A/N: Ooh, the writer's block is back. A lot happened this week so I haven't been writing this much so I'm writing some of this to help boost some inspiration.
***
"So..." Dr Yokoyama smiled at the two of them. "What would you like to talk about?"
Mitsuko frowned, while Gakushuu crossed his arms and glared at him.
"Um..." She grimaced. "Do we have to talk to you?" She smiled sheepishly. "No offence, but we're only here because our mom wouldn't go to therapy unless we all went as well..."
Dr Yokoyama shrugged, writing something down in his notepad. "Well, that's alright, we can just sit in silence if you'd like." He smiled in amusement. "But your session is paid for so there is no refund if you leave early."
"Well, okay..." Mitsuko exchanged an annoyed look with her brother. "This seems like a pretty easy job then."
The therapist chuckled. "It is quite cushy, and the pay is a big benefit—most people just want someone to listen."
Mitsuko hummed as they settled into a peaceful quiet as the clock ticked by.
Dr Yokoyama seemed fine with the silence, he was a nice enough looking man with a square-like face and a few grey hairs in black hair which were slicked back. He had a horrible taste in ties though since the current one he had looked like the '80s had vomited on it with ugly browns and yellows.
She looked around the office curiously, there was a lot of stuff and books around until her eyes widened when she saw the collection of Bonsai trees near the window.
It was more extravagant than the one in her dad's office, and they were surrounded by a glass terrain like it was a fielded landscape.
"Did you make that yourself?" She stood up and walked over to it.
"Yes, it's a hobby," Dr Yokoyama replied.
Mitsuko peered into the terrain and poked the glass. "Our dad raises Bonsai trees."
"Really?" He hummed, tapping his pencil against his chin. "I think he mentioned something about it." He smiled. "Did your father show you how to raise them?"
"Uh, no..." She frowned, looking over her shoulder. "I wanted to but..." She sighed, straightening up. "Anyway, it's a cool terrain."
"Well, thank you," he replied, writing something down.
Gakushuu's eyes narrowed. "What are you writing?"
"Just personal notes." The therapist replied while still writing. "I make notes for your parents' session as well, it helps keep track."
Mitsuko wandered over. "Really?" She tried to peer over his shoulder and look at the notes but he closed the cover. "Oh, come on, can't we see?"
"I can show you your notes but not your parents," he told them both. "Everything we talk about in this room has to be private." He smiled sheepishly. "Unless you admit to murder—then I'd have to report you to the police."
Mitsuko raised an eyebrow and exchanged a glance with her brother.
"So legally you're not allowed to tell our parents anything that we say?" she asked warily.
"So long as it's not something illegal or self-harming," he replied, glancing at his bonsai tree terrain. "So your father never let you help him with the bonsai trees?"
"No," Gakushuu said stiffly, narrowing his eyes.
Mitsuko sat down next to her brother and smiled apologetically at the therapist. "Um, unless it was about education our dad wasn't a sharer..."
Dr Yokoyama hummed, rubbing his chin as he looked at his notes. "It was mentioned in your file that your mother went away for a number of months, to a rehabilitation facility?"
She looked at her brother who just scowled. "Uh, yeah, that's right."
"That must have been difficult," he said, smiling faintly.
"Yes, well it was a long time ago," Gakushuu replied stiffly.
"Yeah, we're pretty much over it," she added lightly, and then narrowed her eyes at the man when he wrote something down. "Look if you want to know how we feel about our parents, we think they're useless," she said bluntly, crossing her arms. "They're trying to make amends for the past and sort out their own issues—which is why we've been dragged along for the ride."
"Exactly," her brother said firmly. "We're the only ones in the family who are actually stable."
"Yes, you did say," the therapist remarked lightly.
"Obviously we had some issues," Mitsuko said uncomfortably. "But we worked through them together and we're fine now."
"I see." Dr Yokoyama kept nodding as he wrote more stuff down in his book. "Well I'm glad you both feel fine, but I'm curious about something." His brow furrowed. "You said your parents were useless—are you referring to their obsessive habits." He tapped his pen. "From my judgment, they seemed very..."
Mitsuko tensed along with her brother. "Very what?" She scowled when the therapist shrugged.
