Similarly Unique

There was another successful bank robbery during my and Ringomori's peer outing yesterday. A group of bank robbers had apparently struck a part of the city and escaped after a lengthy car chase. I heard about it on the news as I sat in the waiting room of Doctor Shizuko's house.

The robbery made me ponder the importance of money in the world, like the allowance given to me for my duties. Also, once I become an adult, I'd inherit court compensation that was awarded to me for the accident. It wasn't a lot, but hopefully enough to afford a small apartment—definitely not a house.

What's out there in the world that I'd buy?

Nothing fancy came to mind, but thoughts about a lonely adult life weren't scarce. If my depressive state continued to sink, maybe I'd waste my money on alcohol, pointless entertainment, and pleasures of all sorts that would never fulfill; I wasn't looking forward to that. I stopped thinking before I spiraled into a bottomless rabbit hole. My session began promptly.

Aside from my bedroom and school, a great portion of my new life was spent in the therapy room. I have spent more time with Doctor Shizuko than anyone else, but I wasn't close to him like one would think given our history, though I'd prefer him over most adults. Commuting on foot to his house was one of very few positives of the old orphanage shutting down.

His office was typical for a therapist, with textiles such as rugs and woven wall ornaments prominent in the room. I sat on a comfortable cotton sofa and he sat before me on a luxurious leather chair. There was a glass coffee table decorated with high-quality napery between us.

"Now that you've experienced one peer outing," he said, "do you think more will help you see the world in other colors?"

"No," I denied bluntly.

"Why are you confident in your answer?"

"The idea seems logical and something I can see workin', but not so much for me because it's mandatory. Bein' forced to do an activity seems like it'll drain my already shallow desires the more I do it, so I'm not lookin' forward to it."

"So you see zero purpose in them? Zero expectations to change?"

I nodded.

"Very well, let's see if that holds true then." He asked, "Can you tell me about your thoughts on yesterday's peer outing with Yoru-kun?"

I gave him a simple answer with the usual combo of tensed shoulders and bouncing feet.
"Well, I was nervous and on edge all day, and continuously wished for it to be over."

As he was taking notes he said, "Right. Mmm, let's see, can you describe what you saw during your outing?"

"Sure. U-Um, the park was green and the trees were quite tall. They had a zoo, there were a lot more people than I thought there would be. I also saw squirrels run—"

"Stop, stop," he interrupted. "Let me reiterate. I want you to tell me what you saw, not with sight, but with your other senses."

I narrowed my eyes like a camera lens trying to refocus on his words.
"What do you mean?"

"Remember what I told you in our previous session?" he asked, readjusting his glasses. "Think back to yesterday, but not with your visual memories. I want you to think about what you touched, perhaps ate, and possibly smelled throughout your journey. What did you emotionally see?"

"W-Will that make a difference?"

"Try it and find out. Your true feelings about what you see and emotionally feel can only be completely realized when you use your senses together."
He clasped his hands together.
"Seeing isn't always everything, it requires cooperation. Remember the blind."

My confusion only grew, but I heeded to his instructions and closed my eyes to try remembering with my other senses. My head teetered left and right as I replayed every step I took and repeated every conversation I heard. Maybe a faint upturn was displayed from time to time.

"Do you see anything different?"

With my eyes still closed I answered, "Despite the weather bein' typically overcast and I wasn't wearin' heavy clothes, I remember still feelin' a lot of sweat runnin' down my back."

I heard him noting some things down on his tablet. I never worried about what he was thinking, but this time was different; there was some pressure.

He asked, "And you were sweating because you were nervous?"

"Y-Yes, naturally."

"Why was it natural for you to sweat?"
I heard a shift in his posture, probably leaning forward with curiosity.

"Um, well, I've so rarely gone out with people outside of school, so bein' with her made me uneasy, I guess. I-It's not her fault, it's just unfamiliar. I made myself believe she wasn't enjoyin' her time with me."

"Did you clarify that to her?"

"Sort of. She made it clear that she enjoyed the whole thing."

"How did you feel when she told you that?"

I took a second to think, opening my eyes to find myself staring at the ceiling. I remembered being asked a similar question by her at the pie shop. Words and their synonyms were floating above me, and I had to find the right one to say.
"Relieved?"

"Understood. For the most part, you've been confident in your answers today."
The gravity of his words brought my eyes to his face. He was smiling at me, and I realized what I told him was a true feeling. An emotional sight. My tension was alleviated.

He asked, "What did you eat during the outing?"

"She brought apples and ate a few to the core, she also cut a few up into little slices and proffered them to me. I ate them while drawin' the city. Other than that, we actually didn't eat lunch, though our stomachs weren't itchin' for a meal."

