Lain

After a short walk up the to the third floor of the base’s research institute, I find myself waiting in a little lobby while looking outside though one of the large windows that adorn the upper floors. We had more snow fall the previous night, so now everything outside is covered in a fresh layer of white. With a view of the park, I watch as people continue to go about their business, trying to accomplish whatever they can while the cold winter weather is still bearable. I just give the snow a nasty look and decide to take comfort in the fact that I am inside and safe from the vile frozen precipitations.

From beside me, a door opens, and I can hear as someone walk over to me. They stand next to me and look out the window with me. An older woman’s voice speaks after a short while, a hint of an Asian accent to her voice. “Don’t care much for the snow, do you darling?”

“Nope…”

“Care if I ask why?”

“Because it sucks. I crashed my first car during my first winter of driving… I worked hard to get that car and even with insurance, I wouldn’t have been able to get anything other than a junker until after graduation. I never got to graduate because the world ended… And then winter came again, and my family and I spent the entire time scared for our lives, worried that we would all die at any point. Do we have enough firewood, do we have enough food, what if one of us catches a fever? No matter how much wood we burned or how many layers we wore, it was always cold. Even on the good days, we couldn’t leave the house without shoveling through several feet of snow and ice. I almost got frost bite while I was out with my dad shoveling snow off our roof. We had to climb up there and clear it because our house was creaking from the sheer weight of it all, and we had to get it off before the whole building would collapse and bury us in the basement… So, no. I don’t care much for the snow. I don’t even want to think of how many people died from the last winter…” I tell her apathetically.

She takes a few moments, and I can hear as her clothes shuffle, probably nodding her head. “Mhm, can’t honestly say that I care for it much either now. Used to love it when I was younger. Go outside and make a snowman. Maybe throw some snowballs at the cute neighbor boy. Of course, everything is much nicer when you are a child. Easier to ignore the cold. Nowadays my bones can’t take it as well as they used to. The cold cuts right through me, hmhmhm.” She giggles lightly.

A few moments of silence pass and I finally turn to look at the woman standing next to me. She stands straight and tall, a head of greying black hair and a slowly aging face adorned with small creases and wrinkles that tell whispers of the life she has lived. Probably somewhere in her late fifties but still holding onto to a past beauty that refuses to fade with age. She is dressed professionally and has a warm looking yellow cardigan draped over her shoulders.

She gives me a smile and says, “You must be Lain. It’s a pleasure to finally get to meet you. I have heard a lot about you from my colleagues.”

“Dr. Rachel Kim, yes?” I ask.

She gives a short laugh and says, “Yes, that’s me. Feel free to call me Rachel if it makes you feel more comfortable. Is it alright if I call you Lain? Your file says that it is your preferred name.”

“Uh, yes. Just Lain is fine, thank you. Uhm, if it is alright with you, I will just stick to calling you Dr. Kim. Feels wrong to not call a doctor, Dr…”

She just giggles and says, “That’s quite alright. I understand. Now, where are my manners? Please come into my office and take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.”

I follow behind her as she leads me into her office. The space itself is nice but simple. A comfy couch and a chair fill the center of the room with a coffee table next to the window, while a clean desk sits off to the side. The walls have framed pictures, awards, and certificates. Colorful pillows and blankets resting on the furniture help to brighten up the room along with a couple of plants along the window. A neatly cut and cared for bonsai tree sits as a center piece on the coffee table. Its bark is aged, and it gives off the presence of an ancient thing. It has clearly experienced several generations of owners lovingly caring for it.

“Please feel free to have a seat on the couch. Make yourself as comfortable as you like. Would you care for some coffee or tea? I also have juice if you prefer.”

I sit down at the couch, my eyes on the bonsai as she works at a counter off to the side.

“Oh, uh, coffee please. Black is fine.”

She hums back a response and works on filling two mugs for us while I look over the little tree. Admiring the shape of its carefully trimmed foliage, taking in the curve of its body, and looking over the decorative rocks and moss that adorns its base in a tastefully undistracting manner.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

Dr. Kim sets down a mug on a coaster in front of me and takes a seat across from me, a comfortable breath escaping her as she sinks into her chair.

She sits in silence for a short while and then asks, “Do you like Bonsai?”

“Yes, I always thought that they were very nice. Especially when you look into just how much work goes into shaping one. Yours is very beautiful.”

She gives me a warm smile and takes a sip from her coffee. “Thank you, it was my grandfathers. He brought it with him to America when he immigrated from Japan. He passed it on to my father when he died, and I inherited it from my father when he passed. This tree has been in my family for many years now. Have you ever tried caring for one?”

