Confinement - Day 4

Translated by Valentin

Edited by Valentin

Alas, I didn’t finish drawing her by yesterday.

I didn’t plan to be that detailed at first, but as I kept drawing her, I ended up paying attention to every detail, which took a long time.

That’s why I continued to draw her today as well.

The girl never gets tired of posing.

I’m good since I’m working with my hands, but I’m worried that she’ll just sit there and get bored. But she never complained, even though she didn’t get anything at all.

Eventually, about an hour after eating lunchーthe regular jelly-yogurt-supplement mealーthe drawing was finished.

“Finally!”

I put down my pen and stretched out my arms.

“…”

On all fours, she reaches me.

I averted my sight after catching a peek of her cleavage through the gap in her shirt.

“How is it? I tried to draw you like you said…”

I half-turned the LCD tab and turned it in her face.

I drew it since it was something I had to do.

But the fact that I had been staring at a high school girl for over half a day made me feel embarrassed, so I blamed her.

(If she gave me a poor evaluation, I wouldn’t be able to look at her.)

I was anxious.

I don’t believe I did a poor job, but I wasn’t sure how others would react to it.

She fixed her gaze on the LCD tab.

It was so short on time that I couldn’t even make a cup of noodles.

A few vexing minutes passed.

Eventually, she looked at me and opened her mouth, and her first words were…

“Take off your clothes.”

That was it.

(Why?)

The unexpected words surprised me.

Is it possible that I offended her?

Was the drawing not good enough?

I knew that my work would never reach anyone’s heart.

But, even if I did, what would I do once I am naked?

“It’s not going to be simple for me to take off my clothing if you want me to. I’m trapped on a chain, as you know.”

I pushed aside my internal conflict and voiced such an obvious concern.

“I see. Okay, then…”

The girl places the knife in her left hand and pulls the key from her blazer’s breast pocket with her right.

She reached for the collar with her other hand while holding the knife out to me.

“ーーNow you can take it off, right?”

I easily removed the chains from me.

“O-okay.”

I removed the shirt I was wearing.

On second thought, I had been wearing the same clothes for several days.

The temperature was just ideal this time of year, halfway between spring and summer, so I shouldn’t be sweating so much. But I have to add that it’s a dirty dress to be wearing in front of a high school girl.

“The lower also.”

She demanded mercilessly.

“The lower?!”

I obediently obeyed.

First the jeans, and then the underwear.

Nonetheless, in a desperate last-ditch attempt, I covered my crotch with my hands and defended it to the death.

“Come here.”

The girl turned to face me and began walking backwards.

When I left the room, she got behind me.

She pushed me into the bathroom.

(What? Are you planning to murder and dismember me in the bathroom?)

Such a dreadful sight flashed across my head.

“Go in.”

“Uh, in the bathtub? Are you sure?”

“…”

The girl nodded.

I was apparently overthinking things.

I entered the bathroom and shut the door obediently.

In the room, there was shampoo and body soap.

My body was sticky, and my head was itching.

But, I was honestly grateful to be able to take a bath.

I turn on the shower.

I heard the sound of clothes rustling from the changing room at the same time.

(Eh? This isーー)

The bathroom door squeaked open before I could gather my thoughts.

The girl’s image reflected in the bathroom mirror.

Needless to say, unlike me, she wasn’t entirely naked; she was dressed in a school swimsuit.

Obviously, she’s wearing a mask and holding a knife in her right hand.

It’s not the typical one-piece school swimsuit seen in mangas, but rather a separate type with a separate top and bottom. If you changed the gym uniform to a swimsuit material and chopped the sleeves off at the shoulders, it would be easy to understand.

Somehow, I thought it was the time.

(That’s an ant.)

School swimsuits in the past were probably more provocative, but the current style, with its wildness, is also nice since it underlines teenagers’ simplicity.

“From the head? From the body?”

Maybe she’s asking about the order of washing?

“Umm, I can wash it myself.”

“It’s okay.”

I’m not sure what to make of that, but she’s dead set on washing me.

“Umm, then, from the head.”

I answered slowly.

I didn’t want to get stabbed, and I didn’t want to offend her and forfeit my right to bath.

“I see. Then, close your eyes.”

I did as told and closed my eyes.

I heard a thud, like something being put down.

Maybe it’s the knife.

The girl’s fingers rubbed my scalp.

Her hands seemed pretty awkward.

Of course, the fact that she isn’t as good as the professional barbers I attend to every day doesn’t help.

Especially still, she appears to be clumsy, even given the circumstances.

Sometimes she puts too much pressure on it, which hurts, but I’m not complaining.

(Could this be a reward for my drawing?).

I think about that.

If that’s the case, then my drawing convinced her.

If so, I’m honestly happy.

The pleasant sensation of a hot shower, together with the shampoo, cleans the dirt from my head.

I open my eyes again.

“Next is the body.”

“Um, okay, so just the top half. I’ll do the bottom myself.”

I insist in a firm voice.

Even as a prisoner of war, there is a line that I wanted to protect.

“… I see.”

She mumbled, a little dissatisfied for some reason.

She eventually went out of the bathroom after I finished washing myself and soaking in the bathtub.

I hear a huge motor noise coming from the changing room a little time later.

Whirr, whirr, whirr.

(Is she washing my clothes? But, was there a washing machine? I tossed away the last one I had, so did she buy it? If that’s the case, where’s the money coming from?)

I thought and thought, but no answer came.

(I mean, come to think of it, this is the first time a girl outside of my family has seen me naked. That is a really unusual case…)

I can feel my cheeks turn red.

I wondered if it was because I was sitting in the tub, if I was sick again, orーー

I repeatedly splashed the hot water on my face with both hands, as if to shake off the myriad imaginations that come and go.

I got out of the bathtub when my body was warm enough.

I opened the door after softly sweeping away the water.

“ーーAhh! You’re still here?”

The girl was standing silently, and I hurriedly covered my crotch with my hands.

“Quickly change your clothes.”

The girl tosses me the clothing that was in her arms.

“Oh, thank god… Wait, what the hell is this…”

When I received them and unfolded them, I was in awe.

Bath towels, shirts, pants, and underwear, all with characters from my work printed on them.

“That’s why, change into a bath towel.”

“That’s not what I meant…”

A manga artist who uses a skin-colored bath towel of his own heroine to clean his body, wears mascot-patterned pants, and uses a T-shirt printed with the hero and pants of a rival character as sleepwear.

I really hate it.

It’s very narcissistic.

“? It should be the right size.”

The girl tilts her head.

“What about the other clothes? I’ll take anything that doesn’t have my character printed on it.”

“There’s no such thing here.”

The girl answered immediately.

“I see…”

She bit her back teeth and wiped herself with a bath towel.

I was prepared for any physical abuse, but I didn’t expect such a psychological humiliation.

It was quite embarrassing, but it didn’t matter because I had no other clothes.

(Yeah, damn it. It may be annoying, but it doesn’t make much a difference to the function of the clothing.)

That’s what I told myself as I hastily put on my clothes.