"Chounan to Jinan" : A Five-part Choukei-based Series

Chapter 7: Day 103 to Day 111

November 2
Day 103

As today had been spent entirely upstairs in the futon, I feel no need to recount what had transpired hours earlier. What I do wish to delve into, as promised before, are the events of the days past- a subject which you may no doubt have been in a terrible state of trepidation to learn, journal dearest- so I will cease my rambling and endeavor to relay the whole of these affairs unto you at once.

Once the initial panic had subsided from the realization that I was to be hindered from what little agency I had left, I was bereft of any emotion aside from fury.

Yes, fury. A deep, insatiable anger rended what little patience and understanding I was once willing to expend upon my brother and the doctor's callous airs- and alone behind suffocating doors, without a single trace of light allowed any entrance, I silently cursed them both and myself for having so foolishly gone along with their ploy. Of course, I couldn't allow myself to be downtrodden by past happenings for the whole length of time as it would prove fruitless in doing so, and thus resolved in those few moments of ebbing loathing to prepare for the inevitable turbulent future which surely awaited me beyond this stifling wood.

And with this resolution in mind, thus began a series of battles waged between my eldest brother and I, to which we both had very nearly been driven out of our wits from each of the others' doings.

It had started with the first visit Osomatsu had deigned to grace me with in what appeared to be several hours since my imprisonment. He had appeared without warning, for I hadn't heard any footsteps nearing the cabinet doors until they were drawn, and soon the figure of my eldest brother blocked out the light from where he had stood poised before the opening. (It was in this way that I had also managed to steal a glance towards the window and came to the understanding that the day had officially been given into night, journal dearest.)

Osomatsu had greeted me with a smile which could rival that of the sun's fierce intensity, scalding yet alluring as he inquired as to how I was faring. I had fair reason to believe that he had been drawn back by an onset of guilt for having rid me of any mobility, and was expecting to be joyfully received, for his surprise at having been rejected outright was quite evident once I had turned away from him without a word, keeping my arms tightly wound around my legs and paid him no mind which in turn baffled him into silence.

A few seconds had passed, then a minute or so before Osomatsu had at last drawn away, resealing the doors with a vow to return the following morning. I had said nothing, resisting to bother with a half-hearted response even when he had bade farewell before leaving me to my solitary prison, and soon I was alone within the familiarizing darkness once again.

When next the doors were opened, it was  morning. The gently billowing curtains which had rustled along its rod were an indication that the window had been let down and thus allowed a crisp breeze into the room to rid the room of any stagnation. Osomatsu had come before me once more, a bowl of rice topped with a pair of chopsticks in hand and a near placating smile as he had presented his offering. Again, I had refused to acknowledge him, unable to set aside my firmed resolve from earlier while my eldest brother simply milled about for a space before attempting to unlatch my hands to push the bowl into my grip. I refused to give him even the slightest satisfaction of being made to comply and had made to resist him as best as one could do with limited mobility, and my efforts had served me well as I had managed to fend him off without too much difficulty and even send the bowl flying across the room.

Osomatsu had paused, blinking before gritting his teeth and muttered something incoherent before slamming the doors shut and obscuring my vision with a shroud of obsidian as he marched off, retrieving the bowl before storming from the room. I had flinched upon registering the sharp crack of wood upon wood which signaled his retreat from tour quarters, but otherwise found that in light of my small victory I had become ever more obstinate in my course to refuse him and relished in the basking glow which usually accompanies triumph.