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042 » two do-S walk into a bar...

[Personally, Ryan thinks that this whole idea of him needing to pass a psych evaluation is rubbish. It's only natural to attack when someone's hand brushes up on your rear, isn't it? It's hardly his fault that he broke the man's nose and pulled a knife on him. This country is too damn crowded...

But the law is the law, and there were quite a lot of witnesses that saw the scary gaijin with the demonic red eyes attacking an innocent salaryman (who had, in fact, touched him by accident). Even Ryan isn't bullheaded enough to try and fight under these circumstances. So he submits to this song and dance, purposefully choosing a nearby clinic on the list of places he can go to get clearance that has someone on the staff who doesn't even have a doctorate yet. If he was able to fool the psychiatrist when he was only 10, he'll be able to fool whoever this hack is.

Or so he thinks up until the man that will be evaluating him walks into the office he was told to wait in. Oh, dear. He wasn't exactly calm at the time so he can't be sure, but he's fairly certain he saw this man on the train. Ryan stands politely and waits for him to sit, though he doesn't greet him or offer his hand. That sort of inconvenience should be the burden of the person who's being paid for the interaction!]

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[kurose tries to approach a new patient with any preconceptions or expectations — but, that being said, he cannot help the brief expression of recognition that crosses his face when he spots ryan standing in the evaluation room.]

Oh, you...

[that's right — he has seen this man before. kurose was on the train when ryan flipped out at a seemingly innocent office worker and pulled a knife. he hadn't been the one to try and de-escalate or contain the situation — an off-duty police officer happened to step in before he could — but as ryan was led off the train, kurose assumed that that would be the end of it.

now he has the same train attacker waiting in his office.

small world.

nevertheless, kurose is not the type to rush to conclusions, so he calmly pulls his expression into perfect neutrality once more. he does not offer any handshakes, but he gestures to a nearby chair as he makes his way towards his own seat.]

...Good morning. Please have a seat and make yourself comfortable.

[Wonderful. He recognizes him, because of course he does. Ryan just loves being forced to interact with people who heard him screaming "don't touch me!" in public. At least it was in English, so maybe he didn't understand?

Typically, Ryan's expressions are fairly neutral as well, but he manages to look contrite as he rubs the back of his neck and settles back down. It would probably fool most people — unfortunately for Ryan, anyone with actual training can see the tension in his posture as he stiffly crosses his legs. When he speaks, his Japanese is surprisingly good. The combination of Ryan being paranoid when not able to understand the people around him and being a perfectionist have resulted in him picking things up quickly and accurately.]

You were there that day, weren't you? I suppose that saves a little time... my apologies if I frightened you. I wasn't exactly at my best; I hadn't slept for over 24 hours.

[Which is true, but also not uncommon for him and not at all a good excuse.]

I was. I remember the incident.

[no point in lying, after all, and anyway, kurose doesn't lie to patients — or to anybody — as a general rule. he takes a seat at his desk unhesitatingly, again not offering any kind of handshake, though he does take note of ryan's body language, and watches him rather intently.]

My name is Riku Kurose. I understand your name is Ryan Walker. Would you prefer to be called Ryan?

[kurose's english is remarkably good compared to that of most japanese men his age — he pronounces the hard r in ryan just fine, though his tongue does lend itself to a slightly softer pronunciation of walker.]

Whatever is easiest for you, Mr. Kurose.

[Though the way he says "Mr. Kurose" suggests he would prefer to be called "Dr. Walker". It's better to keep some distance between them, especially when Kurose's studying him so carefully. He would prefer to put some physical distance as well, to get far enough away that his every move isn't being cataloged and judged. This is exactly why he doesn't like people who make a job out of analyzing people... Ryan rubs his thumbs over his index fingers a couple times, uneasy. Damn, it's hard to not immediately start offering more explanations for his behavior. He's supposed to wait for Kurose to ask him why he thinks he snapped, right? Otherwise he looks overly defensive.]

[ryan is clearly agitated, though by what, ryan isn't sure. undoubtedly this is an unpleasant situation to be in, but that doesn't explain his near nail-biting nervousness. perhaps he thinks that kurose will be biased against him now that he's found out that the psychiatric counselor witnessed his little incident on the train.]

