Hisana

The first few weeks of class went by with surprising speed. I quickly got used to teaching, the class being so broad made it quite easy. The most difficult part was balancing projects, grading, and spending enough time with Rukia. I tried to offer help with her school work and sat down to talk with her most days after she got home from school. Often times, Renji would come home with her, making himself at home. I grew more and more comfortable with the kid; he was sweet and funny. I enjoyed his company and was happy to know Rukia had such a supporting friend. They both seemed to be enjoying their school, although often surprised with the customs of private school. According to their generous chatter about their classmates, it sounded as if they had no problems making new friends. This was reassuring to me.

During this time, my weekly sessions with Dr. Yoshida progressively changed until the majority of the time I spoke with Dr. Kuchiki. The two seemed to have switched roles and there were days we would meet in Byakuya's office. I grew increasingly guarded with Dr. Kuchiki. He was always kind and professional with me; however, I felt as if I couldn't bond with him the way I had with Dr. Yoshida. He was impersonal and detached from our sessions.

At the end of a particular session, I felt uneasy as I gathered my things. He was acting strange and seemed distracted, the whole session felt very unprofessional. A knot formed in my stomach as I said my goodbyes, anxiety increasing with every step. Dr. Yoshida noticed, as I figured he would.

"Hisana, are you alright?" I froze, as my earlier anxiety turned to panic. I didn't think I could discuss my discomfort without sounding rude. My brow furrowed instinctively as Dr. Kuchiki looked up at me from his papers, concern written on his face.

"Hisana?" I looked away from him, turning to Dr. Yoshida who stood and approached me.

"Let's step into the hallway for a moment. Dr. Kuchiki, please prepare yourself for our next session." He ushered me out into the hall, holding onto my arm gently. Once the door was shut, he turned his scrutinizing gaze on me, studying my features deeply. "What's wrong? Why are you so nervous?" I inhaled deeply, exhaling slowly. My eyes went to the door of Dr. Kuchiki's office. "Did Byakuya say something that upset you?" I shook my head, collecting my thoughts before speaking.

"I'm not feeling comfortable with these sessions anymore." He nodded, crossing his arms in thought.

"Why's that?"

"I just…" Sighing, I met his gaze. "I just feel like my sessions have become so impersonal. It feels like Dr. Kuchiki isn't there and I feel like I'm not getting anything out of my appointments." After thinking it over, I quickly added, "No disrespect to Dr. Kuchiki." I took another deep breath waiting for his response.

"I see." He nodded, thinking it over. "It has to do with his approach? Or is it something you have picked up on through body language?"

"Both I guess." The knot in my chest had loosened and I felt a little ridiculous, almost childish, with my actions.

"How long have you felt this way?"

"A few weeks." He studied my face for a moment before answering.

"You've calmed down." Confused by his statement, I nodded.

"…I have." He smiled, laying his hand on my shoulder.

"Do you remember the goal we set during our first session?" Thinking back, I couldn't remember .

"No."

"You have already accepted everything that has occurred in your life. My job was always to help you learn how to cope with the anxiety your life has created. You're getting there." Some of our earliest discussions started coming back to me. "Before you know it, you won't have to come here at all." The thought was a little sad. I had grown to love my weekly sessions with Dr. Yoshida, they were a great comfort to me and when things started to get crazy or life felt a little out of control, it would always be solved within the walls of his office. He lightly touched my elbow. "I'm going to speak with Dr. Kuchiki, he can learn from this and next week we will try it again. Does that sound alright with you?" I nodded but before I could speak, Dr. Kuchiki pulled open his door. He started to say something but I turned my attention to Dr. Yoshida, embarrassed with my actions.

"Thank you, I'll see you next week." With my head down, I quickly headed for the exit.

Byakuya

Shit! Dr. Yoshida filled me in about the situation with Hisana, explaining that I need to remain consistent with my approach to each session. He said that he could tell a difference over the last few weeks as well but waited to see if I would recover on my own. It was bad enough that I had been called out on such a mistake, but to upset a patient in that way, nearly causing her to have a panic attack was appalling. This left me even more sidetracked throughout the day; I couldn't stop worrying about Hisana. I spoke with Dr. Yoshida about apologizing to her and after hearing his opinion I decided to drive to her house after work.

Once the day was over I said goodbye to my superior and quickly left the office. I punched Hisana's address into my GPS and left. It was late, the clock blinking 8:23, but I found a small floral shop on the way. Once inside I asked for a small bouquet of purple hyacinths and was reminded of my mother nagging my older brother, Katsurou, to offer them to his current girlfriend as a traditional apology. Ten minutes later I was pulling up to an aged house that had been transformed into multiple apartments. I saw the two front doors had numbers painted in bold on them but neither of them were the right one. After walking off to the side of the porch I saw a set of stairs which led to apartment three. Peering inside the small glass window, I saw another set of narrow stairs that led up to a hallway. I knocked loudly, anxiously tightening my grip on the flowers. After a short wait I heard footsteps and then her voice as she flitted down the stairs. Hisana peered out the window cautiously and hesitated to open the door. Finally she cracked it open.

"Dr. Kuchiki?" Her confusion leaked into her words. Once she pulled the door completely open, I offered her an apologetic bow.

