The child holds me in his hand, his sweat causing me to slip slightly. He uses me each and every day, my bristles drawing the black lines to form his neat kanji. I slip despite the callouses from his hand that occurred from practicing with his zampaktuo each day. Despite practicing with the blade each day, he finds that he uses myself more because that woman doesn't help. Instead she watches him, not going and drinking like he thinks she does. She used me once, but he didn't like it. He knew. He is frustrated, which is why his hands are sweaty. This occurs day, after day.