Chapter 28

Monday came around too soon. Kankuro knew his father felt that way, and he couldn't help it, either. Because Monday was therapy day with Yuna, and he would have to help his father explain about the dissociation his father was suffering.

Kankuro just hoped his father had made the appointment in the first place. Otherwise…

Then he remembered that Yuna said they could drop in if there was an emergency, and felt better. He'd drag his father to therapy anyway. Because that was where his father needed to go.

The morning passed in a blur, leaving Kankuro toweling his hair dry in the bathroom after his shower, wondering what he was going to say to broach the subject with Yuna. He doubted his father would. His father seemed to want to hide the dissociation. Even to him, his father had minimized it as no big deal.

Kankuro frowned. But it is a big deal, and I want it taken care of. He had no idea how to take care of dissociation, but that was why they needed to go to Yuna. Mafumi-san said Yuna was a dissociation specialist.

xXx

At the appointment, Kankuro was surprised when his father spoke first.

Yondaime said hesitantly, "My son has spoken to me about the possibility that my experiences at home as a child contributed to a condition known as dissociation. Mafumi-san suggested that you would be a good expert to start with."

"Dissociation, ne?" Yuna looked thoughtful. "Do you know what dissociation is, Yondaime?"

Yondaime shook his head. "Not really…my son explained it as my mind taking me away from things, but I'm not sure I understand what he's talking about. It's true that I have sometimes forgotten things. But I am sure that everybody does that."

"It depends," Yuna said absently. She shook her head slightly and focused on him. "Can you remember the first time your father abused you?"

"I can remember being very small when it all started," Yondaime said. "It wasn't until I was seven years old that he broke my arm, but until that…I thought that I was experiencing every day child angst."

"Like what?" Yuna asked, prompting him with a small, friendly smile.

"Oh, you know," Yondaime said. "I wouldn't like to be spanked. But then, I did do something wrong, didn't I? Those sorts of things."

"How about a memory in which he made you cry?" Yuna asked. "Or when he frightened you. Can you remember that?"

Yondaime hesitated. "I…I'm not sure. Everything he did was equally frightening for a while. As I said, it wasn't until I was older that I began to have some serious fear of him."

Yuna nodded slowly. "I see…"

Kankuro didn't. This was a different story from his father than the impression he had gotten before. Especially about spanking. If it wasn't that bad, why did you never spank us as kids?

"When was the first time you felt serious fear of him?" Yuna asked.

Yondaime stared at her. "I'm sorry?"

"Your father," Yuna said.

"My father what?" Yondaime asked.

Kankuro frowned. Did he really just space out on us? "Dad…we were talking about your father."

Yondaime frowned. "I don't remember starting…" He trailed off, as if catching himself.

Yuna asked, "Do you remember that the appointment has started, Kazekage-sama?"

Yondaime furrowed his brow. "This is the start of the appointment. Yes, of course I remember that."

Yuna nodded slowly. "This is dissociation."

"What is?" Yondaime asked.

Kankuro knew his father. His father was not prone to making excuses, not prone to trying to duck out of conversations and responsibilities, and was definitely not an actor. The few times he'd tried to get his father involved in stage rehearsals – plays were a normal part of a puppet master's training – his father had been terrible. Even at kabuki, which had a different style of delivering one's lines. He was an uncertain, nervous reader with a poor sense of which way he was supposed to face for the audience.

"Let's talk about your father," Yuna suggested.

Yondaime immediately withdrew, a guarded look coming into his eyes. "I don't want to talk about my father."

Kankuro suddenly despaired of ever getting his father through a therapy appointment that had to do with his grandfather. It's too hard. He just can't do it.

"So you have deeper issues that have to do with your father," Yuna said placidly.

Kankuro noted that in spite of her calmness, his father was still nervous. "It's okay. You don't have to talk about this. We can go home."

His father didn't respond to either of them. He sank back in his chair, folding his arms over his stomach.

"Do you feel that to tell on him, you're going to get in trouble?" Yuna asked in that same calm tone.

Yondaime nodded quickly.

"Do you really not want to talk about your father?" Yuna asked gently.

Yondaime nodded again, looking at her earnestly.

Yuna smiled.

Yondaime let out his breath.

"That's okay," Yuna said. "I'm going to send you next door to the art therapy center. Okay? You can draw some pictures for me. Whatever you want. I'll hang it up in my office."

Yondaime looked surprised and relieved. Then he frowned. "How will anyone know who they're from?"

Yuna smiled again. "You'll sign them for me, of course. Art has to be signed by the artist."

"Okay!" Yondaime hopped up from his chair and crossed the room, taking Kankuro's arm and pulling him to his feet on the way.

