Hasunuma’s hospital was sprawling. It not only had an inpatient facility but a newly-built work centre for outpatients who came for regular sessions. There was also a group home onsite, where patients lived together and helped each other out.
One day, Hasunuma took Kisaragi on a tour of the facilities. They strolled through the vast property as if on a leisurely walk. The place appeared to be under expansion. Small trucks trundled to and fro, and a portion of the bamboo wood was being cleared. A number of men were busy bundling the bamboo stalks that had been cut down.
“Are you increasing the number of beds?” Kisaragi asked.
“Nope,” said Hasunuma, shaking his head. “We’re building a work centre.”
Closer inspection revealed a pile of logs where the bamboo wood used to be. The building, when complete, would be a log house. Patients would attend on a regular schedule to help build it.
“Work centre? So you’re expanding it?”
“You could say we are. It’s a work centre for people with intellectual disabilities, as well as for people who are mentally ill. Actually,” Hasunuma admitted, “my older brother is one of them. There were some complications when my mother gave birth to him, and he was left with a brain disorder.”
Kisaragi had never heard this story before, and looked up at Hasunuma’s face. Hasunuma was wearing his usual calm smile.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kisaragi asked.
“It was a personal thing.”
Kisaragi had always thought that the man’s life was full of light and happiness. He now felt regret at his shallow assumptions.
“I guess I didn’t know anything about you,” he said.
“Neither did I. I wasn’t able to understand you in the true sense. Not until it was too late － until you were sick.” Hasunuma laid a gentle hand on Kisaragi’s shoulder.
“I think people have a right to live where they want to live. Society might think that the handicapped are more comfortable living in a facility where people will take care of them, but… that’s not true. Everyone wants to live as a part of society. People have the right to live where they want, with whom they want.”
Kisaragi thought of the nation that had been divided into the North and South. He prayed that the man’s homeland would one day become one, and that people would be able to live freely where they pleased.
The work center that was already established contained a bakery. The facility was designed like a sun room to let in lots of natural sunlight. Regular psychiatric outpatients kneaded dough along with the intellectually-disabled.
“Eat this, doctor,” said a young man with Down syndrome, offering Kisaragi a freshly-baked melon bun. The bun, which was colored a faint green in the likeness of a melon, was soft and sweet.
“Is it good? Is it good?” The young man asked eagerly, wearing an innocent smile as he looked up at Kisaragi.
“Yes,” he Kisaragi said. “It’s so delicious, it’s making me cry.”
* * *
One spring day, Kisaragi[m1] stepped out onto the balcony adjacent to his room. The man’s emaciated body had begun to flesh out again. He was now able to sleep better at night.
As Kisaragi gazed at the expanse of ocean before him, tears sprung to his eyes and beads of light danced in his vision. A serene spring ocean spread before him. The waves were calm, unusual for the ocean on the coast of Sotobo.
Kisaragi was standing on the balcony of the hospital. He recalled the face of the man who had crossed the ocean. He felt as if half of his heart has disappeared since that day. He thought of the man who lived in the sundered country. As a Japanese, he would never be able to understand the man’s profound sadness.
But now, with his torn heart, he felt like he had gotten at least a little bit closer to the man. It was all his assumption. He knew that.
“If that’s what you want to think,” the man might say if he were here. Kisaragi’s vision blurred and the ocean glittered before his eyes.
“Hey,” Hasunuma said when he came up. “We have a shortage of doctors who practice internal medicine. We’ve got more beds now, and we have a lot of patients with drug addictions. Some patients are also suffering gastrointestinal disorders in combination. I was wondering if you would help me out.”
“Well…” Kisaragi gazed out at the ocean. “I guess since you’re getting married, you wouldn’t be able to devote all of your time to the hospital anymore.”
Hasunuma scratched his head sheepishly. “Actually, that fell through,” he said.
“What? Why?”
“Well, I had a lot of things to consider.”
Kisaragi remembered the man mention his older brother who was disabled.
“You said it was arranged through a matchmaker, but… was it for that kind of reason?”
“No,” Hasunuma said firmly. “I called it off. There’s someone else in my life that I need more. Stupid, aren’t I?” he said quietly with an ironic smile. “For me to… realize how important someone is to me after he’s been taken by another man.”
He finished and peered into Kisaragi’s face, placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I might be too late, but… please. Will you be with me?”
Kisaragi stared at the man in front of him, unable to take his words at face value.
“What do you mean?”
“What do I－I mean, it doesn’t get any more obvious, does it? If it were a man and a woman, it’d be a marriage proposal.”
Kisaragi shook his head in disbelief. “Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not being stupid. I’m serious.”
Kisaragi still shook his head. “Are you saying you can sleep with me? Can you feel desire for a man? Don’t force yourself. For me, being friends with you is good enough.”
He hesitated.
“If we can’t stay as friends, I feel like I’d end up hating you. That’s the last thing I want to do.”
Hasunuma strengthened the grip on his shoulder. “I’m not sure if I can, but… I’ll try my best.”
They made love on the hospital bed. At first, Hasunuma was hesitant and had some trouble getting erect. After Kisaragi caressed him with his hands and his mouth, Hasunuma’s member gradually grew hard enough for them to have intercourse.
“I’m surprised. Hmm…” Hasunuma muttered to himself as he and Kisaragi joined themselves together. Once inside, Hasunuma was passionate, and both of them reached their climax. Hasunuma remained inside Kisaragi as he gently caressed the man.
“I should have tried it sooner. That way, I wouldn’t have had to make you suffer like this. I’m sorry,” he apologized as he kissed the man.
“I have something I need to tell you,” Kisaragi said hesitantly as they broke apart from their kiss. “I love you, but… I can’t do this.”
“Are you talking about that guy? Kanesaki?”
Kisaragi looked up at him in surprise. The man was smiling.
“He’s the man that made you sick. Of course I would know about him.” Hasunuma gently ran his fingers through Kisaragi’s hair. “He was that man I met at the hotel, right? I was worried about you, so I took a picture of him on my phone in secret. When I heard you’d gotten sick, I went to see Arima.”
Kisaragi’s eyes widened at Arima’s name. “How…?”
“Everyone in the hospital knew that you were the doctor in charge of Arima. I couldn’t think of any other person who had ties to the yakuza. So I showed him the photo and asked about him.”
Hasunuma’s tone was casual, but Kisaragi could imagine how much trouble he had gone through to seek t
his information. Arima was not a person you could meet easily.
“You put yourself in danger for me, all just to… but why…?”
“Idiot,” Hasunuma said with a smile. “Because I wanted to know more about you. Tell me more about what kind of person Kanesaki was.”
“Then I’m sure you already know,” Kisaragi said. “Half of my heart already belongs to him.”
“That’s fine,” Hasunuma said. “The other half belongs to me.”
He reached out and gently stroked Kisaragi’s hair. “When Kanesaki comes back, we’ll have a duel, and the winner will get to have you.” He gave a cheerful laugh. “And let me tell you, I’ll definitely win.”
That moment, Kisaragi made a resolution.
He would do what he can while he waited for the man’s return.
“I’ll be with you. Until Kanesaki comes back.”
Hasunuma smiled at his answer. “If that’s what you want to do.”
The man’s soft voice echoed in his heart. Kisaragi felt a warm droplet roll down his cheek.
The Sundered Page 7