As you know, I'll be your counselor today. I'm here to conduct a mental health evaluation on behalf of your employer. This is a routine examination, so please be at ease. Rest assured, any information you share with me today is confidential, and no one save me will hear about it.

[he pauses for a moment.]

Do you have any questions for me before we begin?

Edited 2018-01-20 19:06 (UTC)

["How much can I pay you to just sign my papers?", "How old are you, anyway?", "Are you going to be unnecessarily strict since you're so young and you don't have a doctorate and you have something to prove?"...are all inappropriate questions, so Ryan simply shakes his head.]

Go ahead.

...Okay.

[that's... unusual. most patients get a little annoyed with kurose's lack of bedside manner and ask him for personal details, but kurose isn't going to hold that against the man. he's certain that writing in a pad is going to agitate ryan even more, but he does need to take notes, so kurose quietly reaches for a pen on his desk and clicks it open.]

Let's start with some basic medical background questions. Could you tell me how old you are, please?

[Indeed, his eyes immediately lock on the pen. It's like he's a subject... Ryan's nostrils flare slightly, but there's otherwise no outward reaction.]

I'm 26.

[After a pause, he adds:]

And type O-.

[For whatever reason, that seems to matter to Japanese people. Giving his blood type isn't going to tell Kurose anything about him though, because he couldn't be further from how Japanese people typically think type O people are. Ryan knows because his coworkers comment on it with annoying frequency.]

[the blood type detail isn't relevant to his psychological examination, but it could be helpful if ryan suddenly needs a blood transfusion in the middle of kurose's questioning, so he dutifully jots both details down in his notepad.

kurose's cool blue eyes only flick up to look at ryan again when he's finished writing.]

Your racial background and occupation?

[if ryan weren't obviously non-japanese, he wouldn't even ask the former question, but it seems relevant now — to kurose's curiosity if nothing else.]

[Isn't it obvious just looking at him? He's white!

...which, he realizes after looking at Kurose like he's an alien for a few moments, doesn't automatically mean "from the USA".]

I'm a researcher from America. I was transferred here for the time being since I'm young and relatively unattached.

[He has no attachments. None. That's not something he's going to say to someone psychoanalyzing him, though.]

[no attachments could mean little social support, and even more so for an expatriate, even if he does speak very good japanese. then again, kurose's well aware that he himself has few social attachments, and he's not that mentally unhealthy. but then, he's not the one who pulled a knife on someone in the middle of a train.]

I see. [he says, without missing a beat.] What do you research?

[How much is he allowed to talk about work? If the company chose Kurose, he must be able to give at least a few details. Ryan assumes the actual nature of their research is still classified, but he's eager to talk about it anyway. He even brightens up a bit.]

I'm being paid to work in pathology at the moment, but I also enjoy neurology, microbiology, genetics — my interest is in the life sciences for the most part.

[Which is not to say he doesn't enjoy other types of science because he absolutely does, but if he doesn't narrow his focus he won't get much done.]

[since ryan seems interested in this subject, it feels safe to let him talk about it a little more. kurose prods for more, carefully and with caution.]

Have you always enjoyed the sciences?

Of course. Who wouldn't want to know more about the world around them? Besides, we didn't really have television at my house and fiction books never particularly interested me, but we had a lot of property so it was easy to carry out studies on the plants and wildlife.

[He'll refrain from chattering too much, though. Most of the things he studied would just call his sanity into question even more... normal children don't go back to a decomposing squirrel corpse day after day to draw the process of it rotting.]

[kurose liked fiction books, himself, but being "friends" with a struggling writer had something to do with that. he doesn't comment on ryan's not growing up with television.]

It sounds like you grew up in the countryside. Is that correct?

Not exactly. My family had a lot of property, but we were still near a city. I was...

[Ryan pauses, trying to remember one of the many teasing names he's been called. Bocchan? That sounds stupid. He just shakes his head and says simply:]

We had money.

[if this wasn't a professional setting, where kurose is expected to act and behave a certain way, he might be tempted to answer with a teasing "really? so did i." unfortunately, he's trying to earn his doctorate without any weird rumors popping up about him, so he simply nods in numb acceptance of this new fact about ryan, who is thus far just another patient.

an adult patient, at that. kurose generally prefers working with children. they're more fun.]

I understand.