"I am deeply sorry for my behavior. I hope you can forgive me."

"Wha-? Please, stop, you don't have to apologize." I stood up straight, offering her the flowers. She laughed nervously as her eyes widened. "Byakuya, this is unnecessary."

"No, it's not. My job is to help relieve your anxiety, not make it worse." I shook my head, feeling like an idiot over the days events. "If you have the time, I'd like to explain myself." She nodded, stepping back onto the stairs.

"Sure, please come in." The staircase was narrow and I had to duck to avoid hitting my head on the low ceiling. I followed her up the stairs, through the short hallway and into the kitchen. The room was small and open; it acted as a kitchen, a dining room and a studio. A few unfinished drawings were lying on the floor and an easel stood near the window with a canvas in place. It looked as though she had just started painting judging by the wet shine coming off of the painted surface. When I looked back at Hisana I noticed for the first time that she had paint on her clothes and arms, even in her hair that was pulled into a sloppy bun on the top of her head.

"I hope I'm not interrupting your work." She smiled pleasantly, looking shy.

"No, I was just messing around with some new paints." She pulled out a chair from the tiny two person table and offered me a seat. "Would you like some tea or water?"

"Tea would be nice. Thank you." She nodded, stepping over to the sink and filling up her rusty kettle before setting it on the stove. Quickly, she moved around the kitchen getting out a few small glasses and a jar of honey, setting it all on the table. Once we both had our tea she sat across the table, turning to me expectantly. I took a deep breath, already thinking over my words carefully.

"You are one of my first patients and it has been difficult for me to settle into a comfortable and professional relationship." Her expression shifted ever so slightly into one of surprise so I quickly finished my thought. "With all of my patients." She nodded, absently wrapping her small hands around her mug, her eyes never leaving me. "You're a very kind and intelligent woman; I enjoy talking with you. However," I paused, trying to sort things out before something stupid came out of my mouth. "After a few of our sessions and getting to know you better, I started to worry that I was being too casual with you. Then I started analyzing every conversation I've had with all of my patients, worrying that I had gotten off on the wrong foot." A soft expression now resided on her face as she leaned forward on her elbows.

"I see." I let out a quiet laugh, tasting my tea.

"I tend to overanalyze things." She smiled.

"Well, you're in the right profession."

Nodding, "I suppose so." She sipped her drink and then leaned back in her seat. "It's a delicate situation." She furrowed her brow.

"How so?"

"Well, the relationship between any type of therapist or psychiatrist and their patient is extremely off balance. In two weeks I knew, in detail, your life history simply by reading a file of medical reports and evaluations done by social workers. And this history only contains the notably negative events of your life, everything I'm sure you want to forget and put behind you. What do you know about me?" Hisana stayed silent, a thoughtful expression on her face. "You know my name, what I do for a living, and that every Monday at 9AM I'll be in my office ready for our session. That's it." A considerate and momentary silence fell over us.

"I never thought about it like that before." I nodded in response.

"It's a strange new thing to me. It's proving to be quite difficult."

"I'm sorry if I made you worry or doubt yourself."

"No, don't apologize. It's nothing you did, it is just a matter of learning." I finished my tea before going on. "I think it's most difficult with you because I know you're a highly functioning and capable member of society. It's obvious to me that you have effectively learned how to cope and deal with your past and its consequences. Honestly, I'm surprised you are still recommended weekly meetings." She laughed, smiling into her cup.

"I don't think I function as well as you think." I watched her carefully as she spoke into her tea. "I still struggle with severe anxiety on a daily basis. There are many days that I feel like I'll die if I have to get out of bed. I'm still struggling with a lot of things." As I thought over an appropriate response, a door was opened. Hisana looked up as a thin young girl walked into the kitchen. Her hair was wrapped in a towel and she donned pajama bottoms topped with a matching tank top. I knew she had to be Rukia. She was the spitting image of her older sister. At first she didn't notice me. Hisana gave me a dismissing glance and stood from her seat. Rukia turned and froze upon seeing me.

"Oh, sorry. Am I interrupting something?" Hisana shook her head.

"No, no." She gestured towards me. "Ruk, this is one of my therapists, Dr. Kuchiki. This is my little sister, Rukia." I stood, bowing in greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, Rukia." She smiled lazily, not seeming overly interested.

"Nice to meet you, too." Turning to her sister, she quietly said something about going to bed and having a test in the morning. Instinctively I stuffed my hands in my pockets, feeling for my keys.

"I should be going, it's late." Hisana gave me a hesitant glance before nodding, a small smile resting on her face. She quickly nudged Rukia towards the door until she disappeared into the hallway.

"Thank you for stopping by. It was unnecessary, really." I shook my head, pleased with my decision to apologize in person.

"I hope you can forgive me and we can continue to figure this thing out together."

"Of course." I stepped towards the staircase and she followed. "Oh and thank you for the flowers, they're beautiful." We said brief goodbyes and in the next five minutes I was already on my way home. My first reaction as I drove away was satisfaction with the outcome of events. I thought we had managed to discuss things professionally. I was happy that things had been resolved but the longer I thought about it, the more unsettled I had become. Did I fix the problem or make things more complicated? A strange feeling came over me, leaving me confused and exhausted.

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