Douno had vowed never to get involved with the police again, but now he wondered if the police were kind to him because he was the victim this time.<br />
<p>His conversation with Kashiwai finished past four in the afternoon. The police had begun to sweep the river-bottom earlier on, but nothing had turned up by evening. Douno was quite frankly relieved.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Douno and Mariko stayed at home and waited expectantly for any news. Kashiwai came by again at eight in the evening to tell them that interviews with the nearby residents had yielded a witness. It was the first piece of concrete information they had since Honoka had gone missing.<br />
<p>Kashiwai repeatedly wiped his forehead with his handkerchief even though it was not hot out.<br />
<p>“The thing is, the witness is a child in second grade. Children’s eye-witness statements change every time you ask them differently, so I think we should take it with a grain of salt. Anyway, according to this child, Honoka was apparently seen walking eastward down the road in front of this building at around one-thirty yesterday, holding hands with a tall man wearing a dark hat.”<br />
<p>The first person Douno thought of when he heard “tall man” was Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“But to a second-grader, every adult is tall,” Kashiwai continued. “We don’t have an exact measurement of his height, but now we can say there’s a strong suspicion of a kidnapping. I’ve just finished discussing this with my senior colleagues, and we think it’s a good idea to take the leap and make this search public, if even just to put the kidnapper in the hot seat.”<br />
<p>Mariko showed no signs of breaking down as she sat beside Douno on the sofa. She only chewed her lip and listened to the detective speak.<br />
<p>“There’s a risk that we might agitate the kidnapper, but by making this search public, we eliminate the option for him to take Honoka out anywhere. If the kidnapper has done this for some unsavoury motive, this is when he’s most likely to release the victim. We think we have a better chance of rescuing your daughter this way, rather than just sitting and waiting. However―” Kashiwai went on, “as I said, there’s a risk we may agitate the kidnapper and drive him to do something impulsive. But since the victim is a four-year-old child, when we do rescue her, it would be difficult to make a composite sketch or have her match photographs from her memory. If the kidnapper knows he’s in no danger of being traced even after returning the child to her parents, I’m sure he won’t choose to silence her forever.”<br />
<p>Mariko, who had been silent until then, murmured quietly.<br />
<p>“The kidnapper is a tall man?”<br />
<p>Kashiwai twitched his right eyebrow.<br />
<p>“Ma’am, do you have an idea of who it might be?”<br />
<p>Mariko threw a glance Douno’s way. He sensed what his wife was implying, but he swiftly denied himself. It could not be Kitagawa. A man who had been so affectionate towards Honoka would never kidnap her.<br />
<p>“But he’s my husband’s friend and he’s been very good to Honoka.” Mariko modestly but firmly informed Kashiwai of Kitagawa’s existence.<br />
<p>“Mariko, stop it,” Douno said sharply. Mariko flinched at his stern tone. “Kitagawa is the last person who would do that,” Douno said.<br />
<p>“I―It’s not like I think Mr. Kitagawa kidnapped her,” Mariko said. “I don’t <i>want</i> to think he has. But I keep thinking about why he didn’t come over yesterday out of all days.”<br />
<p>“Alright, alright,” Kashiwai intervened. He flipped through the pages of the notebook he had been writing in.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa is the friend who dropped by earlier today, am I right? I got a glimpse of him, and you’re right, he certainly is tall. But that’s not the only reason you think it might be him, is it?” Kashiwai leaned in towards Mariko.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa always used to keep our daughter company on Sunday afternoons. But he didn’t come that day.”<br />
<p>“I see,” Kashiwai nodded. “Every week on Sunday, did you say?”<br />
<p>“Lately, every week, yes,” Mariko answered.<br />
<p>“Hmm,” said Kashiwai, rubbing his chin. “So a grown adult like him, playing with a such a young child as yours? He must really love children.”<br />
<p>There was an unpleasant ring to his last sentence.<br />
<p>“Honey,” Mariko grasped Douno’s arm. “Since we’ve come this far already, why don’t we let them investigate thoroughly? If they find out it’s not him, it would be a relief to both of us. Don’t you think so?”<br />
<p>Douno shook his head.<br />
<p>“Investigating him means we’re suspicious of him. Don’t you think that’s an insult to Kitagawa at all? He even took a whole day off of work to spend it looking for Honoka. I don’t want to stab my own friend in the back.”<br />
<p>“Then can you prove that Mr. Kitagawa definitely didn’t do it?” Mariko argued. “I understand you want to believe in him, but it bothers me. I’m not convinced, and I hate thinking that it might be him. That’s why I want to get rid of those uncertainties early on.”<br />
<p>In the end, Kashiwai said he would talk to Kitagawa once about it. Douno and Mariko’s argument about whether they would have Kitagawa interviewed or not left an awkward air lingering between them even after Kashiwai left. In the end, Douno could not bring himself to forgive Mariko for stubbornly insisting on having Kitagawa questioned.<br />
<p>He admitted he too had imagined Kitagawa when he was told that the kidnapper was a tall man with whom Honoka was friendly enough to hold hands and walk. <i>Maybe it is him</i>―the thought had indeed crossed his mind. But Douno felt he owed Kitagawa his trust―that was integrity.<br />
<p>At eleven at night, Honoka’s disappearance was broadcast on the news with their real names for the first time. Douno and Mariko watched it together in the living room.<br />
<p>“Yesterday at around two in the afternoon, a little girl was reported missing. Honoka Douno, aged four, is the eldest daughter of Mr. Takafumi Douno, an office worker from ― City, ― Prefecture. The police suspect this is a case of an abduction of a minor...”<br />
<p>Honoka’s name came up in the subtitles, and the newscaster read it aloud. Until now, Douno had watched countless similar newscasts of abducted children. As a parent himself, they had made him feel afraid and conscious about his own child’s safety. However, in the end they were always the “unlucky kids”―he had never quite been able to feel the reality in them.<br />
<p>As soon as the news of Honoka began airing, their home phone and cell phones began ringing at once. Relatives and friends were calling, concerned about Honoka’s safety. Douno saw it coming, since Kashiwai had informed them beforehand that they would be bombarded with calls once the news aired on TV.<br />
<p>“I’m sure Honoka is alright. Be strong, both of you.” Each person said the same typical words of consolation. Each time, Douno thanked them and hung up the phone. He was careful to be polite, since they were calling out of the goodwill of their hearts. He was grateful for their concern, but he and Mariko had hardly slept these past few days. Douno only wished they could be left alone.<br />
<p>The phone rang incessantly for an hour, and finally past midnight, the calls began to die off. Mariko looked utterly exhausted from her own worries coupled with the burden of taking phone calls. Douno encouraged her to sleep in bed.<br />
<p>Mariko insisted she was not tired, but Douno managed to push her between the sheets anyway. He then put his cell phone and the cordless handset on the table so that he was prepared to receive any calls from the police or acquaintances, and lay down on the sofa in the living room.<br />
<p>Douno’s lack of sleep these past few days caught up to him, and he lost consciousness once the clock struck three o’clock in the morning. In the early hours, at around five-thirty, he woke up to his cell phone ringing.<br />
<p>Douno had been dreaming right up until then. It was a dream that Honoka had been found on the jungle gym in the park. Wondering why they had been unable to find her all this time, he had hugged Honoka firmly to his chest and gone around to thank and apologize to every single neighbour he had caused trouble to, and to each person who had helped him search for his daughter.<br />
<p>“Mr. Takafumi Douno? This is Kashiwai from the Seinan Division,” Kashiwai said over the phone.<br />
<p>“Good morning,” Douno answered. “Thank you for your hard work this early in the morning. Have you gotten any news on Honoka?”<br />
<p>For some reason, there was a short pause on the other end before Kashiwai answered.<br />
<p>“I wish I didn’t have to break this to you, but...” The detective’s voice dropped a level. Douno had a foreboding feeling. He swallowed hard.<br />
<p>“What is it?”<br />
<p>“This morning at around four-thirty, the body of a young girl was found near the mouth of Minanogawa River. Upon comparing her physical features with photos of her face, we think it may be Honoka Douno. We would like both of you to confirm her identity.”<br />
<p>Douno heard all the blood in his body rush to his feet.<br />
<p>“Would you be able to come to the address I’m about to give you?”<br />
<p>“Oh, but―” His hand shook as he held his cell phone. “It just happened to be a little girl, and you’re not definitely sure about whether she's Honoka, right?”<br />
<p>“Well, yes, but...”<br />
<p>“I’ll head over right away. The place?” Douno wrote it down, and hung up his cell phone. Just then, Mariko’s voice spoke from behind him.<br />
<p>“Hey.”<br />
<p>Douno spun around in surprise.<br />
<p>“Who was that from?”<br />
<p>Douno was unsure of whether he should tell his exhausted wife what he had just heard. But either way, he would have to explain why he was going out. He could not hide it from her.<br />
<p>“It was from the detective.”<br />
<p>Mariko’s face lit up. “Has Honoka been found?” She rushed over to him and clung to his arm. “So, has she? Has she?” Douno shook his head.<br />
<p>“They found a little girl’s body. He asked me to come and confirm if it’s Honoka.”<br />
<p>Mariko turned white as a sheet and cried shrilly as she fell to her knees.<br />
<p>“We don’t know if it’s Honoka for sure yet,” Douno said. “That’s why we have to go and make sure.”<br />
<p>Mariko clamped her hands over her ears and shook her head vehemently.<br />
<p>“No! I won’t go. I won’t go, no matter what.”<br />
<p>“I don’t think it’s Honoka, either. But I’m going just in case. You can stay here.”<br />
<p>Douno left his wife and began to prepare to go out. Right when he was about to leave, Mariko stopped him.<br />
<p>“Wait,” she said. “―I’ll go, too.”<br />
<p>Without even bothering to put on makeup, Mariko draped a coat over her shoulders and climbed into the passenger seat. While they drove to the hospital according to Kashiwai’s directions, Mariko sat trembling in her seat with both hands clasped tightly together.<br />
<p>When they arrived at the hospital’s after-hours reception desk, Kashiwai and another young detective were waiting. A man who looked like a clerk then led them down the hall and to a desolate-looking place.<br />
<p>It was a barren room. Even the lights did not change its cold atmosphere. A small cot was placed in the centre of the room, and a white sheet was draped over it. Ushered by Kashiwai, Douno approached the small lump beneath the sheet.<br />
<p>“If I could ask you to confirm her identity, please...”<br />
<p>Before Douno could even brace himself, the cloth over the face was pulled away.<br />
<p>Her pale cheeks and drained purple lips were not features of any living human. The girl’s eyes were closed and she almost looked as if she were sleeping. She looked a lot like Honoka.<br />
<p>“Is she your daughter?” Douno was asked.<br />
<p>“It looks like her. But I can’t say for sure.” Douno told the truth. Kashiwai scratched the back of his head.<br />
<p>“Did your daughter have any distinguishing traits? Like a mole, or a bruise anywhere on her body...”<br />
<p>Mariko, who had been behind Douno this whole time, came quietly forward. She slowly and cautiously stepped closer to the body. She stared intently at her child’s ashen face, then suddenly flung her arms around the body and burst into tears.<br />
<p>“Ma’am, is she your daughter?”<br />
<p>Mariko did not answer. In this lonely room, only his wife’s sobbing echoed painfully.<br />
<p>“Honoka, Honoka.”<br />
<p>Mariko stroked the wet hair on her small head over and over.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry, Honoka. I’m sorry we couldn’t find you sooner. I’m sorry...”<br />
<p>The detective turned to Douno. “This is your daughter, then, am I correct?” he said gravely. <br />
<p>Douno did not want to admit that the body before him was Honoka. He wanted to think that it was just a very similar-looking stranger, and that his own Honoka was still alive. Only two days ago, she had been scurrying about, bursting with energy. She was a strong girl who had never suffered any serious illnesses.<br />
<p>“―Once your wife calms down, we’d like to send the body out for an autopsy,” Kashiwai said quietly beside Douno.<br />
<p>“You mean... you’re going to cut her up?”<br />
<p>Kashiwai sighed apologetically.<br />
<p>“It’s the rules to perform autopsies on bodies that have died unnaturally. But by performing an autopsy, we can find the cause and time of death. It’ll give us important clues as to who her killer might be.”<br />
<p>Mariko was still clinging to the small body. Douno put his arm around his wife’s thin shoulders and drew her away from the body.<br />
<p>Mariko trembled violently as she shook her head.<br />
<p>“N―No! I’m going to take her home right away!” she sobbed. “What do you need to investigate her for? She’s dead! What more are you going to put her through?”<br />
<p>“But they need to investigate her, or else Honoka can’t come home.”<br />
<p>“No! No!”<br />
<p>“Mariko!” Douno called his wife’s name loudly. Mariko, who had been screaming and clawing at her hair, stopped and looked fearfully up at him.<br />
<p>“Let’s wait outside. We’ll be able to take Honoka home soon. Come on...”<br />
<p>Douno put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and led her out into the hallway. They were taken by the clerk to a small waiting room near the after-hours reception and told to wait there until it was “all over”.<br />
<p>Mariko staggered on unsteady feet and collapsed onto the sofa.<br />
<p>“Her cheeks... they were cold,” she whispered shakily while she gazed at her fingers. “Like ice. So cold...”<br />
<p>Douno put his arms around Mariko as she broke down into tears. He closed his own eyes as tears welled up in them. Why did Honoka―why did his own daughter have to go through this? Had it been painful when she died? Had she suffered? He wished he could have taken her place if he could.<br />
<p>“Mr. Douno.” <br />
<p>Douno looked up as his name was called. Kashiwai was peering in from the entrance to the waiting room.<br />
<p>“I was wondering if you could spare some time to talk... is that alright?”<br />
<p>Douno rubbed his tearful eyes with a rough hand.<br />
<p>“But I’ll be leaving my wife by herself.”<br />
<p>“Ah, that’s right,” Kashiwai murmured. “Hey, you stay with the madam,” he said to the young officer beside him. He left the officer in the waiting room and took Douno out to the hallway.<br />
<p>“It’s about the killer,” Kashiwai began as they stood in a corner of the dark hallway.<br />
<p>“Have you caught him?” Douno sniffled as he spoke.<br />
<p>“I wouldn’t say caught, but we have strong suspicions that it’s a man we’ve been questioning as a material witness.”<br />
<p>“What kind of person is he?”<br />
<p>“He’s someone you know, Mr. Douno,” Kashiwai answered. <i>No―</i>Douno thought. <i>It can’t be―</i><br />
<p>“Are you saying Kitagawa’s under suspicion?”<br />
<p>The detective nodded.<br />
<p>“Are you sure you’re not mistaken? He could never be the killer, it’s just impossible. He was very affectionate to Honoka―” <br />
<p>“The man has several suspicious points. According to your wife, he used to come over to your house every Sunday without fail, but the one day Honoka got kidnapped, he failed to show up. The man himself says he’d been drinking until morning, and was asleep since getting home around nine in the morning that day. Yes, he has an alibi right up to when he parted ways with his fellow workers in the morning, but there’s nothing to prove he was actually asleep afterwards except for his own testimony. He doesn’t have an alibi.”<br />
<p>“But logically, wouldn’t it be difficult to prove that you were sleeping?”<br />
<p>“Yes, but you see,” Kashiwai continued. “On the day of the disappearance, your wife called Kitagawa’s house once past five in the evening. But he didn’t pick up. He says he was sleeping so soundly he didn’t hear the phone, but isn’t it possible that he couldn’t pick up because he wasn’t there?”<br />
<p>Douno remembered that Kitagawa had also not picked up when he called that day. <br />
<p>“And additionally, we’ve also had the primary-school student come in, the one who witnessed Honoka walking with a tall man. We had him look at Kitagawa through a one-way mirror. The child testified that Kitagawa looked ‘a lot like’ the man walking with Honoka.”<br />
<p>“Yes, but―!” Douno clenched his fists. “When Honoka disappeared, he was the first to volunteer to help look for her. He even took time off work.”<br />
<p>Kashiwai shook his head slowly.<br />
<p>“Have you considered that it might all be a performance to disguise the fact that he did it?”<br />
<p>Douno’s eyes widened in shock. His clenched fists trembled. <br />
<p>“But he has no reason to kidnap and kill Honoka.”<br />
<p>“From what your wife has told us, Kitagawa seems to be very nice to children.”<br />
<p>“Yes. Honoka also liked him very much.”<br />
<p>“Sure, he may have simply liked being with children, but can you rule out the possibility that he may have had unsavoury impulses?”<br />
<p>“But Kitagawa of all people―”<br />
<p>Kashiwai scratched his balding head. <br />
<p>“This is incredibly difficult to say to you, as you are the father, but we think Kitagawa’s unsavoury objectives are at the root of his crime and this case.”<br />
<p>Douno felt ill. It was more sickening to know that his own child had been seen in that way than to hear Kashiwai suggest that Kitagawa was responsible.<br />
<p>“There’s also the possibility of lust murder. He has a former criminal record for that, and―”<br />
<p>“His record doesn’t matter!” Douno found himself snapping, with a voice loud enough to startle Kashiwai. “It has nothing to do with it. Kitagawa’s served his sentence properly. Besides, if he’d been investigated properly earlier on, right after he’d been arrested, it might’ve turned out that he didn’t kill anyone at all. That’s how it could have turned out.” Douno was out of breath after his outburst.<br />
<p>“No one knows him better than me.” Douno placed his right hand over his chest. Kashiwai looked curiously troubled at Douno’s earnest plea.<br />
<p>“I can see how you don’t want to admit that he’s done it because you know him, but it is true that Kitagawa is a suspect. He has no alibi, he has an eye-witness statement against him, and a criminal record of murder. We’re not pulling things out of thin air here.”<br />
<p>Douno chewed his lip.<br />
<p>“You can say he didn’t do it because you know him, but if our evidence becomes concrete enough to suspect him, we <i>will</i> arrest Kitagawa. That’s the law.”<br />
<p>Crushed by the detective’s words and by the truth, Douno returned to the waiting room. He drew his wife close as she continued to cry. Douno was also sad, but even more than that, he felt uncontrollably angry.<br />
<p>Why would Kitagawa kill a child whom he had seriously talked of marrying? How could he ever? <br />
<p><i>Why won’t they believe me?</i> Douno thought. Was it because Kitagawa did not have an alibi? Because he had a criminal record? Did the police think they could conveniently draw up Kitagawa as the killer?<br />
<p><i>Kitagawa didn’t do it. He definitely didn’t do it.</i> But in a corner of Douno’s heart there was still a tiny black stain―the black stain of “maybe”.<br />
<p>Douno refused to think of anything anymore.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>They decided to take Honoka’s body home once. It was ten in the morning by the time they returned to the apartment. The sky, heedless of the grieving family, was a clear, cloudless blue.<br />
<p>They tucked Honoka into her child-size futon, just like they used to when she was alive. Douno and Mariko knelt on either side of the futon without a word.<br />
<p>“Who put Honoka through all of this?” Mariko murmured softly. Her words stabbed Douno’s heart. “She was only four. Just four years old. What did she ever do wrong? Why did it have to be her?”<br />
<p>Mariko dissolved into tears over the tiny body. Douno was not sure whether he should tell her that Kitagawa was a suspect.<br />
<p>Mariko was suspicious of Kitagawa, but probably did not wish him to be the killer. When Douno thought of the despair of being betrayed by a trusted person, he felt it better not to tell his wife, who was already barely coping with her daughter’s death. <br />
<p>He wondered what he could do instead, and realized he would have to tell his parents. Then, he would have to plan the funeral―<br />
<p>His own daughter was dead, yet Douno felt like he was almost too calm. Perhaps it was out of a sense of duty to be strong for his wife because she was crying.<br />
<p>“Let’s call our parents.”<br />
<p>Mariko lifted her face.<br />
<p>“And then we have to arrange the funeral.”<br />
<p>“Don’t say that word!” Mariko covered her ears and put her head down. “I don’t want to hear any of it!”<br />
<p>Douno could not blame his wife for not wanting to accept reality. But neither could they sit here and do nothing.<br />
<p>Douno called both of their parents, who had been worried ever since finding out Honoka had gone missing. After telling them that she’d been found dead, neither Douno nor his and Mariko’s parents had any words to say.<br />
<p>After giving their parents the news, Douno contacted a nearby funeral home. Once he had completed all of the procedures, he glanced at the clock and realized it was already four in the afternoon.<br />
<p>The house phone rang suddenly. He picked it up. It was Douno’s mother.<br />
<p>“I saw on TV―they caught the killer, didn’t they?”<br />
<p>“What?” Douno uttered in disbelief.<br />
<p>“One of our relatives phoned―I heard you know this man?”<br />
<p>Douno did not remember the rest of what they talked about and how their conversation finished. He vaguely recalled his mother mentioning something about coming down here sometime within today.<br />
<p>He hastily went over to the TV and turned it on. He flipped through the channels searching for a news program.<br />
<p>“Two days ago in the afternoon, a kidnapping was reported. The victim was a four-year-old girl, Honoka Douno, daughter of Mr. Takafumi Douno, an officer worker of ― City, ― Prefecture. Honoka was found dead near the mouth of a river about fifteen kilometres away from her home. There was no apparent damage to the body, and the cause of death is thought to be drowning. A man in his thirties, a construction worker living in the neighbourhood who is an acquaintance of Mr. Douno, is thought to be connected to this case and is currently undergoing questioning.”<br />
<p>As Douno sat fixated on the television, he heard his wife call him from behind.<br />
<p>“Hey.”<br />
<p>Douno whipped around.<br />
<p>“Was Mr. Kitagawa the killer?”<br />
<p>“―They don’t know for sure yet.”<br />
<p>“But they just said he might be connected to the case. It’s him, isn’t it?”<br />
<p>His wife grabbed both his arms and shook him roughly. <br />
<p>“Answer me!”<br />
<p>Douno answered without looking at Mariko’s face.<br />
<p>“They told me it’s likely.”<br />
<p>“I knew it,” muttered Mariko. “I knew there was something funny about him from the beginning. He was a bit strange. He never talked to us, but always played with Honoka. I thought he just liked kids, but that was all a show, wasn’t it?”<br />
<p>“No, I really think Kitagawa cared about―”<br />
<p>“Does a man who care about kids kill them?” Mariko shrieked. “What’s wrong with him? We always invited him over to eat. He should be thankful―what reason does he have to hate us? Why did you ever become friends with someone like him?!”<br />
<p>Douno could not bring himself to say they were not old friends, and that they had actually met in prison. <br />
<p>“Answer me, please!” Mariko pressed tearfully to the man unable to respond to her.<br />
<p>Douno and Mariko’s parents both arrived by eight that evening. Douno’s father handled the funeral processes in Douno’s place, as he had no idea how to go about it. <br />
<p>On the nine o’clock news, Kitagawa began to be referred to as “the suspect”, and his real name and picture was released. His criminal record for murder also came to light. Mariko flew off the handle when she heard the fact.<br />
<p>“You knew, didn’t you?” she screamed.<br />
<p>Mariko’s mother held her as she broke down.<br />
<p>“You knew that that man killed someone before. How could you still introduce him to us, knowing what kind of man he was? How could you have let him play with Honoka?”<br />
<p>“He’s atoned for his crime,” Douno protested. “Besides, Kitagawa actually might not have killed―”<br />
<p>“But he did this time, didn’t he?! He killed Honoka!”<br />
<p>Douno could not argue back. He could only bow his head as the blame was piled upon him. Mariko’s parents also shouted at him.<br />
<p>“How could you let your family associate with a murderer?”<br />
<p>Even Douno’s parents bowed their heads to Mariko’s parents, apologizing on behalf of their son.<br />
<p>It was too late now to say that Kitagawa had helped Douno immeasurably while he was in prison. <br />
<p>Rather than be pitied for the death of his child, Douno was blamed by the people around him for being acquainted with an ex-convict, and to have involved his wife and child with the likes of such a man.<br />
<p>Even at the vigil, he could hear voices whispering around him. <i>The man was the husband’s friend.</i> It was unbearable for Douno to hear. He was just as heartbroken from losing his child as Mariko, yet Douno had to be blamed and turned into the scapegoat.<br />
<p>Mariko cried throughout the vigil and the funeral. A television reporter came to the funeral asking Douno to comment, but he was unable to say anything.<br />
<p>Once the funeral was over, everyone disappeared like the receding tide. As soon as things quieted down, Mariko collapsed as if a tense thread had snapped. Douno rushed her to the hospital, where the doctor informed him that it was likely due to mental fatigue.<br />
<p>“―Also, your wife is pregnant,” he added. She was in her second month.<br />
<p>Mariko, who was still unable to accept Honoka’s death, appeared unable to accept the fact that there was another budding life inside her. She remained expressionless at the news, nodding and responding as if it were about someone else.<br />
<p>But Douno was glad that Mariko was pregnant. Before, he had thought it a bad idea financially to have a second child, but after all that had happened, he felt it was better for Mariko to have something to live for. He had been careful with contraception, but he now felt like this timing couldn’t have been better.<br />
<p>Three days after the funeral, Douno went to work for the first time in about a week. Tatsuta, who knew what he was going through, was more attentive than necessary, which made Douno feel even more suffocated.<br />
<p>By the time the day was over, Douno was mentally weary. At seven in the evening, he had returned home and was parking his car in the lot when he saw a familiar face approaching him from across the street. It was the detective, Kashiwai, who had handled Honoka’s case.<br />
<p>“Hello.” Kashiwai ducked his head.<br />
<p>“Thank you for everything.” Douno bowed his head as well.<br />
<p>“There’s actually been a new witness statement concerning Honoka’s case, and I’d like to ask you two or three things about it.”<br />
<p>Douno wondered whether he should bring Kashiwai to his house or not. Mariko had finally calmed down. If they talked about Honoka in front of her and she broke down, she could harm her pregnant body.<br />
<p>“Um―well, my wife has only just started to return to normal. Is it alright if we talk here?”<br />
<p>“Oh, of course,” Kashiwai answered. Douno ended up talking to Kashiwai in his car. <br />
<p>“I’m sure you know that the police have arrested Kitagawa as a suspect. He had no alibi during the time he abducted Honoka, and also during her estimated time of death at four o’clock in the evening. There’s also the witness statement from the primary-school student. The man himself denies it, but no matter.”<br />
<p>“He’s saying he didn’t do it?”<br />
<p>“Well,” Kashiwai tilted his head, “since there was an eye-witness statement, we moved ahead with the arrest. But as of two days ago, we’ve had gotten a new witness account.”<br />
<p>“A new one?”<br />
<p>“We had a phone call from a middle school student. He’s told us he saw someone standing at Gancho Bridge on the day of the incident.”<br />
<p>The media had aired Honoka’s death as due to drowning from being pushed off a bridge. Gancho Bridge was the nearest bridge to the river-mouth where Honoka had been found.<br />
<p>“He was about to cross the bridge on the way home from his club activities when he saw a tall woman in dark clothes looking below the bridge and smiling. He remembered it because of how disturbing it was.”<br />
<p>“Woman?” Douno repeated.<br />
<p>“The student’s parents called the police two days ago, saying it bothered them. There were numerous other points of note, so we’re still investigating.”<br />
<p>“So does that mean that Kitagawa might not be the killer?”<br />
<p>“We don’t know,” Kashiwai said. “We still think it is, but you can never be too certain.”<br />
<p>Kashiwai rubbed the top of his nose.<br />
<p>“So... it seems your wife quit her part-time job―the month before last, was it? Have you heard from her why she quit?”<br />
<p>“She said she didn’t get along with her co-workers.”<br />
<p>Kashiwai listened to Douno talk about his wife, then left without asking anything more. After the man had gone, Douno sat alone in his car and thought. Once the police decided on a possible perpetrator, they looked for evidence to prove that he was it. Either that, or they fabricated it. But if the police were still investigating even after catching the suspect, it was likely that the killer was another person.<br />
<p>Douno leaned his forehead against the steering wheel. Kitagawa may not be the killer after all―that fact alone was enough to make Douno’s heart feel lighter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Four days after Douno returned to work, he got a call from Kashiwai again. Douno was still at work when his cell phone rang, and he scrambled hastily into the hallway to answer it.<br />
<p>“We’ve arrested the suspect.” Kashiwai’s voice was brisk and businesslike. “We’d like to talk to you about it. Would you be able to come to the police station with your wife?”<br />
<p>Douno hesitated.<br />
<p>“My wife is pregnant and in delicate condition. Would I be able to go alone instead?”<br />
<p>“Your wife is also involved in this case, and we’d also like to confirm two or three things with her. I’m sorry for the trouble, but we’d like the both of you to come.”<br />
<p>Douno could tell from Kashiwai’s tone that he was not going to budge. He gave in and took Mariko to the police station with him. <br />
<p>“Why do we have to go to the police again?” Mariko asked. Douno decided against telling her everything at once, and only told her that the real killer had been found.<br />
<p>“Isn’t the killer that man?”<br />
<p>“The detective will tell us the details. I don’t know them myself.”<br />
<p>Mariko wore a dubious expression in the car throughout the journey. When they arrived at the police station and gave the reception Kashiwai’s name, they were shown into a small room. Douno and his wife sat down beside each other.<br />
<p>“I’ve already spoken a little to your husband about it, but we’ve arrested the suspect who is responsible for murdering Honoka.”<br />
<p>Mariko’s lips were pursed stiffly as she clasped Douno’s hand.<br />
<p>“It wasn’t Kitagawa?”<br />
<p>Kashiwai shook his head.<br />
<p>“The suspect’s name is Eri Taguchi. Do you know of her?”<br />
<p>Douno shook his head, but Mariko suddenly turned pale.<br />
<p>“Mariko, do you know her?” Douno asked her, but Mariko shook her head in a way that neither affirmed nor denied knowledge. <br />
<p>“Eri Taguchi is the wife of Hiroyuki Taguchi, the manager of Sun Supermarket, where your wife used to work. She was apparently a former model, close to 180 centimetres in height. Her hair is short. With a black hat on, a grade school student could easily mistake her for a man.”<br />
<p>“You weren’t getting along with the manager’s wife as well?”<br />
<p>Mariko bowed her head and covered her ears with her hands.<br />
<p>“You haven’t heard anything, have you, sir?”<br />
<p>Douno still could not perceive what lay behind the knowing words between Kashiwai and his wife.<br />
<p>“Your wife and the manager of Sun Supermarket, Hiroyuki Taguchi, have been in an extramarital relationship for two years. This is clear from witness statements from other employees. Your wife quit her job because rumours of their relationship were starting to circulate―am I right, ma’am?”<br />
<p>Douno froze with his eyes wide open. His mind could not keep up with such an unexpected turn of events. He managed to jerk his head toward his wife and ask her, “Is that true?”<br />
<p>There was no answer.<br />
<p>“Eri Taguchi has testified to feeling hatred towards your wife for being her husband’s extramarital partner, and has testified to killing Honoka to teach your wife a lesson.”<br />
<p>Mariko’s face was white as she trembled violently.<br />
<p>“The Taguchi couple doesn’t have children. They’ve been getting fertilization treatment for close to ten years now. When Eri Taguchi found out her husband was having an affair with a young woman, she confessed the anger got to her head.”<br />
<p>Douno’s wife burst into tears beside him. He could hear her sobbing. Douno looked down at his own fingers, white from clenching his fists.<br />
<p>His wife had said at every spare moment that she loved him. She had called him a kind husband. She had said she was happy. If she was satisfied with her life now, why had she carried on an affair for two years?<br />
<p>Douno could not understand the woman crying beside him anymore. He could not even fathom what his wife was crying about.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>When they returned to their apartment, Mariko shut herself up in the bedroom. Douno sat in the living room drinking liquor while sorting out the facts in his head. Mariko had had an affair with her boss at work. The man’s wife had found out. Consumed by wrath, the wife had killed innocent Honoka.<br />
<p>Douno wondered who was to blame. Was it his wife, who had betrayed him and continued an affair for two years? Was it Douno himself, who failed to realize he was being cheated on for two years?<br />
<p>In retrospect, there were numerous clues of an affair. The necklace he did not recognize―perhaps that was a present from her lover. When he had pointed out the red mark on Mariko’s neck the night she had gone out for dinner with a friend, Mariko had panicked. Perhaps that was a sexual mark. And the phone, which had always been conveniently hung up just as he came home...<br />
<p>Should he have been more cautious? His own wife, who had not made a single complaint about his low salary―Douno had thought she would be the last person to have an affair.<br />
<p><i>I’ve been betrayed.</i> The thought refused to leave him. He had tried to protect his family, but he had been betrayed. Douno drained the liquor in one draught. Did all this happen because of his inadequacy? Was the other man more attractive than him?<br />
<p>Douno cradled his head. He was angry, hurt, and sad. He thought and thought some more, and a possibility arose in his head. He headed to the bedroom, where his wife was.<br />
<p>Mariko was curled up in a corner of the room like a child.<br />
<p>“Mariko.”<br />
<p>His wife lifted her tearful face. Douno kept about a metre’s distance as he stood across from her.<br />
<p>“Um―” The next words were stuck in his mouth. It was humiliating to even have to vocalize them. “Did you love him?”<br />
<p>There was no answer from Mariko.<br />
<p>“If you really loved him, you should have told me you wanted to end our relationship. Sometimes people fall in love after they get married. Sometimes, you just feel that way and... there’s nothing you can do about it.”<br />
<p>Mariko shook her head.<br />
<p>“I didn’t love him that much,” came her answer in a thin, quiet voice. “I love you more. You probably won’t believe me, though.”<br />
<p>It was beyond Douno’s understanding. If she loved him more, why had she cheated on him? Why had she slept with another man?<br />
<p>“But every day was so dull,” she went on. “I was happy, but every day was the same. When I wondered if I was going to grow old spending every single day like this, I was terrified. That was when he asked me. I’d only seen affairs on drama shows and magazines, and I was surprised these things could actually happen, but... I wasn’t serious.”<br />
<p>“You continued a relationship you weren’t serious about for two years?”<br />
<p>Mariko shook her head. <br />
<p>“At first, it was just for fun. But he got serious about it, and said he’d divorce his wife. I didn’t want anything more to do with it, so I tried to break up with him. But then he threatened to let you know, and by that time it’d already been a year, and I was attached to him, so I just kind of kept...”<br />
<p>Douno bit his lip.<br />
<p>“You ended up hurting his wife and me as a result of what you did ‘for fun’.”<br />
<p>“I never knew,” Mariko mumbled.<br />
<p>“You know having a relationship with a married person would end up hurting <i>someone</i>, don’t you? You’re not a child anymore.”<br />
<p>As Douno scolded his wife, he wondered whether she had always been this kind of selfish woman. To him, she had always been an observant, responsible person who cared about others.<br />
<p>“You’re angry at me, aren’t you?” Mariko glared at Douno. “Honoka was murdered because I cheated on you. It’s all my fault, isn’t it? You didn’t do anything wrong.”<br />
<p>“Mariko...”<br />
<p>“I’m suffering, too,” she said shrilly. “Don’t look at me like it’s all my fault! I <i>know</i> it’s bad to have an affair. If I knew my daughter was going to be killed, I would never have cheated in the first place. But is it <i>all</i> my fault? Does everyone who cheat have their child killed? No! His wife just happened to be jealous and disturbed in the head, and that’s how it ended up like this!”<br />
<p>Mariko banged her fists on the floor.<br />
<p>“Why do I have to be the one to go through all of this? My child was murdered―I’ve lost my daughter! Why do I have to be blamed by everyone?”<br />
<p>Douno could not think of any consoling words to say to her. Her selfishness exasperated and saddened him. Every human had weaknesses―he knew that. He knew, but...<br />
<p>A horrifying thought crossed Douno’s mind as he looked down at his wife. She had been cheating all this time. There was a possibility that―no, of all things, she would never―but once the seed of suspicion was planted, it was impossible to erase no matter how hard he tried.<br />
<p>“That baby in your stomach... is it really mine?”<br />
<p>Mariko’s shoulders twitched.<br />
<p>“We’ve always used birth control, haven’t we? But they say it’s never a hundred-percent guaranteed, so I thought this time was just...”<br />
<p>“I don’t know.”<br />
<p>She did not deny it completely. Douno could not help but press further.<br />
<p>“Did you use birth control with him?”<br />
<p>“How could you ask me something like that?” Mariko snapped.<br />
<p>“It’s important. If you didn’t, it might be his child.”<br />
<p>Mariko chewed her lip hard. “We didn’t,” she mumbled. The world went dark before Douno’s eyes.<br />
<p>“He said he physically couldn’t have children... that he barely produced any sperm, so he could come inside me and it would be okay. That’s why...”<br />
<p>“Why didn’t you tell me that it might not be my child?”<br />
<p>“It was hard for me, too!” Mariko insisted. “But how could I say that after what we’ve been going through? Tell you I’m pregnant with someone else’s baby right after Honoka’s died?”<br />
<p>“Then, what were you planning to do?” Douno demanded. “If I hadn’t known anything, if I hadn’t found out, would you have given birth to that man’s baby and raised it as our own?”<br />
<p>“You want me to abort it, then?” his wife shot back challengingly. Douno felt like he had been punched in the face. <br />
<p>“This baby is probably his. Timing-wise, I feel like it is. When I told him, he cried and begged me to have it. He pleaded with me not to kill it.”<br />
<p>Douno’s breath caught in his throat.<br />
<p>“But I’m your wife, so if you tell me to abort it, I will.” <br />
<p>Douno’s lips trembled in anger. Why was his wife trying to unload a matter as important as a human life entirely upon him? Why was she trying to thrust upon him her part of her mistake, her responsibility, when Douno had played no part in it? Was this decision one that he necessarily had to make?<br />
<p>At first, he had been glad to hear about the budding life inside Mariko’s belly, despite their situation. The fact remained the same, there was still a child there; yet Douno felt his sympathy begin to diminish rapidly at an almost alarming rate.<br />
<p>“You’re telling me to love it?” Douno said quietly. “You want me to love that child, that living proof that you betrayed me?”<br />
<p>“My body might have betrayed you, but my heart hasn’t,” Mariko pleaded. “I still love you. I love you so much. I was so happy every time my friends and everyone told me ‘Mariko, you have such a kind husband’.”<br />
<p>“Kind”―Mariko’s words passed through his ears unheard. It stirred no happiness in him; in fact, it stirred no emotion in him at all. Douno left the bedroom and returned to the living room. He sat on the sofa for a while, but unable to bear it anymore, he grabbed his car keys and burst out of the house.<br />
<p>He jammed the key into the ignition and violently started the engine. He was not set on going anywhere. He only drove wherever the car would take him, repeatedly making the kind of reckless passes he could never have imagined from his regular self. Cars honked at him from behind as if to yell at him.<br />
<p>Soon, it began to rain. The traffic lights turned red. Douno slammed on the brakes, sending his car spinning out into the middle of the intersection.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/07/novel-in-box-pt-14.html">PART 14</a>.</center><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-69024142515775389462013-07-15T02:00:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.431-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 12("Out of the Cage" Part 2)<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/07/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-11.html">PART 11</a>.<br />
<br />
<p>Overtime wore on late that day, and by the time Douno left the office, it was past nine at night. An accident had happened along the route home, closing off an entire lane and bringing traffic to a standstill. Douno did not get to his apartment until past ten. <br />
<p>The asphalt in the parking lot still carried a damp smell from the heat wave during the day. Exhausted, Douno climbed the stairs with a drooping head, and when he opened the door to his apartment, the first thing he saw was a familiar pair of shoes. Dirty white runners―Kitagawa was here.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“I’m home,” Douno called as he entered the kitchen. Mariko was there preparing Douno’s portion of dinner. He peered into the living room beyond to see Kitagawa asleep, lying on his back on the sofa. Curled up like a cat on his chest was Honoka.<br />
<p>“I wonder if he finds that heavy?” Douno whispered to Mariko as he loosened his tie. Mariko smiled wryly.<br />
<p>“Honoka was practically jumping up and down when Mr. Kitagawa came over. She wouldn’t leave him for a moment. At around nine, I think, he tried to go home, but Honoka had a crying fit, and he’s been keeping her company since. I guess they must have tired themselves out. They’re both fast asleep.”<br />
<p>Douno sat at the table with his bowl in one hand, gazing at them absently. From a stranger’s eyes, the two looked like a real father and daughter.<br />
<p>It was now about two months since Kitagawa first came to Douno’s house for dinner. After his first visit, Kitagawa began to come over at least once or twice a week to eat dinner. <br />
<p>At first, Kitagawa would telephone Douno, and would wait at the bottom floor of Douno’s apartment until Douno arrived home, at which point they would go up to his apartment together.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was as taciturn as ever in Mariko’s presence, and hardly spoke. When he did talk, it was during the seven-to-eight-minute walk with Douno back to Kitagawa’s house, and even then, he only spoke a few words at best.<br />
<p>Kitagawa still talked to him, but no longer mentioned anything about loving him or feeling lonely. Douno reckoned it was because Kitagawa had been able to draw the line in his heart.<br />
<p>Eventually, Kitagawa appeared to grow more comfortable with Douno’s family, for he began to come over for dinner even when Douno was not home. It started first when Kitagawa had stopped by on his way home from work with sweets for Honoka, saying he had gotten them as a gift. Since it was conveniently dinner hour, Mariko had invited him over.<br />
<p>“My husband’s not home yet, but would you like to stay for dinner with us anyway?” she had offered. Kitagawa did not decline. By the time Douno got home, Kitagawa had already eaten and left.<br />
<p>Douno was surprised to hear the story from Mariko. He could not believe that Kitagawa had visited and stayed for dinner without him present. Douno took that as a sign that Kitagawa was beginning to feel at ease at his house, and it filled him with happiness.<br />
<p>After that, Kitagawa began to bring over all sorts of things, claiming they were from his workplace. According to him, when they worked with non-commercial clients who had custom home projects, they often visited the construction site and brought fruits, snacks, and juice for the workers. Kitagawa would bring what was left.<br />
<p>Douno once told him not to feel pressured to bring things. Kitagawa dismissed it, saying they were only leftovers anyway.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa brought watermelon today,” Mariko informed him. “We had some already, and it was very sweet and delicious.” She lowered her voice a level as she sat across from Douno.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa is such an enigma. He was a little scary at first, but once you get to know him, he’s not like that all. Today, he even offered to wash the dishes because he said I’m always the one cooking for everyone.”<br />
<p>“Kitagawa did the dishes?”<br />
<p>“Yes. You could learn from him, too, hubby.”<br />
<p>“Oh, no,” Douno murmured jokingly. Mariko giggled.<br />
<p>“But he’s like a big kid.”<br />
<p>“Kid?”<br />
<p>“He takes playing with Honoka so seriously. I feel like he’s more of Honoka’s boyfriend than your friend. Is it rude to think of a grown man like that?”<br />
<p>Douno had nothing to say in answer.<br />
<p>“You should have seen him earlier,” Mariko continued. “It was so funny. Honoka was proposing to Mr. Kitagawa. She said ‘Will you marry me?’ and everything. You know how kids just say those things. Mr. Kitagawa should have just brushed it off, but he was actually giving her serious answers. ‘But we’re thirty-one years apart’ he’d say, or ‘You’ll feel different about me once you’re older’. I thought I would split my sides laughing. I could barely hold it in.”<br />
<p>Douno laughed, too, as the image rose in his mind. It was past ten-thirty when he finished eating. Douno gathered Honoka in his arms and lifted her off of Kitagawa’s chest. The movement woke Kitagawa up. He looked at Douno with sleepy eyes.<br />
<p>“I heard you were keeping Honoka company until now. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,” Douno said.<br />
<p>The man’s lips, twisted in a half-tearful frown and a half-smile, moved slightly to speak.<br />
<p>“Doesn’t matter.”<br />
<p>“I had some of that watermelon, too. It was delicious.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa got up on the sofa and gave his head a vigorous shake.<br />
<p>“I’ll take you home.”<br />
<p>Douno left Honoka in Mariko’s care and left the apartment with a sleepy-eyed Kitagawa. There was really no need to walk Kitagawa home since he was a man, but after doing so the first time, it was a custom for Douno to take Kitagawa home after he ate.<br />
<p>“I want to take the car today,” Kitagawa said, which was unusual for him. They normally walked, but Douno was grateful for the man’s request to take the car. He was a little tired from working overtime today.<br />
<p>Kitagawa yawned incessantly in the passenger seat. He wearily rubbed his eyes over and over. Douno asked him what time he usually slept, and to no surprise, the man answered that he slept at nine.<br />
<p>The seven- or eight-minute walk to Kitagawa’s house took only two or three minutes by car. <br />
<p>“Your wife was saying she wants a second kid,” Kitagawa said, just as Douno parked the car in front of the man’s house.<br />
<p>“What?”<br />
<p>“A second kid.”<br />
<p>It was true that Mariko had mentioned wanting to have a second child. But he had no idea why Kitagawa was telling him this.<br />
<p>“We’re already on a tight budget, so I think a second child would be hard to have,” Douno sighed. <br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa murmured before closing his eyes. “Let me know when you feel like having another one.”<br />
<p>“Wh-Why?”<br />
<p>“So I can die.”<br />
<p>“Die, as in...” Douno hesitantly asked the obvious. Kitagawa gave him a sidelong glance.<br />
<p>“Stop living,” he answered.<a href="#box1" name="box1r"><sup>[1]</sup></a><br />
<p>“Why would you want to die if I have a second child?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa scratched his head.<br />
<p>“If I die, I might be reincarnated as your kid.”<br />
<p>“As if that could ever happen!” Douno found himself yelling angrily.<br />
<p>“But it might, right? It said so in a book I read yesterday. This kid died and was born again to the same couple. That’s can’t be <i>all</i> a lie, is it? Why would you say it’s impossible?” Kitagawa’s face was serious.<br />
<p>“But that means you’ll die, right?”<br />
<p>“Well, yeah.”<br />
<p>“There’s no point if you’re not alive anymore.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but,” Kitagawa insisted, “I’d rather be a kid in your family instead of going on living as me. That way I’ll be able to live with you forever.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa let out a short sigh.<br />
<p>“Your house has this warm feeling. I like how it smells inside, too. But every day when the time comes, I have to go home. Your house is somewhere I’m allowed to go over to play, but not stay at forever, right?”<br />
<p>Douno pounded the steering wheel.<br />
<p>“I didn’t invite you to my house to push you to extremes and make you talk about dying. I just wanted you to experience what a home was like―”<br />
<p>Kitagawa fell silent.<br />
<p>“What can I do to make my love disappear?” he asked quietly. “I’m starting to get tired of it. I’m sick of thinking about you all day. Should I go somewhere far away where I can’t see your face? But I know where your house is, so I’ll probably end up coming back whenever I want to see you. Oh, I know, I just have to get thrown in jail again. In there, I’d―”<br />
<p>“Stop it!” Douno cut him off desperately. “Don’t mistreat yourself like that, talking about dying and getting yourself into jail.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa let out a long sigh.<br />
<p>“I never mattered much in the first place. It doesn’t matter if I live or die. You're the only one who tries to attach some weird meaning to me. That’s why I can’t help thinking about you, too.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa got out of the car. Douno scrambled out of the driver’s seat as well.<br />
<p>“Don’t do anything rash, you hear?” he yelled at the man’s back as he made his way to the gates.<br />
<p>The man passed through the gates without turning around. Douno felt crushed as he climbed back into the car. <i>“I’ll die so I can be reincarnated into your family.”</i> Douno’s heart trembled with grief at the way Kitagawa thought.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was far from insignificant and hopeless. His existence had meaning in itself. <i>Why else would I involve myself this much in your life?</i> It was because Kitagawa had his own charms, and for no other reason than that.<br />
<p>Was being ill-treated in childhood enough to make a man despair this much? Enough to make him want to die?<br />
<p><i>Someone―won’t someone please love this man?</i> Douno wished in earnest. <i>Won’t someone love him so much and bind him from head to toe in love and responsibility, so much that he would never be able to mention his own death again?</i><br />
<br />
<p>In the end of August, Mariko quit her part-time job. It was a sudden decision, and when Douno asked why in case anything had happened, Mariko only stared at her feet and said she didn’t get along with the people at work. She said nothing more, and since she appeared reluctant to talk about it, Douno let the topic drop without pursuing it further.<br />
<p>In the first week of September one Friday night at ten, the phone rang. When Douno picked up, a man’s voice spoke on the other end.<br />
<p>“Hello, this is Taguchi from Sun Supermarket speaking. May I speak to Mrs. Mariko?”<br />
<p>Douno wondered what an ex-boss might want with her, but passed the phone over anyway. Less than a minute passed before Mariko angrily slammed the phone down.<br />
<p>“What did Mr. Taguchi want?” Douno asked. <br />
<p>“I don’t know,” Mariko said angrily. It was rare for her to get so emotional.<br />
<p>“What do you mean, you don’t know? Didn’t he call you to talk to you about something?”<br />
<p>Mariko sat down across from him. She knitted her brow in a frown, and sighed several times. She glanced at Douno briefly.<br />
<p>“He comes to me for advice about his wife.”<br />
<p>“His wife?”<br />
<p>“She hasn’t been well this past year. I think she’s entering menopause. She’s always in a bad mood, and she takes it out on him. He’s been talking to me about it before, but I can’t believe he’s still calling me to complain even after I’ve quit. It’s not even my problem.”<br />
<p>Douno stood up, went to sit down beside Mariko, and put his arm around her shoulders.<br />
<p>“Don’t say things like that. If he’s going to feel better by you hearing him out, just let him talk until he feels better.”<br />
<p>“But―” Mariko still looked furious. “I hate his wife. She used to be a model, and she likes to show off about it. She’s tall and pretty, but she talks down to everyone.”<br />
<p>Douno kissed Mariko, unable to stand listening to his wife badmouth someone in this way. When he stroked her hair gently, the younger woman apologized.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry,” she said. “I know you hate these kinds of conversations. I’m sorry.”<br />
<p>“It’s okay. You need to vent, too.”<br />
<p>“You know,” Mariko lowered her eyes. “When I met you, I remember thinking what a gentle person you were. I knew for sure I’d be happy with you.”<br />
<p>“Are you happy?” Douno asked. Mariko nodded deeply and put her arms around him. Douno began to feel aroused for the first time in a while. His fingertips had just begun to gather heat when the phone rang again.<br />
<p>Douno made to pick it up, but Mariko stood first.<br />
<p>“I think it’s for me,” she said. She answered not from the main phone, but the cordless handset in the kitchen. She said two or three words into the phone before she pressed a hand against the mouthpiece and turned to Douno.<br />
<p>“It’s a friend from high school,” she told him, then left the living room.<br />
<p>Douno was a little disappointed at being interrupted in the moment. He felt like having a beer for a change, and opened the fridge. He was sitting and watching the news, sipping his beer, when Mariko returned to the living room twenty minutes later.<br />
<p>“My friend invited me to dinner the day after tomorrow. I told her I can’t because I have to take care of Honoka.”<br />
<p>She sat down beside Douno. “Let me have some of that,” she said, and took a swallow of his opened beer, and sighed. She had quit her job due to social problems in the workplace, yet here was her former boss continuing to come to her for advice. Douno felt like she deserved at least a day off to have dinner with her friend, chat, and enjoy some freedom.<br />
<p>“Why don’t you go have that dinner with your friend?” Douno suggested. “I can watch Honoka for a day, no problem.”<br />
<p>“But―”<br />
<p>“Go on and enjoy your time out.”<br />
<p>Mariko appeared to hesitate a little.<br />
<p>“Thank you,” she mumbled with her face down.<br />
<br />
<p>On the day of Mariko’s dinner, Douno talked to his boss Tatsuta immediately after arriving at work.<br />
<p>“My wife won’t be home in the evening today, so I’m wondering if I could go home early to take care of my daughter,” he asked. Tatsuta was quick to give a positive answer, since it was not a busy time of year.<br />
<p>“Sure, that’s fine. I understand,” he reassured Douno.<br />
<p>The morning went by as usual, but things changed quickly in the afternoon when a part-time worker fell ill suddenly. She had been fine in the morning, so her sickness was likely due to the lunch she had brought. She was suffering from severe and persistent diarrhoea and vomiting, and was too weak to walk. Tatsuta took her to a hospital nearby, then sent her straight home.<br />
<p>Douno had to take on the part-timer’s share of the workload as well as Tatsuta’s portion, which he had dropped to accompany the girl. Suddenly, he was not sure if he could get home by six o’clock as he had planned.<br />
<p>Upon Tatsuta’s return, they split the bills and began sorting through them together, but even when five o’clock rolled around, they were not even through two-thirds of the work. Douno could not bring himself to go home early and thrust the rest of the work upon Tatsuta. He agonized about what to do. He felt guilty about calling his wife and telling her that he wasn’t able to come home after all. She was probably eagerly looking forward to going out to eat with her friend. He knew Mariko would understand and call off her plans if he explained his situation. She was not a child, after all. Yet―<br />
<p>Time ticked away as precisely as ever no matter how many times Douno looked at the clock. Amidst his distracted mind and the resulting frequent interruptions to his work, Douno’s ears caught the sound of rain. Great. Now it was raining, to top things off. It did not get worse than this. Rain... rain....<br />
<p><i>“When it rains―”</i><br />
<p>Suddenly he remembered. If the man was off work.... Once Douno got the idea of asking him, there was no second-guessing. With a word of apology to Tatsuta, he excused himself and went out into the hallway with his cell phone in hand, and made a hasty call to the man who lived in the single detached house on the outskirts of the residential neighbourhood.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Douno got home past ten o’clock at night. With a packaged meal from the convenience store in one hand, he opened the door to his apartment and was met suddenly with a burst of joyous laughter.<br />
<p>He peered into the living room to see Honoka sitting on Kitagawa’s crossed legs, reading a picture book in a loud voice. Her favourite picture books lay scattered in a circle around the two.<br />
<p>“I’m home.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa turned around slowly. He gathered Honoka up, who was still reading, and came walking over to the kitchen.<br />
<p>“Me and Honoka already ate the dinner your wife made.”<br />
<p>“Oh, that’s fine. I bought my own.” Douno placed the bag containing his takeout dinner on the table.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry for asking you to babysit all of a sudden.”<br />
<p>“I was off work anyway. I had nothing to do, so I gave her a bath.”<br />
<p>“Huh?”<br />
<p>Douno looked at Honoka and noticed she was wearing her yellow pyjamas instead of her regular clothes. He had not noticed until now.<br />
<p>“I took a bath, too, while I was at it.”<br />
<p>“Oh... well, that’s totally fine. That saves me a lot of work.” Kitagawa grinned proudly when Douno thanked him. Douno had called his house in the evening. He had figured Kitagawa would be off early from work because of the rain, and he was right. The man had been home.<br />
<p>When Douno asked him to babysit Honoka while his wife was out, the man had agreed in an emotionless voice.<br />
<p>“Thank you so much for today. You’re a lifesaver,” Douno thanked Kitagawa properly.<br />
<p>“Your wife went out to eat or something, right?”<br />
<p>“Yeah. I wanted her to have a night out with a friend for a change. I’m sure she gets tired from looking after Honoka and me every day.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm, I see,” Kitagawa murmured.<br />
<p>“Daddy, daddy, guess what?”<br />
<p>“What?”<br />
<p>“Me and Kei are gonna get married,” Honoka announced happily, with her arms wrapped around Kitagawa’s neck. Honoka’s marriage announcements had become somewhat of a regular occurrence.<br />
<p>“Is that so? Then, you’re going to become a proper little lady fit for Kitagawa, won’t you?”<br />
<p>“Yeah!” Honoka nodded deeply once. While Douno ate, Honoka set Kitagawa to work at his best skill: drawing. Noticing the sudden silence, Douno peeked into the living room to see Honoka fallen fast asleep in Kitagawa’s arms.<br />
<p>He looked at the clock. It was almost eleven. Mariko was not home yet. Perhaps she was getting carried away in nostalgic conversations with her high school friend.<br />
<p>“Your wife’s pretty late,” Kitagawa muttered.<br />
<p>“Yeah,” Douno agreed vaguely. “Oh, you must be sleepy, too. I’m sorry for keeping you so late. I’ll take you home.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa shifted Honoka over in his arms.<br />
<p>“What should I do with her?”<br />
<p>“I’m sure she’ll be fine alone because she’s sleeping, but I’ll take her in case. We’ll take the car tonight. It’s raining, anyway, and you won’t get wet this way.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa answered. Douno wondered if the man wanted to walk home, but he could not yield today since Honoka was with them.<br />
<p>“So, what about my thanks?”<br />
<p>“Huh?” Douno asked in surprise.<br />
<p>“My thanks. My thank-you. I watched your kid for you. I think I deserve something in return, right?”<br />
<p>Douno felt flustered. He had not expected to be asked for a token of gratitude for a four-hour babysitting session. He had simply seen it as Kitagawa coming over for dinner and staying longer than usual. <br />
<p><i>We invited you over for dinner so many times until now.</i> With some effort, Douno restrained himself from sounding like he was the one doing Kitagawa a favour. Douno had been the one to call Kitagawa out suddenly, and it was true that the man had been a great help. But it seemed much too cold and impersonal to give him cash.<br />
<p>“Is there something you want? I’ll buy it for the next time you come.”<br />
<p>“I don’t need things. I want a promise.”<br />
<p>“A promise?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa gathered a limp Honoka up in his arms. Honoka was nudged awake by the motion, and Kitagawa rubbed his cheek against hers like a dog.<br />
<p>“When this one turns sixteen, I want you to give her to me.”<br />
<p>Douno blinked in astonishment.<br />
<p>“That is, if she still likes me when she’s sixteen.”<br />
<p>Douno’s brain could not sort out the sudden statement.<br />
<p>“Y-Yeah, but―” he managed to stammer despite his stubbornly leaden tongue. “Honoka is only four. She’s just a little child. She says she wants to marry you, but she’s just gotten into a habit of saying that. It’s not something to take seriously―”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stroked Honoka’s hair.<br />
<p>“It doesn’t matter if it’s a kid or an adult, they still feel the same love. ―Honoka, do you like me?”<br />
<p>“I looooove you!” Honoka clung to Kitagawa’s neck. The man’s eyes crinkled in a smile. “When you turn sixteen and you still like me the same, I’ll take you as my wife,” he murmured to the child with genuine sincerity, then looked at Douno.<br />
<p>“Promise,” he said.<br />
<p>Saying yes was the last thing Douno wanted to do.<br />
<p>“But really, Honoka is just a child...”<br />
<p>“I’m not saying I want her now. I’m talking about when she turns sixteen. She won’t be a child anymore when she’s sixteen.”<br />
<p>“There’s Honoka’s own feelings as well...”<br />
<p>“I’m only saying if she still likes me then. I won’t force her if she doesn’t want to.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa was not kidding. When Honoka turned sixteen, and she said she loved him, he would probably really take her away.<br />
<p>“B-But you’re too far apart in age.” Douno’s palms turned sweaty as he spoke. Kitagawa tilted his head in perplexity.<br />
<p>“Why are you so against it? You don’t wanna give your daughter away to an older ex-convict?” His voice rang out over Douno’s bowed head.<br />
<p>“That’s not what I mean.”<br />
<p>It did not matter if the man was an ex-convict, or someone far apart in age. If Honoka said she really loved him, Douno knew he would have no choice but to acknowledge him. But he had trouble coming to terms with the fact that “him” was Kitagawa. Was the man saying this because he really loved Honoka, or did he want her because she was Douno’s daughter? Douno could not help but feel Kitagawa was taking his daughter as a replacement for him. He felt himself shudder.<br />
<p>“You should have more kids,” Kitagawa said suddenly.<br />
<p>Douno raised his head.<br />
<p>“Two, three, more, it doesn’t matter. Make enough so you wouldn’t mind giving one to me.”<br />
<p>“That’s absurd!” Douno snapped. “I don’t raise kids to give them away to you!”<br />
<p>Kitagawa furrowed his brow.<br />
<p>“What’re you so mad about? You started this in the first place. You told me to love someone and start a family. I think this kid is cute. So if I’m gonna start a family, I’ll start it with Honoka.”<br />
<p>“She’s a little girl! Will you listen to yourself?” Douno yelled, wrenching Honoka away from Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“Noooo, I wan’ Kei to hold me!” Honoka whined, resisting her father’s embrace. She thrashed and flailed, and when Douno unwittingly let go, she went dashing back to Kitagawa. She clung to him desperately. Kitagawa bent his knees so he was level with Honoka, and gently stroked her straight hair.<br />
<p>“If you wanna be my bride, grow up soon,” he told her. “But don’t become pretty. It’ll be a pain in the neck if other guys started coming up to you.”<br />
<p>They heard a clatter at the door. <br />
<p>“I’m home,” called a voice brightly. Mariko came into the kitchen. “I’m sorry, honey,” she apologized. “My friend and I got carried away with our conversation. Mr. Kitagawa, you too. I’m sorry making you babysit on such short notice today.”<br />
<p>“Doesn’t matter,” Kitagawa answered in his usual brusque manner. <br />
<p>“I bought some cake on the way home. Why don’t we all sit down and have some?”<br />
<p>“Kitagawa’s going home now,” Douno answered before Kitagawa could. <br />
<p>“Really?” Mariko said, tilting her head and looking disappointed. Kitagawa gave Honoka a playful rub on the head before heading to the doorway. Douno watched as the man put his shoes on. Since did not mean to take him home, he purposely did not put on his own shoes.<br />
<p>Kitagawa finished putting on his shoes and stood in the doorway as if to wait for him.<br />
<p>“Walk yourself home today.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa cocked his head slightly, but said nothing. He exited the apartment by himself. When Douno returned to the living room, Mariko was talking on the phone with someone. She hung up immediately when she noticed Douno come in.<br />
<p>“I thought you were taking Mr. Kitagawa home.”<br />
<p>“Not today.”<br />
<p>“Why not?”<br />
<p>Mariko glanced out the window. “It’s raining pretty hard out there. I hope Mr. Kitagawa doesn’t get soaked on his way home.”<br />
<p>Douno approached the window. She was right―it was pouring outside, as if to wash something away. He spotted a black umbrella slowly walking down the pathway in front of the apartment. It stopped, then appeared to look up. Douno could not see the face very well, but he felt like it was Kitagawa. He quickly yanked the curtain shut.<br />
<p>Honoka was so preoccupied with the cake that Mariko had bought that she did not throw a tantrum when Kitagawa had to go home. Douno sank into his thoughts as he watched his daughter devour the cake with cream all over her mouth. One thing was for certain: Kitagawa’s asking for his four-year-old’s hand in marriage was not normal.<br />
<p>But in a decade and some years, Honoka would grow from a child to a woman. If Kitagawa asked for Honoka’s hand then, Douno felt like he wouldn’t be able to say no―even more so if they were serious about each other.<br />
<p>“Do you not like the cake much?” Mariko asked him, looking concerned that his portion was untouched. <br />
<p>“That’s not it,” Douno replied, then stood up. “I’m not in the mood for sweet stuff right now. I’ll have it tomorrow.”<br />
<p>As Douno moved behind his wife, whose head was down. He spotted a red mark on her neck. He tilted his head curiously, wondering if he had kissed that spot when they had sex two days ago. When he touched the reddened spot, Mariko’s spine tensed.<br />
<p>“Honey, stop that. Your hands are cold.” Douno hastily withdrew his hand.<br />
<p>“Sorry. It was getting red there.”<br />
<p>Mariko scratched her neck lightly with her pretty pink manicured nails.<br />
<p>“Is it a bug bite? It’s been itching since yesterday.”<br />
<p>“You shouldn’t scratch it,” Douno whispered into her ear, then embraced Mariko from behind. She smelled newly-washed, fresh and clean like soap. Douno did not recognize this perfume.<br />
<p>“Hey...”<br />
<p>Mariko turned around. Her expression was stiff, for some inexplicable reason.<br />
<p>“What kind of man do you think Honoka will marry in the future?”<br />
<p>Mariko gave a pronounced blink before bursting into laughter.<br />
<p>“Are you worrying about that already? Honoka’s only four. You’re quite the handful, aren’t you, Mr. Papa?”<br />
<p>“Children grow up quickly. That’s why I was just wondering...”<br />
<p><i>Hmm</i>, Mariko murmured as she placed both hands on Douno’s arms circling around her.<br />
<p>“I don’t know what sort of person she’ll love, but I do hope she’ll be happy. I want her to find a gentle husband, just like I did.”<br />
<p>Douno watched his daughter intently eating the cake. He thought, fleetingly, about how he would feel if Kitagawa bore Honoka away when she turned sixteen.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>“When this one turns sixteen, I want you to give her to me.”<br />
<p>Even after angering Douno with this statement, Kitagawa’s visits to the Douno house did not cease. He continued to come over to eat dinner at a pace of once to twice a week.<br />
<p>Although Honoka continued to say she wanted to be Kitagawa’s bride, Kitagawa himself stopped saying he wanted Honoka as a wife ever since that day Douno had asked him to babysit. But Douno felt like the man was still serious about what he said, and had merely stopped putting it into words.<br />
<p>Douno reflected on what he did that rainy day and admitted he had acted immaturely. Kitagawa had not suggested taking her against her will, and he had said he would prioritize Honoka’s feelings. Even if Kitagawa was serious, this promise would be null if Honoka had no interest in him. In retrospect, Douno felt like he could have said yes―it was only an informal promise, after all.<br />
<p>Lately, Kitagawa had begun to visit Douno’s house on Sunday afternoons. He came not to eat, but to play with Honoka. Honoka knew Kitagawa came over on Sundays, so she was often restless since morning. When Kitagawa arrived, she was beside herself with joy and would cling to Kitagawa like a suckerfish, saying, “Let’s play outside” or “Draw me something.”<br />
<p>Douno sometimes had to work on Sundays, and occasionally he would come home past two to find the house empty, with Kitagawa and Honoka gone to the park and Mariko gone shopping.<br />
<p>Sometimes Douno had the impression that Honoka was closer to Kitagawa than she was to her own father. He sometimes accompanied Honoka and Kitagawa to the park on Sunday afternoons, but there was no way he could put up with child’s play patiently for hours on end like Kitagawa did.<br />
<p>Then came October, and its first Sunday. Douno left the house for work in the afternoon, then came back past five to find a rare sight―flowers in the vase in the living room. They were small purple flowers, the kind he would probably have seen in the back mountains in his childhood. The flowers made him feel strongly nostalgic.<br />
<p>“What’s this?” he asked.<br />
<p>“Honoka brought them home,” Mariko answered.<br />
<p>“Who did she get them from? Don’t tell me she’s picked them from someone else’s garden.”<br />
<p>“Of course not, Mr. Kitagawa was with her,” Mariko said with a laugh. As Douno touched the purple petals, he heard the pattering footsteps of Honoka running up to him. She pulled at Douno’s pant leg with her tiny fingers. She cupped her mouth as if about to tell a secret, and when Douno crouched down, Honoka put her cupped hands to his ear and spoke in a low voice.<br />
<p>“I got the flowers from Kei’s house.”<br />
<p>“Kitagawa’s house?”<br />
<p>“There’s lots in his garden.”<br />
<p>Douno looked at her and saw sitting atop her head a small crown of flowers about ten centimetres wide, made with the same purple flowers. He picked it up to take a closer look, and saw that several threads connected the small flower stems together to make a ring. It was quite a piece of handiwork.<br />
<p>“Daddy, it’s mine.” His daughter stretched her hands out and stood on her tip-toes. When Douno set the crown on her head, Honoka giggled with glee.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s house―the old rental property with a yard. When the real estate agent had shown it to him, the garden had been dark and overgrown with weeds.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa’s your Prince Charming, isn’t he?” Mariko pinched her daughter’s cheek lightly.<br />
<p>“I’m Kei’s fee-an-say,” Honoka pouted, having apparently picked up the mature word from somewhere. “Next, he’s gonna make me a crown with yellow flowers. He promised.”<br />
