In the box (BoyXBoy)

In the Box. Pt. 3

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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
"Too bad there was no game today, huh?"
Kitagawa turned around.
"Not really," he said in a detached voice.
"But you always look like you're enjoying yourself. I'm bad at ball games, so I'm envious of you."
"Softball isn't really fun. They tell me to play because I'm young, so I do."
Douno was taken aback by Kitagawa's short, unfacilitating answer. He had figured all along that Kitagawa played because he enjoyed it.
"If you don't like to play, why don't you say so to everyone? I don't think you have to force yourself."
Kitagawa looked at Douno's face.
"It's easier just to do what I'm told."
Yes, perhaps it was easier to get on with life here if one just did as he was told, without protesting.
"But isn't it stressful for you, doing things against your will?"
"What's stress?" Kitagawa asked with a straight face. Douno was at a loss for words.
"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."
Kitagawa tilted his head in perplexity.
"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.
"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."
The way Kitagawa spoke almost sounded like he was condoning the lifestyle here. Wait a second, Douno questioned mentally.
"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."
"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?"
I just finished talking about how people hate having their freedom taken away, Douno thought, but the message had apparently not gotten across to Kitagawa at all.
"Hey." Kitagawa looked up at Douno with his head still on his knees. "Say 'thank you'."
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."
"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?"
"Normal people?"
"Shiba said you were a normal guy. But nobody's ever said 'thank you' to me much before."
How old is Kitagawa? 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.
"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."
It was absolute nonsense.
"That's not right," Douno said. "You don't give kindness and consideration to get words in return."
"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?"
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.
Kitagawa looked up at the sky and took a breath.
"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'."