He had always thought therapy was for people with mental issues, or depression yet Seto Kaiba found himself sitting in the waiting room of a psychiatrist. Casually, he reflected on the events, the burnout that led to him taking time out of his day to talk about non sense. Finally, his name was called and he was led into the dark, distinguished office. Behind the dark cherry wood desk sat Dr. Kisara, the fair haired woman that was in charge of his mental recovery. She had wide blue eyes covered with black horn rimmed glasses. Her voice was calm, soothing, and she treated Kaiba with respect.
"How was your week Seto?" she asked as she drew the drapes. The office was cast in shadows and darkness. It made him feel more comfortable, knowing she couldn't read his face.
"Fairly normal. Didn't sleep well though," he answered. Kisara wrote on her notepad thoughtfully, before she began to chew on the end of her pen.
"Are you having nightmares?" Kaiba smirked in the shadows.
"That's relative," he quipped. She wouldn't let him get away with evasive answers.
"That doesn't answer my question," she scolded firmly. Kaiba bit his lip while he prepared to answer the invasive question.
"Yes, I'm having nightmares," he admitted, painfully, shamefully. Nightmares were a sign of weakness, proof of vulnerability. He hated coming to terms with something that he couldn't control.
"And what are these nightmares about?" he questions probed deeper, cracking the walls that he had spent years building around himself. Seto looked at his hands, folded in his lap and took several deep breaths.
"The only thing they all have in common is Gozaburo," he confessed in a shaky voice that seemed to belong to someone else. Kisara rocked in her office chair, delicate hands folded in her lap.
"Gozaburo seems to be the root of most of your issues. I think it's about time we talked about him," she guided softly. Kaiba winced in the shadows.
"No," he stated simply. She sighed, knowing it would be an uphill battle to get him to talk. Leaning back, she crossed her legs and tapped her heeled shoe on the floor.
"Then why do you bother coming to therapy if you're not willing to confront the root of your problems?" she questioned thoughtfully. He was caught slightly off guard.
"Because I don't have problems, I can't confront what I don't have," he quipped back. Rewarded with another sigh from his doctor he smirked, thinking he had the upper hand.
"You have constant recurring nightmares, relationship and intimacy issues, you're Narcissistic to a fault, and you seem to be in denial of all of it. I'd call that a problem Seto," she injected professionally. The man was caught between a rock and a hard place. Everything she had just said was true, but he couldn't admit that, but denying it would only prove her point. Either way he was screwed. The was a long pregnant pause while he formulated his response.
"And who decided that these were problems and not personality traits?" he deviated. Forcing a wry smile Kisara opened the blinds blinding him with warm sunlight.
"Nightmares are not a personality trait, and neither is the inability to identify with human emotions and failure to bond with people. I'll give you the Narcissism and one night stands you admitted to as part of your personality, but the rest doesn't belong," she declared firmly, gauging his reaction. Kaiba remained stoic, refusing to show his emotions in the light. He hated her tactics, she didn't beat around the bush. The same things he hated about her, were the same things he liked about her. He loved how she used her mind, but hated how she used it to delve inside his head. With another sigh she went back to her original topic, and shuttered the blinds again casting the office in shadows.
"Now, tell me about Gozaburo," she ordered in a firm, sweet voice. Kaiba shifted uncomfortably and folded his hands in his lap. He was quiet, reflecting on the monster that adopted him. Finally, words found their way to his mouth.
"Gozaburo adopted me and Mokuba when I was ten. He didn't see me as a child, but as a machine to be fine tuned and worked constantly. I was allowed seven hours of sleep a night, and three meals at his instruction but...I never got to make friends because I was home schooled, I didn't get to go to the park or have fun because Gozaburo thought it was a waste. He was very loud, stern and violent. It was hard to know what to expect from him. For the longest time I was afraid of him, I saw him as a brute, not a man. I think he enjoyed pushing my limits and tormenting me," he rambled quietly while Kisara sat listening intently.
"Did he ever touch you or congratulate you on an accomplishment?" she prodded gently. A deep silence filled the room briefly, but she could feel the change in tension with her inquiry.
