Author's Note: This is the other that I had the idea for two weeks ago. Again, we see Japan suffering became of the Woman in Red. This time however, he's with a new therapist. I've noticed that therapists in this project either die or turn out to be evil. The match pretty much wrote itself out. I don't know what I am doing next week. Something will come to me as you enjoy this match.
Match Twelve: Hachishakusama:
Kiku has a new therapist today. The younger man sat across the room in his black and grey suit. He took out a notepad and began taking notes.
"Do you think you're having a nervous breakdown?" he asked. Kiku looked like he hadn't slept in days. He bit down on his thumb.
"Yes," he said.
"What do you think is the cause of it?" the therapist asked. The Woman in Red stood in the corner on Kiku's side of the room. She didn't speak. Does she really need to? The older man lowered his dull eyes.
"I'm scared of her," he whispered. The therapist raised his eyebrow.
"Sena-san?" he asked. Kiku shook his head.
"Then who?"
"I can't say." This is what happened the last time he was in therapy. These lines of questions led to the last doctor's death. The younger man quietly took notes.
"How long have you had these nightmares?" he asked.
"Over two years," Kiku muttered. The clock ticking in the background reminded him that the end was near. He looked down at his black, swollen wrists. He could feel the skin starting to itch again.
"Are they staying the same or getting worse?" the therapist asked.
"Worse."
"Tell me about them."
"I can't."
"Well, do the best you can? Are they consistent?"
Kiku nodded once. He didn't look up as his therapist took more notes. What could he be writing? The younger man's hands reminded him of his former therapist's. Kiku pressed his lips together.
"What did they tell you about me?" he asked. The therapist looked up.
"Excuse me?" he asked. Kiku drew his knees to his chest.
"My other therapist… they found him in the toilet…" he said.
"Yes, I read it in the news," the younger man said. "Such a tragedy." Ah yes, the other therapist. It was a horror the way he was found. The therapist was found dead in the stall with his throat violently slashed. The investigation turned up some rather disturbing details. It didn't look like a blade cut the therapist's throat. The coroner thought the cut looked like claws. There was no evidence of any animal that ran lose through the building. Security footage showed no one breaking into the center. The only people there at the time were a couple of psychiatrists and the janitor. Staff was all accounted for.
Kiku felt along his throat.
"We were all devastated by Ono-sensei's passing," the younger therapist said.
"Do you know how he died?" Kiku asked in a hoarse whisper. The therapist looked up again.
"Hm?" he asked.
"Do you know how he died?"
"Someone broke in and slashed his throat."
"No."
"That's what the news says."
Kiku shook his head. His mind screamed at him to stop talking, shut up. He began trembling as he turned pale. The therapist narrowed his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked. Kiku slowly shook his head.
"Are you sick?" the therapist asked.
"Yes!" the older man croaked out. He watched as his therapist closed up his notes and took off his glasses.
"Why don't we take a break?" he offered. "Go to the bathroom and pull yourself together, okay?" Kiku didn't response. He could already see how this would play out. The therapist reached out to touch the older man on the arm.
"Don't!" Kiku said. The younger man drew back his hand.
"Okay," he said. "Just to the bathroom and cool down for a better. We'll resume the session when you get back, okay?" Kiku slowly rose to his feet and walked out of the room. The therapist walked as the door closed behind him. He returned to his notes.
Close to an hour later, the therapist looked at the black and white clock on the wall. He looked down at his notes and tapped his pen on the paper. This was just like his predecessor. Kiku didn't talk much doing those sessions towards the end. Did the patient have something to do with Ono-sensei's death? The younger therapist rubbed his forehead.
He turned to his door.
Is he okay?
The therapist pressed his lips together. He tried not to think of the worst. Maybe, Kiku was just taking his time in the bathroom. Still, he couldn't shake this nasty feeling in his gut. The therapist got up and walked out of his office. He looked around in the hall.
"Hello?" he asked. He spotted one of his colleagues walking by.
"Excuse me," the male therapist said. The colleague turned her head.
"Komori-sensei?" she asked. He stepped out into the hall.
"You haven't seen Honda-san out here by any chance, have you?" the therapist asked. The colleague took a minute to think.
"No, I haven't," she said.
"I see," Komori-sensei said. He headed down to the restroom.
"Everything okay?" his colleague asked. The therapist didn't answer.
Komori-sensei made it down to the bathroom. He stuck his head inside the door.
"Honda-san?" the therapist whispered. "Are you okay in here? Hello?" Komori-sensei slowly crept into the bathroom as quietly as he could. He froze when he heard talking, two people talking in fact. One was Kiku himself and the other sounded like a woman in a stall.
"I do not like him. He's starting to pry too close."
"No, please don't."
"We have no choice."
"Please!"
"I'm sorry my love."
"Stop! Stop it please!"
"My love, I do this for you. You know this, right?" The woman giggled as sobbing filled the bathroom.
"Shhh. You know how this goes. Don't try to stop it. The last time you did that, it backfired on you. Fighting me would be useless."
"Honda-san?" the therapist asked. He trailed the voices to the last stall in the men's room. He slowly knocked on the door.
"Honda-san?" he asked again. Komori-sensei pushed open the door. To his surprise, Kiku sat alone on the stall floor.
"Honda-san?" the therapist asked again. The other man slowly lifted his head.
"Are your okay?" Komori-sensei asked. "You were taking so long that I got worried about you. So, I came down to check on you." His client didn't answer. Kiku looked even more worn down than before he took that break. The bags under his eyes became heavier. He was biting on his thumb even more.
"Was there someone else in here with you just now?" the therapist asked. Kiku rose to his feet.
"Honda… -san?" Komori-sensei asked.
"I'm tired," Kiku said at last. He walked past the therapist and walked out of the bathroom.
"Honda-san?" the therapist asked. The door swung closed behind the patient.
Later in the evening, Komori-sensei looked at his notes again. Of course, he had to take down what he saw in the bathroom. He could've sworn that he heard a woman talking to Kiku before he opened the stall door. But where did she go?
Komori-sensei turned the page and frowned. Before with the last therapist, Kiku talked about seeing a schoolgirl about fifteen years old covered in black. By the description, she looked like a girl that had been murdered by her mother in Ikebukuro back in 1987. This girl also had a younger sister who was about six years old. Kiku didn't have any connection with the girls or their parents. Neither one of those girls could be the woman that was talking to the patient in the bathroom. The older girl was fifteen at the time of her death and her sister was six years old when she disappeared. That woman sounded like she was in her late twenties to early thirties.
Suddenly, the lights in his office started to flicker. Komori-sensei looked around. This office is barely used, he thought. The lights have been fine all day. The therapist froze as his eyes shifted back and forth.
"Hello?" he asked. There weren't many people on shift left in the building this evening. As far as he could see, he was the only one in the room. Komori-sensei shook his head.
"What am I doing?" he asked himself. "I should be home right now." The notes on Kiku would have to come tomorrow.
"I need a drink," Komori-sensei muttered. Once he packed up his notes into his briefcase, the therapist walked out of the office. When lights went out, Isobe Hisayo stood off in the corner, silent.