Consultation 20.
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“Haaaaaah.”
“Oh? A fellow coworker in the field? You couldn’t really be here for a consultation with me, right? You do know the demographic I cater to, don’t you?”
“I’m probably going to break down at this rate, so I figured I’d book a consultation with someone who can understand my pain.”
“You’re in the same line of business?”
“Yes… I am The Goddess of Shitty Life Counseling for Defective Washed Up Husbandos.”
My eyes lit up when I heard her title.
“Then you deal with a bunch of pretty-boy assholes?”
“Yes, it’s exactly as you’ve surmised.”
“Then, please do tell me what is troubling you.”
“Well… I think I’ve caught a case of ‘crazy psycho bitch who wants to stab every man she sees.’ I was recommended to you by a friend.”
“I see. I see. I completely understand your pain. The bitches I deal with are all bat shit crazy. If you can’t stop yourself from stabbing men, you’ve certainly come to the right palace.”
She laughed self derisively and said, “Haha. Then, God, how do I stop myself from wanting to kill every man I see?”
“How to stop? You actually want to stop? Am I hearing right? You don’t want to find out how you can push men to the brink of extinction?”
“I mean, I’d certainly like to do that, however, men are like cockroaches. Even if you kill one, another will just pop back up in their place. Even if you kick them away and tell them to go die, they just shamelessly crawl back to you just because you’re a little bit pretty.”
“Yes, that certainly is… rather accurate. A lot of men definitely do fit into that category these days.”
“Hey, God, do you mind fulfilling a selfish request of mine?”
“What is it?”
“Can you tell me how to fall in love with a man and not want to stab them?”
I was honestly stumped, this was actually outside of my specialization. My area of expertise was essentially enabling psycho chicks most dreadful desires.
“That is a rather difficult question even for me.”
“Why? Don’t you help women all the time with love related problems?”
“I do, but the requests are pretty wild. They aren’t the level headed yandere type who can think rationally.”
“Yeah, I get a lot of those types of guys as well.”
“Killing their women because they want to see their faces warped in despair.”
“Oh, I had a pretty fucked up woman who wanted to do the same, but her problem was her boyfriend was a simp who would enjoy it. Ah. Client confidentiality, I forgot. Meh, fuck it.”
‘Haha. So did I.”
“So you had someone similar? Get this the guy came back one time and bragged to me about his work of art where he skewered his woman’s body and called it a work of art.”
“Oh! I had that too. The chick I mentioned before after she killed her simp boyfriend wanted to fill up a bathtub with her new boyfriend’s blood and bathe in it in front of him.”
“Seems you’ve got it pretty bad too, huh?”
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“We both do.”
“Did you ever get anyone similar to this? This one fucking loser wanted to grow dicks from every inch of his body so he could feel endless orgasms across every inch of his skin.”
“Yeah. Tell me about it. I had some crazy broad that I told her to find a necromancer to turn her into a zombie so she could create more holes in her body to be fucked. Probably the craziest nymphomaniac ever. She even wanted to use… no, I’ll leave that part out.”
“Wait, you mean up there?”
“Yeah, let’s not talk about that though.”
“Haha. Yeah.”
...
From there on, the two of us had a lengthy chat about all the absolute nutjob clients we’d dealt with. It was pretty funny, our clients overlapped a lot in terms of levels of depravity and types of requests so we had a lot of degenerate garbage to talk about.
The longer we talked the more I realized something was off about the way she was staring at me. I knew that look all too well. I started to get a bit afraid.
“Uh. I think we should probably stop our little life counseling session here.”
“We can’t. You haven’t actually given me an answer to my question.”
“That’s honestly a bit difficult even for me.”
“Haha. We work in the same profession. Do you think I don’t know what the answers to my own questions are after we’ve talked for this long?”
“You really shouldn’t go down that road. For both our sakes, it’s really not a good idea. We should strictly maintain a business relationship.”
“You already know it’s too late. It’s your own fault that things became like this. You just had to share so many similar experiences and understand me. A woman’s heart is sometimes more simple than you’d think.”
“Can you please just forget about little old me? I just want to keep doing my counseling gig in peace.”
“You know, I’m quite sought after. Even my clients try to pull the moves on me. Though I typically just want to stab them when they try any funny business.”
“Heeeeh. Is that so? I would never have guessed.”
I couldn’t deny, she was definitely attractive. That much was certain. A total bombshell whom wars would be fought over if she so much as descended into the mortal realm. Guys would go wild if she’d bat them an eye or so much as flash them a smile. Her peculiar heterochromia eyes were rare among us gods and gave her a rather unique feel to her. Her right eye contained various shades of red swirling about. Her left eye housed just as many shades of blue intertwining full circle. Without realizing it, I lost myself while gazing into them.
By the time I snapped out of it, the two of us had locked onto each other’s eyes for several unnoticed minutes with only the table separating us.
When she came to, she averted her eyes slightly to the side onto the wall behind me.
“Sorry, that was a bit weird.”
“Weird? You mean my eyes? A lot of gods are weirded out by them, though they seem to be popular among horny humans.”
“Well, they are rare even among us gods after all.”
“Do you think they’re weird too?” She peeked at me.
“Haha. They’re actually quite beautiful. Is that the answer you want to get out of me? Sorry, they’re really weird.”
“Yeah, I thought so.” She frowned dejectedly.
“But that doesn’t mean they don’t suit you. You make them work. It’s understandable why humans would admire them.”
“If you think they’re pretty, just say that.”
“But you’d probably want to stab me if I did, right? Do you want to stab me now?”
“Ah… you’re… right? I don’t have that particular urge to stab you like I usually would when guys try to hit on me.”
“Then the answer is simple, your tendency to want to stab people comes from cringe. Pure cringe. If you want to fall in love with someone and avoid stabbing them, you just need to find a guy who doesn’t make your skin crawl in disgust.”
Her jaw dropped when the true nature behind her yandere tendency to want to stab men was finally understood.
“You… might be right. So as long as I fall in love with a guy that I’m not cringing around I won’t have that yandere urge to stab him.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“I see. Then, it looks like all my problems might be resolved.”
“Great, now my beautiful lady, please get the fuck out. I sure as hell am not going to fall into that honey trap and become that unlucky guy.”
Her hand reflexively shot up in a stabbing motion toward me the instant she heard me say ‘my beautiful lady,’ but froze in place when I said ‘please get the fuck out.’
“You’re not nice.”
“Of course not. There is the door. Please leave and never come back. I’m not interested in women who could stab me if I so much as make her cringe.”
“Hmmm. I see. Too bad for you. I’ll be back.”
Without any forewarning, she leaned forward over the desk, pulled on my tie, and planted a kiss on my lips.
When she let go she turned away and exited the room without looking back or saying another word.
I let out a dejected sigh when I thought things over. This was the worst. I just wanted to do my job, get paid, and avoid crazy bitches. I absolutely didn’t want to date or get romantically involved in one, but it seemed I’d hit a bump in the road to my ideal life. Just let me do my counseling in peace without the romance. I’m a professional. I do not get romantically involved with clients… or any chick who’s a potential ticking time bomb for fucking crazy bitch syndrome.