I just bought a condom for the first time in my life. The bright red package is much fancier than I initially expected. It's made in Japan and apparently, it has texture? Why do I suddenly buy a condom? Well, I have no idea. I have no plans to use it in the near future either. Perhaps, it's a mere out of pure curiosity.
It just happened.
As I walked through the pharmacy, tossing flossing thread, toothpaste, body wash, and air freshener into my basket, I passed a section filled with lotions, condoms, pregnancy tests, and headache medicine. At first, I didn't notice what those packages in red, gold and blue, or the lame ones with butterflies on a black background were. Upon closer look, I finally realized that those are what people called normal condoms. They certainly looked nothing like the condoms I use for medical examinations. Among the various manufacturers, I found one that looked familiar. It was the same manufacturer that I use at the hospital.
Well, a condom is still a condom. But I wondered what was inside. Are there any differences besides the part where the semen is stored in the tip? I was genuinely curious. I glanced at the cash register and saw that an elderly man was in charge. I put one in my basket and paid with a card.
In the end, the old man packs the condom in a brown paper bag with the others. Somehow, I am in a pleasant mood. I remember a famous literary work that talks about how having s*x with the person you love leaves a citrus taste in your mouth. I laugh a bit in the store parking lot. It's a little complicated for me to know if that is true or not.
It's been two months since Iwamoto and I have been living together. We started during the summer, and now it's already autumn. The mornings and evenings are cold, I'll have to unpack my heavier coats soon. Iwamoto is still wearing a T-shirt. He no longer wears tank tops, but that is the only change―as if summer is still floating around him. I always ask him each time I turn on the heat, but he has never complained. Maybe his good metabolism is resistant to temperature differences.
Iwamoto is a forgiving, brave, gentle, and patient man.
Iwamoto had previously said at the Chinese restaurant, that his emotional instability might be due to PMS. Although I have never observed him getting irritated before or during, he did indeed seem distressed by the abdominal and back pain during menstruation.
I remember when I rubbed Iwamoto's belly for the first time. Watching him suffer from menstrual cramps on moving day. Since then, it became my job to warm him up and rub him whenever the pain is intense. Of course, I am a complete amateur when it comes to massage. I am not qualified to take on such a role, but I still take advantage of it anyway.
"Oh, that feels good..."
It was fun to watch Iwamoto relax his shoulders and laid his big muscular body on the couch. His eyebrows, which can be described as stern, loosen, and his thick lips curled into a slight smile. His muscular back expanded and shrank with every breath he took. A trained body wrapped in a clean white T-shirt should have no s*xual traits whatsoever...but I felt guilty just by looking at him. It was completely different from when I used to pet some dogs in the park and how they would show me their chubby bellies. Because with Iwamoto, my hand movement was filled with evil pleasure.
Pleasure, laced with guilt.
"It always hurts quite a bit at the beginning... Sorry."
"No worries."
"Should we go to that Chinese restaurant?"
"Oh, I'd like that. It was good last time."
"Or Mexican food?"
"We can order both and stir it all up in a huge bowl."
"Gross."
As Iwamoto laughed, the vibrate hits right into my hands.
To tell you the truth, my patients rarely complain of menstrual pain. I was concerned since I only have a few cases like him―severe pain, greasy sweats, and immense bleeding. It sounded to me like he might have endometriosis.
"Have you had any other symptoms?"
"Yeah?"
"When you go to the bathroom are you constipated? Do you notice stains on your underwear even when you're not menstruating?"
"Yes, I guess so... At first."
I mentioned that an MFUU's feces are wrapped up in some kind of fluid. I wonder if it can make Iwamoto more prone to constipation.
"I used to have constipation... But now, it's actually all pretty normal. Sometimes my underwear seems to have some kind of clear liquid on it too. But I read on the internet and I know it's normal right?"
Iwamoto said in a rather casual tone. Without hesitating or putting on any weird expressions. It seemed as if he had reached the idea that being an MFUU isn't so bad after all. But I knew it isn't. Of course not. Iwamoto was still having a lot of trouble accepting it.
Up until now, he had lived like a normal man. I know how he struggled before he could accept at least a little bit of his condition. I wondered if he still has anxiety. Because clearly, I am always nervous.
"It's so much fun to live with a doctor like you, Sensei. Like there's no need for me to go to the hospital."
Iwamoto laughed, wrinkled his nose, and looked away―perhaps embarrassed. I could only imagine how hard he's had it, how strong he is, and...how little I understand him. I was unable to say anything back. I didn't know how to act when he praised me like that. I could only pray that his life in the future will be good.
It has to be.
* * *
Before buying a condom, I bought a cup of hot coffee too.
I always thought that Starbucks coffee looks delicious. But I didn't know how to buy it or the price they charged. I thought it would be embarrassing if I asked the clerk at the counter since everyone bought coffee in a quick and quiet manner. I didn't want to break that strange aura with my awkward and uncoordinated movements. But since I happened to know there is a newly opened Starbucks in one corner of the university hospital, I asked Shimabukuro―it was much easier than I thought. The coffee I bought was not that tasty and unfortunately not worth the price. Then, while I still have time, I also stopped by a new barber shop, went to change my glasses frame, bought a large bag of bread, and finally ended up buying the condom.
Why did I buy a condom I am not planning on using? That's suspicious and completely disgusting coming from me. My strange attitude is easily noticed by others. The old man at the cash register may have figured out something was wrong with me. Because I am a virgin and certainly a very strange man to the eyes of any ordinary person. But well, I have a right to buy whatever I want to buy. A pair of scissors with a nice handle, some potatoes just because the bag has a nice design, betting on a horse race because I like its mane... I may suddenly buy a mountain bike or roller skates.
And now I want a condom, so I bought it.
I come home feeling like I want to sleep forever.
"Welcome back, Sensei. Took you a while to get back."
"I went to buy some stuff."
"Great, did you buy the usual body wash? I thought I'd go buy it at a supermarket, but I forgot...thank you so much."
"Don't worry about it."
Iwamoto smells good.
I put the shopping bag on the dining room table, take out the contents, and put everything properly in their places. Returning from the bathroom, I squeeze the almost empty bag. As expected, there is no place to store the condom. Where shall I put it?
Iwamoto stares at me with a pot of udon in hand.
"What's wrong?"
I notice his curious look, but he quickly returns my question with a smile.
"Nothing, I guess."
He puts the udon pot on the basin.
The rest of the day feels quite unusual. After eating, Iwamoto goes straight to the bath and avoids me all night. He doesn't even come to sit with me on the sofa either.
Something is terribly wrong, and I am worried.
I am anxious.