What had their parents been telling him?!
"They're not..." Gakushuu paused. "They weren't good parents."
"No." She grimaced. "They weren't..." Her brow furrowed. "And if they said they were good then they're lying!"
Dr Yokoyama's frown deepened. "I see..." He looked through his notes. "Your father is the Principal at your school. Correct?"
"Yes," Gakushuu replied curtly.
"He's won a lot of awards for educator of the year." The older man looked at them curiously. "He has quite the respectful reputation...I can imagine it would make it difficult to try to tell people an alternative opinion."
Gakushuu's eyes narrowed warily while Mitsuko held her brother's hand tight and smiled at him reassuringly.
"Fortunately I don't have any personal opinions on him, it would be unprofessional." Dr Yokoyama smiled faintly while they remained silent and wrote something else down in the notebook. "I'm simply here to observe and draw a conclusion based on my academic knowledge."
Mitsuko frowned, curling her hands in her skirt while glancing at Gakushuu cautiously.
There was another long pause as the two of them stared at the other man in the armchair.
The silence started to feel overbearing and there was a tightness in her chest which kept getting worse.
"...There were lessons," she spoke up hesitantly. "That he'd teach us." She looked over at her brother wondering if he'd try to object but he stayed silent. "About strength."
Dr Yokoyama looked interested, writing down something. "Interesting. What kind of lessons?"
***
"Come on," Mitsuko hissed as she and her brother leaned against the closet door trying to open it.
They were in darkness with only a crack of light providing an outline for them to see. It was a small dark space full of old paper files which made the small space dusty and there were spiders which kept sneaking up and trying to crawl down their necks.
"It won't budge," Gakushuu complained, rattling the handle while he tried to pick the lock.
"But I need the bathroom..."
She shut her eyes tight and gritted her teeth, pushing harder on the door to try to open it. It had been two hours and if she didn't get out she'd—
There was a sharp click, and then a second later the door was yanked open from the other side.
Mitsuko yelped when the closet door was opened and she and her brother fell flat on the ground in front of their father's shiny polished shoes.
She groaned and strained to lift her head to look up at their dad who was holding her Rubix cube in hand.
"I have an experiment I'll need your help answering, children," dad told them pleasantly.
Mitsuko scrambled to her feet as Gakushuu helped her stand up. "What?"
"It's 'excuse me', not 'what', Mitsuko," Dad corrected absently as he focussed on the cube. "Remember your manners."
She scowled and glared at him when he turned towards his desk. "That's my cube."
"Yes, I'm aware." Their father sat down in an armchair near one of his large bookcases.
Mitsuko looked at her brother hesitantly before holding his hand and walking over to their dad.
"I'm curious about something." Their dad smiled at them and held up the cube. "Gakushuu, solve the cube."
Her brother jerked and scrambled to catch the Rubix cube when it was tossed at him. "How long do—?"
"Sixty seconds." Dad pulled out a metal watch timer from his pocket. "Begin."
Gakushuu's eyes widened in alarm as he quickly tried to solve the cube, swivelling the sides frantically as the time ticked away loudly.
Mitsuko watched anxiously as her brother tried to solve the cube as the seconds went by. She wrung her hands. "Come on..." she mumbled under her breath as he completed one side and then the yellow side.
"Done!" Gakushuu yelled, sweating as he held up the finished cube in front of their dad anxiously. "I finished."
Dad's thumb clicked the top of the watch, staring down at him. "55 seconds." He didn't sound impressed. "Mitsuko." He took the cube and shuffled it again. "Now it's your turn."
She quickly caught it. "O-okay."
"Begin."
She swallowed and quickly ran through the formula she'd adapted from the original one Gakushuu used, remembering how many times she'd had to practice. It was one of her favourite toys and few remaining ones left since dad had decided they were too old for dolls or plastic cars; things like that were a distraction apparently.
It's just a game. She reminded herself so she wouldn't get upset or frantic, trying to imagine she was alone and just playing with the cube in her room.
Mitsuko mumbled the sequence under her breath as she solved two more sides while her brother and dad watched her.
"Done!" Her eyes lit up with relief, holding the cube up.
