Summary: Looking at Kagome Higurashi, you'd never know that she carried a secret storm. Her therapist suddenly quits on her, and she must go to find someone else to help her. She struggles to keep her new therapist out of her life. She tells him the best of her is gone. Why won't he believe it? Kagome's POV.

"Talking"
"Sign Language"
Flashbacks

Another chapter. You can all get off my back now... Besides, if you're on my back about updating anymore, it'll snap in two. Then I can't work on it! Alright, I'm joking...

Best of You
Chapter 2: Another Session

Not like anyone else can. If they were to know the things that happened, they'd snap. I know that any of my friends would have gone insane from hearing some of my stories. So, I keep them inside. I don't talk to keep away from any conversations that may tempt me to say them.

That's just how it is.

- - -

And that's how it still is, despite my therapist's opinion. Who cares what she thinks? She's too kind for her blood, let alone mine. I wish she'd stop talking. My head hurts from listening to her already. I can't wait for this session to be out.

"And, despite what you think, these sessions can help. You've made great progress since the first time we talked!" She says. I raise an eyebrow, wondering if she even remembers that to begin with. I left in the middle of her talking the first few sessions. Now I've suppressed the urge.

Although, I have to admit, that the more she talks, the more I'm tempted to do it again. I guess I shouldn't, because then she'll tell my employees and they'll get upset. Then Sango may ask what happened. And I have a really hard time not telling her my problems.

"So, how was your day? Was it nice? I'll bet it was!" She's patronizing me. If you heard her talking, you'd assume that there was a five-year-old in the room, listening to her every word. No, that's not the deal at all. There's a 27-year-old stuck in here, trying to think of anything to block her excessive talking out.

"Kagome, you'll never match up. You're a failure to everyone. Especially your mother!" The man shouted. I looked at my mother, hoping that she'd stand up for me.

"Mommy loves me. She says she's proud of me because I got a good letter from my teacher..." I try to explain. Rather than the man believing me like I thought, the picked me up by the neck...

"Kagome, you're doing it again." I hear someone say. I jerk my head towards my therapist, wondering what she just said. What time is it, anyway? I look at the clock, groaning inwardly. I still have nearly 30 minutes with this woman.

"What were you thinking about, Kagome?" She asks. She's patronizing me and treating me like I'm less than her. Just because I didn't take years of college that taught me how to belittle others doesn't mean I'm less than her. Well, I guess it kind of does. I haven't had the patronize-the-patient training yet.

She must've gotten a good grade in that part of therapy school.

"Kagome, listen... You have to tell me what's going on in your head. That's the only way any of this can get better." She says. I look at the door longingly. Who said that things were bad to begin with?

"Stop talking to me, you retarded woman." I say in sign language. She, of course, doesn't know sign language. So, I get on with my little victory while she attempt to guess what I just told her. She looks down at something, as if it'll provide the answers for her. I get up and leave.

I'm not going to put up with this much longer. They won't get me to talk. It'll take a miricle, and they're everything short of it. Yet, they still think that they can solve everything. They can't solve everything... No one can...

"You think that you can help me, don't you? You think that there's a problem with me, don't you! There's nothing wrong with me, Kagome! You can't help those who don't have problems!" He blared at me.

I stare at the sidewalk as I walk back to work. I take in a deep breath then let it out. I look around, wondering if, perhaps, I should go to a bar. I've heard from some people that drinking takes your problems away.

Although, from experience, I have to say otherwise. I think that when I drink, I remember even more. One of these days, I'll get so drunk and remember so much that I'll do something... I'll hurt myself, or I'll tell someone what's going on.

The thought of talking when I'm drunk is enough to make me think of something else. Perhaps Sango will help me out, since she knows her drinks very well. Working at the bar for two years will do that for her.

I walk back to the club, taking in everything around me. Things were a lot different when I first built the club. I remember why I built it, too. I wasn't even aware of money at the time. I just wanted a place where people could feel comfortable. Where they could sit around and chat.