[since the constant pen scribbling seems to be ruining kurose's (admittedly tepid) attempts to break the ice, kurose sets his pad and pen aside in favor of taking up a different pen and a neatly stapled multiple-page form.]

I think that covers the preliminary questions for now. The next part of your assessment will be this written examination. Try to answer as honestly as you can. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me for clarification.

[he offers ryan the form and the pen.]

[To be fair, Ryan's probably on the emotional level of a child...

His relief is obvious. He can fake a written exam far better than an oral one. That relief has his guard lowering slightly, and he doesn't think anything about taking a sanitary wipe out of his pocket and opening it up to grab that pen with. The paper... well, it's been freshly printed most likely, he'll just try to live with it. It's not like it would have been handled and chewed on like a pen might have.]

Thank you.

[Ryan flips through the exam before writing anything down. Thankfully, it's mostly multiple choice so he doesn't have to embarrass himself trying to remember how to write kanji. Reading them isn't too terrible at least, though he will take out a pocket dictionary to look at a couple times.

Ah, so this is one of those exams, is it? He won't be tricked. Ryan makes sure to answer the same every time a question is reworded, and he answers like he's a normal, well-adjusted person. He knows how he should think, at least. The fact that he's gaming it combined with his reading speed still being slow in Japanese means he'll be at it for awhile.]

[...that gesture with the pen.

could it be — does ryan have mysophobia? if he does, that does go a long way in explaining why he might react so violently to any perceived touch on the train. it is hard for kurose to articulate the reasons behind the quickening of his pulse. it's not arousal, or anything like that — no, what he feels is excitement. anticipation. like wanting to sink your teeth into a challenge.

this is the reason he entered this field.

though kurose's intention was to calmly work on something else while keeping a close eye on ryan, his mind is far from his other cases at the moment, and he cannot help but watch ryan a little too closely as the foreigner works on the written mental evaluation.

so he's not as good at written japanese as he is at conversational... well, that's not terribly uncommon...]

[He's being studied, isn't he? The hairs on the back of Ryan's neck are standing up, and he feels that distinct discomfort that comes from being watched too closely. Is Kurose trying to make sure he doesn't flip back to reference older questions? Well, too bad for him, Ryan doesn't need to glance back to remember what he's already answered. When he's finished up he places the paper and the pen on the desk that separates them, tossing the wipe and the package it came in into the trash.

Now he just has to wait. There should be nothing wrong with his test, so he'll just get off with a write up as soon as he's cleared this.]

[when ryan finishes, kurose seems to take a moment to notice that the man's movements have gone still. he blinks, then sort of — half-smiles, as though he means to smile broadly but his face does not lend itself to being stretched.]

Ah. Did you finish?

[somewhat absently, kurose rises from his seat and crosses the short distance to where his patient has been working, one hand out to collect ryan's paper. unlike before, where his voice was low, clipped, and careful, he seems to be making more of an effort to sound warm and friendly.]

Thank you. You worked really hard, Ryan.

[What's with him? That paper was easily within his reach. Ryan leans back in his chair to maintain his distance, trying to not look too disgruntled when Kurose praises him like he's a kid that just did an unpleasant chore.]

Kanji isn't that difficult for me. It was just a questionnaire...

[that's when kurose's fake smile turns halfway genuine — he actually has to suppress a laugh. part of it is that he's just realized his own mistake, but part of it is also that ryan's reaction isn't too far off how some older boys, on the way to adolescence, will react to praise. it's — what is the phrase? — tsundere.]

I apologize. I didn't mean to offend you. It's just, I normally work in the pediatric ward...

[in true japanese fashion, kurose opts to not elaborate and just lets that speak for itself as he picks up ryan's paper on his own. he isn't doing a thorough read-through just yet, but he flips quite casually through ryan's responses, looking for red flags here and there.]

Edited 2018-01-23 04:34 (UTC)

Is that so, [he comments mildly, not really intending to make conversation. Well, that's probably to his advantage, anyway. Adults are more complex than children, Kurose doesn't have his doctorate even, he'll be fine...

...except that test of his is too normal, too consistent. It reads exactly like an ideal employee, and while Ryan is no doubt diligent, ideal he is not.]