Kankuro was confused. He couldn't quite comprehend what was going on.

His father paused at the door and looked over his shoulder at Yuna. "Can I take Kankuro?"

Yuna stood up and bowed. "Of course you can."

"Yay!" Yondaime beamed at his son. "Let's go!" He opened the door, and then paused one last time. "You said next door, right?"

"Yes," Yuna said. "The door will be labeled Art Therapy – also Rainbow Room."

Yondaime chuckled. "That's a cute name."

"Yes, it is," Yuna agreed. She crossed over to her bookshelf and ran her hand along the glossy spines of the books, absently searching for something. "Take as long as you need. I'll be here. I'm just going to be reading a book."

"Okay." Yondaime smiled at her, and then took Kankuro out into the hallway. They found the room without any difficulty. It turned out to be big, full of shelves and books, toys in a corner for toddlers, and featuring a kotatsu table near the middle of the room surrounded by tubs of art supplies and paper.

Yondaime went straight to the kotatsu table and sat down, digging out the art supplies.

Kankuro followed, curious. He sat down diagonally across from his father.

"What should I draw, Kankuro?" Yondaime asked.

"Yuna-san said whatever you want," Kankuro said.

Yondaime frowned at the light blue paper he'd dug out. Then, without any further conversation, he started a complex crayon drawing with lots of red and black.

Kankuro watched, impressed with his father's art skill. It was rough, like an oil painting would be, all impressionistic blocks of color, but a street scene appeared. A whirling dervish – a minor kind of sand storm – was in the middle of the street, and the buildings along the street were being destroyed.

Yondaime wore down the crayons quite a bit and had to peel off paper in order to finish the drawing. He slid it towards Kankuro and pulled out a white piece of paper as soon as he finished the first picture. He immediately launched into a picture with a lot of large blue flowers in the foreground – they looked like blue poppies to Kankuro, or tulips – and a tiny woman standing in back. Yondaime drew her in indigo crayon, and left her face a blank white space with two eyes. Kankuro found something creepy about that. He suppressed a shiver.

"Really good, Dad," he said softly.

Yondaime seemed not to hear him. His father was already on another sheet of paper, this one a light green. He crayoned something in shades of brown and orange, smearing in white and maroon at the end. Kankuro recognized it as the main building of the Academy. There was a man standing in front of it wrapped up in light layers of clothing, almost looking like a mummy.

Kankuro had to smile. That's the Academy uniform, alright. All the teachers wore that. Kankuro suddenly wondered if this was Basa-sensei, the man who had taught his father as a child.

Yondaime heaved a sigh and hung his head, suddenly looking exhausted. "That's all," he said softly.

Kankuro took his hand. "Okay." He squeezed his father's hand gently. "Let's go back to Yuna-san, okay?"

Yondaime nodded. Then he brushed his hand through his hair and methodically signed and dated each drawing with the sharp side of a black crayon. He stacked his three drawings and rose, taking them with him in one hand without relinquishing Kankuro's hand.

They shut the door to the art therapy center and turned off the lights. Kankuro saw his father's expression transform into apprehension. Is he afraid that Yuna-san's not going to like his pictures?

When they entered Yuna's office, she was at her desk in the far corner of the room reading something so thick Kankuro thought it had to be a textbook. She looked up and set her book down on her desk. Then she stood. "Come in."

Yuna came out from behind her desk, smiling. "How did it go?"

Yondaime bit his lip and came forward, letting go of Kankuro's hand. He held his drawings in both hands. "I…" He took a deep breath. "…made you some drawings." His voice got very quiet.

"I'd like to see them," Yuna said. "Will you show me?"

Yondaime nodded.

Yuna sat down in her dark navy chair and left them their two habitual chairs. "Let's sit down," she suggested. "You can hold them up for me."

Yondaime relaxed somewhat at that. He glanced at Kankuro with a small smile and sat down in his chair, holding his drawings in his lap.

Kankuro crossed the room, relieved at the breaking of the tension, and sat down again. He scooted his chair just a little closer, so he could reach across and hold his father's hand if he needed to.

His father held up the first picture he'd drawn. "This is a sand storm."

"It's very nice," Yuna said admiringly. "I like how you used the colors."

Yondaime blushed. "No…it's nothing."

Kankuro noticed the shyness and the politeness. It was customary to defer a compliment. His father had done so, but without the traces of guilt or shame Kankuro was used to. So he is really proud of his drawings. He's just being polite. That was a huge change from his father's attitude about his drawing and poetry last time. But Kankuro had started to get the inkling that maybe…his father's behavior was different for a reason.

"Show me the next one," Yuna suggested.