<p>Every time Honoka squeezed her crown of flowers, the purple petals loosened and scattered to the floor. Douno watched those petals fall, feeling somewhat conflicted.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>On the next Sunday, in the afternoon, Douno went to work on his day off. A female part-timer had quit suddenly, and they were having trouble finding a replacement. A week’s worth of menial tasks had piled up over that time, and Douno was heading in to get those done.<br />
<p>At past five thirty, Douno began to clean up his desk with a mind to get home soon. Just then, his cell phone rang in his bag. It was from Mariko.<br />
<p>“Honoka’s missing,” she said, her voice trembling a little. “After we ate lunch, I nodded off for a bit on the couch. I woke up past two, and Honoka was gone. She was watching a video right beside me. The front door was open, and... I thought at first Mr. Kitagawa had come by and taken Honoka out, but it’s past five and I haven’t heard anything from him. He usually brings her home around this time.”<br />
<p>Douno tilted his head.<br />
<p>“Maybe Honoka’s still dragging Kitagawa around. Have you tried calling his house?”<br />
<p>“I have, but no one’s picking up. I don’t think anyone’s home. Besides, Mr. Kitagawa always says something to me before taking Honoka out. Sure, he might have come while I was sleeping, and Honoka might have unlocked the door, realizing it was him, and they might’ve gone out to play together. But isn’t it a bit careless to leave the door unlocked? I think there’s something wrong.”<br />
<p>Douno tried to calm his wife, who insisted that something was off.<br />
<p>“Have you tried looking for her in the park?”<br />
<p>“I went once, but she wasn’t there. I couldn’t bear leaving the house, just in case Honoka came home.”<br />
<p>“I’ll head back right away,” Douno told her, and hung up his cell. He did not take Honoka’s disappearance very seriously at the time. It was only five-thirty, and he figured she was likely over at Kitagawa’s house. <br />
<p>Douno stopped by Kitagawa’s house on his way home. He phoned the man once, but no one picked up. He parked his car in an abandoned lot close to Kitagawa’s house, and pushed the limp ornamental gates open to enter the property.<br />
<p>There was a concrete path about five metres long from the gates to the door. The sun had begun to set, and it was growing dark. The garden was dense with tall, overgrown plants. Douno felt like he could easily overlook a small child hidden curled up in the shadows at his feet.<br />
<p>There was no doorbell at the entrance, but there was a palm-sized plank of wood with “Kitagawa” written on it, serving as a nameplate.<br />
<p>Douno knocked the sliding door a few times. There was no response. On a whim, he pulled the door sideways, and it slid open easily without a sound. It was not locked. Kitagawa was astonishingly careless.<br />
<p>It was dark in the doorway, but Douno could make out Kitagawa’s white running shoes. Honoka’s small shoes were nowhere to be seen.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa, are you home?” he called loudly. He heard the floorboards creaking further down the hallway. The light in the entrance turned on with a click.<br />
<p>“It’s you.” Kitagawa was naked from the waist up, with pyjama bottoms. He narrowed his eyes in a disgruntled manner. “What do you want?”<br />
<p>“Did you come over today?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa scratched his head. <br />
<p>“What time is it right now?”<br />
<p>Douno checked his watch. “Ten past six,” he answered. Kitagawa clicked his tongue irritably.<br />
<p>“I was drinking ‘til morning with the guys from the construction site. I came home and was sleeping ‘til now. I haven’t gone to your house.”<br />
<p>Only then did Douno realize his wife’s misgivings were coming true. He swallowed hard.<br />
<p>“Honoka’s been missing since about two this afternoon. I was totally under the impression that you were with her.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa put on a pair of bamboo <i>setta</i> sandals and slipped past Douno to go out into the yard.<br />
<p>“Hey, Honoka. Come out if you’re there.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa walked around the dense and jungle-like garden while calling Honoka’s name. Douno joined him. They even checked under the elevated porch, but Douno’s little daughter was nowhere to be found.<br />
<p>Douno panicked. He had supposed all long that he would find Honoka at Kitagawa’s house. If she had gone out alone and gotten lost, there was still hope. But if she had, by chance, been kidnapped―Douno was unable to keep still at the thought.<br />
<p>“If she’s not here, that’s fine. I’ll go home and try searching around there.”<br />
<p>Douno made to go home, and was grabbed firmly by the shoulder from behind.<br />
<p>“If you’re gonna look for her, I’ll help.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but...”<br />
<p>“Isn’t it better to have as many hands as you can for these things?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa was right. Two was better than one; three was better than two, for they could split up to look for her.<br />
<p>“I’m worried about the kid, too. Once I get changed, I’ll look for her on the way to your house.”<br />
<p>“Th-Thank you.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa went back into his house. Douno hurried to his car outside, and drove it home while keeping a cautious eye out in case his daughter was squatting curled up on the sidewalk.<br />
<p>It was 6:45 by the time Douno got home, and Honoka had still not returned. When Douno told Mariko that she had not been at Kitagawa’s house either, Mariko paled and sank weakly to her knees at the door.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa’s out there searching for her, too. I’m thinking of going to the park and the main road again. I want you to stay home and keep watch.”<br />
<p>Before leaving the house, Douno reassured Mariko that Honoka would definitely be found, and that she had to remain strong.<br />
<p>However, in the end, Douno could not find Honoka around the park or along the main road. He tried going to Honoka’s kindergarten, but the gates were shut tightly on weekends, and there were no small gaps that a child might fit through.<br />
<p>The clock struck nine as Douno frantically searched the vicinity of his house. He called Mariko to let her know he was coming home before heading back to the apartment. <br />
<p>Mariko was sitting on the floor in the doorway clutching her cell phone. When Douno entered the apartment, she looked up at him, close to tears.<br />
<p>“So Honoka hasn’t been found yet?”<br />
<p>“I’m going to go out again and look for her.”<br />
<p>“Honey, why don’t we go to the police about this?”<br />
<p>Douno turned around.<br />
<p>“The police are the specialists when it comes to finding lost children, right? I’m sure if we tell them how she disappeared, they’ll give us tips on how to find her, or some advice.”<br />
<p>The police―Douno recalled his bitter past with the police when he was framed as a train groper. He was still overcome with anger as he remembered the interrogation. It had been as if they were trying to make him out as the perpetrator.<br />
<p>He had a lingering aversion to the police, but now was not the time to be trapped by his past; there was a chance he would end up regretting putting his ego first. Douno followed his wife’s advice and called the police. When he told them that his daughter had been missing since this afternoon, they told him that they would send an officer his way in order to get the details. It was a much better response than he had expected.<br />
<p>A young officer arrived at their house not more than fifteen minutes after the call. He spent a good hour asking Mariko for all the minute details about when Honoka went missing, and left.<br />
<p>In the end, Douno ended up filing a missing persons report to the police. Four officers arrived after he filed it, and they searched all the places that Honoka might go.<br />
<p>By that time, the news of Honoka gone missing had reached the entire neighbourhood. Other residents of the apartment, along with the landlord, came out to help. They searched for Honoka all night, but she was not found.<br />
<p>Amidst this ordeal, the only saving grace was that it was not winter. If Honoka had gotten lost and was sleeping outside, at least she would not freeze to death.<br />
<p>The night sky lightened into dawn. Douno was exhausted from walking around all night in his search.<br />
<p>“They should start sweeping the bottom of the river,” muttered an elderly neighbour who had been helping him. The river bottom―Douno’s heart contracted at the thought that Honoka might not be alive.<br />
<p>At seven in the morning, an officer who had been searching with him spoke to Douno.<br />
<p>“Sir, why don’t you go home once and take a rest? I’m sure you’re worried, but get some sleep, even for one hour. If you don’t rest up, you won’t last for the days ahead.” Feeling pressured, Douno rushed home. This time, Mariko ran up to him, asking him if Honoka had been found.<br />
<p>He had told her that he would call her immediately if he found Honoka. But it seemed Mariko could not help but ask him every time he came home.<br />
<p>“The police told me to take a rest,” he told her. “I’m going to take a short break. After I call work to take the day off, I’ll go out to look again.”<br />
<p>Douno poured himself a glass of tap water in the kitchen and drank it. He turned around to see Mariko standing dazed by the dining table.<br />
<p>“Have you eaten anything?”<br />
<p>She shook her head, then stared at Douno.<br />
<p>“You’re angry, aren’t you?” she whispered quietly.<br />
<p>“What?”<br />
<p>“You’re really angry at me. You’re angry because I fell asleep, because I wasn’t watching Honoka. You probably think none of this would have happened if I did my part properly―”<br />
<p>His wife’s lips were pressed firmly together in a line, and she was trembling. She looked like she would burst from the tension that seized her whole body. Douno had been so intent on searching for Honoka that he had neglected to think about how his wife would feel being left alone at home.<br />
<p>“I don’t think it’s your fault that Honoka went missing. I would probably have fallen asleep in your situation, too. Don’t beat yourself up.”<br />
<p>He gently embraced his wife’s tense body. Mariko clung to Douno and wept aloud. Douno comforted her like he would a child and laid her on the sofa. Mariko’s crying seemed to have released her built-up tension, for she fell asleep some moments later.<br />
<p>Douno called his work and explained to Tatsuta that his daughter had gone missing. If Honoka was not found, he would have to get several days off in a row. Tatsuta appeared shocked at the news, and was speechless at first.<br />
<p>“You don’t need to worry about work,” he eventually said. “I’ll do something about it. You focus on your daughter.”<br />
<p>Douno changed out of yesterday’s clothes and left the house with his wallet in hand. He bought sandwiches, rice balls, and tea at the neighbourhood convenience store and came back home. He left the food on the dining room table with a memo that read, “Make sure you eat something when you wake up.” As for himself, he only drank a can of coffee.<br />
<p>He had told Mariko to eat, but when he imagined how hungry Honoka must be at this moment, he could not bring himself to eat anything.<br />
<p>Douno continued to search the vicinity of his house like he had done last night. Before noon, he was called back by an officer who told him he had something he needed to discuss.<br />
<p>When Douno returned home, he was met with the officer who questioned him the previous day, along with a detective in his fifties. The man’s hair was thinning at the top. He was about as tall as Douno, but his beefy stature made him look stout. His eyebrows and eyes drooped slightly, and his gentle face resembled the god, Ebisu.<br />
<p>“Ehm, I’ll be handling your case. My name is Kashiwai. Nice to meet you.”<br />
<p>Kashiwai ducked his head. Douno and Mariko sat beside each other on the living room sofa, and Kashiwai sat across from them.<br />
<p>Kashiwai jumped right into his explanation. Throughout yesterday and this morning, they had searched almost every possible place within half a day’s walking distance for a four-year-old child. Since she had still not turned up after this much searching, they had concluded that it was unlikely she had wandered away. As there had also been no request for a ransom, it was more likely that this was an accident or a kidnapping for unsavoury purposes.<br />
<p>When Douno heard “unsavoury purposes”, he felt a shudder down his spine. To think of his own daughter in the hands of someone else―just the thought made him feel ill to the point of nausea.<br />
<p>“There might also be the possibility of a grudge. Has there been conflict with your relatives, acquaintances? Can you think of anything?”<br />
<p>“No,” Mariko replied immediately.<br />
<p>“And your husband?” Kashiwai encouraged. The groping incident flashed in the back of Douno’s mind.<br />
<p>“No. It’s just that...”<br />
<p>“Just that...?” Kashiwai repeated Douno’s words and looked up from taking notes in his notebook.<br />
<p>“I’ll go ahead and talk about it, since it would probably come up eventually. I was in prison for ten months.”<br />
<p>Kashiwai’s narrow eyes widened in surprise.<br />
<p>“I was accused of groping and I got a guilty verdict. But I’ll keep insisting on my innocence until the day I die. The first thing I thought of when you mentioned ‘grudge’ was the so-called victim at the time, the woman. But I don’t think she has anything to do with this case.”<br />
<p>“And why are you sure about that?”<br />
<p>“It happened about eight years ago, and I don’t think the woman knows my current address. I also lost a lot more to that incident than she did.”<br />
<p>Kashiwai scratched his balding head. “Alright, well, would I be able to get the name of that victim, just in case?”<br />
<p>“I don’t remember.”<br />
<p>“Huh?”<br />
<p>“Those were horrible memories for me. I had no freedom for close to two years while I was in the detention centre and in prison. It was... incredibly hard to go through, and I wanted so badly to forget... that I actually forgot.”<br />
<p>“Well, nothing we can’t look up,” Kashiwai muttered. “Well then, seeing as how a grudge is also an unlikely motive, would I be able to hear from both of you what you were doing at the time of Honoka’s disappearance? Starting with you, ma’am.”<br />
<p>While Mariko talked, Kashiwai jumped in at each moment with the question, “Is there someone who can testify to that?” which bothered Douno.<br />
<p>“Um―” Douno interrupted, wondering if it was rude to do so while his wife and Kashiwai were talking. “Are my wife and I under suspicion for kidnapping as well?”<br />
<p>Kashiwai narrowed his eyes even more. “Well, you see, this is our job. I hope you’ll bear with me,” he said briskly, bowing his head.<br />
<p>Eventually, Douno was also asked what he was doing when Honoka disappeared. Kashiwai’s questions were incredibly detailed, asking for things like the distance between Douno’s house and his work.<br />
<p>The doorbell rang partway through Douno and Kashiwai’s conversation. Mariko hastily got the door.<br />
<p>“Honey,” she called from the doorway. “It’s Mr. Kitagawa. What should I do? He’s been helping to look for Honoka since yesterday, hasn’t he? We can’t force him to keep helping us like this. Should I just tell him that we’ve decided to leave it to the police?”<br />
<p>“Oh, I’ll talk to Kitagawa myself.” Douno excused himself with a short apology to Kashiwai, and stood from his seat. At the door, he explained to Kitagawa that it did not seem to be a case of Honoka wandering off, and that they were going to leave the search to the police. Kitagawa exhaled shortly, his brow still furrowed in a difficult expression. His eyes were bloodshot from walking around with Douno all night.<br />
<p>“If Honoka’s found, I’ll contact you right away. So for now, I want you to go home and take a rest.”<br />
<p>“’Kay,” Kitagawa mumbled shortly, then went home. When Douno turned around, Kashiwai was peering over from behind the door to the kitchen.<br />
<p>“Who was that tall man?”<br />
<p>“He’s my friend. He lives nearby, and he’s very close to Honoka. He’s been helping us look for her ever since we found out she was missing.”<br />
<p>“Uh-huh,” Kashiwai nodded. “And have you known each other long?”<br />
<p>“Six... seven years, I think.”<br />
<p>“Oh?” Mariko murmured. “Didn’t you say he was your friend from high school?”<br />
<p>Douno’s heart jumped. He had forgotten about his lie.<br />
<p>“Oh, right. Sorry, I was thinking of something else. ―We’ve known each other for close to twenty years now.”<br />
<p>“We might have a chance to talk to him later on,” Kashiwai explained, and wrote down Kitagawa’s name and address.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/07/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-13.html">PART 13</a>.</center><br />
<b>Notes</b><br />
<ol><li id="box1">Changed slightly. In the original Japanese, Douno asks, “Who dies?” and Kitagawa answers, “Me”, which would make no sense in English. <a href="#box1r">(back)</a></li>
</ol><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-72311270101324315612013-07-07T15:21:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.439-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 11("Out of the Cage" Part 1)<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-10.html">PART 10</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>OUT OF THE CAGE</center><br />
<br />
It was warmer outside than he thought―enough to make him think he did not need the coat he had worn out that day. Takafumi Douno was sitting on a park bench, absently watching his daughter, Honoka, play in the sand. She was turning four this year.<br />
<p>The three of them had gone out shopping when his wife, Mariko, said she had forgotten to buy something. When she explained that it was dish detergent, Douno offered to go back and buy it for her.<br />
<p>“But you don’t know which brand we use, do you?” Mariko had answered him, hunching her shoulders.<br />
<p>Schools were out for the spring holidays, and it was a sunny Sunday afternoon. There were many children in the park who looked about primary-school age. Douno remembered Mariko mentioning she wanted a second child. He liked children and they were dear to him, but his low salary made it hard to say yes.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“Daddy, come here!” He went to the sandbox where his daughter beckoned. In it was a misshapen triangle made of sand.<br />
<p>“Honoka’s house,” she tilted her head and grinned. Douno bent down and brushed the sand off her checkered dress and hands.<br />
<p>“Mommy’s coming back soon,” he told her. “Why don’t we wait at the bench over there?” Just as he began to lead his daughter by the hand to the bench where their shopping bags were set down, a voice called him from behind.<br />
<p>“Excuse me―” Douno turned around to see a tall man standing there. The man thrust a map out towards him, his head slightly bowed.<br />
<p>“I want you tell me―is this park where I’m in right now?”<br />
<p>Douno remembered that voice. <i>Could it be―?</i> He stared hard at the man in front of him. It had been six years since then, and his hair had grown out. His head was not shaved anymore. He was also not wearing a grey prison uniform, but a normal white shirt and black pants.<br />
<p>“I don’t understand this map, and I can’t read the <acronym title="Chinese characters used in the Japanese language. Almost all place names and names of people are in kanji."><i>kanji</i></acronym>.” The man looked up at him. His eyes snapped open in surprise.<br />
<p>“Takafumi.”<br />
<p>When Kitagawa called his name, Douno felt both happiness and uncertainty swell in his chest in a tangled mass.<br />
<p>“Takafumi, Takafumi!” The wind was knocked out of him as he was met with an embrace. He felt his spine tingle. The man’s arms were also shaking slightly as they encircling his shoulders.<br />
<p>“I’ve―I’ve finally found you.”<br />
<p>A middle-aged woman passed by, looking at them apprehensively. Douno realized how abnormal it was for two men to be hugging like this.<br />
<p>“Let go of me for a minute―I can’t breathe,” was his excuse as he pushed the man’s shoulders away.<br />
<p>Kitagawa wore a boyish grin from ear to ear as he stroked Douno’s cheek with his thumb.<br />
<p>“Your hair is longer. And you’ve gotten old. Your face looks different.”<br />
<p>Douno smiled wryly at being called old.<br />
<p>“I’m only thirty-six,” he said.<br />
<p>“I turned thirty-four.” Kitagawa gripped Douno’s left hand. “Take me to your house. I have so many things I want to tell you. Oh, I should’ve brought my notebook. I drew tons of pictures. Everyone who sees them says they’re nice, so I’m sure you’ll―”<br />
<p>“Daddy.”<br />
<p>The man stopped talking at Honoka’s voice. He furrowed his brow and stared down at Douno’s young daughter.<br />
<p>“Who’s this little kid?”<br />
<p>Douno’s hand trembled as it sat on his daughter’s shoulder. Kitagawa had approached him just as he would have six years ago, but Douno did not know how the man would respond to being told the truth. Douno was afraid. But he could not keep silent forever; Kitagawa would find out eventually anyway.<br />
<p>“She’s my daughter.”<br />
<p>The man’s mouth twitched.<br />
<p>“I got married five years ago.”<br />
<p>The man’s eyes, which had been glowing with happiness, clouded grey in an instant. His gaze wandered left and right as if he were lost, then he hung his head. His grip on Douno’s left hand tightened, as if he were angry. Detached, yet passionate―memories of this man’s violence resurfaced in Douno’s mind, making him shudder.<br />
<p>“You were always on my mind,” Douno said hesitantly. “I was wondering what you’ve been up to since getting out. So I’m happy I was able to see you again.” He did not mean to be sucking up. His feelings were sincere, yet his voice sounded even to his own ears like he was making excuses.<br />
<p>“What kind of work do you do now? Are you getting along with your co-workers? I’m happy to hear you still draw. You were really good at it.”<br />
<p>He was intimidated by the man’s gaze, which almost looked like a glare. He forced his words out anyway.<br />
<p>“I’m glad you seem to be doing well.”<br />
<p>“Honey,” he heard Mariko’s voice calling from afar. He turned around to see her coming at a jog with a small plastic bag in hand.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry I ended up taking so long. I remembered all sorts of other things we forgot to buy.”<br />
<p>Douno hastily let go of Kitagawa’s hand as he saw Mariko’s gaze fix on their linked hands. A strand of hair had fallen across Mariko’s cheek, and she tucked it behind her ear as she tilted her head.<br />
<p>“Is that gentleman someone you know?”<br />
<p>“Oh―yeah. He’s an old friend, and we just bumped into each other.”<br />
<p>“I see,” Mariko murmured. “Hello. Nice to meet you, I’m Douno’s wife,” she said in greeting. The man stared silently at Mariko. Mariko, flustered at being stared at with no answer, glanced nervously at Douno.<br />
<p>Honoka clung to his wife’s legs. “Pick-up!” she said, pulling her skirt. <br />
<p>“Oh my, aren’t you a little baby,” teased Mariko, picking Honoka up in her arms. The awkwardness of the silence seemed to lift a little.<br />
<p>“Honey, if you’re going to have a talk with your friend, should I head home first?”<br />
<p><i>I don’t want to be alone with him.</i> It was Douno’s honest thought. He was happy to see Kitagawa. He really was. But once they were alone, who knew what the man might say?<br />
<p>“No, uh...” Douno mumbled incoherently.<br />
<p>“I’m going home,” the man muttered. “I live far away. I’m going back.”<br />
<p>“Where did you come from?” asked Mariko.<br />
<p>“Shizuoka,” the man answered without looking up.<br />
<p>“From so far away! Are you here for work?”<br />
<p>The man fell silent again. Suddenly, he lifted his head and looked at Douno.<br />
<p>“Tell me your address.”<br />
<p>“Hold on, I need something to write with, and some paper...” Douno automatically reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, even though there was nothing there. At work, he always kept a pen in that pocket.<br />
<p>“I’ll just memorize it. It’s not much.”<br />
<p>Douno’s fading memories of prison came back to him. As a principle rule, inmates were not allowed to exchange addresses, in order to avoid conflict after getting out. If even a scrap of paper with an address was found on an inmate, he would be punished. Everyone memorized the addresses of people they needed to contact once they were out of prison.<br />
<p>When Douno told him his address, the man listened but did not confirm or ask to hear it again. His mouth moved voicelessly, as if to recite it to himself. As soon as his lips stopped, he turned his back to Douno and walked away.<br />
<p>He never said “See you again” or “Goodbye.”<br />
<p>“He’s kind of different,” Mariko murmured, once the man’s white shirt was nowhere to be seen in the park. “And he seemed a little scary.”<br />
<p>Douno could not argue, knowing how overpowering the full force of Kitagawa’s anger could be.<br />
<p>Once they returned to their apartment, Douno played with their daughter while his wife prepared dinner. While he kept his daughter company, Douno thought about Kei Kitagawa.<br />
<p>Douno and Kitagawa had spent about nine months together in the same prison cell. Douno had been imprisoned on groping charges even though he had done nothing―it had been a false accusation. Kitagawa had served time for close to ten years for murder, and he was an expert at prison life.<br />
<p>Even though he was skilled at getting by in prison, Kitagawa did not know how to believe in people, how to love; he did not know what it felt like to receive kindness. Douno felt as if his unhappy upbringing, absent of a loving mother, had something to do with his crime. Even in prison, Kitgawa was always surrounded by inmates who were only concerned about taking advantage of people’s weaknesses to make a profit.<br />
<p>Douno had reached out, wanting to become closer with him. At first, Kitagawa responded like a wild animal, with apprehension.<br />
<p>But once the binding cords fell away from his heart, Kitagawa began to like him more than as a friend. He had whispered “I love you” even though were both men, and he had even begun talking about living together once they were out of prison.<br />
<p>Days before Douno’s release, Kitagawa had gotten into a fistfight in their cell and been sent into punishment. Douno emerged from prison without saying good-bye or exchanging promises. He did not tell Kitagawa his address. If he had really wanted to, he could have asked a trustworthy inmate who lived in the same cell as him. But he had not.<br />
<p>If they had been able to get on as friends, if Kitagawa had not told him he loved him, if he had was not so violently emotional that he was blinded to anything else when it came to Douno, he would have wanted to keep in contact even after Kitagawa was out of prison. Douno liked Kei Kitagawa as a person, but those feelings were not equal to those of love.<br />
<p>Douno could not accept the man and his love with open arms, so he decided not to see him. He did not tell Kitagawa his address, and he did not pick Kitagawa up on the day of his release.<br />
<p>But his feelings remained. The feelings Kitagawa had shown him, his own feelings of wanting to do something for Kitagawa, remained with him.<br />
<p>When they reunited after six years, Kitagawa had not changed at all. His demeanour, the way he talked. But what about his feelings? Did Kitagawa still love him and want to live with him?<br />
<p>Did he perhaps think he’d been betrayed? <i>I loved him so much, but he went and got married. Even had children.</i> If that was how he really felt, would his anger and hatred at being betrayed drive him to do something serious? Like how he had attacked the inmate who made advances on Douno in their cell and punched him until he went limp?<br />
<p><i>I’m happy to see him. I’m glad to see he’s doing well.</i> Douno’s feelings were not false, yet he found himself afraid of Kitagawa. The man was blinded by his temper sometimes, but Douno knew Kitagawa was not underhanded. He was certain that Kitagawa would not harm his family out of vengeance, but still, he was unable to deny the possibility. Human feelings were prone to influence and change.<br />
<p>He had told Kitagawa his address. If Kitagawa wanted to know, did that mean he planned to come again? Perhaps it had been better not to tell him. But in that situation, Douno knew he would have been unable to say no.<br />
<p>Douno hugged his daughter as she sat in his lap. He prayed that his reunion with Kitagawa would not threaten this modest happiness he had found.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The next day after their reunion, Douno’s mind was full of thoughts about Kitagawa for the entire day. Even while he was working, he felt like Kitagawa would suddenly appear from the shadows, and his foolish thoughts made him restless. His senior, Tatsuta, seemed to observe it as a sign of giddiness, for he teased Douno and asked him if anything good had happened lately.<br />
<p>After getting out of prison, Douno found new employment as an accounting clerk at Iwai Foods through the help of a support group for those falsely-accused of groping. He had once worked as an accountant for city hall, and working with numbers was something he was good at. If he had anything to complain about, it was his low salary and the fact that he got barely any extra pay for overtime.<br />
<p>Tatsuta, a caring and considerate man, knew about Douno’s situation. Tatsuta himself had past experiences of being victim to the police’s unfair and overbearing questioning practices, and understood what Douno was going through. It was a great relief for Douno to not have to hide his past.<br />
<p>In the end, Kitagawa did not appear in front of Douno at all that day. It was not until evening the Douno realized it would have been impossible for Kitagawa to come anyway, especially after yesterday; if the man worked, it would be even harder to come down from Shizuoka on a weekday.<br />
<p>Two days passed, then three. Even after a week, there was no communication from Kitagawa. Since he did not know Douno’s phone number, the only methods he had of contacting him was a direct visit or a letter. But Douno received neither.<br />
<p>The cherry blossoms finished blooming beautifully. They fell and were replaced by deep green leaves, and <acronym title="A series of national holidays from the end of April to the beginning of May. Since they are only one or two days apart, usually companies will take the whole week off.">Golden Week</acronym> was just days away. By this time, Douno had begun to think he would never see Kitagawa again.<br />
<p>Had the man’s feelings diminished from seeing the reality of Douno in a marriage, or had he been happy enough to see him just once?<br />
<p>Douno wondered if their brief reunion in the park had been their last, and he forgot how afraid he was, or how he had feared for his family’s safety. A loneliness welled up inside his chest. He wanted to try sending a letter, but since he had missed asking for Kitagawa’s address, he could not send one even if he wanted to.<br />
<p>The skipping-stone series of Golden Week holidays passed as they entered mid-May. Douno came home one day to a dinner of cold <acronym title="Buckwheat noodles, served in cold broth in warm weather. A popular summertime food."><i>soba</i></acronym>.<br />
<p>“<i>Soba</i> today? Looks good.”<br />
<p>It had been very hot during the day. Though still a little early in the season, as Douno took off his suit jacket he felt that these kinds of dishes would become more and more attractive with the warmer weather.<br />
<p>“It’s <acronym title="A custom of handing out soba to new neighbours when moving in, as a way of introduction. The thin, long noodles symbolize the wish for a long-lasting relationship, and the word “soba” can also mean “close by” or “nearby”.">move-in <i>soba</i></acronym>,” Mariko said as she took Douno’s jacket from him.<br />
<p>“Oh, really?” Douno said as he loosened his tie. “What kind of neighbours are they?”<br />
<p>“He doesn’t live in this building. It’s from your friend, Mr. Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>“What?” Douno asked in disbelief.<br />
<p>“He brought it for us because he moved nearby.”<br />
<p>Douno felt a foreboding chill run down his spine.<br />
<p>“When was this?”<br />
<p>“About two hours ago, I think. He asked if you were home, and when I told him you were still at work, he left.”<br />
<p>“His address―do you know his address?”<br />
<p>“I got his telephone number so you could thank him later,” Mariko said.<br />
<p>Douno got the note from her and ran into his bedroom. With his cell phone in one hand, he stared at the memo. All he had to do was call this number, and it would get through to Kitagawa. He would be able to talk to him. As a responsible adult, he had to thank Kitagawa for the gift, at least.<br />
<p>Douno’s fingers shook as they clenched around the phone. When Kitagawa didn’t come, Douno wanted to see him and talk to him. But when he came too close, he suddenly felt afraid. Kitagawa lived all the way in Shizuoka―why had he moved in close by? What was the meaning behind his moving in close to Douno? What was he planning to do? Douno had no idea what the man was thinking―not the faintest clue.<br />
<p>Douno was unable to steel himself enough to hear Kitagawa’s voice that day. He made the phone call instead on the next day, past eleven at night, because he felt like the more time he allowed to pass, the harder it would get to talk to Kitagawa. If he was going to thank the man for the <i>soba</i>, he preferred it to be sooner than later.<br />
<p>“I’m going out to buy some beer,” he told his wife, and walked out with his phone in hand. Suddenly, it began to drizzle, and Douno hurriedly climbed into the family car in the parking lot. It was an old subcompact car, and the driver’s seat was cramped. Mariko had been talking about wanting a standard-sized car, but they were not financially comfortable enough to afford to get a new one.<br />
<p>Douno retrieved the note from his pocket and dialled the number. He could feel the pulse thudding in his fingers as the phone rang. On the fifth ring, he heard the phone being picked up. It was such a small thing, yet the tension was enough to make his heart almost stop.<br />
<p>“Hello?” The voice answered in tremendously bad humour.<br />
<p>“This is Douno speaking. Is this Mr. Kitagawa’s residence?”<br />
<p>“Oh, it’s you.” Douno heard a stifled yawn on the other end. “I was wondering who was calling so late.”<br />
<p>Douno hastily turned on the cabin light and checked his watch. It was five past eleven. For Douno, it was still early in the night, but perhaps Kitagawa had not yet grown out of his schedule in prison, where the lights were out at nine. If so, Douno would have woken him up from his sleep.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry for calling so late. I won’t keep you for long. Thank you for the <i>soba</i> yesterday. I was surprised to hear you moved nearby.”<br />
<p>“I wanted to be close to you.”<br />
<p>Douno had already predicted his answer. <i>I knew it</i>, he couldn’t help but think at the man’s frank reply. Douno pressed his right hand against his forehead and closed his eyes.<br />
<p>“I’ve told you this already, but I’m married now.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, I know.”<br />
<p>“So... well... that means I can’t be with you like I used to be.”<br />
<p>When Douno and Kitagawa had lived in the same prison cell together, kissing and physical contact had been everyday things. Douno was not able to refuse when Kitagawa made moves to touch him. They were in a male-only environment, where even masturbation was prohibited. In this situation, even a man’s touch was enough to make Douno erect, and drive him to ejaculate. Douno had had anal sex with the man once, but that was because he could not fight back against him, not because he had wanted it.<br />
<p>Just because he had been on intimate terms with a man did not mean that Douno was gay. Once he got out of prison and returned to society, all the people Douno found cute or sexually attractive were women.<br />
<p>There was no answer from Kitagawa. As the silence wore on, Douno stared absently at the droplets of rain hitting and bouncing off his windshield.<br />
<p>“I thought about it after I went back to Shizuoka,” Kitagawa said. “I’ve been working at the same factory as Shiba since last year, and I told him about it, too. He said, ‘Douno has his own life now. You need to give up and find yourself a nice wife.’”<br />
<p>Shiba was an inmate who had lived with Douno and Kitagawa in the same cell. He had been in his mid-fifties then; he was probably past sixty now. Douno did not expect to hear that Shiba and Kitagawa were still in contact.<br />
<p>“Shiba bought me a prostitute to liven things up. I made her suck my cock, then I boned her. I wonder how much it cost for those two hours. Anyway, before she went home, I told her she wasn’t any different from my right hand, and she started crying.” Kitagawa’s voice was flat and regular.<br />
<p>“When I told Shiba that, he told me I should’ve been nice to her because she was just doing her job. How was I supposed to be nice to a girl who lets me bone her and charges every two hours? Was I supposed to treat her to some desserts afterwards, or what? What do you think?”<br />
<p>Douno had no way to answer that.<br />
<p>“Well,” he began, “I think it’s very hard for a girl to have to give herself to someone she doesn’t even love. But she’s set that aside in order to do her job, so you would have to be considerate of her feelings, and... you probably should have avoided talking about the actual act.”<br />
<p><i>Mm-hmm</i>, Kitagawa responded. “I still don’t really get it, though.”<br />
<p>The rain was coming down harder. It made a racket as it drummed against the windshield and rooftop of the car.<br />
<p>“Is it raining over there?”<br />
<p>“Yes, it is,” Douno answered.<br />
<p>“When I told Shiba I was moving close to your house, he was against it. He asked me what I was planning to do there. ‘Even if you’re with him, Douno won’t be your Douno anymore. He has a wife and kid. A man should know when to back off,’ he said.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa cut off his sentence.<br />
<p>“I’m at least allowed to be close to you, aren’t I? Even if you have a family?” His words sounded detached. “Can’t I be allowed to think that when it’s raining where I am, it’ll be raining where you are? Can’t I be close enough to walk over when I want to see your face?”<br />
<p><i>I just want to be close―to be near you.</i> The man’s plaintive plea moved Douno’s heart deeply. Yet he had no idea if being close was a good thing for either Kitagawa or himself.<br />
<p>He could not return Kitagawa’s feelings―this much was clear. But if he let Kitagawa remain like this, remain attached to him, would it not be stealing away Kitagawa’s precious time?<br />
<p>Douno also had another small seed of worry. The man had said it was enough just to be close, just to see his face, but would he really be satisfied with just that? Once they were close, once they started talking... wouldn’t Kitagawa begin to seek him physically, unable to hold in his desire?<br />
<p>“I searched for you once I got out of jail,” Kitagawa continued. “I couldn’t do it alone, so I asked detectives to do it. Apart from buying food, I used all the money I made to pay them. Detectives cost a hell of a lot of money, so I worked every day. There were easier ways to make money without having to do so much work, but if I got thrown into jail again I wouldn’t be able to see you even if I found you. So I told myself I couldn’t. People told me I was just wasting my money. But even then, I still wanted to see you.”<br />
<p>“But,” he continued, “my searching and wanting to see you is a one-sided thing. I love you, and as long as I have you I don’t need anything else. But you don’t love me as much as that.”<br />
<p>Douno’s breath caught in his throat.<br />
<p>“That’s what you mean, right?”<br />
<p>Douno’s hand shook as he held his cell phone.<br />
<p>“I thought I’d be free once I was out. I thought I’d be able to sleep with you all I wanted. But now I feel like you were closer to me in there than you are now.”<br />
<p>“...It’s getting late,” Douno said after a long silence, and hung up on Kitagawa with that excuse. Still clutching his phone, he slumped over the steering wheel.<br />
<p>There was nothing he could do even if Kitagawa blamed him for not loving him back. For Douno, it was the truth. The feelings Kitagawa harboured for him pained him. The faithfulness thrust upon him was unbearably heavy.<br />
<p><i>I have to get back soon, or else Mariko will worry.</i> Yet for a long time afterwards, Douno was unable to move from his car.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>It was a chilly day, and it had been raining since morning. It hardly seemed like the end of May, when summer was beginning. It was cold enough to want a heater. Douno finished work early for once that day, at six in the evening. At the entrance to the office, he parted with Tatsuta, who was taking the train home. He went around to the employee parking lot behind the building. He had pinned his umbrella between his shoulder and neck while opening his bag to fish out his car keys when a voice called him from behind.<br />
<p>“Hey.”<br />
<p>Thinking it was Tatsuta, Douno turned around. It was Kitagawa. Douno’s shock made him drop his bag, which tipped over on its side on the wet ground. His empty lunchbox flew out of the open bag and slid across the ground to the feet of the man standing across from him.<br />
<p>As Douno picked up his bag, his empty lunchbox was thrust into his face.<br />
<p>“Th-Thank you.” He took it hastily. Kitagawa was wearing a white shirt and black pants, and holding a clear plastic umbrella usually sold in convenience stores.<br />
<p>“I came to see you.”<br />
<p>Douno had no idea what to do in response to that. He stood at a loss, with his bag still in his arms. The rain showed no signs of letting up, and he could feel his feet getting wet just standing there. He noticed Kitagawa’s pants were darker from the knees down because they were wet as well.<br />
<p>“Let’s get in the car for now. It’s raining really hard.”<br />
<p>“Okay,” Kitagawa answered, and climbed into the passenger seat as he was told. Douno slid into the driver’s seat and put his things in the back seat. He started the car and turned on the heater. He was cold himself, but Kitagawa also looked quite cold as he hugged his shoulders and shivered.<br />
<p>“I’m surprised you knew where I worked.”<br />
<p>“I’ve followed you before. That’s why I know what time you leave the house, what kind of car you drive, and where you work.”<br />
<p>It was definitely not pleasant to know that he had been followed without knowledge, but watching Kitagawa’s eyes crinkle as he grinned blissfully made Douno reluctant to reprimand him.<br />
<p>“You didn’t have to go through the trouble of following me. You should have just asked.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa tilted his head. “I don’t like the phone. And besides, it was fun. I felt like I was a detective.”<br />
<p>It had warmed up in the car, for the man beside him stopped shivering.<br />
<p>“Didn’t you wait a pretty long time?”<br />
<p>“Dunno,” Kitagawa cocked his head. “I don’t have a watch. It was past three when I got on the bus, came here, and made sure you car was here...”<br />
<p>So he had been waiting at least two hours in this rain.<br />
<p>“Next time, you should just call my cell. That way, you wouldn’t have to wait for hours.”<br />
<p>“I told you I don’t like the phone,” Kitagawa said adamantly. Douno had no choice but to back off. The raindrops made pattering sounds against the windshield. He remembered their conversation on the phone about two weeks before. It had been raining then, too.<br />
<p>“How have you been doing since moving here? Have you settled down?” Douno began with general small-talk. The silence between them was more awkward when they were sitting beside each other instead of talking over the phone.<br />
<p>“I dunno. It’s hard to tell. Work is the same wherever I go.”<br />
<p>“Where do you work?”<br />
<p>“Construction sites,” Kitagawa answered. “Digging holes and carrying dirt. When it rains, work gets cancelled. A lot of the time I show up at the site to be told I’m off work today.”<br />
<p>“I see,” Douno nodded. He felt Kitagawa staring at him steadily. Unable to bear his pointed gaze, Douno averted his eyes.<br />
<p>“I like small spaces,” Kitagawa murmured. “You’re closer to me.”<br />
<p>Douno had a foreboding feeling that Kitagawa was going to make advances on him. Kitagawa did not consider the gazes of those around him. Douno vividly recalled memories of Kitagawa as he sought Douno in their cell in the middle of the day, where other inmates were present.<br />
<p>Douno hastily changed gears and drove the car out. He figured Kitagawa would not try to touch him if he was driving.<br />
<p>“Hey, come over to my place,” Kitagawa said to him as Douno drove. “Get takeout or something, and come over.”<br />
<p>Douno had a feeling Kitagawa would force himself onto him physically if he went over to the man’s house. Besides, Kitagawa was taller and physically stronger. Even if Douno refused―he had a feeling Kitagawa would go ahead and do it, anyway.<br />
<p>“My wife, she’s probably already made dinner. She’ll be waiting for me.”<br />
<p>“Uh-huh,” Kitagawa sniffed. Douno swallowed hard. <br />
<p>“I can’t eat with you today, but maybe another day we can go out to eat together. To an <i>izakaya</i>, or something.”<br />
<p>There was no answer. Kitagawa seemed sullen at being refused by Douno.<br />
<p>“So, uh, do you cook yourself? You’re good with your hands, I can imagine you’d be good at anyth―”<br />
<p>“I don’t,” Kitagawa replied almost irritably.<br />
<p>“O-Oh. I see. Then what do you usually eat? Do you go out, or...”<br />
<p>“Yoshi-chan’s Bento.”<br />
<p>Douno couldn’t help but turn his head.<br />
<p>“What’s Yoshi-chan’s Bento?”<br />
<p>“There’s a takeout place near my house. They’re open ‘til nine. Yoshi-chan’s Bento gives you a lot of food for only 290 yen.”<br />
<p>“Do you eat there every day?” Douno asked hesitantly.<br />
<p>“Yeah. It’s cheap. The main dishes are deep-fried, so it keeps me full longer.”<br />
<p>“Eating ready-made food every day isn’t very nutritious.”<br />
<p>Although they had no choice of meals in prison, they were at least nutritionally-balanced, and the dishes changed every day. It seemed Kitagawa had not taken the trouble to do so for his own meals once he was out and by himself. The silence wore on, and Douno had just begun to wonder if he had made Kitagawa angry by nagging him about nutrition and such.<br />
<p>“What’s ready-made?” Kitagawa asked.<br />
<p>“Food they make in the store to sell. Like bento boxes, or takeout.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa muttered, then slid down in his seat. It was natural enough for the man not to know certain words; although he had a middle-school education, he had barely attended school.<br />
<p>Douno remembered Kitagawa saying he had been locked into a small room when he was younger, and had his meals thrown in from the window. It was unlikely he had been fed homemade dishes or nutritious meals under those circumstances. That made Kitagawa’s lack of consideration for what he ate understandable.<br />
<p>Kei Kitagawa was a man who had been an unhappy child, betrayed and unloved by his parents. He did not know what it was like to believe in people, to love, or to receive kindness from others. He knew so pitifully little that it was heart-wrenching―wasn’t that the reason why Douno wanted to do something for this man, to be involved with his life?<br />
<p>Douno gripped the steering wheel.<br />
<p>“Let’s eat dinner at my house today, though it won’t be anything special,” he said.<br />
<p>The car stopped at a traffic light. When Douno looked over at the man beside him, his brow was furrowed.<br />
<p>“Why your house?”<br />
<p>“You always eat the same takeout meal, don’t you? I figured it wouldn’t be a bad experience for you to taste some home cooking. I won’t force you, though.”<br />
<p>Even after the car lurched into motion again, there was no answer from him. Douno drove steadfastly back to his house without bringing up another topic, and waited for the other man’s response. If Kitagawa did not want to, he would say so. He was not answering because he was having trouble deciding.<br />
<p>Douno parked the car in the parking lot below his apartment. The rain had stopped already. Kitagawa had still not decided on whether he was going or not. With the engine still running, Douno asked him again.<br />
<p>“Do you want to come over?”<br />
<p>“What’ll you do if I say I won’t?” Kitagawa asked, peering up at him from beneath his eyebrows.<br />
<p>“I’ll drive you home.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa ran his hand through his short hair several times. He stamped his feet irritably, but did not say he wasn’t coming.<br />
<p>“But your family is at your house,” he mumbled. “Why’re you trying to take me there? I waited two weeks, like I was supposed to. I was excited for today since morning, because I’d be able to eat with you in the evening, and...”<br />
<p>Kitagawa shook his head in frustration as he spoke. He was right: Douno realized that perhaps in Kitagawa’s position, having a meal with the family of the man he loved would feel like being rubbed in the face with failure.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry. I’ll drive you home.”<br />
<p>Just as Douno put his hand on the parking brake, the door opened on the passenger side. Kitagawa jumped out of the car. Douno hastily shut off the ignition. He thought Kitagawa would take off and disappear, but he stood stock-still in his spot.<br />
<p>Douno took his bag and lunch box from the back seat.<br />
<p>“...Do you want to come with me?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa only glared at him without saying anything, and did not nod. Douno walked towards the building stairs to see what would happen. When he looked back, the man was following him. Douno climbed all the way up the stairs, then turned around again. The man was still following.<br />
<p>“I’m home.”<br />
<p>When he opened the door, he was greeted with a whiff of curry. <br />
<p>“Welcome home,” he heard Mariko’s voice call from the kitchen further inside. Honoka came running down the hallway towards him, her small footsteps making pattering sounds on the floor.<br />
<p>“Daddy, daddy, pick me up!” His affectionate daughter thrust both her hands out. “Hurry, hurry,” she rushed him, unable to wait for him to take off his shoes. Douno picked her up, and looked steadily at Kitagawa standing in the doorway.<br />
<p>“You’ve met him before, remember? This is Mr. Kitagawa, daddy’s friend. Say hello.” He patted Honoka on the back.<br />
<p>“Hullo,” she mumbled in a small voice, then buried her face in Douno’s shoulder shyly.<br />
<p>“It’s a small place, but come on in.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa slowly took off his shoes. He was barefoot and without socks.<br />
<p>When they entered the kitchen, today’s dinner was indeed curry. It was not going to be a problem feeding an additional person.<br />
<p>“I’ve brought my friend over. Is it alright if he eats dinner with us?”<br />
<p>“What?” Mariko turned around in surprise.<br />
<p>“It’s Kitagawa, the one who brought us <i>soba</i> the other day.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stood at the entrance to the kitchen and showed no signs of coming in. Mariko tucked her hair behind her ear, suddenly conscious of any unruly strands on her head.<br />
<p>“Hello,” she smiled at Kitagawa. “Thank you so much for bringing us that delicious <i>soba</i> the other day.” Then, she fixed Douno with a disapproving glare.<br />
<p>“You should have phoned me if you were bringing a friend. I would have made something more decent than curry,” Mariko complained as she swiftly prepared a fourth portion.<br />
<p>“Need help?” Douno offered as he stood behind her. Mariko turned around.<br />
<p>“You gentlemen can have a chat while you wait,” she said with a wink.<br />
<p>“We’ll be able to eat soon,” Douno told Kitagawa. “Do you want to wait in the living room? It’s right here.”<br />
<p>At Douno’s encouragement, Kitagawa finally began to walk. With every step he took, his bare feet made pattering sounds on the floor.<br />
<p>They sat down across from each other on the sofa in the living room. Kitagawa kept his eyes on his feet and did not look up. He had not spoken a word since entering the house.<br />
<p>Honoka was sitting in Douno’s lap, but appeared interested in Kitagawa, who was across from them. She threw repeated glances in his direction. She climbed down from Douno’s lap and disappeared for some moments before returning with her favourite doll in her arms. She carefully crept up to the man across from her.<br />
<p>“This is Marin.”<br />
<p>She thrust the doll towards Kitagawa, who had lifted his face.<br />
<p>“Let’s play.”<br />
<p>The child, heedless of the awkward mood between the two men, sat the doll in the silent man’s lap. Douno felt like it would only make Kitagawa’s mood worse.<br />
<p>“Honoka, come over to daddy,” he called to her.<br />
<p>“I’ve never played with dolls before,” Kitagawa mumbled. Honoka sat the doll down beside Kitagawa, then went back to bring out a drawing pad and pen.<br />
<p>“Then you can draw pictures.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa took the pen hesitantly from her.<br />
<p>“Draw me a kitty-cat.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s brow remained furrowed in a difficult expression as his pen effortlessly sketched out a realistic-looking cat on the blank drawing pad. Honoka leaned in to peer at Kitagawa’s hands as he drew.<br />
<p>“Kitty-cat, kitty-cat,” she said happily.<br />
<p>Mariko called them partway through their drawing session. Apparently dinner was now ready. But even as Douno stood up, Kitagawa showed no signs of moving.<br />
<p>Douno knew he was being underhanded, but whispered to his daughter anyway.<br />
<p>“Honoka, can you lead our guest to the kitchen?”<br />
<p>“Yeeees,” Honoka answered in a loud voice. “This way, mister,” she said, taking Kitagawa’s hand and leading him to the kitchen.<br />
<p>At the dining table, Douno and Kitagawa sat beside each other while Mariko and Honoka sat across from them.<br />
<p>Today’s meal was curry rice and salad, typical dinner fare. Kitagawa sat staring, almost glaring, at the curry set out before him. He had never left curry uneaten in prison, so Douno was sure Kitagawa did not dislike it. Even so, he felt strangely nervous.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry this is all we have. I hope it’ll suit your tastes. Please, feel free to have as much as you like.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa glanced at Mariko, and seemed to incline his head a little.<br />
<p>“Thank you for the meal,” they all said, and all three of them, excluding Kitagawa, picked their spoons up. After Douno had swallowed his first mouthful, Kitagawa finally picked up his spoon. Within five minutes, he cleared off his curry and salad.<br />
<p>Honoka clapped her hands in glee at the sight.<br />
<p>“So fast! So fast!” she said. Mariko looked astonished. Douno knew Kitagawa’s fast eating were lasting effects from his life in prison, where time was limited for everything, but Mariko did not know.<br />
<p>“Um... would you like seconds?” she offered.<br />
<p>Kitagawa shook his head. Mariko glanced at Douno. He nodded shallowly, hoping she would understand that she did not have to insist. <br />
<p>“You’re going to eat lots like Mr. Kitagawa, too, right, Honoka?” Mariko petted Honoka’s head. Children her age tended to have trouble concentrating for long periods of time; she often took long to finish her meals because she would be distracted by play. But perhaps Kitagawa had influenced her today, for Honoka was eating with intense concentration.<br />
<p>“What kind of work do you to, Mr. Kitagawa?” Mariko asked while wiping Honoka’s mouth. <br />
<p>“Construction,” Kitagawa muttered.<br />
<p>“He works at construction sites,” Douno jumped in, filling in the words missing from the beginning and end of Kitagawa’s sentence. <br />
<p>“How long have you been friends with my husband? I don’t think I saw you at our wedding.” Douno perceived what his wife was wanting to ask, and answered ahead of Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“He―he was my junior in high school. I had a hard time getting in touch with him after graduation.”<br />
<p>“I see,” Mariko answered. She did not seem to doubt his explanation about Kitagawa being his underclassman. Kitagawa glanced at Douno with a questioning look, but did not try to correct his lie.<br />
<p>After everyone finished dinner, they moved to the living room. Honoka clung to Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“Draw me pictures, draw me pictures,” she begged. Mariko, who was washing the dishes in the kitchen, called Honoka back out of consideration for Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“Honoka, you’re going to help mommy with the dishes,” she said, but Honoka did not listen.<br />
<p>Kitagawa obeyed Honoka’s requests and drew all manners of pictures on the notepad. When she said “bunny-rabbit”, he drew a rabbit; when she said “Mr. Elephant”, he drew an elephant. When she said “castle”, he drew a towering Japanese castle with <acronym title="A fictional animal with the head of a tiger and body of a carp. Often found as protective ornaments, on the rooftops of temples and castles."><i>shachihoko</i></acronym> ornaments, was promptly shot down with a “Noooooo” from Honoka, and was seen scratching the back of his head in confusion.<br />
<p>Mariko came into the living room once she finished cleaning up, and leaned down to peer at Kitagawa’s pictures.<br />
<p>“You’re very good at drawing,” she said with awe. “Did you ever study art?”<br />
<p>The man shook his head silently. Kitagawa barely spoke to Douno or Mariko, and drew picture after picture in silence at Honoka’s request. When it struck nine o’clock, both Kitagawa and Honoka yawned in tandem. Judging by Kitagawa’s work cycle, Douno imagined it would almost be time for him to sleep.<br />
<p>“It’s late. Do you want me to drive you home?” he offered.<br />
<p>Kitagawa put the pen and pad down on the table and stood up. Honoka, whose eyelids had been drooping sleepily as she sat beside the artist, appeared to sense him leaving.<br />
<p>“Draw me a whale,” she said, grabbing Kitagawa’s hand to stop him.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa has to go home now,” Mariko told her.<br />
<p>“No, no,” Honoka protested, clinging onto Kitagawa’s legs.<br />
<p>Mariko peeled the whining girl off of Kitagawa, and Honoka burst into loud tears. Douno ushered Kitagawa to the door, the man turning back every so often as if reluctant to leave. They exited the house together.<br />
<p>“She’s our only child, so we can’t help but give in. That’s why she can be a bit selfish. Sorry you had to put up with her games,” Douno said to the man behind him as he went down the stairs ahead of Kitagawa. “We have to start teaching her that she can’t always get what she wants.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa was silent. He had said barely anything, so it was hard to tell what he had thought about the visit. Douno walked towards the parking lot, intending to drive Kitagawa home.<br />
<p>“We can just walk,” Kitagawa said.<br />
<p>“Walk?”<br />
<p>“It won’t even take ten minutes.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa set off ahead of him, and Douno hastily trailed behind. They walked side-by-side through the quiet neighbourhood. A car passed them occasionally, but there were no people. There were puddles here and there, perhaps from the rain in the daytime. Douno avoided the puddles as they walked along, but Kitagawa splashed through them heedlessly.<br />
<p>“How was the curry?” Douno asked.<br />
<p>“Good,” Kitagawa answered shortly.<br />
<p>“You should come over to eat again. I’ll ask Mariko to make something more interesting next time.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stopped in his tracks.<br />
<p>“That place is your house.” His words were stiff. “I don’t belong there.”<br />
<p>Douno did not understand what he meant.<br />
<p>“Do you mean you feel ostracized when you’re at my house?”<br />
<p>“What’s ‘ostracized’? How the hell would I know?” Kitagawa kicked his right heel into the ground in frustration. “The curry that your wife made was good. The kid was cute. But my feelings are different from that. I don’t really want to see your house. It doesn’t belong to me, and when I see things like that, I really... feel like you’re far away. Like I’m a different-coloured balloon from everyone else.”<br />
<p><i>I don’t belong there.</i> Douno felt like he could understand now what the man meant. <br />
<p>“Shiba told me, ‘It’s up to you to go over there, but don’t cause trouble for Douno. If you’re gonna see him, keep it once every two, three weeks.’ I figured that’s just how things worked, so I waited for two weeks after your phone call and went to see you. I thought about a lot of things while I was waiting. I’d bring you over to my house, and we’d eat together, and we’d talk. I had it all planned out, but now it’s all ruined. I was so excited for today, and just when I finally get to see your face, you go on saying crap like you’ll send me home unless I go to your house. So I either had to put up with it to be with you, or go home and wait another two weeks. It’s the worst.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa repeatedly kicked the hydro pole beside him with his heel. He kicked it over and over until, panting and out of breath, he began to shuffled his feet forward wearily. Douno was unsure whether to walk him the rest of the way home, or turn on his heel to go back. He felt like it would be awkward either way. But unable to abandon the man, Douno ran after Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“That’s my house, and that’s my family,” Douno said to the man who stomped along with his back to him. “You might not have liked it, but this is reality. You can’t help it if you feel like you’re a different colour, because that house is where we live as a family. You can always start your own household. Then, we can have a relationship that includes both our families.”<br />
<p>“How am I supposed to start a family?”<br />
<p>“Well, you find someone you love...”<br />
<p>“I’ve said over and over that I love <i>you</i>!” Kitagawa yelled, in a voice that was loud enough to ring out over the neighbourhood. Douno felt himself cower, but desperately tried to remain defiant.<br />
<p>“No matter how much you feel for me, I can’t return your feelings. I can’t feel that kind of romantic love for you. If that’s what you want from me, don’t ever come see me again.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked seized with shock and on the brink of tears. Watching him made Douno’s heart ache.<br />
<p>“We need to draw the line,” Douno implored. “I can’t feel romantic love for you, But I still want to see you as friends. If we’re friends, you won’t have to wait two or three weeks. Come over every day, if you like. Come over to eat with us.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa hung his head. His clenched fists were trembling.<br />
<p>“I’ve been thinking for a long time: you’re not fair. I like you so many times more than you like me. I know I do.”<br />
<p>“Love isn’t about comparing the weight of each other’s feelings.”<br />
<p>Their eyes met.<br />
<p>“I wanted to live my life with Mariko, not you.”<br />
<p>After a long silence, Kitagawa spoke. “So I’m the loser,” he mumbled.<br />
<p>“Don’t say it like that. It’s true that I married Mariko, but I still want to keep being friends with you. I want to see what kind of person you’ll fall in love and find happiness with. I still want to be involved in your life.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa turned on his heel and started walking again. In the outskirts of the residential area, he turned off on a path, and went all the way to the end. His feet stopped in front of a single detached house.<br />
<p>It was surrounded by high walls, and the branches of a tall tree were poking out over it. Douno had seen this house before; the real estate agent had shown it to him and his wife when they were looking for a house to live in together. It was old and dirty, and since Mariko protested, they had not taken it. Kitagawa put a hand on the gate, which swung limply like a mere ornament.<br />
<p>“I’m going home now,” Douno said.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s back was to him. He did not answer, nor did he show signs of going into his house.<br />
<p>“I don’t want to be too late, so I’m going home,” Douno said again.<br />
<p>There was no response.<br />
<p>“Feel free to give me a call whenever you like. Let’s eat together. You don’t need to hold back.” Douno insisted as strongly as he could at the man’s back, and turned to go home.<br />
<p>“Hey.”<br />
<p>A voice called him.<br />
<p>“Give me your phone number.”<br />
<p>Douno realized he had not given the man his phone number yet. He fished out his cell phone from his jacket pocket, and displayed his number. He repeated the eleven-digit number twice, slowly.<br />
<p>“Can you remember it?” Douno looked up at the man searchingly.<br />
<p>“You still tell me to call you even when I’ve told you I don’t want to, huh?”<br />
<p>Douno remembered Kitagawa mentioning over and over that he hated the phone, in the parking lot of his workplace.<br />
<p>“Oh, sorry. But you’ll be able to get a hold of me better by phone, and we wouldn’t miss each other when we try to meet.” He made a little bit of an excuse for his forgetfulness.<br />
<p>“And don’t hang up on me when we’re on the phone.”<br />
<p>Douno tilted his head.<br />
<p>“You hung up all of a sudden the other day, and it pissed me off.”<br />
<p>“Oh, right. Okay.”<br />
<p>Douno had called to thank Kitagawa for the <i>soba</i>, and had hung up on him from the unbearable weight of their conversation. He had no idea it had bothered Kitagawa so much.<br />
<p>“I remember everything I talked about with you today. I never forget what you say. But you forget what I say right away,” Kitagawa said in a detached way. “Is that what it means for me to love you and for you to see me as a friend?”<br />
<p>Douno felt like he was being blamed. Even though Kitagawa might not have meant it, it still came across to him that way.<br />
<p>“I’m going home now.”<br />
<p>“...I'm lonely.” Kitagawa looked at Douno with a pleading gaze. “I'm lonely.”<br />
<p>Douno looked at his feet. “Let’s meet again tomorrow. Once the new day comes, you can come over again.”<br />
<p>“If I stay home alone, I probably won’t be able to stand it. Like that time with you over the phone, but I’ll feel worse, and tears’ll start coming out of my eyes.”<br />
<p>“You only have to wait a little bit until morning.” Douno repeated as if convincing a small child. He made sure nothing more spilled from Kitagawa’s lips after his plaintive claim of loneliness, then turned on his heel. He walked a few steps and turned around. He could see the shadow still standing in the same spot.<br />
<p>Douno did not turn around again until he got home. If he turned around and found the man still watching him, Douno felt like he would have run back, against his better judgement.<br />
<p>Kitagawa had said over and over that he was lonely. <i>If he’s that lonely, it wouldn’t hurt if I stayed with him for one night</i>―Douno’s feelings were starting to tip in that direction. It was affection, he thought. It was not romantic love, and they were not family. But he harboured an affection inside him which he could do nothing about.<br />
<p>Douno came home with heavy spirits, as if dragged down by Kitagawa’s loneliness. He heard Mariko talking to someone, but as soon as Douno appeared in the living room, the phone was hung up.<br />
<p>“Who were you talking to?”<br />
<p>“Mr. Taguchi,” Mariko said. Taguchi was the manager of the supermarket where Mariko worked part-time. She had introduced them once when Douno went shopping with her. Taguchi was three years older than Douno, but he looked much younger and was an amiable man. He seemed to like children, for he was all smiles when he spoke to Honoka, and had given her a candy from the store as a gift. He was married for over ten years. “They don’t have children, though,” Mariko had said.<br />
<p>“The person who works the night shift is in the hospital from an injury, and had to take emergency leave. He asked me if I could fill in starting tomorrow, but I have a child to take care of, so...”<br />
<p>“I guess you’re right. If my work day ended earlier, I could’ve watched Honoka, but...”<br />
<p>“Thanks, but it’s okay. I already told him no.” Mariko smiled. Come to think of it, Honoka was nowhere in sight, when she had been bawling moments before.<br />
<p>“Did Honoka go to sleep?”<br />
<p>“She cried herself to sleep. I think she really enjoyed Mr. Kitagawa playing with her and drawing pictures for her.” Mariko hunched her shoulders.<br />
<p>“I see,” Douno let out a murmur which sounded more like a sigh.<br />
<p>“He’s a little different, isn’t he?” Mariko said. “He doesn’t talk much. But he’s really kind. He had a lot of patience to put up with a four-year-old child for that long.”<br />
<p>Douno was happy to hear her call Kitagawa kind. He cared about the man, and he felt like Mariko was also on the same page.<br />
<p>“He’s living by himself, and I don’t think he eats very well. He’s not close with his family, either, so I want him to feel at home spending time with us. Is it alright if I invite him over for dinner in the future?”<br />
<p>“Go ahead, but promise you’ll let me know beforehand.” Mariko gave Douno’s chest a gentle prod.<br />
<p>“I will,” Douno answered, and gently embraced his wife. As he stroked her soft brown hair which cascaded midway down her back, he noticed something twinkling around his wife’s slender, fair neck. It was a necklace, but he had never seen this design before.<br />
<p>“Did you buy this?” he asked, plucking the chain with his fingertips. Mariko’s spine flinched.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you about it beforehand. But it was so cute, and it didn’t cost much.”<br />
<p>Douno smiled wryly. “I’m not angry at you. You have a part-time job, too, so you should feel free to buy what you want without my permission.”<br />
<p>“Thank you,” Mariko murmured. She buried her face in Douno’s chest, and circled her arms around his back.<br />
<p>“Say, is Mr. Kitagawa dating anyone?” she asked.<br />
<p>“I don’t think so. Why?”<br />
<p>“He’s kind of good-looking, don’t you think?”<br />
<p>“Is he?”<br />
<p>“Yeah,” said Mariko. “He’s tall, and though he’s a bit awkward, he’s kind. I think he’d be on my radar if I were single.”<br />
<p>“I don’t like the sound of that,” Douno murmured uncertainly. <br />
<p>“I’m kidding,” Mariko giggled softly.<br />
<p>“But I do hope Kitagawa finds someone special like that," Douno said. "Then he wouldn’t have to feel lonely.”<br />
<p>“You’re a kind one, too,” Mariko said, touching Douno’s fingers. Douno gently clasped her thin fingers in his own, and wished earnestly that such a someone would really appear before Kitagawa.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/07/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-12.html">PART 12</a>.</center><br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.<br />
9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-24967689248783349272013-06-30T23:56:00.001-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.410-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 10("The Fragile Swindler" Part 5, final)<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-9.html">PART 9</a>.<br />
<br />
<p>On Saturday, March 27, Oe participated in the gathering as Taketoshi Matsuzaki. His wife stopped him before he left the house.<br />
<p>“I have something I need to tell you tonight,” she said. Oe assumed it was about their daughter’s university admissions fee, tuition, and other such things.<br />
<p>“I don’t know what time I’ll be back. Can we talk about this next time?” Oe managed to defer the topic, all the while feeling just a little bit weary of it all.<br />
<p>Oe arrived an hour early at the hotel in Omiya, Saitama, where the gathering was to be held. It was a small venue, like an extension of a business hotel. Oe had researched the scale and size of this event beforehand, but he was nevertheless relieved upon seeing the real thing. A hotel like this, with only one entrance, was much easier to stake out than a luxury hotel with multiple entrances and exits. The only fault he could find was that the entire lobby, which was small like the rest of the hotel, could easily be seen from the reception desk. However, his stakeout was not going to be several days long. Most likely the people at the front desk would only think of him as a loitering customer. Oe had actually wanted to stake out the venue entrance, but the place was cramped and there were no chairs nearby. He would end up making himself conspicuous if he lingered for an hour or more. The last thing Oe wanted to do was leave some sort of impression on Douno, who was possibly attending this gathering as well.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Oe sat on the sofa in the lobby and pretended to read the newspaper while observing the people coming in. Kitagawa’s sketch was already engraved into his memory. Thirty minutes before the gathering was to begin, there was a sudden surge of people passing through the lobby towards the elevators. Oe waited it out until five minutes before the event started, but no man resembling the sketch appeared. He wrapped up his stakeout in the lobby and took the elevator to the fourth floor, where the gathering was being held. Everyone had already gone in, and the only people at the check-in desk were Oe and a young man who looked like the attendant. Since registration was already done beforehand by e-mail or postcard, all one had to do was write his name on the list to check in. There was a minute left before the gathering was to start.<br />
<p>“Oh, yeah,” Oe said loudly after writing his name. “I’d like to see if Mr. Saito is here. Mind if I look at the list?” He put on an act of being a pushy man as he grabbed the name list without permission. The young man in charge looked clearly annoyed, but since there was no one else there to do his job, he did not attempt to childishly snatch the list back.<br />
<p>Oe flipped the pages backwards from where he had written his name. <i>Douno, Douno.</i> Oe focused all of his mental faculties on the name list. Finally, on the first page with today’s date, on the fifth line, he located the name he had been searching for: Takafumi Douno. His fingers shook. Oe had had nothing to back up his claim; this whole investigation had been based on his deductions―but he had been right!<br />
