He leaned back with a frustrated growl, having had no success in yet another one of his futile attempts to free himself. The cuffs still remained clamped to his fours after his savage mauling, and the chains stayed cemented in the walls no matter how hard he tried to release them.

He didn’t know how many days had gone by since his capture, having been unable to tell if it was the sun or the moon or simply lanterns that were the origins of what little light passed into the cell.

It seemed like a millennium had passed.
He knew he had to escape.
If he stayed in this place any longer, he would go insane.
It was a humiliation, being captured by humans like this.
Locked away in a cell like some sort of animal.

To them, he was nothing more than an animal.
Not capable of any intelligent thought or speech.

So far, however, that was how he had presented himself. The only sounds he uttered were the howls of a wounded, enraged beast, and threatening growls.
He was too mad to think and too arrogant to let those disgusting, ignorant creatures discover he was capable of speech.

He’d rather let them think he was a brainless demon inept at protecting himself against large groups of people, instead of knowing the truth – which was simply the fact that he got careless.

He looked down at his bloodied claws, wrists, and ankles.
He knew he couldn’t break the cuffs, and he had thought that maybe if he tore off some flesh, he could manage to get at least one of his limbs free. Then he could use the leverage to rip the chains from their home in the walls.

His plan proved to be nothing more than useless.
Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything since his entrapment…

He looked over to the buckets and barrows of pig, chicken, and duck flesh just within his reach. Despite his raging hunger he would not allow himself to show the humans that he needed them in any way. However he was starting to re-think this fasting deal.

Food would give him strength, and if he recovered his strength, he might just be able to…

The wooden door creaked, and he snapped back into alertness. It slowly slid open to reveal the small shape of the girl pushing along yet another barrow. Her soft footsteps and the turning of the barrow wheel echoed through the cell.

His hard glare was pinned on her, never leaving for a second. He had learned that she was the one who they assigned to bring him food, and supposedly ‘tend’ to him.

Judging by her tiny figure, he had guessed she was no older then twelve. The child of a servant, most likely. He recalled her being here countless times, each time just as nervous and taut as a drawn bow. It was clear that she feared him, having been locked in with him the first night he was here.

However, each time she came she would talk to him. Not long, irritating conversations. Little soft sentences here and there, as if to make sure he was still alive. Even though he could smell the fear that was practically pouring out from her every pore, she held herself together; did not simply race in and race out, but actually took the time to make sure the food was within his reach.

“Hello…..”

Her greeting was made, as usual, with a soft, whispered tone and a wavering smile; his greeting was a low, disapproving growl. Taking the smallest of steps, she carefully made her way towards him, showing him that she couldn’t possibly pose as a threat.

“I brought you some dinner…. It’s lamb…. The masters are away doing business, but after they bring back some money, I can persuade them to give you something better to eat.”

She talked softly, knelt down, and presented him with the food.
Neither movement nor response was made by the oni.

She sighed and lifted a tendril of dark hair to her lips. Biting her hair was a bad habit she had developed during her childhood in order to conquer constant nervousness.
It was a while before she spoke up again.

“… You have to eat. You haven’t eaten for a week, you need to eat something.”

Her voice was grave with worry. He knew she wasn’t worried about him. She was worried that her elders would scold her. He wanted to tell her to stop with all the goddamn fake courtesy and that it was making him sick.

Her eyes were cast down, and her bangs hung over her face, shielding her eyes from him. Suddenly, she caught sight of his wrists. She furrowed her brow in worry, then raised her gaze.

“Did you do this…?”

He growled. What do you think, wench?! I’m trapped like a fucking caged tiger, any idiot would want to free himself!
She crawled closer to him, on her hands and knees, her eyes inspecting his wounds.

“Gods, what are you trying to do, kill yourself?”

Her voice trailed off as she sat back down. Her eyes rounded the cold hard cell room with its hay-covered floors.

“… I suppose you’d want to, ne? Trapped in this God-forsaken place with no where to go…” Her voice was filled with pity not directed towards him.

“Being held captive, yet powerless to do anything about it…… groveling to live till tomorrow…… wondering if you’re ever going to be free……”

Her tone displayed no hint of mocking. Just a sad melody of whispered words that seemed to be projected towards nowhere. She sniffed a bit and rubbed her nose as she pulled herself back together.

“You need to eat. Without the strength food gives you, your wounds will get infected… then the masters would order someone to have it treated. You wouldn’t want anybody touching you, now, would you?”
She gave him one last smile then stood, straightened her apron, and headed out the door.

He remained still for a couple of seconds after she left, then dug his mouth into the food and ate and ate until he couldn’t anymore.