The therapist was seated in his office, waiting. He took a look around for a while. He was sitting in a fairly reasonably sized office, outfitted with chairs, a clock, a desk that had his work computer monitor sitting on top, and other things. There was also a variety of filing cabinet, each container holding a plethora of previous cases. Also on the desk had a sign that read: Rumiko Ishikawa - Therapist.
The lone window in his office had a vision of the outside world, although the dull, gray curtains were covering it. The daylight was still as bright as any other fall day. He decided to stand up to pull the curtains open, revealing the weak, but steady sunlight as it glimmered over his hair. The tall buildings of downtown were visible from the window, along with a few roads and cars.
Sitting back down, he checked a calendar. His previous case was just finished this morning, on November 2nd, 2008. There were several other insignificant markings on the calendar.
He looked at his computer monitor. There was a new case folder on the screen, along with a new document open as a minimized window. He looked over at the time in the bottom-right corner—11:47 AM.
He was suddenly met with a knock on the door to his office, probably from the receptionist.
"Come in."
The door opened to reveal the receptionist herself in a simple, yet elegant black and white suit. She made a gesture to another person who was following the receptionist. The other person entered. A woman, with long-ish brown hair and brown eyes. She had a depressed look on her, eyes drooped down. She took her seat on one of the chairs. The receptionist soon closed the door and footsteps could be heard. Those were the footsteps of the receptionist, walking back.
"Ah, you were the one who called earlier. Nakashima Natsumi, right?" he started.
"Yes, that's me."
There was a solemn look in her eyes, the look that he saw in many other patients before. The look of hopelessness. He was seeking to change that. No, he was expected to change that.
"So what's the problem here?"
He took this moment to adjust the tie of his work outfit.
She sniffled. "Well, it's about my daughter, Naomi."
Her daughter. What could possibly be wrong with her daughter?
"Go on," he said, typing on the computer.
"Well... it all changed a few days ago after school and well,"—she took a moment to wipe her tears—"I've never seen her so... depressed."
"How old is she?"
"16. She's a second-year high school student at Kisaragi Academy."
He typed the information and then scratched his head.
"Could you elaborate more on her depression?"
Natsumi gave out a heavy sigh. "She hasn't been going to school ever since the 29th. She never really talks anymore or anything! I've gone to a doctor also, and he prescribed some medicine."
She paused a bit to shudder suddenly. "And she keeps talking about her imaginary friend..."
"And who would that be?"
She thought about it for a while.
"She called her Seiko."
Rumiko entered the name into the document. He then saved the document and then looked up again.
"Ok, well, I have therapy sessions today, so..." He briefly paused to scratch his head. "Is it possible if you could bring her in tomorrow? I'd like to talk with her myself."
Natsumi had a tiny glimmer of hope visible in her eye. "Certainly."
"Also, give me a call if there are any changes tonight."
He handed her his business card, which had his phone number printed on it along with his email.
"Thank you so much! I'll keep in touch."
She gave him a smile.
"Yeah. Take care, now." He smiled back.
Natsumi soon walked out of the room, opening the door and closing it.
This case was going to be a strange one, wasn't it? He glanced over at the filing cabinets. There were some cases where the patient had to go to a mental hospital. But that was a worst case scenario. It rarely ever happens, and when it does, so far it's only been in depressed patients. There was still hope left for this patient.
Rumiko took a look at the document. What could mean her being stationary all day? It would be pretty hard to get her here probably if she persists.
Until then, he didn't know much of the patient. Although the imaginary friend case scenario was uncommon, most cases ended up having the patient in an asylum. He shuddered violently at the thought. There was no way; she was just a high school student. Most of the patients that go to the asylum are usually in their 30's. But, there were rare cases of young ones as well.
He must remain optimistic about the situation. Not much information yet, so he can't just jump to any conclusions. Personal problems are never easy to deal with. Patience is key to dealing with them.
He checked the time—11:58 AM. It's almost time for lunch. He stood up from his chair and went outside of his office. He walked through the lobby and went outside, deciding on his way what to eat for lunch.
He walked towards the nearest sushi bar and bought a take-out. He took it over to a nearby table and began to eat.
His phone started to ring in the middle of his meal. He put down his chopsticks and took it out. Opening the flip phone, the caller ID read Benkei Kazuki.
"Hey there, Ben."
"Hey, Rumiko, old buddy! How've you been?"
"Great! I was just introduced to a new patient today. Should be working with her tomorrow."
"I see, I see. Now about your 31st birthday coming up... when was it again?"
"November 7th."
"Oh, right. Well, I got a perfect plan for it; you just hear me out!"
The conversation soon went by a few minutes later and Rumiko early bid his friend goodbye. He put his phone away in his pocket and picked up his chopsticks to finish up his meal.