"Tell me, what did you see with taste? Can you recall?"

Every time I blinked I was brought back to the aperture in the summit. My tongue firmly pressed my taste buds against the top of my mouth as I swallowed my own saliva to try and recall any sensation felt while eating.

"When I ate the apples...I… It's like we were in two boats—like small ones, just the two of us flowin' down a river. I felt like there was a serenity around us, but I don't know why. And as far as actual taste, y'know my taste is useless."

I couldn't remember any scent from yesterday very clearly because of my broken sense of smell. I tried to revision aromatic objects like trees and flowers, but they were odorless. With taste tied to smell, those two senses were subpar. All because of that accident.

"Yeah, Shizuko-sensei, I have nothing for smell."

"Very well, at least you tried," he said. "Can you link anything from yesterday to another point in your life? A familiar touch or sound? Taste? Maybe you felt something emotionally with the person with you."

His abstract questions always left me muted and mentally discombobulated. I knew questioning his methods would only encourage more of his ideological explanations, so I just did what he asked of me. There was a part of me hopeful in discovering some kind of link, but it ended all the same.

"I can't, Shizuko-sensei."
I exhaled a disappointed sigh.

"As you continue living your life, Chamaru-kun, I want you to try and focus more on pairing your smell with other senses. Vision is great, it's amazing, but there are things that smell can see better than it, and I want you to discover them. Train your smell, understand?"

"Y-Yes sir."

"I must say, Chamaru-kun, for someone who doesn't like to be forced to spend time with others, sounds like you did have your fair share of fun."

I flinched my head back, as if his words had taken the form of scary monsters darting at my face. Although, once I got a closer look at those monsters' faces, they started to illuminate from the edges towards the center. They must have radiated heat because I felt my cheeks become hot.
"Well, I guess I enjoyed it more than I thought I would."

"Hmm? Was it because you went to a new place for the first time in this life?"

"No, but Ringomori-san bein' there probably made things easier. I-I guess she understands me a bit compared to most, b-but I'm not sure I can rely on joinin' her for every single outing. I doubt I can ask her to join me."

"Can you ask anyone else?"

I hesitated, staring into my therapist's sapphire eyes for longer than every previous attempt combined.
"I-I don't think so...but I don't know why."

Our sessions were an hour long, including this one. Patients could request an extension, but I never did; didn't now. He stood up after me and walked to his desk on the far side of the room. Before leaving, I asked an atypical question.

"Is Ri-Ringomori-san scheduled for today?"

He sat down in his office chair and said, "Indeed she is. She'll be my last appointment for today."

"Will you be talkin' to her about yesterday too?"

"I will."

I could have stopped there, but I wanted to push myself to ask one more question.
"Will you be goin' through the same process with her, with all the senses stuff?"

"No, I won't."
He looked at me.
"That's specific to you, because of your circumstances. While you two are my only patients that are orphans, there are differences between you and her. She deals with parts of her day you may or may not understand. Of course, due to patient confidentiality, I can't tell you. Have a good day, Chamaru-kun."

"R-Right, sorry. See you next time, Shizuko-sensei."

I had always left therapy feeling like I wasted both his time and mine. If anything, therapy further deepened my belief that being brought out of my coma was a mistake. It was no one's fault but my own.

However, in lieu of feeling emotional atrophy, today's post-therapy sentiment was a bit different. While walking back to the orphanage, my mind was in a brown study about my outing companion and therapy.

What part of yesterday will they be goin' over?
I thought about it while gazing at the clouds above.

Like Doctor Shizuko said, we were different, and for the most part, it was true. However—like she said—we had some similarities too. From what she told me about herself yesterday, I vaguely understood the circumstances that allowed her in this river with me. But there was something more I didn't understand, and maybe figuring it out could lead me to know why she approaches me so. After all, in the world around me, she was the most similar to me.

I arrived at the orphanage and entered my room without greeting anyone. Ringomori and I hadn't spoken since last night's messages. For the rest of the day, I did nothing but lay in bed and ponder a thought that led to a singular question.

In my monochromatic hell, where colorless volcanoes formed dull lava rivers, I found myself and her inside one small boat. It was a canoe, because there was no room for anyone else but us. The way we sat was back-to-back—at least mine to hers. It was unclear whether one of us was steering, or if we both had oars in our hands rowing at our own paces. Because of the outing, because of the therapy session, I asked myself one thing.

Should we get along more?

After wasting hours on thinking, I concluded that it was easier to remember my past than formulate an answer. The only way I could know was to live my life and see with all of my senses if any opportunities presented themselves to me.

