Disclaimer: Sailor Moon and all related characters are owned by Naoko Takeuchi.
The interior of the office was modestly decorated. Not that the teenaged patient noticed; she sat on the worn couch, fingers nervously lacing and unlacing, red eyes darting from side to side. Today she wore a white halter top and skirt; her pink hair, short and well groomed, barely brushed her shoulders. Her fingernails were plain and also kept short. No rings adorned her fingers.
Her red eyes paused momentarily, resting on the gaze of the other woman in the room. Upon eye contact the older woman, seated behind a desk, adjusted her glasses and smiled. The younger woman's expression turned wary; her eyes skittered away once more, darting around the room, alighting on each bland nature scene hanging on the wall before flitting to the next.
The older woman noted her patient's demeanor with interest. A real challenge, this girl was. Always had strange emotional attachments, even since she was a child; adolescence had merely unleashed the full form of her psychosis. It was pitiful, really, when you thought of it. But then again, what royal family didn't have a bit of madness rattling around in at least one of their expensive closets?
"Well, Chibiusa, shall we start today's session?" asked the doctor, brushing her bangs across her forehead.
The teenager nodded, her short pink hair bobbing up and down, her fingers working together restlessly in her lap.
The doctor reached out and pressed a button on a small battery-operated recorder resting on her desktop; a soft click and the machinery was set in motion. Her colleagues called her old-fashioned for using it, because here in Crystal Tokyo, many of them used the modern voice-activated mini-computers when recording patient sessions. But the doctor didn't like dealing with the high-tech recording devices. One power outage or false click or worse yet, a marauding virus, and the data would be lost forever. On tape, the sessions would remain forever until deleted or destroyed.
She picked up her notepad and pen, another oddity of hers. Pen and paper were as outmoded as the battery-operated recorder, but the doctor liked to use them both. The machine recorded the dialogue in her office, while the notepad was for jotting down her immediate thoughts and impressions as she spoke to her patients.
"I'm sorry about the setback you had last Wednesday," the doctor said, adjusting her glasses more firmly on the bridge of her nose. Another throwback to the past; her colleagues teased her for still wearing glasses instead of having eye surgery to correct her vision. She gestured toward the young woman's short hair. "And I'm sorry because it also shows me you still don't have enough faith in yourself."
"That's what you think, Doctor Mizuno," Chibiusa retorted hotly, her fingers kneading themselves into small knots, writhing like thin white worms on the pale green of her skirt. "You're the one who doesn't believe in me. But I'll prove you wrong. I'll prove you all wrong!"
Doctor Mizuno hid a grimace as she wrote on her lined notepad. Chibiusa had certainly proven everyone wrong over the past two weeks, when her former psychotic behavior changed so much for the better that she was declared fit to return home. Everyone had been proven wrong, save for the head palace guard, who'd kept her suspicious eye on the princess and thus managed to rescue her when she attempted suicide in the castle basement the previous Wednesday night.
Mortified, Mizuno had begged forgiveness from the Queen for being fooled by the teenager and even recommended another colleague take over the case. But Queen Serenity gently pardoned her old friend; the princess was psychotic, yes, but alarmingly clever and sly as well. For her to fool such a medical genius as Ami Mizuno showed the depth of her daughter's madness.
"All I ask is that you do your best with Chibiusa," the Queen had said.
So Doctor Mizuno continued doggedly on, as the teenager was returned to the expensive inpatient mental health facility for more counseling and treatment. The woman expected her patient to show apathy and despair upon her return to these surroundings; she was consequently bemused that, instead, Chibiusa showed newfound spirit. Even more so considering what had triggered the suicidal episode in the first place.
"I'm fine… well, not fine. But I'm okay. And I'm getting better. I feel a lot better about myself today. And every day," the teenager said.
The words were pleasing to the ear, but Doctor Mizuno would no longer be fooled by her patient's words and behavior. Aloud she said, "I'm very glad to hear that. Would you care to expound on that statement for me?"
Chibiusa's red eyes went blank, her fingers once again fidgeting. As tendons started to stand out in her long, pale neck, the doctor hurriedly interrupted, saying, "Let me rephrase that. Tell me why you're feeling better about yourself. Give me some details."
The teenager visibly relaxed. "I didn't have any of those dreams the last four nights. And I… I didn't miss them."
Doctor Mizuno studied her intently. "Not at all?" she asked, brushing her bangs across her forehead.
"No!"
The psychiatrist gave her patient an encouraging smile as she made another note. "You can tell me the truth, Chibiusa. It isn't something to be ashamed of." Liar, she said to herself.