Once he was done, he soon discarded the tray into a trash bin and headed back to his office in time for a therapy session with another patient. He noticed a note on his desk. The note appeared to be printed, so there's no possible idea about who wrote it.
they once existed. their soul still exists, in another place
He didn't find much meaning from the note, considering the term 'they' is pretty vague. Still, he put the note inside one of his desk drawers.
The door soon opened, and one of the regular therapy patients walked in. The dark blue-gray hair woman entered her face a usual sullen expression.
"Hello there, Kizami."
Their therapy session was about to begin.
Quite a bit of time has passed in the day, and night had already fallen. The session was over a few hours ago.
Rumiko, who was still in his office, was typing away records on his computer. The traffic in the office dies down at night as most patients he had preferred sessions during daylight. Nevertheless, the office still remains open until 10 PM.
He was still trying to sort out files from his previous cases and sessions. Haruna Kizami, aged 25. Certified florist. Came in for coping with family issues.
The phone suddenly rang, and he was reminded about his deal with Naomi's mother. Without any hesitation, he picked up the phone.
"Yes, this is Ishikawa, how can I help you?"
"You're the therapist I talked to earlier, right?"
"Oh, yes. I am." He looked at the document about Naomi on his screen. "What seems to be the problem here?"
He heard an audible sigh come in through the speaker.
"Well, ever since this morning, she's been acting weird. She barely walks around now."
"She hasn't left the house ever since?"
"Yes, that's right. She hasn't stepped one foot outside her room today either."
There was a pause before she spoke again. Rumiko swore he could feel her shudder again like she did earlier.
"And she's still talking about that... friend of hers. I keep telling her, there's no such person."
Her tone started to change dramatically, almost as if she was pleading.
"And when I do, she gives me such a stare! I've never seen her look at me that way before. Never! Please... she was always such a bright and cheery girl..."
There was another sense of hesitation. He could sense tension, even between phone lines.
"Where... where did my lovely daughter of mine go? What happened to her!?"
Rumiko inhaled deeply and then exhaled. He started to speak into the receiver.
"Please, try to stay calm. This matter must be handed with the utmost care. Remember, your daughter has it even rougher than you right now. We mustn't think of her as a lost cause or she'll never get the help she needs."
He took a moment to check the time—9:40 PM.
"Rest assured, I'll do everything in my power to assist you. Let's work together to bring that happy little girl of yours back."
Her tone sounded more confident after his comforting words. "Yes, yes, you're right. Thank you. I feel much more better now just hearing you say that."
There was a period of silence as if she was contemplating on what to do now.
"I think... I'm going to check on her."
"Alright. Be careful, though. Try not to say anything that might upset her."
Rumiko heard the receiver click as she hung up. He also hung up as well. Staring at the screen, the words crossed his mind.
Seiko.
He had a feeling this wasn't a typical case. There was just that... gut feeling.
Of course, when he meets her tomorrow, it'll all make sense. Hopefully. He had to emphasize with her and see past the outer shell.
Hopefully, there was a way to crack that shell. But, there's almost always a catch to it.
He stood up from his chair and packed up to go home. He took his gray jacket over from the coat hanger and put it on. He also shut down his computer, turned out the lights and went outside into the hallway.
The receptionist has gone home, but the lights remained on. There wasn't a single soul in sight. This was the type of work environment Rumiko expected from the job. Always was a shy kid during school, he thought, but he was also a good listener.
During his school days, he'd notice some of his friends that would come to talk to him about their problems. He'd always listen and then gives his viewpoint on the matter. Some of his friends from school (like Benkei) come to visit him to hang out or get help, which is what his job is about.
The job was excellent, having his own office and receptionist and all. Hell, he'd consider the receptionist kind of cute.
But, he couldn't shake off the fact that he was digging into other people's affairs. It felt sort of, mysterious at times — privacy-infringing even.
Puffing out air at the thought, he turned off the lights and went out into the hallway. He went to the elevators and pressed the call button. His office was only on the second floor, so a ground floor elevator wouldn't take long.
The elevator arrived, and he took it downwards to the ground floor. Then, he walked outside into the streets.
What the catch going to be? His mind kept wondering as he strolled through downtown Fujisawa on his way home.
Where was Kisaragi located? He took out his phone and searched. It was in Tenjin, which wasn't too far from here. Her mother must've taken the train here. Probably no decent therapists around there.
He arrived at a five-story apartment building, which was where his home was located. He entered and made his way up the stairs
He hoped tomorrow would tell him the truth about the situation. It was his duty to solve it, but he had a feeling it wasn't as simple as it would be. Simple was never in his job description.
