A/N: This chapter is based on my very strange experience today (I've been laughing about it ever since). Remember the first story in this one-shot collection—the one I did as my test essay? Well, for the purposes of this chapter, let's just pretend Miharu wrote something like that on his exams. Keep in mind that this actually happened to me—well, most of it anyway. I didn't really put much effort into writing this so I'm sorry if it sucks.
Misunderstanding
Miharu walked calmly down the school hallway, the sound of his footsteps echoing inside the near-empty floor of staff rooms and offices. He was heading towards the Student Services Centre with dread in his stomach. He would never let it show on his face, but he was panicking. He got good grades and was a good student—it seemed that way in the eyes of his teachers, at least—so what could he possibly be called in for?
Please inform ROKUJOU MIHARU that s/he has an appointment at the Student Services Centre on Tuesday at 10:20.
He reflexively crushed that note in his hand, anxiety gradually taking control of his senses.
Here goes nothing, he thought as he tentatively knocked on the school counsellor's office door.
"Come on in," a tender female voice called out.
Miharu entered the small room and softly closed the door behind him. He walked up to the woman and unfolded the crumbled note in his hands to show her. "I was told that I have an appointment today."
She took a quick glance at the sheet of paper and a look of realization crossed her face. "Ah, Rokujou Miharu, thank you for coming. Please sit down. And don't worry, you're not in trouble."
That was a relief. Miharu's tense shoulders relaxed somewhat and he took a seat in one of the two single sofas opposite the counsellor's desk.
"Now, do you remember that story you wrote for last month's exams?"
Then it dawned on him. It all made sense.
Of course he remembered that story. It had been quite a risky topic to write about. But he had felt the need to express his concerns into words.
The woman continued, "It's just a government policy that all stories containing strong themes such as death, murder and suicide are followed up on. We need to make sure that you are not thinking about hurting yourself or taking actions like those mentioned in your essay."
He wanted to laugh. What an amusing situation this had turned out to be. "Oh, no, it isn't like that at all. You see, I wrote this story about a friend of mine."
"A friend?"
"Yes. There was a time when he didn't want to live anymore; he just wanted to give up on life. It hurt to see him like that. And this was simply a way for me to vent those feelings."
"And what about now? Is he still like that?"
"No, not anymore. Of course there will be times when he feels like it's all a bit too much to handle. Don't we all have moments like that? Those times are hard, but I think it's gotten better, much better."
She nodded in relief. "I see. That's good to hear."
"Trust me, everything's okay now."
"I believe you," she insisted. "I'm sorry for making you come here, but, like I said, it's a policy. And just so you know, I read your story, and might I say that it is quite a powerful piece."
Miharu nodded understandingly, thankful that this hadn't been at all as bad as he'd expected.
"Just one more thing before you leave. If your friend is ever feeling down or miserable, tell him I'm always available here in my office."
"Thank you, but I doubt that will be necessary."
"So he hasn't had any suicidal thoughts recently?"
Just before Miharu could answer, the telephone in the room started ringing.
The woman picked it up and answered, "Hello... Oh, okay." She covered the speaker with her palm and told Miharu, "It's Mr. Kumohira. He wants to talk to you."
Miharu walked over to the phone, curiously wondering what his teacher and mentor wanted at a time like this. "Hello?"
"Rokujou!" called Thobari's frantic voice from the other end of the line. "Get here right now! It's Yoite! He's jumped off the roof!"
Without needing to hear any more, Miharu hung up the phone and turned back to the counselor. "I'll have to get back to you on that last question."
With that, he hurried out of the office to help Yoite out once again.
A/N: Obviously I changed a few things to make this seem more like fan fiction and not just a boring journal entry. In actuality, I spent a lot more time (about ten minutes) in that office explaining to the counselor where the ideas for my story came from and how I'm not suicidal and that I'll ask for help if I ever feel depressed, and so on.