A week had gone by since my therapy session. I was too socially exhausted to do anything involving being with others, so I spent that time finishing my sheaf of summer homework. I put down my pencil after signing off on the last page and leaned back in my chair to stretch. My fatigued back cracked multiple times as I completed the arch.

"Done, finally. I think all this work deserves a reward. I think a slice of pie will do, it's better than stayin' locked in my room again. CLARIS should still be open."

I left the orphanage as the sun began to tuck away behind the buildings. The pie shop appeared busier than usual when I arrived—the individual seats were all occupied, and the line nearly extended out the door.

I took a headcount of the line and contemplated coming back on a different day, then looked at the time on my phone.
No, I don't have anything else to do. I'll wait and if there's still no open seats, I'll order to go.

With earphones playing music, I waited for almost twenty minutes. Once it was my turn, I only managed an "Um" when the male cashier handed me a receipt. A slice of key lime and matcha latte; correct sizes too. I paid for the order without question, only wondering if this was a sign to switch up my taste. I did make one correction.

"C-Can I get it to go?"

"Sure thing, boss."

As I was leaving the line, he unexpectedly grabbed my attention.

"Oh, by the way, the girl you usually sit with is at that table over there."
He looked over the counter and my puzzled eyes were led to the back of a girl's head.

It was Ringomori. She sat by herself at a two-person table.

I turned back to the cashier.
"Th-Thanks, for uh, l-lettin' me know."

"Do you still want that order t'go?" he asked.

He seemed around my age, probably older—like a university student. Since this place was a family business, he may also be related to the owners. A smirk appeared on his face, which suggested that he had an inaccurate suspicion of my relationship with the girl. But he was right in that I recanted my original order.

After waiting a few minutes, my order was handed to me on a tray. I decided to eat in, but all the individual tables were still occupied. I found myself flipping the script and breaking my creed, becoming the one to approach.

"U-Um, can I sit here?" I asked.

She was taken aback, naturally, as she wasn't expecting anyone. After visually confirming my identity, she took a second before nodding her approval.

"P-Pardon my impromptu intrusion," I requested, placing my tray on the table and sitting down. "I'm not disruptin' anything am I?"

Her eyes shifted to her phone on the tabletop.
"No...it is okay, Vieira-san. I was only watching a video."

Her plate had already been cleaned and the trash ready to be discarded, all that was left was her latte dregs. I figured she'd leave once she finished and didn't feel a need to rush and finish at the same time.

Familiar silence fell upon us, with my excuse being that I was eating my pie without pause. I took out my phone and started to listen to the story of the game's latest event. At some point, she had taken out a notebook and begun writing notes with her left hand; her right holding the phone.

She usually reads. What's she watchin'?

A part of me wanted to ask, but it was only a minor desire. The shop would close within the next hour, as the moon's twilight was rising over the city. Only a few more bites of my pie remained when I finished the last chapter of the event's story. I figured we would leave soon, concluding today's interaction in the silent stage.

That was until she asked me, "Are… Are you okay?"

My eyes strained, causing pain that forced me to close them.
"Ow, wh-what was I doin'?"
I rubbed them with my sleeves.

"It seemed like...you were fixated on my notebook. Are you...mayhaps...curious about it?"

"W-Was I starin'? I'm sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

"No need to worry."
She turned her phone around.
"I have been watching tutorials on how to edit videos. I want to be more creative and add my own unique pizzazz to them."

"S-Sounds like you're keepin' yourself busy recently."
I flicked between her phone and notebook, awestruck by the effort she poured into her meticulous research. The minor desire in me gained satisfaction.

"Well…" she said, "I have been wanting to do this for a while, and now seemed like the right time. I thought about it after my appointment with Shizuko-sensei last week. He says two of the best ways to treat depression are psychological therapy and changes in lifestyle."

"R-Really? Then I'm bettin' all my hopes on therapy, because changin' my lifestyle is too much effort."

"Do you not want to treat your depressive state?"

"Not really."

I shrank back in my seat at her innocuous but sudden question. I wasn't a person who liked to talk about the domineering sadness in my life, which was why therapy progressed slowly. I would have done the same with the girl in front of me, but maybe because it was her and not anyone else that I wasn't entirely against the idea. She related more than most, so I saw no harm in telling her—maybe this was one of those opportunities.

I continued, "I know I have all the resources to help and there's no reason for me not to take them, but what's the point? I'm goin' to grow up to join the workforce and be nothing more than a pawn in some business's game. I'll be hopin' to find a woman out there who randomly catches my eye either at work or out in the streets. I incessantly think of things like that, and it makes me dread my future, so why bother givin' myself false hope by helpin' my depression now, y'know? I'm quite incorrigible."