Dad stopped the timer. "40 seconds." He sounded pleased, making her nearly tear up when she saw the small smile on his face. "Very good, Mitsuko."
Her smile was wide and bright as her dad patted her on the head, feeling like there was a warm light shining down on her.
I was faster than Gakushuu!
But then she faltered when she saw her brother's eyes narrow from the corner of her eye.
"But there's a much quicker method than the ones you both used." Dad took the cube from her. "One that I believe requires less time to learn."
Mitsuko frowned when she saw their dad take out a screwdriver. "What method is—?"
She and her brother flinched back when their dad jammed the screwdriver into the Rubix cube and sent the small square pieces scattering across the red rug.
Mitsuko's chest tightened painfully when she saw her toy broken on the floor. "You broke it..."
"Exactly," dad said brightly, smiling down at them. "And now you'll need to put it back together—quickly now, gather all the pieces."
She looked confused but then quickly sank to her knees and gathered up the pieces in her arms.
"Now put it back together." Dad held up the timer. "Begin."
Mitsuko tensed and quickly tried to put the squares back into place, starting with the corners and then hastily did the sides until the cube was complete.
Dad stopped the timer. "35 seconds." He frowned faintly. "...Interesting."
She grimaced as he took the cube without even glancing at her. "Gakushuu, now you try."
Her brother's eyes narrowed in focus as the cube was broken again and the pieces scattered on the rug.
"Begin."
Mitsuko watched in surprise as her brother meticulously stuck each little cube back into place with accurate precision. His fingers were moving so fast she could barely see them move.
"Done." Gakushuu held up the finished cube as their dad stopped the timer.
"17 seconds." Dad looked pleased, smiling faintly. "Very good."
She hunched her shoulder up and lowered her gaze as her brother was patted on the head by their dad.
Dad took the cube from her brother. "Now, let's repeat the process to see if we can get a faster time and then we will compare the results again."
Mitsuko and her brother both frowned up at him and then winced when the cube was broken again.
Dad smiled and started the timer. "Begin."
***
"...And how many times did you break the cube?" Dr Yokoyama turned a page in his notebook to continue writing.
"Twenty-three times," Mitsuko replied, shrugging. "It broke on the 24th time because the plastic cracked."
"I see..." The therapist muttered, frowning. "And...why were you locked in the closet?"
"Oh, I got a 75% on a test and Gakushuu knocked over a vase by accident," she replied, shrugging.
Dr Yokoyama wrote something else down in his notebook. "Interesting..."
Gakushuu scowled. "He doesn't do it anymore."
"Yeah, he stopped doing that when we were thirteen and got too big," Mitsuko said quickly, giving a strained laugh. "Good thing too because that closet was pretty cramped already..."
"The point is we're perfectly safe at home!" Gakushuu said quickly, narrowing his eyes at the man. "So don't start getting any ideas."
"Ah." The therapist looked sheepish. "I'm not in the business of tearing up siblings and families."
Her brother eyed him warily. "But you have a legal obligation to report any abuse."
"Well, actually I have a standard of ethics I have to abide by," Dr Yokoyama replied. "If I believed your life was in danger, then yes, I would need to report it...but I don't believe that's the case here." He wrote something down. "Hm...how do you feel after telling me that story?"
Mitsuko frowned, shifting uncomfortably. "Um...okay, I guess." She fidgeted. "Dad's changed a lot since then so...so it doesn't matter as much, well at least not as much as it did." She shrugged. "There's no point staying angry when everyone's moved on, right?"
"We've already talked through our issues together." Her brother said firmly, holding her hand tight. "So how is talking to you meant to help us exactly?"
Dr Yokoyama hummed, tapping his pen against his chin as he stared at their clasped hands and then back at them, making her grow more uneasy. "Think of it as a...outside perspective to things."
Mitsuko frowned, remembering how Koro-sensei had said something similar. "He has a point," she said, smiling at the man. "It could be nice having someone to talk to."
Gakushuu scowled at her, looking annoyed. He looked back at the therapist and glared.
She squeezed his hand reassuringly and smiled. "It'll be okay."
Her brother's scowl stayed in place but his glare faded. "Very well..."
Mitsuko smiled, sighing in relief.
I think we made some progress!