"He never hugged me, but there were a few times I received accolades instead of admonishment." Immediately the doctor noticed a red flag and delicately tried to address it.
"You said he never hugged you, did he ever touch you in other ways?" The tension thickened again and Kaiba stuttered before taking several deep breaths. Naturally, he tried to avoid the question.
"That's not important." Kisara frowned and rocked in her chair. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered one to him as a distraction. Sometimes it took odd things to get people to talk. At first he scoffed at the offer. "Only idiots smoke, it's an expensive, disgusting, useless habit," he remarked. She pulled one out and threw the pack to the coffee table with a lighter. An ash tray already sat empty near the center. Rummaging around for another lighter in the desk Kisara lit the cigarette in an attempt to persuade him to take the distraction. Eventually curiosity caught the best of him and he lit one, coughing on the smoke that filtered through. He took a few small puffs.
"Did Gozaburo ever touch you?" she asked again. She ashed her cigarette and waved smoke away from her face. Kaiba grabbed the ashtray and set it in his lap, staring at the amber glass.
"I don't think touch is the right word," he offered quietly. Resting her hands on her bare knees she tugged at her black skirt to keep it in place.
"What word would you suggest?" The silence was almost deafening. Finally, she was making progress, albeit slowly, but he was opening up, a little bit at a time.
"Violate," he offered. The smoke drifted up in spirals and circles, keeping the man's attention slightly diverted.
"How old were you when that occurred?" she interrogated gently, taking a puff of the cigarette.
"Started," he corrected cryptically. "and I was 12." Kisara closed her eyes and crushed out her cigarette. She hated that things like this happened. It disturbed her and made her hurt deeply.
"How long did it go on for?" she asked in a whisper.
"Until the end...too long," his voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. The woman didn't want to push him any further, the session was nearing an end and she didn't want to overload him.
"I"m going to recommend a book for you-" she began, but was abruptly cut off by the young CEO.
"I won't read it," he protested. Kisara rolled her eyes and feigned a smile. She had forgotten how stubborn he really was.
"Fair enough. I should have seen that coming. Have you ever kept a journal?" she tried instead. Kaiba bit his lip and blushed. He considered it an embarrassing secret.
"Yes." His answer was curt and stammered. Kisara smiled with re-assurance, and opened the blinds slightly so they could see each other.
"How long have you kept one? Would you mind if I read them?" Her questions frustrated the man. What interest did she have in those? He thought it was stupid, and couldn't justify why he had to write down his daily thoughts and mishaps, he just had too.
"Since I was adopted...I suppose. I don't know why you'd want to," he answered, mildly trying to insult her. Instead she smiled and stood up. Kaiba couldn't help but stare at her long legs in her knee length skirt and black heels. It looked so flawless on her. Reaching over she grabbed a card and wrote down his next appointment.
"You'd be amazed at what you can learn about a person just from their handwriting," she offered, handing him the card, which he took reluctantly. Seto refused to meet her gaze and put the card in his wallet.
"What does yours say about you?" he asked, turning the tables. With a genuine smile she sat on the arm of the couch and turned to him.
"It says I'm logical, neat, precise. But, it also reflects my mood, If I'm angry I write harder, sad my letters shift, when I'm happy my letters look bouncy, when I'm focused my handwriting is thicker, more elegant and when I'm distracted it's all over the place, but this varies from person to person," she explained while Kaiba discreetly checked her out. Her skin was milky white like her hair and she was lithe and curvy, well proportioned.
"Interesting," he lied. He really didn't care, his mind was on something else already.
"So I'll see you next week," she declared, walking over to the door. Kaiba stood up and nodded in agreement before he left. He couldn't believe what he had divulged.
Obviously, he reasoned, he wouldn't be going back.
A/N Posted and finished by request! I have absolutely NO ideas where to go with this from here or what to do next. I've got some very basic ground work laid here and nothing else. Ideas are welcomed and encouraged! Please help me out with this and give me a direction to take this!
Like with the other story No Reviews No new chapter- especially because I'm stonewalled with this one.
Thanks for requesting this, I hope you enjoyed it!
I know the cigarette thing was a bit derpy but I was grasping at straws and it was the best I could do, I might edit it later.
See you at the end of the next chapter!