Therapy

There was another bank robbery that resulted in another car chase on the day Ringomori and I went hiking up Maruyama; the robbers escaped. I saw about it on the news the day after, as I sat in the waiting room of my therapist's house.

The robbery made me ponder the importance of money in the world, like the allowance given to me from the orphanage for kitchen duties. Also, once I became an adult, I'd inherit court compensation money that was awarded to me for the accident.

I wondered, What in the world is out there that I could buy?

Nothing came to me, except thoughts of loneliness in my adult life that made me not look forward to it. I stopped thinking about it because I'd spiral into a rabbit hole. My session promptly began.

Dr. Shizuko had been my therapist since my first orphanage. Being closer to his house was probably the only positive of the old orphanage shutting down. I wasn't close to him like some would think, but I did like him better than most adults.

His office was typical, with textiles like rugs and woven wall hangings. I sat on a comfortable cotton sofa, he was across from me on a luxurious leather chair.

He asked his next question, "Can you tell me your thoughts on yesterday's peer outing with Yoru-san?"

I answered as mundanely as always, with tense shoulders and short pauses.
"W-Well, I guess I enjoyed it more than I thought I would."

"Can you describe to me what you saw during the trip?"

"Sure. U-Um, the park was green, and the trees were tall. I also saw the squirrels run––"

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

I narrowed my eyes and took a second to think about what he said.
"Wh-What do you mean?" I asked.

He readjusted his glasses.
"Think back through that day, but not with your visual memories. I want you to think about what you touched, perhaps ate, and even smelled on the journey. What did you emotionally feel?"

"Why?"

"Your true feelings about what you see and emotionally feel can only be completely realized when you use your senses together. Seeing isn't always everything."

Even more confused, I closed my eyes and tried to remember with my other senses alongside my sight. My head tilted left and right while doing so. I replayed every step I took and reheard every conversation I had, perhaps a familiar smile was displayed from time to time.

"Have you felt anything that's different?"

With my eyes still closed, I answered, "D-Despite the weather bein' kind of overcast, I remember feelin' a lot of sweat on my back."

I heard him writing some things down on a tablet. I never really worried about what he was thinking, but that time was different.

He asked, "Why were you sweating?"

"B-Because I felt kind of nervous."

"And why were you nervous?"
I heard a shift in his posture, probably leaning forward.

"Um, w-well, I can remember all the times I've hung out with someone outside of school, b-because it rarely happens, so bein' with Ringomori-san made me feel uneasy…"
My eyes shot open.
"A-Ah, not in a bad way! I-It was just for the beginnin' part of the day."

Dr. Shizuko was smiling at me, and I realized what I told him was a true feeling.
While writing, he asked, "Did you eat anything with her?"

"Yeah. Ri-Ringomori-san gave me an apple from a picnic basket she brought. I ate it while drawin' the city."

"What did you see with taste? Can you recall?"

"When I ate the apple, I felt like there was...a serenity around us. As far as taste, my sense of taste wasn't that great, because of the other sense that worked with it."

I couldn't remember the scent of that day – or any day – very clearly because my sense of smell was completely awful. I tried remembering the scent of anything, like trees and the park, but nothing came to me. I heard taste is tied to smell, so they were both below average for me – mostly due to the accident.

"Can you link anything from yesterday to another point in your life? A familiar sense like touch or taste? Maybe you felt something emotionally with the person you were with?"

His abstract questions left me more muted than previous sessions. I had moved past questioning his methods and just did what he asked. Looking back, there was a part of me that was hopeful in discovering some kind of link, but it ended all the same.

"I…can't."
I exhaled a disappointed sigh.

Dr. Shizuko said, "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 do better than it, and I want you to discover those things. Understood?"

"Y-Yes sir."

Our session ended after an hour together, though patients could request an extension – I never did. He stood up and walked to his desk on the farside of the room, and before leaving, I asked an atypical question.

"I-Is Ringomori-san scheduled today?"

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

"Will you be talkin' to her about the peer outin' too?"

"Indeed I will."

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

"No, I won't."
He looked at me.
"Instead, we'll be focusing on a different part of that day. Of course, due to patient confidentiality, I can't tell you. Have a good day, Chamaru-kun."

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

I had always left therapy feeling like I wasted both his and my time. If anything, the sessions further deepened my belief that being brought out of the coma was a mistake. It wasn't anyone's fault but my own. Although, that day's post-therapy sentiment was different.

While walking back to the orphanage, my mind was in a brown study about Ringomori and therapy. I thought about how she, too, had those sessions like me.

From what I could remember from the peer outing at the mountain, there were times where I truly couldn't believe she was in the same boat as me. I vaguely knew the circumstances that put her there, but I had a feeling there was something more I didn't understand.

Nevertheless, it was factual that in the world around me, we were the only two on this boat. It was still unclear whether one was steering, or if we both had oars in our hands. I felt like we had our backs to each other – at least mine to her.

I arrived at the orphanage and entered my room without greeting a single person there. For the rest of the day, I did nothing but ponder a single question that formed from the therapy session and peer outing.

Should we get along more?

I concluded that there was a better chance of me remembering my past before formulating an answer. The only way to know was to live my life.