In Time, Death

By Alesyira

Summary: Kagome finally gets to see a therapist, although the thing that makes her feel better isn't what anyone would have seen coming.

Therapy

- 1988 -

"So, you're my mystery appointment." The visibly aging visitor wore a simple cotton button up shirt over khaki pants. Kagome could sense some magic within him, but he looked very mortal.

He nodded to an empty seat in the cabin's sparse living room and sat across from it, pulling out a small yellow notepad and pencil. "What seems to be the problem, Miss Mystery?"

Kagome sat down and rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "Er, Kagome. My name, I mean."

He scribbled something on the notepad. "What would you like to talk about today, Kagome?"

"Well, I've been having these nightmares, lately."

He nodded and continued to write as she described some of the awful things she'd seen in her dreams. She talked about some of the self-coping she relied on, like having someone around to wake her from the worst of them or using barriers to minimize the resultant small disasters.

"Have you experienced something bad recently? Any accidents or deaths?"

Kagome twitched. "More than the usual."

He nodded slowly, absently rubbing his pencil eraser against the side of his nose. She felt a tingle of his magic slipping through the air in her direction. She watched him, unimpressed as the magic was thoroughly rebuffed. She wasn't sure what his game was, but if he didn't even know her name before coming into this meeting, then she wasn't going to just let him poke around at her with unknown abilities.

He jotted down a few more notes, his lips briefly quirking down into the smallest of frowns.

"And how old are you?"

Kagome frowned. "I'll be nineteen soon." Who knows, maybe instead I will be ninety soon, or nineteen forever.

He began writing something that seemed much longer than just her age. "Not yet married?"

"M-married? I-I don't see how—" she sputtered.

"How about any reasonable suitors? Plans to settle down in the next year or two?"

Kagome felt her face burn as she stared at him in utter confusion. "What? What kind of—"

He tapped his pencil on the notepad with slightly pursed lips as he briefly considered her. "I can't be certain due to some interference, but are you mortal? No parents or grandparents that you'd inherited a longer lifespan like our youkai hosts?"

She shook her head. "I'm human," she murmured, feeling completely bewildered and a little irritated that his questions might have any bearing on her problem with nightmares.

He nodded and put down his pencil, looking up at her with a kind smile. "Awful experiences like accidents and deaths can, of course, be quite traumatic. Nightmares are oftentimes the mind working out the horrible things we see and experience, giving fresh perspective to things that seem senseless, pointless, meaningless. With a few exceptions, time is the best cure for such things, and the nightmares will eventually stop."

Kagome figured the answer would be somewhat along those lines, but knowing she'd eventually stop destroying furniture wasn't quite as nice as having a solution she could work toward.

He smiled broadly at her, and she felt another brief sweep of his magic. She narrowed her eyes and blocked it again, wondering what the heck he thought he was doing. "I applaud your use of magic to contain any spillover damage. You might consider yoga and meditation to ground yourself and sweep out the negativity as a potential management tool." He paused here and wrote a quick note in the margin on the notepad. "I can also prescribe you medication to let you sleep soundly at night without disturbing others."

"But I shouldn't—" she began, only for him to cut her off again.

"Now, for what I believe might be the true cause of this trauma: It is only natural that you should feel upset about what you have seen and experienced. You are a human female, and it is to be expected to get so worked up over little things like death. Your lives are so short, and your gender is naturally weaker."

Kagome gasped, her mouth falling open in shock.

"Now, now," he gestured with one hand, a sweet and placating smile on his weathered face. "This is not true of all females. There are certainly some that are most assuredly suited to a life of violence and warfare!"

Kagome closed her mouth and counted to ten. Maybe he'd redeem himself in the next few sentences.

He nudged his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose with the tip of a finger. "It has been my experience that the females having the most problems accepting the inherent violence of life are the same ones that are best suited for caring for young and supporting their partners that want to go off to war."

Kagome blinked, then did a quick backwards count about what year she thought she was in, and how many decades ago this idiot must have been raised. "Sir, do you even know who—"

"Human women," he spoke over her, "by your age, usually have started looking at potential partners. Someone nice to marry and support you. Soft-hearted women with such short lifespans shouldn't need to see such awful things. Perhaps this is a wakeup call that you need to consider getting started on motherhood."