In my mind, I had envisioned it to be a really comfortable environment. I could come up and talk to my customers and hang out with them. I'd be able to D.J some of my own things, when I was in the mood. But, that won't always be true.

I'm an introvert, so I can't get up and just be the D.J that easily. That takes too much guts for me, and it'll require me to announce when the songs are coming on. What am I gonna do, sign language? I don't think so.

I'll never be the way I had hoped. I can't walk around my club and make small talk with them like we were old friends. All I can do is watch as the same people come in night after night. It's relieving to see that the same people are always here. They even bring friends. Then their friends come in frequently.

The down room has gotten popular, to my surprise. I thought that the club was doing well, so I purchased a lot more property and built on it. There's a small hallway in the back, right next to the bar. Go down it, and it's almost a separate building. In that section, I have the down room and the VIP area.

The down room is more of the relaxing place. You can hit a buzzer that's on a table, and someone will come to you and give you whatever you want. It'sa lot like the restuaraunt, but it's more relaxed. While the restaurant is more formal, the down room is fine to wear your torn jeans and year-old jacket to. No one minds. The down room allows smoking, too.

So, here I am. I'm back at the club, and I'm glad. The club is where I live. I had enough money for this, or a house. I didn't wanta house, since you can't get income off of it. So, there's an upstairs to my club. That is where my entire way of living is. Oh, it's locked really well, I have a code that you use to get the elevator to even come down, and then there's a lock once you get up there.

I don't want anyone in my 'home' without me knowing.There are only three people with the key. Me, Sango, and Miroku. They're the only ones who haven't attempted to steal from the club since they started working here. I figure that I can expect the same thing from them when it comes to my personal posessions.

I go up to my house, feeling somewhat hungry. Nosy people can give anyone an appetite. I walk up to the fridge, grabbing a soda from it. I don't like to eat lunch. Having anything during the mid-day is pretty rare for me...

"You're fat! You aren't getting lunch money until you can learn to manage your weight. Don't even think about trying to sneak food! You're just a fat child, Kagome!" He taunted. I looked down at my stomach, knowing that he was right. All the other girls were slimmer and prettier, yet I was fat. How horrible...

I set my near-full can next to the seat. I'm not thirsty right now, I guess. Besides, soda isn't good for your body or your teeth. Rots them fast, from what I hear.

I sit down on my bed, sighing. So, tomorrow will be the eighteenth. It'll be exactly three years of useless therapy. It'll be exactly fourteen years of not talking.

I guess tomorrow's going to be a big day. Should I celebrate it? Wait, I am celebrating it. It'll be exactly four years of having the club open. That's why we're doing all these preparations.

I don't know if I should be happy or not. I guess it's another day of life that I should be thankful for. But, with things like they are now, I don't know how to be thankful for life. If anything, I think I'd rather be thankful for impending death. I'll die sometime, and that's comforting... I guess...

"You're going to live long, just so you can see the damange you've done! You've ruined your mother's life, Kagome! You're going to pay for it by living long! You'll live long and have things worse than she has them! That'll be your punishment for troubling her now!" He announced to the world. That was to be my punishment, but I didn't understand what I could have possibly done wrong.

Maybe living long isn't as good as some people chalk it up to be...

Next time on The Best of You...
Sure, I have my problems, but doesn't everyone? The point is this: Stop jerking me around! Just because I don't talk, they try harder and tell me I can depend on them. Then, when we hit the three-years-of-therapy mark, I'm given up on. I'm just a project that was assigned to these people. If something is too difficult, they quit...

Another chapter finished. So, do you like it?

Chapters that are short are caused by one of the following. If they're really short, then it's more than one: (1) I am depressed. (2) I am braindead. (3) I am tired. (4) I just cut myself and the blood is draining all my energy.

Thank you to all my reviewers! I've been depressed recently over my mother, and the reviews are helping cheer me up. If it weren't for those, I might not get back to work on Chapter 12 (I'm THAT far ahead of all you)

Next chapter requires... I think I need 20 reviews before you can get the next chapter!

- Bipolar Tangerine