<p>“It’s starting soon. Please go inside,” the man said to him. Oe thrust the name list back at the young man and stepped quickly into the room. It was not very large. Upon counting the number of long meeting tables and chairs, he guessed there were about sixty participants or so.<br />
<p>The room was nearly filled, but there were a few empty seats here and there. Instead of sitting down, Oe stood at the very back looking out over the entire room. He was unable to find the man from where he stood.<br />
<p>During a brief gap in the programme, Oe took a seat in the middle of the room. It was the very opposite of his place at the back of the room, and he could see people’s faces much more clearly. Despite his scrutinizing eye, he spotted no man with Douno’s face. At the halfway point of the programme, there was a fifteen-minute break. Oe immediately hurried to the front and looked out across the room. He found no face which matched the sketch in his mind.<br />
<p>Before long, the break was over, and Oe was forced to resume his seat. Douno was here, yet Oe could not find him. He began to feel a slight onset of panic. Why wasn’t he able to find the man? What if Kitagawa’s sketch actually did not resemble Douno, and it had been a completely useless lead?<br />
<p>The gathering was over in about two hours. Oe immediately exited the room, then leaned against a nearby pillar to watch for a man resembling Douno to come out. He checked each and every person carefully, and even remained until the doors to the room were locked, but he did not spot a man that matched the sketch.<br />
<p>He had failed. As soon as the fact hit him, Oe’s mind turned blank at the shock of missing his biggest chance. But he knew standing here in a stupor would do nothing. The gathering had ended at five in the evening. If Douno lived far away and had come out to participate in this meeting, there was a chance he would be staying the night. Oe hastily took the elevator down to the first floor and headed straight for the reception desk.<br />
<p>“Excuse me, I think there’s a Takafumi Douno staying at this hotel. We were supposed to meet in the lobby, but he hasn’t shown up. He’s not picking up his cell, either. Would you be able to call his room for me?” he asked.<br />
<p>“Just a moment, please,” said the man at the reception desk as he operated the computer screen at his fingertips.<br />
<p>“You’re sure it’s Mr. Takafumi Douno?”<br />
<p>“Yes, Douno, that’s him.”<br />
<p>The man tilted his head in perplexity. “There’s no one named Mr. Douno staying at this hotel, nor have there been any reservations for him.”<br />
<p>“Hmm, that’s strange. I wonder if I got the wrong hotel,” Oe muttered loudly enough for the man to hear. He apologized, then walked away from the reception desk. Douno was not staying at this hotel, which meant he was planning to go home the same evening. Oe pressed a hand to his forehead. If he had missed Douno leaving the room, there was no hope for him. The gathering had ended forty minutes ago. It was a ten-minute walk to the closest station, Omiya Station. It was a three-minute walk to the bus stop. Douno had most likely already gotten on some form of transport. A stakeout at the station or the bus terminal would be meaningless now.<br />
<p>But no, there was still a possibility. It was a vague hour of the day, but if Douno’s trip home was going to be a long one, perhaps he would take a meal on the way back. <i>The station―I’ll head-first to the station.</i> Just as Oe was about to set off, he felt the presence of a knot of people near the elevators.<br />
<p>Oe turned around to see a group of about seven people in suits standing in front of the elevators. He spotted the young man at check-in among them, and his heart raced. Perhaps this group had something to do with the group, Support for Victims Falsely Accused of Molestation. Oe drew up against the wall and observed the approaching group.<br />
<p>The check-in attendant was in his twenties; the man beside him in his fifties; the man beside him in his thirties ― Oe stared intently at that man. He wore a grey coat over a navy suit. His hair was grown out, but he somewhat resembled Kitagawa’s sketch. No―he was a spitting image. Oe’s heart hammered like an alarm bell, and a sheen of sweat coated his brow. <br />
<p>The group of seven, including Douno, stood chatting near the wall a little ways off from the reception desk, about five metres away from Oe. The man whom he suspected to be Douno stood with his back to him.<br />
<p>“So now we’re heading over to the wrap-up dinner?” said the voice of the young man at check-in.<br />
<p>“Looks like it. Kimijima’s made a reservation. Does anyone know where the restaurant is?” The man in his fifties looked around at the group.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry, but I have to get going.” Oe could see the man, who was probably Douno, bow his head slightly. “I said I would make it home today.” The man spoke in a slow, mild manner.<br />
<p>“You’re in Kanagawa, right, Douno?” the man in his fifties asked.<br />
<p>“Yes, I am,” said the voice of the man with his back to Oe. Maybe it was him, it was probably him―now, he was most certain. That man was Douno.<br />
<p>Douno said his goodbyes to the group before leaving the hotel briskly. Oe began tailing him a distance away. He sent his heartfelt gratitude to the man in the lobby who had asked where Douno lived. Oe had no idea what method Douno would use to get home, but at least now he knew for certain where he was headed. Kanagawa.<br />
<p>Douno walked for about ten minutes before arriving at a Japan Rail station. He went straight inside the station building. There, he bought a small box of sweets and a stuffed toy rabbit about the size of one’s hand. Once he finished his shopping, he headed for the ticket stands. Oe drew right up diagonally behind Douno and checked the price of the ticket Douno had bought. He quickly bought a ticket of the same price, and followed after him.<br />
<p>Douno proceeded to the platform and waited for about ten minutes before boarding the 18:33 train. There were a handful of empty seats in the non-reserved car, and Douno took a seat in the middle of the second car. Oe sat behind him, near the automatic doors. From this spot, he could keep a constant eye on Douno’s head. Oe looked up the route map on his cell phone. This train was a direct line from Omiya bound for Odawara in Kanagawa. Judging by the price of the ticket, Douno was most likely to get off at Yokohama. That would make for a one-hour train ride. Oe was positive that the man would not get off before Yokohama, but sometimes targets did unexpected things. He fixed his eyes intently on the back of Douno’s head.<br />
<p>When the train stopped at Ikebukuro, the few empty seats left filled up completely. Moments after the train began to move, a young mother with a child about three years old passed Oe’s seat. The mother glanced left and right as they walked down the aisle. Both mother and child stopped about midway down. Douno had offered the mother his seat.<br />
<p>Douno exited into the passageway between the train cars. Oe panicked. There were still thirty minutes of travel time until Yokohama. Perhaps Douno had given up his seat simply out of kindness, but it was also possible he was planning to get off before Yokohama. Once Douno was in the passageway, Oe would not be able to check when he was getting off.<br />
<p>Oe’s hesitation only lasted for a moment. He stood from his seat and headed to the passageway where Douno had gone. Douno was standing beside the handrail near the right-hand exit of the second car. Oe stood on the opposite side, near the left-hand exit. It was a complete failure in terms of tailing distance, but it would be impossible to see Douno in the alcove if Oe stood near the doors of the first car. It would also be unnatural for him to peer in at each stop to make sure Douno was still there.<br />
<p>In this case, it was natural enough just to stand near the opposite exit pretending he was just another passenger. Besides, if this mission was successful, he would never have to see Douno again.<br />
<p>A shuffling sound came from Douno’s direction. Oe glanced over using just his eyes. Douno took out a small paperback book out of his bag and began to read while standing up. There was a cover on it, so Oe could not catch the title. Douno leaned against the wall of the car and swayed along with its movements as he continued to read in silence.<br />
<p>The sun went down, and Oe could see Douno’s profile reflected in the darkened window pane on Oe’s side. There were no facial characteristics that set Douno apart. His eyes, nose, and mouth were all of a harmless shape, settled in a harmless fashion across his face. He looked exactly like the sketch. Though the man was not ugly, he could hardly be called good-looking; his impression was much too vague and hard to place.<br />
<p>It was hard to imagine from Douno’s ordinary-looking profile that he would have had a relationship with a man in jail, much less manipulated or seduced him. Or was it another case of deceptive appearances?<br />
<p>What part of this man had attracted Kitagawa so much? What allure had Kitagawa found in him to make him want nothing else, to want to do nothing else?<br />
<p>If thinking didn’t help Oe figure it out, no amount of staring probably could, either. He figured it was something he would never understand, and looked away from the face in the window.<br />
<p>The train stopped at a station. A cold draught came seeping into the passageway. There were more people getting on than off, and soon even the passageway became crowded. A young man with earphones on, who looked about college-age, stood across from Oe.<br />
<p>The temperature was chilly for March, and the heating was turned on in the train; however, it was slightly cooler in the passageway than in the car. Oe had only taken slight notice of the cold, but ever since sneezing twice in a row at the last stop, his nose would not stop running. If he sniffled too much, he would attract attention, so Oe held it in. But this time, his nose began to itch unbearably.<br />
<p>Before he could even attempt to control himself, Oe found himself releasing a spectacularly loud sneeze. As if the noise wasn’t enough, Oe’s covering his mouth with his hand resulted in him spraying snot out of his nose.<br />
<p>“Ew,” the young man across from him wrinkled his brow in disgust. Oe felt himself turn red to his ears. He hastily unzipped his bag to find something to wipe his nose with, but lost his grip and ended up dropping his bag upside-down and spilling its contents everywhere. His digital camera and notebook went tumbling across the floor, and his ballpoint pen rolled out into the passageway. It could not get worse than this.<br />
<p>“Use this, if you like.” As Oe knelt down to pick up his things, a pack of tissues was held out in front of him―the kind of tissues often handed out for free on the streets.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry. Thank you.” Oe looked up, presuming it was the young man standing across from him. He froze when he saw who it actually was. Douno smiled briefly, then went back to the opposite exit.<br />
<p>The pack of tissues was from a consumer financing company. Oe remembered the tissues being handed out at Omiya Station, and Douno accepting a pack. Oe had been offered one, too, but had ignored the person out of annoyance.<br />
<p>The train bumped along as if this small incident had never happened. Oe finally recalled what Shiba had said about Douno being compassionate.<br />
<p>Douno got off the train at a station in Yokohama, just as Oe predicted. It was a little past seven-forty in the evening. Once out of the station, Douno headed straight for a bus terminal. There were three other people waiting below the placard showing the destination and time schedule.<br />
<p>Oe had already flubbed and left an impression on Douno by sneezing and receiving a tissue from him. If he boarded the same bus, Douno would probably not be suspicious of him, but he would definitely recognize him and think, “It’s him again.” Oe switched to tailing by taxi, and waited in the car until Douno boarded the bus. He used the zoom on his camera to take a few pictures of Douno. It wasn’t necessary, but Oe thought he might as well do it since he was at a good distance. He was most certain that the man was Douno, but if he had photos, he would be able to make doubly sure about it.<br />
<p>Douno boarded the bus, then rode it for about fifteen minutes before getting off at a lonely, deserted bus stop. Oe continued to tail him at a distance closer than usual. This territory was new to him, and he did not have a good grasp of the area. On top of that, it was nightfall. If he lost Douno once, he was afraid he would never find him again.<br />
<p>Douno entered a dusky park, then suddenly vanished from Oe’s view. Oe hurried to catch up, but he could not spot the man anywhere. There were multiple entrances into the park; perhaps Douno had used a side path. Oe could not bring himself to give up after having followed him this far. He did one round of the area, but could not find Douno after all.<br />
<p>Oe wanted to investigate the surrounding houses, but it was impossible to do this late at night. He was sorely disappointed at losing Douno halfway, but he had at least been able to identify what region Douno lived in. He also knew that Douno staffed the support group for falsely-accused gropers.<br />
<p>For today, Oe would go home and contact the person in charge of the support group website. He would claim he had found something left behind at the meeting venue which appeared to belong to Douno.<br />
<p>“I want to send it to him, so would you be able to tell me his address?” he would ask. Since they were fellow group members, anyway, Oe was sure they would tell him Douno’s address.<br />
<p>Today he had not only left an impression in Douno’s mind, but he had failed to track him down all the way to his house. Oe’s performance today as a detective was in the gutters. However, he was happy to find the man he had previously thought impossible to locate. Oe was one step away now. If he could find out Douno’s address, he would be forever relieved of the threat of being handed over to the police. Half of the weight was off his shoulders now. On the train back home, Oe reclined deeply in his seat and let out a long sigh of relief.<br />
<p>The train jostled and clattered along the tracks. Lights swept by in the dark window pane. The sight of Douno’s face up close flitted across Oe’s mind. Some attendees of the gathering had been in casual clothes, but Douno had been wearing a suit and tie. His hair was neatly groomed, and when he had handed Oe the pack of tissues, his fingernails had been trimmed neatly. Douno was most likely living a proper life. He had bought a souvenir and a stuffed toy rabbit―perhaps he had a wife and small child.<br />
<p>There was the man who searched blindly and intently out of the singular desire to see the other person again. Then, there was the man who lived a grounded life as if nothing had ever happened. Even though their paths had crossed once in the past, their ways were now clearly parted.<br />
<p>Did Douno wish to be found by Kitagawa? Did he intend to repeat his past homosexual relationship? What place did Kitagawa occupy in his heart?<br />
<p>If Oe told Kitagawa where the man lived, he would probably drop everything to go to Douno’s side. There, he would see the reality of Douno with a wife and child. Then―then, what would happen?<br />
<p><i>It doesn’t matter what happens.</i> Oe did not have any other choice but to tell Kitagawa everything.<br />
<p>Lulled by the gentle bumping of the train, Oe slowly began to slip into unconsciousness. He decided to stop thinking of a future he could not imagine for the two.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Immediately after getting home, Oe wrote an e-mail to the person in charge of the support group. “When I attended the gathering, I picked up a card with the name ‘Takafumi Douno’ on it,” he wrote. “I’d like to return it to him, in case it’s something important. If he’s a member, I’d like you to tell me his address.” In the morning, he received a reply. <i>There is someone by that name registered as a member. It is most likely him,</i> said the e-mail from the person in charge. <i>I will return it to him in person. Please mail it to our office.</i> “It will only be more hassle for you. I can send it directly,” Oe wrote back. The person in charge wrote him a polite reply:<br />
<p><i>Under the Personal Information Protection Law, we are not allowed to give out addresses even between fellow members. I’m very sorry.</i><br />
<p>If he was unable to get information from them, Oe decided he had no choice but to head out to Yokohama again. With a residential map in hand, he would walk door-to-door within a generous three-hundred-metre vicinity of the park where he had lost sight of Douno. But it was already the twenty-eighth. He had two days, including today, until his deadline. Investigations like these, requiring eyes and footwork, tended to take longer than estimated. To be truthful, he was tempted to call for backup, but the chief did not know that Oe had given up his day off to search for Douno. Off days were off days; with most cases, there was no need to be devoted entirely to a case.<br />
<p>Upon thorough consideration, Oe decided to call Shiba. It was a Sunday, and apparently Shiba was off work, for he answered the phone himself.<br />
<p>“I found Takafumi Douno. I’ve narrowed it down to the region he’s living in, but I need a couple more days to figure out his exact address. Would you extend our three-month deadline by three more days?” Oe pleaded.<br />
<p>That afternoon, Oe headed out to a coffee shop near the closest station to his office. He sipped a coffee while he waited, and momentarily Shiba appeared with Kitagawa in tow. Kitagawa was wearing his usual white shirt and black pants. He was not wearing the black coat anymore. His cheeks, which had been getting hollower with each meeting as if the air was being sucked out of them, looked a lot more fleshed out now.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was unaware of what happened between Shiba and Oe. He appeared surprised to find Oe was the man they were meeting.<br />
<p>“Oh, Mr. Detective. What’s going on?”<br />
<p>Shiba, who stood beside him, thumped him on the shoulder. “This is the guy I’ve wanted you to see. See, Oe is my cousin. We bumped into each other the other day. We went out for drinks, and lo behold, your name comes up in the conversation. You wouldn’t believe how surprised I was. I’d heard your story before, but I had no idea you were talking about Oe. Apparently he married into his wife’s family and changed his last name.”<br />
<p>Oe and Shiba were not cousins, nor had he changed his last name from marrying into his wife’s family. Shiba ushered Kitagawa into a seat. The man sat down across from Oe with a dubious look on his face.<br />
<p>“It really is a small world, like they say.”<br />
<p>Shiba spoke naturally enough to make his lie sound like truth, and grinned at Oe in a friendly manner. He was quite the actor.<br />
<p>“You know how I know a lot about your situation, right, Kitagawa? That’s why I asked Oe to keep an eye out for Douno even though the investigation was over.”<br />
<p>Throughout the conversation, Kitagawa still appeared not to understand why he was here, nor what was about to happen next as he gave brief responses with a blank face.<br />
<p>The waitress brought them glasses of water. The two of them ordered coffee.<br />
<p>“I was concerned about you myself, Mr. Kitagawa.” Oe said. “You were very dedicated to searching for him.”<br />
<p>From his bag, Oe took out a memo folded in half.<br />
<p>“On other business, I met someone who works in my field... I can’t tell you the details, since it’s an issue of privacy, but... he happened to know Mr. Douno.”<br />
<p>The man across from him widened his eyes.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa, you’re a lucky man. Mr. Douno is in Kanagawa right now. I don’t know his exact address yet, but he’s in this district of N City... he lives in the vicinity of this park. There’s no mistake about it.”<br />
<p>Oe took out a photocopy of the residential map, his own copy which he had shrunk to B5 size for his own investigative purposes. With a red ballpoint pen, he drew a circle around the predicted area, and coloured in the park where he had seen Douno vanish.<br />
<p>“You can keep this copy, Mr. Kitagawa. Here you go.”<br />
<p>The long fingers which took the map from him seemed to be trembling. Kitagawa stared at the copy in his hands without even blinking.<br />
<p>“Ain’t that nice, Kitagawa?” Shiba clapped him on the shoulder. Kitagawa folded up the copy into a small square and clenched it in his right hand. But soon he unclenched his hand again and peered inside. He did the same thing twice.<br />
<p>“That was a long search, huh? I guess things turn up when they turn up.”<br />
<p>Despite having threatened Oe with reporting the fraud to the police, and having made him throw everything into searching for Douno, Shiba seemed to emphasize how chance had played a role.<br />
<p>Kitagawa, having finally acquired the location of the man he had been searching for, neither jumped up in glee nor broke into a smile. He remained with his head bowed, looking stunned.<br />
<p>“...I feel like I’m dreaming.” He vigorously scratched his head of short hair with his right hand. “What is this?”<br />
<p>Shiba gently shook the hand he still had on Kitagawa’s shoulder.<br />
<p>“What’s what? Pull yourself together. This isn’t a dream. You’re going to see Douno soon.”<br />
<p>“...My saviour.” Trembling slightly, Kitagawa repeated the same words. “My saviour,” he murmured. He lifted his face, and looked Oe in the eye.<br />
<p>“I don’t know much about religion, but starting today, you’re my God.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stood from his seat and bowed deeply to Oe.<br />
<p>“Please lift your face, Mr. Kitagawa. You’re exaggerating, calling me God. It was a coincidence that we were able to find Mr. Douno, after all.”<br />
<p>“But if it wasn’t for you, I might’ve never seen Douno again. ―Hey, isn’t there anything you want?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa placed his left palm on his chest.<br />
<p>“Tell me what you want. I’ll give you anything other than my life, if you’ll just ask.”<br />
<p>Shiba yanked his shirt, and Kitagawa collapsed back into his seat.<br />
<p>“Don’t be so abrupt,” Shiba said. “Oe wouldn’t know how to answer that. You can take your time and think about thank-yous later.”<br />
<p>“Oh, right... that’s how it works...” Kitagawa scratched the back of his head. Oe felt some guilt towards being called “God” by a man he had tricked and syphoned money from, despite the fact that Kitagawa himself was unaware.<br />
<p>“Oh, I almost forgot.” Oe took out his digital camera from his bag. “I have a few photos of Mr. Douno. Would you like to take a look?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa hesitantly lifted Oe’s camera from his hands as if it were a fragile piece of equipment. He stared at the photo of Douno in the display as if to bore holes into it with his gaze. With his finger, he stroked the display over and over.<br />
<p>“....Takafumi,” he murmured, then stood up. “Takafumi, Takafumi, Takafumi,” he repeated like a child, his face alight in a smile. With the map firmly grasped in his hand, he proceeded to burst out of the coffee shop.<br />
<p>Through the window, they could see the man’s tall figure running down the sidewalk. It grew smaller into the distance, and in moments, he was gone.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The two men left behind in the coffee shop sat across from each other, looking somewhat at a loss of what to do.<br />
<p>“He ran off like a bullet,” Shiba muttered as if to himself. The man was long gone, but Shiba’s eyes were still trained on the spot down the road.<br />
<p>“Should we have let him go? He doesn’t even know the exact address.”<br />
<p>“If he’s okay with that, it’s okay.” Shiba extracted a cigarette and lit it. <br />
<p>“I didn’t tell Mr. Kitagawa about this, but I think Mr. Douno is married with a child.”<br />
<p>“Uh-huh,” Shiba said, not looking particularly surprised.<br />
<p>“Do you think it would result in some kind of dispute over there?”<br />
<p>“That’s their problem.”<br />
<p>Shiba was the very man who had made Oe search for Douno. There was a chance Douno’s family life would be disrupted and ruined, yet Shiba talked as if it were none of his business.<br />
<p>“Douno might find it a fine pain in the neck to deal with,” Shiba said, “but until Kitagawa gets to see him, the man won’t be able to move forward or back.”<br />
<p>Shiba let out a short puff of smoke. Although Oe had been able to find Douno within the promised three months, he had not been able to pinpoint his address. Shiba’s decision had been to tell Kitagawa anyway.<br />
<p>“I guess I should keep searching for Mr. Douno’s address as well?” Oe said.<br />
<p>“I don’t need you anymore. If Kitagawa knows that much already, he’ll find out the rest on his own.”<br />
<p>The search for Douno was over, which meant the promise would be kept. Oe couldn’t help but make sure, just in case.<br />
<p>“Um, what you said in the beginning about going to the police...”<br />
<p>The man glanced at him. “You kept your promise. I won’t report you.”<br />
<p>Relief overcame Oe as the tenseness was lifted from his shoulders. Now he had nothing to fear, or to worry about.<br />
<p>“As for the expenses for Douno’s search, you can pay that out of the amount you pinched from Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>Oe was prepared for Shiba’s statement. His actual expenses would probably exceed 565,000 yen, but in turn, he had avoided becoming involved with the police, as well as maintained his social position. In that aspect, the extra expense was well worth it.<br />
<p>Shiba continued to smoke in silence. There was only one thing about this man that bothered Oe.<br />
<p>“Couldn’t you have told Mr. Kitagawa directly about Mr. Douno instead of me?”<br />
<p>Only Shiba’s eyes moved to acknowledge him.<br />
<p>“That way, I wouldn’t have been called God and given such misdirected credit. You would have earned that gratitude instead, Mr. Shiba.”<br />
<p><i>You must be kidding me</i>, Shiba spat as he scowled.<br />
<p>“Why would you say that? I think you deserve to be thanked by Kitagawa more than anyone. You might’ve threatened me, but as a result you were able to find Douno in the end.”<br />
<p>Shiba maintained a disgruntled silence and brought his cold coffee to his lips. Oe had only asked the question out of genuine curiosity and had not meant to say anything offensive. Faced with a sudden change for the worse in the man’s mood, he was at a complete loss of what to do.<br />
<p>Now that their transaction was complete, Oe had no reason to be here. He wondered if he should just head home, and glanced at his watch. It was a little past two in the afternoon.<br />
<p>“―In the days up to Douno’s release,” the man spoke, just as Oe was about to propose going home. “Kitagawa was in the secure cell. So Douno tried to give me his address. Said he wanted me to tell Kitagawa when he got out. That’s when I told Douno, ‘If you’re not prepared to live the rest of your life with him, don’t even bother.’”<br />
<p>Shiba clicked his tongue angrily.<br />
<p>“It might work in prison, but things like that never work out once you’re outside. It doesn’t take much thinking to figure that out, does it? So when I warned him, Douno didn’t say anything. He was a guy who understood things like that, and I think he made a fair choice not to tell.”<br />
<p>Shiba fidgeted irritably in his chair. It creaked with his movement.<br />
<p>“I still don’t think I did anything wrong. But when I started working at the same factory as Kitagawa, and found out that for the past four years he’d been putting all of his wages into searching for Douno, I just couldn’t sit still anymore. No matter how many times I told him to give up, he wouldn’t. That’s why I thought, if he could see Douno married with a family, and see reality for what it actually was, he’d finally go and find another way to live.”<br />
<p>Shiba’s gazed shifted to the window. Of course, Kitagawa was no longer there. Perhaps he was already on a train to Kanagawa.<br />
<p>“If I’d just told Kitagawa Douno’s address without meddling, he probably wouldn’t have had to waste four years searching for him. As if it’s not enough that he’s spent his best, youngest years rotting in prison... just when you think he’s finally out―”<br />
<p>His gaze, which had been directed outside, came back to settle on Oe in a glare.<br />
<p>“He ends up working his ass off to the point of collapse to pile all this money onto a detective who’s a fraudulent bastard. ‘He reminds me of Douno,’ the guy says, without suspecting a thing. You two don’t even look alike. Is it your voice? Your mannerisms? Whatever it is, I don’t care. A guy who reminds Kitagawa of Douno has no right to be tricking him.”<br />
<p>Oe suddenly understood why Shiba had not told Kitagawa about him.<br />
<p>“...It hurts to be betrayed by someone you trust.”<br />
<p>Shiba fell silent, as if he had worn himself out talking. It was a spring afternoon, and the gentle rays of the sun poured down on the table. A coffee shop employee, apparently noting their empty cups, picked both of them up and took them away.<br />
<p>“Hey, Mr. Oe. Do you have any idea? What kind of guy is Kitagawa exactly? Love between two men? Bullshit. But that fixation... can you call that love, too? It’s a load of unwanted trouble for everyone else, frankly. It’s not right. Oh, I don’t care anymore. Whatever happens to those two is none of my business. I’ve got nothing to do with it,” Shiba spat as he looked down.<br />
<p>“As for Douno, he was the kind of guy you’d find anywhere. Anyone would wonder what was so special about him.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Once out the coffee shop doors, there was a pastry shop to the immediate right. Oe bought three pieces of shortcake there, remembering he had not done anything yet to celebrate his daughter’s admission to university. <br />
<p>He also remembered his wife saying she had something to talk about. Oe’s spirits dampened as he figured it was most likely about admissions fees and tuition. However, since his search for Douno had been concluded, he understood he had to sit down and have this talk properly.<br />
<p>Oe thought to himself on his way home. He had a hunch that the Shiba’s anger and threats towards him and Shiba’s own regret were two sides of the same coin. Shiba’s belief that he had torn Kitagawa and Douno’s relationship asunder had driven him to action.<br />
<p>Oe had perceived through talking with Shiba that the man carried a considerable burden in his heart over not telling Kitagawa. However, Oe believed Shiba had no obligation to tell Kitagawa the address in the first place. Douno only had to pick Kitagawa up the day he was released. This was not Shiba’s fault; this was all due to Douno’s choice.<br />
<p>Shiba had said he did not know whether Kitagawa’s attachment was love or something else. <i>Wait, I remember</i>, Oe thought to himself. Kitagawa had likened his relationship with Douno to the relationship between Oe and his wife. He had said something along the lines of his feelings for Douno being as strong as those between a married couple.<br />
<p>Feelings harboured in an unusual environment like a prison, in a relationship that did not even last a year, were not even worth comparing to the love between a married man and wife, whose feelings steadily accumulated and grew like falling snow. Kitagawa did not understand this.<br />
<p>As Shiba put it, Kitagawa would be faced with reality once he met Douno. But whatever emotional outburst that might happen, or the atrocity that might ensue, was out of Oe’s range of responsibility now.<br />
<p>When Oe arrived home to his apartment, it was as silent and still as the bottom of the sea. He vaguely remembered his wife had been home when he left for the coffee shop in the afternoon, but he was not sure. His head had been too full with thinking about meeting Kitagawa and telling him the truth that he had not had the room for anything else.<br />
<p>It was Sunday today; perhaps his wife and daughter had gone out. Come to think of it, there had been no shoes in the doorway. As he entered the living room with the box of cakes in hand, he found a piece of paper left on the kitchen table. He peered at it, wondering if it was a note explaining their absence―then his mind went blank.<br />
<p>Divorce papers, filled in with his wife’s name and stamp, glared silently back at him.<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/07/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-11.html">PART 11</a>.</center><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-209326478127471902013-06-24T01:49:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.405-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 9("The Fragile Swindler" Part 4)<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-8.html">PART 8</a>.<br />
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<br />
<p>It wasn’t until he got home that Oe realized his wallet was missing from his back trouser pocket. He did not remember putting it in his coat. Perhaps he had dropped it on the way home ― but at this point he did not care much. There was not much cash in the wallet anyway, and as for credit cards, all he had to do was freeze them. He didn’t need the coat that Kitagawa was curled up in, nor the 70,000 yen inside it. He didn’t care about the pittance. He wanted to sever all relations with that man. Right here, right now, if he could.<br />
<p>Oe sat down, propped his elbows on the dining table, and cradled his head in his hands. He had gone too far. He had never been more wrong in his choice of victim.<br />
<p>Oe had no idea that Kitagawa had killed someone, and not even in the normal sense of stabbing someone in a fit of passion. The man ripped people apart. No one in a stable state of mind could do that.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>He had not expected Kitagawa to have committed such a serious crime, considering his age and demeanour. He had left prison five years ago, which meant he had been thirty. Was it possible to get out of prison at thirty for killing someone in such a cruel manner? Wasn’t it normal to be imprisoned for fifteen or twenty years for that? Or had he been a minor? Was he still in his teens when he had torn enough people apart to be called “Jack the Ripper”?<br />
<p>Oe sprang out of his seat as if he had been burned, checked the locks on his door, and chained it. He checked the locks in the kitchen and bathroom windows, and as for the living room, he even closed and locked the shutters. He knew that there was no way Kitagawa could come murder him in such a weakened condition, but Oe did not feel rested until he had fixed the locks.<br />
<p>He would be losing his life over a mere five, six hundred thousand yen sum. <i>Absolutely ridiculous</i>, he thought. He had to stop the search for Douno before he was discovered. But Kitagawa was sorely attached to the searching for the man. He would probably not be convinced if Oe suddenly brought up the topic of quitting. More than anything, Oe feared that Kitagawa would fly into a temper. In that case, it was not entirely impossible that Oe would get killed.<br />
<p>He heard pattering footsteps. They were coming closer. He could not tell whether they were his wife’s or his daughter’s, but Oe kept his head down. He was called, but he did not answer. He did not feel like talking to anyone.<br />
<p>A piece of paper was slipped across the table into Oe’s vision. On it was a series of numbers. For a moment, Oe could not comprehend what they were.<br />
<p>“I want you take a look at this. Miharu’s grades aren’t very good.” At his wife’s words, he finally realized he was looking at a percentile chart. An intense loathing overtook Oe towards the woman for coming to him about such an insignificant matter when there were more important things at hand.<br />
<p>“I’m thinking of sending her to short-term intensive cram school, even just for the winter holidays. They’re still taking registrations. It’ll be about forty thousand yen, though.”<br />
<p>Money again. Money, money, money....<br />
<p>“Besides, she would need to learn the tricks on how to pass the entrance exams.”<br />
<p><i>I didn’t care. I never cared about money, but that was all she talked about, so I was forced into frauding a dangerous guy like him. </i><br />
<p>Oe swept up the percentile chart in front of him and threw it on the ground.<br />
<p>“What the hell was that?” His wife’s usual high voice turned so low, it seemed to crawl across the ground.<br />
<p>“If she’s not going to study, make her go to work,” Oe said.<br />
<p>“Miharu says she wants to go to university. It would be unfair to make her work.”<br />
<p>“It’s for her own good if she gets out into society, instead of studying pointlessly.” When Oe looked up, his wife’s face was twisted in fury as she glared at him. Oe felt neither panic nor fear. This woman was not Jack the Ripper. In the end, this was all she amounted to.<br />
<p>“It’s your fault that we’re poor,” she accused. “Do you know how humiliating it is that we can’t even give her an education because we can’t pay for it?”<br />
<p><i>Shut up, shut up, shut up!</i> Oe plugged his ears. <i>This isn’t the time to be having arguments like this. I’m going through hell of a lot more right now. If I take one wrong step, it could cost me my life. This and everything is all your fault.</i><br />
<p>His wife changed tactics when she saw Oe’s stubborn attitude. Suddenly, her voice turned sickeningly silky. <br />
<p>“Please, will you let her go to cram school? I’m begging you.”<br />
<p>Oe’s brain began to ache dully. His hands were already full with his own affairs; he wished she would not bother him with trivialities.<br />
<p>“Why don’t you use the money that you’ve saved up behind my back?”<br />
<p>His wife’s face suddenly blanched.<br />
<p>“You keep it behind the frame of the painting in the bedroom, don’t you? Last time I checked, you had 140,000.”<br />
<p>“Y-You―”<br />
<p>“This conversation is over. Get out. I still have work to do!” he snarled at her. His wife bit her lip angrily, then stormed out of the living room. As if fearing for his life wasn’t enough, his wife had to add to his troubles with trivial concerns like percentile grades and cram school. If his wife were to die right now, Oe knew he would probably not shed a single tear.<br />
<p>How would he evade Kitagawa? No matter how many possibilities he pondered, the only conclusion he reached was that he would have to stop the search for Douno. If he were to stop, he would have to discuss it with Kitagawa at least once. He would also need a report. Oe brought out his laptop to the living room and began to type up a report at the dining room table. He had not collected his sixth payment yet, but having already received 500,000 yen, he was afraid of what Kitagawa might say if he came out with a report that was half-baked.<br />
<p><i>I wish Kitagawa’s cold would just get worse until he died. Then everything would come to a clean close, without any loose strings to take care of.</i><br />
<p>But no matter how hard he wished for the man to die, he knew people did not expire that easily. Oe knew it well, which was why he pressed on in his efforts to put a decent-looking report together into the wee hours of the morning.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Every day, in a continuous stream, the television broadcast news of murder. Three hundred and sixty-five days a year, people both young and old were killed. And for the number of people who were killed, there were always killers. Even if they were caught and imprisoned, once they completed their sentences, they came out again. It was a perfectly logical thing, yet Oe had never thought about it. It was unpleasant. No one liked the idea that someone beside them could be a psychotic killer.<br />
<p>Perhaps the temperature had dropped early in the morning―there was a layer of frost over the grass at the side of the road. Oe sat being bumped along by the train, staring absently out of the windows, which were clouded white with water droplets.<br />
<p>It had been five days since he took Kitagawa back to his dorm at the Kitajima Steel Factory. The following day after he had found out Kitagawa was a murderer, Oe was constantly on guard, thinking Kitagawa would come bursting into his office or apartment in a rage, but as one day passed, and then another, Oe began to feel reassured that it was not going to happen.<br />
<p>He had done nothing suspicious around Kitagawa. He had met the man at the park, just as he promised, and had reported his progress. He had neither fled nor hidden. He had never pressured Kitagawa, even if payments came late, and he had even been considerate and told the man not to overwork himself. Unless something could convince Kitagawa that Oe was suspicious and make him dig deeper, Oe would never be exposed.<br />
<p>Oe got off the train and made his way down the sidewalk. This morning, he was planning to hand over a report of an extramarital affair investigation to his client. The husband had commissioned the investigation. His wife turned out to be deeply infatuated with a host who was five years younger than her.<br />
<p>Oe had no idea what the husband planned to do once he received the report. When Oe had reported the progress to him over the phone, the man’s responses had been calm and unruffled. Perhaps he was going to get a divorce.<br />
<p>Oe admitted that he was also tempted to cut off the shackles that bound his feet in the form of his wife and daughter. In his opinion, if it weren’t for these two existences in his life, he would not have had to resort to criminal fraud.<br />
<p>His wife stopped complaining after he pointed out her secret savings. He had no idea whether she was still planning to send their daughter to cram school or not. Either way, he did not care.<br />
<p>He turned a corner, and was not more than twenty metres away from his office when a voice stopped him in his tracks.<br />
<p>“Mr. Oe.” Oe flinched and turned around. Standing beside a vending machine near the hedges of a five-storey building was the last man he had wanted to see.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was wearing an old-fashioned black greatcoat. <br />
<p>“Are you working right now?”<br />
<p>Oe’s violent palpitations made his chest hurt. Unable to speak, Oe half-trembled, half-shook his head.<br />
<p>“You told me before not to talk to you in public, so I was wondering what to do. But I wanted to give this back as soon as I could.”<br />
<p>In his proffered hand was the wallet Oe had given up for lost.<br />
<p>“This―”<br />
<p>“You must’ve been in trouble without it. I’m sorry. Old man Tomi got his hands on it when you brought me back to the dorm the other day. I was wondering why he had a wallet exactly the same as yours, so I pulled a bluff on him and he spilled the beans. He might be a frail geezer now, but he’s still got his light touch. He said he couldn’t help it when there was such a fat-looking wallet dangling in front of him. I told him off good, and I replaced whatever the old man spent. So please, I wanna ask you not to go to the police about this.”<br />
<p>The wallet Oe had thought he lost had actually been stolen by a pickpocketing old man, and Kitagawa had brought it back. It was such a simple diagram of events, but Oe’s nervous mind struggled to sort it out.<br />
<p>“Old man Tomi’s a ripe age now, and if he gets put into jail again he’s never gonna be able to get out. That’s why―”<br />
<p>“I―I won’t go to the police. I didn’t have that much money in there anyway, and you gave it back to me in the end.”<br />
<p>Relief crossed Kitagawa’s face. “I’m really sorry,” he said, bowing his head deeply. Oe wondered why he was being apologized to, then realized he was now in a superior position. He had been stolen from, been apologized to, and he had forgiven, which made him superior.<br />
<p>“And I’ll give this back to you. Sorry for keeping it for so long.” The dry cleaner’s bag that was handed to him contained his wool coat.<br />
<p>“And this.” A wad of bills held together with an elastic band was held out also. “I took out 5,000, so it’s 65,000 now. I bought some food and medicine with it. For the rest of the amount, can I give it to you in instalments? Of course, if I make more, I’ll pay you each time.”<br />
<p>Oe had wanted to end the investigation, but now Kitagawa was talking of paying in instalments.<br />
<p>“My cold’s much better now. You took me home from the park that day, right? Sorry for the trouble. I knew it was starting to get cold outside, but I had nothing to wear because I sold my coat. But now I know that nothing’s gonna come of it if I get sick and can’t work, so I’ll be careful next time.”<br />
<p>The wad of crumpled bills seemed to carry an immense weight. Oe remembered what he had said to his wife a good while ago.<br />
<p><i>“You have enough to wear to keep you warm. Don’t be greedy.”</i> His wife had argued back with, “That’s not enough.” And because it was “not enough” by his own standards, Oe had driven a total stranger into selling his coat in order to pay him.<br />
<p>Oe’s head drooped, and his line of sight caught the fray on the mouth of Kitagawa’s coat sleeve.<br />
<p>“You can actually find a lot of stuff to wear from things that people’ve cast off. Old man Tomi found this for me on garbage day. Oh, right. Old man Tomi is also the one who paid for your coat to get dry cleaned. He says it was the least he could do to apologize.”<br />
<p><i>Stop putting your poverty on display</i>, Oe thought contemptuously. <i>You should know how embarrassing it is to wear something that’s been thrown out once. You have no common sense. You have no dignity.</i><br />
<p>But it did not matter how much Oe placed the man below him. Kitagawa was a decent working man. He was only poor because Oe was syphoning all of his wages. If Kitagawa had a net income of close to 200,000 yen a month, he would probably have no problem buying a coat or a futon. If he saved up a little, perhaps he could even move into an apartment.<br />
<p>Oe’s fear towards Kitagawa’s Jack-the-Ripper persona had not diminished; but the more he talked to the man, the weaker the impression became. Perhaps it was because he could not detect any evil in the man’s words.<br />
<p>Oe knew that now was the time he could bring it up; now was the only time to say it.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa, are you off work today?”<br />
<p>“By the hour,” Kitagawa said, with his hands still in his pockets. “I wanted to see you, so I took the morning off.”<br />
<p>“Would I be able to take you out for a bit? There are... things I’d like to discuss with you.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa tilted his head slightly. “Sure,” he said nevertheless.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>They entered a cafe called Royal, situated in a back alley behind the station. One could tell it was run down from its very storefront, and it was a cafe Oe had never entered before. If he went to a cafe he frequented, he would probably run into his chief; if he went to a slightly fashionable one, there was a possibility he would run into Katori or Nobeoka. He wanted to avoid both situations at all costs.<br />
<p>He had not chosen to go to the park today partly out of consideration for Kitagawa, since being in the cold would not be good for a man just recovering from an illness. The other part, his honest reason, was because he did not want to be alone with this man in a deserted park. If by any chance they should get into an argument, he knew as long as he was surrounded by people, someone was bound to help.<br />
<p>Kitagawa hesitated slightly before entering the cafe, which caught Oe’s eye. He was reminded of the man’s saving habits, which were so strict he refused to take the taxi even when he was too ill to walk.<br />
<p>“I invited you out, so I’ll handle the bill,” Oe said, one step ahead of Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“I’m not penniless, you know,” the man answered, smiling wryly.<br />
<p>The sign outside was so faded it was hard to make the name of the cafe out, and the interior was just as pitiful. The light-green vinyl couch had turned dark from grime, and there were conspicuous tears in the upholstery. The menus wedged into the holder were also dirty with fingerprints and food stains.<br />
<p>Kitagawa kept his coat on even after entering the cafe. The front was buttoned up, which made his whole outfit black. He looked like a bat.<br />
<p>They both ordered coffee. The owner of the cafe, a bald, surly man perhaps in his sixties, took their order with an almost angry expression on his face.<br />
<p>“Up until now, I’ve been searching for Mr. Douno with a focus on city halls,” Oe began. “Yesterday, I finished the search in the Kyushu region, but I wasn’t able to find any new information about Mr. Douno. The only regions that are left are Okinawa and Hokkaido, but since you’ve told me Mr. Douno had no strong accent, I’m sure we can exclude the far north and south regions from our search. From experience, I have to say that without new information, it will be very difficult to find him.”<br />
<p>The man listened to Oe solemnly.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa, you’re straining yourself considerably to pay for my investigation fees, aren’t you?”<br />
<p>The man blinked in surprise. “Not really,” he said.<br />
<p>“You were working night and day. All that exhaustion must have led to your bad cold.”<br />
<p>“But my cold has nothing to do with you, does it?” the man asked in bewilderment. Oe was slightly irritated at the man for not picking up his cue.<br />
<p>“Alright, then let me say this plainly. No matter how much we continue the search, Mr. Douno will not be found. Mr. Kitagawa, you’ll only be creating more burden for yourself. Why don’t we call off the investigation for now? You should work on regaining your strength, then when you have a little more money to spend comfortably, you can have someone resume the search in a way that won’t tax you so much.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa tipped his head and scratched the back of it.<br />
<p>“I know you guys cost a lot of money. I’m still asking you despite that.”<br />
<p>“But―”<br />
<p>“I know I won’t have to work night and day if I stop searching. But I <i>want</i> you to search for him. It’s my own selfishness. And since I’m being selfish, I have to deal with it if I’m sleepy or if I’m hungry, or if I’m cold.”<br />
<p><i>This man understands</i>―the fact suddenly dawned on Oe. He did not have to go out of his way to explain each and every thing; this man knew what he had to do, and how to do it.<br />
<p>“I understand your dedication to this, Mr. Kitagawa. But it’s been hard on me to investigate Mr. Douno alongside my main job. Since I’ve just finished investigating the Kyushu region, I think this is a good place to draw the line. ―Please, let me end this investigation.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa remained silent and refused to give assent.<br />
<p>Oe’s pressuring tone still yielded no answer from him. Their coffees were brought amidst the silence. Oe was prepared for the instant coffee that was served, but it was still disgusting to taste. Kitagawa did not even touch his. Things would go nowhere if they continued in silence.<br />
<p>“I’m sure Mr. Douno is living his own life out there somewhere,” Oe said. “Mr. Kitagawa, you deserve to start living your own life, too.”<br />
<p>After a long, long silence, Kitagawa finally opened his mouth.<br />
<p>“You’re telling me to give up,” he said bluntly, in an almost sullen way.<br />
<p>“I think it will make things easier for both you and Mr. Douno.”<br />
<p>The man fell silent again. It was quiet inside the cafe. There were no other customers inside, nor were there any coming in. The owner was reading the newspaper behind the counter. Oe glanced at his watch. He had to get back to his office within the next half-hour to meet his client who was coming to pick up his report.<br />
<p>“Are you married?” came a sudden question after the long silence.<br />
<p>“Me? I am. I have a wife and daughter.”<br />
<p>“How would you feel if someone told you to divorce and marry someone else?”<br />
<p>Oe cocked his head.<br />
<p>“Would you do as you were told and divorce her?”<br />
<p>“I don’t know what you mean. Why would I have to divorce my wife and marry another woman?”<br />
<p>“Because that’s what you’re telling me to do.”<br />
<p>Apparently Kitagawa was using Oe’s marriage as an analogy for his and Douno’s relationship.<br />
<p>“Our situations are totally different, Mr. Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>“They’re the same.”<br />
<p>“We’re proper husband and wife under the law. It’s not a romantic relationship.”<br />
<p>“I’m not talking about rules. I’m talking about the heart.”<br />
<p>Oe hesitated at Kitagawa’s claim about the heart. He had wasn’t sure what Kitagawa was trying to say, but he could infer the gist of it.<br />
<p>“I go to work because I want to see Douno,” Kitagawa said. “If I don’t work and make money, I can’t pay to have him looked for. Everyone tells me to give up. But I have nothing else I want to do or buy.”<br />
<p>Oe’s throat was parched. He had drained his coffee during their silence. Oe swallowed a mouthful of water, which was revolting and gave off an odour.<br />
<p>“I always think about it―about what I could do to find Douno. No matter how much I think, I have no idea what I can do. But you guys can find him because you’re pros, right? If I study and become a detective, would I be able to look for Douno myself?”<br />
<p>Oe could not give an answer.<br />
<p>“Do I need some kind of license to be a detective? Do I have to be out of university?”<br />
<p>Oe realized that “giving up” was simply not an option for this man. An unhappy, pitiful man for being unable to give up―that was what Oe thought.<br />
<p>“I think I’ve told you this before,” he began, “but detectives aren’t all-powerful, nor are we perfect. And in this world, there are things that can be done and things simply can’t. As proof of that, I was unable to find Mr. Douno.”<br />
<p>He saw Kitagawa chew his lip.<br />
<p>“Give up on Mr. Douno,” Oe said. “You say you don’t have anything you want or want to do, but if you keep on living, that will change. I’m sure you’ll find something to replace him.”<br />
<p>Oe spoke tentatively towards the man who sat staring silently his feet, a man for whom giving up was not a choice. He earnestly thought he was doing what was best for this man by placing a concluding period on his futile feelings.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The day after talking to Kitagawa, Oe sent a package to the Maple Dormitory of Kitajima Steel Factory, containing the borrowed reports and his own report, which spanned twenty pages. “If you have any questions, please feel free to ask,” he wrote, with his cellular e-mail address. He knew Kitagawa did not own a cell phone, but he did not want to give the man his number.<br />
<p>A week passed after mailing the report, and there was no contact from Kitagawa. If the man really had to contact him, he would probably use an Internet cafe or borrow someone’s cell phone. Oe interpreted his lack of communication as a sign that Kitagawa was satisfied with his report.<br />
<p>Thus, his short relationship with Jack the Ripper came to an end. Oe managed to garner the entire amount of five hundred and sixty-five thousand yen without being exposed for fraud. He would be lying if he said he did not feel guilty, but in the end, he had still given valuable life lessons to that man.<br />
<p>Oe felt like Kitagawa would continue his search forever, unfazed by failure. Perhaps the man was happiest while he was searching. Happiness for him was probably waiting and longing for the day to be reunited with Douno, or an idealized figure of him which his memories had created. However much money that man ended up spending, or whether he fell ill from overwork, was none of Oe’s business now. The man had already exited the stage on which his fraud had been enacted.<br />
<p>The year was coming to a close, with only three days left. One afternoon, and Oe was in the middle of putting his arms through his coat sleeves to go out for some questioning when the doorbell of the office rang. Nobeoka went to get it immediately. The man who entered was of medium stature and build and appeared to be in his sixties. He was bespectacled and holding a small black leather bag. He was dressed smartly, and had a dignified air. His aura bespoke a president of a town factory.<br />
<p>“I’m here because I heard that a detective by the name of Mr. Oe works here.”<br />
<p>Oe was surprised to be specified by name. It looked like the bespectacled man did not know him by face, for he made the smooth explanation to Nobeoka even while the man in question was standing close by.<br />
<p>“An acquaintance of mine had his case taken care of by Mr. Oe. I’ve heard he was very nice to him, so I was wondering if I might ask Mr. Oe to take my case.”<br />
<p>It was common to get clients through word-of-mouth. Nobeoka was glancing this way. Oe’s questioning today only consisted of going around to random houses in the vicinity of the target’s neighbourhood, and he had no set time schedule. He made a circle with his thumb and forefinger in an “OK” sign to Nobeoka, then slowly approached the man in the glasses.<br />
<p>“Hello. Nice to meet you. I’m Oe.”<br />
<p>The man opened his mouth as if surprised.<br />
<p>“Nice to meet you. I’m Shiba,” he said immediately afterwards, offering his hand for a handshake. Oe directed the man to the guests’ sofa, and sat down across from him.<br />
<p>“May I ask, just for reference? Who did you hear about me from?”<br />
<p>Shiba placed his bag on the table as he spoke. “Seiichi Saito,” he said with a smile. In Oe’s twenty-plus years as a detective, he had had several dozen clients with the last name of Saito. He did not remember full names, unless they were particularly memorable clients. But Oe could not bring himself to say he didn’t know.<br />
<p>“I see,” he smoothed it over.<br />
<p>The man, who had been smiling pleasantly until now, suddenly leaned forward and dropped his voice.<br />
<p>“Now, you see, it seems like this acquaintance of mine, he’s... how shall I say this? I think he’s been victim to a fraud. But I don’t have any definitive evidence. This is where I’d like for you to come in and investigate, Mr. Oe.”<br />
<p><i>What a troublesome job</i>, Oe thought. All fraudster types tended to be extremely careful. They were cautious not to leave any clues behind.<br />
<p>“I’d just like to know before I start discussing things with you,” Shiba began, “ah, around how much is your fee? Is it really about 200,000 yen a month, like they say?” The man looked concerned. Investigation fees were not cheap; Oe could understand Shiba’s apprehension about the price. <br />
<p>“Well, let’s see,” Oe began, stroking his chin with his fingertips. “It can range depending on the type of investigation, which would affect the number of people working on the case. For example, an investigation using only the phone and computer would come to about a 150,000 to a 160,000 a month, plus necessary expenses. Investigations that need footwork―tailing, and such―will require more manpower, which would drive up the price.”<br />
<p>“A hundred and fifty to sixty thousand. That’s rather expensive,” Shiba sighed, then hunched his shoulders. “Do you also happen to charge by the half-hour for consultation, like some lawyers do?”<br />
<p>Oe laughed. “Consultation is free. We only start charging after we’ve contracted with the client and begun the investigation.”<br />
<p>“That’s a relief,” said Shiba, his face relaxing.<br />
<p>“For fraud, depending on the details, it may be better to leave things to the police rather than asking us to investigate. Would you be able to tell me some specifics about your situation?” Oe proposed. For some reason, Shiba grinned.<br />
<p>“The person I want you to investigate is actually a detective. My acquaintance asked a certain detective to personally investigate the whereabouts of a certain man. The period of the investigation was two and a half months, and the fee was 565,000 yen. In the end, the man was never found, but I did get to see the detective’s investigation report.”<br />
<p>Oe clasped his hands tighter in his lap. It wasn’t even hot, yet sweat was pouring off his back. Who was this man? What was he?<br />
<p>Shiba let out a testy sigh, then rested his chin on his right hand.<br />
<p>“And what this detective did was he called city halls all over the country to see if he could find any acquaintances of this man. The report had a list of all the city hall names and telephone numbers. The ones that he called but couldn’t get a good answer were marked with an ‘X’. At first, I was impressed at how detailed and thorough detectives were, but there was one town which he mistook for a city. It happened to be near my wife’s hometown, which is why I noticed. But you see, that box was also marked with an ‘X’. If the detective had actually looked it up and called, he would have found out that it was a ‘town hall’ and not a city hall. I thought this was very strange. So I called up some city halls on the list, and all of them claimed there had been no phone call inquiring about a Douno. I could understand maybe one or two―maybe they’d forgotten―but <i>all</i> of them told me the same thing. Sounds kind of fishy, doesn’t it?”<br />
<p>Oe’s saliva made a loud gurgling noise in his throat as he swallowed it. He was terrified of this man in front of him. He had no idea what the man was thinking. The man knew the truth about Oe’s fraud, yet he was not angry, nor did he seem to intend to blame him. He spoke calmly of it as if it were someone else’s affair.<br />
<p>“I think writing a report saying you investigated even though you haven’t is a clear act of fraud. If this detective actually did the work, the numbers that he called should be in the call history of his phone at home, on his cell phone, or on the phone at his office. If we could look into that, I think we could prove that the detective was conducting a fraud, don’t you think?”<br />
<p>Oe’s hands, his knees, began to tremble. <i>What should I do, what should I do, what should I do...</i> just the thought made his head feel like it was about to explode. One look at his call history and everything would be over for him. Would he be able to scrape by by saying he called from a public telephone? Perhaps he could force his way past the telephone issue with that argument, but if someone were to verify the fact with all of the city halls in his list, he would not be able to explain it away.<br />
<p>Oe was overcome with regret. He had done it to make the report look thick so it would visually satisfy Kitagawa as well. He had made the list of city halls to gain pages, not bothering to look it over once, assuming Kitagawa would not scrutinize a list of place names and phone numbers.<br />
<p>The sofa on which Shiba sat creaked slightly.<br />
<p>“But what irks me the most is that I smell some bad intentions coming from this detective. He claimed it was a personal contract, so he didn’t draw up the paperwork. He didn’t issue receipts for the cash payments he received. It kind of makes me wonder if he didn’t go in planning to trick his client from the very beginning.”<br />
<p>Their conversation lapsed momentarily. As if to seize on the opportunity, Nobeoka brought them tea.<br />
<p>“Oh, why thank you,” Shiba said, inclining his head politely. He took a sip. “Well, but it’s true that I don’t have any proof. A verbal agreement was all the detective and client had between them. The report’s also not handwritten, and there’s no name attached. If the other end were to say he knows nothing about it, and that I’m making stuff up, that would be the end of that. But the thing is―the detective’s met with the client’s co-workers, and told them he was a detective and that he was looking for a certain man. They’ve all got pasts they’d rather not talk about, but numbers speak loudly. If we get five or six of them to testify, I think we’d be able to prove it somehow.”<br />
<p>An image of himself getting arrested for fraud flashed across Oe’s mind. The disappointed gaze of his chief, who had trusted him. The disdainful gazes of Katori and Nobeoka. He would get fired from his job and his income would cease altogether. His wife would divorce him, and his daughter would be unable to go to cram school, much less university. For mere pocket money, a measly 600,000 yen, the entire forty-eight years of his life that he built up would be negated because of one rash idea.<br />
<p>Oe looked up, but he could not meet Shiba’s eyes. He was like a frog being stared down by a hungry snake. He didn’t feel like he could escape once he was reported to the police. Perhaps―perhaps it wasn’t too late. He could smooth things over before the matter ballooned out of hand, before the police got involved.<br />
<p>“―I’ll... I’ll give the money back.” Oe shook like a leaf as he stuttered in a voice barely louder than the chirp of a bird.<br />
<p>“Of course he’ll pay the money back, if we manage to nab the detective,” Shiba said in a matter-of-fact way. “That’s beyond question. But to be done with that? Well, my acquaintance might be willing to forgive and forget, but it just doesn’t seem like enough to me. I want the man to really <i>know</i> what he’s done.”<br />
<p>Shiba smiled pleasantly at Oe.<br />
<p>“If you do something bad, you should be punished equally under the law. As humans, we need to follow these rules. Don’t you think so, Mr. Oe?”<br />
<p>Ignoring Oe, whose lips were trembling for an answer, Shiba got to his feet.<br />
<p>“Alright. I guess that means I should really go to the police instead of a detective agency. We didn’t get any further than a consultation after all, but this has given me a very good picture of things. Thank you.”<br />
<p><i>But I haven’t said anything. I haven’t said anything.</i> However, Shiba inclined his head as if they had just finished a very productive discussion indeed, turned on his heel, and made for the exit. Oe sprang to his feet to go after the man, but he lost his balance and ended up tripping head-first over nothing between two desks.<br />
<p>“A-Are you alright, Mr. Oe?” Nobeoka ran up to him, but Oe violently pushed him aside and half-tumbled down the stairs. He burst out of the office building and glanced left and right. Across the street was Shiba about to turn a corner. <br />
<p>“W-Wait! Wait a minute!” Oe ran as fast as his unsteady legs would carry him, and caught Shiba by the arm just as he went around the bend.<br />
<p>“Whatever you do, please don’t go to the police. I’ll pay the money back. I’ll compensate, pay extra for the trouble I caused. Please, I have a wife and daughter at home. My daughter’s going to university next year, and―”<br />
<p>A look of contempt. The man’s thick eyebrow twitched.<br />
<p>“It would cost money to send my daughter to school,” Oe continued, “and I needed the―the money―that’s why―”<br />
<p>The corners of Shiba’s mouth jerked up as if he were smiling. Oe’s clinging hands were roughly shaken off, and Oe collapsed to his knees on the cement sidewalk.<br />
<p>“Does everyone who’s in need of money trick other people to get it, like you did?”<br />
<p>The sky was leaden. The wind whipping his cheeks was icy.<br />
<p>“Yours is just an excuse.”<br />
<p>The statement sliced through Oe’s heart. Even his fingertips felt the pain. But he could not let this man leave, no matter what. Oe clung to the feet of the man who carried his fate in his hands.<br />
<p>“I’m―I’m begging you. Please forgive me. I’ll do anything―anything, so please, just don’t go to the police. My daughter, my little girl―agh!”<br />
<p>A kick sent Oe crashing backwards into the guard rails. The impact made his breath catch.<br />
<p>“You should be apologizing to Kitagawa, not me.”<br />
<p>Tears sprang to Oe’s eyes, tears of pain and humiliation. <i>How could this happen?</i> he thought. <i>Why―?</i> The passersby threw curious glances at the bawling middle-aged man not even attempting to hide his tears. Their gazes pricked Oe in passing.<br />
<p>“Tell me something, Mr. Oe.” Shiba’s eyes were now level with Oe, who sat slumped on the ground. “Do you know how much Kitagawa makes in a month?”<br />
<p>Trembling violently, Oe shook his head.<br />
<p>“At the steel factory, he works six days a week, from eight in the morning to eight at night. That’s 110,000. Still far from the 200,000 he needs. So from nine at night to five in the morning the next day, he worked at construction sites. Three days a week of that, and that’s 70,000 a month. But that still wasn’t enough, so he worked all day on Sundays, too.”<br />
<p>The image of Kitagawa’s dirt-stained face at the nighttime construction site crossed Oe’s mind.<br />
<p>“But all that work still couldn’t buy the man a decent living. He couldn’t even get a decent meal. When I saw him, he was nibbling on mouldy bread crusts like they were the best things he’d eaten, you piece of shit!”<br />
<p>Shiba’s angry yell sent spit flying into Oe’s face.<br />
<p>“Tell me, shouldn’t you have been the one nibbling on bread crusts, hm?”<br />
<p>Oe’s gritted teeth chattered, but not from the cold. Kitagawa had been growing thinner each time they met―he knew. He knew, but had pretended not to notice.<br />
<p>“I―I’m sorry.”<br />
<p>Shiba opened his leather bag in front of Oe. He took out a voice recorder with a microphone attached to it.<br />
<p>“Our conversation at the office should be in here, too. You said you would pay the money back. That’s hard proof right there. You won’t be able to talk your way out of this one. This is the end for you.”<br />
<p><i>The end, the end.</i> The words spun around inside his head. Oe cradled his head in his hands. Fresh tears spilled out of his wet eyes.<br />
<p>“Gh... agh... augh...” Noises, somewhat akin to whimpering, spilled from his half-open mouth. <br />
<p>Shiba, who had been looking at him in disgust, narrowed his eyes.<br />
<p>“Do you want me to call off going to the police?”<br />
<p>Oe nodded vigorously as his whole body trembled and snot dripped from his nose.<br />
<p>“I’m the only one who knows you’ve been tricking Kitagawa,” Shiba said. “I heard his story, read the report, and did research on my own because it was bothering me. Kitagawa doesn’t suspect a thing about you.”<br />
<p>Amidst despair and tragedy, Oe’s heart gave a painful throb.<br />
<p>“I’ll keep quiet to both Kitagawa and the police. But in exchange, you’re going to find Douno within three months from today.”<br />
<p>“Th―That’s impossible!” Oe shook his head jerkily. “I only know his name, his age, and his occupation before he went to prison. There’s no way I can find him with this information alone. Larger agencies have tried searching and failed.”<br />
<p>“That’s none of my concern.” Shiba shrugged lightly. “I’m giving you a suspension on your sentence, and this is it. You better search as if your life depended on it. If you can’t find him after three months, I’m tipping the police off. Enjoy your time in the slammer.”<br />
<p>Oe was given no choice. If he wanted to protect his family, his current life, he would have to do whatever it took to find Douno, even if it was like combing through all the sand on the beach for a grain of rice.<br />
<p>“Alrighty,” Shiba grunted as he straightened out of his crouch. He looked down at Oe, who was still squatting on the ground. “Shall we go back to your office, then? I won’t tell you to do the work for free. I think I can tolerate an agreement to be your client, and that way you can be open about the search. And let me remind you that I’m not threatening you. This is a legitimate job.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Shiba underwent all the necessary procedures and became Oe’s official client. Oe had no time to lose to uncertainty or hesitation. He had only three months. If he could not find Douno within three months, he would be reported to the police and would lose everything he had. All the time he could get was not enough for an investigation with as little information as this, and he could not afford to waste a minute.<br />
<p>Oe had officially taken the case on December 29, right before all of Japan entered the year-end holidays. Immediately after opening the case, Oe made a furious succession of phone calls to city halls in the Kanto region and surrounding areas. In five continuous hours of calling, he had only been able to confirm a response from four locations. Starting the next day, all of Japan’s city halls closed as they entered their New Year holidays, forcing Oe to suspend his investigation temporarily.<br />
<p>The New Year dawned, and business resumed on the fourth. Oe plunged himself again into the task of bombarding city halls with phone calls. He had considered writing e-mails instead, but written language carried less of an impact than a direct vocal conversation. Most likely he would be brushed off politely by e-mail. It took Oe a month to cover all of the city halls in the nation, calling every day from nine in the morning to when the offices closed at five in the evening. Even after all the effort he had expended, he was unable to acquire any information about Douno working at any of those locations.<br />
<p>Oe pleaded with Shiba to borrow Douno’s search reports from Kitagawa without letting him know who was asking for them. The reports had been left in the same state as when Oe gave them back, for the scrap of paper with the sketch of Douno was still left inside. Oe scattered the reports across the living room, taking point-form notes of snippets that caught his eye, and thought hard. His wife and daughter regarded him apprehensively from afar.<br />
<p>Just as an agency had done in a past report, Oe tried frequenting Internet sites that attracted groping enthusiasts. He pretended to be a forum-goer, and made a lighthearted post asking if anyone had gone to jail for groping. He received many replies, and a few among them had been arrested before, though they had merely been indicted and charged a fine. They had not served jail sentences. In fact, those who got themselves into jail were criticized for being “clumsy”.<br />
<p>According to groping enthusiasts, there were far more disadvantages to serving a sentence. One would lose his job and social status, and if one was married, he could possibly be pushed into a divorce. If things could be settled with a mere couple ten-thousands in fines, there was no reason to do otherwise. Then why had Douno gone to prison for groping? Oe could think of no other reason than that Douno’s case had been malicious enough to warrant it. However, according to the references he had on hand, Douno was a first-time offender, and there was nothing to confirm the possibility of him being a habitual groper.<br />
<p>An upright man working at city hall who transformed into a malevolent groper. Perhaps Douno was two-faced. And surely his groper side was his true self.<br />
