I sit there in the Ootori doctor's office, a place that seems so familiar to me. I look around and remember each individual time out of the probable hundreds that I've been present in this room.
Before, everything seemed decided. I knew what was happening, and the doctors were there to fix it. That's how things worked. But this is different.
My ten-year-old hands shake and tremble. From deep inside of me, a huge fear grows and spills over. I have a feeling that I know what this is, but I don't allow myself to think that way. I clench my fists tighter and my jaw closes so tightly I swear my teeth will crack. My eyes grow red and full, but I use all in my power not to let the tears stream down. I feel afraid.
The doctor re-entered the scene and I found myself looking up at him, my clenched fists vibrating again.
"What's wrong with me?" I hear myself asking in my mind. This man knows.
"Kyoya?" The doctor says from behind his clipboard. He sits in a rolling chair and faces his desk - away from me - to write on a few papers and seems to get out a notebook of some sort.
I stay silent, but tune my ears into everything he says or does. The answer is here...and I'm terrified of knowing it.
The man turns around, his fading black hair seeming silver in the well-lit examination room. He sighs rather heavily, not very professionally. His eyes come up from his black clipboard and meet mine. I start shaking again, my heart in my throat, trying to remind myself to breathe.
"Kyoya. As you are aware, we have been doing a few different tests recently, because your sister has said you are out of sorts. I assume you are quite curious as to what we have come up with and are probably thinking different options right as we speak."
I nod, my short hair getting messed up slightly with the force in which I move my head. I push my glasses up the bridge of my nose and let out a small sigh, bringing my hand to my side slowly.
"Yes, Fuyumi told me that she thought I needed help. I don't understand why, though. This is not what father would have wanted, sir. I should not be troubling you so much. I must apologize and bring myself out of your presence before either of us is ejected from the Ootori residence." My voice shakes by the end of my small speech and I make a motion to sit up.
"No, Kyoya. Forgive my firmness, but you must stay. We have a diagnosis."
At those words I freeze. He does know. There is something wrong with me.
"It seems as though you have clinical depression...and anxiety problems. You need a proper way to let out your feelings. One in which you can let it all go without fear of your father."
I begin to cry at this point. I can't help myself. "There's no way for me to make it to my father's expectations. I must keep trying. I cannot mess up again. He does not accept anything less than the best. I must keep going I need to-" I break off and start sobbing in the middle of the exam room. This is heartbreaking; I have depression. And I can't fix it.
"Kyoya, please listen to all I have," the doctor says after a little while. "You need to let out your feelings. So, I have this for you." The man hands me a black notebook, standard size, with beautiful paper. I instinctively stroke the spine and feel the thickness of the papers. So smooth...
"You are to write down anything and everything you think, feel, or react to in this notebook. You will have to keep this with you as often as you can, and you must write the truth. It should help you to get yourself to understand what you feel. Most people feel relief as they write into their journals. Please take care, now, and I will see you on your next scheduled visit."
I stand up slowly, in shock and rather hurt. I look at the notebook as I walk back to my room, carefully avoiding my father and older brothers. I sit on my bed and look at it some more.
"Thoughts, emotions, reactions, hmm...?" I frown at it and put it under my bed, for safe keeping. Along with it is a pencil.
And I think about it all night.