Miho has been ’recovering’ well.
Even only after a few days since we made Shin’s place our ho, she could already throw the daggers from one end of the room to the bull’s eye on the dart board. If that wasn’t already an impressive feat, she improved her targeting by throwing the daggers from different positions and angles. Once that task seed like a child’s play to a child-like Miho, she stopped playing with the dartboard and started to work with the Wooden Man that she called Woodie.
Woodie had a tough life.
He was beaten relentlessly day and night by Miho, and to add to his misery Miho at one point started throwing knives at him too. She targeted him from various angles and positions Knives flew and stuck to him from top of her bunker bed, from below the desk, through the gaps of a half-open door.
Whatever we did, Miho had a dozen knives laid out next to her.
We’d be sitting on the floor playing Uno, Go-Stop, Monopoly, or whatever, and she’d at random points pick a knife and fling it at Woodie. It invariably landed on him and its myriads of wooden arms were of no use.
Every ti I asked her why she was doing all this ’training’, she told that there were three reasons. The first reason was so that she could protect from the ’bad woman in a suit’ - a faceless villainess that Miho was sure would co for us eventually. The second reason was that it was because Shin told her to train.
And the third reason was that it was because Shin told her to train.
As the kitten was slowly transforming into the tigress she once was day by day, I stayed with her. Her movent was so graceful, yet her punches and kicks were vicious. Sotis she’d get so worked up fighting Woodie that she’d actually get angry at him, and all the grace in her movent would disappear and she’d beat him relentlessly in raw anger. Normally I sat and watched in fascination, but once she started to headbutt and bite Woodie it was usually ti for to stop her and pull her back, let her lay on my lap pillow as I cald her down by stroking her head, turning her roar into a growl, and growl into purr, and purr into a gentlest snore as she fell asleep.
Shin had a lot of books in his house and I discovered he was an avid reader, especially classic literature. He seed particularly fond of Dostoyevsky, ironically citing Cri and Punishnt as one of his all-ti favorite books.
For personally, I had no particular ’favorite author’ as such, but I did enjoy reading the large collection of poetry books the old man had. Between her training, or sotis even during her training, Miho often asked to read them out loud for her, which often made for a bizarre scene of Miho beating up Woodie to the rhythm of Shakespearean sonnets.
Funnily enough, there were also a lot of music scores in the house, which Shin apparently bought with high hopes of hearing Miho play them soday - ’but the brat never even looked at them,’ he grunted.
While most of them were too hard to play, even for , he had a good sense to buy so that were very useful for beginners, my personal favorite Czerny scores and Hanon exercises proving to be particularly well suited for Miho to practice.
She improved very quickly, especially with Hanon. Her musicality had a lot to be refined, but she had a raw talent for dexterity that would make any aspiring musician jealous. Although I, despite being a little dusty, was still far ahead of her, when it ca to sothing like lower-level Hanon exercises she could burn through them faster than I ever could.
I heard Shin was a good cook but he never cooked. I would have protested and asked him to take up so cooking duties, but Miho always praised for my cooking and it has beco one of my great joys every day to prepare a al for her and watch her enjoy it.
Shin was mostly away during the day ti saying he had ’work to do’, so I never really asked him what he was really up to. It wouldn’t have done any good to know and certainly wouldn’t have given the peace of mind that I wanted to have and enjoy while these mundane days lasted.
Thankfully, I was allowed to ’leave’ the house if accompanied by Miho, but the area was limited to the large grass field behind the house. I was quite surprised when I left the house for the first ti though. While inside the house felt like a nice, big, and well-decorated mansion with a good blend of modern and antique styles, from the outside it looked like a factory or a warehouse with bland colored steel panels for walls and the roof.
Every ti we went out Miho warned repeatedly to NEVER EVER NEVER NEVER NEVER touch the fences as I’d die from electric shock. I trusted her enough to believe that so I stayed away.
The grass field wasn’t very well kept and there were lots of weeds growing. I offered to mow the lawn and do so gardening to Shin, but he rejected it by saying having a nice and well-kept garden in a ’factory’ lot would look suspicious as hell when seen from above.
Nevertheless, Miho and I had a good ti playing there. I was never good at sports but I did play so softball in elentary school, so I was at least a little better than the standard ’you throw like a girl’ level. Miho particularly liked playing catch with a baseball. While she always threw the ball back to in a way that was easiest for to catch, she wanted to throw the balls at least a few ters away from her at all tis so she could do all those fancy diving catches. In a way, it felt like this was also so form of ’training’ for her, but getting so exercise was a welco break away from the mostly indoor life I was forced to live.
The ’big job’ that we had to do eventually was always in the back of my mind and I dreaded the day that Miho would need to be thrust into action again - and she seed to be getting more and more ready for it each day -, but I must say these idle days I’ve been spending with Miho felt like the short but wonderful ti we lived together back in my flat. Despite the (very luxurious) prison-like environnt we were forced to live in, I wished that these days would last forever.
But of course,
It was never ant to be.
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