<p>A man as malevolent as him was bound to frequent enthusiast websites like these, but no matter how many juicy topics Oe dropped, he failed to catch anyone in his net suggestive of Douno.<br />
<p>His prospects, his future, his life, depended on it. As Oe continued the desperate search for Douno, he was simultaneously aware of his growing hatred towards the man. If Douno looked seedy enough to match his personality, it was consolation enough; but Kitagawa’s sketch showed a man who looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly, and was average as average could be. Yet the man coolly and brazenly engaged in these appalling deeds. Kitagawa adored Douno, but the fact that Douno had seduced another man while having a female lover already gave a glimpse into the kind of immoral man that he was.<br />
<p><i>What would ever come of finding a man like him?</i> Every time Oe hit a wall in his search, he mentally badmouthed the man between his masses of scattered research material. Douno had the man so in love with him, but had not even come to pick him up when he was released. Even if Douno was found, and even if he and Kitagawa were to meet again, Kitagawa would probably only end up being politely brushed off. Just imagining what was waiting for this man at the end of his desperate search made Oe feel pity for Kitagawa, although as one who had tricked him, he was not entitled to say much. Nevertheless, Kitagawa did not deserve this.<br />
<p><i>Douno should never be found. They should never meet again.</i> But despite what Oe personally thought, his assignment still had a deadline, and his future still depended on it. For his own sake, Oe had no choice but to devote his entire being into searching for Douno, this despicable man.<br />
<p>Oe’s daughter had apparently applied for both national and private universities, but Oe himself had no idea. The results from the private university came first, and she had successfully been offered admission. Oe found this out through a congratulatory phone call from his wife’s mother. His wife had told him nothing. According to his wife’s mother, the results from the national university were yet to be released.<br />
<p>Oe had previously thought it flatly impossible to send his daughter to a private university, but at this point he did not care anymore. If it came to it, he would make her work a part-time job, and he would start working for the construction company. It would work out somehow.<br />
<p>What wasn’t going to work out was the search for Douno. No matter where he looked or what stone he turned over, he was unable to find even a fragment of a lead. He was doing anything but whiling time away, but time still seemed to whizz by. By the time he had entered the last month of his investigation, Oe’s stress level had reached its peak.<br />
<p>It was already March, yet it had been snowing since morning. Oe used his lunch break to call Shiba out of work and meet him at a coffee shop close to the factory.<br />
<p>Shiba worked at the same Kitajima Steel Factory as Kitagawa. Kitagawa had been working there first, and Shiba had come into the factory in December of the last year. The two had apparently first met in their shared cell in prison, but had grown distant after being released. When they reunited at the factory, Shiba was so shocked by how thin Kitagawa had become that he thoroughly interrogated him on why he had become that way. The resulting end point had been Oe’s fraud.<br />
<p>“I've exhausted my options.”<br />
<p>It was lunch hour, and the coffee shop was crowded. The sign outside fashionably indicated in French that the shop was a cafe, and many of the customers were young. Amidst them, the harrowed-looking detective in his forties and the man in his sixties across from him, wearing a jumpsuit embroidered with the words “Kitajima Steel Factory”, were sorely out of place.<br />
<p>However, at this point Oe had no energy to spare in selecting a suitable coffee shop, nor did he care whether they would stand out or not.<br />
<p>“Run out of options, huh? Isn’t it your job to find people?” Shiba exhaled a short puff of cigarette smoke. His cavalier tone only further irritated Oe’s wrung nerves.<br />
<p>“I’ve said this many times before, but we simply don’t have enough information. I can’t even narrow down the search range. I need to know more about Douno. Even whether he had a slight accent or not. Anything, no matter how small.”<br />
<p>“Douno? He spoke clean, standard Japanese. He didn’t have an accent.”<br />
<p>“Are you sure he didn’t have any kind of accent at all?”<br />
<p>“You’re a persistent one,” Shiba smiled drily. Upon thorough consideration, Oe decided to conduct the investigation again focused on city halls. Yes, it was over six years ago, but Douno had definitely worked at one. There had to be some remaining proof of it. If Oe could find out which city hall he worked at, he would be able to find Douno’s acquaintances. If Douno kept in contact with them, he would be able to find out Douno’s address.<br />
<p>Oe mentally abandoned the regions far-flung from Tokyo. Some people spoke standard Japanese in non-urban areas, but he had to narrow it down to the more urban centre, where he had a better chance.<br />
<p>“Douno was imprisoned for indecent assault, right? Did he say anything about whether it was in a train or in a park, and if it was a train, did he mention which line it was on?”<br />
<p>Shiba knitted his brow and folded his arms. “Hmm,” he quietly thought aloud. “He wasn’t the type to go on and on about himself much.”<br />
<p>“Even the tiniest thing. Please try to remember.”<br />
<p>The man lapsed deep in thought. “Come to think of it,” he said finally, “I remember Douno saying he was wrongly accused.”<br />
<p>“Wrongly accused?” Oe repeated.<br />
<p>“The pen is full of people claiming false accusations, but Douno might have been telling the truth. There was no way to tell, since his sentence was already finalized, but...”<br />
<p>“Why did you believe Douno was falsely accused, as opposed to everyone else?”<br />
<p>Shiba scratched his temple. <br />
<p>“That’s not an easy question to answer,” he said. “I guess it was because he was normal. He was honest and compassionate. There are a lot of guys in the pen who <i>seem</i> like good people, but fakers will always let slip somewhere. Douno was never two-faced like that, and I suppose he’d always lived in a way where he never had to fake himself.”<br />
<p>Shiba left the coffee shop first, mentioning that his lunch break was only forty minutes. Oe bent over double the table, staring intently at the words he had noted down.<br />
<p>“Standard Japanese, Kanto region, city hall, honest, not two-faced, falsely accused.”<br />
<p>Oe put himself in Douno’s shoes. Perhaps Douno was actually guilty, but for the sake of argument, Oe simulated a scenario where Douno was innocent.<br />
<p>He was an honest, normal man who worked at city hall. He was accused of groping, but because he was unable to prove his innocence, he was imprisoned. As a result, he was forced to terminate his job. His social status plummeted to the ground. He was left with a criminal record. Now that Oe thought about it, it was a cruel story, indeed. He had done nothing. Douno’s anger at the unfairness of it all must have been enough to keep him awake at night.<br />
<p>Even after finishing his sentence and being set free, he would probably not be happy. Why? Because his time in prison and his criminal record would all have been “unnecessary” if it was indeed a false accusation.<br />
<p>Why did he have to get arrested? Why did he have to go to prison? Who was to blame? To whom was he to direct his anger? Was it the police, who mistakenly arrested him? If it was a groping incident, there must have been a victim. Would it be the victim, who wrongly thought he was the groper? What could he do to relieve his mind of this irritation?<br />
<p>Oe left the coffee shop trapped in his agonized thoughts. He continued to imagine, still in Douno’s shoes. If the police had done a proper investigation when he was arrested, they would have been able to find out that he was not the perpetrator. However, his sentence had been finalized and he had served it; even if he claimed a false accusation now, no one would take him seriously.<br />
<p><i>This is unbearable.</i> Oe ground his teeth. <i>The only people who would understand how I feel, who would understand this suffering I’m going through, are people who have fallen victim to the same situation as me―only other people who have been charged with a crime they didn’t commit because the police didn’t investigate properly.</i><br />
<p>A beacon suddenly flared in Oe’s head. What if―what if there was an advocacy group for those who had suffered false accusations? Wouldn’t that be all that Douno wished for and more? They were fellow comrades who carried the same wounds as him.<br />
<p>Oe had broken into a sprint. He tore up the stairs of the building and burst into the office. In his frenzy he almost crashed into Nobeoka, and as he hastily veered to the right to avoid him, he banged his ribs against the edge of the desk. It was painful, but he had no time to stop and feel it.<br />
<p>He could barely wait for the computer to start up. As he sat in his chair, he slapped the desk impatiently with his hand. The keywords he entered into the search engine were “train groping” and “false accusation”. A sliver of light had shone into this chaotic darkness. For the first time in several years, Oe was feeling a rush of anticipation course through his entire body.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>What surprised Oe was that there were actually many cases of false accusations over groping―he had just never heard about them. He also learned that there were many groups supporting those who had been falsely accused.<br />
<p>If one was arrested for groping, all he had to do was admit the crime, which would make it a light offence. The case would end in a summary indictment and a fine. On the other hand, if he did not admit to the crime, the case would be taken to court. The victim, unable to prove his innocence, would follow the worst-possible route of a guilty verdict and resulting imprisonment.<br />
<p>Douno had probably continued to plead not guilty, but gone unacknowledged and been imprisoned as a result. Yet, despite his imprisonment, he still fought. For a man with a will as strong as his, it would only be natural to join a support group for the falsely-accused after getting out of prison.<br />
<p>Oe fabricated a back story for himself: he was Taketoshi Matsuzaki, a forty-five-year-old salaryman. He had been arrested for groping when he had done nothing. When he continued to deny the crime in the face of the police’s intimidation, he was slapped with a guilty verdict based solely on the woman’s testimony, and as a result he had gone to prison. Armed with this story, Oe contacted a group called “Support for Victims Falsely Accused of Molestation”.<br />
<p>“If there’s someone in your group who has served time in prison for a false accusation of groping, like me, I want to talk to him in person. Could you introduce me to someone?” Oe proposed. The vice-manager of the organization called Kanou appeared hesitant on the other line. He explained that the group was particularly strict with the management of privacy, especially because they dealt with false accusations of sex crimes. In addition, there was also the Personal Information Protection Law, which prevented him from easily giving out members’ addresses and names.<br />
<p>“But I do understand how you feel about wanting to speak to someone who has gone through the same thing as you, Mr. Matsuzaki,” Kanou said. “Would you consider registering as a member? We’re actually hosting a gathering in Saitama in the end of March. If you could come out for that event, I’m sure you’ll be able to hear the stories of people who have been through the same ordeal.”<br />
<p>Oe immediately signed up. He received information about the gathering by e-mail the next day, and he registered to participate. The gathering was on March 27. He still had two weeks ahead of him, and it was two days before his three-month time limit.<br />
<p>Even if Oe were to participate in this group’s gathering, there was no guarantee that Douno was even part of the group. Even if Douno was registered, there was no guarantee that he would come to this gathering. At worst, Oe would come away with nothing. There was a possibility of finding Douno, but it was a mere possibility. Oe continued to sift through city halls for one that Douno had worked at, and contacted other support groups for the falsely accused. However, every inquiry to city hall was met with disappointment. As for support groups, only SVFAM seemed to be active enough to hold regular gatherings. <br />
<p>All the while Oe was hellbent on finding Douno, his daughter received an offer of admission to a national university. His wife, with whom he had barely conversed these past few days, reported to him in a clerical way.<br />
<p>“Miharu has successfully been admitted to ―― University,” she said, just as Oe was about to leave for work. Oe had resigned himself to sending her to a private university, so news of her being in accepted into a national school was a great relief to him.<br />
<p>“That’s great. I knew Miharu could do it if she put her mind to it,” Oe said enthusiastically. His wife responded in sharp contrast.<br />
<p>“I thought you didn’t care about your daughter,” she said in an oddly formal tone. <br />
<p>“Of course I care,” he retorted.<br />
<p>“So you say.” With this last offending comment, his wife turned her back to him. Her distant attitude bothered Oe slightly, but now was not the time to be appeasing his wife. If he did not find Douno by March 29th, he would be reported for fraud.<br />
<p>Oe pondered every spare moment he had. He deduced what Douno might do. Oe finally realized that his dire situation and impending doom were not the only reasons why the search consumed him―he was also thoroughly hooked on the search for Douno itself, deadline and all. The exhilaration of finding a lead was something Oe had long forgotten over the course of his lengthy career.<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-10.html">PART 10</a>.</center><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-81604446993404450042013-06-16T13:25:00.001-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.443-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 8("The Fragile Swindler" Part 3)<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-fragile-swindler_10.html">PART 7</a>.<br />
<br />
<p>Oe took the paper bag he had received from Kitagawa home to his own apartment. If it was found in the office by the chief or by Katori, he would not be able to account for it. He took a cheap dinner at a beef-bowl franchise for under 500 yen, and got home past ten o’clock. Only the light in the doorway was on, and it appeared his wife and daughter were already asleep.<br />
<p>Oe went to the kitchen and took out a beer from the fridge. He took a swig, then began to lay out the investigation reports from Kitagawa on the dining table. There were about twenty reports, and he sorted them out by year.<br />
<p>The oldest was from four years ago. In a year, Kitagawa had commissioned three to four detective agencies for two to three months each. He supposed price-friendly agencies would charge about 400,000 yen per case at the cheapest. Continue that for four years, and it added up to 6 million yen. Going by this calculation, it meant this man had already spent this ridiculous sum of money solely for the purpose of finding one man. Oe unwittingly sighed―out of exasperation.<br />
<p>Oe perused the reports in order from the oldest. He could sense from the writing the kind of difficulty each agency went through because of the lack of information.<br />
<p>Some agencies had searched for prisoners who lived in the same cell as Kitagawa and Douno. They had probably figured they could find out about Douno from other cellmates, but it was difficult to find cellmates based on just their names. They had found one man called Kakizaki, however―“Re-arrested and currently serving in prison. Unable to secure an interview,” said the report, and that was the disappointing end of that thread.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>As he read on, Oe learned that Douno had been imprisoned for indecent assault. Since it was a light offence, he had come into prison after Kitagawa but been released before him in less than a year. With Douno’s criminal history as a reference point, some agencies had accessed sites for “train groping” enthusiasts to collect information, but none had reaped anything of use.<br />
<p>Some agencies conducted proper investigations by computer and footwork to base their reports on, while another chose the unbelievably inefficient method of calling every Douno in the phone book, adding a separate charge for the phone bill. Some reports were clearly from scam agencies. “We were unable to find the target of investigation,” the report said, without even giving details on what kind of investigation was conducted.<br />
<p>It was one o’clock in the morning by the time Oe finished browsing through all of the reports. All of the other agencies had covered the methods he had thought about using himself, and some had approached the search from a standpoint he would never have thought of. If Douno had still not been found after all of this, he was never going to be found. It was impossible, no matter how you looked at it.<br />
<p>Oe put the materials back in the paper bag, and drained the rest of his beer. In his head, he drew up a scenario for the next time they would meet. In one of the reports from two years ago, the agency had called all of the city halls in the four prefectures of the Kanto region, asking if a man called Douno had ever worked there. Oe could take that and arrange it a little, saying he had broadened the search by calling the Chuubu region, but had yielded no results. Next came the Kansai region. This method was unlikely to draw suspicion, too, since it expanded on an investigation that a previous agency had done. <br />
<p>Oe fished out his wallet from his pocket. He peered inside. The bills amounted to exactly 100,000 yen. It was ten months’ worth of his allowance. Tomorrow, he would deposit this into a bank account he had made without his wife’s knowledge. If he continued this for two months, it would add up to 400,000 yen. If Kitagawa was still not suspicious of him, he would continue for another month. That would make 600,000 yen. It would amount to a small bonus.<br />
<p>Oe leaned against his chair-back and stretched backwards. The chair legs creaked dully. The man with the white shirt and black pants flitted across his mind.<br />
<p>He was terse, but not a bad man. Even with a criminal history, he still had the wits to restrain his emotions.<br />
<p>“Homosexual, huh,” Oe muttered to himself. He was not well-versed in non-heterosexual society, but he at least sort of knew the difference between transvestites and gays. Kitagawa was probably the gay type, the kind of person who didn’t have to change his body to love other men.<br />
<p>Sex with another man―just the thought of it made Oe feel sick. He knew had no say in others’ preferences, and if some people were like that, he had no choice but to accept it. Nevertheless, it was not a good feeling.<br />
<p>When it came to romance, their feelings were probably no less different than those between a man and woman, but he could not help but think it futile. They couldn’t marry, nor have children, obviously. On top of that, Japan was not an accepting place for gay people.<br />
<p><i>Futile, futile</i>, Oe repeated in his head, until he reached one conclusion: perhaps Kitagawa was the type to feel romance in misfortune. A futile relationship, a futile love, a futile search. Oe was merely a chess piece to satisfy the man’s romanticism for the futile. <br />
<p>If that was the case, he would investigate and use up the man’s money, just as Kitagawa wished. It was his goal to be futile, so the content of his investigation and the money didn’t matter. What was important was the miserable fact that he was spending so much money on the search.<br />
<p><i>Rattle, rattle.</i> The kitchen window facing the passageway outside made a sound, startling Oe out of his seat. It was not very loud―perhaps it was just the wind. His palpitating heart, however, took a while to calm down afterwards.<br />
<p>No matter what kind of logical reason he attached to it, Oe was still tricking a misdirected homosexual ex-con while knowing the man was at a disadvantage.<br />
<p>But as the past investigation reports proved, Oe was not the only one to take advantage of this man.<br />
<p>“It’s his own fault for getting tricked.”<br />
<p>Oe wished he could have another beer.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Once past mid-October, the wind rustling through the falling leaves began to carry a sad note. No amount of strong sunlight was enough to cut the chill of the wind now, and the weather made one want an extra sweater to wear over one’s shirt. Since Oe spent a lot of his time out, he could physically feel the changing seasons. Slowly but surely, they were approaching winter.<br />
<p>Oe arrived at their meeting place in the park about ten minutes past eight-thirty. Kitagawa was sitting on the bench in a white shirt and black pants, so unchanged that it made Oe feel like he was having deja vu. The only thing that had changed was the temperature.<br />
<p>When they had first met, Oe thought Kitagawa was purposely going for the classic look, but his outfit this time made Oe sure that he was not. Kitagawa obviously had nothing to wear other than this white shirt and black pants.<br />
<p>As Oe approached and got a closer view of the man, he instantly noticed how much the man’s face had changed. Kitagawa had a sturdy build to begin with, though he was not fat. In the half-month that Oe had not seen him, Kitagawa’s cheeks had become more drawn, and his face more tan.<br />
<p>“Good evening,” Oe said.<br />
<p>“How’s it coming along?” Kitagawa asked immediately.<br />
<p>Oe smiled wryly. “I read through all the reports you gave me, and I’ve expanded the search to go a little further out than the suburbs of Kanto, which was the original range. Mr. Douno doesn’t work for city hall anymore, but if there’s anyone left at his workplace whom he used to be friendly with, they might know his contact information.”<br />
<p>Oe faithfully recited the scenario he had built inside his head. Kitagawa’s face, glowing with expectation, quickly turned crestfallen.<br />
<p>Oe had originally been planning to repeat the same tactic, but he wondered if he should give Kitagawa hope by lying about a lead if he had to. If Oe came back with failure after failure, it would only discourage Kitagawa. Dissatisfaction bred suspicion. Oe wanted to avoid suspicion at all costs.<br />
<p>“We’ve only just begun the search. They say a journey of a thousand <i>ri</i> begins from one step. If we keep focused on city hall, we’re bound to find a trail that leads to Mr. Douno.”<br />
<p>He put forth encouraging words. Kitagawa, who had begun to hang his head, lifted his face and murmured, “Yeah, I guess.” Then, he continued to stare at Oe, looking like he wanted to say something. Oe swallowed nervously at his gaze.<br />
<p>“―What’s <i>ri</i>?”<br />
<p>Oe blinked rapidly at the unexpected question.<br />
<p>“I’m not very smart,” Kitagawa said. “What’s <i>ri</i>? Some kind of drug?”<br />
<p>“Um, well, a thousand <i>ri</i> is... a measurement that was used a long, long time ago, and it’s about―I wonder how long it is in our measurements? Well, anyway, it’s a really long distance. So it’s a proverb that means that any kind of journey to a faraway place starts with the step right at your feet.”<br />
<p>“Ah,” the man murmured, as if impressed. ‘A journey of a thousand <i>ri</i> starts from a single step’ was a popular proverb that even primary school students would know. If this man did not know it, he either never read books, or was bad at Language Arts class in school, or was “not very smart” as he said, and had not studied much while in school.<br />
<p>Oe was terribly curious about Kitagawa’s education, but he was reluctant to ask such a direct question. Kitagawa’s education had nothing to do with the search, and it was possible that the man had a complex towards his lack of schooling.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa, whereabouts are you from?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa said he had lived outside the prefecture during elementary school, and had begun living in this area from middle school.<br />
<p>“And your high school?” From the outskirts, Oe directed the discussion to gradually narrow down on what he wanted to know.<br />
<p>“I never went,” Kitagawa said. “I was in an orphanage, and most people started working after middle school.”<br />
<p>Oe was suddenly overcome with awkwardness, along with guilt for his nosey curiosity.<br />
<p>“But I think I heard from you that you had a mother.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa shrugged casually. “Doesn’t do much to know she’s alive if she’s not around. It might’ve been better if I didn’t have one at all. I always thought she’d come to pick me up one day. And when she did show up, all she did was ask to borrow money. And that time―” Kitagawa began to say something, then clipped his words. The street lamp illuminated half of his face, which carried a hint of sadness.<br />
<p>“How could I have known what was good and what was bad?” he said to himself.<br />
<p>Kitagawa had a mother, but she had abandoned him; once he started working, she was back to wheedle money out of him. Kitagawa was the very picture of misfortune. Luckily for Oe, his own parents had been nothing like this.<br />
<p>Kitagawa stuck a hand into his breast pocket and retrieved a rolled-up wad of crinkled 10,000-yen bills, held together with an elastic band. He thrust it out in front of Oe.<br />
<p>“Your next 100,000. That means you’ll keep searching for another half-month, right?”<br />
<p>Oe accepted the bills from the man, counted them, and put them away in the inner pocket of his jacket. Kitagawa stood up from the bench, linked his hands high above his head, and did a big stretch.<br />
<p>“A journey of a thousand <i>ri</i> starts from one step huh...” Then, he turned back to Oe. “You remind me a little bit of Douno.”<br />
<p>Oe was not exactly happy to be compared to an indecent assault convict who fooled around in bed with both sexes. However, if Oe reminded Kitagawa of someone he liked, it was an advantage for him. It would make Kitagawa less likely to see him in an unfavourable light.<br />
<p>“Is that so?” Oe replied with an affable smile that even he knew looked fake.<br />
<p>The day after receiving Kitagawa’s money, Oe called a city hall outside the prefecture with a story.<br />
<p>“My father is ill in the hospital, with barely days left to live,” he told them. “He wants to see my little brother before he dies, but my brother’s been missing. A man called Takafumi Douno was my brother’s best friend, and I think he might know where my brother is. That’s why I’m looking for Douno. I heard from my brother that Douno is working at city hall. Does he happen to work at yours?”<br />
<p>His story about his father and brother was a lie, of course. But people were more likely to feel sympathy and listen to his story if he talked about ill family members. Just as Oe expected, the person on the other line even too the trouble to flip through the registry, but no Takafumi Douno had ever worked there. This was also within Oe’s predictions.<br />
<p>A single phone call was enough to make Oe sick and tired of the time he had to wait until he got an answer from the other end. He knew he could not complain―they were searching for his sake, after all―but he had been kept waiting like this for at least twenty minutes. He figured he should have hung up and asked them to call back, but was sucked in by the person on the line, who made it sound like he could pull up the information in an instant.<br />
<p>One phone investigation was over, and Oe was satisfied. He had no intention of making a second or third call. One call was enough to exempt him from any accusations of doing nothing at all.<br />
<p>Besides, phone calls to other prefectures cost money. Oe considered charging a couple of additional ten-thousands in the name of phone bills, but decided against it. He was already making Kitagawa pay 200,000 a month. The salary of a man living in a factory dorm, with a middle-school level education and a criminal record, could hardly be high. Perhaps the man had some additional savings, but if Oe charged too much, that would soon run dry, too.<br />
<p>Oe set his target search period to three months and 600,000 yen. Things were going well now, and he had a good feeling that he could extend this for one or two more months if Kitagawa didn’t get suspicious.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Oe told his wife that he had negotiated with the chief and could expect a bonus this year. Suddenly, the griping woman turned quiet. They had not yet settled on what university their daughter was going to, but his wife seemed to give him at least some credit for negotiating. Oe did not think that a mere 600,000 yen would be enough to cover tuition and other costs of a private university, but for the present, he was out of imminent danger.<br />
<p>That day, Oe went out for drinks at an <acronym title="A Japanese pub.">izakaya</acronym> with his junior, Katori. Katori was in gloomy spirits because a disagreement with the client had led to the client fleeing without paying his entire fee. From the looks of it, it seemed the client had intended not to pay all along, and was not a case of the quality of Katori’s investigation. The chief had considered taking it to court, but decided against it as they would end up paying more in legal expenses than what they had lost in the first place. Oe’s innards boiled with anger as he realized that their giving up on court was probably also part of the client’s plan.<br />
<p>Katori was apparently attempting to drown his sorrows in drink, for he drank quickly, and passed out before long. Oe delivered the drunkard to his apartment by taxi, then walked to the nearest station. The trains were still running, and his meagre salary did not allow him the luxury of taking a taxi home as well.<br />
<p>When he turned onto a main street, there were many people in school uniforms milling about, even though it was past eleven. Oe wondered why, then spotted a prominent cram school nearby. Some of the girls were wearing the uniform of his daughter’s high school. He wondered if he would have to send Miharu to a cram school like this in order to get her into a national university, but it was too late now.<br />
<p>Oe had approached the last thirty-metre stretch to the station when he noticed the construction sign. Pedestrians had to take a detour through a narrow barricaded passage, which would make it a slightly longer walk. From the other side of the barricade, Oe could hear the intermittent dull rattling of sledgehammers, and foreign workers wearing yellow helmets were labouring away, sweating even in this chilly weather. Oe stopped in front of the detour and thumped his lower back. Katori’s limp body had been heavier than he thought, and his back was suffering for it.<br />
<p>“Mister,” he heard a voice call nearby. Oe tuned it out, figuring it was not for him.<br />
<p>“Mr. Detective.”<br />
<p>Startled, Oe spun around. A tall man was standing on the other side of the yellow barricade. He was wearing a dirty T-shirt and light blue construction pants. He looked Japanese, but the yellow helmet hid half of his head, making his face hard to see.<br />
<p>“It’s me. Don’t you recognize me?”<br />
<p>He knew that voice. It was the sucker who brought him a hundred thousand yen every month. <br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa. You work here? What about the factory?”<br />
<p>The man pulled off the helmet covering half of his head. His thin face was blackened, from the dust, perhaps, and only the whites of his eyes glittered.<br />
<p>“This is a part-time job, because you guys cost a lot of money.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s day job was probably not enough to pay a hundred thousand a month. Oe tasted bitterness in the back of his mouth, and he remembered the guilt he had forgotten until now.<br />
<p>“Any luck finding Douno?”<br />
<p>Oe was stuck for words. When he remained silent, Kitagawa cocked his head.<br />
<p>“―We can’t expect immediate results,” Oe managed to utter. “Let’s be patient.”<br />
<p>“I guess,” Kitagawa nodded slightly. “A journey of a thousand <i>ri</i> starts with a single step... was it? It must be tough for you guys, too, working so late.”<br />
<p>Oe had only been drinking. It was probably even harsher for this man, working this night job after finishing his day job. It was already past eleven thirty. How much longer was he going to work for?<br />
<p>The weather out here felt chilly for Oe, but sweat was streaming down the other man’s face. Kitagawa rubbed his face against the sleeve of his T-shirt, like a cat.<br />
<p>“You’re sweating a lot,” Oe commented.<br />
<p>“Oh, it just gets hot under the light,” Kitagawa explained. “We can’t see much at night, so they shine the lights full force.”<br />
<p>A burly voice was calling Kitagawa from a darkened area further within the barricade.<br />
<p>“Please don’t strain yourself,” Oe told him. “And Mr. Kitagawa, can you make sure not to talk to me the next time you see me out in public?”<br />
<p>The man tilted his head curiously.<br />
<p>“Today I happened to be on the way home, but sometimes I tail people at night as well. If I’m stopped, or if someone calls me a detective, it might tip my target off and scare him away.”<br />
<p>“Oh, I see. Right. I’ll be careful next time.”<br />
<p>The voice calling Kitagawa from behind rose angrily. It was practically a bellow.<br />
<p>“Noisy bastard,” Kitagawa clicked his tongue irritably. “See ya, mister,” he said, raising his right hand. He disappeared into the intermittent clamour.<br />
<p>Oe swiftly left the premises. The guilt wreathed his heart like a haze, and remained there throughout the train ride and during the entire walk from the station to his house.<br />
<p>By the time Oe returned to his apartment, having completely worn off the alcoholic buzz in his body and brain, it was already one in the morning. He showered, changed into his pyjamas, and brushed his teeth. When he entered the hallway to go to his bedroom, he bumped into his daughter, who had a mug in hand. Perhaps she had gotten thirsty while studying.<br />
<p>“Good night,” he said to her, but she replied with a plea, her head slightly cast down.<br />
<p>“Dad, I have a favour to ask you.” Oe wondered if she was going to insist that she wanted to go to a private university, or something along those lines. He felt a pricking pain in his heart at being unable to live up to her wants.<br />
<p>“Mom said no, but I think I deserve a breather for all the university prep I have to do.”<br />
<p><i>A breather</i>, Oe repeated mentally. <br />
<p>“There’s a concert next month for this indies band called Still Package. But I already spent all my allowance this month, and I don’t have money for tickets. But I wanna go. I know I’m gonna regret it if I don’t. I think going to the concert is gonna help me focus on my studying. So please, dad, can you give me 3,000 yen?”<br />
<p>So his daughter was more occupied and engrossed in going to some band’s concert, whatever their name was, rather than her university entrance exams, which were merely months away. Oe could not help but sigh. He felt ridiculous for seriously considering switching careers to send a daughter like this to a private university.<br />
<p>“Your mother said no, didn’t she?” Oe did not want to give her money, but since saying so to her face would only raise hackles, he transferred the blame to his wife.<br />
<p>“Yeah, but I really wanna go. Dad, please.”<br />
<p>His daughter put both palms together in front of her face in a plea. A man’s dirt-covered face flashed across Oe’s mind. A man who worked day and night, because ‘you guys cost a lot of money.’ Of course. When you wanted something, you worked for it. <i>Before you start asking people for money, start thinking of how you could make it yourself</i>, Oe thought.<br />
<p>“If you want to go so much, why not pick up a part-time job?”<br />
<p>His daughter furrowed her brow indignantly.<br />
<p>“You could buy that ticket with a day’s worth of work,” Oe continued.<br />
<p>“I’m preparing for university, dad. No one works a part-time job this time of year.”<br />
<p>“Then you’ll have to give up on going to that concert.”<br />
<p>His daughter pursed her lips sourly and turned on her heel. Once in front of the door to her room, she turned around.<br />
<p>“Cheapass,” she spat, before slamming the door shut. <br />
<p>“Miharu! Quiet down!” screeched his wife’s voice from the bedroom, putting the icing on the cake.<br />
<p>For an instant, Oe wished he could cast everything aside and run away. Right now, he had no attachments. He felt no necessity to nurture, to protect what he had here right now. But an impulse was still an impulse, and Oe had no intention of facing the criticism from all sides if he were to do something like that.<br />
<p><i>So this is the nest I spent ten-some-odd years to build</i>, Oe thought bitterly as he stood alone in the hallway, his shoulders trembling in laughter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Oe’s guilt towards tricking Kitagawa surfaced once in a while, then ebbed away, but the period of time between those impulses gradually stretched out. His guilt usually peaked the day after meeting with Kitagawa, but receded like the tides, and eventually he forgot completely until the day before receiving his next hundred thousand yen.<br />
<p>That day was the sixth cash payment. It was in the middle of December. The trees lining the streets were bare, their leaves having turned colour and fallen off a long time ago. Christmas songs were playing everywhere in the streets. However, once Oe walked out of the bright shopping district towards the riverbank, a suddenly loneliness choked the lights and sounds around him. The street lamps turned dim and vague, and the chilly wind that blew over the water blasted him directly in the cheeks. Oe unconsciously gathered the front of his wool coat closer about him. He was just reflecting on how cold it was when it began to rain. The water was frigid. The rain was not heavy, but bothersome nonetheless. Oe quickened his pace. Today he planned to say that he had gone further west than the Kansai region to search centrally around the Chugoku region, but had not found Douno after all. He would tell Kitagawa that much, and once he had the money, he would quit the premises quickly. Oe did not have an umbrella, and if he told Kitagawa he was in a rush, the man would probably not try to pry any further.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was sitting on the usual bench in the park, in a white shirt and black pants. The area was a little ways from the riverside, but the wind was still strong. Oe felt chilly just looking at the man’s sparse outfit. He approached, wondering if it was the man’s youth that made him unfeeling to the cold.<br />
<p>The man appeared to be sleeping in a sitting position, for even when Oe stood in front of him, he remained slouched over, facing the ground without looking up. His shoulders seemed to be trembling slightly.<br />
<p>“Mr. Kitagawa?” Oe called. The man finally raised his head. Oe was struck speechless. He had noticed the man growing thinner each time they met, but today Kitagawa looked in such appalling condition that he could pass for an invalid. His cheeks were hollowed out, his eyes were sunken, and his lips were purple. He even had a shadow of sparse stubble growing on his face.<br />
<p>“Have you found Dou―” Kitagawa dissolved into a fit of coughing before he could finish his sentence, and it continued for a while before he recovered. Oe did not even need to second-guess that Kitagawa was not well.<br />
<p>“A-Are you alright?”<br />
<p>“It’s just a cold.” Each time the man spoke, it was followed by a series of hacking coughs.<br />
<p>“You’re not dressed warmly enough,” Oe said. “You should wear something over your clothes.”<br />
<p>Oe noticed that Kitagawa’s shirt, which was usually pristine and white, was dirty. The man was usually clad in plain but clean and well-maintained clothes, but this time, the grip of sickness had apparently overpowered him.<br />
<p>“Have you found Douno yet?” Kitagawa asked again, shivering.<br />
<p>“Not yet. I didn’t turn up anything in the Chugoku region, so I’m thinking of moving further west and focusing the search on there.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa closed his eyes. “I see,” he mumbled in a raspy voice. He emitted a loud sneeze, then sniffled his nose. He plunged a hand into his pocket―to get a tissue, Oe presumed―and clawed out a handful of crumpled bills and held them out for Oe.<br />
<p>“I took time off work, so I only have 70,000.”<br />
<p>Oe hesitantly accepted the wrinkled bills, and counted them. He verified that there were seven, then hastily put them away into the inner pocket of his coat.<br />
<p>“You can bring the rest next time. Please don’t overwork yourself, Mr. Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>The man shook his hanging head.<br />
<p>“I’m sure you don’t like being kept waiting for these things, right? If you were a loan shark, you wouldn’t mind because you could charge interest, but you’re not.”<br />
<p>So monthly payments of 200,000 yen had been brutal for this man after all. Oe had noticed Kitagawa losing weight alarmingly, and he knew that it probably came from working day and night. But seeing how his half-month payments continued to come in without fail, Oe figured Kitagawa had been managing somehow. He had come this far on good terms. If he pushed this man too far, it would not last very long. If he got the man sick, it would be defeating the very purpose of this arrangement.<br />
<p>“You’re a proper man, Mr. Kitagawa, and I trust you that you’ll pay, even if it’s late. So please, just go home today and rest yourself.”<br />
<p>The figure in front of him swayed unsteadily. Oe stepped forward instinctively, thinking the man was going to fall, but Kitagawa only gave a large slump forward and managed to hold himself up. <br />
<p>“I didn’t have enough money, so I thought of going to a loan company,” Kitagawa said. “But I didn’t know how I’d be able to pay them back. I asked the guys at the dorm if they knew any jobs that paid well, and one of them invited me to sell weed with another guy he knew. But that can get you into trouble if you get caught. I have a record already, so if I get into the slammer again, who knows when I’d be able to get out.”<br />
<p>“Please don’t do anything bad,” Oe said, words that he supposed anyone with common sense would say, as he turned over an idea in his head. Suppose Kitagawa got involved in the “weed” (Oe supposed it meant marijuana) selling scheme. He would make money. Then, at a ripe time, Oe would report him to the police. Kitagawa would be arrested and sent to prison. Even if Oe’s fraud was exposed, the man would not have the power to harm him because he would be in jail.<br />
<p><i>It’s perfect, isn’t it?</i> the devil inside of him whispered. <i>No, wait, think carefully about it. It’s fine while Kitagawa’s in jail. But what about when he gets out?</i> Would Kitagawa not come after him, filled with hatred and an intent to exact revenge on the person who had tricked and reported him behind his back? Oe had been able to collect enough cash already at this point. It was smarter just to get as much as he could without resorting to any clumsy tricks.<br />
<p>Oe grew afraid. He had nothing against Kitagawa; he appreciated the man, who was like a stork that brought him money periodically, but he had found himself wanting to ensnare the man and send him to jail. Oe felt both guilt and superiority towards the man. Kitagawa was, in the end, an ex-convict with a low education. He had no family. Some people would be inconvenienced by his arrest, perhaps, but no one would be sorry to see him go.<br />
<p>“I’ll pay you the rest next time. ―I’ll pay, I promise.” Still coughing, Kitagawa slowly got to his feet. He was staggering as he walked away. As Oe watched him, noting how unsteady he was, Kitagawa ran into a pole at the entrance of the park, then sank to his knees on the spot.<br />
<p>“Are you alright, Mr. Kitagawa?” Oe ran over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was startlingly hot.<br />
<p>“You have a horrible fever! Are you sure you can walk?”<br />
<p>“Sure I can...”<br />
<p>It looked like Kitagawa was attempting to get to his feet, but his body failed to rise. He was scorching to the touch, and he was shivering. Oe took off his own wool coat and draped it over Kitagawa. Then, he somehow managed to bring Kitagawa to his feet by supporting half of his body.<br />
<p>Oe knew of the Kitajima Steel Factory, where Kitagawa worked. It was not very far. Oe fully intended to take him back to his dorm, but taking even one step made Kitagawa’s knees buckle. It would be impossible for Oe to act as his crutch and walk him home. Oe struggled to bring the taller, massive man out to the road. He flagged a taxi. Kitagawa resisted just as they were about to get on.<br />
<p>“Please, just get inside.”<br />
<p>“No. I’m fine.” The man clung to the guard rails and refused to move.<br />
<p>“You can’t walk on your own, and I’m not going to be able to carry you home.”<br />
<p>“The taxi costs money.” Even in this condition, the man insisted on scrimping. Oe was, quite truthfully, irritated.<br />
<p>“Don’t worry about the money,” he said shortly. “I’m going home too, so it’s on the way.” He practically shoved Kitagawa into the taxi. Once inside, Kitagawa immediately lay down and curled up like a cat. The Kitajima Steel Factory was less than one meter-cycle away, and they arrived in mere minutes. No matter how many times Oe told the man they were getting off, Kitagawa only opened his eyes a sliver and mumbled, “Mmm, yeah,” vaguely. Oe managed to drag Kitagawa out of the taxi with the driver’s help, and supported the man with his shoulders. By this time, Kitagawa had become a mass of burning flesh.<br />
<p>A rusty plate that read “Kitajima Steel Factory” was nailed on the gate pillar. They entered through the wide-open gates.. Shadows of several buildings, large and small, loomed on the premises, but in the darkness it was impossible to tell which was which. To the right side, Oe could see a light on inside a single-story prefabricated building. He decided he would ask for directions there, and began walking towards the light, carrying the limp man.<br />
<p>The building had a sliding aluminum door, whose top pane was fitted with frosted glass. He could hear deep, booming voices laughing within. When he banged at the door, the noise inside ceased instantly.<br />
<p>“Who is it?” said a voice, sounding anything but welcoming.<br />
<p>“Excuse me. I’d just like to ask you something.”<br />
<p>He could see a figure approaching from beyond the frosted glass. The door slid open with a large rattling sound. Oe wrinkled his brow as he was met with a whiff of the sweaty odour of males.<br />
<p>“Whaddaya want?” The man was perhaps around fifty, with a muscular build. He had a ruddy face, and when he spoke he smelled of alcohol. When he noticed the patient Oe was carrying, his expression turned to one of surprise.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa,” he said.<br />
<p>“He wasn’t feeling well and he couldn’t walk, so I brought him here,” Oe said. “I heard he lives in the Maple Dorm of this factory.”<br />
<p>The man scratched his head, and powdery white flakes flew in the air.<br />
<p>“This is the Maple Dorm.”<br />
<p>“Here?” Oe murmured as he took in the inside of the prefabricated hut. Despite its “dorm” name, there were no separate rooms. Instead, there was one large room, about twenty-three square metres in area, with <i>tatami</i> mat flooring. The men inside ranged from about twenty to seventy in age, and there were six of them in total, including the brawny man. There were two long fluorescent tube lights on the ceiling, and underneath there was a network of ropes strung from wall to wall like a spider web, with towels and uniforms hung to dry from them like banners. <br />
<p>“Kitagawa’s had a fever and he’s been in bed these past two days or so,” said the brawny man. “At a little past eight, he suddenly disappeared. I was wondering why he was taking so long to take a shit. I guess he was out, huh? Oh, that’s his territory, so you can leave him over there.”<br />
<p>Oe looked at the spot the man had pointed at, but he only saw a duffel bag and what looked like a pillow. There was no futon.<br />
<p>“Right here?”<br />
<p>“You see his bag there, don’t you?” It was a careless tone, with a hint of annoyance at having to repeat himself. Oe laid the limp man down on the spot he had been directed to. The gasoline heater in the room made it much warmer than outside, but Kitagawa still curled up and shivered. Oe glanced around the room, but there were clearly not enough futons for the number of people. If there was a futon, someone was sitting on it as if to assert his ownership. There was also no closet in this hut that could store extra blankets.<br />
<p>“Would I be able to find futons somewhere?” Oe asked an ageing, mild-looking man beside him.<br />
<p>“Old boy Kitagawa always sleeps in a sleeping bag. You see it by his head, there?” He pointed at the oval object that looked like a pillow, placed beside the duffel bag. Oe took it out. It was indeed a sleeping bag. He unravelled it and draped it over the shivering man. Kitagawa rolled himself up in the sleeping bag like a bagworm.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was so weak he could barely walk, yet he had no friends who approached him to see how he was doing or to talk to him. Oe began to worry about leaving him in a group of such uncaring people. Perhaps he ought to take Kitagawa to the doctor, but Kitagawa was the kind of man to refuse a taxi because it cost money. Oe could imagine the rage he would be in if he took the man to a doctor without his permission.<br />
<p>But their association was something that could continue for a long time down the road. Oe did not mind paying for one medical treatment as a necessary business expense. Was Kitagawa even enrolled in national health insurance? He lived in horrid group housing, a dorm in name only. He did not even have his own futon. It would not come as a surprise if he was not enrolled in insurance, in which case, Oe would be footing the full medical bill. He was suddenly reluctant to go ahead with his act of charity.<br />
<p><i>They may be uncaring, but I’m sure they’ll take him to the hospital if it gets that bad.</i> Just as Oe stood up to go home, he remembered that he had lent his coat to Kitagawa. He did not mind collecting the coat later; however, he did want to collect the 70,000 yen in the breast pocket. But Oe could not bring himself to roll the man over so he could snatch the money from him, especially with the man looking like he did now, wrapped up snugly in his coat and sleeping bag like a bagworm.<br />
<p>“Are yeh Douno, mister?” asked an elderly man, appearing out of nowhere. Oe flinched at the uncomfortably close distance. The old man peered into Oe’s face from below.<br />
<p>“No, I’m not.”<br />
<p>“Old man Tomi, open yer eyes and take a good look,” snapped the brawny man. “Not only is that guy old, he looks nothing like Kitagawa’s drawing.” ‘Old man Tomi’ furrowed his brow indignantly.<br />
<p>“I used to do the haircuts in the pen, so I’ve seen Douno’s face before," he protested.<br />
<p>Oe did not fail to catch the word “pen”.<br />
<p>“Alright, shut up, enough about haircuts. Just shut your mouth,” snapped the brawny man. Old man Tomi looked disappointed as he left Oe’s side. So this gentle-looking old man had also served time in prison, like Kitagawa had. Perhaps there were many ex-convicts employed at this factory.<br />
<p>Oe turned back to the muscular man.<br />
<p>“Do you know Douno? The person whom Mr. Kitagawa drew the picture of?”<br />
<p>The man narrowed his eyes and grinned, exposing a set of yellowed teeth.<br />
<p>“The guy Kitagawa’s always talking about, right? Everyone knows, hey, don’t we?”<br />
<p>Laughter erupted from the group. Oe had no idea why the name was enough to make them laugh.<br />
<p>“I’m always saying he should just get a normal girl since he’s out of prison now, but it looks like Kitagawa old boy can’t seem to forget his first fuck.”<br />
<p>It appeared everyone here knew about Kitagawa and Douno’s relationship. Seeing how easily Kitagawa had talked to Oe about homosexuality, it was no surprise that all of his fellow workers would know.<br />
<p>“Are all of you here... um, have you all served a sentence?” Oe had taken great care to choose his words, but the brawny man glared at him.<br />
<p>“What’re you gettin’ at?” he growled.<br />
<p>“I―I’m a detective,” Oe explained hastily. “Actually, Mr. Kitagawa has been asking me to find someone called Douno. If there’s anyone here who knows about Douno, or has met him before, I would very much like to speak with them.”<br />
<p>The six people in the room all looked at each other.<br />
<p>“Old man Tomi is the only one who’s been in the same pen as Kitagawa, right?” said the brawny man, who was apparently the dorm’s leader. “Yoshiki and I were in Yamagata. Kimura, you were in Ehime, right? Miyagawa was in Abashiri, and Tohda was in Tottori,” he told Oe.<br />
<p>The only person in the same prison as Kitagawa was “old Tomi”. He said he had met Douno before, but seeing as how he mistook Oe for him, it was clear his memory was not very reliable. Oe asked if he knew anything just in case, but Tomi’s answer was just what he expected.<br />
<p>“Sorry, I don’t remember much,” he said. “Kitagawa ol’ boy sure is faithful, though,” he murmured ruefully. The brawny man clicked his tongue angrily.<br />
<p>“He’s idiotic, not faithful,” he snapped. “The guy didn’t leave an address and didn’t come to pick Kitagawa up, right? The guy ran. Kitagawa just doesn’t wanna admit it.”<br />
<p>Oe looked down at the man curled up in a ball and asleep. His breathing, which had been fast and irregular when he arrived, had settled down considerably.<br />
<p>“Y’know something about Douno?” spoke up a long-haired man in glasses, the youngest of the six, who looked to be in his early twenties. “I think it’s better if he’s not found. Kitagawa’s usually quiet, but when he snaps it’s pretty scary. Who knows, if Douno happens to be married already, maybe Kitagawa’ll stab him.”<br />
<p><i>Stab.</i> Oe felt a chill down his spine at the violent word.<br />
<p>“Oh yeah, Kitagawa was in for murder, right?” the brawny man said casually, as if he were recounting what he ate for dinner.<br />
<p>“Jack the Ripper,” said the long-haired man, hunching his shoulders.<br />
<p>“Ehm, and what is this, uh, Jack the―?” bumbled Tomi, tilting his head. The brawny man sighed impatiently.<br />
<p>“A guy who tears his victims apart.”<br />
<p>Oe swallowed the saliva that had pooled in his mouth. It went down his throat with a loud gulp.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-9.html">PART 9</a>.</center><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-70171161570301766862013-06-10T00:15:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.434-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 7("The Fragile Swindler" Part 2)<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-fragile-swindler.html">PART 6</a>.<br />
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<p>The next day, the man that Oe had been tailing finished work at ten minutes to seven and headed home without stopping anywhere along the way. Oe’s job was over the minute the man stepped into his house. The time was half past seven. It was approximately twenty minutes from the man’s house to Oe’s office. He could make it for his eight-thirty appointment without rushing.<br />
<p>In truth, Oe was less than eager to see the persistent man again, but he felt guilty pushing the burden onto his chief. Oe steeled himself and strode purposefully down the narrow path through the residential neighbourhood.<br />
<p>He was not in a rush by all means, but a sheen of sweat began to form on his forehead. The ground had still not dried from the rain, which had not let up until late last evening, and the humid air stuck to his skin. It felt like the rainy season was here already. When Oe boarded the train, he was momentarily released from the humidity by the cool air in the air-conditioned car.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Three high-school girls wearing the uniform of his daughter’s school were standing near the doors. Oe’s heart contracted for a moment, but Miharu was not among them.<br />
<p>The words “university admissions” rose in the back of his mind. Frankly, if Miharu had no particular desire to pursue further learning, Oe much preferred that she find a job and start working instead. It made things a lot easier. Further learning would be pointless without a goal. University was not a moratorium until working life came along. It would be much more beneficial to work and begin to learn about society instead of fooling around in the name of studying.<br />
<p>If Oe were to talk to his wife about his daughter’s finding employment, he was sure she would be outraged and insist that it was a cruel thing to do. To his wife, the daughter was not to blame for doing badly in school; the husband was ti\o blame for not making enough money. Oe himself did not want to prevent their daughter from going to post-secondary. The problem was that it cost too much. If he had the money, he would not mind sending his daughter to university, even though he was fully aware that she would slack off instead of study.<br />
<p>If only he had the money. Oe stared up at the white ceiling of the train. If he had the money, he would not have to quit being a detective to find other work. His wife would stop complaining about being poor, and his daughter would get the university student status she’d been wanting to have.<br />
<p>“It’s all about money in the end,” he muttered quietly.<br />
<p>When Oe got off at the station nearest to his office along with the three high school girls, the momentary cool relief vanished as he was closed in from all sides by the humid air again. A shortcut to his office was to walk along the riverside and cut through the park. Oe strode down the dark path along the river, which was dotted sparsely with street lamps. Once he entered the park, which consisted of a sandbox, a wooden bench, and two small swings, the number of street lamps increased for the purpose of crime prevention. The extra street lamps lit the place considerably better.<br />
<p>Oe saw a figure sitting on the bench. His face was indiscernible, for it was thrown in shadow, but the man appeared young. He was sitting with his head hung low. Oe passed the man quickly. God knew what could set people off nowadays. These days in this society, you could get stabbed just for making eye contact with someone.<br />
<p>“Oe,” a voice called just as Oe passed by. He stopped and turned around. As the man stood up slowly in the dark, a street lamp illuminated his mouth. The man’s awkwardly-parted lips moved.<br />
<p>“Mr. Oe.”<br />
<p>The man came nearer, casting a long shadow behind him.<br />
<p>“I was going to head over to your office in a bit.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stood before him, in the same short-sleeve shirt and black pants. He had materialized without even a chance for Oe to mentally prepare himself.<br />
<p>“What are you doing here?” Oe cast a glance at his surroundings. There was nothing to be found in the park at nightfall but dim lights and dolefulness.<br />
<p>“I was killing time. I thought it’d be a nuisance for you if I went too early.”<br />
<p>Oe had initially thought the man was impatient, but apparently he possessed some courtesy as well. Now Oe did not even have to take him to the office; he only had to turn the man down right here. But when Oe thought of how Kitagawa might not take no for an answer, and instead continue to argue with him, he suddenly felt dismal. Then again, he could not simply put off things he did not want to do.<br />
<p>“This is a good chance for us to talk. Why don’t we chat right here?” Oe suggested. This conversation was not casual enough to have standing up, but he felt like if they sat down, it would only lengthen their stay.<br />
<p>“About what you asked yesterday,” he continued, “I’ve talked to the chief, and in the end we’ve reached the conclusion that we can’t take your case. The basis of our decision is that the information we have on hand is so little that a search would be difficult.”<br />
<p>The man took a step forward and clenched Oe’s right arm.<br />
<p>“I don’t care how much time or money it’ll take. I want you to find him.”<br />
<p>The man’s face was drawing closer to his. Kitagawa was younger, taller, and stronger―at least in appearance―than him. The necessities of Oe’s occupation had made him learn his fair share of self-defence and martial arts, but he had never used any of it in real life. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead.<br />
<p>“B-But you see, as I told you before, investigative fees are not exactly cheap.”<br />
<p>“I told you I would pay!” The man’s voice rose and his tone turned stormy. Oe wanted to run away with his tail between his legs.<br />
<p>“If we don’t find him in the end, you still won’t get any of those fees back.”<br />
<p>“It doesn’t matter.” The fingers around his arm clenched harder until it became painful.<br />
<p>“Please, my arm―” Oe implored. Much to his surprise, the man’s fingers instantly unclenched and drew away. <br />
<p>“Oh, sorry about that.”<br />
<p>At one point Oe had feared what would become of himself, but when he observed the man to be the type to keep his cool, he was reassured for the time being. The man stood with his arms close at his sides and his head bowed, like a scolded child.<br />
<p>“I’ve asked a lot of other detectives in the past, but none of them were able to find Douno. Every time, they told me I didn’t have enough information. I know it’s not going to be an easy search.”<br />
<p>The man lifted his face. His unsteady gaze put Oe under the illusion that he was this man’s last hope.<br />
<p>“But how am I ever going to find him if I don’t keep looking?” Kitagawa’s tone was desperate. Oe began to pity the man as he watched him slumped and standing forlorn.<br />
<p>“Let’s sit down for a bit, shall we?” Oe ushered Kitagawa onto a bench. He sat down beside the man. Kitagawa, looking completely extinguished, slouched forward and cradled his head in his hands.<br />
<p>“Is he someone you want to see that badly?” Oe asked.<br />
<p>“Yes,” came the man’s muffled reply.<br />
<p>If Kitagawa had turned up no results at the other detective agencies, it was clear that there was a definite lack of information. His own office, Nishiyama Detective Agency, was not exactly large, either. He was limited, to say the least, in the things he could do and the results he could show for it. Turning Kitagawa down was for his own good as well as out of Oe’s consideration for him.<br />
<p>“Don’t think that I don’t understand how you feel, Mr. Kitagawa. But the reality is that this is going to be an incredibly difficult search. It’ll be like sifting through all the sand on a beach to find one grain of rice. Instead of wasting your money on something like this, why not buy the things you want, take a trip or two, enjoy yourself?”<br />
<p>The man fell silent. A brittle scraping as he raked his nails through his short hair.<br />
<p>“I didn’t mind living in prison,” he began suddenly without warning. “I got three meals a day, and I could bathe. I had my own futon. I had a place to belong there.”<br />
<p>“You may have been cared for, but there’s no freedom in prison.”<br />
<p>The man nodded his short-haired head.<br />
<p>“After Douno was released, it took me almost a year until I was let out. I was angry at how long it felt for a day, an hour, a minute to pass. I finally understood that that was what it meant to have no freedom.”<br />
<p>The man looked up.<br />
<p>“It’s been four years since I left that place. I’m free now, and my body can take me wherever I want to go―but I can’t see Douno. I’ve been looking for him all this time, and still I can’t find him.”<br />
<p>If this man had been searching ever since getting out of prison, he was quite tenacious.<br />
<p>“So this Mr. Douno must have been very good to you while you were in prison.”<br />
<p>The man twitched a corner of his mouth up in a sneer.<br />
<p>“I’m the one that was good to him. He seemed smart, but he was weak, and didn’t know anything, and had no idea how to go about things. That’s why I shared my cold medicine and tissues with him.”<br />
<p><i>I thought he wanted to see Douno again because he respected him</i>, Oe thought in perplexity, but continued the conversation anyway.<br />
<p>“Then I guess Mr. Douno is the one who has to thank you when you meet,” he remarked.<br />
<p>“Thank me? Oh. I don’t really care about that. I just want to see him. I want to see him, talk to him, and then...”<br />
<p>Oe doubted his ears when he heard the man’s next words.<br />
<p>“Do you think I’d be able to live with him?”<br />
<p>“I, er, don’t think that would be possible.” <br />
<p>“Why not?” the man tilted his head. <br />
<p>“It’s been six years since his release. I think he might have a life of his own now. If he had a lover then, they may be married now. Even if Mr. Douno was still single, it’d be unnatural for two men to live together, unless there was some special financial circumstance.”<br />
<p>“Are you saying I’m not normal?”<br />
<p>Oe swallowed his words at the man’s frankness. It went without asking: Kitagawa’s thought patterns were not defined by common sense, but Oe was reluctant to say so out loud.<br />
<p>“I’m just saying it’s not very common. Of course, there may be people out there who do,” he conceded vaguely. Kitagawa drew his eyebrows together and tilted his head slightly.<br />
<p>“Aren’t there a lot of homos out there in the world, and not just in prison? Don’t <i>they</i> live together? Or does one go over to the other guy’s house every day?”<br />
<p>Oe’s eyes bulged. He knew he was extremely unsettled, but he nevertheless made an effort to look unperturbed so that the other man would not notice. <i>I heard “acquaintance”, not “male lover”. Oh, but he did say that he wanted to see him because he was “someone I like”.</i> He had found it strange, but had convinced himself that it was a sort of affection between an apprentice and master. He had not expected it to be a romantic attachment.<br />
<p>Oe looked the man over. His stoic demeanour gave away not a speck of femininity. Did that mean the other man played the woman’s part? But didn’t the other man have a fiancee? He had a female fiancee, and yet was involved in a romantic relationship with Kitagawa―Oe began to spiral into confusion.<br />
<p>A man with a fiancee committed a crime and was put into prison, where he met Kitagawa in the same cell and became romantically involved with him. The man finished his term and was released first. Kitagawa, who was released later, was searching for the man who used to be his lover. Oe got the basic picture.<br />
<p>What he did not understand was this other man, Douno. He had a female fiancee, yet he had relations with a man inside prison. He was quite an unfaithful character. <i>Let’s say... for the sake of argument, that Douno was actually in love with Kitagawa. If he was serious, wouldn’t he have come to pick Kitagawa up when he was released?</i><br />
<p>“Didn’t Mr. Douno know when you were being released, Mr. Kitagawa?”<br />
<p>The man pursed his lips grumpily.<br />
<p>“I told him. Maybe he forgot.”<br />
<p>“Do you think he’d forget the day his lover would be set free?”<br />
<p>Oe’s question was right to the point. A lover who didn’t come to see him released―perhaps Kitagawa did not want to face the inevitable truth that the fact implied.<br />
<p>“Maybe Douno doesn’t want to see me.”<br />
<p><i>Oh, so he knows</i>, Oe thought, but Kitagawa did not appear affected as he stared blankly at the swings in the far side of the park.<br />
<p>“But I want to see him.”<br />
<p><i>Foolish</i>, Oe thought. If the fact the they were two men did not make things difficult enough, they did not even have mutual feelings for each other. It was absolutely pointless. What could amount from spending money on a search? Even if the man was found and they were able to meet each other again, Kitagawa would only be shunned. But the man was aware of that, too.<br />
<p>“Was Mr. Douno such a great person?”<br />
<p>After a long silence, Kitagawa answered, “I don’t know.”<br />
<p>“You don’t know?”<br />
<p>“Douno talked to me about a lot of things. I didn’t even understand half of the things he said, but I felt happy listening to him.”<br />
<p>“Happy?”<br />
<p>“Isn’t that what they call love?”<br />
<p>Oe failed to understand what Kitagawa was trying to get at. Was he saying they talked, got along, and therefore it was love? No―if Kitagawa said it had made him happy, perhaps Douno had said something that made Kitagawa feel that way.<br />
<p>“You know, it actually isn’t that difficult to say the kind of things that make people happy. Basically, you just have to compliment them. No one gets offended by compliments.”<br />
<p>“Douno wasn’t complimenting me.”<br />
<p>“He doesn’t have to do it directly. There are ways to stroke someone’s ego covertly.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa knitted his brow.<br />
<p>“It might have been that, it might not have. I don’t remember anymore.”<br />
<p>Just when he seemed stubborn, he would easily waver. Perhaps this man was the type to get tricked easily, and hence why he had been manipulated by Douno.<br />
<p>But Kitagawa was aware of it. It was not like he did not understand that he was no longer wanted. Yet, he still clung to the feelings of his past―it was a typical pattern of a bad relationship.<br />
<p><i>He should just quit searching. Instead of investing money in emotions that will never be requited, he should use it for other things.</i> It was a waste of money, first and foremost. There were hoards of people out there who were scrambling for cash.<br />
<p>Oe gave a short sigh. He was one of those scrambling people. He was an unhappy man, forced into a career change by his wife because he didn’t make enough money. He did not think money was everything, but there were certainly things that money could solve.<br />
<p>“We won’t be able to take your case, Mr. Kitagawa. What will you do next?”<br />
<p>“I’ll ask another detective.”<br />
<p>“Even if you ask another agency, I don’t think they’ll find him.”<br />
<p>“That’s fine. It gives me peace of mind to have someone out there searching.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa would most likely act upon his word and commission another detective agency. Only malevolent agencies agreed to cases which were hopeless from the start, with the sole purpose of raking in investigative fees. Such companies certainly did exist in this industry. Considerate agencies turned down requests; untrustworthy agencies were the ones who always confidently declared that their search would be a success. This man, unknowing of this fact, would probably end up surrendering his money to these scams, where it would simply be swallowed up into the dark.<br />
<p>The base fee for searching the whereabouts of a person, depending on the content, was about 40,000 yen a week, give or take. If Oe had to take trips out of town, he could claim those expenses separately. He could make about 160,000 to 200,000 in a month. If he continued that for three months, it would add up to somewhat of a small bonus.<br />
<p>It was a reckless plan―Oe internally laughed off the idea which had sprung without warning into his head. It was not so easy to trick someone. Swindlers were careful and minute with their plans. Even if the target was easy to trick, a plan developed on-the-fly was not bound to go over well.<br />
<p>Kitagawa worked at a steel factory, but Oe had a feeling that his job did not require specialized knowledge. He guessed Kitagawa’s highest education level was high school, or vocational school at best. He was probably not well-versed in law, and seeing that he had a criminal record, he was probably reluctant to go to the police for advice about anything, for he would probably want to avoid being involved with them. To add to that, the man did not have a cell phone, and had no access to his company phone. His only method of contact was to meet people directly. Oe’s heart raced. Every fragment he pieced together of the man seemed to lead in a favourable direction for him.<br />
<p>Maybe it would work. No―he was positive it would. But no matter how much this man was willing to throw his money down the drain, it was still a crime to trick him out of it. ―But was it really? Kitagawa was satisfied with the situation of “having someone out searching”. His peace of mind came not from the contents of the search, but the act of searching itself. Oe would pretend to search to give Kitagawa peace of mind. He would receive money in return. Supply and demand matched perfectly. It would be under the pretence of a lie, yes, but both sides would attain satisfaction nonetheless.<br />
<p><i>But still</i>―Oe struggled with his conflicting feelings. Even if this made all sides happy, if he was discovered, he would be arrested. Perhaps he could manage if he made a proper report. He was not being taped on surveillance, after all. If he flipped one page of a phone book each day, it could still pass as an investigation.<br />
<p>Could he try it out? If Kitagawa became suspicious, all he had to do was terminate the investigation. Oe clenched his hands into tight fists.<br />
<p>“―You want us to take the case, no matter what, am I right?” Even talking normally seemed to make his throat unnaturally dry. The man gave a shallow nod.<br />
<p>“We’ve concluded that the office cannot handle your case. But it seems to me that you have your own issues. What I can do is personally take on your case instead.”<br />
<p>“Personally?”<br />
<p>Despite his attempt at a cool outward appearance, Oe’s heart was hammering like an alarm bell.<br />
<p>“Which means we’ll do this without going through my office. I’ll investigate on my own whenever I have time, and hand over the results to you.”<br />
<p>“I don’t mind what it is, as long as you’ll search for him.”<br />
<p>It was precisely the ideal answer he was looking for.<br />
<p>“Then let us do this: I’ll do everything within my power to search for Mr. Douno. But since I’m prohibited by my agency from taking personal cases, I would like you to keep this a business just between the two of us, which means I would appreciate if you didn’t contact the office at all about this. If my agency finds out, I’ll receive due punishment, and that will be the end of the investigation for you. ...Is that alright?”<br />
<p>Oe emphasized “end of the investigation” to eliminate the chances of Kitagawa contacting the agency.<br />
