The Moody One (Osomatsu-San Fanfic)

Chapter 14

(Ichimatsu POV)

They were kind enough to escort me to my room. Okay, not "kind enough", more like "a required precaution". The staff took away my shoelaces, belts, a spiral notebook, lighters, nail clippers, and anything else I could "hurt" myself with. Another "required precaution", by the way.

While being guided through the facility, I took in my shitty surroundings. The squeaky clean tile floor reflected the annoyingly bright fluorescent light above. Cracked, yet disinfected walls everywhere. All the doors looked the same, except for the ones leading to the kitchen and staff offices. And just in general there was a distinct smell of... sterilization? Like how a normal hospital smells but ten times more intense. Or perhaps it only felt more intense to me.

Suddenly, the 3 security guards leading me stopped in their tracks.

"This is your room." One muttered. Room number 367, I observed. I'll definitely forget that.

I nodded, "Okay, so where's the bathroom? I need to take a dump." I actually didn't have to, I only wanted a chance to be alone. Feeling eyes constantly on me is not a pleasant feeling. Instead of answering, they all walked on. What assholes, ignoring me.

"Fine then, I'll just shit on the floor!" I yelled after them, already having pulled my pants down and squatting, my usual shitting-in-public position. They stopped a few doors ahead of mine. The same one spoke, "This is the restroom. If we hear any funny business we'll be forced to step in." Oh. They were escorting me there too. I should've guessed that. Awkwardly, I pulled up my pants and shuffled towards the bathroom. Once inside, I could still feel them watching, listening. I'm sick of this place already.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

"Hello Ichimatsu, I'm your crisis counselor. Please, take a seat."

"Totoko-chan?"

"That's Yowai-san to you!"

After getting settled into my new room, I was escorted (how surprising!) to my first counseling session. "I don't have to talk infront of a bunch of strangers, do I?" I had asked a security guard on the way. He explained that group sessions were only once a week, and this was a personal one- which is daily. Meaning it'd just be me and some asshole therapist. Great. Or at least that's what I thought until I saw my (and my brothers') life-long crush sitting in a desk in front of me.

"Wha- how did you, when-" I stuttered. Stupid, Stupid, Stupid, I thought to myself. I felt my face turning red already.

"I saw a help wanted ad online and applied for the job. When I left to study abroad I took a few psychology classes so I was qualified." A few classes? That left a bad feeling in my stomach. "Being an idol or just marrying rich didn't work out, so being a career woman is just my next way to go." Totoko chuckled, flipping her hair.

"So Cute!- wait, isn't it like, illegal to personally know your patients or something?"

"I dunno, haha. Besides, since when do you NEETs care about breaking the law?"

True. I wanted to say more but got tongue tied. I ended up nodding and slightly drooling instead. How does she get her lips so glossy looking? And such beautiful eyes!

"Uh, anyways," Totoko continued, "Today will be very simple-" She handed me a piece of paper, "- just take this quick assessment and then you'll be sent back to your room. If you have any questions just ask me. Try to answer to the best of your ability!"

"Okay.."

The quiz's directions were pretty straight forward. There'd be a statement and I would have to choose how much it applied to me.

Question #1: I find it sometimes difficult to do regular necessities such as getting out of bed, eating, showering, etc.

5: Strongly Disagree
4: Disagree
3: Neutral
2: Agree
1: Strongly Agree

Oh. I circled choice 2 after a moment of thought.

Question #2: I often have insecure or self depreciating thoughts.

5: Strongly Disagree
4: Disagree
3: Neutral
2: Agree
1: Strongly Agree

I quickly circled 1, not wanting to dwell on that.

Question #3: I have thought about self-harm and/or suicide.

5: Strongly Disagree
4: Disagree
3: Neutral
2: Agree
1: Strongly Agree

Shit.

Question #4: I have done self-harm and/or attempted suicide.

5: Strongly Disagree
4: Disagree
3: Neutral
2: Agree
1: Strongly Agree

Shit.

Question #5: I feel paranoid about others not liking me/plotting to hurt me.

5: Strongly Disagree
4: Disagree
3: Neutral
2: Agree
1: Strongly Agree

Uh...

Question #6: I often feel hopeless and alone, even when around loved ones.

5: Strongly Disagree
4: Disagree
3: Neutral
2: Agree
1: Strongly Agree

There were at least 15 more questions on the stupid ass test. It felt so invasive. A fucking piece of paper was judging me. And soon, everyone in this damn facility would too. A knot built up in my chest. I wanted to crumble up that quiz, throw it in a guards face, and walk out of there forever-

"Ichimatsu? Are you having trouble answering some questions? You haven't filled in any answers for a while now."

Having forgot Totoko was even there, I snapped back into reality. "Oh, uh, I um.." How do you tell someone 'this quiz proves how much of a fuck up I am and I hate it'?

"Oh jeez, is this an anxiety attack? I didn't think I'd have to deal with one my first week on the job." First week? "Okay uh-" She flipped through a file cabinet, "-where is that damn instruction manual, umm-"

"C-can I just finish taking the test tomorrow?" Miraculously, I found the ability to say something.

"Huh?"

"I said can I finish tomorrow-"

"Oh sure! No problem! I'll tell security that we're done for today!"

"And Totok- I mean, Yowai-san?"

"Hmm?"

"I think the manual you're looking for is on your desk. Like right infront of you."

"Oh! So it is! I knew that."

She's so cute!

Too bad cuteness can't change that quiz.

~^~^~^~^~^~^~

I don't remember what the mush they served me for dinner was called. I don't remember being told what the expectations and rules for this place is. I don't remember the guard saying lights out then locking me in my own room. I don't remember how long I've been lying awake. My room is so cold. Empty. You'd think after sharing a bedroom with five other people for your entire life you'd be glad to be alone. Too bad. The sheets are thin and crinkled, like paper. The matress creaky. This is nothing like home. Well, obviously it wouldn't be. Why am I surprised? Why am I still up, staring at a locked door and surveillance cameras? Why is my face stained with tears now? Why can't I go home? I want to go home.

I want to be home.