The pink-haired young woman shifted her gaze to a potted plant sitting near the door of the office. "It's the truth. I didn't dream about… him… or… him, either." She paused, lips trembling, pressing her scarred knees against one another. "I-I dreamt about… H-Hotaru instead."
Ah. The doctor leaned forward, her encouraging smile brightening. "You haven't mentioned her since…" She gestured delicately toward the patient's new haircut. "Would you care to tell me about it?"
Chibiusa's lips opened, forming a dark slash across the stark whiteness of her face. "She was supportive. She didn't… she didn't make fun of me like the others. The others in here. And she… she was glad that… that I still lived."
She paused while the older woman made another note. Taking a deep breath, Chibiusa's red eyes skittered across to the closed door. They moved quickly up the wall to the framed certificates above the desk, certificates that proclaimed Mizuno to be not only a doctor of psychiatry but also a doctor of medicine. "I feel… no, Doctor Mizuno, I know that if she ever came to see me again, everything would be all right. I would be okay. We'd still be best friends."
Patient still blotting out reality re: loss of friendship with Hotaru Tomoe. Possible relapse into hallucinations likely, Mizuno wrote.
"I mean, I know why… why Haruka and Michiru don't let her visit anymore. But…"
Patient refuses to acknowledge Setsuna Meioh's role in forced separation from object of affection. Likely still views her as traitor… the thin ballpoint pen scribbled in neat, small letters.
"…but Doctor Mizuno… she is my best friend. My only friend. She needs me!" Chibiusa said passionately, her red eyes opening wide, hands spreading like a pair of white wings, encouraging, enfolding, entreating confidence.
"Mm-hmm," the doctor said in a non-committal tone, once more smoothing the bangs over her forehead. For eons, Chibiusa and Setsuna had been friends. When the heir to Crystal Tokyo's throne first began to exhibit more symptoms of her abnormal psychology, the senshi of time was supportive. But as time went by and the heir's madness escalated, resulting in her eventual incarceration in the sanitarium, Setsuna's visits had slowed and finally stopped. Privately the Ami disapproved, but said nothing about it to the tall dark-skinned woman when they met at each other's homes on social occasions. The doctor's professional life was kept from her private one; if Setsuna chose to distance herself from the psychotic girl, Ami Mizuno was definitely not going to force her friend to stay in touch. After all, as Setsuna pointed out, it wasn't adversely affecting the time stream. Cold as it sounded, time was all that mattered as far as the dark-skinned woman was concerned. At least, that was what she told Ami. Personally, the doctor thought that Setsuna missed her young friend, but was too dignified (or embarrassed) to admit it.
"Tokime Sengoku isn't a real friend to Hotaru. So what if they're in the same class? She's only using Hotaru because her parents are rich. I'm rich too! My parents are the rulers of Crystal Tokyo and I'm the heir to the throne! There's no excuse for it!!" Chibiusa continued, clenching her fists.
But you're no longer the heir to the throne. Doctor Mizuno held up a hand to stem the flow of her patient's words; she'd learnt the hard way that putting a quick end to her patient' tantrums was better than pleading with her to calm down. And whenever the teenager mentioned inheriting the throne, it was imperative that she was calmed down quickly. "Chibiusa… just because Hotaru has a new friend doesn't mean that she doesn't love you anymore."
"But that's just it! She does love me! She does! And I still love her even though she betrayed me!" the teenager exclaimed, her voice shaking. Mizuno remained silent yet watchful, knowing this statement could be a turning point in the session. It was, after all, the discovery that Hotaru had gained a new friend at school that triggered Chibiusa's suicide attempt.
The pink-haired teenager stared directly into her old friend's eyes, her red ones sharp and piercing, red hot with the anger of loss. Then her gaze dropped heavily to the floor, her hands lying still on her lap. "I love her… and I love my father too, even though he…"
She shut down, her red eyes wide and staring, now fixed directly on one of Doctor Mizuno's professional certificates that hung discreetly on the wall near the door. The psychiatrist watched her patient carefully, assessing her, blue eyes taking in the quickened respiration even as they hid behind steel-rimmed glasses. Was she going to go into a catatonic state?
The teenager snapped out of the trance as quickly as she'd gone into it. "No, I don't. I don't love him. He betrayed me. He agreed to send me to this… this… "
Resentment of father continues, Mizuno wrote."I don't love him. I don't, I don't! I hate him!"