<p>“Got it,” the man said with a solemn nod. <br />
<p>“I also have agency work to do, so I won’t be able to devote all of my time to your case, Mr. Kitagawa. So I will report to you once every half-month. As for investigative fees, since I have no support from my agency on this, if I have to end up tailing someone by taxi I may not be able to cover the fees myself. So with that in mind, would you be able to pay me part of the investigative fee immediately, as down payment? Of course, I will return whatever I don’t use to you, and if I happen to spend over that amount, I will charge you separately.”<br />
<p>Despite his internal turmoil, Oe’s lips moved nimbly to recite an explanation he had gotten used to giving.<br />
<p>“How much would it cost?”<br />
<p>“Let’s see... a week’s worth of investigation is 40,000 yen, so a half-month’s worth is about 100,000 yen to start with. Would you be able to pay that much?”<br />
<p>The man dug into his pocket and pulled out some bare bills. They were ordinary 10,000 yen bills, yet the sight of them made Oe tense enough to feel his pulse in his fingertips. Kitagawa counted the crumpled bills and clicked his tongue irritably.<br />
<p>“I only have 83,000.”<br />
<p>“That’s fine. I can collect the rest the next time we meet.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa furrowed his brow despite the fact that Oe had reassured him he could pay next time. Oe panicked and wondered if his shoddy charade had been exposed. He gradually began to feel sick to the stomach.<br />
<p>Kitagawa stood up suddenly, the difficult expression still on his face.<br />
<p>“I have money back at my dorm. Wait here for a minute while I bring it. I’ll be back in about twenty minutes.”<br />
<p>“There’s no rush.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa shook his head, his expression still stiff.<br />
<p>“It’s important to start on the right foot for these things, isn’t it? Wouldn’t you be more encouraged to work for a customer who pays the whole amount completely, instead of a customer who doesn’t pay right from the start?”<br />
<p>Oe panicked. Was it this easy to make money? Didn’t this man feel any shred of doubt towards him at all? Perhaps he was only making an excuse to go back to his dorm, to call out and bring his brawny friends to beat Oe into a pulp for tricking him.<br />
<p>“Really, I don’t mind if you bring it next time. I trust you, Mr. Kitagawa, and I have no intentions of doing a substandard investigation just because of a late payment.”<br />
<p><i>For the moment, I just want to go home with as much money as I can get.</i> That was Oe’s honest state of mind.<br />
<p>“Oh,” Oe added, “if you happen to have the reports from your previous detective agencies, would you be able to lend them to me next time we meet, so I can use them as reference? I would only be wasting my time if I did the same things that other agencies did. I would like to take a different approach.”<br />
<p>The brusque man appeared to smile.<br />
<p>“No, actually, I’ll get those now. Wait for me.”<br />
<p>The man left at a run, ignoring Oe’s protests. Oe was left alone in the park. After the man disappeared out of sight, Oe stood up and sat down repeatedly. His guilt at tricking someone, mixed with a strange excitement, made him jittery.<br />
<p>As a detective, it was common for him to lie, or to investigate under a false identity, but those were in the name of the investigation, and were not for his own purposes.<br />
<p>For an instant, he considered going home while Kitagawa was away. Then, he would not have to dirty his hands with such a despicable deed. But if Kitagawa came back to find him really gone, what would he do? Would he chase him back to the agency? Would he make a scene at the office with vengeance, claiming Oe had taken his case on personally? That would be trouble. Big trouble, indeed.<br />
<p>Was Oe locked in from escape, then, because he had put his promise into words about taking Kitagawa’s case upon himself? No. He could still cancel or continue this plan as he needed.<br />
<p>Oe’s superficial guilt was completely erased the moment he saw Kitagawa appear carrying a paper bag in his arms. The expression on the man’s face as he handed the papers over to Oe was like that of a child showing off his treasures.<br />
<p>“This is all of it,” Kitagawa wheezed, having returned three minutes earlier than his predicted twenty minutes. Oe peered into the paper bag and was shocked. There were more reports than he had expected.<br />
<p>“You're really proper,” Kitagawa said.<br />
<p>Oe looked up.<br />
<p>“None of them ever asked me to bring reports from other detectives.”<br />
<p>Oe sometimes asked for other companies’ results, but he never asked for the actual reports. Depending on the detective agency, the quality of reports ranged from superb to useless, and there was no guarantee that the reports were absolutely correct. Oe had requested materials this time only, because he still had to write a report even if he did no investigation. He had felt like he would be able to summarize materials from other companies to come up with something presentable.<br />
<p>“I found this while I was getting the reports together.” Kitagawa offered Oe a piece of paper folded into four. Oe unfolded it and was astonished at what he saw. On the scrap of paper was an incredibly detailed drawing of a man’s face, done in pencil, like the sketches that the police used for their investigations.<br />
<p>“What’s this?”<br />
<p>“I drew it from my memories of Douno.”<br />
<p>The man on the piece of paper had no notable traits apart from his shaved head, and was as average as average Joes came. The man’s facial features aside, Oe was more impressed at how good the drawing was. Oe himself had been part of the visual arts club when he was a student. He stopped drawing after he graduated, but to this day he still took outings to the art gallery when it held exhibitions of his favourite artists.<br />
<p>“You’re very good at drawing, Mr. Kitagawa. Have you taken lessons somewhere?”<br />
<p>“Will that help in your search?” was Kitagawa’s non-answer.<br />
<p>“I think it will. I’ll hold onto this, if you don’t mind. Say, Mr. Kitagawa, did you learn drawing somewhere?” he asked again out of curiosity.<br />
<p>“When I still went to school, I hated arts and crafts. I didn’t start drawing until I got into prison. It was because Douno told me I was good.”<br />
<p>“You haven’t taken any formal drawing classes, then.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa shook his head.<br />
<p>“It’s not too late to start. Why not start pursuing drawing seriously?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa shook his head again.<br />
<p>“I can’t. I can only draw what I see. Drawing is something you do with the heart, isn’t it?”<br />
<p>Oe was stuck for an answer at the man’s direct gaze.<br />
<p>“It said so in one of the books they lent out in prison,” Kitagawa continued. “It said to draw with your heart, no matter how sloppy it is. My drawings only imitate real life. Experts can tell these things right off the bat, right?”<br />
<p>Perhaps it was the truth. But it was superficial advice. It was superficial, but it was also the truth. The more Oe thought about it, the more confused he became, and in the end he could say nothing.<br />
<p>Mounds of reports, the sketch, and a hundred thousand yen―after collecting those items, Oe promised Kitagawa to meet here again at the same time, half a month down the road. Kitagawa left in a good mood, not knowing that he had just been victim to a fraud.<br />
<p>Oe, who had remained at the park, called the office on his cell phone. “I met the client in question at the park,” he told them. “I turned down his case on the spot. I’m heading straight home from here.”<br />
<br />
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<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-pt-8.html">PART 8</a>.</center><br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-17387518918042131922013-06-05T23:38:00.000-04:002013-06-16T21:33:06.681-04:00[Novel] NO. 6 - Afterwords<a name="awtop">Jump:</a><br />
<center>Volume 1 <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw1">B</a> | Volume 2 <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw2t">T</a>/<a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw2b">B</a> | Volume 3 <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw3t">T</a>/<a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw3b">B</a> | Volume 4 <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw4t">T</a>/<a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw4b">B</a> | Volume 5 <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw5">B</a><br />
Volume 7 <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2011/12/novel-no-6-afterwords.html#aw7">B</a> <span class="new">(NEW)</span></center><br />
T = <i>tankobon</i> = hardcover edition<br />
B = <i>bunko</i> = paperback edition<br />
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last -- 2013.06.04</center><br />
Since I only have up to Volume 5 in paperback (which includes hardcover afterwords as well), I will only be able to post those up. As far as I know she has no afterwords in hardcover editions of Volume 6-9. If the paperback editions of these have afterwords that you would like to have translated, if someone can send me scans I will be more than happy to.<br />
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For more information about <i>bunko</i> and <i>tankobon</i>, please read <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/p/q-a.html#q7">here</a>.<br />
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<h3 id="aw1">Volume 1 (bunko)</h3><p>Afterwords always make me terribly sheepish. It's embarrassing. Every time I write one, somewhere in my heart, I shrink back from shame. I hear my own voice telling me, <i>how can you do such an embarrassing thing with no hesitation?</i><br />
</p><p>It probably comes from the fact I have used all my past afterwords as excuses. And unconsciously, too, which makes it even worse. I've always struggled to fill the gaping inadequacies of my work, somehow, with the afterwords. I have a feeling that's what I've been trying to do.<br />
</p><p>After I realized what I was doing, I vowed not to write any more afterwords. I thought that whatever a writer said or wrote outside of his work was meaningless.<br />
</p><p>At the time of this writing, No. 6 has become a <i>bunko</i> (paperback). Having been poor for a long time, as a reader, I can say I have a close relationship with <i>bunko</i>. This small and affordable book was a godsend to my wallet and its meagre funds.<br />
</p><p>Thank you, <i>bunko</i>.<br />
</p><p>So that being said, I can frankly say that I'm happy that this story has become a <i>bunko</i>, so that other people with meagre funds but a love for books can have access to it. Whether it's worthy enough to read, well, let's leave that judgment for another day. I have no choice but to leave it in your hands, reader. I have no intention of saying things like, "I've poured my life's effort into this"―those kind of words don't even qualify as an excuse. I still want to believe that I haven't been corrupted to that level.<br />
</p><p>The story isn't caught up with reality. It's very true. The things that are portrayed in this story―tragedy, cruelty, the tyranny of those with power, human greed, murderous intent... take any one of these, and you'll see that what you find in the world we live in far surpasses anything told in my story.<br />
</p><p>How can humans be so cruel? So inhumane? It leaves me speechless in shock. But despite being struck speechless, I ask myself, would I still be able to find a hope for life through the story of <i>No. 6</i>? The chances of that seem uncertain, and slimmer than the contents of my wallet. But I have no other way to do it but to write, and I feel like I would lose to the cruelty and arrogance of reality―and I can't just put my tail between my legs and admit defeat, so I write. I want to face off against reality, approach it in challenge, with <i>No. 6</i> as my strength. I want to tear off that hide of what they call Reality or Human Beings, drag out what lies beneath, and build upon it not despair, but a story of hope.<br />
</p><p>That is also my ambition.<br />
</p><p>Ah, am I making excuses again? Or am I just trying to cheer myself on? Or am I brandishing valorous words to trick myself and others into believing them? Hmm. That's really terrible, actually. But still....<br />
</p><p><i>You're annoying.</i><br />
</p><p>I felt like I just heard Nezumi's whisper.<br />
</p><p><i>What an annoying woman. If you have time to be indulging yourself in complaints, put up a fight first.</i><br />
</p><p>I hear a voice telling me to fight, more stoutly, more fiercely than anything―whether it be myself, or others, or the times. I grimace, and give myself a shake.<br />
</p><p>He's right. For now, before writing an afterword, I'll write my story―a story with no complaints, excuses or trickery.<br />
</p><p>So there you have it, an afterword that's not much of an afterword. I'm really sorry. If I could, I would like to make this my last afterword(-ish) thing.<br />
</p><p>So this is the end. I would like to extend my heartfelt thanks to those in Kodansha's Children's Books Office: the late Mr. Yamakage Yoshikatsu, Mr. Yamamuro Hideyuki, and Ms. Jinbo Junko from the Bunko Publishing Department.<br />
</p><p>Thank you, thank you so much.</p><br />
2006, late summer<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
<center><a href="#awtop">(to top)</a></center><br />
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<h3 id="aw2t">Volume 2 (tankobon)</h3><br />
<p>As you are reading this particular page of the story right now, what sort of scene is unfolding around you?<br />
</p><p>What is happening with the wars, with starvation, with the world? Is the killing still continuing? Is hatred still overflowing? Is despair still brimming?<br />
</p><p>Do you believe in the word "hope"? I've always wanted to believe in it―that the world could be mended, that people would be able to throw their weapons aside. Someday.<br />
</p><p>Writing stories for young people is none other than to tell a tale of hope―because there should be nothing born from despair.<br />
</p><p>That was how I've felt up until now, and obedient to that belief, I've been weaving stories that tell of hope, but cavalierly.<br />
</p><p>"You don't know anything. You don't know what it's like to starve, to shiver in the cold, to groan from a wound that's festered because it's been left untreated too long; you don't know the suffering that follows when that wound becomes infested with maggots, and you start rotting alive; you don't know how it feels to watch someone die in front of you, while there's nothing you can do to help them. You don't know a single thing. You're just rattling off pretty words."<br />
</p><p>"You're just looking for an escape route. You're looking for a way to avoid getting hurt."<br />
</p><p>"Words aren't things that you can toss around casually. You can't let yourself be forced to say something, and just put up with it. But you don't know that. So that's why I'm not going to trust you."<br />
</p><p>The numerous harsh words that Nezumi hurled at Shion were also blades bared against me, and needles that stabbed my body.<br />
</p><p>Yes: I feel like I've lived thus far without knowing anything, nor trying to know. I suffer no ailments; I never need to worry about food for tomorrow; I live life without having to feel a smidgeon of fear from being blasted by landmines or rocket bombs. I love my somewhat boring, but peaceful life. And that's fine in itself. But when I peeled back a bit of that peaceful life, I couldn't go without seeing that it was actually very closely connected with foreign lands that seemed so distant; with the war and starvation that people were suffering in those lands.<br />
</p><p>Individuals are always connected to their nation, and the nation is always connected to the rest of the world. It is impossible to cut them apart. And I have finally realized that.<br />
</p><p>That was why I wanted to write this story, no matter what it took. Along with a certain boy called Shion, I wanted to reach out and touch the world. I wanted to write of a young and clumsy soul opening up his physical body, and understanding the world through the pain and joy he felt through it.<br />
</p><p>But to be honest, there were several times while writing when I thought I would never be able to be like Shion. I couldn't face off with the world as honestly as he. I couldn't yearn for another as earnestly. I couldn't weave words as truthfully. And I was afraid of getting hurt. I was always coming up with convenient excuses for myself. I couldn't beg like he could.<br />
</p><p>At this point of having written up this story, for some reason I feel something closer to defeat rather than fulfilment.<br />
</p><p>I'm sorry, here I go again, complaining. Those most unsteady in their stance are the ones that talk the most, and make the most complaints.<br />
</p><p>Anyway, the story is still developing. I sincerely hope that you will be able to enjoy it as Shion and Nezumi live, move, and weave their story into existence.<br />
</p><p>I have no idea what will happen to these two, either. I'm not being mum on purpose: I honestly can't predict what will happen.<br />
</p><p>But this is for certain: I do know that I don't want to leave Shion as an idealist who is all talk; and I don't want to make Nezumi into a terrorist of pure hatred. I would not want that to happen, no matter what. So what do I need to do in order for it not to happen? What is needed for them to survive, for them to avoid "becoming enemies", as Nezumi once said? I know that I must think about this with a steady gaze not on fantasy, but reality. And that must mean to focus the spotlight on the ugliness of the nation-state, the frailty of human beings, my own low-handedness, and never to avert that gaze.<br />
</p><p>And of course, in the end, I want to tell a tale of hope―not cavalierly, with an agreeable smile on my face, using limp and lifeless words that are merely pleasing to the ear. I want to speak with words I've invested my own self into―I could mumble them, for what it's worth―but I want to speak of hope, the kind I've grasped with my own hands. I want to become that kind of writer.<br />
</p><p>I don't have the confidence I'll succeed. I already know very well how powerless and incapable I am. But to me, it seems like there's still no other way than to keep fighting alongside these young men.<br />
</p><p>I dedicate my heartfelt gratitude and hold in utmost admiration, Mr. Yamakage Yoshikatsu of Kodansha's Editing Department, but at the same time I want to complain to him, "It's so draining, this work." But I know that he would probably―no, definitely―reply with, "You're being indulgent. You're a professional. At least make sure you don't let Nezumi and Shion laugh at you. Come on, straighten up."<br />
</p><p>Well, we've come to the end. My gratitude to the following people (no complaints this time): Mr. Kageyama Toru, for creating the world of <i>No. 6</i> more realistically, more fantastically, than anything my imagination would have been able to create; and Mr. Kitamura Takashi, for giving No. 6 its unique glow and shadow through photos. Thank you.</p>February 2004<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
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<h3 id="aw2b">Volume 2 (bunko)</h3><p>To all of you who have read <i>No. 6 #2</i>: first of all, I send you my thanks from the bottom of my heart.<br />
</p><p>This time, I decided to lend the narrative point of view to Shion, and write from his place in the interior of the citadel city of No. 6, looking out into the outside world of the West Block.<br />
</p><p>What sort of image did that place reflect in your eyes and hearts, readers? By continuing to write this story, I am continually faced by my own hypocrisy, which can be emotionally stressing sometimes... no, all the time. How can someone like me, who has never starved or froze, write about people who live in the West Block?<br />
</p><p>If anything, it's arrogant and irresponsible; and for that reason I've never liked to talk about this story, and if I force myself to open my mouth, all that comes out is complaints and excuses. I'm sorry.<br />
</p><p>But still, to me, young men (and young women) of this age are fascinating, and are figures that I have a profound attraction for. I so badly want to know how they will live in this world, that instead of learning from my mistakes, I arrogantly and irresponsibly continue to write a story like <i>No. 6</i>. As I hold both joy and fear in my heart that this book will be seen and read by more people in its form as a <i>bunko</i>, I think I would like to live alongside these young men and women for just a little longer.<br />
</p><p>Thank you very, very much for reading.</p>February 2007<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
<center><a href="#awtop">(to top)</a></center><br />
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<h3 id="aw3t">Volume 3 (tankobon) - In the place of excuses</h3><p>So how did you find <i>No. 6</i> #3? I know there's really no need to give backstage-talk about the making of this novel, but... will you listen nonetheless?<br />
</p><p>To tell you the truth, before I began working on Volume 3, I was making big promises to my editor Mr. Yamakage Yoshikatsu, telling him, "They're going into the Correctional Facility now. It's going to be full of action, I tell you, action." At this point, I wasn't lying or trying to pique his interest. I was serious. After all, one of the motives I had for writing <i>No. 6</i> was my ambition to express thrilling action scenes through words. But once I entered the world of Volume 3, and lived alongside Shion and Nezumi, I realized it wasn't going to be as easy as bursting into the Correctional Facility, causing a ruckus and then being finished.<br />
</p><p>As I aligned my heart with theirs, wavered in uncertainty with them, and mulled it over, sighing in despair or in awe, wondering why we fight, why we love, why we hate, why we kill―my pages were up. It ended with no big changes unfolding in the plot; no solving of puzzles; not even a change in the season―it ended just when things seemed to be about to begin. I know this, and others have said so too, that I am a person of many excuses. But this time, I'm fully prepared to take complaints from readers who will tell me, "What the heck is this?" and I will confess that this time, I have no excuse to make.<br />
</p><p>But once inside the Correctional Facility, they will have to fight. The possibilities are incredibly high that they will spill the blood of others, or that their own blood will be spilt. If they had to end up killing someone, or if one of them were to get killed, Shion and Nezumi would have no choice but to undergo a change. A drastic change would occur, not in the external sense, but to their young souls. I struggled as I thought through how I would accept this reality, and how I would write it, searching for an answer while I kept writing Volume 3.<br />
</p><p>I cannot forget reading the words of a certain adolescent, whom the newspaper dismissed as a terrorist. He is said to have mumbled the following to the hostages him and his group had captured: "What can I do in order to be friends with you?"<br />
</p><p>I don't like war or terrorism. I despise it. And that is why I want to know what sets him and his words apart from the rest of us. Whether I have that power or not―it's not very clear, and honestly, I can't see myself as having that sort of power. But I want to put up a fight. Part of that fight is <i>No. 6</i>, and this story. Ah, this is becoming an excuse after all. Perhaps by the time the cherry blossoms have completely fallen, I would be able to deliver you the rest of my struggle in the form of Volume 4, as I place the focus on the two boys who had no choice but to infiltrate the Correctional Facility. That will also be a fight for me, where I put me and my excuse-prone self on the line. I extend my heartfelt thanks to Mr. Yamakage for supporting my fight, and putting up with my excuses so patiently; also I thank artist Mr. Kageyama Toru and photographer Mr. Kitamura Takashi for expressing the world of <i>No. 6</i> in their own unique and creatively abundant ways, three times so far.</p>October 2004<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
<center><a href="#awtop">(to top)</a></center><br />
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<h3 id="aw3b">Volume 3 (bunko) - The World of <i>No. 6</i> #3</h3><p>Hello, everyone. Asano here. Thank you very much for accompanying me in the world of <i>No. 6.</i><br />
</p><p>I would ask, how did you find it?―but a question like that is the epitome of unsophistication. Let me seal it away.<br />
</p><p>It has been nearly three years since Volume 3 was first published. I'm sure you would agree that these three years have been worthy to call tumultuous. People's hearts, values, the state of society, and the goings-on of our world have switched directions, mutated, and changed at dizzying speeds.<br />
</p><p>Love, justice, the future―things we all believed in without question are on the verge of disappearing without a trace. Maybe that's the kind of world we live in now.<br />
</p><p>I've been alive for a good while, and have lived for over half a century. People my age are prone to thinking of this current state of the world as something like this: "Well, it certainly is a brutal world, but I guess that's how things go. A country like Japan seems peaceful on the outside. Maybe we can just say there's nothing to worry about, and leave it at that." "Well, what can we do now? We've already come so far."<br />
</p><p>But even so, after meeting these boys who tear through the streets of rubble, refusing a world ornate in artifice, attempting to face off against a harsh reality, living each and every day as themselves―I come to think there's no way I could gloss it over or simply give up after all.<br />
</p><p>But with that said, I wonder what I could do, what I ought to do, and I wrestle with my thoughts and can do nothing but hesitate in a nervous limbo. Maybe I'm afraid to take that first step from fear of getting hurt.<br />
</p><p>Ugh, I'm sure Nezumi is laughing at me right now.<br />
</p><p>Adults are free to make excuses and give up; no matter what consequences arise, they will have no one to blame but themselves. But young men and women don't have it quite the same. They must keep living and survive. They cannot accept despair as easily.<br />
</p><p>To see the world at their side; to start off from a place in which I've rejected despair; to grasp this world with words that are not false trinkets―is it something I would be able to do?<br />
</p><p>I strongly hope to challenge myself and the reality around me, with No. 6 as my weapon. The chances of my winning are slim, but I'd like to believe... at least, that I won't be losing constantly.<br />
</p><p>My gratitude from the bottom of my heart to those who have read thus far.</p>Summer 2007<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
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<h3 id="aw4t">Volume 4 (tankobon) - Of life and death</h3><p>It may be a sheepish, foolish, and embarrassing thing to write only about your most personal thoughts in a space like the afterword. Thinking back, I realize I've repeated this blunder over and over again, and even I get sick of it sometimes. So I think I will make this my last. Will you put up with my complaints one last time? I'm sorry.<br />
</p><p>This year, I lost two people whom I was very close to. One was Mr. O'oka Hideaki, a critic and fellow member of our coterie magazine; the other was Mr. Yamakage Yoshikatsu, of Kodansha's Children's Books Department. Both supported me as a writer from their respective positions in their own ways. Being the crude individual that I am, I only realized after I lost these two how much their support had meant to me, and in my loss, confusion, and loneliness, I sobbed like a wandering child at sunset.<br />
</p><p>Mr. Yamakage particularly was my irreplaceable partner in creating the story of No. 6. He was someone who had stayed with me since Volume 1. He was also the one who gave this story its title, <i>No. 6</i>. And more than anything, he has taught me what it means to live on, and what it means to die.<br />
</p><p>The following are words that I can't forget.<br />
</p><p>It was either the beginning of summer, or the end―a time when the seasons were changing. Mr. Yamakage and I were talking about this-and-that of my next work inside a taxi, when he said:<br />
</p><p>"Ms. Asano, you know, these days I've been sweating."<br />
</p><p>Mr. Yamakage said this suddenly, lowering his voice a little. The utterance had a hint of a smile in it, like he often used to speak. <i>So?</i> I thought. <i>Sweat? Isn't it a normal thing to sweat when it gets hot?</i> I must have had a bemused expression on my face from not understanding the meaning behind his utterance. But he continued.<br />
</p><p>"When it's hot, I sweat like I should. It makes me think, wow, I'm alive."<br />
</p><p>I realized that it had only been a short time since Mr. Yamakage had returned to the workplace after recovering from his serious illness; I nodded then, thoroughly convinced. And now, I contemplate those words and feel the weight of them all the more.<br />
</p><p>―Because that is what being alive means. It's sweating when you're hot; it's crying when you're sad; it's laughing when you're happy. It's walking straight down a road, and climbing the stairs. It's the days that pass by, ordinary, mundane, that prove that we are still alive. Mr. Yamakage taught me that. <i>No. 6</i> is a story of the boys. It is also a story of life and death. To a writer like yours truly, who had been trying to write about life and death as the crux of the story, yet at the same time in a light and comedic way, perhaps Mr. Yamakage had stepped beyond his bounds as an editor to convey this message to me.<br />
</p><p><i>Ms. Asano, please, truly love that you are alive; cherish it, and preciously, preciously write about it. Let's make No. 6 that kind of story―where real human 'life' resides.</i><br />
</p><p>He was a brilliant man. He was not afraid at all to live his life through, and fall into the clutches of death. I wish he could have run this course with me for a little while―no, for the whole time.<br />
</p><p>Mr. Yamakage, you went too soon. It's not fair that you just disappeared like that, engraving yourself in my memories. When I meet you in the afterworld, I'll be sure to bombard you with complaints. And you'll probably flash that smile, nod quietly, and apologize in that sheepish way.<br />
</p><p>Thank you to everyone who has waited for Volume 4. And I apologize (for publishing it much, much later than I had originally promised).<br />
</p><p>And when I was ready to fall to my knees, blurting that maybe this story was finished too because Mr. Yamakage was gone, I thank everyone who supported me: Mr. Abe Kaoru, and Mr. Yamamuro Hideyuki, who supported me in his place; Mr. Kageyama Toru and Mr. Kitamura Takashi, who finished their jobs like true professionals, and sent me vigorous encouragement that needed no words. I thank you very, very much.</p><br />
August 2005<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
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<h3 id="aw4b">Volume 4 (bunko)</h3><p>It's an embarrassing story, but when I write afterwords, these days all I seem to end up with are complaints or excuses. I think it is absolutely necessary that every story―<i>No. 6</i> as no exception―should refuse any complaints or excuses.<br />
</p><p>For this reason, this time around I've decided to write not any sort of afterword, but just my thoughts as they come to me.<br />
</p><p>While I was writing <i>No. 6 </i>Volume 4―or, rather, throughout this whole series―I've been thinking about what "hope" is.<br />
</p><p>Hope is believing in the future.<br />
</p><p>In this world right now, did I really hold a firm belief in the future as I was writing? I'm still thinking about it (since this series is still going, after all).<br />
</p><p>I think and I think, but no matter how much I do, I can't seem to grasp the answer.<br />
</p><p>It's not that I've lost hope. In this day and age, I do naturally feel a sense of imminent danger, to an extent (though it may not be directed accurately at the right things). But I'm not despairing, nor have I given up. But if someone were to ask me how much true hope I've got in my hands―then, well, I've got no choice but to tilt my head in perplexity. It's certainly an uneasy story...<br />
</p><p>Hunger, warfare, destruction, poverty, murder, despair...<br />
</p><p>Change is occurring both on the surface and within people, and these changes twist and turn; and in our every day lives, like people riding on a flimsy boat of bamboo leaves in a swift current, we don't know when we'll be sucked into the whirlpool.<br />
</p><p>The small light of hope that winked inside me while I was still writing Volume 1 has now become hard even to make out with my degree of vision.<br />
</p><p>Has my eyesight gotten worse?<br />
</p><p>Or has the light gotten weaker?<br />
</p><p>Hmm? This is starting to sound a lot like a complaint. Note to self: mind that it doesn't.<br />
</p><p>Stories detest and avoid complaints and excuses like nothing else. At the same time, they encourage your struggle to believe in the future.<br />
</p><p>Stories will not develop or be born from anyone who says, "Well, that's just how it is" with a skewed and pessimistic outlook; nor does it come from those who have thrown everything away, saying, "I don't care what happens anymore". Only those who squint at that tiny ray of light, and take that hesitant half-step forward―only from that half-step is a story born.<br />
</p><p>Perhaps believing in that half-step you take is somehow connected more largely to believing in the future.<br />
</p><p>And to you, who has read this story thus far―let's take that hesitant half-step forward together, why don't we?</p><br />
Summer 2008<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
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<h3 id="aw5">Volume 5 (bunko)</h3><p>This<i> No. 6</i> series has finally reached its fifth volume. I still remember complaining in Volume 1 how I was ashamed of myself for turning my afterwords into excuses, and saying <i>'I don't want to write them anymore!'</i>. But after thinking it over calmly again, I realized that it wasn't the <i>afterwords</i> I didn't like; it was me―making excuses, justifying myself with this or that―that I disliked. So basically, I'd been taking my frustrations out on the afterword itself. I must confess, that's not getting to the root of the problem at all. I'm sick of it, really.<br />
</p><p>These days I really think that people like me―who are skilled in the art of self-preservation, are cowardly, but also ambitious―shouldn't be writing a story like <i>No. 6</i>. I may have written a bit about this somewhere else, but <i>No. 6</i> to me as a work was something a little out of the ordinary. To me, the core of a work was always in humans. I wanted to write about, and know more about, none other than people. The only device I had at my hands that would let me understand people was writing. I wanted to know these girls, these boys, these men and women. I wanted to know what kind of people they were. That was the energy behind why I wanted to start writing, and it was the reason I kept writing.<br />
</p><p>But before I started writing the story of <i>No. 6</i>, I wished to know the world before I started getting to know the people. I hoped for a story that would help me face the world I was living in now. It was my first experience. That was why at first, I was not so much interested in the true form of Shion, or Nezumi―what they thought, what they loved, what they loathed as they lived their lives. The Holy City was the protagonist of this story, and the boys were only side characters. But it wasn't long before those arrogant thoughts were shattered to pieces. But of course: it was impossible to render a world in which humans were neglected a place. People are always connected to the world. People are what comprise the world itself. The world is created by people, who make it bountiful, who make it corrupt, who destroy it, and bring it back to life.<br />
</p><p>Before I knew it, I was the one desperately following Shion and Nezumi, enchanted by the world they created, the changes they underwent, and their fates. And though it took long enough, it finally hit home for me that the only way to render this world was to follow them, watch them, grasp them, and pen them. It was a reckless challenge. I feel like a <acronym title="A Japanese idiom; one who enters danger heedless of one's own weaknesses. (tōrō no ono; 蟷螂の斧)">praying mantis brandishing its tiny claws at an enormous oncoming cart</acronym>. I don't have that resolve. I don't have the guts to face the world, or my own self head-on. That was also what I realized while writing this story. And as soon as I realized it, it hurt to hear Nezumi's words and feel Shion's gaze. So now we've come to this: whatever shall I do? I wish I could just throw it away.... Oh dear me, now instead of excuses I'm griping. Hmm, not good. But I'll hang in there for a little more. If I don't pull myself up by my bootstraps now, I wouldn't know what I'd written this far for; so on and so forth, blah blah.<br />
</p><p>Thank you for supporting me and putting up patiently with my reckless challenges and weak-willed excuses: Mr. Harada Hiroshi from the Bunko Publishing Department; Mr. Yamashiro Hideyuki from the Children's Publishing Department. And my heartfelt thanks to you, reader, who has taken the time to read this work.<br />
<br />
Summer 2009<br />
Asano Atsuko<br />
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<h3 id="aw7">Volume 7 (bunko)</h3>(Thank you to Saskia for the scans!)<br />
<br />
Hello, everyone. Asano here. How did you find <i>No. 6</i> Volume 7? To make an honest confession, Volume 7 was a volume that was incredibly difficult and painful to continue writing. I struggled to write, struggled to think; nothing moved forward, and while I was writing I was rocked by hesitation and an emotion similar to panic.<br />
<p>I don’t mean that I was simply in a block (although a considerable fraction of it was). It was over ten years ago when I first started writing <i>No. 6</i>. The first volume was published in 2003, and it has already been nine years since then. When I began writing, my heart was not so much with Shion and Nezumi, but with No. 6 itself. With a fictional city-state at centre-stage, I wanted to write about a state which ruthlessly trampled its people, and with my pen capture every scene of their domination over its people. I had that desire―no, ambition.<br />
<p>I have already finished writing the last volume of the hardcover, and put a period to this series, at least in form. But if you were to ask me if my ambitions were realized....<br />
<p>What is a state? How would a country and its people interact? What is the difference between the rulers and the ruled? They were themes much too large for me to tackle with my level of strength. I feel like I am still standing, completely at a loss of what to do before a thing of such magnitude.<br />
<p>However, as I continued to progress writing through this series, despite its sweeping theme, my heart was swept away by these two boys, Shion and Nezumi. I became compelled to grasp them firmly with my own two hands. No matter what anyone said, to me, they were both very attractive characters whom I believed deserved to be known. Before I knew it, I feel like I have stayed fixated on this series with the singular mission to complete writing, not the city, but these boys as they lived on, dashed about, jumped, fought, became attached to others, felt love, and felt hatred. <br />
<p>In that sense, you can say that this Volume 7 is the most meaningful (for me, at least) in the whole series. By infiltrating the Correctional Facility, both Shion and Nezumi lay bare a side of their selves which have before been lurking in their depths. I struggled to write because I agonized and hesitated about how to write this very part.<br />
<p>In the Correctional Facility, Nezumi and Shion are cornered, their movements inhibited at gunpoint.<br />
<p><i>I see. So I am going to die with you.</i><br />
<p>When Nezumi muttered this phrase in his heart, I thought of putting the two out of their misery. They would be more at peace if they were pierced by a bullet together, I thought. Of course, that would do nothing for the story. The real reason that I chose to write further, however, has nothing to do with what “ought to be” in a story. It was my own conviction as a writer. To others, it was perhaps too insignificant, but to me it was an important thing. I felt that if I didn’t write the rest of this story, my fixation with No. 6 would have been meaningless.<br />
<p>I can only leave it up to you to read it as you will interpret it. Volume 7 has become that kind of volume.<br />
<br />
Atsuko Asano<br />
Summer 2012<br />
<center><a href="#awtop">(to top)</a></center>9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-51158548604849589482013-06-04T00:34:00.002-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.418-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 6("The Fragile Swindler" Part 1)<br />
Here begins the second section of <i>In the Box</i>.<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/05/narise-konohara-in-box-in-box-pt-5.html">PART 5</a>.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>THE FRAGILE SWINDLER</center><br />
<br />
It was the kind of wearisome day where it had been raining since morning, extinguishing any desire to go out. Rainy days were becoming more and more often since entering the last weeks of September. One’s wet umbrella had barely any time to dry before being drenched again.<br />
<p>It was past three in the afternoon when the doorbell in the Nishiyama Detective Agency rang. Michitoshi Oe was in the middle of typing up an investigation report on his computer. The template made his work easier, but he was not very skilled at composition to begin with. Twenty years of doing it had not made him like it any better. A sigh escaped his lips every time he got stuck on a sentence.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Oe continued to work, figuring Nobeoka the clerk would deal with any guests. These kinds of tiresome tasks tended to become even more tiresome if interrupted partway through.<br />
<p>The bell continued to ring―two, three times.<br />
<p>“Nobeoka, my man, there’s someone at the door.”<br />
<p>There was no answer. Oe tilted his head in perplexity. Something was wrong. Then, he remembered. About fifteen minutes ago, Nobeoka had told him that he was going out to “buy coffee, and all sorts of other stuff we’ve run out of”. Oe had brushed him off with an absent-minted answer and completely forgotten.<br />
<p>The chief was absent, and his junior Katori was out investigating. Oe emitted a long sigh, and reluctantly rose out of his chair.<br />
<p>The bell rang incessantly. <i>Someone’s in a rush</i>, Oe griped mentally as he pulled the door open widely towards him.<br />
<p>“Hello, this is Nishiyama Detective Agency.”<br />
<p>In front of him was a chest clad in a white shirt. Oe had to look up to see his face. The man was towering. He looked young―in his late twenties, perhaps.<br />
<p>“I want you to find someone,” the man said curtly.<br />
<p>“You’re here to request a search, then. Come on in.” As Oe ushered him into the office, he spotted the dirty umbrella in the man’s hand.<br />
<p>“Oh, if you would put your umbrella in the umbrella stand over there―”<br />
<p>The man shoved his clear plastic umbrella roughly into the stand. When Oe offered him a seat on the sofa, he seated himself squarely in the middle. The man was not only tall; he also had long legs. His knees were bent uncomfortably in the confined space between the sofa and coffee table. Oe sat down across from him.<br />
<p>Out of his usual habit, Oe discreetly checked his visitor’s clothes and accessories. The man’s watch was a typical fake, the logo one letter off from the actual brand. He was wearing canvas basketball shoes on his feet. His white short-sleeved shirt was spotless and pressed neatly, and his black pants were kept in good condition with no strangely shiny spots. The simple design of his top and bottoms made his outfit look almost like a student’s summer uniform.<br />
<p>The man’s hair was short. It suited him, but the style was far from modern. His plain outfit and hairstyle gave him the kind of classic atmosphere of an actor in youth films back in the sixties, when Nikkatsu and Daiei were in their heyday. Oe wondered if the man dressed like this on purpose, but his watch was too pitiful for that, and his shoes did not match his outfit.<br />
<p>“Please let me introduce myself. I’m Michitoshi Oe, an investigator at Nishiyama Detective Agency. Would I be able to get your name?”<br />
<p>“Kei Kitagawa,” the man answered. When Oe asked for his age, he replied, “Thirty-four.” He looked much younger than his age. His head was small, and the structure of his brow and nose was well-balanced. He no doubt fell into “handsome” category, but the man’s face was sorely lacking in expression. It was hard to discern what he was thinking.<br />
<p>Clients who came to detective agencies came because they were all more or less “troubled” about something. They came in with uncertain faces, angry faces; those who were weak-willed were often nervous out of their wits at being in a detective agency. This man fitted none of these patterns.<br />
<p>Whether he was brave or simply ignorant, Oe would soon find out by talking to him. He got a clipboard ready and prepared to take notes.<br />
<p>“So you were saying you were looking for someone. Let me assure you that we would be very happy to be of help to you. Allow me to jump right in. Could you tell me what kind of person it is you’re searching for―name, age, your relationship with this person―with as much detail as you can?”<br />
<p>Oe quit his company after two years to join the detective agency, where he was now fast into his twenty-fourth year. He was turning forty-eight this year. His long work relationship with Nishiyama, the chief, had given Oe a certain level of power to make decisions based on his own discretion.<br />
<p>No matter what kind of request it was, they were not to accept it until they had heard the story first. This was because some clients asked for things that were completely beyond the boundaries of common sense. Once, a mother had come in asking them to find her son. When she elaborated, they discovered that the son was in fact missing in the mountains. His body had not been recovered, and they had already performed his funeral five years ago without a body. The mother, still wanting to find it nevertheless, had come to them with this request. Live bodies were one thing, but searching for a dead body was beyond the field of detective work. In the end, they politely backed out of her request.<br />
<p>“The man I want you to find is an acquaintance,” the man said. “His name is Takafumi Douno. He turns thirty-six this year.” The man spoke abruptly, in a low voice. Oe took down the important points and predicted this man’s situation from previous experience. When men sought other male acquaintances, it most likely had to do with borrowed money.<br />
<p>“When and how did you meet Mr. Douno?”<br />
<p>“We first met six years ago. Douno came into the cell where I was living, in prison.”<br />
<p>Oe’s hand naturally stopped at the word “prison”. He looked up. Even when their eyes met, Kitagawa’s expression did not change. Oe slowly looked down again to avoid giving away his agitation. He had handled a number of clients in the past with criminal histories, but Kitagawa was lacking in the outlaw, devil-may-care attitude that was so common to them.<br />
<p>Oe felt the tension mount at his own cookie-cutter questions. He did not know what kind of crime this man had committed, but perhaps he was prone to angry outbursts. Caution was necessary.<br />
<p>“So this Mr. Douno whom you were in prison with―can you tell me why you’re looking for him?”<br />
<p>“Because I want to see him.”<br />
<p>Oe slowly twiddled his ballpoint pen from side to side.<br />
<p>“But there are a lot of reasons you might want to see him. For example, maybe you two had some money-related disagreement in prison.”<br />
<p>“I want to see Douno because he’s someone I like.”<br />
<p>Oe furrowed his brow. One would not normally pay the staggering detective fees to find an average, friendly acquaintance.<br />
<p><i>I liked her back in school. I want you to find a teacher who was good to me when I was a student.</i> Oe could understand those kinds of requests. But the client and the sought person were both prisoners. <i>What kind of respect could you have for a fellow prisoner? Oh, maybe if he was a prisoner who reflected on what he did, felt true remorse, and became a reformed man. If he was the type to be well-liked for his lofty morals, I could still understand where he’s coming from.</i><br />
<p>“You said you first met him six years ago. When was the last time you saw him?”<br />
<p>“Spring of the next year, about a month before he was set to be released.”<br />
<p>The two had interacted for less than a year, and had a five year gap of no contact. Oe knitted his brow. Searching for people and their whereabouts became more difficult as more time passed.<br />
<p>“Did you and Mr. Douno exchange addresses before he was released?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa narrowed his eyes slightly.<br />
<p>“In prison, inmates get punished if they exchange addresses. The guy who gets out first could fraud the other guy’s family out of their money while he’s still in prison. Or, if they’re thieves, they’ll team up and pull heists together.”<br />
<p>“I see,” was all Oe could say. Everything in the man’s first-hand account of prison was new to him.<br />
<p>“It’s forbidden,” the man continued, “but it basically means you have to make sure you don’t get caught or ratted out. If you write it down, it’ll get caught during spot check. Everyone used to memorize everything. I was thinking of asking Douno for his address, but I got thrown into a secure cell before he was released, and I didn’t get to talk to him at all.”<br />
<p>Oe felt chilled. He did not know what a secure cell was, but from the tone of the conversation, he could imagine it was not a place where a well-behaved inmate would be put.<br />
<p>“Then, can you tell me everything you know about Mr. Douno? Anything will do. Even if you don’t know his exact address, it can be a prefecture, or even east or west Japan.”<br />
<p>“I don’t know. Douno never mentioned anything.”<br />
<p><i>Oh, come on</i>, Oe groaned inwardly. Detectives weren’t perfect. If he was given no information, he could not even begin to think about where and how to begin looking.<br />
<p>“Didn’t you discuss any personal things with Mr. Douno?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa seemed to lower his gaze slightly.<br />
<p>“I talked about myself. But Douno didn’t say anything.”<br />
<p>Oe posed him a few more questions. He found out that Douno had a younger sister, and that she and both his parents were alive and well, and that he had a lover whom he was planning to marry, but nothing else.<br />
<p>“Did you hear about what kind of job Mr. Douno had before he got into prison?”<br />
<p>“City hall.”<br />
<p>Amidst all the things Kitagawa claimed he did not know, this one was a quick answer. An occupation needing technical skill or qualification would create the possibility of Douno resuming a job in the same field; however, with city hall, once he was let go, he would never be able to go back. The potential path of finding him by his occupation ended abruptly and unceremoniously.<br />
<p>Oe stroke his chin, looking intently at his clipboard.<br />
<p>“His name, his age, and his former job is all we have. If you met each other in prison, you probably wouldn’t have photos. Allow me to tell you the truth: it would be very difficult to find Mr. Douno.”<br />
<p>Deep creases appeared between Kitagawa’s eyebrows. He had given up before even searching―Oe could understand why the man would be displeased.<br />
<p>“I’ll pay. I want you to find him.”<br />
<p>Oe hunched his shoulders slightly and spread his palms open.<br />
<p>“It’s not about the money. There are too few clues in the information you’ve given me, Mr. Kitagawa. I have nothing to narrow my focus on. If you’ll allow me to speak from past experience, the probability of finding someone in these circumstances is extremely low. Investigation also doesn’t come cheap. It’s best if you save your money for something else rather than a fruitless search.”<br />
<p>“You’re a detective. Isn’t it your job to find people?”<br />
<p>“Yes, but we’re not all-powerful. If there’s no information, there’s no way even we can find him.”<br />
<p>Oe sensed the man purse his lips in an angry line. Sensing the enormous torso slowly bend forward, he reflexively jumped backwards on the sofa. He had a feeling he was about to be punched.<br />
<p>“I’m begging you. Please find him,” the man pleaded, his forehead and hands touching the table in front of him. Oe stood up hastily and approached him.<br />
<p>“Please, lift your face, Mr. Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>The man slowly lifted his head. He did not so much as blink. Oe began to feel flustered, fixed with the man’s desperate gaze.<br />
<p>“The detective agency I went to last week, and another one the week before, both turned me down and told me they couldn’t find him. I don’t care how much it costs. I want you to find him, please.”<br />
<p>The tension radiating from the man was unsettling. Oe glanced left and right as if seeking help, but all of the other workers were out. He was the only one here.<br />
<p>“Just as the other agencies have told you, it will be difficult finding him.”<br />
<p>No matter how much explaining Oe did, the man only stubbornly responded with, “Please find him.” The conversation was going nowhere. Oe tried to think of an excuse that would send him home at least for the day.<br />
<p>“To tell you the truth, even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to take on your case on my own decision,” Oe explained. “All the power lies with the chief, and unless we have his OK, we can’t do anything. Since the chief is not here right now, would it be alright if I talked to him right after he comes back? I’ll ask him right away if we can take on your case, and I’ll contact you.”<br />
<p>The man gave a shallow nod, apparently satisfied with his hastily-composed excuse. Oe was relieved. He offered Kitagawa the clipboard he had been taking notes with, along with his pen.<br />
<p>“Anywhere there’s space, could you write down your address and name, and your cell phone number?”<br />
<p>The man’s writing was not exactly sloppy, but it was rather angular. His address read, “Maple On-site Dorm, Kitajima Steel Factory”. Here was a factory who had hired Kitagawa while aware of his criminal record. The man lived in an on-site dorm. <i>Definitely not making big bucks,</i> Oe conjectured.<br />
<p>He looked down at the clipboard that was returned to him, and questioned the man. Something important was missing.<br />
<p>“Could you tell me your cell phone number? I think you forgot to write it down.”<br />
<p>“I don’t have one.”<br />
<p>It was unusual for a young man like him not to have one.<br />
<p>“Do you have some sort of common telephone at your dorm, then?”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but someone broke it last month and it’s been like that since. Everyone has cell phones already, so people barely used it. That’s probably why they don’t feel like fixing it, either.”<br />
<p>“Isn’t that inconvenient for you? What about when you need to contact your family urgently?”<br />
<p>“I don’t have any family.”<br />
<p>For a moment, Oe’s words stuck in his throat.<br />
<p>“I have a mother,” the man continued, “but the last time I saw her was the one time before I got arrested. I probably have a father too, but I’ve never even heard about him.”<br />
<p>Didn’t mothers usually come to see their sons at least once, even though they were in prison? Was she so fed up with her son’s crime, or had she fled because she wanted nothing to do with it?<br />
<p>“Is there a telephone at your workplace that I can get hold of you through?”<br />
<p>“The company phone is for business. The president won’t like it if I get a call during work hours. But if it’s after work... oh, then the office would be closed.” The man folded his arms and knitted his brow, appearing to be deep in thought.<br />
<p>“I’ll come here tomorrow,” he said finally. ”Work ends past eight in the evening, so I can get here at eight thirty.”<br />
<p>Oe had been investigating an extramarital affair in the evenings since last week. If his target wrapped up at work by seven and went home straight without stopping along the way, it would take him about twenty minutes by train and fifteen minutes by foot from his office to his home. Oe figured he could still come back to the office after finishing the investigation. But if the target made contact with his illicit lover, Oe would have no way of knowing when he could get back.<br />
<p>In that case, however, Oe concluded that he could always tell the chief about his situation and have him deal with Kitagawa instead.<br />
<p>“Alright,” Oe agreed. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow at eight-thirty at this office.”<br />
<p>Once their discussion was over, the man strode swiftly out. He was just as impatient leaving as he was coming in. Oe drew up to the window and looked down at the sidewalk below. The dirty umbrella was easily spotted even from a distance as it grew smaller amidst the rain. The man seemed pushy, and it would probably be a hassle if he argued with the same stubbornness tomorrow. A heavy sigh escaped naturally from Oe’s lips.<br />
<p>What crime had that man, Kitagawa, been imprisoned for? He had been released four years ago, which meant he had been thirty. If he had been granted a release at that age, he could not have committed a crime that serious. <i>Theft, fraud, assault, drugs―no, probably not drugs.</i> Oe’s liberal assumption came from the man’s classic look.<br />
<p><i>He doesn’t seem like a bad man, but he was raised by a single parent. His mother doesn’t seem too affectionate, either. He looks like the straight-laced type, but maybe he had something in him that made him turn to crime</i>, Oe thought casually, as if were none of his own affair.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>It was past eight when Oe arrived home at his two-bedroom apartment. There was no phone call asking for backup from Katori, who was out tailing someone since the afternoon. Things appeared to be going well. Oe could have gone home earlier if he wanted, but he had gotten engrossed in a conversation with the chief.<br />
<p>When he explained his opinion to the chief, that the case for man with a criminal record who came in the afternoon would probably not end in a successful search, the chief agreed.<br />
<p>“It’s probably best if we turn him down,” he had said. When Oe told him that the man did not have a phone, and that he would come to the office the next evening to hear what he had to say, the chief reassured him that he would decline on Oe’s behalf if he was out investigating.<br />
<p>The rain had started in the afternoon, but continued well into the night, getting lighter and heavier but showing no signs of letting up. If tomorrow’s weather was like this too, Oe would have trouble tailing. The target would be easy to spot since he had an umbrella, but he could just as easily be spotted himself since he would be carrying his own. It was hard to keep the right amount of tailing distance.<br />
<p>Oe walked down the narrow hall while he loosened the knot of his tie. There was no dress code at work, but in the detective field, trustworthiness was paramount. Suits usually boded well for everyone, and they made their clients feel comfortable. In addition, detectives in principle had to go unnoticed because of the kind of work they did, such as tailing and stakeouts. Apart from theme parks, perhaps, the clothing that best blended in with daily scenery and was natural to see on a man of his age was a suit. More than anything, suits were the chief’s idea of “looking good”. However, Katori on the other hand never wore suits unless he had to. Opinions on aesthetics were scattered at this office.<br />
<p>Oe went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He failed to spot anything he could eat right away, so he took a cup of instant noodles out of the cupboard and put on some water to boil. Oe always finished work at irregular hours, so as soon as his wife realized that any dinner left for him would only spoil, she stopped setting his portion aside.<br />
<p>Unable to wait for the three minutes it took to cook, Oe sat at the living room table across from the kitchen and began to slurp on his undercooked noodles. He had just started when he heard hasty footsteps in the hallway. His wife was peeking in from the entrance to the room.<br />
<p>“You’re home early.” She sat down across from Oe. Sometimes when she had a bad day, she would ignore Oe altogether when he came home, but today she seemed to be in a good mood. Oe’s wife was two years younger than him and beautiful in her own way when they married, but none of that beauty was apparent now. Her cheeks sagged and the wrinkles were etched into her face. Her body was shapeless. Oe did not even feel the desire to unclothe her anymore. She was becoming less and less of a woman to him. Oe figured that perhaps was no longer a man to her as well, for the same kind of reason.<br />
<p>Oe’s wife propped up her elbows on the table and rested her cheek on her hand, watching Oe’s face intently. However, when he turned away, she let out a long, long sigh.<br />
<p>“I talked to Miharu, and she still says she won’t be able to make it into a national university.” Their daughter, Miharu, was in her third and last year of high school. Next year, she was set to apply for university. She had said she wanted to enter the Arts department of a national university in the neighbourhood.<br />
<p>“You know she’s bad at maths and sciences. She says she won’t be able to pass the <acronym title="National Center Test for University Admissions, or the “Center test” is a nation-wide exam conducted for students applying for national universities, and includes a range of subjects.">national exams</acronym>.”<br />
<p>Oe furrowed his brow. In his opinion, they were already straining themselves considerably to pay for her to attend a national university. A private university would only increase that burden.<br />
<p>“We won’t be able to manage a private university with your salary, right?” his wife said. “I know. Even if I were to work part-time, it wouldn’t add much.”<br />
<p>It seemed his wife had internalized the fact as well.<br />
<p>“Can you seriously consider what we talked about last time?” his wife glanced up at him.<br />
<p>“What’s that again?” Oe bluffed. His wife clenched both hands and banged them on the table.<br />
<p>“What I said about you helping out with my father’s construction company!”<br />
<p>“I’ve already said no. I have a career I want to follow.”<br />
<p>His wife pouted.<br />
<p>“I’m not saying your detective work is bad,” she said. “But your salary hasn’t gone up in the past five years, has it? Some years you’re lucky enough to get a bonus, but some years you don’t get any. To tell you the truth, your salary is barely enough to sustain the three of us. For someone the same age as you working at a regular company, it would be normal to make at least <acronym title="Approx. 3,000 to 4,000 USD.">three hundred... no, four hundred thousand a month</acronym>... even more.”<br />
<p>Her voice was as sharp as needles. When Oe gave no answer, she grabbed his arm and shook it.<br />
<p>“Hey!” she insisted.<br />
<p>“Convince Miharu that she’s going to a national university or nothing.”<br />
<p>Suddenly, his wife’s expression changed. “It’s not fair that she has to give up on higher learning because we can’t afford it. The poor girl!” Her shrill, agitated voice was irritating to the ears.<br />
<p>“I’m not saying she has to give up. I can still pay for her to go to a national university.”<br />
<p>“I’ll make Miharu work harder, of course, but aren’t you willing even to bend a little?”<br />
<p>Oe averted his eyes from his wife and her tirade. “You can eat enough not to starve and you have enough to wear to keep you warm. Don’t be greedy.”<br />
<p><i>Hah.</i> He heard an irritating laugh.<br />
<p>“What are you saying?" his wife said derisively. "That’s not enough, which is why everyone’s working. If we only needed food and clothes, we’d be no better than the homeless. Stop giving me nonsense and give it some serious thought. My father’s already told me that he’s willing to give you more than your current salary if you have any desire to transfer to his company.”<br />
<p>Oe was at once embarrassed and intensely angered that his wife had been snitching to his father-in-law about how her husband’s salary was too low. It was true that detective work could hardly be called high-paying, but he had worked diligently at his job. He had handed over all of his earnings to his wife, himself enduring an allowance of only <acronym title="About 100 USD.">ten thousand yen</acronym> a month.<br />
<p>“It must be so hassle-free, living life just looking downwards at all the people who have less than us,” his wife said scathingly. “Well, reality isn’t like that. Consider what I said before, do you hear?” she spat before leaving the living room. Oe no longer felt like eating the rest of his cup noodles. His wife’s loud outburst at his ear had taken away his appetite altogether.<br />
<p>His daughter was still dear to him, no matter how underachieving she was, and he more than wanted to let her go to the university of her choosing. But realistically, he did not have the money. In addition to that, Oe was also not convinced that Miharu wanted to go to university that badly in the first place. If she really was serious, would she not have stayed home studying diligently during summer vacation instead of “taking a breather” and going away on a trip?<br />
<p>Oe had told his wife that he had a career wanted to follow, but he was actually not so attached to detective work. The majority of the cases that came into his office were investigations to do with love affairs. Dealing with these cases every day made him distrustful of people. There was no emotion more ugly than hatred and jealousy. Every time he encountered angry yelling, crying, and confrontations, he was overcome with futility. But he got used to it; it was shocking to see a river of sewage in a place one had never been to before, but one’s eyes eventually glossed over it once it became a daily fixture. This was the same thing.<br />
<p>Oe’s hesitation towards changing careers came from uncertainty more than his attachment to his job. After living so freely, he did not know if he could handle a regular company job. He knew nothing about the construction industry, and he had no experience in clerical work. Could he go from spending the majority of the day out and about to being chained to his desk? He figured his wife would not understand what it meant to find out he was not cut out for a job, or to be labelled as incompetent, at this age.<br />
<p>The woman’s eyes only saw the numbers on his salary slip. If he talked to her, then, would she understand? Would she say, “I guess it can’t be helped” and back down? Oe laughed to himself. He had a feeling about how this would end.<br />
<p>“You don’t know until you try,” his wife would insist, and she would cease to think any further.<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-fragile-swindler_10.html">PART 7</a>.</center><br />
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* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.ca/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-6107835357709843022013-05-13T20:45:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.426-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 5My apologies for my utter lack of ability in writing titillating sentences.<br />
<br />
This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/05/novel-in-box-in-box-pt-4.html">PART 4</a>.<br />
<br />
<span class="new">WARNING: Sexual content.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Douno resigned himself to being kissed at night, and concluded that there was nothing he could do. If he said no, Kitagawa would not listen; on the other hand, if he resisted and made a commotion, he would only cause trouble for his fellow cellmates. If he felt Kitagawa kissing him, Douno made sure not to open his eyes. He pretended to be asleep, and waited patiently for the man’s presence to leave him.<br />
<p>Perhaps because of his long stint in prison, Kitagawa was sensitive to the footsteps of the night guard. Sometimes in the middle of a kiss, Kitagawa would draw away suddenly. A dozen or so seconds later, the guard would come patrolling. The guard walked on the carpeted part of the hallway during rounds, and his footsteps were faint; they were not faint enough, however, to escape Kitagawa’s uncanny hearing ability.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was also a master of concealment. The cold pills he had given to Douno were pills he had been collecting since summertime, by lying at every medical checkup that he was ill. Collecting medicine was against the rules, and was punishable if caught. But even during spot checks of their belongings in the group cell or in the factory, Kitagawa’s pills were never found. When it came to hiding things, he was incredibly adept.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>As the days wore on without a way to curb Kitagawa from persistently following him around, Douno gradually grew used to the man’s uncomfortable level of closeness. Once Douno began taking it in stride, he found he could put up fairly well with Kitagawa’s unnatural attachment and kisses.<br />
<p>Telling the man off did not work. Kitagawa often responded with a nonsensical argument. To avoid letting himself get angry, Douno figured it was best not to say anything in the first place. Kitagawa seemed to interpret Douno’s silence as acceptance, and began to touch and kiss him as a matter of course.<br />
<p>Kumon joked at first about Kitagawa’s fixation with Douno, but he eventually stopped saying anything. Shiba minded his own business.<br />
<p>One Sunday at the end of a frigid February, there was a gathering for second-class prisoners. Prisoners were classified into four different classes, and those in third class or higher were given the privilege of participating in a gathering on their day off of work, where they ate snacks, drank juice, and watched a movie.<br />
<p>Douno was only months into his sentence, and therefore remained a fourth-class inmate with no gathering to go to. Kitagawa was in second class. That day there was a gathering for second-class inmates, and Kitagawa left in the morning to watch a movie. For Douno, who usually spent the whole day being followed around by Kitagawa, even a short respite from his presence was a great load off his shoulders.<br />
<p>Douno was enjoying a book by himself for once when Kakizaki spoke up from his spot across.<br />
<p>“Mr. Douno,” he drawled, “You’ve got really fair skin.”<br />
<p>Douno sensed that he was implying something. “It must be because I don’t get out much,” he said casually.<br />
<p>“It’s not just because you don’t get out. You’re fair to begin with,” Kakizaki said. “It stands out in the showers.”<br />
<p>Douno was disturbed to know where the man’s eyes had been prying during their baths.<br />
<p>“Y’know what I’ve been thinkin’ about, Mr. Douno? Is bro Kitagawa really your type?”<br />
<p>Douno hesitated at the bare question.<br />
<p>“He and I aren’t like that,” he replied.<br />
<p>“Uh, it’s pretty obvious you guys are homo,” Kakizaki said blandly. Douno had no argument to make. He had drawn a clear line within himself, but for everyone else, the fact that he and Kitagawa kissed at night and were intimate for no apparent reason drew the inevitable assumption that they were gay.<br />
<p>Kakizaki leaned over the desk.<br />
<p>“Just between you and me,” he said, lowering his voice. “I heard bro Kitagawa’s never done it with a girl <i>or</i> a guy.”<br />
<p>Kumon had apparently heard him in spite of his hushed tone, and pounced on the subject.<br />
<p>“So he’s a virgin? Stop lying.”<br />
<p>Kakizaki wrinkled his nose. “It’s true,” he insisted. “I asked him myself. He’s in for murder, right? He didn’t have any experience when he got into jail at 19, so you can be almost sure he’s never done it with a girl. He said he’s never done it with a guy, either, so he’s gotta be a virgin.”<br />
<p>Kumon crossed his arms and chuckled humorously. “Twenty-eight and virgin, huh. He’s got a big one down there. It’s a shame he hasn’t made good use of it.”<br />
<p>“Size doesn’t matter. It’s all about the skill, mister.”<br />
<p>The conversation was turning into something Douno preferred to stay out of, so he pretended to concentrate on his book. So far, Douno had dated three women and had sex with two of them. It was perhaps fewer than most, but he did have some experience.<br />
<p>“Hey, Mr. Douno,” Kakizaki drawled. “If you let a guy like Kitagawa with a big dick and no experience bone you, you’ll tear your ass, no mistake. Take someone who’s a decent size with some skill instead, like me―”<br />
<p>Kumon smacked Kakizaki over the head.<br />
<p>“Don’t even think of coming onto Douno in front of Kitagawa, you hear? You’ll be killed.”<br />
<p>“I know that,” Kakizaki whined, cradling his head. “That’s why I’m doing it when he’s not here.”<br />
<p>Shiba, who until then had been a staunch listener, thumped his book shut and sighed.<br />
<p>“To me, it seems like it’s just Kitagawa’s one-sided thing. At least, I know Douno doesn’t have those feelings for him. Right, Douno?”<br />
<p>“Well, I guess,” Douno replied vaguely. Kakizaki did not look convinced, and glanced at Douno doubtfully. Douno lowered his eyes back to the pages of his book and pretended not to notice. He mulled over whether he should make Kitagawa stop kissing him so people would stop getting the wrong idea.<br />
<p>Kitagawa returned from his gathering before noon. Immediately upon his return, he fished out of nowhere three individually-wrapped square cookies about five centimetres wide. The four inmates’ eyes were instantly glued to the cookies. Sweets were a rare luxury in prison. Excluding those who absolutely hated them, every prisoner eventually began to crave something sugary.<br />
<p>At first, Douno had a hard time understanding prisoners’ burning desire for sweets, but now he knew. It was a physical craving.<br />
<p>“What’s this?” Kumon asked, swallowing hungrily.<br />
<p>“I got leftovers from the party. This is for Mr. Shiba, Mr. Kumon, and Kakizaki.”<br />
<p>Douno was stunned that his name was not called. The other three inmates glanced at him guiltily, but finished the cookies by themselves.<br />