Kagome saw red. What kind of… She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Is this a joke?"

"Pardon?" he asked, that pleasant smile still plastered to his face.

"How old are you?" she asked, barely able to remain sitting.

He sat a little straighter. "I am two-hundred and fifty-seven years old."

Kagome ground her teeth together and did her best to keep her voice level. "And have you been living under a rock?"

He blinked. "I don't follow."

"In what alternate reality would telling me any…" her words failed her. She was so mad at his audacity that she was ready to…

She pressed her lips together. "I'll have you know, I'm…"

She was so angry!

He smiled kindly and held out a box of tissues. "It's alright to cry."

Kagome didn't consider herself to be violent, but her first idea to throw him off the training platform to take the quick way back down the hill was immediately shelved in favor of a swift punch to his nose.

He gasped in shocked surprise, cupping his hand over his face to hold back the blood. It dripped through his fingers and splattered over his notes.

She flexed her fingers, enjoying the satisfaction of the dull ache along her knuckles. "You, sir, have jumped to the worst conclusions. I have never heard such outlandish suggestions in my entire life, as short as it has been." She wondered if he'd been guessing with his suggestions. Maybe it was what some girls wanted to hear, and made sense to them? How the heck could he make such a wild assumption about her with so few details?

The corner of her mouth quirked in brief amusement as she thought about how he might react to the knowledge of what she'd been doing for the last few years. "I hope you take a long hard look at how you practice your craft, because this is unacceptable, and I need you to leave, immediately."

She hoped Shippo's 'pretty good' community therapists were nothing like this.

"B-but, your medication, at least?" he tried to ask, standing up.

"No! I can't hinder myself like that. Do you even know how risky that would be? Just go. Please, just go." Kagome folded her arms over her chest and glared at the male as he walked swiftly to the cabin door.

Gatai waited about an hour before he risked knocking on the front door.

"It's open," she grumbled, nursing a cup of tea.

He crept inside and glanced at her with a cautious look. "Sorry about whatever happened." He pulled up a chair and folded his hands on the table, a sheepish grimace on his face.

"Where the heck did you find someone with such antiquated ideals?" she asked, running her fingertip along the rim of her cup.

"Usually he's spot on. His power is what makes him an unbeatable counselor. He can find out what a person really wants to hear and it helps tailor his suggestions to seem like the best ideas."

Kagome scowled at him. "He tried and failed to use his magic on me more than once. Maybe if he'd mentioned what he was doing, and why, we could have worked together to come up with something that works for me."

Gatai sighed. "He's pretty stubborn. I haven't seen him make mistakes during one of these sessions with the kids, but I've seen him get other things wrong, and he really doubles down like he's on a crusade to make things correct by sheer willpower."

"I'm not sure if he told you, but he incorrectly guessed that I need to get married, stay home, and make babies."

"You don't?" he dared to ask, but the grin on his face revealed he was attempting a very poorly timed joke. Kagome did not smile, and Gatai winced. "We… uh… didn't give him any info about you ahead of time."

Kagome nodded. "That might have been for the best, but it turned out badly for his nose. I feel a little bad about hitting him."

Gatai shook his head. "Don't worry about it. He'll be good as new by tomorrow. While we like to be more civilized in our communities, oftentimes might makes right."

She took a long drink from her tea, then put her empty cup down with a sigh. "I've never been so disgusted by an elder's advice."

He smiled broadly. "There's a few hours left in the day. You can come outside and trade blows with someone ready to defend himself from an annoyed female that's perfectly capable of choosing her own path in life."

Gatai also got punched in the nose.

AN: this was short one, but I've been considering the idea for a while and wasn't really sure where I'd put it in the story. threw it together yesterday from my handful of notes. I thought it would be funny, but by the end of it I really wanted to toss the guy off a cliff. A lot of therapists and counselors do their jobs really well, but there are always bad apples in every bunch. I've heard some awful stories about some, and I have to wonder how many people wanted to just pop them in the nose ... or would that be assault? :( anyways, next chapter might be later this weekend :)