33

Children are scary, because they’ll say the stuff that adults won’t without batting an eye. There was no buildup, U just hit me with a straight, “You smell.”

But that Sunday was the fifth day of my imprisonment. I had not bathed or showered even once. I didn’t even get a change of clothes.

I’d have to surgically remove all my sweat glands to prevent B.O. for that long a period of time.

That didn’t even cover the stench of blood all over my shirt and jeans. I was used to it, since I was the one stuck with it, but U was rather sensitive to it.

Then again, she probably wasn’t all that sensitive. She had to have been aware of the buildup over the days, because it didn’t happen all at once on Sunday. I guess she had just been putting up with it until she couldn’t bear it any longer.

But surely there was a nicer way to put it…

I try to keep to a schedule as best I can as an author, but even I get into periods of the so-called “crunch time”. When that happens, sometimes I get to a place where I can’t afford to take baths… and unlike food or sleep, going without a bath won’t kill you… But to put it in perspective, that was the first time I’d ever gone five days without bathing, and I’ve yet to break that record. That said, I’m sure the smell was quite serious, so I guess I can’t blame U for being a bit frank. If anything, I should’ve been grateful for her restraint up to that point.

No, wait, I don’t need to be grateful. It was U‘s fault that I was in an environment where I went five days without bathing to begin with.

“I still have homework to finish, so please go ahead into the bath.”

After declaring she was finished with her meal, that was the next thing U said, as though she couldn’t wait any longer.

She might’ve been polite enough to be declare thanks for each meal, but she never cleaned up after herself, so the closet, my only sanctuary, had been getting notably trashier over the course of the weekend. I tried to put everything in a plastic bag whenever U left, but I couldn’t throw anything out, so it was really piling up.

It would have been fine if I could ask U to throw it all in the living room trash can, but I didn’t know if asking her to do that would touch a nerve or not. I didn’t want to risk asking if I didn’t know how she would respond.

Our relationship had improved to the point that she was encouraging me to take a bath… and honestly, her knife was just a formality at that point… and I really didn’t want to go back. Though I suppose you could rephrase that as she was only encouraging a bath because my odor had gotten so bad…

“This way,” she stated, tugging at my sleeve. I finally had been granted legal (legal? What weird phrasing) access to the house outside the closet, and not even at knifepoint, but being pulled by my sleeve.

It came surprisingly easy… but it was the snowball result of five entire days, I suppose. A combination of U‘s mental fatigue from imprisoning me, my completely submissive attitude, and a lack of escape attempts.

We took a short walk down the hallway to the connected restroom and bathing room. Several bath towels were stacked on top of a white shelf in the restroom… But what stuck out more were the equal number of towels crammed and stuffed with piles and piles of clothes in the laundry bin.

But I figured it out pretty quickly.

U was a fourth-year elementary schooler. Maybe she could draw a bath, but she didn’t know how to operate a washing machine. So she just left her clothes and towels there after taking them off.

The place looked the part of a wealthy household, and I was sure U had no shortage of spare clothes and towels… but she was going to run out eventually.

It was Sunday, and my confinement was nearing its end, but there we had another sign that U‘s life of living alone was never sustainable to begin with.

I thought about teaching her how to use the washing machine before leaving, but I knew that would be more than a little meddling. Besides, what was the point of trying to pass on life skills to an elementary schooler? It wasn’t like I was in charge of her bridal training, and that was a bygone concept even then. I didn’t even think it was necessary for her to know how to draw the bath.

It was there that I asked U a question. Weird timing to be sure, but on the topic of life skills and survivability, I just had to know. Even if I was asking an older adult, or a kid that wasn’t U, it was a question that I wouldn’t expect a straight answer to… but I just had to know. I felt like I could understand her just a little better if I could clear up a bit of what made her so incomprehensible.

So, what I asked her, there in the restroom preparing to take a bath, was: Why did she give me all of her school lunch that second day, rather than just half?

“Because I thought you might die. Again.”

U‘s answer was immediate, and she had no apparent hesitation in letting me know.

But, again?

When I asked her to clarify, U said, “It died a long time ago. The cat I had. I didn’t want to see one die again. As the owner, I have to take responsibility.”

With that, U left the restroom. I was surprised that there was such a train of thought behind her actions, and especially with that specific reasoning.

There were still a lot of gaps, but I tried to fill them in with all the imagination an aspiring author could have. More or less, what I came up with was: A long time ago (well, whatever counts as a long time for an elementary schooler), U had a pet cat that died. She probably forgot to feed it or something. And I reminded U of her failure to remember to feed her pet.

That proved there was a reason behind her extreme behavior. Even then, it was still a little too extreme, but it was something.

That said, I wasn’t sure she had fully thought through the consequences of her actions. I didn’t know how much homework she had left, but any pet left alone in the bathroom would have run off for sure. Basically, U was very unskilled at both keeping pets and imprisoning humans.

She had stopped looking like a monster.

She had stopped looking like a kid who was messed up in the head.

After so long, U was beginning to look like a normal fourth-year elementary schooler… But I was only minutes away from realizing how mistaken that perspective was.

I stripped off my clothes.