She placed her elbow on the table, propping up her chin. Our eyes connected.
"I understand that feeling. It loiters around the back of your mind and causes many sleepless nights, correct?"

"Exactly. Durin' my time of deep unconsciousness, I felt nothing, and with all I've felt now, that nothingness was peace. Sometimes I think wakin' up was a mistake. I'd like to go back."

"Wow, quite morbid. Any normal person who heard that might think you wanted to commit suicide. Luckily, I know you do not have a desire to die, you just have not found a desire to live," she said with a placidly knowing smile.

"Y-Yeah, guess I'm thankful you said you understand. It's better than offerin' shallow apologies."
Once again, I looked at her notebook penciled with video editing techniques, then back at her.
"Just out of curiosity, can I ask why you're t-tryin' so hard to better yourself? N-Not that you're dumb for doin' so, I-I'm just...yeah."

Our eye contact faded so she could finish the remaining drops of her drink. I was beginning to worry that my question was too sensitive for a casual conversation. However, that regret was ephemeral as she reconnected with me.

"I was diagnosed when I entered the orphanage program, but I believe my transition into this depressive life began when my father passed away when I was eight."

"So, you've been like this for half your life? I can imagine it was tough to deal with that kind of negative development."

"It wasn't all bad at the start," she said, "mainly because I still had my mother. There was also the 'apple of my eye' who kept me from going blind with despair. It was only when that apple soon rotted away, followed by my mother's passing, that I began to lose sight of what purpose my life had."

"Knowin' how people around you died isn't something I know, but I can still tell they had taken up more than half your heart."

"I used to ask my doctor why I was the healthiest one, but of course she couldn't answer me. That's why a part of me wished to join my parents."

"That's a bit morbid. You should see a therapist; I know a guy."

One of the corners of her lips rose to my rejoinder.
"Back to your question, mayhaps the reason I want to better myself is because I'm trying to find the apple of my eye again—even a little seed of it—and regrow it in my care. Though it's proven to be more difficult than expected."

"How so?" I asked, sincerity prominent in my voice.

"The older I get, and the more chances fade before me, the more I wonder: If I did regrow it, would it be the same one that protected my sight all those years ago?"

I hadn't a response for her, except for a listless "I see."

She interlocked her fingers and stretched her arms by leaning back in the chair. It was only then that I registered how deeply rooted I was in the conversation, being transported back to the reality of the pie shop.

"Sorry for makin' you bring up a memory like that."

She shook her head.
"Don't worry about it. Something like this has only been told to Shizuko-sensei, and while he's an exceptional therapist, it feels more...beneficial to tell you because you can understand firsthand what I'm feeling. Oh...but if you don't want to hear about it...since it's quite depressing..."

"It's okay, I don't mind hearin' you out. Knowin' what you're talkin' about clarifies my own thoughts too. There're few others who can do that."

"Very true."
She took a pause, prompting me to raise my eyes.
"Could it be that wanting to understand me is the reason you asked to sit with me today?"

My head slightly flinched back; a florid warmth was likely plain on my cheeks.
"I-I can't really explain it. Wh-What was your reason for askin' to sit with me back when it was my first time eatin' here?"

"My answer could be your answer too."
She took a good look around the pie shop and I followed. People entered and left as they lived their lives the way they wanted and chose. I was confused about what I was supposed to be looking at, whilst she was in a reverie.

Once she fathered her thoughts, she said, "Each and every person here has their own unique life, which may make them interesting in their own way. That's usually why people love being social, to explore others' uniqueness. However, amongst everyone here, there's only two people that—while still having unique differences—share quite a similar life now; they also happen to know each other. For me, I feel like being alike in these esoteric situations is better than being unique, because when we share our experiences, only we will completely understand. We're similar to each other, but different to everyone else. In a strange way, it feels special."

"That's a nice way to think about it," I said, realizing her mettle. "Meanwhile I'm here, just thinkin' random chance put me with these people."

"Well, while our paths crossing like this was fortuitous, it was still our choice to seize the opportunity of putting in effort and continue growing our relationship. Remember, you chose to ask me to sit here, Vieira-san."

That was when I knew.

In the canoe rowing back-to-back in my monochromatic hell, I thought we only understood a small part of each other, but like how she became accustomed to our stages quicker, she also became the first to see a connection between us. We were indeed rowing at different paces, but only because I was going slower. If the way she thought about our relationship accentuated her perspective, then that meant she was facing me. Surely my turn was coming.

Born from our conversation at the pie shop, a belief that our similarly unique circumstances brought us together resided in my mind. I didn't want to jump to conclusions, but I figured I'd need to find out more about her life before the orphanage to confirm. But, just for today, I was satisfied with what she told me, or what I told her.

In conclusion, what we told us.