What To Do When A Child Psychoanalyzes You

I was busy setting up my desk in the infirmary. For starters, I decided to hang up my university diploma on the wall next to me. It was on proud display, for everyone to see that I was indeed their qualified and professional nurse.

It was an important distinction to have for someone of my position. I mean, all the kids needed to feel safe and what better than their trusted adult who always knows what she’s doing? Nothing, nothing was better than this after all.

That’s why I spent like twenty minutes readjusting the position of the diploma to make sure it wasn’t crooked at all. Do I have a problem? No. No I don’t. I just value the importance of my position.

“Takeuchi?”

“A-Ah! Inukai! Hey, what’s up?”

I immediately turned to her in a way that wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of professionalism, but it was fine since it was just the two of us.

“I brought Misa over, if you don’t mind,” Inukai said, glancing over at the little girl who was staring at me with a suspicious expression. Wait, it wasn’t just the two of us, damn it!

“What’s she here for?” I asked.

“She was being rowdy in class during homeroom, so I brought her here so she can work on her homework by herself.”

“Ah, that’s okay then. I can help with that!”

“Thanks, you’re a big help,” Inukai bowed, and I gave her a thumbs up in response. It was no problem at all for me, at least. She had to get back to teaching her class, so Inukai was off shortly after that.

That left just Misa and I, with the girl’s same old suspicious glares that I recognized. I wonder if she ever has any other looks besides that, it was a little bit uncomfortable. Regardless, I was the adult here so I would have to take charge.

“I have a desk for you to sit at if you want to do your work,” I said with my usual smile, before pointing towards a small desk nearby.

“Yeah, okay.”

Misa walked over to the desk and took a seat, before taking out a sheet of paper and a pencil. She started to do some math problems, obviously very basic ones, but she was young so she needed to learn them.

I walked over to her and decided to take a seat next to her. I mean, I really didn’t have anything else to do at the moment since I already completed my lesson plans. She seemed to be doing the problems well, at the very least, that was a good sign.

“Why are you looking over my shoulder?” Misa asked.

“Just making sure on whether you need help or not,” I said back, trying to be as comforting as I can be.

“Well, I’m already right so I don’t need your help.”

That was a bit cold, and it hurt a little bit. Misa still hasn’t really warmed up to me in the very least. How unfortunate. My life was one of distance, it seemed. Everyone wanted to stand a few meters away from me despite how hard I tried.

I should stop being dramatic.

Regardless, I should probably do something to address the core problem at hand here, with her being in this room at all.

“What happened back in the classroom?”

“Some kids kept bugging me for answers, and for stuff, and for help. All of that annoying stuff, so I told them that if they can’t help themselves then they’re useless. And you know, I’m not like… wrong.”

I blinked. That was once again very harsh, and not exactly the sign of good behaviour. How was I taught to deal with situations like this? I took a moment to contemplate, in which Misa kept on talking.

“And I didn’t hurt them! Like you said, I didn’t start a fight over it. No shoves or anything were done, I just told them what it is and that’s that!”

Ah, something I can latch onto. Good.

“Well, it’s good that you didn’t start a fight with your hands, but starting a fight with your words is still something that’s bad. You can think a lot about other people, but sometimes when you say it, it’s just as bad as attacking someone.” I explained to her.

“That doesn’t make sense, they’re not getting hurt,” she retorted back.

“Just because they don’t have cuts and bruises, doesn’t mean that they aren’t hurt. There are many different ways people can get hurt. What you did might have hurt them here,” I put my hand on my chest. “The heart. And that once again can backfire on you.”

“But am I supposed to lie about what they are? I mean, it’s not like my mom is bothered when I say stuff like that.”

“I don’t think you should say that to your mom either.”

I wondered what kind of mom this kid has, if she was so willing to speak up like that towards her. It can’t be good for her.

“I’m not saying it’s bad to have these thoughts about people, but sometimes you have to put it in a more gentle way. That way, problems won’t start. The way you present it can make things a lot easier, and it won’t hurt anybody.”

“Hm,” Misa thought for a second. “So instead of saying that I think you’re doing a bad job of being an adult, I can say that it needs improvement?”

Wait a minute. What the hell?! Where did that come from?

“Uhm. I guess my way would just be saying that you’re, uh, busy… but… um. How did you come to that conclusion?”

“You were talking quietly to yourself when I first came in here, and that piece of paper on the wall looks very weird. It reminds me of something that adults do when they wanna look better than they actually are.”

“...”

I’m being dissected by an 8 year old! What is going on here? How does she even know this kind of insight?

“You’re also really pushy for an adult, and I’ve learned that’s when they think they’ve done something wrong, and are trying to make up for it. Or at the very least, something makes you feel… I dunno the word for it, inseh… insecure…”

She doesn’t even know the words she’s dissecting me with! This might be the most humiliating thing I’ve ever experienced in my life!

“A-Anyways!” I tried to change the subject. “You’re very observant, but those observations could just be put in a more helpful way. Maybe instead of being bugged, you can be more like a guide…?”

As I suggested that, the bell rang. Misa seemed to have finished most of her problems, so it was probably a good idea to let her go. Both for her own sake and for my sanity. But, obviously there was still more to teach her.

“How about next time you come back here and we can talk a little bit more about it? Using your words in the correct way. I think that could be a fun lesson.”

“I guess…”

It seemed like Misa wasn’t opposed to the idea, and that was good. Hopefully I could make some progress on guiding her. With that agreement settled, I sent her off back to class.

I could use another drink though, I don’t need that psychoanalysis lingering in my memory.