[after a few seconds, kurose has more or less deduced that ryan's given him three pages of finely crafted bullshit. none of what ryan has written here is consistent with his paranoid and distrustful behavior.

of course, this is all — psychologically — to be expected. written exams are only as helpful as how honestly they are answered. and standard practice dictates that kurose should send ryan home, tell the good doctor's employer that he failed the mental health assessment, and book then him several appointments with some qualified colleagues.

it's just — kurose doesn't think that's the best course of action.]

You must be uncomfortable in this office. I'm guessing you'd like to go back to work.

[While he doesn't confirm that he's uncomfortable (he is), Ryan is quick to affirm the rest of that statement.]

Of course. I'm working on a number of sensitive projects, and I would greatly prefer to get back to them before someone else mucks everything up.

[God, someone else is probably already handling his work with their grubby, clumsy hands...! It's only been a few days since he's been on suspension and he's likely lost weeks of progress.]

[slowly, in no particular rush — indeed, as if for dramatic impact — kurose puts the test down, then folds his hands over it. his blue eyes find ryan's red ones; he stares at the scientist without fear.]

I'll be honest with you, Ryan. Based on these results, I should fail you.

[for a moment, this seems like some absurd teacher-student porno situation, in which kurose plays the immoral professor who is about to demand some extra credit.]

[Thankfully, Ryan isn't the type to assume that. A few scenarios immediately come to mind: Kurose may want him to beg a little to boost his ego (which he'll do if he absolutely has to), he may want to be paid to pass him, or he might just be soft enough that he won't fail him but is letting him know that he needs help "for his own good".

The last one seems unlikely.

Though Ryan's expression doesn't show his anxiety as he meets Kurose's gaze, his pupils do dilate significantly. He'd be angry at his body for betraying him if he knew.]

Why is that?

During this assessment, you've demonstrated that you have few social connections, you have an unhealthy aversion to human contact, and — most significantly — you aren't above lying in order to try and pass this test. That, plus with the knowledge that you threatened a complete stranger with a knife...

[he shrugs.]

Statistically speaking, you're likely to repeat this same incident.

[kurose, himself, is not like most people. he is not prone to making unnecessary movements; he tends to be conscious of the moments when his emotions are visible. his folded hands do not even so much as twitch upon his desk.]

...If I follow clinic protocol, I'll have to inform your company that you failed your health assessment and your case will be transferred to one of my colleagues. [he pauses, again, briefly, and adds:] However... I don't think that's the best option at this point.

[An aversion to contact is not unhealthy! It's the opposite of unhealthy, Ryan never gets sick. A million childish rebuttals immediately bubble up inside him, ready to spew past his lips the moment he opens them. But Ryan swallows them all, looking distinctly like he just stepped in dog shit. There's no point in trying to argue or in hiding his irritation, because Kurose is absolutely right — just about everything he put on that test was a bald-faced lie.

He exhales slowly.]

What do you think the best option is, then?

[Hopefully he'll just come right out with whatever he wants instead of making Ryan drag it out of him. He's not feeling particularly patient.]

[deliberately — because, again, the majority of kurose's movements are deliberate — kurose leans back, ever so slightly, in his chair. he regards ryan with a thoughtful gaze.]

...How about this: I will inform your employer that you passed, and that the incident on the train is unlikely to reoccur.

[then, at last, is when kurose relaxes his posture, folding his hands flat against his desk.]

That way, you'll be able to return to work. And after work, or during your free days, you'll meet with me, rather than with one of my colleagues.

[That makes absolutely no sense, he must just be trying to weasel money out of him. Ryan wrinkles his nose, mirroring Kurose subconsciously as he leans back as well.]

If you want money, I'll just pay you. You don't have to bother with setting up meetings.

[His tone very clearly says he thinks they would be a waste of time.]

I don't want money.

[it goes against everything about him: the way he speaks, the way he looks, the way he acts. it doesn't seem to suit him at all. kurose isn't some baby-faced, idealistic puppy-dog psychiatrist who's eager to save all of his patients; he definitely doesn't seem to have any special interest in ryan, who is more or less not his type. it doesn't seem to be the sort of thing he'd say at all.

and yet, kurose seems dead serious when he says:]

I want to help you.

[How utterly ridiculous. He wants to "help" him — with what? As far as Ryan is concerned he doesn't have a problem save for needing a lot of personal space, and once he has enough money to work only on commission, he'll have that space and more.]

That's too nebulous of a concept. When would you decide I've been helped? It's entirely subjective.