Yondaime nodded and switched out to the drawing of the flowers and the woman. "This is my mother," he said softly.

"I see…" Yuna nodded gravely. "She is all the way back there, isn't she?"

Yondaime nodded, and then ventured, "The…The flowers are bigger than her."

"Indeed," Yuna agreed.

Yondaime chewed his lip for a moment. "Because…this is because…" His gaze slid away. "Father says she is a wallflower. I think this means the flowers will eat her up."

Kankuro gave an internal start, his stomach lurching at that unexpectedly horrifying imagery. For a moment, he imagined what it would be like to be eaten by flowers: soft petals brushing your skin while you were inexorably absorbed. Man, sometimes he hated his vivid imagination. He rubbed his arms unobtrusively.

"Alright," Yuna said softly. "How about the last drawing?"

Yondaime obediently changed drawings. He fell silent.

"What is this?" Yuna asked gently.

Yondaime chewed his lip and didn't respond at first. "He's…Sensei."

Kankuro knew then his guess had been right. "Basa-sensei?" he asked.

Yondaime nodded, seeming relieved that Kankuro had supplied the name. "I'm not supposed to talk about him," he whispered. "Father doesn't like him."

"I see," Yuna said. She looked at him sadly. "But you like him, don't you?"

Yondaime glanced around reflexively and then nodded. He looked into Yuna's eyes. "I like Basa-sensei a lot."

"Why don't you think your father likes Basa-sensei?" Yuna asked.

"Father makes me black and blue a lot," Yondaime said. "Basa-sensei notices, and he gets angry. He speaks to my father about over-training." He licked the corner of his mouth in a nervous gesture and then bit his lip. "Then father cusses him out. They get into a big argument. And then Basa-sensei goes away, and Otousama yells at me for showing my bruises to Basa-sensei. I said I couldn't help it, but he doesn't care. He shouts at me for lots of things."

Kankuro was horrified and saddened to hear this story. So Basa-sensei really cared, and he couldn't do anything to make your life any easier. He wondered suddenly how much Baki's family knew about the abuse that had happened in his father's household.

"Do you want to talk about your Otousama?" Yuna asked.

"Otousama's bad," his father said, with as much firmness as Kankuro had ever seen from his father. "He's bad. A bad person."

"I agree," Yuna said.

"I don't think I should talk about him," Yondaime said. "He might come back."

"Hmm?" Yuna tilted her head.

"If you say bad things about him, he finds out, and then he comes back," Yondaime said. "People tried it. He punished them. He punishes them all the time."

"I see," Yuna said gently. "Well, I don't want you to be punished. I like you."

Yondaime beamed. A flush entered his cheeks.

Kankuro thought it was adorable, but also worrying. He's acting like a little kid right now. By now, it wasn't so much that he didn't understand the basic outline of what was going on. It was that he didn't want to.

Yuna glanced at him, seeming to understand his discomfort.

"Do you want me to hang up your pictures?" Yuna asked Yondaime, changing the subject. "I have these awesome corner clips that can hold your pictures up without putting holes in them. I like them much better than tacks."

Yondaime looked excited. "Okay." He got up and handed his pictures to her, watching with interest.

Yuna got some metal clips from her desk drawer. They were shaped at right angles. How they stuck to the wall, Kankuro didn't exactly know. Maybe a wall-clinging jutsu. They were pretty fancy clips, after all. Yuna put up all three of his father's pictures around her desk, asking his father's advice for their placement. She kept fiddling around until they were the way Yondaime liked them.

Then she stood back and admired them. "What nice pictures. Kyou-san, you are an artist."

Kankuro gave a start. Then he saw it: all the pictures were signed 'Kyou', in katakana. キョウ, and then the date. Katakana was used in the school system. Oh my god, he has to be like eight years old or something. His father had graduated at age nine.

Yondaime chuckled. "You don't have to call me that."

"How about Kyou-chan, then?" Yuna asked mischievously. "Because you're so cute."

His father laughed. "Okay."

Kankuro realized Yuna must have a way of detecting when a shift in perceptions like this occurred. Because normally, his father would never respond to the name Kyou. He'd given up his name to be Yondaime Kazekage. Normally, his father wouldn't draw pictures or let anyone see them if he had. Normally, his father didn't think he was eight years old.

Yuna gave him another sympathetic glance. She asked Yondaime, "Kyou-chan, do you like living with Kankuro?"

Yondaime nodded. "Mm-hmm. Lots. I don't come out around Gaara, though. He scares me. He's very angry with me. And Temari makes me a little sad, because she wants her father to be cool." He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not very cool, Yuna-san."