<p>Douno tried not to look at Kitagawa and the other three as he wondered why he did not get a cookie. Kitagawa had favoured him so far; why was this time different?<br />
<p>Was Kitagawa doing this to spite him? Was this his way of getting back at Douno for treating him crudely despite Kitagawa’s persistent confessions of love?<br />
<p>Once he finished sharing the cookies with everyone else, Kitagawa sat down beside Douno as he usually did, and cuddled up to him playfully. Something still nagged at Douno’s heart.<br />
<p>Even as night fell and he climbed into his futon, Douno still thought about the cookie from earlier in the day. He felt miserly for being so fixated about a cookie, but it bothered him nevertheless. He could not, however, bring himself to ask outright why he had been left out.<br />
<p>The footsteps of the night guard doing his rounds faded into the distance. Douno sensed the man beside him shifting, and rolled over on his side to turn his back to him.<br />
<p>The man stroked his hair and nuzzled his cheek. Douno usually ignored him and waited for it to pass, but today he felt he could not stand it. Douno yanked his futon over his head, prepared to receive a warning from the guard if things came to it.<br />
<p>But his futon was pulled back down just as forcefully. Douno knitted his brow and screwed his eyes shut.<br />
<p>“Want something good?” said a voice at his ear. Douno opened his eyes.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was holding a cookie―the same one he had shared with everyone else in the daytime, excluding Douno. He could smell the sweet aroma as it was brought to his nose. Douno found himself opening his mouth before even saying thank you.<br />
<p>“Finish it before the guard comes around again,” Kitagawa said. He bit down on one end of the cookie, then thrust it out in front of Douno’s face. He jerked his chin in a signal to hurry up. Douno hastily sank his teeth into the cookie. He took one bite, two―he was planning to stop before their lips touched, but his greed got the better of him―his lips brushed against Kitagawa’s. Suddenly, Kitagawa leaned in for a deeper kiss. He weighed down on Douno, and parted his lips. His tongue stirred the inside of Douno’s mouth, sweet from the cookie he had eaten.<br />
<p>It was a strange feeling. Kitagawa had given him a cookie after all. He had a special spot in Kitagawa’s heart―the thought made him feel happy and relieved. Once his stubbornness in that aspect crumbled, Douno was conscious for the first time that he was kissing another man.<br />
<p>The other man’s breathing, his scent, the heat of another’s living flesh―Douno felt his groin begin to itch, and his whole body flushed hotly in embarrassment at his own reaction. He tried to pry the other man off him, but his arms were trembling.<br />
<p>Kitagawa, however, seemed not to notice Douno’s response; once he had ravaged Douno to his content, he promptly returned to his own futon.<br />
<p>Douno did not know what to do with his hardened member. If he stood up to grab a tissue, it would be too obvious; if he left it as is, he was bound to ejaculate in his sleep. Douno managed to lay still and think of other things until the impulse passed. That night, he had a dream: it was a very realistic one of being fondled by Kitagawa until he came.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Although Douno admitted to himself that he was now aware of Kitagawa in a sexual way, he never dared to say it out loud. To him, it wasn’t a normal thing to be approached romantically by another man and then imagine oneself having an orgasm at the hands of the same man.<br />
<p>Sometimes when Kitagawa kissed him at night, it was such a deep and tenacious kiss that Douno felt his groin stiffen in pleasure, but Kitagawa always returned to his futon promptly afterwards without going any further. Douno began to wonder if Kitagawa’s body was not having the same kind of response as his.<br />
<p>Didn’t Kitagawa’s lower regions go through the same natural biological reaction as his did? What if his didn’t? ―It made Douno feel like he was the only perverted one, which was depressing.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was used to living in a cell, which meant he could ejaculate within seconds at will in the washroom stall. That was probably why he was less frustrated―that was what Douno told himself to reassure his spirits.<br />
<p>Despite the slight change in his heart, the days went by unchanged as usual. Winter passed, and with March came the hints of spring. Douno was down to the last three months of his sentence, and he submitted a “hair growth” slip. Inmates on their last three months were allowed to apply for permission to grow their hair out in preparation for their release. Douno was sincerely gratefuly that he would not have to be released with a shaven head, an obvious trademark of someone who had served time.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s mood turned foul ever since Douno began to grow his hair out. That was not to say he released his frustrations through violence, or was uncooperative in any way, but if Kitagawa had been a man of “few words” until now, he now turned into a man of “barely any”.<br />
<p>Every time someone commented that Douno was down to his last 80 days, Kitagawa fixed him with a glare. After a number of such incidents, everyone stopped mentioning Douno’s release around him.<br />
<p>One night, Douno woke to Kitagawa kissing him. He was lucid, but unable to tell if this was real or an extension of his dream. Douno found himself pushing his own tongue against the slippery one inside his mouth. Normally, he would not respond to the other’s actions, because he knew it would make Kitagawa get carried away. But day after day of the same advances along with the countdown until his release had loosened Douno’s emotional restraint.<br />
<p>It felt good to intertwine their tongues as they kissed. Douno thought he was still dreaming; he wanted more, and he hungrily pulled the other man’s head closer. After a long kiss, he was hugged so tightly he thought he would suffocate, and his shortness of breath finally woke him up completely.<br />
<p>When he realized that the man was real, Douno panicked a little. Kitagawa was always cautious of the patrol officer, and at most he only sneaked the top half of his body over to Douno’s side so that he could return to his own futon quickly. But this time, for some reason, Kitagawa had crawled all the way into his futon.<br />
<p>Douno flushed with embarrassment as he felt Kitagawa’s knee nudging his crotch. His groin was stiff as if in sync with the sensual kisses he had devoured.<br />
<p>“Wait―stop―”<br />
<p>When he resisted, he was met with a kiss. With their lips still locked, Kitagawa pressed his leg against Douno’s crotch. As the man’s thigh rubbed against his erect member, Douno’s lower part, long deprived of stimulation, gathered heat and turned hard.<br />
<p>“Stop―” he pleaded in a whisper, “my pyjamas―they’ll get dirty.” The thigh stopped moving, but instead, a warm hand slipped into his pyjama bottoms and wrapped around the tip of his penis, its fingertips tightening around the tapered part.<br />
<p>Unable to contain it anymore, Douno released himself into Kitagawa’s hand. He was kissed again before the heat could fade, his tongue caught up, and a shiver ran down his back.<br />
<p>Amidst it all, Kitagawa abruptly slipped back to his futon. The patrol guard came around moments later. After the guard had gone, Kitagawa got up and washed his hands. Douno covered his ears, not wanting to hear the sound of the water.<br />
<p>Kitagawa returned to his futon after washing his hands. Douno was still covering his ears when Kitagawa closed his hand around Douno’s right wrist. His hand was cold, like the water that had run over it. But soon, it too became warm.<br />
<p>They held hands until morning. Douno tried to let go many times, but each time, Kitagawa re-clasped his hand tightly.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>They had exercise period that day. Douno had a foreboding feeling about being alone with Kitagawa. He tried to start a conversation with Shiba instead, but Kitagawa caught him before he could. He was led away by the hand to the wall, and drawn unnaturally close. They sat down.<br />
<p>“I thought I was the only one who felt good while we kissed,” Kitagawa murmured quietly. Douno knew the man was talking about his erection during their kiss last night. He stared at the ground.<br />
<p>“You’ll be leaving in a little while, Takafumi. I don’t wanna be apart.”<br />
<p>“I can’t help it.”<br />
<p>“I don’t wanna be apart.”<br />
<p>The man squeezed his right hand.<br />
<p>“I don’t wanna be apart,” he said, almost in a plea. Douno’s heart trembled. The man had been abused by his mother, framed as a murderer, and lived his whole life without knowing the warmth of another human―and this man was relying on him. When Douno thought of that, he could not help but want to do something for him.<br />
<p>“You’ll be out in another year, too. Then we could meet outside the walls.”<br />
<p>“Will you be with me when I get out, Takafumi?” the man asked, peering into his face. Douno thought about what he meant by “be with me.”<br />
<p>“If you mean live together with you, I can’t do that. But I’m sure we can meet up once in a while and chat―”<br />
<p>“I want to live with you.”<br />
<p>“Two men living together? It’s not right.”<br />
<p>“Kakizaki said some homo couples move in together.”<br />
<p>Douno was stunned to be called homosexual. He had never thought of himself that way, and he had only compromised to being kissed because he did not want to cause unneeded trouble. <br />
<p>“I’m not a... well, I’m not homo.”<br />
<p>“You got a hard-on kissing a man. You have to be homo.”<br />
<p>Douno felt himself blush to his ears. “I―I thought you were someone else.”<br />
<p>“Someone else?”<br />
<p>The lie rolled off his tongue easily.<br />
<p>“I have a lover waiting outside for me. She―she’s a woman, of course. And we’re dating with plans to get married.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s face paled in an instant. Douno never saw anyone’s expression change this clearly before.<br />
<p>“―That’s why I can’t live with you, but let’s―let’s be friends.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked down with his mouth still half-open. He cradled his head in his arms, and curled up into a tiny ball. Douno banished the sight from his line of vision and pretended to focus on the softball game.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Perhaps Kitagawa was shocked to know that he had a lover; for a while, the man was quiet. He stopped making overly intimate contact, and stopped kissing him at night.<br />
<p>Kitagawa constantly had a difficult expression on his face, as if he were deep in thought, and he spent every spare moment staring at Douno. Douno continued to mark off each day on his calendar while feeling some discomfort at the man’s persistent gaze. It happened one evening after dinner, when he was down to less than two months to his release. The other three men in the cell were talking about an inmate from the cell next door, who had been thrown into solitary confinement. Douno was reading a book. Kitagawa was beside Douno, staring at the book in his hands.<br />
<p>“My sentence ends next August 15,” Kitagawa told him suddenly.<br />
<p>“August...”<br />
<p>“Mid-August. When I get out, Takafumi, I’ll come see you.” His tone was set.<br />
<p>“Sure. We should meet up and talk.”<br />
<p>“Are you gonna live in an apartment?”<br />
<p>Douno wondered why he would ask, but answered anyway.<br />
<p>“Most likely, yes. My parents retired into the country, but I’ll only cause them trouble if I move back in with them. Besides, I think there would be more job opportunities in the city.”<br />
<p>“Are you gonna live with your girlfriend?”<br />
<p>Until Kitagawa mentioned it, Douno had completely forgotten his lie about having a girlfriend.<br />
<p>“I’m not sure about that.”<br />
<p>“If you’re living alone, I wanna live with you.”<br />
<p>“You can’t. I’ll be―”<br />
<p>“It only has to be until your girlfriend moves in, or you two get married. If your apartment’s too small, I can live in the closet. If I can work, I’ll pay you.”<br />
<p>“That’s not what I was talking about. I―”<br />
<p>“Once you get married, I’ll move into the apartment next door. I won’t cause you trouble. If I can just see your face once a day, I’ll be okay.”<br />
<p>Douno fell silent. He had no answer to give.<br />
<p>“I thought about lots of things,” Kitagawa said. “And I still want to be with you.”<br />
<p>Douno clasped his hands and rubbed his thumbs together on the table.<br />
<p>“Uh, well, I’m glad to know that you like me, but―”<br />
<p>“If we’re living together, and you want to bring your girlfriend home, and you guys want to have sex, I’ll go out until you guys are done.”<br />
<p>“Excuse me a minute,” Douno said abruptly as he stood up to go to the washroom, unable to bear the awkwardness any longer. But even when he returned, the heavy, suffocating atmosphere remained unchanged.<br />
<p>They sat in silence until rest period rolled around. They cleaned the room, changed, and laid out their futons.<br />
<p>“Hey,” Kitagawa said, as Douno lay in his futon with his eyes closed. “Everyone says it’s weird, but I really used to think I wouldn’t mind living here for the rest of my life. Sometimes it can get too hot or too cold, but I never have to worry about having enough to eat. Even if I get out, I’d have nothing I want to do. But when I thought about how I could live with you―stick close to you all day long if I wanted, and never get in trouble for it―then I started wanting to go outside.”<br />
<p>Douno felt like this was something he was not allowed to hear, but he could not ignore it. He knew the man was serious.<br />
<p>“Even after you said you had a girlfriend, Takafumi, I kept thinking and thinking. But no matter how much I think about it, I still want to be with you.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa fixed his gaze on Douno.<br />
<p>“Takafumi, I’m always thinking of you. I think of you the moment I wake up until when I go to sleep. Does your girlfriend think of you as much as I do?”<br />
<p>“I’m going to sleep now,” Douno said, and closed his eyes. Once he said so, Kitagawa stopped trying to talk to him. Douno thought of the man beside him while he kept his eyes shut. Though ridden with guilt at the lie he had told, he had no intention of going back on his word.<br />
<p>On their weekend off work, Kitagawa and Kumon left to watch a movie for their second-class gathering. Kumon seemed excited to go to his first party.<br />
<p>Of those who were left behind, Shiba and Douno took to reading their books. Kakizaki perused a car magazine, but seemed to tire of it quickly. He reshelved the book and began trying to start a conversation with Douno instead.<br />
<p>“What’s your girlfriend like, Mr. Douno?”<br />
<p>Douno looked up from his book.<br />
<p>“I heard from the bro,” Kakizaki drawled. “You’re gonna get married after you get out? She mus’ be a nice girl. Still willing to wait for a guy who’s got a criminal record.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, I guess...” Douno answered vaguely. He had never expected Kitagawa to tell anyone else about his haphazard lie.<br />
<p>“Oh, but you bet I was <i>surprised</i>,” Kakizaki continued. “I thought all this time you and bro were together. You guys were gettin’ it on at night, weren’t you?”<br />
<p>“Well... that was...”<br />
<p>“I was <i>so</i> jealous, y’know. But then suddenly a while ago, bro stopped being all over you like he usually is. I thought it was weird, so I asked him about it, ‘n that’s what he told me.” Kakizaki shrugged. “I dunno, man. Bro’s done some daring stuff, but he gets hung up about the tiniest things sometimes. He should just separate what goes on in the walls with what goes on outside.”<br />
<p>Suddenly from this point, Kakizaki lowered his voice into a whisper.<br />
<p>“Aren’ you frustrated now that you’ve stopped doing it with bro? Y’know, just saying, I’m pretty good at giving head.”<br />
<p>“I’m not interested in that kind of stuff.”<br />
<p>“But you were doin’ it with bro, weren’t you?”<br />
<p>Douno had nothing to say in return.<br />
<p>“I think you got the potential for it, Mr. Douno. I saw you a couple times being kissed by bro, and you looked like you were enjoyin’ it.”<br />
<p>“That’s enough,” Shiba warned. “Douno says he’s not interested, and if Kitagawa’s going to give up, then that’s good for him.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but bro’s definitely still hung up about it. I woke up one night to take a piss, and I saw bro just <i>staring</i> at Mr. Douno. I wondered if he was gonna jump him, but he didn’t. He just watches.”<br />
<p>They heard voices in the distance doing roll call, and soon Kitagawa and Kumon were back. Kumon was talking animatedly about the snacks he had devoured, but Kitagawa only silently stared at his feet.<br />
<p>At night, Douno woke up to someone shaking his shoulder gently. Something was pushed up against his lips, and the moment realized it was a cookie covered in chocolate, he had drawn it into his mouth. He ate it discreetly as to not make noise. Kitagawa silently watched Douno eat.<br />
<p>“Is it good?” he asked. When Douno nodded, Kitagawa smiled slightly, then looked down.<br />
<p>“Thanks, but you don’t have to do this anymore,” Douno said in a low voice. Kitagawa looked up. “You don’t have to bring sweets for me. You’ll go through hell if you get caught.” He knew how contradictory he sounded by saying so after he had eaten it.<br />
<p>“I don’t care if I get punished,” Kitagawa said emotionlessly. “I can’t think of anything else that might make you happy.”<br />
<p>Douno dropped his gaze.<br />
<p>“I love you, Takafumi, but―”<br />
<p>He looked up.<br />
<p>“It hurts to be in love, doesn’t it?” Kitagawa said. “Takafumi, do I have to feel like this the whole time I’m in love with you?”<br />
<p>Douno was at once overcome by an urge to run away, but at the same time, he felt his heart being wrenched by the man’s earnest confession. He could feel Kitagawa’s pain―enough to make him want to give back at least a little.<br />
<p>“It only has to be while we’re here,” Kitagawa mumbled. “Think about me more than your girlfriend. You don’t even have a month left in this place. Just until then.”<br />
<p>A firmly-defined period of time. Douno thought to himself. <i>He wants me to ‘think about him’, which is just a matter of feelings. If my one word is enough to satisfy him</i>, he thought, <i>then―</i><br />
<p>“Fine.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s head snapped up.<br />
<p>“If it’s only while we’re here―”<br />
<p>Kitagawa had been leaning forward, but he now threw his arms around Douno and pinned him down, startling him. Douno was met with a deep kiss―so deep he could not breathe. He had figured “thinking about” was a matter of the heart, and did not expect it to include anything in the physical sense. Kitagawa kissed him over and over amid ragged breaths. Douno could feel the weight on top of him, and the man’s grinding hips. Douno’s groin stiffened at the stimulation to the erogenous spots inside his mouth. In the end, he was discovered by Kitagawa, who came crawling into his futon.<br />
<p>“So I can make you hard, too.” Kitagawa’s hand pressed his crotch through the fabric. Douno averted his face from the man in front of him.<br />
<p>“I just thought you were someone else―”<br />
<p>“Who?”<br />
<p>Douno avoided the man’s eyes.<br />
<p>“My girlfriend,” he murmured.<br />
<p>“Liar.”<br />
<p>“I’m―I’m not lying.”<br />
<p>“Your eyes were open while we were doing it. You know it’s me, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>Cornered into a tight spot, Douno chewed his lip, but the other man’s tongue pried his mouth open. Douno was unable to raise a voice, or even resist, as the man’s fingers plunged into his pyjamas. The hand grasped at his core so tightly it hurt, and rubbed the length of his shaft.<br />
<p>A violent pleasure coursed through his body that made him almost lose his senses. He was close to ejaculating, and his spine had started to tremble when Kitagawa abruptly slipped back into his own futon.<br />
<p>“Wh―?” Douno’s pyjama bottoms were still pulled down, underwear and all; the tip of his upturned penis rubbed against his blanket. He heard the footsteps of the night patrol officer. He couldn’t wait for the guard to pass. Douno wrapped his fingers around his own member, and pressed down on its tip. He released the sticky liquid into his hands. Once he had gotten it out, he realized he needed to wipe his hand, but could not get out to fetch a tissue. He waited for the guard to pass, but before he could stand up, Kitagawa came crawling back into his futon again.<br />
<p>Kitagawa noticed the clear change in Douno’s penis.<br />
<p>“Did you do it yourself?” he murmured.<br />
<p>When Douno did not answer him, Kitagawa pulled down his pyjama bottoms about halfway, then rubbed his own erect sex against Douno’s groin.<br />
<p>Kitagawa thrust his hips for a few minutes before Douno felt something warm dripping down his crotch. Kitagawa got up languidly to retrieve a few tissues from his shelf, and wiped Douno’s crotch down. After another deep kiss, he went back to his own futon, and tried to go to sleep holding Douno’s right hand.<br />
<p>That hand was still dirty with his own release. Douno resisted, but Kitagawa pried his fingers open by force.<br />
<p>At the sticky sensation, Kitagawa finally seemed to realize why Douno had kept his right hand in a stubborn fist.<br />
<p>“Is this yours, Takafumi?”<br />
<p>He did not answer. The man then stuck out his tongue and gave his hand a lick.<br />
<p>“St―stop―!”<br />
<p>He shivered as the man licked him between the fingers. Kitagawa licked everything clean before he closed his fingers firmly around Douno’s hand, and closed his eyes.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>It was just a matter of the heart. A matter of feelings―this was so for Douno, but different for Kitagawa. His level of physical intimacy escalated even more than before Douno had mentioned having a lover. Kitagawa’s advances were glaringly obvious, and he appeared not to care about the gazes of everyone else but the guard. Douno began to feel ostracized even within their cell.<br />
<p>When they were together, it was as if Kitagawa had to be touching some part of him in order to be satisfied. He would hold hands, or lay a hand on his shoulder; once, he had even pretended to talk to him only to playfully bite his earlobe instead.<br />
<p>Kisses were often, and not even at night anymore; Douno was startled when Kitagawa kissed him suddenly after dinner. Their cellmates were also wide-eyed with surprise. Even if he asked the man not to do it in front of people, Kitagawa brushed it off by saying no one cared anyway.<br />
<p>By now, Douno had a more-than-good idea of just how much Kitagawa was infatuated with him. No matter when or where, the man only ever looked at him. He really, truly only looked at him. On top of it all were Kitagawa’s repeated confessions of “I love you” and “I’m in love with you”―it was enough to sway even someone who was not particularly so inclined.<br />
<p>In fact, “swayed” was precisely the effect on Douno. His aversion to kissing in public waned gradually the more times they kissed. By now, he had also gotten used to Kitagawa crawling into his futon every night and stripping him nearly naked.<br />
<p>Kitagawa began drawing again. This time, it was a floor plan of a detached house―a small bungalow.<br />
<p>“This is the entrance. If you go down the hallway, the kitchen is on the right side, and across from that is the living room. The room beyond that is the room where you sleep. The bath is here, and the toilet is next to that.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa explained every little detail to Douno.<br />
<p>“I’ll have a fence all around the house. And I’ll plant a tree in the yard. I’d want a tree that blooms. Like cherry blossoms, or something.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa happily went on to fill in his drawing with various things.<br />
<p>“I want a dog, too. A big one. And then in the evenings, we’ll take it out for walks together.”<br />
<p>Douno was unsettled at the way Kitagawa talked about something that could be his fancy or his dreams. There were only a few dozen days left of their promised relationship, yet Kitagawa spoke as if it would last forever.<br />
<p>“Hey, how much do you think a house like this would cost? About <acronym title="Less than 30,000 USD.">3,000,000</acronym>? I think my work wages’ll add up to about <acronym title="A little less than 3,000 USD.">300,000</acronym> by the time I get out. D’you think it’ll still be hard?”<br />
<p>“I don’t think you’ll be able to buy a house with 300,000...”<br />
<p>“I could live under a bridge if it was with you, but you’d probably be cold. Plus, you get sick really easily.” Kitagawa threw a glance behind him before nipping at Douno’s neck, then sucking it so hard it almost hurt. A quiver ran through Douno’s back.<br />
<p>“Do you remember our promise?” he said.<br />
<p>Kitagawa tilted his head.<br />
<p>“You know, that this is... only going to be while we’re here.”<br />
<p>“I think―” Kitagawa dropped his gaze. “I’m thinking, once I get out, I’ll have a talk with your girlfriend. For her, she might be able to be with someone other than you. But for me, it has to be you. It just has to be.”<br />
<p>“And what happens to my feelings?” Douno asked.<br />
<p>Kitagawa glanced up at him from under his eyebrows.<br />
<p>“But you love me, too.”<br />
<p>Douno widened his eyes at the statement.<br />
<p>“You wouldn’t be so kind to me if you didn’t love me.” Kitagawa licked Douno’s cheek and nudged it with the tip of his nose, as a dog would express affectionate familiarity.<br />
<p>Suddenly, a siren went off. Everyone, taken by surprise, broke into a buzz. Kumon pretended he was standing at the toilet and peered into the hallway. He told them no one had entered or left this floor. It looked like there was a dispute on some other floor or wing.<br />
<p>Douno was just thinking of how unnerving the sirens were, when Kitagawa grabbed him by the right hand.<br />
<p>“What?”<br />
<p>Without even answering, Kitagawa squeezed Douno into a narrow space between two futons folded up against the wall. Without a moment’s pause, he plunged into a kiss, then yanked down the bottom of Douno’s uniform, underwear and all.<br />
<p>“Hey―stop―”<br />
<p>Douno’s resistance was swallowed up in a kiss. The man’s hands slid underneath his shirt and pinched his nipples so hard they hurt.<br />
<p>“The guards don’t come around for a good while when there’s a commotion,” Kitagawa muttered at his ear, then hoisted Douno, who was pushed up against the wall, onto his lap. He pushed his erect member up against Douno’s, and moved up and down in a fierce rhythm. <i>Everyone’s watching</i>―the thought made Douno struggle fiercely, but no matter how much he did, Kitagawa refused to stop. Douno was forced to ejaculate under the glare of the fluorescent lights.<br />
<p>As he sat still in shock, Kitagawa kissed him while he slid his fingers, wet with their semen, to the spot deep between his legs beyond his scrotum. Of all the times Kitagawa had fondled his genitals, he had never touched that area.<br />
<p>The man’s fingertips teased his anus, and entered it slightly. Douno kicked both his feet in protest.<br />
<p>“Stop―stop it!”<br />
<p>“It doesn’t hurt with fingers, does it?”<br />
<p>“It―it feels gross―”<br />
<p>Kitagawa erased all inconvenient pleas with kisses, and had his way with Douno’s body. With two fingers, he gently coaxed Douno’s anus. It felt disgusting and he was sure of it, yet when one of those fingers pressed a tingling spot inside him, he found himself erect again. <i>Everyone’s watching.</i> Douno closed his eyes in humiliation.<br />
<p>The man’s fondling fingers withdrew from inside him, and the moment he thought it was over, next he felt a shock of dull pain in his lower half. Douno’s whole body shook as he realized that he was being penetrated.<br />
<p>“No―stop it―!”<br />
<p>Even though he tried to shove Kitagawa away, the force drawing him closer was stronger.<br />
<p>“It―it hurts,” he cried in pain, and Kitagawa kissed him in answer. While they kissed, he jerked Douno’s hips in a steady rhythm. <i>He’s horrible</i>, Douno thought. They lived together and bathed together, and were used to seeing each other naked. But sex was different. This was public rape.<br />
<p>Kitagawa shuddered, still holding Douno in his arms. Some moments later, he finally pulled out. Kitagawa gave Douno a long kiss. Then, with a tissue, he gently and thoroughly wiped away the mixture of semen and blood that dripped from Douno’s lower region.<br />
<p>Kakizaki could be seen scrambling into the toilets. Kitagawa rearranged Douno’s clothes, and he was taken back to his seat at the table as if nothing had happened. The whole time, Douno had no idea what to say.<br />
<p>He had been ravaged but a few metres away from everyone, in plain view, yet he was not even allowed to run or hide. Douno was overcome with such embarrassment, humiliation, and shame that he placed both hands on the table and put his head down on top. His lower region ached.<br />
<p>“Did it hurt?” the man asked, nestled up against his back. Douno had no spirit to answer. “But they say it’ll stop hurting once you get used to it.”<br />
<p>Tears spilled from his eyes. His shoulders trembled, and he knew not whether he was angry or embarrassed.<br />
<p>“Takafumi?”<br />
<p>“Kitagawa.” Shiba spoke up from his silence. “You didn’t have to do that just now. Think about how poor Douno would feel.”<br />
<p>“Huh?”<br />
<p>“I can understand doing it at night, or when no one’s looking. Imagine being forced to spread your legs while everyone’s watching. It’s embarrassing.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa fell silent. Douno still had his head down on the table. The man brought his lips up to his ear.<br />
<p>“I love you,” he murmured.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Douno curled up in his futon the moment rest period was called. He got up twice, however, to go the toilet. He had a strange case of something like diarrhoea, and he felt a burning pain in his anus every time he squatted. When he walked, the pain made him bend forward, and it was unbearable for him to be seen in public like this.<br />
<p>Kitagawa repeatedly said “I love you” as if it were an excuse, but Douno ignored him by lying on his stomach and pretending he was asleep. When the room grew dark at lights-out, Kitagawa immediately climbed into Douno’s futon. When Douno struggled and tried to kick him out, Kitagawa kissed him and held him tight.<br />
<p>No matter how many times the man whispered “I love you” in his ear, Douno did not respond to his kisses. Once Kitagawa sensed that Douno was in a bad mood, he reluctantly returned to his own futon. Next, he attempted to hold hands, but Douno did not even allow that.<br />
<p>In the middle of the night, Douno woke to a strange sensation between his legs. He felt like someone was fondling his penis. When felt between his legs with his hand, he was met with the gritty sensation of hair. He felt a flash of anger at Kitagawa for sneaking around with his body, even after he had refused so vehemently. No matter how forcibly he tried to shove the man’s had away, it showed no signs of letting up.<br />
<p>“Kei! Kei, stop it!” he scolded in a whisper. But the man did not listen.<br />
<p>“Mr. Douno.”<br />
<p>The voice from below was not Kitagawa’s. The realization made Douno freeze in shock.<br />
<p>“Just head, Mr. Douno. I won’t ask for your ass. Just a little bit, please.”<br />
<p>“No―stop! Stop it!” As soon as he realized it was not Kitagawa, Douno felt a wave of disgust as goosebumps rose on his skin.<br />
<p>“Get the hell off me!”<br />
<p>“Just a little bit, please.”<br />
<p>They repeated this attack-and-defence, until suddenly the futon was thrown aside. Kakizaki snapped his head up from where he had pulled down Douno’s pyjama bottoms and been sucking at his crotch.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was standing over them, feet apart, glaring at Kakizaki with glinting eyes. He ruthlessly kicked the man off of Douno. Kakizaki gave a short cry of pain and curled up. Kitagawa grabbed him by the front of his pyjamas, yanked him off the floor, and delivered a punch to his face. Kakizaki went flying all the way to Kumon’s futon across, waking the man up.<br />
<p>“Wh―what the hell?”<br />
<p>Kakizaki gave a shrill cry of fear and hid behind Kumon. Kitagawa dragged him back out, and delivered two more hard cracks to his face.<br />
<p>“B―bro, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”<br />
<p>Kitagawa ignored the man’s excuses and continued to hit him. Then, he grabbed the man’s head and smashed it against the wall. Kakizaki slid to the floor. Kitagawa still tried to lunge at him, but Shiba grabbed him by the armpits from behind.<br />
<p>“Calm down, Kitagawa!”<br />
<p>Kakizaki dashed into the toilet while Shiba was restraining Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“Hey! What the hell is going on here?” the night guard shouted from outside. Kitagawa, by now even deaf to the guard, wrestled free from Shiba and was at the toilet stall in a flash. He kicked the door down and burst inside.<br />
<p>“Aghhhhh! Aghhhh!”<br />
<p>Kakizaki’s bloodcurdling screams echoed. The sirens blared, and a clamour of footsteps approached. The door opened, and four officers burst in to seize the two men and drag them out of the washroom.<br />
<p>Kakizaki’s face was bloodied, and he was foaming at the mouth. Kitagawa struggled violently. Even with four guards restraining his arms and legs, he thrashed fiercely like a shrimp. One of the guards aimed a kick at the struggling man’s ribs. There was a resounding crack, and Kitagawa’s movements stopped for a moment.<br />
<p>“P―Please, don’t hurt him!” Douno begged, running up to them.<br />
<p>“Don’t move from the wall!” the guard snapped, slapping him across the face. Kitagawa, on seeing this, began to resist even more aggressively. The guards teamed up to assail him with punches and kicks.<br />
<p>Kitagawa went limp, and was dragged out of the cell like a sack of potatoes. Douno thought he heard someone call his name, and shook free of the night guard’s restraining grasp to burst out of the cell.<br />
<p>“Takafumi, Takafumi,” a voice desperately cried as it grew smaller and smaller into the distance. Douno was shoved violently back into his cell by the night guard.<br />
<p>Kakizaki was taken to the infirmary, and Kitagawa was taken to the interrogation room, leaving three members remaining in the cell. They tidied the room at the guard’s orders, then were commanded to go back to sleep.<br />
<p>Even after he had settled back into his futon, Douno could not sleep. He was worried about Kakizaki’s wounds, but more than that, he was beside himself with worry at the thought of the kind of cruelty Kitagawa might be going through. He prayed desperately that they had not imprisoned Kitagawa in a secure cell like they had done to him.<br />
<p>Three days passed after the incident, then four―but neither Kitagawa nor Kakizaki showed signs of returning. On the fourth day, Kakizaki’s belongings were removed entirely. Douno was shaken―perhaps the man had died? However, Shiba told him he had only been moved to a different cell, which Douno was relieved to hear.<br />
<p>Amidst all of that, a new inmate moved into their cell. He was a forty-year old man caught for possession of stimulant drugs. He was slightly overweight, and his nose always had an oily sheen like the wings of a cockroach.<br />
<p>Three weeks passed without a sign of Kitagawa’s return. Douno was down to less than a week until his release. He had figured Kitagawa would return while he was still here, but that seemed like an unlikely possibility now. He heard from inmates in other cells about someone who had gotten punished for fighting with a cellmate. That man had gotten one month in light solitary confinement.<br />
<p>Douno thought of asking Shiba to pass along his parent’s home address to Kitagawa after he came out of solitary. There was also the option of writing it on one of Kitagawa’s belongings in the cell, but if it was caught in an inspection, it would put Kitagawa in a bad position. In comparison, asking Shiba to pass it on orally was a safer and more reliable method, but one had to choose his messenger carefully. There was always the possibility of his address being used for unsavoury purposes, like what had happened with Mitsuhashi.<br />
<p>During exercise period, Douno took Shiba aside from the softball game he had been watching, and led him to a remote corner of the grounds. There, he tentatively asked if Shiba would tell Kitagawa his address once he came out.<br />
<p>Shiba appeared to be turning it over in his mind.<br />
<p>“I’m fine with that, but are you, Douno?”<br />
<p>“Fine, as in―?”<br />
<p>“I’m asking you whether you’re willing to have that kind of relationship with Kitagawa even after you get out of prison.”<br />
<p>It was a frank question. Douno looked at his feet.<br />
<p>“Personally, I think it’s better if you just keep it inside the walls as just a prison thing. I’m not saying Kitagawa’s a bad person. I’m just saying that people’ll appear different out there as opposed to in here. Out there in your world of choices, are you still going to be able to choose him?”<br />
<p>Douno hesitated. Until now, he had been so occupied about telling Kitagawa that he had never considered the option of not telling.<br />
<p>“If you’re not prepared to be with him for the rest of your life, just call it quits. Same goes for the friends-only thing. Kitagawa isn’t the kind of guy who can draw the line like that.”<br />
<p>Shiba went away, leaving Douno alone to think by himself. He thought about whether he really loved Kitagawa. At first he had thought Kitagawa was an unfeeling man. Then, he saw him as a kind, but also pitiful, person. He wanted to be nice to the man, but were there any romantic feelings attached? Perhaps he had only pitied Kitagawa’s unhappy past, and been swept up by their extraordinary circumstances.<br />
<p>Where did these feelings come from―his longing to see Kitagawa’s face, his desire not to make this a permanent goodbye? No matter how much he thought about it, no clear answer took form inside him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>On the day before his release, Douno was transferred to another cell. On the day prior to that, Shiba had come up to him after dinner.<br />
<p>“Now you’re really a step away from getting out, huh,” he had said. Then, they had exchanged some small talk.<br />
<p><i>If you’re still planning to tell Kitagawa your address</i>―perhaps that was what Shiba had meant when he approached him. Douno did not give him an address. But at the same time, that did not mean he had decided to end his relationship with Kitagawa altogether.<br />
<p>Douno was released on June 5. As he walked down the long, silent hallway, he thought he heard Kitagawa’s voice. He turned around. There was not a shadow of anyone there.<br />
<p>His parents and sister had come to pick him up outside the walls. Douno wept in spite of himself at seeing the three. He went to parents’ house in the country, tasted his mother’s cooking for the first time in a long time, and later nodded off into a relaxing slumber. He woke up once in the middle of the night. He had been sleeping with his futon over his face. He hastily pulled it down below his chin, then realized he was not in prison anymore. He smiled wryly.<br />
<p>Less than a month after his release, Douno began working as an accountant for a food product company. Immediately after his release, he had registered in a support group for people falsely accused of groping, and he had gotten this job through an introduction by a group member.<br />
<p>Along with the start of his new-found job, Douno moved out of his parents’ house and into an apartment. He worked while participating actively as a member of the support group.<br />
<p>In his third month of work, he was confessed to by a woman at his workplace seven years his junior. Kitagawa crossed his mind for an instant, but Douno could not deny that he found the small, delicate girl attractive.<br />
<p>He was never quite able to refuse her completely, and they began dating. Douno’s memories of prison never left him, but they grew faint as each day passed. Nevertheless, he was still traumatized by crowded trains, and he could not bring himself to ride them.<br />
<p>One year passed after Douno was released from prison. Less than a month before Kitagawa was set for his release, Douno’s girlfriend told him that a child was coming. She was two months pregnant. Douno was afraid that her parents might object because of his past sentence―albeit an unjust one―in prison. However, her parents accepted him. Wedding preparations and procedures were decided in a flurry, and through the hurried succession of days came August 15, the day of Kitagawa’s release.<br />
<p>Douno had promised nothing, but when he thought of how the man probably had no one to greet him, he was overcome with pity. When he imagined the man standing forlornly by himself outside the penitentiary, it grew almost unbearable. Douno wanted to be the one person, at least, who would be there to greet Kitagawa. He got ready to go out. But as he sat on the edge of his bed, he found it hard to stand up again. Kitagawa would be released at 10 o’clock at the earliest. It would take two and a half hours to get there by bullet train, which meant Douno had to be on the 7 o’clock train. But his legs refused to move.<br />
<p>Time passed even as he simply sat there. Douno wanted to see him, wanted to see his face―but at the same time, he was afraid of meeting him in person.<br />
<p>He was no longer living in the future that Kitagawa wanted. The two of them would not be able to live together. Would Kitagawa still be happy to be greeted by him?<br />
<p><i>Why couldn’t we be friends? We could have been together for longer that way. I know it would have lasted longer than a romantic relationship.</i><br />
<p>In the end, even after the sun had set, Douno did not get up from the edge of the bed. His chest burned as tears unwittingly sprang to his eyes, but he could find no words to explain why he was crying.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>-- END OF SECTION --</center><br />
Read the next part, "The Fragile Swindler" <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/06/narise-konohara-in-box-fragile-swindler.html">PART 1</a>.<br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.ca/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-5093413640896830062013-05-05T23:03:00.001-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.416-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 4This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/04/novel-in-box-in-box-pt-3.html">PART 3</a>.<br />
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<br />
<p>There were many ways you could feel another’s affection: in his facial expressions, words, attitude, and the way he favoured you over everyone else. But if all of them were direct to you at once? This was precisely Douno’s current predicament.<br />
<p>Kitagawa became inseparable from Douno, and his attachment was enough to raise the eyebrows of those around him. He never left Douno’s side for a moment, through lunch break, and after dinner until lights-out. They had been close enough before because they sat beside each other; now, Kitagawa was practically nestled up to him.<br />
<p>“What’re you reading?” he would peek over and ask, whenever Douno was reading a book. At first Kitagawa would be content to read with him, but when he grew bored, he would pester Douno with suggestions to play <i>go</i> or <i>shogi</i> instead. Douno was unskilled at both, but since Kitagawa insisted, he played one or two games. When he tried to wrap up, Kitagawa would stubbornly protest that he wanted to keep playing. When Douno refused, he pouted and sulked, but still did not leave Douno’s side.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“Let’s hold hands,” he said one night, moments after lights-out.<br />
<p>“Holds hands?”<br />
<p>“Friends hold hands, right?”<br />
<p><i>We’re not children</i>, Douno thought in exasperation, but since he had no especial reason to refuse, he held the man’s hand. Kitagawa clasped and re-clasped Douno’s hand over and over. It bothered him a little, but not for long; before he knew it, he fell fast asleep. When he woke in the morning, they were still holding hands. Not only that, their clasped hands had slid out of their futons into plain view. Douno felt a jab of fear as he realized they could have been caught by the guard and given a warning.<br />
<p>Kitagawa woke up when Douno moved his hand. He blinked sleepily, then grinned at him. He chuckled softly as he hid his face behind the futon, then peeped out again.<br />
<p>“What are you doing?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa ducked underneath his futon without answering. A guard passed them in the hallway, but did not warn Kitagawa for sleeping with the futon over his head. The guard was apparently kinder and more lenient than most.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was in high spirits for the rest of the day. Not a shadow of distant aloofness was to be found on his face; he talked animatedly and laughed often. After their meal, Kitagawa sniffed at Douno’s clothes as a dog would do. Douno wondered if he still smelled after his bath.<br />
<p>“Do I smell?” he asked.<br />
<p>Kitagawa shook his head. “You smell good.”<br />
<p>“Is it the soap, maybe?”<br />
<p>“Not that.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa pressed his nose against Douno’s neck to breathe in his scent, then stuck out his tongue and licked Douno’s neck. Douno flinched. Then, for some reason, Kitagawa began to playfully bite Douno’s head.<br />
<p>“Wh―What’re you doing?” Douno stammered, trying to extract himself from the man’s grasp, but Kitagawa latched onto him from behind and prevented his escape. Kumon guffawed as he watched them.<br />
<p>“What, Kitagawa, planning on becoming a cannibal?”<br />
<p>“Of course not. I would never eat him,” Kitagawa replied in all seriousness. “Then Douno would disappear.”<br />
<p>“There you have the truth of it,” Shiba said solemnly.<br />
<p>Kakizaki cackled before turning to Kumon. “Uh, what does he mean by ‘the truth of it’?” he asked stupidly. Kumon turned up the corners of his mouth in a sly grin.<br />
<p>“It’s when a man and a woman fuck each other and have babies,” he said bluntly, before emitting a short vulgar laugh.<br />
<p>Kitagawa stopped chewing on Douno’s head. Still holding him from behind, he began to rock back and forth.<br />
<p>“S―Stop fooling around, or we’ll get in trouble by the guard,” Douno protested, but Kitagawa refused to listen. After some moments, the voice behind him spoke.<br />
<p>“I’m hard.”<br />
<p>Douno froze.<br />
<p>“That’s what you get for thrusting,” Kumon told him. “Now your dick is in the mood. Go take five in the toilet.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa fetched a tissue form his shelf before entering the washroom. Douno knew it was only a natural biological reaction; more than once, he had also done it himself in his futon. But, Douno thought indignantly, did the man <i>have</i> to choose to get an erection behind him, out of all places?<br />
<p>Kakizaki sidled up beside him while Kitagawa was in the toilet. They were still not allowed to leave their designated places after dinner until rest period, but Kakizaki appeared not to regard that rule.<br />
<p>“So, Mr. Douno, are you and bro Kitagawa, like, together?” he whispered.<br />
<p>“Together, as in―?”<br />
<p>“You know, do you guys have butt sex?”<br />
<p>“<i>What?</i>”<br />
<p>Shiba, in an attempt to let it get no further, interfered by thumping a hand on Kakizaki’s head.<br />
<p>“Do you think they could, in a group cell?” he said with some exasperation. “Kitagawa’s just horsing around with Douno, that’s all.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but, I was just thinking if that’s true, I’d like to join in, too.”<br />
<p>Kumon made a disgusted sound. “Go stick a pair of chopsticks up your ass if it’s so damn lonely,” he spat.<br />
<p>Kakizaki wrinkled his nose in an offended way.<br />
<p>“I only play the top, Mr. Kumon. You’re only able to make fun of homos because you don’t know what butt sex can be like. It’s really tight down there, you know. It’s <i>awesome</i>.”<br />
<p>Shiba closed his book. “No matter how tight it is, I don’t think I could stand to see the balls hanging there,” he commented.<br />
<p>“Y-Yeah, but―”<br />
<p>“Enough about asses already!” Kumon snapped angrily, his brow creasing in discontent. “If you like ass so much, you can go into solitary and jack off all you want. I know, why don’t I let the guard know about it? It’s the least I could do,” he said nastily.<br />
<p>Kakizaki shook his head. “Noooo, not solitary,” he whined, “it gets lonely in there.”<br />
<p>They were still talking when Kitagawa came out of the toilets. He stood behind Kakizaki with an expression of displeasure on his face.<br />
<p>“That’s my spot,” he growled menacingly. Kakizaki hastened back to his place. Having settled back into his rightful spot, Kitagawa turned to Douno. When their eyes met, the man flashed him a grin.<br />
<p>During the daytime, some factory workers were forced to leave by the guard. About a week ago, their factory guard had changed from a middle-aged senior officer to a young man in his late twenties. Officers were switched around often, but the young officer this time was needlessly intimidating and doled out punishment slips at the smallest disturbances. As a result, his reputation among the inmates was less than favourable.<br />
<p>That day, two inmates had gotten into an argument during work. The disagreement was to do with their jobs, but the officer had pressed the emergency alarm without even seeking an explanation. The two inmates were forcibly removed from the factory.<br />
<p>The officer made a show of looking disgusted at their lowly conduct, then dismissed the rest of the inmates with a warning that they were to work quietly if they didn’t want to be met with the same punishment. Then, he yanked out an unruly nose hair that was protruding from his nostril.<br />
<p>Douno was furious. Who did this man think he was? <i>Just because you’re an officer, it doesn’t mean you’re above everything</i>, he thought angrily. A surge of wrath boiled inside him, which made him almost stand up to protest. But the word “punishment” crossed his mind, and he was unable to get out of his seat. This made him feel even more cowardly and depressed his spirits further.<br />
<p>There was an exercise period that day as well. Outside in the dead of winter, under a cloudy sky and the weak rays of the sun, one had to keep moving constantly or risk freezing one’s fingertips off. Douno took a leisurely walk around the circumference of the grounds, and Kitagawa accompanied closely beside him. When Douno stopped, he stopped; when Douno sat down, so did he. Kitagawa never left his side, whether it was during exercise or mealtimes. Rumours among the inmates at the factory that they were “together” had by now also reached Douno’s ears.<br />
<p>It was not pleasant to be thought of as a homosexual by those around him, and Douno was irritated every time he was teased about it. But he never thought of pushing Kitagawa away. He was hesitant to spite the man who looked at him with a childish, even a dog-like affection. Douno was also unable to deny the pity he felt towards Kitagawa’s unfortunate upbringing. <br />
<p>“That guard gets to me,” Douno said forcefully. “Giving them a reprimand for something as small as that. He doesn’t understand how much impact a single punishment can have on us inmates.”<br />
<p>Douno took advantage of their seclusion to vent his frustrations to Kitagawa. One had to choose his listeners carefully here, even when airing complaints. If you were overheard making unfavourable remarks by an inmate who was after brownie points, the inmate would snitch to the guard, who would then pick you out as a target for relentless bullying. Douno had heard before of a man who had racked up penalty slips for every little thing he did wrong. He was ultimately sent into solitary, and began to suffer from depression because of persistent bullying. There was another inmate who, upon being released on parole, promptly murdered the guard in charge and was thrown back in prison again. Douno could now understand how the man must have felt.<br />
<p>“Hey, can I lie down on your lap?”<br />
<p>The heat of his anger had risen to his head that for a moment, Douno could not comprehend what was said to him.<br />
<p>“Use your lap as a pillow, I mean.”<br />
<p>Granted, back in their group cell, their seats were designated and they were not free to lie down during free time. <i>But that doesn’t mean you have to do this where everyone can see</i>, Douno thought briefly.<br />
<p>Besides, he had been in the middle of speaking. He was not expecting an answer since he was simply complaining, but he wished Kitagawa would at least attempt to show him that he was listening.<br />
<p>“Yeah, but you know...” Douno began.<br />
<p>“Give me your lap.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa refused to abandon his persistent attachment to Douno’s lap. In the end, Douno lost the war of wills and surrendered. <i>Here I go, feeding rumours again</i>, he thought. Kitagawa laid his head down on Douno’s lap with his face turned towards Douno’s torso.<br />
<p>Douno was concerned that the guard would give them a warning, but the guard was currently looking away from them, busy watching the softball game.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s head, which had so far been lying still in Douno’s lap, shifted over. Kitagawa had pressed his nose into Douno’s crotch and begun to sniff at something. Douno felt squirmish.<br />
<p>“H-Hey, stop that.”<br />
<p>“It smells like you.”<br />
<p>“Knock it off.” Douno grabbed the man’s head with both hands and pushed it away from his crotch. Kitagawa clicked his tongue irritably and gave up trying to press his face between Douno’s legs, but steadfastly refused to move off his lap.<br />
<p>In the end, Kitagawa had resorted to clinging to Douno’s legs to avoid being pushed off. Douno chuckled at the man’s stubbornness.<br />
<p>“What was your first name again?” he asked nonchalantly.<br />
<p>There was a short pause.<br />
<p>“Kei,” Kitagawa answered.<br />
<p>“How do you write it?”<br />
<p>“<acronym title="“Kei” is written 圭 in Chinese characters. The word for soil, dirt, or earth is 土.">Two earths on top of each other</acronym>. ―What about your name?”<br />
<p>“<acronym title="崇文 in Chinese characters">Takafumi</acronym>.”<br />
<p>“How do you write it?”<br />
<p>“<acronym title="Douno describes “taka” (崇) as a combination of mountain (山) and religion (宗); “fumi” (文) can mean epistle, sentence, script, or writing.">’Mountain’ with ‘religion’ underneath for ‘taka’, and ‘script’ for ‘fumi’.</acronym>”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm.”<br />
<p>“Kei is a cute name,” Douno said warmly. Kitagawa glanced up at him.<br />
<p>“It’s like it belongs to someone else.”<br />
<p>“Why would you say that?”<br />
<p>“I’ve never been called by it before.”<br />
<p>Douno was wracked with pity to imagine what kind of environment the man had grown up in for him never to be called by his name.<br />
<p>“What a waste,” he said softly.<br />
<p>Kitagawa grinned. “It’s almost like you gave me that name.”<br />
<p>“Shall I call you Kei from now on, then?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa nodded enthusiastically in his lap. “Can I call you Takafumi?”<br />
<p>“Sure.”<br />
<p>“Takafumi, Takafumi,” Kitagawa repeated over and over, for no reason. It was endearing to watch, and Douno reached out to gently stroke the man’s shaven head. Kitagawa half-closed his eyes blissfully like a cat. The thought crossed Douno’s mind again: how could a man with such a young boy’s heart kill another person? The longer they spent their days together, the more Douno could tell that Kitagawa was calm by nature, and was not a hot-tempered person. He definitely did not seem the type to murder a person out of careful calculation, or even in the an act of passion.<br />
<p>Perhaps it was bad to ask; but Douno’s desire to know burgeoned, and he surrendered to his curiosity and posed the question vaguely.<br />
<p>“How did you get into jail?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa tilted his head questioningly. “You don’t know?”<br />
<p>“I’ve heard rumours, but...”<br />
<p><i>So you do know. End of story</i>, Kitagawa seemed to say as he closed his eyes. <br />
<p>“I’ve heard,” Douno insisted, “but I can’t... well, I just can’t believe that you would kill someone.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa opened his eyes a crack. Douno could feel the man looking at him steadily. Maybe he had stepped into touchy territory―Douno hastily tacked some words to the end of his sentence.<br />
<p>“If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I shouldn’t have tried to force it out of you. I’m sorry.” Douno took a breath and gave a short sigh. Their conversation was over―he was convinced that it was.<br />
<p>“My mom came to me on a rainy day,” Kitagawa murmured suddenly. “She came to my dorm at the construction site. I hadn’t seen her in ten years. I didn’t know who the middle-aged woman in front of me was until she told me she was my mother. She said we should catch up over a meal, so we went out. She treated me to a meatloaf set at the diner. After that, she asked me to lend her money because she said she was in a rough spot, so I did.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa yawned.<br />
<p>“Then she came over and over again to borrow money from me. She came one day in the winter, when it was raining, and when I told her I had no more money, she took my hand and told me to come with her. I followed her into a warehouse, in the back, where some guy was lying on the floor. She gave me a knife wrapped in a handkerchief and said, ‘If you don’t kill this man, I’ll be killed. So kill him.’ So I stabbed him, like she said.”<br />
<p><i>You know</i>, Kitagawa murmured as he looked up at Douno.<br />
<p>“You know people don’t say anything when they die? They don’t even scream. I didn’t know how much I had to stab him for him to die, or how I could tell if he was dead.”<br />
<p>Douno pressed his right hand to his forehead. “And you told this to the police, didn’t you?”<br />
<p>“Yeah, I told them that I killed him.”<br />
<p>“No, I mean that your mother told you to kill him.”<br />
<p>“I didn’t. My mom told me to say that <i>I</i> did it, so I did.”<br />
<p>A flurry of incredulity came and went in Douno’s heart.<br />
<p>“Why didn’t you tell the truth?” he demanded. “You say you ‘killed him’, but how do you know he wasn’t already dead? How do you know you weren’t just used as a scapegoat?”<br />
<p>“I dunno,” Kitagawa answered. Douno was seized by anger.<br />
<p>“Why didn’t you think of proving your innocence? If he was really already dead, you would have only damaged a lifeless body. You might’ve been charged, but you wouldn’t have had to stay in prison for so many years!”<br />
<p>“I don’t care whether he was dead or not,” said Kitagawa flatly. “I’d never even met him before. Besides, you get more cred in prison if you’re serving for murder, and no one messes with you.”<br />
<p>Douno was stunned. He could not understand Kitagawa’s mind. No matter if his own mother had begged him; how could he kill another man? How could he think it was alright? Where was this man’s moral uprightness?<br />
<p>“Why do you look like that?” Kitagawa knitted his brow. “You wanted to hear it, Takafumi. You asked me why I killed him.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but...”<br />
<p>“I told you because it was you. I didn’t tell the officer, the lawyer, or any other inmates. My mom told me not to tell anyone, you know.”<br />
<p>Douno did not know how to answer him.<br />
<p>“If you haven’t told anyone until now, why did you tell me?”<br />
<p>“Because you wanted to know,” Kitagawa repeated, then pouted. “Because I like you more than my mom. What’s wrong with favouring the one that I think is better?”<br />
<p>“Favour? What’s that supposed to mean?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa lapsed into a bewildered silence. <br />
<p>“Favouring is favouring, what else?” he said finally.<br />
<p>Douno tried to force Kitagawa’s head off his lap, but the man clung to him in protest. No matter what Douno did, he was unable to pry Kitagawa off. If he made a fuss, he felt like the guard would come running, so Douno gave up trying to extricate himself from Kitagawa’s hold.<br />
<p>“I want to be with you more than my mom, Takafumi. Even if we’re together, even if I touch you, I feel warm.”<br />
<p>Douno wondered if this man had worshipped his mother―even the kind of mother who transferred her crimes to her own son―and his heart ached at how barren Kitagawa’s history of human relationships must have been.<br />
<p>“Once you get out of here, get a proper job, and become able to cherish someone, you’ll find someone a lot better than me.”<br />
<p>“I’ll be an old geezer by the time I get around to that.”<br />
<p>Douno tilted his head in lieu of a question.<br />
<p>“I’m turning thirty next year. You were the first person I met like this, Takafumi. So if I go from there, the next person’ll come in twenty-nine years, right? I’ll be close to sixty. A geezer. I think I’d rather hold on to you.”<br />
<p>Despite Douno having told him earlier not to, Kitagawa pressed his face into his crotch.<br />
<p>“I wanna have sex,” he muttered.<br />
<p>Douno felt his heart jump.<br />
<p>“All this time, I’ve never looked at a guy’s ass and wanted to do him. But I want to with you, Takafumi. Have I turned into a homo?” Kitagawa said thoughtfully. “I wonder if people usually turn homo so quickly.”<br />
<p>“A-Are you sure you’re not misunderstanding?” Douno stammered.<br />
<p>“I am <i>not</i>,” Kitagawa insisted. “Even now, I want to undo your fly, drag your dick out and try licking it. I feel like your jizz would smell nice too, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>“Stop it, Kitagawa!” Douno said sharply.<br />
<p>“Aren’t you gonna call me Kei? Come on, call me Kei. You named me.”<br />
<p>Douno trembled violently. Something akin to both rage and humiliation, yet not quite either of them, coursed through his body.<br />
<p>“Don’t be mad.”<br />
<p>“Wh―How could I not be?” he snapped.<br />
<p>“Why’re you mad? I only said the truth.” Kitagawa finally lifted his head. His absence left a cold spot on Douno’s lap.<br />
<p>“You know, I thought about it,” Kitagawa said. “I thought and I thought, and I really do want to have sex with you. I thought about why it was sex, and I realized something.”<br />
<p>Douno looked up.<br />
<p>“I’m in love with you, Takafumi. That’s why I want to have sex with you.”<br />
<p>“You’re just slapping an excuse onto your lust,” Douno spat.<br />
<p>“Married couples have sex because they love each other, right? It’s the same thing. I love you, Takafumi, and that’s why I wanna have sex with you.”<br />
<p>“No!” Douno snarled, then looked hard at the ground.<br />
<p>“Why’re you saying I’m wrong? I’m saying I love you,” the voice whispered at his ear.<br />
<p>Douno did not know how to answer him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p><i>If this was outside of the fence</i>―Douno thought. Suppose his male friend had confessed to him. If Douno didn’t feel the same way, he would put it into words and decline frankly. Then, he would keep a physical distance and spend some time away from him. Douno’s rationale was that this would allow the other person to calm his feelings.<br />
<p>Douno was frank with Kitagawa. “I like you as a friend, but I don’t have any romantic feelings for you whatsoever. So I don’t want to have sex with you,” he stated firmly.<br />
<p>“Then, I’ll make you like me so much that you <i>do</i> want to have sex with me,” Kitagawa had said. He could keep a distance, Douno thought, but in their group cell and at mealtimes, their seats were beside each other. There was no way to keep distance, even if he wanted to.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s level of physical contact grew more and more intimate. One night, Douno woke to a strange sensation on his lips. When he realized that he was being kissed, and that the kisser was Kitagawa, Douno barely managed not to yell, and kicked away the body on top of him instead. There was a large thud, and the night guard came running. Everyone pretended they were asleep, and claimed not to have heard anything. The guard insisted he had heard noise from this room.<br />
<p>“I didn’t hear any sound, sir,” Shiba said. “But if you did, then maybe it was one of the cells further up, or upstairs?” The guard gradually seemed to lose confidence at Shiba’s suggestion, and relented. Once he left, Kumon turned to them.<br />
<p>“Do it quietly, for gods’ sakes. Quietly!” he hissed. Douno knew what “it” referred to, and Kumon’s words were unbearably humiliating.<br />
<p>The next morning, Douno waited for lunch break to scold Kitagawa. When he told Kitagawa that it was against general etiquette to do things like that without the other person’s consent, Kitagawa asked why.<br />
<p>“While I was <i>sleeping</i>? It’s cowardly!” Douno snapped in a small voice, in a corner of the bookshelves.<br />
<p>“It’s better when you’re sleeping, isn’t it? I figured you’d be mad if you were awake.”<br />
<p>“Damn right!”<br />
<p>“But when you’re sleeping, you don’t notice what I do. Since you have no idea that it’s happening, in your head it would be same as it not happening at all.”<br />
<p>“That’s nonsense.”<br />
<p>“I’ve kissed you five times already, but today was the only day you woke up.”<br />
<p>Douno was shocked to know that this was not the first time. Kitagawa looked at him almost challengingly.<br />
<p>“Are you gonna be mad at me for those other five times, too?” he said.<br />
<p>“I’ve had enough of you,” Douno said angrily.<br />
<p>“You can be mad all you want, but your seat is still beside mine.”<br />
<p>Douno was sick of talking to him, but when he tried to leave, Kitagawa grabbed him by the right arm.<br />
<p>“Let go of me,” Douno said shortly, trying to shake his arm free.<br />
<p>“But I love you,” Kitagawa murmured at his ear. Douno’s heart contracted.<br />
<p>“I love you,” Kitagawa repeated. “I love you so much, I want to kiss you even when you’re asleep.” His eyes narrowed. He kept repeating “I love you”, whispering right into Douno’s ear, as if he was fully aware of Douno’s agitation. Douno was annoyed at Kitagawa for the decidedly un-childlike manipulation he was using to make Douno lose his composure.<br />
<p>“Don’t throw words around like toys. You make me sick,” he said scathingly.<br />
<p>“I really love you, Takafumi.”<br />
<p>Douno stared at his feet. Even outside the fence, even as a joke, he had never been told “I love you” so many times in his life―not once.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/05/narise-konohara-in-box-in-box-pt-5.html">PART 5</a>.</center>9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-62721949770630430892013-04-28T22:31:00.000-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.428-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 3This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/04/novel-in-box-in-box-pt-2.html">PART 2</a>.<br />
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<p>Thanks to the pills he was given in the morning, noon, and evening, Douno’s cold passed its worst stage, and he began to recover little by little. By the time the next checkup day came, his condition had improved so much, he felt like he would not need medicine at all. His gratitude towards Kitagawa was more than words could describe, and he was unsure of how to express it.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was a man of few words, and when he did speak, he was often brusque; he also rarely initiated conversations with Douno. But Douno came to feel that perhaps this man had taken a liking to him. For example, when they were served one of the tastier dishes at mealtime, Kitagawa never failed to share his portion with Douno. Douno never asked for it; Kitagawa simply tranferred some onto Douno’s plate when no one was looking. Douno thought perhaps Kitagawa did it to everyone, but it did not seem to be the case. The man was generous and kind, but never asked for anything in return. Douno felt relieved to know that there was someone in his life who would help him out of goodwill when he was ill or troubled. Compared to when he had been unable to trust anyone else, Douno felt very much put at ease.<br />
<p>It was the end of December, their last exercise day of the year. Douno’s lengthy cold had recently gone away at last, and he was reluctant to go out into the cold grounds. But in order to be excused, he was told that he had to write a request slip to the guard in charge and get a medical exam, which seemed like too much trouble.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>Sections 1 and 4 had begun to play softball. Douno’s Section 3 was not playing that day. Douno chose a sunny spot in the field with with not much wind, did some light stretches, then sat down with his back against the wall.<br />
<p>The blue sky was lofty and the wind was nippy. As of late, Douno had taken after his cellmates and made a calendar in his notebook. As each day passed, he coloured in one square. At first, he felt only weariness as he watched his cellmates at the task, but now he understood how they they felt as they filled in each day. As his remaining days grew fewer, his impending release seemed to feel more real by the day. Once he could see the end, he felt a renewed strength to go on.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was walking in his direction. Douno wondered if he was heading towards him. He was. Kitagawa moved upwind of him―whether out of coincidence or consideration, Douno did not know―and quietly sat down.<br />
<p>Thus Kitagawa had come over, but he showed no signs of attempting to start a conversation. In the same way that he watched television, Kitagawa stared blankly at the teams playing softball.<br />
<p>“Too bad there was no game today, huh?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa turned around.<br />
<p>“Not really,” he said in a detached voice.<br />
<p>“But you always look like you’re enjoying yourself. I’m bad at ball games, so I’m envious of you.”<br />
<p>“Softball isn’t really fun. They tell me to play because I’m young, so I do.”<br />
<p>Douno was taken aback by Kitagawa’s short, unfacilitating answer. He had figured all along that Kitagawa played because he enjoyed it.<br />
<p>“If you don’t like to play, why don’t you say so to everyone? I don’t think you have to force yourself.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked at Douno’s face.<br />
<p>“It’s easier just to do what I’m told.”<br />
<p>Yes, perhaps it was easier to get on with life here if one just did as he was told, without protesting.<br />
<p>“But isn’t it stressful for you, doing things against your will?”<br />
<p>“What’s stress?” Kitagawa asked with a straight face. Douno was at a loss for words.<br />
<p>“You know, like when things don’t go the way you want, or when so many bad things happen in a row that you start to feel unstable.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa tilted his head in perplexity.<br />
<p>“You don’t get what I mean?” Douno suddenly wondered how much schooling Kitagawa had received. Even elementary school kids these days knew what stress was.<br />
<p>“Everything is already decided for me, from morning ‘til nighttime. I get three square meals a day. As long as I’m cautious, I won’t get into trouble. I don’t have to think about anything.”<br />
<p>The way Kitagawa spoke almost sounded like he was condoning the lifestyle here. <i>Wait a second</i>, Douno questioned mentally.<br />
<p>“But don’t you get sick of such a restricted life, where everything is rigidly structured? Once you get out, you’ll be free. No one will order you around. You’ll be free to do whatever you like and no one will humiliate you.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa murmured his usual reply. “Everyone says they want to get out of here. I wonder what they hate so much about this place?”<br />
<p><i>I just finished talking about how people hate having their freedom taken away</i>, Douno thought, but the message had apparently not gotten across to Kitagawa at all.<br />
<p>“Hey.” Kitagawa looked up at Douno with his head still on his knees. “Say ‘thank you’.”<br />
<p>Douno wondered what in the world this man was saying. Besides, words of gratitude were not things you forced out of people. Nevertheless, Douno bundled all of the past kindnesses Kitagawa had given him until now, and said, “Thank you.”<br />
<p>“You know, you have so many different ‘thank you’s,” Kitagawa said. “While you’re crying, or laughing, or sometimes looking a little worried.” He kicked up the dirt on the field with his heel. “Do normal people usually say ‘thank you’ so much?”<br />
<p>“Normal people?”<br />
<p>“Shiba said you were a normal guy. But nobody’s ever said ‘thank you’ to me much before.”<br />
<p><i>How old is Kitagawa?</i> Douno thought. He was twenty-eight, if memory served him correctly. He was far into adulthood, yet spoke like a child barely of age. Douno did not know how to answer him.<br />
<p>“It feels good when you say ‘thank you’ to me,” Kitagawa continued. “I want you to say it more. Will you? I promise I’ll do more things to make you happy.”<br />
<p>It was absolute nonsense.<br />
<p>“That’s not right,” Douno said. “You don’t give kindness and consideration to get words in return.”<br />
<p>“I don’t care about the emotional stuff. You just have to say ‘thank you’ to me and it’ll be fine. I put money in the vending machine like I should, don’t I?”<br />
<p>Douno could not hide his astonishment. Did Kitagawa see his own kindness towards Douno as some kind of currency? Douno felt like the kindness bestowed upon him was now a mere systematic action. He was shocked as he realized that Kitagawa’s deeds had actually carried no real sympathy whatsoever.<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked up at the sky and took a breath.<br />
<p>“I have tissues coming at the end of the month. I bought a lot of them with my wages. I’ll give them all to you. So make sure you say ‘thank you’.”<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Douno thought about what kind of man Kitagawa was. It was clear that his way of thinking was more than a little abnormal, but strangely, Douno did not feel compelled to break off his association with him.<br />
<p>Douno even saw a sort of innocence in the man when he thought of how Kitagawa had taken care of him all night with nothing in mind but earning those two small words of thanks. When children first thought of doing a kind deed to someone, perhaps it was something as simple as the desire to be praised or to make someone happy. If Douno regarded Kitagawa’s thought processes as those of a child, he felt like he could get a slightly better grasp of them. The only problem was that Kitagawa was twenty-eight, and well into his adult years.<br />
