Another week went by, stuck in my bed.
Maybe exercising wasn't the right option. I don't have enough time to only exercise once a week and then not move for seven whole days.
Is this it? This is the reason I'm going to give up? Because I can't get my body to just listen? Because I can't do some simple exercise?
Even though I could move, I didn't want to. I just sat in my bed, skipping breakfast, skipping lunch. The sun was right on my face when the teacher came into my room. I couldn't see his face, but he was probably looking at me in pity.
"I promised I would never lie to a student of mine; you've wasted the past two weeks."
He was talking in that same tone of voice, that same way that he would tease me no matter the occasion. He never took me seriously, but he always was different with Koyo.
I spoke at him through clenched teeth.
"I know."
"Why are you angry with me?"
"You didn't help."
"You wanted me to help?"
"Yes, I wanted you to help!"
It was just a spur-of-the-moment thing, deciding to start screaming at him. The past two weeks have been hell, and he didn't do anything about it.
"I can see that you're mad."
"You didn't come to check on me! Fourteen whole days! I sat in my bed for fourteen days and you did nothing!"
"I let you work through this yourself. I told you that if I gave you the solution it wouldn't mean anything. If anything I've said those words the most since you came here."
"Bullshit!"
"Alright, hold on-"
"What? Cursing is too far? You leave me to rot for two weeks and I can't curse at you?"
"It's not about cursing at me. You're drawing the wrong conclusions-"
"Fuck the 'wrong conclusions.' You abandoned me!"
"I didn't abandon you, I let you learn."
"What have I learned! What did I get! What did you teach me by letting me sit all alone while you taught Koyo everything he needed to know!"
He mumbled something to himself that I only caught a few words from.
"Is this really what I looked like?"
He leaned on the side of the doorframe and put only his left thumb in his left pocket. He stared at me, probably waiting for me to say something.
"You never do anything for me! You sit there and watch him beat me up and then you tell me that it's entirely my fault! You never talk about anything that he does wrong, I've never seen you even talk to him if you're not praising how good he is!"
He didn't respond this time.
"Two years and I haven't gotten a single thing! I haven't landed a single hit! I haven't won a single match! You don't give me anything! He doesn't give me anything! He just sits there and waits, and then he hits me and I don't get anything from it! I just have to wait, and then lose against him again! Again, and again, and I haven't changed!"
I looked back at him, he was clearly pitying me. Looking down on me. Of course he was. I probably looked like some whiny brat right now, screaming at him because I lost a match. Of course he sees it that way.
"One hit, one single win, that's all I need! Even if I don't win against him, even if I fail a thousand times, I just need something! I just needed you to tell me I was right, to help me get through beating after beating, time after time getting hit straight to the floor and forcing myself to get back up again. And I could do it! I could do it, and all I wanted was for you to just tell me I was right! Tell me I was doing well!"
My eyes turned blurry, and I felt water dripping down my face. I saw him get off the wall and started walking toward me. What was he going to do? Was he going to slap me? Was he going to tell me off? I continued to scream at him.
"You're just like him. You're just like him! Both of you think that everything you're doing is right, and you can never be wrong, but you never do anything that helps! He just sits there and gets to be perfect at the sword while you ignore the one person actually trying to improve so you can hold him tight when he cries cause he chipped his fucking nail!"
He stopped walking toward me, he was in the middle of the room now.
"His nail! Not even on his dominant hand, the ring finger of his left hand and he chipped his nail and burst into tears, and all you could think about for the next month was making sure he was going to be okay! Night after night you'd walk into his room and I'd hear you comforting him, I wouldn't be surprised if you were fucking wiping the tears from his face."
I wiped my eyes and I could see him more clearly, he wasn't looking back at me, he was looking off to the side at the floor like he was embarrassed about what I was saying.
"And I thought 'Wow! What a nice person! Except he fucking never does anything like that, FOR ME!' You just sit there and tell me about how horrible I am with my sword, and how much I can get better, and every time you talk to him it's like I'm watching you speak with a toddler! An infant who doesn't know about anything and has to be coddled!"
My throat started to hurt, it was hard to swallow, but if I didn't it felt like my skin would just dry up and fall right off.
"But no! Apparently that's okay, it's all right to coddle him when he chips a nail that he doesn't even use but losing one-thousand four hundred and fifty-three times to the same person, day after day, and trying my hardest to improve and you can't even lift a single fucking finger! I just wanted you to say that I was changing, I just wanted you to tell me that I wasn't wasting every day putting all my effort into beating someone who could flick his wrist and knock me to the ground and you just stood there and looked at me like I was an adult who was crazy for getting upset over the thousandth loss! You looked at me like I was someone who should deal with his own problems, like you couldn't believe I was complaining!"
He started to walk toward me again, slowly, and he extended his arms out and tried to put them around me. What was he trying to do, pull me into a hug? Was he going to hold me close while he explained why he chose to make my life horrible for the past two years when he had every opportunity to lend a single helping hand?
When he actually got close to touching me I swatted his hand away and glared at him, my eyes were blurry again but I couldn't wipe them. If I wasn't pushing him away from me he'd probably hold me and force me to apologize, talk about my feelings, and whatever other load of bullshit he'll use to get out of his part in why I'm outraged.
"Get out!"
He pulled his hand back quickly. I found the time to wipe my eyes and look up at him. He was looking at me with those sad eyes that I'd seen everywhere. The homeless, the hungry, whatever animal you're about to kill so you can eat that night.
We just sat there, and I started to breathe shakily, I got congested, and I had to force myself to breathe slowly so I didn't choke on my own spit. Eventually, I saw something move from behind him. There he was. That spoiled bastard standing at the door.
I wonder how much he heard. He probably didn't care. Maybe he was here to gloat, or to support the teacher. Well, of course, he's here to support the teacher. He has him wrapped around his chipped fucking ring finger.
The teacher turned around as well to look at him, and just when he did Koyo rushed away and I heard him run down the stairs. The door was swung wide open, and the teacher looked at me. What, was he looking for my permission to go after him?
"Go on, chase your golden boy!"
He ran out of the door as well. Of course he did. Not even a second thought, he just wanted me to say okay so he could come back without me being mad at him. He'd probably cook some meal and bring it to me later.
Maybe he wouldn't even come back. He'd spend the entire night chasing after Koyo and then spend another month sitting beside him while he cries himself to sleep. Of course he'll be there to wipe every tear.
I heard the wind blow as he ran out of the house to chase after Koyo, and I knew he wouldn't be coming back for a while. I didn't want to go after them, I'd just have to witness an hour of them hugging each other and crying their hearts out.
I got off my bed and walked down the stairs to close the door. I went into the room with all the food and looked for something to eat or drink. There was nothing but a barrel full of beer and another full of water. I took a tankard from the table to my left and filled it up with beer. I walked into the main room and sat in the chair that he always sat in whenever he would talk to me about how I needed to speak about my own thoughts and feelings.
I sat there and slowly drank the beer in the tankard, sip by sip. It wasn't the kind that the teacher would usually give me, it was the strong kind that he poured himself. It tasted horrible, usually, mine just tasted kind of like this, muddled down with water. I drank it anyways. Sip by sip. I wasn't even drinking it, I was just pouring it into my mouth, and letting it fall down into my stomach.
I sat there even after I finished the drink, and I just thought about what I'd say to him when he got back.
I thought about what I'd do tomorrow, and how I would get back at them for making the last two years of my life the most horrible they could.
I need to know how I'm actually going to get better with my damn sword.