[Still, he is desperate to get back to work. Ryan worries at his lower lip with his teeth as he tries to come up with more concrete terms. If he's going to agree to something, he wants it to be clearly defined.]

...six months. I'll meet with you at least once a week for six months.

[That's bearable. He just has to endure it, he doesn't have to actually do anything.]

[well, alright. he should have figured that wouldn't be specific enough for a guy like ryan. at least once a week for six months means roughly twenty-four sessions. not really enough time to promise anything, but —

but at the very least, kurose can try.

(at the very least, maybe he can put the incident with nishigaki behind him.)

for a moment, kurose considers negotiating on the amount of time, but that seems like it would be pushing too far. as a gesture of good faith, it seems more reasonable to just accept ryan's proposal unaltered.]

...Very well, then. Six months.

[the briefest pause, and then —]

Are your Saturdays or Sundays free?

[While Kurose considers, Ryan mulls over if he's actually going to go to those sessions. As soon as his clearance hits the company desk, he's free to work again. There's no real reason he would have to uphold his end of the bargain. Except he would owe him if he doesn't comply. Still, when Kurose agrees to it, he can't help but be tempted. Someone willing to agree to such a lopsided bargain deserves to be taken advantage of. Or has he somehow revealed that he's the type of person who doesn't break his promises...?

No, he hasn't. Kurose just really wants this for whatever reason. Maybe he wants to write his thesis on creepy gaijin. Thinking of it that way is far more palatable than thinking he wants to help.]

I work every day, but Sundays are voluntary. I can lessen the amount of time I spend on my personal projects that day.

[If he has to. Goodbye, dreams of making a zombie assistant as useful as Bernie to help him here in Japan...]

[though doing his thesis on westerners struggling to adapt to japan actually sounds like it might a decent idea idea (provided he can do some original new research on it), kurose is quite serious when he says he wants to help. because he does want to help. he has to, if he wants to make up for the greatest regret in his life.

...his motivations just might get a little muddled along the way.

naturally, kurose has no guarantee that ryan will honor their promise. but then, no good relationship with a patient was ever built on distrust, control, and fear... even if this is already a situation in which they are grappling for control.

for a moment, kurose considers telling ryan that he has a poor work-life balance, but it's really starting to sound like ryan has no life outside of his work, so such a comment will obviously be unhelpful...]

...Once a week for six months, then.

[there's no particular inflection behind these words — kurose doesn't even appear, on face value, especially smug or displeased...]

[And people say that Ryan is expressionless. What an odd man. He stands, fishing out a business card with his number on it (he can adapt to some cultural practices, at least). Ryan places the card on Kurose's desk.]

That's my number. I'll leave you to work out the details. Just don't arrange meetings anywhere that's loud, crowded, or dirty.

["Crowded" rules out a hell of a lot of places in a city this size. It might be difficult to work with, but Ryan doesn't particularly care. It's Kurose's problem, now.]

Simply doing it here would be preferable, but since this is off the books, I don't know if that's possible.

Edited 2018-02-07 08:18 (UTC)

[avoiding loud, crowded, and dirty places, hm? well, that's more or line with what kurose is expecting. they'll have to have the conversation about whether or not ryan has mysophobia later. for now, he takes ryan's card.]

That's no trouble. I'm afraid it would be strange for me to meet someone in the clinic after my usual hours, but I can find somewhere suitable for us to meet. I'm not fond of crowded places, myself.

[since he's sure that ryan would like to minimize the contact of their hands, kurose pauses, then slides his entire box of business cards in ryan's direction so that the man can take one (or two, kurose wouldn't judge) for himself.]

My number's on my card.

[obviously...]

[Should he take one? He starts to lift a hand, frowning. Ryan glances down at the card for a moment. It's not necessary for him to take one, so he decides not to — not only does he still resent this arrangement a little (and thus feels like committing a petty little slight like not taking his card), he knows where Kurose works and he memorizes numbers very quickly. Within a few seconds he has the relevant information neatly tucked away in his brain.

He puts his hand in his pocket.]

I'll be waiting for your call, then.

[Dipping his head briefly, he turns and leaves the room. Hopefully his coworkers haven't mucked things up too badly while he was gone...]

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042 » two do-S walk into a bar...

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?! I never got that notif, wow ok

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