<p>Douno felt like Kitagawa was not a bad man at heart if it pleased him to receive words of gratitude. Even if Kitagawa had been guilty of killing someone, Douno felt like he would be able to start over if he repented his past crimes. He wanted Kitagawa to stop thinking of human feelings in a mechanical way, and realize that they were in fact warm and tender things.<br />
<p>On lunch break the next day, once they had finished putting away their dishes, Douno stopped rifling through prison’s books and sat down beside Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“Is that interesting?”<br />
<p>“Not really,” replied Kitagawa dully, as he stared absently at the TV.<br />
<p>“Let’s have a chat.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa tilted his head.<br />
<p>“Remember what you said yesterday, how you wanted me to say ‘thank you’? The thing is, I don’t want to say ‘thank you’ automatically like a machine. I want to be friends with you.”<br />
<p>“No,” Kitagawa said without even a pause.<br />
<p>“W-Why not?” Douno stammered.<br />
<p>“Friends are no good.”<br />
<p>“But if we’re friends, we don’t have to have such a benefit-oriented kind of relationship. That way, we can develop a proper kind of connection.”<br />
<p>“Like what kind?”<br />
<p>Douno hesitated.<br />
<p>“Maybe I would be able to help you if you ever got into trouble.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s shoulders trembled as he laughed silently.<br />
<p>“How can <i>you</i> help <i>me</i>? You don’t know anything. You don’t have anything. You’re weak. You even had to ask someone like <i>me</i> to help you.”<br />
<p>Perhaps it was true, but Douno did not want to be told to his face.<br />
<p>“You’re always saying weird things,” Kitagawa continued. “Is that what ‘normal’ is?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Normal is weird, isn’t it?”<br />
<p>When they were eating dinner, Kitagawa tossed the last half of his tangerine―their dessert―onto Douno’s plate. He was thorough enough to transfer Douno’s peels over to his own plate to disguise that he had given his tangerine away.<br />
<p>If their cellmates knew that Kitagawa was sharing his food with Douno, they did not say anything. Some inmates tipped off prison guards secretly about their fellow inmates, so in that sense, Douno felt lucky to have cellmates who did not snitch.<br />
<p>Once their meal was over, they cleared off the table and spent their time until rest period reading or chatting. Douno, while occupied with a book, could feel Kitagawa’s eyes blatantly fixed on him. He knew that the man was waiting for a ‘thank you’ in return for the tangerine, but he did not want to say it.<br />
<p>When Kakizaki began to talk about how he had cheap access to drugs, Kumon pounced on it and listened intently. Shiba responded with an occasional affirmation. Kitagawa was facing Kakizaki’s direction, yet he had the same vacant eyes as when he watched TV.<br />
<p>He looked uninterested in drugs. Was he pretending to listen to the conversation in order to maintain good rapport? Douno had no idea about the man’s intent. He looked up from the magazine he had been reading.<br />
<p>“Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>The man turned around languidly.<br />
<p>“Want to read a book together?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa glanced briefly at Kakizaki, but in the end he leaned over to peer into Douno’s magazine. Though Douno had made the offer to read together, there was nothing about this particular book that he had wanted Kitagawa to read. He had just felt somewhat uncomfortable letting Kitagawa hear the rest of the men talking about drugs.<br />
<p>Douno pointed offhandedly at a photo on the page. It was blazed with the headline “Hot Springs Feature” and went on to introduce the nation’s top twenty best hot spring resorts.<br />
<p>“Wouldn’t you like to go to a hot spring?” Douno said. “With the baths in this place, you have barely any time to soak and relax. An outdoor hot spring would be nice. You could enjoy the scenery while you bathe.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa grunted. “But isn’t a hot spring just a giant bath? Why would you need to go so far away? You could just go to a public bath.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s lack of imagination made Douno hesitate in his next words.<br />
<p>“Yeah, but... I think it’s nice to be able to go far away―well, it can be close by, too―and just go through the whole process of a trip, taking time and effort to plan and do things.”<br />
<p>“I don’t understand.”<br />
<p>Douno could not ask a man to understand what he was not capable of understanding. He decided to change the topic, and flipped the page. It was an interview article with a bestselling author. His eyes were instantly glued to the old house in the background of the author’s photo. It was a commonplace house, in the type of housing complex that had popped up abundantly in times of economic growth. But the house was also almost identical to the house he had grown up in.<br />
<p>“You know him?”<br />
<p>Douno smiled wryly. “I wasn’t looking at him. I was looking at the house.”<br />
<p>“The house?”<br />
<p>“It looks a lot like mine.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa said as he peered at the photo. It was an old, small house, but nevertheless a house he had lived in with his family. When he thought of how it could belong to someone else by the time he was released, and how his parents’ decision was forced upon them all because of him, he felt as if a hand were clenching around his heart.<br />
<p>“What’s it like inside?”<br />
<p>“Inside?”<br />
<p>“What’s it like inside your house?”<br />
<p>“Well, normal.”<br />
<p>“What’s normal like?”<br />
<p>It was difficult to explain in words, so Douno got his notebook out. He had made a calendar on the front page, so he tore out a page from the back instead. There, he drew up a simple floor plan of his house.<br />
<p>Kitagawa, who had previously seemed uninterested in most things, showed a strong intrigue to Douno’s floor plan.<br />
<p>“What’s this?”<br />
<p>“That’s the entrance. Once you go in, you’ll see the hallway, and a set of stairs on the right side. My sister’s room and my room are on the second floor. We have three rooms downstairs: the living room, my parents’ bedroom, and the guest room.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa then asked for the tinier details, like where the windows were located, and how spacious the bathroom was. Douno repeatedly erased and corrected his floor plan until he was left with a perfect blueprint of the Douno family home.<br />
<p>“So, don’t you have any trees in the yard? How about a dog?” Kitagawa continued to ask. Douno ended up even filling in the sketch with the crape-myrtle tree in his yard and the flowerbed that his mother had constructed as a hobby.<br />
<p>Kitagawa gazed intently at the floor plan drawn in Douno’s notebook. He held it at arm’s length, then placed it on the table. Placing his fingertip on the sheet, he went through the front gates, entered the house, and made his way to the living room. There, he traced his finger round and round.<br />
<p>“What are you doing?” Douno asked.<br />
<p>“Running around because it looks really big,” Kitagawa said, in a way a fanciful child would.<br />
<p>“What was your house like?” Douno was piqued with interest, but Kitagawa just tilted his head a little.<br />
<p>“Small, I guess.”<br />
<p>“Draw it out for me.” Douno handed him the pencil. Kitagawa drew a small square on the page.<br />
<p>“This is it?”<br />
<p>“Yeah.”<br />
<p>“It looks pretty cramped.”<br />
<p>“About two <i>tatami</i> mats, I think.”<br />
<p>“But there’s no entrance, toilet, or bathroom.”<br />
<p>“This is the entrance. I didn’t have a toilet or bathroom.”<br />
<p>“What?” Douno replied in disbelief.<br />
<p>“I had a potty instead of a toilet. I had a blanket, too. It was hot and smelly in the summer, and cold in the winter.”<br />
<p>“Were you living alone?”<br />
<p>“I had a mother, but I barely saw her. She threw my food in through the window, but some days she would forget and I wouldn’t have anything to eat.”<br />
<p>Douno swallowed hard.<br />
<p>“And... when was this?”<br />
<p>“I dunno. I was still a kid. I don’t remember anymore.” Kitagawa scribbled out the square box-like room with his pencil. “I went to my aunt’s place afterwards, but at first I couldn’t talk because I’d forgotten how. It was my first time in a long time using my voice.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa began to draw another floor plan on the next page.<br />
<p>“This is my aunt’s place.” The drawing had only an entrance, washroom, and a room in the back.<br />
<p>“Didn’t your aunt’s house have a kitchen or bathroom?”<br />
<p>“It did, but I don’t remember anymore. I was always in the room in the back. I think I was there for less than half a year. One day―I don’t remember when it was―my aunt stopped bringing me food. I got hungry so I stepped out of my room, and the whole house was empty except for me. After that, I went to an orphanage.”<br />
<p>It was a past that would grieve any listener; yet Kitagawa recited it in a calm and regular manner.<br />
<p>“After finishing middle school, I started working. Noodle factories, printing factories. I liked working at construction sites, though. That was fun.”<br />
<p>He drew another picture on the page.<br />
<p>“I used to work for a place called the Nishimoto Group, and I was staying at their dorm before I got into jail.”<br />
<p>The dormitory was rectangular and long in shape. <br />
<p>“Everyone just put their stuff everywhere, and slept wherever they wanted. It was smelly and dirty. Some people had sticky fingers, so if you weren’t careful you could get your money stolen. I always wore a belly-warmer and hid my money there.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa suddenly looked up. “Do you enjoy listening to this kind of stuff?”<br />
<p>“It’s not really about enjoying, it’s just...”<br />
<p>“Draw me the building you used to work at.”<br />
<p>“I don’t think you’d find it very interesting. I worked at city hall.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa said through his nose. He tilted his head slightly, then glanced up at Douno from under his eyebrows. “So what do people go to city hall for?”<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Nights were long in the group cell. Lights-out was at 21:00. When he was unable to sleep, Douno was instead forced to think. When an idea entered his mind, it possessed him entirely and bothered him constantly.<br />
<p>He thought of the police’s appallingly biased investigation; the woman who had called him a molester; Mitsuhashi, who had tricked him; his parents, who had been forced into moving out. All of these thoughts were wreathed in hatred and regret, and made Douno’s spirits sink.<br />
<p>One cold, sleepless night, Douno turned his thoughts away from himself and thought of the prison system. Disciplined group activity. Strict rules. He had half-resigned himself to them since he figured he had no choice but to comply―but what meaning did those rules hold?<br />
<p>They were forced into labour, burdened with restrictions. But that was it. There were probably many people who wanted avoid being caught so they would not be brought here; but how many people truly acknowledged and regretted the crime they had committed? He did not mean to say that this place was absolutely lacking in remorseful, constructive-minded people. That was not what he was trying to say, but....<br />
<p>During exercise or break, sometimes the conversation turned to their criminal histories. Many more considered themselves merely unlucky for being caught, rather than feeling remorseful. Thieves even discussed doing future stints together after their release, destroying the purpose of prison altogether.<br />
<p>Douno wished prisons would look at and treat a little more of inmates’ psychological aspects. After all, there were criminals here whose psychologies were so immature that they were unable to recognize their deeds as crimes.<br />
<p>His feet were cold. Douno gave a small sneeze. Since coming to prison, he felt a renewed sense towards the true frigidity of winter.<br />
<p>“You cold?” A voice spoke from beside him. He could tell Kitagawa was looking his way.<br />
<p>“My feet are, a little bit.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa never spoke of his criminal history. Douno had heard through other people that he was guilty of murder, but he did not know of the events that led up to it. It was dubious whether it was even a good idea to ask.<br />
<p>“Try sticking your feet in my futon.”<br />
<p>“What?”<br />
<p>“Your foot. Gimme your foot.”<br />
<p>Douno did as he was told and quietly slid his right foot into the futon next to his. A pair of hands inside the futon grabbed his ankle and pushed his foot up against something warm.<br />
<p>When he realized that Kitagawa was warming his cold foot with his own belly, Douno felt guilty. He reassured Kitagawa that it wasn’t necessary, but the man did not let go of his foot. Surely Kitagawa was cold himself―but he was enduring it for Douno’s sake, which pained Douno’s heart.<br />
<p>He knew these acts were being done out of a prospect for a reward, but he could not simply dismiss it as just that. Indeed, Kitagawa’s way of thinking was strange, but he was still a kind man. Why had someone as kind as him perpetrated a murder?<br />
<p>Perhaps Kitagawa had not thought deeply about it; perhaps it had been an impulsive act. Douno found it hard to believe that it could be premeditated.<br />
<p>“Your left foot next.”<br />
<p>Douno had pulled his right foot back into his futon, and with a polite “No, I'm fine”, he refused to stick his left foot out. A hand came reaching into his futon this time, grabbing his left ankle firmly and pulling it over to the other man’s futon.<br />
<p>He could feel the warmth slowly spreading in his foot. Douno laughed a little, in spite of himself, at the strange sense of happiness that it brought him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Douno’s desire to do something was almost a natural, logical turn of thought. Kitagawa was always doing things for him, admittedly even things which Douno did not necessarily need him to do. Even so, it was an unshakable fact that Kitagawa was doing these things for Douno’s sake.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was in his ninth year in prison, while Douno had been here for a mere four months. In terms of advice, there was nothing he could give. But when he heard that Kitagawa was being released in just over a year, Douno wondered if he could give the man something that was not done in prison: an education in sensitivity and morals.<br />
<p>Douno felt like Kitagawa’s misdeed was somehow related to his unhappy childhood history. Douno believed Kitagawa’s lack of understanding concerning certain things stemmed directly from his lack of interaction with others and with society. If Douno could teach Kitagawa what he did not know, and enable him to recognize the right from the wrong, he felt Kitagawa could get on with life just fine after getting out of prison. It was only the best for him. Douno felt he could not let Kitagawa while his days away in what was essentially a criminal prep school.<br />
<p>The prison management, from its own point of view, would perhaps protest that interfering with the individual emotions of its inmates was beyond its responsibility. However, it remained a fact that autonomous people were those who possessed strong wills; those who resorted to crime were weaker ones―they were people who were unsure of what to do, or how.<br />
<p>Douno began making a conscious effort to read books with Kitagawa. Since the man had shown interest in the floor plan of his house, Douno mainly chose books related to buildings. The types of books available were limited; they were often stuck with titles such as <i>A Collection of One Hundred Temples</i> or <i>Art Galleries of the World</i>, but Kitagawa expressed a little more interest than he did towards the TV as he leaned over to peer at the book in Douno’s hands.<br />
<p>Perhaps it was due to Douno’s influence, or a spark of interest ignited within him: Kitagawa, a man previously never seen reading, began to borrow books on his own. He began to sketch the buildings from them into his notebook.<br />
<p>In the evenings, Kitagawa seemed impatient for dinner to end. Once it was finished, he would immediately open his notebook and begin drawing. Once he was done, he showed Douno the completed sketches. At first, they were like the clumsy scribbles of a young child. “That’s a nice picture,” Douno would say, more out of politeness than out of real admiration. Recently, however, Kitagawa’s drawing had improved at an astonishing pace, and his skill was enough to leave one awestruck.<br />
<p>“That’s drawn really well,” Douno would say. Kitagawa’s lips would turn up a little. Then, he would draw some more. He drew with such fervent concentration that he took no notice his cellmates speaking to him. He hunched over his sketches intently as if possessed by a demon of illustration.<br />
<p>In the end of January, Kitagawa drew the Sagrada Família over two pages of his notebook, opened in a spread and turned sideways. It was a stunning piece, and even cellmates who had been rather uninterested in Kitagawa’s drawing pursuits now leaned in to have a look.<br />
<p>“It’s amazing,” Douno said enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you had such a talent for drawing.” Kitagawa beamed proudly at his compliment.<br />
<p>“It was a hell of a lot of work, though.” He peered into Douno’s face from below. “Praise me more. Say more things like “that’s amazing” or “that’s well done”. This took me three whole days to draw. Give me three days’ worth of praise.”<br />
<p>Indeed, Kitagawa’s drawing was very impressive; but Douno was slightly bothered by his persistent requests to be praised.<br />
<p>“But it’s not like you drew this just to show me, right? I mean, I agree that your drawing is amazing, but―”<br />
<p>“I <i>did</i> draw it to show you,” Kitagawa said impatiently, as if exasperated that Douno had just realized the fact. “It feels good when you tell me it’s amazing, or that I’m talented. Why else would I draw something that’s such a pain in the ass?”<br />
<p>“That’s not right,” Douno said. “Drawing is what you do for yourself. It’s not for me. You draw for your <i>own</i> sake.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa cocked his head.<br />
<p>“What’re you saying?”<br />
<p>“I’m saying that you should draw for yourself―”<br />
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Society is all about transactions, isn’t it? If I want something, I have to give something in exchange. I want to be praised, so I draw. How’s that wrong?”<br />
<p>“I just wanted to... to give you a sense of initiative...”<br />
<p>“What’s ‘initiative’?”<br />
<p>Douno was at a loss for an answer. Kitagawa slammed his notebook shut irritably. That day, when normally he would have drawn with fervour, Kitagawa did not draw at all. The next day during lunch break, Kitagawa got out of his seat to talk to Kakizaki, when before he would have been beside Douno, reading a book with him. The thought made Douno feel a little lonely.<br />
<p>Evening came, along with rest period before lights-out. Kitagawa still had not talked to Douno. Of course, he had not drawn anything, either. Kitagawa was angry―but Douno, for the life of himself, could not understand what he was angry about. Four days after they stopped talking, Douno was called out by the factory guard in the morning. It was an interview. His father had come to see him.<br />
<p>“You lost weight,” said his father, although he looked like he had lost even more. Douno had no words to say. The grey was more prominent in his father’s hair, and he looked as if he had shrunken a size. His face was perpetually turned downwards, and he had a lost look about him, as if he was uncertain of what to say to his son.<br />
<p>“I’m sure you’ve heard from your mother and Tomoko. We’ve sold the house. It’s been about a month since our move now, but living in the country isn’t so bad. Everyone’s laid-back.”<br />
<p>The more his father emphasized the good points of the country, the more it discomforted Douno, making him feel as if his father was just putting on a brave face.<br />
<p>“And about the man from the police department―the guy hasn’t been found yet.”<br />
<p>“I’m sorry. It’s all my―”<br />
<p>His father shook his head.<br />
<p>“It’s not your fault. Your mother and I weren’t cautious enough. You don’t need to worry.”<br />
<p>Their conversation was intermittent, but his father remained sitting across from him for the entire fifteen-minute allowance before going home. Douno returned to the factory and sat down in front of his sewing machine again. Suddenly, he felt like crying. His parents and sister had done nothing wrong. It was painful to be reminded that their suffering stemmed from his own mistake.<br />
<p>Noon came before he could get very far in his work. Kitagawa sat down beside him and finished his meal in seconds, and stood promptly as the signal to finish eating was given. Until then, Douno had not been thinking of anything in particular; he had only felt helplessly lonely, and could describe it in no other word than loneliness. Before he knew it, he had grabbed the hem of Kitagawa’s factory jacket.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s steely, cruel-looking eyes glanced downwards at Douno.<br />
<p>“Would you... would you be able to stay with me a while?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked over at Kakizaki once, but lowered himself back into his chair. With Kitagawa beside him, Douno let his thoughts rove over a great many things. They were not much different from what he had been thinking of before, but he felt a little more at ease to know that he was not alone. Beside him was someone who would give him help. If something should happen to him, he trusted that this man would be there somehow. This belief created an escape path for his feelings.<br />
<p>A little before lunch break ended, Douno thanked Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“I haven’t done anything,” the man beside him said bluntly.<br />
<p>“You stayed beside me.”<br />
<p>“I said I didn’t do anything.”<br />
<p>“Even if you didn’t do anything, you made me feel better by being beside me. That’s why I said ‘thank you’.”<br />
<p>Creases appeared between Kitagawa’s eyebrows.<br />
<p>“I don’t understand.”<br />
<p>“That’s fine if you don’t.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa remained sitting in his chair, and began to shake his leg in an irritated manner. The expression on his face remained sullen as he questioned Douno.<br />
<p>“So, why?”<br />
<p>Douno wondered what he could say to make Kitagawa understand how he felt.<br />
<p>“Because I was glad to have you beside me.”<br />
<p>“I...” Kitagawa began, then fell silent.<br />
<p>“This isn’t a transaction,” Douno said. “It’s not about getting rewards or something in return. It’s about how I feel.”<br />
<p>The man beside him was silent at Douno’s words.<br />
<p>“But I haven’t done anything.”<br />
<p>“You don’t have to do anything.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa stood up from his seat and left to go to Kakizaki. Douno had done his best to communicate his feelings truly and honestly, and he felt forlorn that he had not been understood.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>There was exercise period the next day. After a light warm-up, Douno took a seat by the fence and absently watched the softball game. At first he had been amazed at how enthusiastically everyone played the game, but later when he found out that people bet on it, Douno was simultaneously exasperated and strangely convinced.<br />
<p>The wind was chilly, but the sun’s rays were warm. As Douno sat with his arms around his knees, he heard the birds chirping above. He was suddenly reminded of the school hike he went on as a child. He smiled wryly at the stark difference between the forest of his childhood and the prison grounds.<br />
<p>A shadow fell over his feet. He looked up to see Kitagawa standing in front of him. His brow was furrowed, and he had a difficult expression on his face. <br />
<p>“What is it?”<br />
<p>Kitagawa averted his eyes. He was clearly avoiding eye contact, yet showed no signs of moving away. He wavered uncertainly in front of Douno, then looked at him head on.<br />
<p>“You give me the creeps.”<br />
<p>A sharp pain stabbed Douno's heart at the direct blow. He had no idea what part of him had made Kitagawa think him “creepy”, but if it bothered him, Douno wished he would have just ignored him and not said anything.<br />
<p>“So?” he answered, with some spite. Suddenly, Kitagawa began to stamp his feet restlessly on the spot.<br />
<p>“So... so, I’m just saying...”<br />
<p>“If you think I’m creepy, you should just stay away from me.”<br />
<p>He could see Kitagawa chewing his lip. The man was mumbling something, but he could not catch the words.<br />
<p>“...I said you’re creepy and that’s what you are.” Douno could finally catch that much. “You say things I can’t understand, no matter how much I think about it. It keeps bothering me, and it creeps me out.”<br />
<p>Douno blinked.<br />
<p>“What is it with you?” Kitagawa demanded. “What is this weird feeling?”<br />
<p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa clenched his fists.<br />
<p>“I’m saying I don’t like it!” he said heatedly.<br />
<p>“Okay, I understand you don’t like it, but <i>what</i> kind of feeling is it?”<br />
<p>Douno thought the man would leave, but contrary to his expectations, Kitagawa sat down about twenty centimetres away from him. He glanced over at Douno from time to time, as if to assess him.<br />
<p>“I feel really small and shrivelled up inside. Why does that happen?”<br />
<p>Douno had a hard time understanding Kitagawa’s abstract answer.<br />
<p>“Are you saying you feel lonely?”<br />
<p>“I dunno.” Kitagawa stared at the ground and uprooted a handful of grass at his feet. “Pat my head,” he mumbled, without looking up. Douno had no idea what the man was thinking, but did as he was told anyway and patted Douno on the head. Despite having asked for it, Kitagawa remained stiff, hugging his knees for the whole time he was being touched.<br />
<p>“I won’t do anything for you, you know.” A pair of glowering eyes looked up at Douno. “I won’t share any of my good dinner with you. I won’t give you medicine if you catch a fever.”<br />
<p>“I’m not expecting anything in return.”<br />
<p>“I <i>said</i> I won’t give you anything! Stop listening to what I say!”<br />
<p>Douno gently drew his hand away from the trembling head.<br />
<p>“Can’t you have a relationship without transactions or rewards?”<br />
<p>A pair of teary eyes looked up at Douno.<br />
<p>“I don’t know what that is.”<br />
<p>“Neither person has to profit. People can get along as long as the feelings are there.”<br />
<p>“That’s weird.”<br />
<p>“I think that’s how it normally is.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s face remained cast down as he sat still. Then, once more, he murmured, “Pat me on the head.” When he did, Kitagawa hugged his knees harder and curled up into a tighter ball.<br />
<p>“What am I supposed to do for you?”<br />
<p>“You don’t have to do anything.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa looked at him.<br />
<p>“You really don’t have to do anything,” Douno reassured him gently.<br />
<p>Kitagawa’s eyes were still fixed on the ground. “Mm-hmm,” he murmured. Someone had swung a large hit and sent the softball flying. The ball made an arc as it glided through the air, and disappeared in the glare of the sun. Kitagawa looked up to follow the ball with his eyes.<br />
<p>He was supposed to be a full-grown adult, yet he had a childishness about him. When their eyes met, Kitagawa hastily looked down again. Douno was almost sure that it was out of sheepishness this time.<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/05/novel-in-box-in-box-pt-4.html">PART 4</a>.</center><br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.ca/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-88777700102650508512013-04-21T23:16:00.001-04:002013-10-20T00:39:57.447-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 2This is a continuation of <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/04/novel-in-box-in-box-pt-1.html">PART 1</a>.<br />
<br />
<p>Douno was intent on finding the man to whom his parents had paid a staggering three million yen. That man had clawed the money from them at a time when they were already suffering so much because of Douno’s situation. Douno was incensed, but he had no idea who it could be. His parents and his sister were the only people who knew which prison he was in. As long as the three of them remained silent, no one else was supposed to have known.<br />
<p>While mulling over the different possibilities, Douno wondered suddenly if it may have been Mitsuhashi. But Mitsuhashi was neither short nor fat. Those physical features were hard to disguise; the man could not be him. Then who was it? Douno thought night and day of the man who had stolen three million from his parents.<br />
<p>Sewing at work about three days after his mother had come to see him, Douno caught himself trying to put the upper thread where the bobbin was supposed to go. The mistake jarred his nerves, but he figured it was just because he was lost in thought. But while fixing a spot he had sewed accidentally, Douno grabbed a pair of scissors thinking he was reaching for a seam ripper, and did not realize his mistake until he had cut a chunk of the cloth clean off. The succession of mistakes that he normally never made scared Douno and made him feel as if he were losing his mind. He knew that if he kept thinking about the three million, it would get to him. But no matter how much he tried to distract himself, every free moment he had, he found his thoughts gravitating back to it again.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>After supper, Douno opened a borrowed book as usual. But he could not get past a single line. <i>Who tricked my parents?</i>―the thought circled round and round inside his head.<br />
<p>“Douno.” Douno winced at being called, and looked up.<br />
<p>“Tomorrow’s laundry day. You’ll be putting your socks out for the wash, right?” Shiba waved a scrap of paper in his right hand. “If you’re not gonna hand them in now, you’ll have to put them in the laundry bag yourself tomorrow morning. I’ll fill in your Laundry Request Slip in advance. Personal articles, right?”<br />
<p>“Yes.”<br />
<p>Shiba gathered everyone’s socks, bunched them with string, and put them in the laundry bag. Douno was overcome by an impulse to ask Shiba, not because Shiba had initiated the conversation, but because Douno was desperate to ask anyone who would listen.<br />
<p>“Um―”<br />
<p>Shiba turned around. “Don’t wanna put it in the wash?” he asked, tilting his head.<br />
<p>“No... I... I wasn’t talking about laundry. I wanted to ask you something.”<br />
<p>“What is it?” Shiba placed the laundry bag down on the <i>tatami</i> mat.<br />
<p>“Normally, only your family would know which prison you’re in, right?”<br />
<p>“No one else would know unless you tell them.”<br />
<p>“I guess...” Douno lapsed into silence, just as Kumon came butting in.<br />
<p>“What? What is it? Something happen?”<br />
<p>“No, it’s not much...” Douno answered vaguely. He tried to change the topic, but Kumon and Shiba questioned him so persistently, he found himself opening his mouth again.<br />
<p>“Someone claiming to be my old friend visited my parents. He told them he was in the police department, and that he’d make arrangements for me. My parents went ahead and gave him a token of gratitude, even though―”<br />
<p>“Uhhh, ‘token of gratitude’?” Kakizaki asked in a drawl. Kumon smacked him in the back of the head.<br />
<p>“Money, idiot. Cash.”<br />
<p>“I see,” Shiba said quietly, and gave Kumon a pointed look. Kumon also gave a furtive glance in Shiba’s direction.<br />
<p>“Douno, you know it’s against the rules here to tell anyone your address, or give someone else’s address out.” Shiba’s voice was sombre.<br />
<p>“...I know.”<br />
<p>“Did you tell someone?”<br />
<p>Mitsuhashi crossed his mind.<br />
<p>“Did you tell Mitsuhashi?” Kumon asked. Douno felt his heart jump.<br />
<p>“But it can’t be Mitsuhashi,” he protested. “The man that came to my house was short and heavyset. He and Mitsuhashi are completely different body types.”<br />
<p>“Hmm,” Shiba said as he crossed his arms. “Mitsuhashi is out on parole, right? If he gets caught doing something bad during that time, his sentence will be doubled. He’s a smart one, so I can’t imagine him crossing such a dangerous line.”<br />
<p>“I think it’s Mitsuhashi,” Kumon said as he leaned across the table. “Your sentence’s short, Douno, so you’ll get out while he’s still on parole. He wouldn’t be able to pull that stunt once you got out, so he did it now. Maybe he got someone to do it for him, so it wouldn’t be traced back.”<br />
<p>“Ah, I didn’t think about that,” Shiba murmured.<br />
<p>As Douno listened to Shiba and Kumon talking, he too began to feel like it really had been Mitsuhashi. But the last thing he wanted to do was be suspicious of a man he had opened his heart to.<br />
<p>“But Mitsuhashi told me,” he insisted. “He said he was under false charges, too. He was planning for us to file a lawsuit together after I got out.”<br />
<p>“Mitsuhashi, under false charges? Bullshit,” Kumon spat. “He’s a fraud down to his bones. He was bragging about raking in cash from old people who live alone by doing door-to-door sales.”<br />
<p>Douno felt like someone had pulled a black curtain over his eyes. So Mitsuhashi had not been falsely accused. They had not shared the same predicament after all. What had he meant when he said he wanted to fight together when Douno was released from prison? He vividly recalled his conversations with Mitsuhashi. Was he lying when he said he operated a trading company, and that he could speak foreign languages? Were his earnest attitude, his sympathetic nod, his words―”oh, I know”, “of course, I understand”―all lies?<br />
<p>Come to think of it, the only times Mitsuhashi ever spoke about himself were when they were alone together at lunch or during exercise period. Since Mitsuhashi had mentioned not telling anyone about being false accused, Douno figured he had not wanted to be overheard by the rest of the inmates. But now that he thought about it, perhaps Mitsuhashi’s secrecy was to avoid being overheard and exposed. When he left, he had also not told Douno his address. Perhaps he was lying about having no arrangements―perhaps he had intended not to tell Douno all along. One straight line connected every incident with the truth. Douno gaped in disbelief at the knots in the table, unable to close his mouth. He had been tricked.<br />
<p>Shiba came around behind him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.<br />
<p>“Mitsuhashi was a bastard, but you weren’t careful enough, either, Douno. There are a lot of cases like that, where trusting inmates exchange addresses with each other, and one ends up being cheated by the guy who gets out first.”<br />
<p>“I don’t believe it,” Douno whispered. He balled his hands into fists on the <i>tatami</i> mat and gritted his teeth. A despair more arresting than what he felt at the moment of his conviction overtook his body. Boiling wrath made him shake from head to toe.<br />
<p>“I’ll―I’ll take him to court!” He sprang up and reached for the buzzer to call the guard over, but was intercepted by Shiba.<br />
<p>“You have no proof,” Shiba said firmly. “Even if you file a claim in court, all Mitsuhashi has to say is that he has no idea, and that’ll be the end of it. You, on the other hand, will be sent to solitary for unlawful communication because you told him your address. It’ll affect your parole.”<br />
<p>Douno sank back down onto the <i>tatami</i> mat. He knew who was responsible, yet he could do nothing. It was his own fault, yet he could do nothing.<br />
<p>“You’ve told your parents to file a complaint, haven’t you? All you can do now is wait.”<br />
<p>But if Mitsuhashi was not caught―if he got away―Douno would have no choice but to admit defeat. Tears rolled down his face at the realization. His parents had already been pushed to the margins of the society by the fact that their son was in prison; Mitsuhashi had added insult to injury by further syphoning three million yen from them. But Douno was even more angry that the man had used his trust to make money. <i>Fiend, thief, burglar, liar... liar....</i> Douno slowly raised his head. He caught the expressionless man in a corner of his eye and lunged at him, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.<br />
<p>“Oh―hey! Come on!” Shiba hastily pried Douno off Kitagawa.<br />
<p>“You knew!” Douno accused. “You knew Mitsuhashi was going to―to trick me out of my money. Didn’t you? Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.<br />
<p>Kitagawa remained expressionless at Douno’s angry outburst.<br />
<p>“Douno, lower your voice,” Shiba warned. “If the guard comes―”<br />
<p>Douno ignored him. “Answer me!” he bellowed. Kitagawa smoothed the crumpled spot on his shirt where Douno had grabbed him, and gave a short exhale.<br />
<p>“I don’t know anything.” His voice was flat. “I don’t know anything about it. I just told you that Mitsuhashi is a liar because that’s what he is.”<br />
<p>The bell rang, signalling rest period before lights-out. At the same time, the window facing the hallway opened with a bang, the guard’s face appearing through the bars.<br />
<p>“Hey! What’s this noise about?” he barked.<br />
<p>Shiba stepped forward.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry,” he said as he bowed his head. “I think the TV was turned up too high. We’ll turn it down.”<br />
<p>Deep creases appeared between the guard’s eyebrows as he twisted his face into a scowl.<br />
<p>“You should know that television hours start after nineteen o’clock and only after nineteen o’clock. Are you saying you turned on the TV before designated hours?”<br />
<p>“I’m sorry, sir,” Shiba apologized. “My daughter is sprinting in the national championships today. They’re being held in Kobe, and I was worried about the weather.”<br />
<p>Evidently the words “daughter” and “national championships” had some effect on the guard, for he let them off with nothing more than a warning.<br />
<p>“I don’t care what reason it is,” he snapped. “Watching television is forbidden outside of designated hours. Don’t make me remind you again.”<br />
<p>After the guard left, the other four cellmates began to fold up the table, lay out their futons, and change into their pyjamas. Douno remained sitting on the floor in a trance. He knew he was being spoken to, but could not move. Shiba laid his futon out for him.<br />
<p>“Get your ass moving and change, or we’ll get into trouble again,” Kumon hissed. Douno finally changed into his pyjamas. “Don’t forget to fold your uniform,” Kumon added. “Look, I know you’re in shock at being frauded, but our cell is going to lose TV privileges if we gets points docked because of you, alright?”<br />
<p>Douno folded his discarded uniform and slipped into his futon. Suddenly, a wave of tears surged from the depths of his body. He was fraught with guilt towards his parents―guilt and shame that such an enormous sum had been stolen because of his own carelessness. He cursed the wicked man who had tricked him. <i>If curses could kill</i>, he thought fervently, all the while mentally damning the man to hell. Vermin like Mitsuhashi did not deserve to live. Douno felt like he could give his life for the opportunity to escape and kill Mitsuhashi, or to have someone kill him in exchange.<br />
<p>Douno sank his teeth into his pillow to resist the urge to scream. He attacked the pillow again and again, as if he intended to tear it apart with his teeth. His jaw began to feel numb and his pillow turned sticky with saliva. He did not even notice Kumon and Kakizaki giving him disturbed looks.<br />
<p>His mind filled with the same words: “I hate him”, “I want to kill him”―and somewhere in the midst of it, fleetingly, “I want to die”. He wished he could. He had not only brought hardship upon his sister and parents, but he had done it twice, three times over. He attracted trouble merely by living. He knew he ought to disappear.<br />
<p>Douno dozed a little around dawn. It was the start of another normal day, yet he felt as if someone had wrapped a thin membrane around his mind. He felt only the vaguest sense that he was alive.<br />
<p>Douno did not touch his breakfast. Even after heading out to the factory and beginning his work, he felt absent-minded. Staring at the straight stitches made him feel like he was an unfeeling machine. He left his lunch untouched, and at supper, he sat without even bothering to take a pair of chopsticks from the box.<br />
<p>“Aren’t you going to eat?” Shiba asked him. Douno did not care to answer.<br />
<p>When rest period came around, Douno immediately got into his futon. He spewed curses at Mitsuhashi mentally, loathed himself for being stupid enough to be tricked, and contemplated the ways he could die.<br />
<p>Even dying was a challenge in prison. He could not do it in his group cell, for one. He thought of applying for a solitary cell, but had heard that applications by fourth-class inmates would not even be considered. He wondered if he could go to the washroom during work and hang himself there. He did not remember there being any rafters he could tie a rope to, so he decided he would check tomorrow.<br />
<p>Once he decided that he would kill himself, Douno felt a little better. But when he thought about the fact that he was going to die for a man like Mitsuhashi, the base of his stomach burned with anger and frustration. However, he always came back to the thought that death would free him of this suffering, too―forever. Thus he settled on the decision that he did want to die after all.<br />
<p>The next morning, Douno ate just two bites of breakfast. He headed to the factory, and during his morning break he went to the washroom only to be disappointed. There were no rafters or nails he could hang a rope from. He thought of biting his own tongue, but did not have the courage to do it immediately. He also wanted to leave a will.<br />
<p>Douno ate half of his lunch before putting his chopsticks down. After cleaning up his dishes, he approached the bookshelf, but did not feel the urge to read anything. He saw no point in it anymore. He gazed reflectively at his surroundings in the small cafeteria while feeling a touch of futility at the idea that his life’s last moments would be inside a prison.<br />
<p>Somebody was approaching him. It was Natsuki, a man in his fifties who lived in the cell across from him. He smelled badly. It had gotten better with the arrival of winter, but when Douno had first come to prison, the man had reeked of vomit.<br />
<p>“Howdy, Douno,” Natsuki said. Douno only remembered speaking a handful of words with the man. They were not close at all. Douno inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement. Natsuki smirked.<br />
<p>“So I heard Mitsuhashi screwed you out of a lot of money.”<br />
<p>Douno could feel the saliva pass through his throat. It made a loud gurgle. How did Natsuki know? Douno had only told the members of his own cell.<br />
<p>“Who did you hear that from?”<br />
<p>Natsuki stuck a pinkie into his right nostril and dug a wad of something out.<br />
<p>“Kakizaki, the idiot. Said you’re so done in you look like you’re about to die.” Natsuki guffawed, then whispered with stinking breath into Douno’s ear. “The guy was telling me what a naive and straight-laced kid you are. He figured your prim-and-proper parents would have money saved up. Who’da known he’d be right on?”<br />
<p>“Y―You knew about this?”<br />
<p>“You bet I knew. He told me personally not to lay my hands on his prey.”<br />
<p>Douno’s balled fists were shaking.<br />
<p>“You could have warned me, at least,” he said quietly. “Thanks to him, my parents are...”<br />
<p>Natsuki scoffed and hunched his shoulders.<br />
<p>“Why the hell should I care about your parents? You can blame yourself for getting reeled in.”<br />
<p>Natsuki turned his back, apparently satisfied that he had said what he had come to say. In the next instant, Douno found himself grabbing Natsuki by the back of his collar. He forced the man to turn around, and swung a fist straight at his face. A dull crack resounded. The man staggered and fell over onto his back. Douno straddled him. As the man’s face twisted in fear, Douno slugged him over and over.<br />
<p>“Douno, stop it!” Shiba grabbed him by the armpits from behind, but Douno wrestled free. As Natsuki tried to crawl away, Douno dragged him back by his ankles, took hold of the man’s head and smashed it against the floor.<br />
<p>“The hell do you think you’re doing?” bellowed a guard, appearing in a flash. The emergency alarm went off. Four guards came running, and in a manner of moments, they had restrained Douno’s arms and legs.<br />
<p>“Let go! Let go of me!” Douno kept shouting until a towel was shoved into his mouth. When he continued to struggle, the guards mercilessly kicked him in the back and stomach. The pain made his breath catch and his movements stop. The guards took the chance to drag him out of the cafeteria.<br />
<p>Douno was taken to the interrogation room, where he was stripped of his factory uniform, underwear and all. He was changed into something that resembled a lab coat and a pair of underwear with an open seam in the crotch. Next, he was outfitted with a type of leather belt with leather wrist restraints, which secured his right hand behind him and his left hand in front. When he would not stop yelling, he was also muzzled with some kind of material.<br />
<p>Douno was half-dragged by two guards to the basement, and thrown into an empty room only about three square metres in area. All the walls were lined with a soft sponge-like material. The floor was linoleum, like an old hospital. Douno continued to scream through his gag, banging his head against the walls and floor numerous times as he tumbled around, until he finally stretched out, exhausted. Only then did he realize that he was in some kind of “secure cell”.<br />
<p>Once the inferno of his rage had passed, he was overwhelmed by listlessness and powerlessness. Douno pressed his face against the linoleum floor and wept. Mucus and tears ran freely from his nose and eyes, but since his arms were secured he could not even wipe his face. Soon, exhausted from weeping too, he passed out into a deep sleep.<br />
<p>He did not know how long he had been asleep for―but he awoke to a violent chill and a strong urge to urinate. There was nothing in the room which resembled a toilet; there was only a single hole in the floor about ten centimetres wide in the right corner of the room. Douno remembered someone mentioning that the toilet in a secure cell was just a hole. He walked over to the hole and squatted down, and his penis slid out from the open seam in his underwear. Without his hands, it was hard to aim his penis. As he fumbled, soon he could not hold it in anymore; he ended up wetting the floor around the hole and even splashed a little of his foot. His feeling of despair worsened, and Douno curled up like a cat in a corner of the room. He wanted to die. He had been planning to. Why did it have to end up like this?<br />
<p>Douno did not want to think of anything. But in this empty space, there was nothing he could do other than think.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>For three days, Douno was left alone with his leather wrist restraints and gag. On the fourth day, there was an interrogation. Douno was sentenced to a punishment called “light solitary confinement” for a week. During factory work hours, he had to remain sitting either cross-legged or on his knees in his secure cell.<br />
<p>His wrist restraints and gag were taken off, but he had no one to talk to, no work to do; it was a living hell to sit all day in a space devoid of any stimuli whatsoever. The only things that marked the passage of time were his three meals daily. He was chronically dizzy, and became prone to tripping and falling while on his feet. Douno felt his body slowly beginning to break down. Sitting in silence, he began to hear a buzzing in his ears that refused to leave, and persisted into the night.<br />
<p>On the evening seven days after he was sentenced to solitary confinement and ten days after he was placed in the secure cell, Douno was finally allowed to go back to his group cell. The ringing in his ears showed no signs of disappearing even after his return. In the secure cell, he had longed to hear any human voice, but now whenever he heard a voice he felt like covering his ears.<br />
<p>Shiba and Kumon tried to talk to him, but Douno refused to answer. He did not want to, and he was afraid of associating with people. People were not normal here. Everyone here manipulated and betrayed each other. The prison guards were the same: they had put him into a secure cell without so much as a decent investigation, had bound his wrists with leather, and had not even allowed him to wipe his excrement after he had relieved himself. Douno felt like this place had stripped every last shred of shame from him.<br />
<p>The next morning after returning to the group cell, Douno shaved his face for the first time in eleven days. The man in the mirror had hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes, and looked almost like a ghost. He felt disgust well up inside him, and before he knew it he had shattered the mirror with his bare fist. The mirror broke with a loud crash. Douno stood dumbly in front of the destroyed remains. In an instant, Shiba had grabbed the electric razor from him and sent him sprawling to the floor with a shove.<br />
<p>“What the hell is gong on?” yelled a guard, who had come running at the noise.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry, sir. I was shaving and I bumped my elbow against the mirror. I’m very sorry. I’ll clean it up immediately. I’ll pay for the broken mirror out of my wages.” Shiba apologized profusely with Douno’s razor in hand. The guard seemed convinced that it was not done on purpose, and made Shiba clean up the broken fragments under his supervision before collecting the dustpan and broken glass and taking it away. After the guard left, Shiba gave a short sigh and turned back to Douno.<br />
<p>“You alright? Your hand isn’t hurt or anything?” he asked gently.<br />
<p>Douno’s spine froze at his kind tone. He half-trembled, half-shook his head, and fled to a corner of the room.<br />
<p>“How about a ‘thank you’, huh?” Kumon snapped. “You were about to be sent right back into solitary.” Douno’s mind did not register his words. Instead, his suspicions towards Shiba burgeoned. Why didn’t Shiba leave him alone? Why did he insist on helping? Perhaps this man was approaching him with a friendly face, only to trick him when he opened up. Douno grew paranoid.<br />
<p>Roll call was immediately afterwards, followed by breakfast. Douno’s hands shook badly as he held his chopsticks. He could only finish half of his meal, which he threw up in the washroom not long afterwards. At the factory, he had trouble getting anything done. He could not sew straight. His hands shook, and he sewed the same seam over so many times that he ruined the cloth.<br />
<p>He ran into Natsuki at lunchtime in the cafeteria. When their eyes met, Natsuki visibly flinched and looked away. Back in the secure cell, Douno had loathed this man so much he felt he could kill him, but now all the aggression had vanished somewhere.<br />
<p>Rather, Douno wished he could die. He wanted to die and be freed from his suffering. He did not want to stay here a second longer. He wanted a way out, even if it meant being taken out as a corpse.<br />
<p>Douno barely ate his lunch, and whatever he ate he soon threw up. It was bathing day that day, and to no one’s surprise he lost consciousness and keeled over in the showers. He was taken to the infirmary, where he dozed for about three hours. He was deemed to be in regular health, and sent promptly back to his cell. It was suppertime when Douno returned, but again, he could barely eat even half.<br />
<p>Even sitting made him tired, but since he was not allowed to lie down, he put his head down on the table. During his time in the secure cell, he had yearned desperately for even a single book to read; now that he was in a situation where he could, he did not even feel like picking one up. Finally, nineteen o’clock rolled around and it was time for rest period. Douno remained leaning listlessly against the wall, so Shiba put out his futon for him. Kumon told him to get changed, so he changed into his pyjamas. Even after he got inside his futon, his ears were still buzzing and his mind was muddled and hazy.<br />
<p>“Think he’s a goner?”<br />
<p>“Shh!”<br />
<p>Douno could vaguely hear the conversations about him. He was insane. He had gone mad. He was probably done for. His eyes were closed, but time passed by without bringing sleep. A trigger could be anything. His feet were not getting warmer at all. Even a small thing like that was enough to make tears well up in his eyes. He rolled over on his stomach, buried his face into his pillow, and wept. Quiet footsteps approached, and stopped in front of the cell. Douno lifted his face at the sound of the window opening, and saw the night guard staring at Douno through the bars.<br />
<p>“If you’re going to cry about it, make sure you never end up here again.”<br />
<p>If he had really done something bad, perhaps those words would have deeply affected him. But there was simply no way Douno could feel remorse when he had been forced into this place for doing nothing.<br />
<p>Was it wrong that he had ventured to believe someone in prison? Was everything wrong right, and everything right wrong in this place? Were words like “common sense” and “justice” simply nonexistent here?<br />
<p>After the guard walked away, Douno slowly propped himself up. He stared vacantly at the wall for some moments before he slipped out of his futon and stood in front of the sink and mirror.<br />
<p>A blurry shadow emerged from the darkness. Douno tried banging his forehead against the corner of the mirror. He felt something warm and runny, but peculiarly, it did not hurt. He banged his head over and over until a voice yelled from the hall window.<br />
<p>“What’re you doing over there?” Douno turned around to see a guard glowering as he shone a flashlight at him.<br />
<p>The words “secure cell” crossed Douno’s mind. He vividly recalled being bound by leather handcuffs and being thrown into that place.<i> I don’t want to be put in there again</i>―just as the thought occurred, Douno found himself bowing his head to the guard.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry. I was going to the washroom, and I slipped... I fell down. I’m sorry for making noise. I won’t do it again. I’m sorry.”<br />
<p>The night guard gave him a doubtful look and shone the light on Douno’s face.<br />
<p>“What happened to your forehead?”<br />
<p>“This is... I slipped and hit my head on a corner.”<br />
<p>The night guard apparently thought it too troublesome to pursue further.<br />
<p>“Be careful next time,” he said shortly before walking on. The commotion had woken Shiba and Kitagawa, who were now looking this way.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry for making noise.” Douno lowered his head to them both in a clumsy bow, and slipped back into his futon. As he stared up at the ceiling, tears streamed from the corners of his eyes and did not stop. If he sobbed, it would make noise. If he got a reprimand from the guard, he would be deducted points again. If they lost ten points or more, television would be banned for the whole cell. Everyone would blame him. Sorrow seeped through the cracks of the reality of losing television privileges. Douno felt such utter futility that he felt his jaw would come unhinged.<br />
<p>His very existence, his thirty years living a more-or-less decent life, seemed so insubstantial. Soon he began to wonder if he really wasn’t equivalent to trash. He didn’t care who―he wanted someone to save him. He wanted someone to take him out of here. He wanted someone to say he wasn’t wrong about anything, that he was right. Tears accumulated inside his ears. <i>Help me, help me, help me...</i> he repeated in his heart.<br />
<p>He heard footsteps approaching from far away. At nighttime, it was easy to sense footsteps, no matter how quietly the person walked. Probably because of the previous commotion, the guard carefully shone the light into every corner of the cell before moving on. Douno waited long enough until he thought the guard had gone. He opened his eyes and glanced over to the hall window, and was startled to find Kitagawa staring back from the futon beside him.<br />
<p>Douno felt awkward as realized that the man must have seen him blubbering. He turned his face up and closed his eyes. Even with his eyes closed, the tears kept running down his cheeks. Suddenly, something swelled in his throat and threatened to burst out of his mouth. Douno sank his teeth into his wrist. If he didn’t, he felt like he would forget the time and place and begin screaming. Once the storm of emotions passed, he let go of his wrist. Unable to close his mouth, he left it half-open as he gazed at the ceiling. His jaws began to chatter as if he were in the cold.<br />
<p>“Help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me, help me....”<br />
<p>Douno did not realize he was speaking out loud until he felt his lips trembling. He could feel the curses oozing out of his body. A gentle hand was placed on his head, and Douno snapped his eyes open. The hand slowly stroked his hair. It repeated the same movements over and over, as if to soothe a very young child. There was no mistake; it was the man beside him. Douno pulled his futon up to his eyes. If he was found sleeping with his face covered, he knew would get a warning from the guard. He knew, but could not bring himself to show his face again.<br />
<p>His tears spilled over and refused to stop, flowing even more freely than before, but Douno could not understand why.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Morning came, and only then did Douno realize he had nodded off.<br />
<p>“Uhhh, whut happened t’your forehead?” drawled Kakizaki. Douno smoothed it over with the excuse that he had tripped and fallen last night.<br />
<p>Kitagawa was the same as ever. He had comforted Douno, but did not seem to expect any acknowledgement for it. Douno, frankly, was grateful. Crying usually only made his exhaustion accumulate, but this morning his chest felt lighter as if a great load had been taken off. This was despite the fact that his circumstance had not changed since yesterday. <br />
<p>He was hungry, so he cleaned off his plate at breakfast. When they headed out to the factory, Douno found himself not having to rip his stitches and sew them over and over again. At this rate, he would be able to finish the morning’s quota in time for lunch.<br />
<p><i>I guess I should at least say thanks</i>, Douno thought while he worked. Kitagawa’s silence did not change the fact that Douno had indeed been comforted by that touch last night. <i>Yeah, but,</i> whispered his other self. <i>Isn’t this Kitagawa’s plan?</i> Perhaps he was only showing a little kindness to make Douno feel indebted, and once Douno humbled himself and thanked him, Kitagawa would demand exorbitant compensation. Kindness did not always simply equate to goodwill here. Just because someone seemed nice, it did not mean that they actually were. The incident with Mitsuhashi had taught Douno more than enough of that.<br />
<p>On one hand, Douno was apprehensive, but on the other hand, he was sick of himself for doubting everything. What if Kitagawa had comforted him out of pure goodwill, out of sympathy? Douno’s honest wish was to thank him, and he felt Kitagawa was deserving of no less. But he did not want to be tricked again.<br />
<p>Douno was still mulling things over when lunched rolled around. He made his way to the cafeteria and sat down. They had shifted seats since Douno first arrived, but he was still beside Kitagawa as usual. Today’s meal was <acronym title="Chicken, onions, and eggs flavoured with sweet-salty sauce and served on top of rice."><i>oyakodon</i></acronym>, with a side of bean sprouts dressed in sesame and two <acronym title="Spirinchus lanceolatus. A small, flavourful fish about the length of a human hand, often served salted and grilled whole."><i>shishamo</i></acronym> fish. Some devoured it in five minutes flat, but Douno slowly chewed on his mouthful of barley rice.<br />
<p>He was preoccupied with the actions of the man beside him, perhaps because he was thinking so hard about whether he should thank him or not. Kitagawa also ate very quickly, and never left anything uneaten. But today, his chopsticks stayed paused above the fish. They wandered a little as if in uncertainty, then, in one decisive move, Kitagawa whisked the fish up and stuffed the both of them at once into his mouth. He screwed his eyes shut, and deep creases formed between his eyebrows as he chewed intently. Inmates were not punished for leaving their meals uneaten; Douno wondered why Kitagawa did not just leave the fish if he hated it so much. But at the same time, he was amused by the sight of the man pulling a face as he ate.<br />
<p>Once their meal was over, Kitagawa began to watch the television installed in the wall. He showed no signs of picking up a book or chatting with someone else. Come to think of it, even in their cell, Kitagawa would always stand in a circle of chatting inmates without ever speaking up on his own. Their cellmates Kumon, Shiba, and Kakizaki, on the other hand, were currently completely occupied in their conversations with people from other cells.<br />
<p>The television was playing a show that was apparently geared towards middle-aged or older housewives, for words like “health” and “cholesterol” were being thrown around frequently.<br />
<p>“Um―”<br />
<p>Kitagawa turned around. His emotionless eyes looked almost angry, and Douno was put on guard.<br />
<p>“About last night... er, thank you.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa twitched his right eyebrow and cocked his head.<br />
<p>“It made me feel a bit better, so....”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa said as if it were none of his business, and turned back to the TV. It was not like Douno had expected anything. He thought maybe the man would at least say “that’s nice” out of politeness, but there was none of that. Gazing at the aloof and taciturn man, Douno felt like the person who had stroked his head last night was someone totally different. He was even more stumped about why the man had chosen to comfort him. He could read nothing of the man’s intent from his profile.<br />
<p>“Aren’t you gonna read?” The man abruptly turned to ask him. Douno, who had assumed the man was watching TV all along, was startled by the sudden question. He tripped over his words as he answered.<br />
<p>“Wh―huh? Read?”<br />
<p>“You always read after you eat.”<br />
<p>“Oh, right. Maybe not today, though.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa turned back to the TV. The man’s abrupt timing made it strangely difficult to carry a conversation. Douno was just reflecting on the thought when the man spoke up again.<br />
<p>“Why did you say thank you to me?”<br />
<p>He was bringing back a conversation that Douno assumed had long ended. He looked down and clasped his hands again, trying to deal with the awkwardness of being asked to explain his gratitude.<br />
<p>“Well, because I thought I ought to.”<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” Kitagawa said in answer, and shifted his eyes back to the TV again. <i>What a strange guy</i>, Douno thought, and before long, lunch was over. As they took roll call and got back to work, Douno reached a conclusion of sorts in his mind. Yes, Kitagawa was a little peculiar, but that was to be expected. After all, he would not have killed someone if he was a normal human being with common sense. Feeling strangely satisfied, Douno engrossed himself in his work.<br />
<p>The incident happened at suppertime. Today’s meal was fried chicken, Chinese-style vegetable soup, kimchi, and an apple. It was Douno’s first time having fried chicken since getting into prison, and for once the meal was delicious.<br />
<p>Even Kumon, who always had something to complain about the food, munched contentedly. “This is good stuff,” he beamed. Douno also went straight for the two pieces of chicken without so much a glance at the rest of his meal. It was odd―he felt like the act of eating and the ability to think it delicious was directly connected to being alive.<br />
<p>“Is the chicken good?” a voice beside him asked. Douno looked over to see Kitagawa with one piece of chicken left on his plate. <i>You’ve eaten one yourself</i>, he thought, but answered anyway.<br />
<p>“Yeah, it’s good.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa then picked the last piece of chicken off his plate and plopped it onto Douno’s. Douno felt the blood recede from his face. He hastily turned to look behind him, ensured that the guard was not looking, and threw the chicken back at Kitagawa.<br />
<p>Sharing meals was strictly forbidden in prison. This was to prevent stronger inmates from bullying the weaker ones out of their food. If inmates were caught exchanging food, even on mutual agreement, they were given a warning. Sometimes they could get a ticket, or worse, given a formal reprimand.<br />
<p>Once an inmate was sentenced to punishment, his parole was pushed back for half a year. Since Douno’s sentence was short to begin with, his last reprimand resulted in him losing his parole altogether. He now had to serve his full sentence. Any number of tickets or reprimands would not prevent his release from prison, but Douno wanted to spend the few months of his sentence in peace, and he wanted to do everything in his power to avoid being marked out by the guard in charge.<br />
<p>Kitagawa gazed alternately at Douno’s face and the rejected chicken, then popped the chicken into his mouth. He finished eating it without another word. Maybe this man was trying to get him into trouble. Douno renewed the apprehension in his heart. Just because the man had done a kind deed or two, it did not mean that he could trust him. He was the kind of man to end up here, after all. He was not a man Douno could afford to let his guard down around.<br />
<p>Douno finished his meal and flipped open the weekly magazine that had just arrived. He had completely forgotten that he had ordered it at the beginning of the month. The insect-like buzzing in his ears was fading, and he could now concentrate well enough to read.<br />
<p>Douno suddenly shivered as he felt a chill come on. He sneezed twice in a row. It had been cold in the secure cell, and since then he had begun to sneeze occasionally. Douno wished he could curl up in a blanket, but he knew he would get a warning if he was caught using a blanket before rest hours.<br />
<p>Douno flipped through the magazine, looking for something that might distract him from the cold. He found a crossword puzzle. He had picked a pencil off the shelf and was just about to get started on it when a hand appeared and slammed the magazine shut. It was Kitagawa. Douno felt a twinge of irritation, but felt it too troublesome to argue. He opened the page to the crossword puzzle again. Once more, the hand appeared and flipped the magazine shut, this time resting on the cover as if to prevent him from opening it again. Having it done once was irritating; by the second time, it was getting on Douno’s nerves.<br />
<p>“Please don’t give me a hard time,” he said quietly, suppressing his anger. The hand holding the book down refused to budge. When he tried to pry Kitagawa’s hand off by force, Kitagawa only put more weight onto it. The two glared at each other silently.<br />
<p>“Alright, alright, that’s enough, you two,” intervened Shiba, who had apparently been watching their exchange. “Kitagawa,” he remonstrated, “you have to put it into words, or else Douno won’t understand.” Then, he turned to look at Douno.<br />
<p>“You see,” he said, “we aren’t allowed to do crossword puzzles. If you’re caught doing one, you’ll be sentenced to punishment.”<br />
<p>Douno was startled to hear the word “punishment”. <br />
<p>“God knows why,” Shiba added, “but I think someone must have used it in the past as some kind of code to try to communicate with people outside.”<br />
<p>Douno had not expected something as innocent as this to be a target for a reprimand. It was not like he was dying to do the crossword anyway, and he did not want to take any unnecessary risks. Douno flipped the crossword page closed and looked at his feet in embarrassment. He could not look the other man in the face. Kitagawa had been warning him out of kindness all this time. But there was no way Douno could have understood that crosswords were not allowed if Kitagawa did not say anything―he felt a flash of anger at the man’s lack of verbalization, then immediately regretted his selfishness. If Kitagawa had not told him at all, Douno would have been punished.<br />
<p>When he looked up, his eyes met with Kitagawa’s. Judging by his expression, he seemed to be expecting Douno to say something.<br />
<p>“I’m sorry I misunderstood. Thanks for telling me.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa narrowed his eyes.<br />
<p>“Mm-hmm,” he said softly. Douno felt like the man was mocking him, and instantly regretted apologizing.<br />
<p>Douno’s feet were still cold when rest period came around and he got into his futon. No matter how much he rubbed them together, they did not warm up. He fell asleep preoccupied with the cold, and was not surprised to wake up the next morning with a runny nose.<br />
<p>That day turned out to be one of the two medical checkups that occurred weekly. Douno requested for cold medicine when the caretaker came around in the morning, but since his body temperature was only thirty-seven degrees, he was given a “bathing ban” by the medical officer and was let go without any medicine. Douno had a history of long colds, and he was worried about what was to come. Unfortunately, his predictions came true.<br />
<p>Douno’s joints began to ache in the afternoon, and he felt his temperature rising. He felt heavy and lethargic. He had no appetite. He forced himself to eat to maintain energy, but threw it back up soon afterwards.<br />
<p>His head was pounding and his nose would not stop running. Unable to endure any more, Douno rang the buzzer. Within minutes, a guard’s face appeared at the window.<br />
<p>“What is it?” he said.<br />
<p>“Number 145, Douno, sir.” He bowed to the officer beyond the metal bars. “I have a headache and my nose won’t stop running. Would I be able to get some cold medicine, sir?”<br />
<p>The guard glared at him.<br />
<p>“Didn’t you report to the medical officer today?”<br />
<p>“I asked for a checkup, sir. But I was only given a bathing ban and no medication.”<br />
<p>“If a bathing ban is what the medical officer decided, then that’s what you’ll get. You must have caught a cold because you lacked discipline.”<br />
<p><i>Don’t call me for such insignificant things</i>, the guard’s arrogant attitude seemed to say. Douno was struck speechless. Once the guard was gone, Shiba spoke up behind him.<br />
<p>“You won’t be able to get medication,” he said quietly. “It’ll have to get pretty serious until they’re willing to give you any. They won’t even put you in a normal hospital until you’re nearly dead. You’ll just have to wait until the next checkup.”<br />
<p>Douno sank down in despair. He had no choice but to endure it. He was unwell, yet they refused him medication. He even felt anger creeping up at the state of Japan’s prisons. What would they do, then, if an ill inmate died because they neglected him?<br />
<p>He felt a violent chill down his spine. If he died, that would be it. Dead men did not need food. <i>Inmate No. 145 happened to catch a cold, and unfortunately for him it worsened and led to his death. The end.</i><br />
<p>Douno waited longingly until rest period came at nineteen o’clock, and got into his futon. He lay shivering, and his nose was still running. They were given only a set amount of tissues weekly for blowing their noses. Douno could not afford to waste them, so he used each tissue until it was soaked with mucus. When he ran out of tissues, he had no choice but to use his towel. But even that soon turned sticky and wet. Douno was forced into the miserable situation of wiping his snot with his own snot. Even after lights-out, the only sound in the cell was that of Douno’s sniffling. He knew the night guard could unmistakably hear it, too, but the guard did not say anything.<br />
<p>After the quiet footsteps receded into the distance, something soft touched Douno’s face. He wondered what it was, and realized it was a tissue. Someone else’s, because he had used up all of his own. He opened his eyes through his hazy consciousness and saw Kitagawa peering into his face.<br />
<p>Exchanging items between inmates was forbidden. Even for something as small as a single tissue, if they were caught, they were punished. The amount of tissues supplied weekly was not a large amount. If one ran out from giving too many away, he could ultimately even face difficulties wiping his bottom in the toilet. Once he thought of that, Douno felt guilty about being given Kitagawa’s precious tissues.<br />
<p>Kitagawa sat up slowly and snatched Douno’s snot-laden towel away. He took it to the sink and began to wash it. They were only allowed to wash their towels twice a week at designated times. Washing without permission in the middle of the night was absolutely against the rules. Douno fretted, but Kitagawa paid no mind to him. He continued to wash the towel, letting the water run only so much as to not make noise, then placed the towel on Douno’s forehead. The cold, moist towel was so soothing, the comfort seemed to penetrate to his brain.<br />
<p>“Thank you.” Douno’s nose ran even as he said those words, and he blew his nose into what was presumably Kitagawa’s tissue. “I’m sorry for using yours up. Really...”<br />
<p>He heard quiet footsteps. Kitagawa removed the towel from Douno’s forehead, and hid it under the uniform folded by his pillow. When the footsteps faded away, he placed it back on Douno’s head.<br />
<p>“You know, you don’t have to do this,” Douno whispered. “If the night guard finds you, you’ll get put into solitary. I mean it, really...”<br />
<p>Douno refused two more times after that, saying “it’s okay”, but Kitagawa did not let up. Douno eventually fell asleep, still sniffling wetly. When he came to, it was morning.<br />
<p>His nose continued to run after he awoke, and he felt dizzy. For breakfast, he only drank his <i>miso</i> soup and left the rest untouched. Work was not very taxing since most of it was done sitting down, but the factory was freezing. He shivered violently even while wearing a knitted top and bottom underneath his uniform. As he sewed soft, thick woollen ladies’ coats, he longingly imagined how nice it must feel to curl up in one of them and lie down.<br />