Kankuro tried to wrap his mind around that response. Does that mean he goes into this state a lot? He tried to imagine his father having perception shifts and just not telling anyone. Well…okay. That does sound like him. He hates when people worry. He frowned. But that assumes he can remember. What if he blocks it all out?

Suddenly, he had a lot of questions, and he wanted to corner Yuna for the answers.

"When do you spend the most time with Kankuro?" Yuna asked gently.

Yondaime gave them both a sweet, self-conscious smile. "When we're snuggling. He likes to snuggle a lot. I liked, to snuggle Karura too. She was nice about me." He bit his lip and glanced around the office. "Some people don't like me."

"Like who?" Yuna asked.

"C-Council members," Yondaime said. "They're mad at me. When I say things…like they thought it was a waste of time to make a park. But everyone's got parks. Where are the children going to go if there are no parks?"

Kankuro gave a start. His father had started the Park Project ten years ago, as a way to give back to the villagers and try to make the streets safer for children. Designated parks went a long way towards making sure children were protected. Gaara had played in some of those parks, before he'd lost control of Shukaku.

Yuna nodded. "You are very wise, Kyou-chan." She gave Kankuro a look as if to plead with him to be patient. Then she asked Yondaime, "What do you think is going to happen when you leave this office?"

Yondaime shrugged. "I don't know."

"What about when you leave this office building?" Yuna asked, gently encouraging. "What are you going to do next?"

Yondaime sighed. "I'll probably let Yondaime go back to work. He's going to want to go back to work and spend time filling out paperwork." He made a face. "Then I'll come back out when it's snuggle time."

Yuna smiled at him. "Okay."

Kankuro knew Yuna had asked his father that question for his benefit. It was true that his father's responses did help him put together a picture of what was happening. Unwillingly.

"Can I talk with Kankuro for a sec?" Yuna asked. "He's not in trouble."

Yondaime relaxed. "I'll wait outside, Yuna-san."

"Thank you," Yuna said gently.

Yondaime crossed the room and exited quietly, closing the door with a click.

Kankuro let out his breath and turned his attention on Yuna. "So what is going on?"

"Your father is highly dissociative on the topic of his father," Yuna said. "That means that when his father is mentioned, he will feel intrusive emotions. If pressed on the topic, he is most likely going to 'switch'. That's an inexact term, but it means that he will dissociate, and his perceptions of time and who he is will be different. As you can see."

Kankuro nodded. "What do I do…about it?"

Yuna shrugged. "Nothing. He's not a danger to himself. You see, when he feels out of danger, or when a different kind of circumstance comes up, he will switch again. Deep in the subconscious, part of him knows what he is doing. That part regulates which sides of him come out at which times. He doesn't have to consciously think about what to do. He just does it. You're looking at a case of DID – Dissociative Identity Disorder. It's not as scary as it sounds. It's all about packaging up memories into manageable pieces."

Kankuro nodded slowly and took a deep breath. "So is he okay?"

"Oh, yes," Yuna said. "He's fine. He just needs to overcome his emotional barriers and remember things consciously. Some of which it sounds like he's already done. So he's on the path to healing."

"What are you going to do about it?" Kankuro asked. "To help."

"I can trigger his self-states – that's what they're called these days – simultaneously while keeping his awareness open," Yuna said. "I couldn't do that today because I didn't know for sure. When we bring Yondaime into communication with himself, he will resolve. That is not to say that any part of who he is disappears. What you see is all of him. Just in separately regulated pieces. In other words…we've met a part of your father he doesn't otherwise remember being."

"So…" Kankuro hesitated. "Is it okay to ask which part of him I'm dealing with?"

"That may be difficult," Yuna said. "Some people don't self-identify. But it's possible. You can ask. If you stay calm, most of the time it's not going to do any harm. I'd say gauge the situation…but your father seems like an inherently sweet person. Most people are, somewhere down inside."

Kankuro nodded. "I love my father. Very much."

Yuna crossed the distance between them and squeezed Kankuro's shoulder. "I know you'll take good care of him. And don't be afraid to let him take care of you. He can do it. Having a sense of identity confusion doesn't mean that he can't be your father. Remember that he's functioned this way all along."

That was something to think about. Kankuro absorbed that and nodded. "Thank you, Yuna-san."

Yuna smiled. "No problem."

Kankuro said good-bye and picked his father up from the hallway. True to Yuna's prediction, as soon as they reached the street, his father didn't remember what had happened during the session. Only that it was 'restful'. Kankuro didn't disturb that bubble. If his father thought therapy with Yuna was restful, so much the better.

After walking his father to the office, Kankuro turned his thoughts to home. He needed a while to paint and write, and he hoped nobody wanted to disturb him. There was a lot for him to process. Like that his father had several different perceptions about his own identity.