“Ahh…” I scratch at the back of my head. “Once. I bought one at one of those big hardware stores; they sometimes sell them in their gardening section. One of those ones that are already shaped for you. I followed all the instructions and tried to take care of it, but it didn’t do so well. I didn’t want to kill it, so I took and planted it outside near the woods… It lived and last time I saw it, it had grown to be about twenty feet tall or so… You know, because of the whatever it is that is going on and making all the plant life grow like crazy. I had thought about trying to make one of my own, start from scratch. But life kept getting in the way and I never got around to it. Then the apocalypse happened…” I say with a shrug.

She just gently laughs and sips at her coffee. “Ah, a story I have heard before. Luckily in yours, the tree lived. I can certainly attest to the fact that caring for bonsai is not always an easy task. Even this one, for as long as it has lived, has its moments where I fear I might lose its life. A delicate and finicky thing, hmhmhm.” She gives the tree a smile.

“Actually, about that. How do you keep it so small? Shouldn’t it be growing out of control like all of the other plant life?”

“Daily trimmings. Small cuts here and there to help keep it under control and remaining beautiful and healthy. Left to its own accord, it would most certainly grow out of control, bursting from its pot and taking over my office. But that is how life is. Daily maintenance for the sake of maintaining control and balance in one’s life, else there is only chaos.”

I take a sip from my coffee and observe her. My eyes eventually drift to the window and settle on the pond in the park. The geese living there are still stubbornly refuse to fly south…

“Soooo… How do we do this? I’ve never been to therapy before. This is all new to me…”

“Hmm, well. Technically we have already started, no? Most of what therapy is, is the two of us getting to know each other better. For me to better understand you as my patient and for you to better understand me as a provider of care. A helping hand that you can turn to when no one else will listen. Or when you don’t feel comfortable enough with sharing with others.”

I scratch at my horns and look around her office. “Mmm, I mean like… Should I just start talking about my problems or…”

“If you feel like it. If there is something that you feel that you really need to get off your chest and talk about, or a problem in your life that you want to focus on fixing. If you don’t feel comfortable with that, we can even spend our time talking about things that you like. Hobbies, games, books, anything. This time is for you. A past patient of mine spent our first three sessions talking about Pokémon until they were more comfortable with me.”

“Oh…”

I drink my coffee in silence and think for a while, my eyes often going to the bonsai tree and following its curves.

“I could talk about my recent change and everything going on with my demons. I could tell you about Nathanial… But honestly, I’m sort of tired of talking about and worrying over those things… Not to mention that my girlfriend, Sky, really helped me with it earlier…”

“Ah, miss Sky? Such a lovely young lady.”

“Hmm?” I look up at her. “You’ve met?”

She smiles, “Ah yes. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting her. Just a simple meeting mind you, not a sit down and chat like this. She is quite the beautiful woman. I would certainly love to have the chance to have a proper talk with her someday. Maybe you could bring her to a future appointment, and we can all chat.”

“That would be nice. She asked if she should come with me today, but I asked her to stay.”

“That is probably for the best for now. At least until the two of us start to better understand one another. Now, you say that she has been helping you through a problem that you’ve been having?” She asks.

“Mmm…. Ya, have you been told about what is going on…? Why I am here?”

“Yes, I have. I’ve been provided with a copy of your file and informed of recent events. You are currently suffering from compulsive behavioral issues, feelings of possessiveness, and bursts of anger towards anyone that challenges said feelings. On top of this you have stated concerns in regard to the soldier that you turned.” Her tone is neutral and unjudgmental. Like she is simply reading of a list of things to do, and not a list of reason for why I should hate myself.

I play with my coffee mug, clinking my claws against it. “Was there anything else?”

“Yes, but I find that it is unhelpful to delve into and discus one’s records without the absolute necessity to do so.”

“Can I see my file?”

“No, is the answer I am supposed to give you. But I have no real way of stopping you from seeing it. It is sitting on my desk if you’d like. But I advise against doing so.”

I look over at her desk and just like she said, there is a thick file sitting on her desk. She doesn’t move from her chair to stop me and simply watches. I’m tempted to give it a look, to see what it has to say about me. I stay seated.

“Why shouldn’t I look at it. Is it something bad?”

“No, no. Not at all. In fact, a lot of people have good things to say about you. The problem is that, should you read it, you may find the ‘issues’ pointed out about yourself and take efforts to hide and conceal these, rather than take a more healthy approach of improving yourself through therapy, self-reflection, and personal growth. The opinions of others carry quite a lot of weight and have a way of influencing our decision making. We are here for you, not for how others see you. Even if it is mostly positive, hmhmhm.” She finishes and takes a sip of coffee.

I give the file one last look and decide to disregard it. If the trained medical professional tells me I shouldn’t, then I probably shouldn’t do it. “Ok… Um, back to Sky, I guess. She’s always a big help for me. She’ll hold me and let me cry as I tell her everything. But even then, she never judges me for any of it or hold it over me. She just pets my hair and lets me pour everything out. It’s reassuring to know that I have her to turn to when I need someone. Even if she can’t fix my problems, I at least know that she will keep loving me.” I tell her, a big blush on my face.