<p>Lunch was curry rice, but Douno had no appetite. It came with apple salad and milk dressing, which was the only thing he could manage to eat. Just as he was about to put his spoon down leaving his curry untouched, a hand reached over and quickly switched his plates. The apple salad with milk dressing which he had just eaten was taken away, and a new plate of apple salad was placed before him. Kitagawa, having observed that it was the only thing Douno could eat, and had given his own portion to him. The factory guard was not looking this way.<br />
<p>“Th―thank you.” Douno ate the apple salad without complaining. As he ate, he wondered why Kitagawa had been so kind to him, last night as well as the night before. Perhaps the fried chicken, too, which Douno had thought was a plan to get him into trouble, had been out of kindness.<br />
<p>Once their meal was over, Douno walked unsteadily to the sinks to deposit his dishes. He wanted to sit down, but Kitagawa grabbed his arm on the way back. He was taken to the bookshelves at the back of the cafeteria. He was yanked on the arm and forced into a squatting position.<br />
<p>“Is this book interesting?” Kitagawa was showing him a photo book called <i>Temples of Japan</i>. Douno wanted to sit down and rest, but could not ignore the man who had been so kind to him.<br />
<p>“I haven’t read it,” Douno replied, still squatting. Kitagawa brought his hand up to Douno’s face and opened his palm. There were three white pills in his hand. Kitagawa tilted Douno’s chin up and pressed his hand against Douno’s mouth. Still unable to fathom what was going on, Douno let the pills fall into his mouth and swallowed them along with his spit. He could not bring himself to ask what kind of pills they were. There was no way he could ask here, anyway. But by the afternoon, his runny nose had definitely subsided a little.<br />
<p>Once the long day was over, he returned to the group cell. With an effort, he managed to eat half of his dinner. Unable even to read a book, he had put his head down on the table when Kitagawa pulled at his arm again. He was taken to the shelves, where he was discreetly given three pills again. Douno swallowed them quickly. Once he had taken them, Kitagawa returned to the table as if nothing had happened, sat down cross-legged on the floor cushion and listened in on Shiba and Kumon’s conversation.<br />
<p>At night, Douno felt his fever rising again. His nose was not running as much, thanks to the medication, but his head ached. Once it was lights-out, Kitagawa found time in between the night guard’s rounds to wet a towel and cool Douno’s forehead. Douno’s nose had not completely stopped running, and before long he was sniffling again. Since he had used up all of Kitagawa’s tissues, Douno tried his best to get by without blowing his nose. Suddenly, Kitagawa reached over and pinched Douno’s nose.<br />
<p>Douno was surprised when the man then used his palm to wipe his nose. Like he had done with the towel, Kitagawa waited for the right opportunity to slip out and wash his hand. When Douno started sniffling again, he repeated the same thing. Douno was sure that even a lover or parent would balk if asked to do the same thing. He knew he would. Kitagawa was neither a parent nor a lover. They were not even close. Why was he being so kind? Douno found himself deeply moved, even, by Kitagawa’s compassion.<br />
<p>“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “But thank you.”<br />
<p>“Mmm,” Kitagawa said, in an answer that was hardly an answer, and continued caring for Douno without a word. No one could be this considerate superficially―perhaps Kitagawa was really kind, Douno thought. Even if it turned out to be false, Douno felt like he could at least believe that Kitagawa’s actions at this very moment were true.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/04/novel-in-box-in-box-pt-3.html">PART 3</a>.</center><br />
<br />
* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.ca/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-8407062896978764102013-04-14T00:42:00.001-04:002016-07-25T13:38:46.098-04:00[Narise Konohara] In the Box - Pt. 1This update is a whopper because I wanted to give you a good chunk of the novel to get a feel for it. If you're used to <i>No. 6</i>, here are a couple things I noticed about this novel:<br />
<ul><li><b>Things are much slower.</b> If you've read the synopsis, you'll think, "and just when the hell are they going to get together?" They will. Very eventually and with many, many obstacles.</li>
<li><b>It gets worse before it gets better.</b> I think putting characters through utter misery is a trademark of Narise Konohara. The journey to the end will be gut-wrenching.</li>
</ul><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>IN THE BOX</center><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>I’ve done nothing wrong.</i><br />
<br />
After two weeks of newcomer training, Takafumi Douno was assigned to Factory 8 of N. Penitentiary. He was ordered by a prison guard, clearly years younger than him, to spend the morning observing the routines. So he obeyed, and stood to the left of the two desks lined up beside the manager’s station. The factory area was about the size of two classrooms put together. The room was divided into four sections by two walkways intersecting in a cross. The work areas were raised about twenty centimetres higher than the walkway.<br />
<p>Factory 8 mainly handled sewing, and several dozen sewing machines were placed in neat, equally-spaced rows from the front of the work area to the back. A steady <i>dut-dut-dut</i> echoed in the air, like the rumbling of an earthquake.<br />
<p>It was the beginning of September, and the temperature was still high. Douno could feel the sweat slowly drench his back just by standing on the spot. The distinct smell of a gang of males, a scent that mingled with body odour, irritated his nose. The barred window to his left was thrown open wide, yet there was no breeze. There were, of course, no fans in this factory. To top it off, these men in their mousey grey factory uniforms were perspiring at the brow, frantically sewing none other than ladies’ fur coats.<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“Permission, sir,” a man called loudly in front of his sewing machine, raising his right hand high. He looked to be around his forties. The guard standing at the manager’s station pointed at him promptly.<br />
<p>“A refill of thread, please, sir,” the man yelled. Once he was granted permission, he hastily jogged to the shelves at the back of the factory. Holding the spool of thread, he raised his voice again: “Permission, sir!”<br />
<p>During training, Douno was given an instruction booklet of sorts about living in prison. In meticulous detail, it explained things like the daily schedule, planned right down to the minute; how to spend time within the group cell and the factory; and what kind of things were prohibited. Douno knew that he was not allowed to walk around freely without the guard’s permission, even for work-related reasons. He had gotten used to restrictive life from his time spent in the detention centre; and yet, the suffocating strictness of this place went far beyond that. Despite the fact that there was a newcomer in the room, everyone continued to sew without so much a glance in his direction―proof of how thoroughly the rules were enforced.<br />
<p>Douno could hear the cicadas buzzing through the drumming of the sewing machines. Feeling anything but the urge to work, he could only stare dumbly at the reality before him. He wondered what he was doing in a place like this. Why was he standing here sweating, watching other men working in front of the sewing machines sweating just as profusely?<br />
<p>“Why me?”<br />
<p>He had repeated the question to himself hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times from the moment he was arrested by the police, through the year and a half in the detention centre, up to this very moment.<br />
<p>He would forever remember that spring two years ago. March 16, past seven o’clock in the evening. Douno had been on his way home from work. He stepped off the train onto the platform of his transfer station only to be grabbed by the arm from behind. He turned around to see a woman standing there. She was perhaps in her early twenties, with short hair and a pretty face.<br />
<p>“This man molested me!” the woman shrieked. All eyes of the passersby turned on them. Douno could not recall doing any such thing.<br />
<p>“I haven’t done anything. Are you sure it wasn’t someone else?” he said.<br />
<p>“Don’t try to play dumb,” the woman said shrilly, her voice rising with her temper.<br />
<p>“I saw him do it,” chimed in another woman who had been standing nearby. The atmosphere around him turned grim. Even though he had really done nothing, the accusing gazes of the people around him said otherwise.<br />
<p>“It really wasn’t me,” he protested.<br />
<p>“Come with me!”<br />
<p>Douno was taken to the station manager’s office with the woman still holding him by the arm. No matter how many times Douno persisted that he had not done it, his account was not taken seriously. The police came shortly afterwards.<br />
<p>“We’ll hear your story at the station,” he was told. Douno had figured they would understand if he explained himself―he was innocent, after all. But all the detective had to say was, “You did it, didn’t you?” and refused to believe any part of Douno’s side of the story.<br />
<p>Douno was then put into a detention cell, and was questioned relentlessly almost every day without even a chance to go home. The detective used a carrot-and-stick tactic, first intimidating him by telling him to “’fess up already, because we all know you did it” before giving him smooth talk, saying if he would just say he did it, he would be let off with a 30,000 yen fine. Douno hated the idea of confessing to a crime he did not commit, so he continued to deny that he had done anything.<br />
<p>Those days were like a nightmare. Due to the stress of his ordeal, Douno lost hair, suffered stomach pains, and lost ten kilograms of weight. He was afraid that after being run into the ground and blamed over and over for something he had not done, he would one day lose his sanity and begin to feel like he actually had done it.<br />
<p>There was no proof―only the woman’s word. Douno continued to plead not guilty. He figured in this situation there was no way he could be charged: after the 20-day detention period was up, he would be set free to go home. Or so he thought.<br />
<p>On the last day of his detention, Douno was slapped with a conviction. He felt the world go dark before his eyes. He applied for bail numerous times, but was turned down. He spent the year and a half until the announcement of his guilty verdict in his detention cell. In his small, five-square-metre room, he thought endlessly about what he had done to deserve this.<br />
<p>Douno was ultimately given a two-year sentence. Because of his persistent, staunch refusal, he was deemed “showing no signs of remorse” and was not favoured by the judge. What was more, the woman had testified that Douno molested her almost every day, adding “repeat offender” and “premeditated and malevolent” to Douno’s judgement. As a result, Douno was not given a suspension on his sentence despite being a first-time offender. Pre-sentencing detention days―the period of time kept in detention until the sentence is finalized―were usually deducted from the total sentence, but only eighty per cent was applied to Douno’s, leaving about ten months of prison time.<br />
<p>“Why don’t we acknowledge the crime?” Douno’s attorney had suggested when he had been charged. According to the lawyer, once Douno was charged, there was almost no chance that he would be found innocent. If Douno kept up his denial, his sentence would only get more severe.<br />
<p>“I understand you want to fight because you’re innocent, Mr. Douno. But this is reality. Yes, you’ll be lying if you acknowledge the crime―but you’ll get a sentence suspension. You’ll be able to get out of the detention centre.”<br />
<p>Douno refused to assent, and it was partly from stubbornness. He had come this far―how could he bring himself to back down now? Once his sentence was passed, Douno thought of killing himself. He had been fired from work, imprisoned in a confined space for a year and a half, and now been slapped with a criminal record. Just because on that day, at that time, he had happened to board a crowded train.... If he had actually been guilty, at least he would have been able to resign himself to his crime.<br />
<p>The peal of a bell echoed throughout the factory.<br />
<p>“Stop working! Line up!”<br />
<p>At the orders, the sewing machines stopped drumming at once. All the inmates lined up on the walkway for roll call.<br />
<p>“Number 145, Douno,” barked a guard on the podium. Douno flinched as his spine tensed. He slowly turned around.<br />
<p>“Line up behind Section 3 and go to the cafeteria. Section 3 head, Shiba! Raise your hand!”<br />
<p>A bespectacled man in his mid-fifties standing to the very left snapped his right arm up.<br />
<p>“Go over there.”<br />
<p>Douno jogged towards the man who had put his hand up. He tripped over his feet and nearly fell over. His eyes met with the Section 3 head. The man grinned.<br />
<p>“Get behind the tall one over there,” he said. “You’ll be sitting beside him in the cafeteria, too.”<br />
<p>Douno fell in behind a man who looked closed to 190 centimetres in height. The line began to move immediately. Once they entered the cafeteria, all members sat down without a word. Douno also sat down as he was told, beside the tall man. At the signal from the factory guard, everyone began their meal at once. Today’s menu was stewed squid and white radish, fried eggs, spinach dressed in light broth, and barley rice. The seasoning was bland, and portions were small. Douno did not have an appetite, and put his chopsticks down before he was even halfway through. They were commanded to say, “thank you for the meal”, and that concluded lunch. Once the dirty dishes were deposited into the sinks, Douno’s surroundings erupted into chatter and noise from the TV. The silence of moments before seemed like a dream.<br />
<p>Some got out of their seats while others opened books, but Douno remained sitting at the table, his face turned slightly downwards at the dirty tabletop. Douno had been kept in his own cell at the detention centre, so apart from visitors, he hardly had the chance to speak to anyone. Back then, he did not care who it was―he was desperate just to talk to someone. But once he was here, that desire dissipated rapidly. Everyone seemed to have some unsavoury aspect to his face. But of course―the people here were “real criminals”.<br />
<p>“Hey!”<br />
<p>Douno raised his head at the call, which belonged to a horse-faced man in his forties with a lazy eye who had sat across from him.<br />
<p>“Case of first-day nerves, huh? Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it.”<br />
<p>Douno was painfully aware of the obvious attention he was drawing from those around him. Back at the factory, they had all seemed so disinterested.<br />
<p>“How old are you, by the way?”<br />
<p>Douno could smell the other man’s bad breath, even though they were far apart. He unconsciously knitted his brow at the odour of rotting fish.<br />
<p>“I’m thirty.”<br />
<p>“I see,” the man murmured. “And what’d you do?”<br />
<p>“...I didn’t do anything,” Douno answered in a small voice. The man laughed.<br />
<p>“You had to have done <i>something</i> to be thrown in here! What? Theft? Drugs?”<br />
<p>“I’ve been wrongly accused.”<br />
<p>“Huh?” The man grimaced.<br />
<p>“I’m wrongly accused. I’m innocent.”<br />
<p>There was a moment of silence, but before long the chatter soon resumed.<br />
<p>“Oh, right, okay,” muttered the man with the lazy eye. Then, with a palm to his forehead, he chuckled. “Heh heh,” he said, his shoulders shaking. “You must have some weird preferences to get yourself into jail when you haven’t done anything.”<br />
<p>Vulgar hoots and laughter erupted from around him. Douno looked down at the table. He balled his hands into fists in his lap. Two or three more people came to talk to him after that, but Douno put his head down on the table and pretended he was asleep.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Douno was placed into group cell 306, a five-person cell. It was about twelve square metres in area, with toilet in the far right corner sectioned off by glass on the top half, and a simple stainless-steel sink on the left. There were small shelves on the wall along with towel hangers for each resident. Each person’s futon was folded and placed along the walls, with pyjamas and sheets folded pristinely on top.<br />
<p>Shiba, who had introduced himself as the head of Section 3 at the factory, was also in the same cell. Work ended at 16:20, followed by roll call. They returned to the cell and took roll call again before going for dinner. They were able to take a breather from their minute schedule only after dinner was over, around 17:30.<br />
<p>Douno’s seat beside the tall man at the long, rectangular collapsible table became his “usual spot”. Even during free time, they were scolded by the guard if they were caught walking around the cell aimlessly or lying down. This had also been the same for Douno when he was at the detention centre.<br />
<p>What surprised Douno when he entered the cell was that it was equipped with a television set, which he did not have at the detention centre. He had seen a TV in the dining hall, but had not expected to see one in the cell as well.<br />
<p>“Douno,” called a voice. He turned around. “TV time starts at nineteen o’clock,” said Shiba with a grin, which made his eyes crinkle behind his spectacles.<br />
<p>“I’m sure you’ve already heard the basics from the caretaker and the guard in charge, but if there’s something you need help with, you just ask me. I’m the section head at the factory, but we take turns being the head of the cell. That changes every week. As for where you’ll sleep, you’ll be beside the toilet. It’ll stink, but all the newcomers start there. You don’t have to worry, though―in a week, your spot will be shifted along with everyone else. Anything else... well, just make sure you don’t cause trouble for anyone else. And don’t get in trouble and get points deducted. We’ll lose TV privileges.”<br />
<p>Douno said he understood.<br />
<p>“I’ll introduce myself while I’m at it. I’m Shiba, head of Section 3 at the factory, and head of the cell for this week. The tall guy beside you is Kitagawa. He’s the youngest in our cell―twenty eight, I think.”<br />
<p>The man whom Shiba called Kitagawa had a face as expressionless as a Noh mask. Only his eyes moved slightly to glance at Douno. His attitude seemed to say he was not interested in the newcomer.<br />
<p>“I’m Mitsuhashi,” said the man sitting across from Kitagawa. He looked in this early thirties, about the same age as Douno. “I’ll be out on parole before the year is out. It’ll be short, but I hope we can get to know each other.” He smiled good-naturedly. He was a round-faced and sociable man, with a mild demeanour and kind countenance. If it weren’t for his shaved head and prison uniform, he would not look like a prisoner at all.<br />
<p>“And the guy beside Mitsuhashi is Kumon.”<br />
<p>He turned out to be the man with the lazy eye who had said Douno had weird tastes in the cafeteria.<br />
<p>“How long’s your sentence?” Kumon asked suddenly. Douno did not want to answer him, but he felt like it would be a wise idea not to start any conflicts off the bat with his cellmate.<br />
<p>“Ten months,” he said reluctantly.<br />
<p>“Ten months?” repeated Kumon, narrowing his already-squinty eyes. “A piss sentence, then.”<br />
<p>Douno tilted his head to the side, not quite understanding him.<br />
<p>“That’s what we call short sentences under one year,” Mitsuhashi explained kindly.<br />
<p>“You said something about false charges at lunch, but you’re in this joint, so there’s gotta be beef with your name on it.”<br />
<p>Everything about the way Kumon talked irritated him. He tried not to let it show on his face.<br />
<p>“Indecent assault,” Douno answered calmly.<br />
<p>“I see. Guess you aren’t as decent as you look, making moves on women, huh,” Kumon spat, clicking his tongue. Douno hastily explained himself.<br />
<p>“No, it’s not what you think. I was mistaken for molesting her.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but―” Mitsuhashi butted in. “This is your first offence, right, Douno? Isn’t a full sentence kind of harsh for a first-time indecent assault? Don’t they usually give you a suspension?”<br />
<p>“I was dismissed for final appeal at the Supreme Court.”<br />
<p>“Wow,” Mitsuhashi said with wide eyes. “Supreme Court for molestation? Couldn’t you have settled out of court for something like that?”<br />
<p>It was too late for anything now. Douno bowed his head and stared at the knots in the wooden table. All the time spent in the detention centre; exorbitant legal fees―and his guilty verdict, which had put it all to waste. If this was what had been waiting for him, he could have lied and admitted to the crime from the beginning. Then, he would have been let off with a 30,000 yen fine and a summary offence and been set free within the day. He would not have had to burden his parents and younger sister with trouble, and he would not have had to quit his job. ―His heart ached. The year and a half he had endured, believing in his innocence, had been akin to garbage.<br />
<p>“Well, a lot of things happen in life. You have to think of it as a lesson and put up with it.”<br />
<p>Douno felt a twinge of irritation at Shiba’s matter-of-fact tone. <i>What “lesson”?</i> he thought. There was no “learning” in being jailed with other criminals, living a life choked with rules and monotonous, menial tasks. There was only humiliation.<br />
<p>Suddenly overcome with nausea, Douno dashed into the washroom. As he expected, he threw up his entire dinner. He rinsed his mouth at the sink. The back of his throat burned. <i>I want to be alone, I want to be alone...</i> but here, he could not even get that. He wanted to lie down, but since it was not yet rest period, he would be reprimanded by the guard if he was spotted. Douno sat at his “usual spot” on the floor cushion at the table, and put his head down.<br />
<p>“Hey, you alright?” Shiba said to him.<br />
<p>“Fine,” Douno replied abruptly without raising his head.<br />
<p>“Are you not feeling well?”<br />
<p>“No, it’s... I think I’m just tired.” Douno continued to sit still with his head down on the table. Eventually people stopped approaching him. There was a burning ache in the lower part of his stomach. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes.<br />
<p>“Say, isn’t Taoka almost out on parole? I was wondering why the guy was swinging his dick in my face yesterday in the showers, and it turns out he got more beads in. I wonder how the guy can do it.” It was Kumon’s voice.<br />
<p>“But his dick is freaking full of them. They look like grapes, it’s disgusting,” Mitsuhashi said lazily.<br />
<p>“No complaints, as long as they’re as good to eat as grapes,” Shiba remarked to laughter from everyone else. Douno thought only the yakuza beaded their penises. Topics that had never been discussed in his life were discussed daily here. He felt weary already.<br />
<p>“Why’s Taoka in here again?” Mitsuhashi asked.<br />
<p>“Murder,” Kumon said nonchalantly. <i>Murder.</i> The word made Douno’s heart jump. He lifted his head.<br />
<p>“The woman he was cheating with got a boyfriend, and he beat him to death, I think,” Shiba added while rubbing his chin.<br />
<p>“Isn’t his sentence pretty light, then? Four... five years, right?” Mitsuhashi looked unconvinced as he furrowed his brow.<br />
<p>“It was manslaughter. He told them some crazy story about how he only meant to punish the guy with a few punches, but the guy ended up dying on his own. I guess that must have gotten through,” Shiba said.<br />
<p>“Ah, I see,” Mitsuhashi murmured in reply. “Four or five years for killing someone. That’s pretty light.”<br />
<p>Douno was struck by fear. Murder was unthinkable. It was unthinkable, and yet here they were, talking about it normally. An electronic sound issued from the room’s PA speaker which sounded a lot like a school bell. Everyone stopped chatting at once and began to put away the table and floor cushions. The futons were laid out, and Douno hastily changed into his pyjamas, feeling rushed as everyone else began to change around him. As for his prison uniform, he imitated the person beside him and folded it neatly and placed it at the head of his futon.<br />
<p>The futon itself carried a unique smell of sweat and body odour. Since he was beside the toilet, there was also the strong smell of excrement. The TV was turned on, but there were only talk shows on. The laughter annoyed him, but he could not bring himself to ask for the TV to be turned off.<br />
<p>Douno lay stock-still on his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow. He felt a sense of futility creeping up from his feet. What was he doing sleeping here, mixed in with real criminals in this stinking, noisy place?<br />
<p>He had done nothing wrong. He had never been late or absent throughout middle and high school, and had gotten awards for his perfect attendance. In university, he was in a volunteer group that helped poor Ethiopian children. Even after he began working at the city hall, he had only been absent for one day when his cold had gotten out of hand. He had been decent and proper in everything he did. Through what fault of his did he have to end up here? Did he simply have to write everything off as “bad luck”?<br />
<p>Music came on to mark lights out, and the TV was turned off. The room went dark. Ten minutes had not yet passed, and Douno could hear someone grinding his teeth. Even if he plugged his ears, he could hear it. He tossed and turned in irritation, and gave a short sigh before looking to his side. His eyes met with the man beside him. Douno felt a bolt of fear at the man’s eyes, which looked like they were glittering in the dark. It was Kitagawa, the youngest man in the cell. Kitagawa extended his fist towards Kumon, the source of the tooth-grinding, and slammed it on the <i>tatami</i> floor close to his head. The deafening grinding ceased instantly. This seemed to be the usual remedy.<br />
<p>“Th-Thank you,” Douno stammered. Kitagawa promptly turned his face the other way, with not so much as a polite smile of affirmation. Once the tooth-grinding stopped, the smell of the toilet began to bother him again. This was Douno’s first day in a group cell, in prison―and he could not sleep a wink.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>They rose at 06:40. They promptly changed, folded their futons, and got started on cleaning. Douno had heard that cleaning duties changed weekly. As a newcomer, however, he was assigned the toilet. He felt a sense of irony, cleaning, red-eyed, the source of his sleeplessness.<br />
<p>Cleaning was followed by roll call, then breakfast. They wolfed their meals down in five minutes or so, then brushed their teeth. An announcement to “begin heading out” was made, and shortly their guard in charge came to unlock the cell and give the “head out” call. They went out into the hallway and lined up. They were forbidden from speaking to each other as they walked silently in rows of two. Before they entered the factory, they stripped down to their underwear at the physical inspection station and walked past the watching personnel before entering the next room to change into their factory uniforms. Once inside the factory, they went through roll call again, then did a strange exercise called “ceiling-raising” before getting down to work.<br />
<p>Douno was assigned the task of sewing the lining which had already been basted into place. Even though his section head had just taught him the day before, Douno could not recall the proper order to thread his sewing machine. In a situation like this, he knew he just had to request instruction. Wondering where section head Shiba was, Douno turned to look behind him when suddenly he was blasted by a yell.<br />
<p>“Hey, you!” Douno’s whole body seized up. The guard in charge of the factory was in front of him in an instant. “What the hell were you doing?” the guard demanded, his face livid. “No glancing around during work hours!”<br />
<p>“Oh, I... wanted to... the section head... to r-request instruction...” Douno’s voice dwindled to a whisper at the guard’s yelling and intimidating aura. The guard twitched one eye.<br />
<p>“You’re new,” he remarked.<br />
<p>“Yes, sir.”<br />
<p>“You’re forbidden from looking at anything other than your work at the factory. If you wish to request instruction, you are to raise your hand and speak up.”<br />
<p>“Yes, sir...”<br />
<p>“Section 3 Head, request for instruction!” barked the guard. Shiba went up to the manager’s station to pick up a Work Instruction card before coming to Douno’s work station.<br />
<p>“I... I couldn’t remember how to thread...” Douno’s fingertips and voice were trembling in the after-effects of being reprimanded.<br />
<p>“Threading, alright,” Shiba repeated, and slowly threaded the machine for him. “I remember you said yesterday it was your first time touching a sewing machine. It’ll be tough until you get used to it, but take your time and make sure you do it neatly. If your stitching is crooked or off the mark, you can take out the stitches and start over.”<br />
<p>Douno resumed his work after Shiba left. All he had to do was sew along the basting stitches―he knew that, but his fingertips continued to tremble. He was afraid he would sew his fingers along with the fabric. He gritted his teeth and stepped on the electric pedal. His sewing sped up and slowed down erratically as he tried to get a feel for the pedal.<br />
<p>In the end, his stitches ended up snaking along the seam and he was forced to take them out. No matter how many times he tried, he could not sew along the basted seam. He grew more irritated with each time he had to undo his stitches. Why did he have to sew, anyway? Why did the thread tangle so easily? Why was it so hard to take out? Douno suppressed the urge to throw the cloth aside, and continued to meticulously undo the tangled thread.<br />
<p>“Stop working! Line up!” Douno raised his head at the call. Everyone around him sprang up, and Douno fumbled his way after them down to the hallway. It was already noon. He had not been able to complete a single piece that morning.<br />
<p>Once lunch was over, Douno approached the bookshelf at the back of the cafeteria. He felt like if he just sat absent-mindedly, people would start approaching him. He recalled the incident yesterday, when Kumon had commented on his “weird preferences”. If that was how people thought of him, whether it was only a few or the vast majority, he did not want to talk to anyone anymore. Most of the books in the bookshelf were so worn and tattered that even a second-hand bookstore would probably refuse to take them. Douno extracted a dust-covered volume from the bottom shelf. As he opened it, the cover tore away from the rest of the book and hung limply.<br />
<p>“Douno.”<br />
<p>He turned around to see Shiba behind him.<br />
<p>“How’s the work coming along?”<br />
<p>“...Not very well.”<br />
<p>“It takes a while to get used to the sewing machine,” Shiba smiled wryly. His eyes flitted to the disintegrated book in Douno’s hands. “You like reading?”<br />
<p>“Well, I suppose.”<br />
<p>“You look like someone who would. The type with the brains.”<br />
<p>Shiba had probably spoken to him out of kindness, but Douno could not help but feel like there was sarcasm in the way he said “with the brains”.<br />
<p>“I don’t have much else to do here,” he replied brusquely.<br />
<p>A queer expression crossed Shiba’s face for an instant before he was called away. Douno felt relieved to be alone again. Shiba was a criminal. Everyone here, other than him, had done something bad. <i>I’m the only decent one here</i>, Douno thought.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>One day in the beginning of October, after the last vestiges of summer had faded and one could feel a faint chill in the mornings, Douno’s younger sister, Tomoko, came for a visit. It was their first meeting after Douno was put in prison. Tomoko’s face looked thinner through the plexiglas.<br />
<p>“How are mom and dad?” Douno asked. Tomoko’s cheeks tensed slightly.<br />
<p>“Mom is in the hospital with a stomach ulcer,” she mumbled, her eyes fixed downwards. “I think the exhaustion was getting to her. But she’s going to be discharged soon. Don’t worry. She was telling me how she wanted to come along today.”<br />
<p>Douno clenched his hands tightly in his lap. His mother was a kind, free-handed and energetic woman. For her to get a stomach ulcer―was it from stress? It was a blow to him.<br />
<p>“How are you?” Tomoko said. “They’re not giving you a hard time?”<br />
<p>“I’m fine. I’m doing alright.”<br />
<p>“That’s good,” said his sister with a breath of relief. “I wanted to tell you something. Mom, dad, and I, we’ve discussed this already. We’re going to move out of the house in two months.”<br />
<p>“What?” Douno cried.<br />
<p>“Mom and dad are going to grandma’s place in Fukushima. I have my job, so I’m going to rent an apartment here.”<br />
<p>“Wh―Why are you moving? Dad hasn’t even hit retirement yet.”<br />
<p>Tomoko lowered her eyes.<br />
<p>“He hasn’t, but he’s going to quit.”<br />
<p>A short silence. Douno finally put into words what he had been fearing all along.<br />
<p>“...It’s my fault, isn’t it.”<br />
<p>“No!” his sister insisted. “This is none of your fault. We all believe your innocence, but people in the neighbourhood like to gossip.”<br />
<p>“But that’s almost like running away,” Douno protested.<br />
<p>His sister hung her head. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I know it must be the hardest for you out of all of us. I know―<i>we</i> know―but mom and dad and I are tired. It’s been painful having to put up with what people say...”<br />
<p>The familiar image of his home revived in the back of Douno’s mind. Their father had bought the house when Douno was in fourth grade. They had only finished paying off their mortgage two years ago. Douno’s father had laughed and said his house was finally his own. They had lived in and grown familiar with that house. But now it could be someone else’s by the time Douno got out of prison.<br />
<p>He had lost his job, his freedom, and brought trouble upon his family; now, to top it off, he was losing a place full of memories. He had lost whatever one could lose in a year and a half―trust, moral virtue―he did not expect he could be stripped of anything more. But here he was.<br />
<p>“I’ve already decided on an apartment,” said his sister brightly. “It has a loft. They’ve gone out of style, supposedly, but it’s always been my dream to live in one.”<br />
<p>Tomoko’s tone was carefree. Even though she was surely in a lot of pain herself, she was keeping the conversation light out of consideration for him. Douno made an effort not to be gloomy in the face of her kindness.<br />
<p>“You didn’t have to rent a place. Why didn’t you just move in with Yasuoka?”<br />
<p>Douno had meant to tease her, but Tomoko’s face turned rigid. About a month before Douno had been arrested, a man called Yasuoka came to ask for Tomoko’s hand in marriage. Both Douno and his parents were overjoyed. They had been discussing betrothal gifts and the wedding day when Douno was caught. Once he was arrested, he was too occupied with his own troubles to have the time or energy to think about his sister.<br />
<p>“Right... about that. It fell through,” his sister brushed it off lightly. “I guess we just weren’t compatible. It happens, right?”<br />
<p><i>Was it really because you weren’t compatible?</i> Douno wanted to ask, but could not bring himself to. He was afraid to ask. Before long, their fifteen-minute meeting time was up, and Tomoko left him with underwear, socks, and money before going home.<br />
<p>After returning to the factory, Douno found it difficult to concentrate on his work. The move, his mother’s hospitalization, his sister’s broken engagement... the topics cycled through his head in order. The incident had not only involved him; it had also involved and ruined the people around him.<br />
<p>If only he had not gotten on the train that day. If only he had not stood behind the woman that day. If only he had listened to the detective and opted for a settlement out of court. If only he had lied and admitted to the crime, paid the 30,000 yen penalty and apologized....<br />
<p>He had believed in justice, believed that someday they would understand that he was right. He had believed and fought in court until the end―but what meaning did it all have now? He had stuck faithfully to his belief that he was right, and in exchange he had been given a criminal record for indecent assault and ten months of life in prison.<br />
<p>His foot stopped over the pedal. He wished someone would tell him if he was wrong somehow. If he had committed such a crime that he deserved this situation, he wished someone would explain the what it was to him. Bitterness filled his heart, and his eyelids burned. In an effort to keep himself from crying, he gritted his teeth and stepped on the pedal.<br />
<p>He immersed himself in the rhythmical <i>dut-dut-dut</i> noise of the sewing machine, and for a fleeting instant he wished he could die.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Their lunch break was twenty minutes long. It was shorter than usual because they had an exercise period later. Almost all of Douno’s meal was left untouched. The meeting with his sister had made him think about a lot of things, which weighed down on his chest and made him unable to eat.<br />
<p>After their lunch break, all of the sewing factory workers were let out into the grounds. After some simple exercises, they dispersed and were free to spend their time however they liked. Some played softball while others cheered them on; some began to do push-ups silently on their own; others stood around and exchanged rumours. Douno joined none of those groups, and instead picked a sunny spot near the wall and sat down by himself. In his early days he had been invited out to play softball as well, but Douno declined with the excuse that he was bad at sports. It was true that he was bad, but his honest reason was that he did not want to socialize with other inmates.<br />
<p>In an environment where talks of theft and drugs were but casual conversation, Douno felt like his own standards of what was right and what was wrong would begin to go astray. He felt like he would be influenced by those “bad things” and lose his perception of normality.<br />
<p>In the evenings after supper, he immersed himself in the books he borrowed from the cafeteria until lights-out. He never spoke unless to answer a question, and he never initiated a conversation. Even if he never said outright that he wanted nothing to do with them, he probably exuded that kind of aura; even Shiba and Kumon, who made a point to talk to him about anything, stopped approaching him. When interaction ceased, so did the flow of information. It had been almost a month now since Douno first entered this group cell, but he had no idea about what kind of crimes his cellmates were imprisoned for, or how long their sentences were. In prison, inmates called themselves "sentence servers", which he had no idea about until recently.<br />
<p>“What’re you up to?” The voice belonged to Mitsuhashi, from the same cell.<br />
<p>“Not much.”<br />
<p>Mitsuhashi sat himself down beside Douno with a grunt. “Nice weather, isn’t it?” he grinned.<br />
<p>“It is,” Douno answered cautiously, wondering why the man was sitting beside him.<br />
<p>“You alright?” Mitsuhashi said without warning. <br />
<p>“What do you mean?”<br />
<p>“Well, you seemed kind of strange after your meeting. I wondered if you were okay.”<br />
<p>Douno was alarmed at the man’s sharp observation.<br />
<p>“A lot of people break down after meetings. As long as you’re willing, I’m right here to listen,” Mitsuhashi said. “Oh, but you don’t have to force yourself,” he added. “You know that I’ll be out on parole soon, right? But there’s something that makes me want to watch out for you, you know... well, because...”<br />
<p>His tone was muddled, as if he had something stuck between his teeth.<br />
<p>“Ah, damnit,” he muttered as he raked a hand over the back of his head. “To tell you the truth, I’m actually falsely accused too. But I haven’t told anyone here.”<br />
<p>Douno widened his eyes in surprise.<br />
<p>“If I spoke up that I was innocent, people would only be annoyed with me. That’s why I didn’t say anything. And that’s why I thought you were courageous for what you did.”<br />
<p>“What did you get caught for, Mitsuhashi?” Douno couldn’t help but lean forward to listen.<br />
<p>“How do I say this? I guess he set me up―my acquaintance, I mean. We both agreed on our transaction, but he went and filed a complaint with the police. You know how the police take the victim’s word as gospel, right? They didn’t listen to a word I had to say. I was convicted for fraud.”<br />
<p>Douno vividly recalled his own experience: the detective who had refused to listen, no matter how many times he had said he did not do it; the report, based entirely on the victim’s word and created conveniently in the victim’s favour. “Say if you’re on a train,” he had been told, “and you saw this young and beautiful lady in front of you. You wouldn’t feel bad about it, would you?”<br />
<p>“I guess not,” Douno had replied, figuring it was only small talk. But on the report, it was written, “A young woman came to stand in front of me, and I had a good feeling about her”. This kind of crudely-written report had wielded absolute power in court.<br />
<p>“I just thought about how much you were like me, and I couldn’t leave you alone,” Mitsuhashi said. “Your sentence is short. I want you to hang in there and not lose faith in yourself.”<br />
<p>Douno felt warmth rising from deep inside his chest. He had never imagined that someone would understand him so well. Unable to restrain himself, Douno spoke vehemently about how he had been mistaken as a molester, and what kind of investigations and court hearings he went through to get where he was now. He spoke passionately enough that his palms were sweaty by the time he finished. Then, Douno finally realized that he had wanted to be understood. He had wanted someone to relate to his feelings. He had wanted someone to listen.<br />
<p>Douno slumped as he stared vacantly into the distance, having expended all his energy on his story. Mitsuhashi lightly patted his shoulder. Douno cried a little, from the sense of release and comfort from spitting out all the unpleasantness that had accumulated inside him. For the first time since getting into prison, he felt like he had met someone who truly understood him.<br />
<p>Douno quickly grew close to Mitsuhashi. Once he knew that Mitsuhashi was falsely accused like he was―that he had not committed a crime―he could talk to him at ease, without having to be on guard. Once he had the chance to talk to Mitsuhashi, Douno realized they shared many of the same feelings.<br />
<p>“I go along with everyone because I don’t want to isolate myself, but in truth I’m sick and tired of listening to people talk about stealing and drugs,” he heard Mitsuhashi admit one day.<br />
<p>“I feel the same way,” Douno found himself blurting in agreement. Although he had not noticed from talking to the other sentence servers, Mitsuhashi was actually well-versed in a wide range of things. He said he could speak English and Chinese from running a trading company.<br />
<p>Thus, by the time their scheduled haircuts rolled around in the beginning of November, Douno had made a friend he could open his heart to and was finally getting used to everyday life in the cell. Haircuts were given every twenty days, and this was Douno’s third.<br />
<p>Douno woke up feeling glum on haircut days. He hated how they all came out with shaved heads, looking like middle-school boys. He felt like it was their trademark as inmates. The shave was always the topic of conversation in the evening after their haircuts―who got a close shave, whose hair was left relatively long; who looked good, who looked bad. As the men around him repeated the same maddening conversation over and over, Douno sat by himself reading a borrowed book. All the books had been exchanged with those of the factory next door the day before yesterday. Douno was drawn to the newer books and had trouble deciding on which one to read, but ended up picking a decade-old bestseller.<br />
<p>“I wonder why old man Tomi always does the haircuts? They should choose someone with a little more skill,” grumbled Kumon as he wrinkled his nose in a scowl. He had had to use his own shaver to even out his asymmetrical sideburns.<br />
<p>“The guards probably figure no one would make a fuss with old man Tomi,” said Shiba. “I heard a brawl broke out before over a bad haircut. If it was a young one cutting my hair, I’d have no qualms about giving him a piece of my mind. But picking a fight with an old geezer who can barely stand―well, that would just give you bad rep.” He rubbed his head with a wry smile. “But my haircut could have been better.”<br />
<p>“Kitagawa’s the lucky guy this time. It’s cut straight, too.” Kumon mussed Kitagawa’s hair with a rough hand. Kitagawa narrowed his eyes with an annoyed look but said nothing.<br />
<p>“Maybe he’s easier to shave because his head is a nice shape,” murmured Mitsuhashi. His eyes met with Douno’s. “So’s your head, Douno,” he said. Mitsuhashi leaned over the table to stroke Douno’s hair.<br />
<p>“Whoa, your hair’s really soft! Is it naturally like that?”<br />
<p>“Stop it, it tickles,” Douno laughed. Mitsuhashi laughed a little, too. Douno suddenly felt a pairs of eyes on him. As he turned, his eyes met with Kitagawa’s. Those frighteningly expressionless eyes remained fixed on him. Just as Douno wondered what the man could want, Kitagawa’s gaze flitted away.<br />
<p>Then day after was bathing day. Bathing times varied, but when Douno was allotted a time later in the day, he would sometimes see grime floating in the bath water, to his disgust. Luckily, today he was bathing early and the water was clean. In the short fifteen minutes of bath time he was given, he quickly washed his body and hair, and sank into the bath. In reality, he was only able to soak for about five minutes before the guard gave him the signal to get out. He stepped out and made for the change room.<br />
<p>“Liar,” said a voice as Douno was towelling off his hair with his head down. He looked up to see Kitagawa standing beside him. A pair of expressionless eyes looked down at Douno.<br />
<p>“Mitsuhashi,” Kitagawa said, then turned his face away. Douno cocked his head in perplexity at the cryptic message from a man he barely exchanged words with. Did he mean that Mitsuhashi was a liar? But Mitsuhashi was a good person, and not the type to lie. The man had gotten a refrain-from-bathing order today because he was feeling under the weather. It was almost as if Kitagawa had waited for a chance to speak when Mitsuhashi was not around. It bothered Douno slightly, but not very much; by the time he returned to the cell, he had forgotten all about it.<br />
<p>The next day was exercise day. As usual, Douno sat with Mitsuhashi against the wall and stared absent-mindedly at the inmates playing softball.<br />
<p>“Did Kitagawa...”<br />
<p>“What?” Mitsuhashi asked him.<br />
<p>“What did Kitagawa do?”<br />
<p>“You mean what was he charged for?”<br />
<p>Douno nodded slightly. Mitsuhashi looked like he knew, but was hesitating to put it into words.<br />
<p>“You know, don’t you?”<br />
<p>“I didn’t have to ask him personally―rumours are always coming in. What? Are you curious about him?”<br />
<p>“Well, kind of,” Douno said awkwardly. “The other day, he said ‘liar’ to me. Then, afterwards he said ‘Mitsuhashi’, so it’s been bothering me a bit.”<br />
<p>“What, so he’s saying I’m a liar?” Sensing sharpness creeping into Mitsuhashi’s voice, Douno feared that he had insulted the man.<br />
<p>“No, that’s not what I meant,” he said hastily. “It’s just... I’ve never talked with Kitagawa much. So when he said that to me out of the blue...”<br />
<p>“Douno,” Mitsuhashi said gravely. “You should be careful about Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>“Be careful?”<br />
<p>“He’s quiet and doesn’t talk much, but he’s a troublemaker. I hear he snaps suddenly and flies into a rage. Rumour has it he’s been put in solitary confinement so many times that he can’t even get out on parole anymore.”<br />
<p>Kitagawa always seemed like the cool and disinterested type. Douno could not imagine him flying into a rage.<br />
<p>“I don’t want to trash-talk my fellow cellmate, but you shouldn’t be involved with him. He’s not someone you wanna deal with. When there’s someone he doesn’t like, he snitches to the guard in charge. I know a bunch of people who’ve been thrown into solitary because Kitagawa ratted on them. He’s frustrated because he won’t get parole, so he goes around trying to take away everyone else’s parole, too.”<br />
<p><i>Lose my chance for parole? No way in hell am I doing that</i>, Douno thought. A loud crack echoed in the air. The ball made a sweeping arc in the sky and disappeared into the distance. The batter was Kitagawa, and he broke into a run. As he made his leisurely way back to home base, Shiba and Kumon clapped him on the shoulders. He looked like he was enjoying himself.<br />
<p>“You know, when you’re just sitting here like this, don’t you sometimes wonder if we’re really prisoners?” Mitsuhashi murmured. “Even if they’ve killed people, there they are, still eating, sleeping, playing softball and laughing.”<br />
<p>The word “murder” crossed Douno’s mind. His eyes met with Mitsuhashi, and the man pointed at the tall man with the expressionless face.<br />
<p>“This prison used to house mostly long-term inmates, but since the number of people with short sentences increased, they started letting those in too. Now this place is a mix of both. Our Factory 8 is mostly full of short-term people, but once in a while you get long-term ones like Kitagawa.”<br />
<p>Douno had figured there would be people who had killed before―it was a prison, after all―but he had not expected to find out that such a man was in the same cell, sleeping right beside him.<br />
<p>“I didn’t hear this directly from him,” Mitsuhashi continued, “but they say he didn’t just stab the person once―he did it over and over.”<br />
<p>The sun’s rays were warm, yet Douno felt as if he had been thrown into ice water.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>Once past mid-November, the chill in the mornings and evenings became harder to bear. There were heaters in the cell, but had supposedly never been touched since Mitsuhashi came in. Douno was prone to feeling cold as it was; the idea that it was just going to get colder put him into a glum mood.<br />
<p>It was a chilly day, and had been raining since morning. Douno was called out by Mitsuhashi at lunch break and taken to a corner of the bookshelves in the cafeteria.<br />
<p>“It looks like I can get out the day after tomorrow. Someone from the statistics factory gave me the news,” he whispered. “Starting tomorrow, I’ll be put into a solitary cell and I’ll be forbidden to leave it. So it looks like today will be my last day working with you, Douno.”<br />
<p>A man he could confide everything in was leaving―the thought of it suddenly made Douno feel forlorn. His anxiety evidently showed on his face, for Mitsuhashi grinned wryly.<br />
<p>“If you get parole, you’ll be out in three or four months too, Douno. Hang in there.”<br />
<p>In all honesty, Douno could not say he was happy to hear of his friend’s release. He reproached himself for feeling this way.<br />
<p>“All the best when you get out,” he said anyway. Mitsuhashi glanced around as if to gauge the people around him, then brought his lips to Douno’s ear.<br />
<p>“I can’t say this very loudly, but I’ve been thinking of doing this for a long time. I actually think there are a lot of us out there who’ve been falsely charged. I’ve been thinking of gathering people who’ve suffered like us, and filing a lawsuit against the country. Douno, will you fight this with me when you get out?”<br />
<p>A battle to prove his innocence―something stirred inside Douno’s heart. The fate he had resigned himself to was slowly beginning to change.<br />
<p>“I―I’d like to fight with you.”<br />
<p>Mitsuhashi grinned.<br />
<p>“I knew you’d say you would. This kind of pain can only be understood by those who’ve gone through it. I’ll be waiting for you outside the fence.”<br />
<p>Douno told Mitsuhashi the address of his parents’ home. When he asked Mitsuhashi for his address, the man gave a sheepish smile and said he did not have an arrangement yet for when he got out of prison.<br />
<p>“Once March rolls around, I’ll contact your family’s house. Until then, I’ll get the lawsuit ready.”<br />
<p>Mitsuhashi had remained a reliable friend right up until his last days in prison. He was transferred to a solitary cell the next day, and on the day following he was released from prison. Douno felt as if he had been left behind, but Mitsuhashi had given him a goal to live. Before, he had no plans for when he got out of prison. But now, Douno felt he could endure any hardship in order to fight the evil that had wronged him.<br />
<br />
<br />
<p>The day after Mitsuhashi was released, a new inmate called Kakizaki joined them. He was young―twenty-seven―and his crime was illegal possession of drugs. His sentence was two years. Kitagawa and Kakizaki were close in age, and for that reason, Kakizaki seemed to have taken a liking to Kitagawa. He took to calling Kitagawa "brother" and followed him around like the droppings trailing behind a goldfish. As for Kitagawa, he maintained disinterest and refused to get involved.<br />
<p>Kakizaki loved dirty talk, and constantly spoke about the form of the penis. His most boast-worthy feat was when he had sex for five straight days while high on stimulants. His profile carried no hint of intelligence as he spoke smugly of his deeds. What was more, he had a taste for men: he earned the dislike of his cellmates for approaching and propositioning them with the gravest of faces.<br />
<p>“You must be pretty frustrated. How about a round with me?” he had even suggested to Douno once. Douno did what everyone else did and ignored him. Kakizaki eventually stopped talking to him. In the showers, Douno sometimes spotted Kakizaki nearby with a flagrant erection, which made him sigh in exasperation.<br />
<p>Douno spent each day cautiously as to avoid a penalty that would influence his parole. If he kept it up, he would be able to get out on parole in mid-March of the next year.<br />
<p>His sentence was short―a mere “piss sentence”, as Kumon put it―so his class never rose above fourth. Inmates had classes ranging from first to fourth, and the higher classes were allowed frequent monthly meetings and letters. Douno, who was in fourth class, was given one meeting and one letter allowance a month.<br />
<p>One day in the beginning of December, Douno was called out by the factory manager in the middle of his sewing work. He was told that someone was here to meet him. Douno was not happy to receive the news. He did want to see his family, but once he thought about how much their lives had changed because of him, he felt ashamed to look them in the face. But he could not just turn them back after they had come so far. Douno made his way to the meeting room.<br />
<p>His mother was the only one there. Back at the detention centre, Douno had worn his own clothes for meetings, but here he was wearing his mouse-coloured factory uniform. He was the picture of a prisoner. He stared at his feet, ashamed that his mother had to see him like this.<br />
<p>“How are you?” Douno’s mother had clearly lost weight since he entered prison. “You’re not having a hard time?”<br />
<p><i>It’s cold inside our group cell. I’m afraid my own heart will turn black from being surrounded by all these people who’ve done something wrong. We have too much time to spare, and all I can think about is what I’m going through. Think, think, think, and it fills my chest with pain.</i><br />
<p>―But if he told the truth, he would only make her worry. Douno shook his head.<br />
<p>“I’m fine. But mom, how are you feeling yourself? I heard you collapsed.”<br />
<p>His mother’s eyes welled with tears as she pressed a handkerchief to the corners of her eyes.<br />
<p>“You poor thing... you poor thing. Look at you. But it’s alright. Everything will be alright now.”<br />
<p>Douno felt a nagging sensation at his mother intently repeating the words “it will be alright”.<br />
<p>“We asked Mr. Takamura to do anything in his power,” Douno’s mother. “Everything will be alright.”<br />
<p>“Mom, who’s Takamura?”<br />
<p>“Isn’t he your friend from university?”<br />
<p>Douno sifted through his memory, but did not remember anyone called Takamura.<br />
<p>“Mr. Takamura works for the metropolitan police department. He said he heard about you through someone else, and came all the way over to our house because he was worried about you. He said if he had known about this earlier, he would have found a way to deal with it. He took it very personally. How nice of him.”<br />
<p>Douno was not convinced. He did not know anyone called Takamura, and in university, he was in the Faculty of Science. No one in his faculty aimed to be employed by the police.<br />
<p>“Mr. Takamura said he knows seniors in the police department. He said he would ask them if they can arrange something for you. I gave him a token of gratitude. Everything will be alright.”<br />
<p>Douno flinched at the words “token of gratitude”.<br />
<p>“Mom, did you give him money?”<br />
<p>His mother nodded deeply. “This is for you, after all. He has to ask some very important people. We have to express our sincerity in some form, too.”<br />
<p>“I don’t know anyone called Takamura. Who is he? Mom, who did you give the money to?”<br />
<p>His mother’s thin face paled before his eyes.<br />
<p>“But... but he said you knew each other...”<br />
<p>“What was he like?” Douno pressed urgently.<br />
<p>According to his mother, Takamura was short and bespectacled. A little on the heavy side, he was far from good-looking. But he looked respectable because he was wearing a suit.<br />
<p>“Mr. Takamura knew which jail you were in. Everyone knows you’re in prison, but I haven’t told anyone which one. That’s why...”<br />
<p>“Mom, I’ve been convicted,” Douno said shortly. “Once the sentence is finalized, nothing will change it. Even if it turns out I was falsely charged. Talking to higher-ups isn’t going to do any good!”<br />
<p>“I―I didn’t know,” his mother protested weakly. Douno could see her hands clasped together so tightly that they were turning white.<br />
<p>“How much did you pay him? It’s not too late. I want you to file a complaint. I can’t believe you took his story seriously!” he exclaimed.<br />
<p>“We―we were only concerned for your good―”<br />
<p>“How much did you pay him?” Douno demanded.<br />
<p>“<acronym title="3,000,000 Japanese yen is approximately 30,300 USD.">Three million</acronym>,” his mother murmured in a trembling voice. “I talked to your father about this. But we decided that we would do it for you.”<br />
<p>His mother’s voice gradually faded into the distance. Douno felt a slight onslaught of dizziness, and pressed a hand to his forehead.<br />
<br />
<center>Continued in <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.com/2013/04/novel-in-box-in-box-pt-2.html">PART 2</a>.</center><br />
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* See the project page for <a href="http://9th-ave.blogspot.ca/p/test.html">In the Box (Hako no naka)</a>.9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-918770813486312113.post-47828833160885664302013-03-31T13:48:00.000-04:002013-04-14T00:42:33.189-04:00[Novel] NO. 6 Sidestory - Flowers for beautiful daysThis short story comes with the special edition volume 6 of the manga.<br />
Thank you to kat for the scans!<br />
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<center>SIDE STORY<br />
Flowers for beautiful days</center><br />
<br />
His hand stopped where it had extended to sort out the shelf.<br />
<p>“What’s this?” he found himself murmuring.<br />
<p>“Shion, you’ve worked hard enough. That’s fine for now, so take a break. I made some coffee. I also have some cookies, though they’re a bit stale.”<br />
<p>Rikiga was calling out to him with a tray in hand. Coffee and cookies were items that one hardly came across in the West Block.<br />
<p>A pleasing aroma filled the air.<br />
<p>“Hiring you was the best decision I ever made,” Rikiga said. “You do everything, from sorting out my bills to cleaning up the room. A worker like you is hard to come by.”<a name='more'></a><br />
<p>“I might not be so good as a bodyguard, though,” said Shion wryly.<br />
<p>“Rest assured, I’ll never give you a dangerous job like that. Dirty work is more suited for a certain third-rate actor.”<br />
<p>“Are you talking about Nezumi?”<br />
<p>“Who else could I be talking about? He’s the very man, a cunning, treacherous, and fraudulent bastard.”<br />
<p>“Harsh as always when it comes to Nezumi, aren’t you?”<br />
<p>“I have to be,” Rikiga said matter-of-factly. Once you let your guard down around a guy like him, he’ll suck you dry and gnaw at your bones. Now go on, your coffee’s going to get cold.”<br />
<p>“Oh, sorry. Thank you. What a treat. It’s been a while.”<br />
<p>“I can see you’re in rough times,” Rikiga said sympathetically. “If you’re willing, I’m more than happy to let you stay here. You’d have a much more decent life than if you lived with Eve.”<br />
<p>“No thank you... I’m fine.”<br />
<p>“Are you really satisfied?”<br />
<p>“Yes. Very much. Nowhere else is more comfortable for me than that basement room.”<br />
<p>“That room? Where there’s nothing but books?”<br />
<p>“Yes.”<br />
<p>It was a beautiful place. That place had everything. Several thousand volumes; vast amounts of knowledge; stories; words at times gentle, at times thorny; nonchalant conversation; secretive whispers; a trembling heart; new discoveries; piping hot soup; and beautiful deep grey eyes.<br />
<p>That room had all of the things that Shion desired.<br />
<p>Rikiga sighed.<br />
<p>“You’re not a greedy one, that’s for sure.”<br />
<p><i>Aren’t I? No one is greedier than I am. I’m sure no one desires another as strongly as I do.</i><br />
<p>“Isn’t there anything you want? I’ll do anything within my power.” Rikiga leaned forward.<br />
<p>“No, really, I don’t want any... oh, but―”<br />
<p>“Hm? What is it? Bread? Meat? Or a warm coat?”<br />
<p>“No, I... I was wondering if I could possibly see a play...”<br />
<p>“A play?”<br />
<p>“Yes. I’ve always wanted to see Nezumi perform onstage...”<br />
<p>Rikiga drew his chin back. “Eve’s performance, huh. I do remember the playhouse manager babbling on about premium tickets and whatnot. Hah, what a joke!”<br />
<p>“Would it be difficult?”<br />
<p>“Of course not!” Rikiga said crossly. “The manager and I are old friends. I can get a hundred tickets for the likes of Eve. Piece of cake.”<br />
<p>“Really, Rikiga-san?”<br />
<p>“Yes. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. You can even invite your friends along, too, ha ha ha! And besides, you know...” Rikiga cleared his throat awkwardly. “I guess you could say Eve’s performance is worth a look. It’s decent for a shoddy run-down place like this, I mean.”<br />
<p>“Can I bring Inukashi?”<br />
<p>“Of course, if that’s what you want to―what? Who?”<br />
<p>“I want to invite Inukashi along.”<br />
<p>“Why do I have to take a mongrel brat like him?”<br />
<p>“Inukashi’s my friend, and I don’t really have any other ones. Besides, Inukashi loves to hear Nezumi sing. I want to give him a chance to really enjoy it.”<br />
<p>“...Good god. It’s a bit too late to be saying this, Shion, but you haven’t exactly surrounded yourself with the best bunch. You should start getting yourself some decent friends.”<br />
<p>“Both you and Inukashi are the most interesting, wonderful people I’ve met, in my opinion,” Shion said firmly. It was his honest opinion. Those two were the kind of people he would never have met inside No. 6. They were the most interesting company he’d ever had.<br />
<p>“Like I said, don’t lump me in with the mutt. But, well, fine. I got it. I’ll take you and the dog.”<br />
<p>“Thank you. I’m really grateful, Rikiga-san.”<br />
<p>“Don’t worry about it. I just can’t seem to say no to you. Well, finish up that cookie. I’ll have a sandwich ready so you can take it home when you leave. Of course, that’s on top of the wages you’ll get. You don’t need to feel obliged; just think of it as a cleaning fee. This room looks a lot neater thanks to you.”<br />
<p>“Oh, which reminds me―” Shion showed him the cover of an old magazine he found on the shelf. There was a crowd of people on the cover and across the spread. A decked-out maiden; a youth wearing a feathered hat; an elderly woman wearing a silver shawl; an elderly man wrapped in a magnificently-embroidered cape; men, women, children. Everyone was smiling. Some were dancing; one had a stringed instrument in hand; another looked like he was singing. The photo was lively and joyous, yet faded with age.<br />
<p>“Oh, this is the Festival of Flowers,” Rikiga said.<br />
<p>“Festival of Flowers?”<br />
<p>“Yeah. We used to have this festival when this area was still a quaint, beautiful town. It took place when spring was at its finest. We prayed to the gods and thanked them for the blessings they’d bestow on the land.”<br />
<p>“Everyone looks like they’re having a great time. I couldn’t help but gaze at it.”<br />
<p>“You’re right. People back then still hadn’t forgotten their respect and gratitude to the gods. Oh, this brings back memories. A group of singers would come out from far away, just for that one festival. They sang a song for God in the most beautiful voices. There they are on the cover, the women decorated in flowers.”<br />
<p>“These women... where did they come from?”<br />
<p>“I’m not sure where. I remember hearing that they came from the deepest part of the woods, but I was never sure. They appeared for the festival, and were gone the next day. Come to think of it, they were strange people. But by the time No. 6’s wall was complete, the festival and the singing troupe were gone.”<br />
<p>Rikiga gave a hefty sigh. His gaze wandered the air as if searching for something. Shion looked at the beautiful singers in their white costumes and white ornamental flowers.<br />
<p>They looked like Nezumi somehow.<br />
<br />
<p>“Festival?”<br />
<p>Nezumi uncrossed his legs.<br />
<p>They were in the basement room. The stove was burning, and the little mice were scurrying about.<br />
<p>“Yeah. I borrowed this. It’s a photo of the festival.” Shion put the magazine down beside Nezumi. Nezumi only glanced at it, and showed no signs of picking it up.<br />
<p>“What about it?” he said.<br />
<p>“This woman looks like you.”<br />
<p>“Me? I don’t know about that. She’s chubby compared to me, and her nose is flat.”<br />
<p>“You might be better-looking, but she looks like she’s enjoying herself. It’s almost as if you can hear the singing and the crowd buzzing. Festival of Flowers,” he murmured to himself. “I wonder what it was like.”<br />
<p>“It’s all from the past.” Nezumi closed the book he was reading and stood up. “The lost past, faded days, a festival that only remains in vague memories. What good is it to me? Only a certain sentimental sheltered boy would find any use for it. To play with, like a toy.”<br />
<p>“... I thought maybe you could sing it.”<br />
<p>“What?”<br />
<p>“I had a feeling you would know how to sing the song of the festival.”<br />
<p>“Me? Why? For your information, Shion, I know next to nothing about the Festival of Spring.”<br />
<p>“Festival of <i>Flowers</i>.”<br />
<p>“Flowers. Whatever. Either way, it has nothing to do with me.”<br />
<p>“Yeah, but...”<br />
<p>Nezumi suddenly yanked at Shion’s hair.<br />
<p>“Ow! What was that for?” Shion protested.<br />
<p>“What kind of song would you make it?”<br />
<p>“Huh?”<br />
<p>“The festival song. What kind of song do you think it was?”<br />
<p>“Huh? Well, I guess it would be, like, you know...”<br />
<p>“Like what?”<br />
<p>“...A song of joy, I guess. The long winter is finally ending, and the season of blossoms is on its way. The sky will turn blue, and the breezes will soften. The air will taste fresher, and the birds and insects will start becoming active. Doesn’t it make your heart feel lighter?”<br />
<p>Nezumi sat down and crossed his legs again.<br />
<p>“I see. So it would celebrate the beautiful season.”<br />
<p>“Yeah. The world, once closed off, would open up with the coming of spring. Farmers would begin their intensive fieldwork, and the children would be able to start playing outside again. It’s... how should I say it... a season that would want to make you believe in hope.”<br />
<p>“The future might just hold despair. The chances of that are much higher.”<br />
<p>“That’s why they held a festival.” <i>People want to change despair into hope, ill luck into fortune, anguish into happiness. People have hope. That’s why they pray to God. That’s why they offer their songs, plead with Him, and seek His protection.</i><br />
<p>“They clung pathetically to God,” Nezumi said shortly.<br />
<p>“They tried to live in harmony with Him,” Shion corrected.<br />
<p>Nezumi lapsed into silent thought for some moments.<br />
<p>“Shion.”<br />
<p>“Hm?”<br />
<p>“There aren’t any festivals in No. 6, are there?”<br />
<p>“No. Only the Holy Celebration, but it’s nothing like a festival. There’s no singing, dancing, or joy. Nezumi, I think only festivals are born if people’s hearts are free. They aren’t born if people are trapped, dominated... am I wrong?”<br />
<p>Nezumi did not answer him.<br />
<p>All he did was close his eyes and repeatedly take quiet breaths.<br />
<br />
<p>It was unbearably stuffy inside the playhouse with the heat of the throng.<br />
<p>“What a turnout,” Shion said. “It’s beyond what I imagined.”<br />
<p>“Ugh, booming business as always,” Rikiga said sourly as he clicked his tongue. “I’m sure the manager is raking in the money. He sure knows where the business is. Damnit!”<br />
<p>“Just lure Eve over to your side,” Inukashi cackled, his shoulders shaking with his laughter. “They’re all here for him, anyway. Then you’ll be the one rolling in the dough, old man.”<br />
<p>“What? You’re telling me to team up with that wily fox? Lay off the jokes, will you? There’s nothing I hate more in this world than that guy. He and I are practically archenemies.”<br />
<p>“What lies!” Inukashi howled. “You’re practically a fan boy. I know you come for almost every showing.”<br />
<p>“Shut up! I haven’t even turned my nose in this direction since finding out who he really was. I’m here tonight because Shion said he absolutely wanted to go, no matter what, and so I had no choice...”<br />
<p>“So you jumped at the opportunity and rushed over.”<br />
<p>“I’d say you’re the one jumping at the opportunity, Inukashi,” Rikiga retorted loudly. “You were itching to see Eve perform.” The man in front of him turned around at his voice. He was bearded and intimidating.<br />
<p>“Shut the hell up back there.”<br />
<p>“Oh―terribly sorry.” Rikiga ducked his head. The stage lights went out as if on cue. A spotlight shone down on centre stage. There appeared Nezumi―no, Eve.<br />
<p>The stage had only one spotlight. There were no microphones, no orchestra, or any stage equipment.<br />
<p>A draft was coming in from somewhere, and Shion could feel the cold creeping up from his feet. A quiet song rang out through it all.<br />
<p>“It’s ‘The Shimmering Things’,” someone whispered. It was a faithful maiden’s love song. It was clear and soft, yet it exuded a heated passion.<br />
<p>Shion could only listen in awe. His heart was stolen away from the very first song. He felt as if he existed solely to listen to Eve’s singing.<br />
<p>Once Eve finished, a moment of silence was followed by thunderous applause. It was enough to make the run-down playhouse shake.<br />
<p>Eve smiled graciously and slowly bowed his head.<br />
<p>Then came the second song.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>O soul, O soul<br />
From where do you come? Whither do you go?<br />
I want to keep holding you in my arms, and yet<br />
Will you fly away<br />
With the wind, to the high skies?<br />
Will you soak through<br />
With the rain, into the earth?</i></blockquote><br />
<p>“The song of burial.” Inukashi trembled. “He sang this when my Mum died...”<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>Will you envelope me warmly<br />
With the light?<br />
<br />
O soul, before you become the wind, before you turn into the rain, before you glow as the light<br />
Just once more<br />
Come back into my arms<br />
One day, I will also become the wind, become the rain, become the light<br />
And embrace you<br />
Embrace you.</i></blockquote><br />
<p>Someone was sniffling. The giant man in front of Shion was weeping.<br />
<p>The third song took a brighter turn with a lighthearted dance piece. For the fourth, a song of lost love between young lovers. Eve unveiled one song after the next.<br />
<p>Then, the last song.<br />
<p>“A song for the far past and far future. A song for those who believe in what’s to come,” Eve announced. He regulated his breathing, then began to sing.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>Spring is coming<br />
The flowers bloom<br />
The skies are blue, the breezes sweet<br />
Come, everyone, come outside<br />
Let us sing<br />
Let us gather<br />
Let us dance<br />
Today is the Festival of Flowers; tonight the Flower Ball<br />
A festival for those who believe in tomorrow</i></blockquote><br />
<p>Eve gave a wide sweep with his hand. Flower blossoms danced in the air. Petals of all colours and shapes, in the thousands, in the ten thousands, showered down from above. It was, of course, an illusion. But Shion could definitely see those illusory blossoms.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>Let us live and celebrate<br />
Let us love another<br />
And stretch our hands to tomorrow<br />
Today is the Festival of Flowers; tonight the Flower Ball<br />
A beautiful day for God and His people</i></blockquote><br />
<p>“Hey, is this―” Rikiga held his breath. It was. The song of the Flower Festival. A song celebrating hope. <br />
<p><i>You did sing it, Nezumi.</i> Shion closed his eyes and placed a hand on his chest. <i>Nezumi, some day with you... </i><br />
<p>He mentally spoke to the boy onstage.<br />
<p><i>Some day, I want to create a real festival with you. When real peace finally prevails in this land, we’ll create the Festival of Flowers once more. We will.<br />
<p>You won’t mind if I call this hope, would you?</i><br />
<p>The song ended.<br />
<p>Eve lowered his head gracefully in a deep bow.<br />
<br />
<br />
<center>-- END OF STORY --</center>9avehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04255529090954932727noreply@blogger.com