The doctor sighed. She'd told her patient many times that just because she was not supposed to love her father romantically, it did not mean she was supposed to hate him. Chibiusa just could not understand this aspect of emotional attachment; indeed, since her first psychotic break nearly two years ago, most of her emotional reasoning facilities had deteriorated.
"Very well. So you hate him," Doctor Mizuno said, trying another tack. "Do you hate your mother too?"
Chibiusa's eyes snapped to the doctor. "No. I love my mother."
Liar, the doctor thought again. "Do you?" she said aloud. "That's good to hear."
The teenager nodded. "And I love my… my… my little brother," she whispered, red eyes darting wildly around the room, fingers writhing in her lap again, betraying her words.
Doctor Mizuno sighed, forgoing another note. It was redundant at this point; at the rate Chibiusa was responding, within ten minutes she would have to be forcibly carried back to her room. The doctor's hand rose, touching the scar on her forehead; the hair surrounding it was now slowly growing back, partially hiding the ugly mark. She smoothed her bangs across the scar for the fourth time that session.
"You must be happy your parents allowed you to choose his name," she said evenly. "I'm sure it reassured you that they do still love you."
Chibiusa's face crumpled, and for a second the doctor thought her patient was going to start crying. But then the young woman mastered the impulse, clenching her fists again as she said, "Yes, I was glad. Especially since Papa approved of the name first. But then, he was always nicer to me than Mama. Always…"
Doctor Mizuno, recognizing the danger signs, reached under the desk and pressed the button, triggering the silent alarm. The last time she'd used it was just before the attack on her by Chibiusa three months ago. The young woman, descending into one of her psychotic breaks, had attacked her doctor in this very office, knocking over the desk and ripping out a piece of her scalp. It had taken five male attendants from this, the interior of Crystal Tokyo's mental health facility, to pull her off Ami.
"My father was always handsome. And will always be handsome," Chibiusa went on, her eyes misty, lost in the lustful dreams she enjoyed about the King of the Earth. "He's almost as handsome as Helios. But Helios is good looking enough, especially when he's a unicorn."
She giggled; almost perfunctorily, Doctor Mizuno wrote, Electra and bestial complexes still strong. Mannerisms indicate approaching psychotic break; suggest initial cocktail treatment of lorazepam w/ haloperidol, followed every half hour by same if no improvement seen.
As she set her pen down, the doctor heard the faint sound of approaching attendants coming down the hall outside her office. Chibiusa heard them as well; her head jerked upright as she abruptly stood, facing the door. "They won't get me again!" she hissed.
"Chibiusa, they're not going to hurt you. They – we – just want to help you," said Mizuno evenly, her hand instinctively reaching for the stun gun she kept underneath her desk.
The young woman's eyes spat fire at the doctor. "Liar! You want to keep me off the throne! You think I'm crazy! That's what you told my mother! That's why she got pregnant with my new brother, the little brat! My father already loves him and he isn't even born, it isn't fair, he's supposed to love me, only me… nobody loves me anymore, not even Hotaru… or Setsuna… or you…"
She slumped down to the carpeted floor, sobbing. Relieved that her patient wasn't going to cause a commotion like the last time, Doctor Mizuno rose to her feet as the attendants burst into the room. She tore off the last note from her pad and handed it to one of the attendants while the others gently yet firmly pulled Chibiusa to her feet. "Take her back to her room, please. Have her nurses follow this and keep her under constant supervision."
The attendant glanced at the paper and nodded. "Yes, Doctor Mizuno."
As the sobbing teenager was escorted out into the hallway, Ami allowed herself a brief moment of gratitude, her shoulders slumping as the tension seeped out of them. The girl's psychosis was getting no better; if anything, it seemed to be worsening. The doctor didn't know how to break this news to the Queen. It was hard enough watching the girl, Chibiusa, grow into this troubled person; envisioning the devastated look on the Queen's face upon hearing her professional diagnosis made the doctor want to weep.
She walked over to the office window, folding her arms as she peered down the fifteen floors at the bright gardens outside the sanitarium. Chibiusa's hair was too short to try and hang herself with again, so she wasn't concerned about that. But surveillance of her room was necessary, of that there was no doubt. If the head palace guard, Haruka Tenou, hadn't been paying attention to the teenager when she slipped down to the castle basement that last Wednesday evening, the former heir to the throne would be dead by now.
Mizuno did not allow herself to wonder if that would not be the best solution for everyone.
The doctor removed her glasses and wiped them with a soft cloth, sighing resignedly. Then she sat down, smoothed her bangs over her forehead and pressed a buzzer on the desk, signaling to the attendants that the next patient be brought in.