No point, Souda, he told himself, they'll drag you back in. Two doors down, he could hear the session starting. The counsellor, who had a voice reminisce of a primary school teacher, was lecturing about important relationships or something. Souda stuck a smile on his face and wandered in.
"Sorry I'm late," He announced obnoxiously, revelling in the dirty looks he received. He quickly counted 13 other patients.
"No problem, Mr Souda. Please take a seat," The counsellor pointed to a chair. Without argument, Souda sat down. All he had to do now was pass the time for another 50 minutes...
"Get into partners and complete the activity. You have 10 minutes, everyone!"
The counsellor's voice shook Souda from his daydreaming. Activity? Partners? This was new. Because of his hesitation, he was left with a pale, skinny boy with whitish blonde hair that no one else seemed to want to partner with. They looked a similar age, so Souda figured he could get along for now. He took the seat beside him.
"Hey, uh, dude? What was the activity?" Souda asked tentatively, and the boy seemed to jump slightly.
"Ah, sorry. I didn't mean to partner with you," he looked nervous, unable to make eye contact with Souda.
"Oh," Souda frowned, "But I'm the only one left," The boy wanted to partner with someone else? He watched his eyes widen.
"You don't have to talk to me..." As the pale boy said this, Souda resisted to roll his eyes, but did feel sorry for him. What could he expect from support group frequents?
"No, it's okay. You seem cool," Souda sent an encouraging smile, "Do you know what the activity is?"
The boy shook his head, "Sorry, I wasn't listening either."
Souda grinned, glad to know he wasn't the only one who wanted to fall asleep through everything in this session.
"What's your name, kid?" He asked, relaxing more into his chair.
"Nagito. Komaeda."
"Cool. I'm Kazuichi Souda. Stayed here for 3 months before they put me on these weekly meetings," The small talk appeared to make Komaeda relax more too.
"I guess you're lucky. I've been in and out my whole life," Komaeda told him nonchalantly. Souda, however, was immediately very curious. If he guessed his age right, that'd be around 16 years of rehab. What was wrong with this kid?
"Really? Damn. That's gotta suck."
Komaeda perked up, "It does. But I don't know a lot different, so I'm excited to have my own life when they let me go. When I'm 20, they promised."
"How old are you now?" Komaeda's mood improvement was infectious.
"17. What about you?"
Souda raised an eyebrow, "I'm only 16. I guess I'm the kid around here then."
The pale boy smiled wider. People probably didn't talk to him much, so the idea of a new friend must've been nice. Still, Souda wondered why he was so long-term.
"I got my sentence for risky depression," he started his repetitive story, "When I was 7, a cousin of mine killed himself at 21. They always said he was suicidal, and last year I fell into a dark spot. Didn't want to live any more, but I eventually picked myself up."
Hearing this, Souda expected Komaeda to either be scared or upset that he was amiably chatting with someone like him. Instead, he looked fascinated.
"Did you try to die?"
"I thought about it a lot. Drank alcohol, took drugs and completely disregarded my health! Thankfully, I remembered my cousin one night, and quit it all," Though it was odd, Souda got the feeling of telling a fairytale to a child. Komaeda looked absorbed.
"Wow..."
"Yup. Then they locked me away in here."
For a few moments, both patients sat in silence. The other people still talked in the room to each other, but Komaeda and Souda were ignorant to whatever task the counsellor set. Next Souda hoped Komaeda would share his story, despite how sad or scary it might be. Soon enough, the pale boy spoke up.
"I was born with a disease called lymphoma. It shouldn't have developed so quickly in a baby, but it did with me. Just my luck, huh."
Souda, a strange pain in his chest, looked over Komaeda's appearance. The most noticeable features on him were his white pale hair and skin. Even his eyes lacked pigment, and his purplish lips stood out on his face.
"I probably won't live past 30, but I've heard it's not that great anyway."
That hit Souda hard. It shouldn't have, but it did. They were Komaeda's honest feelings. A boy born to get a small taste of life, then have it taken away. Who told him it wasn't that great? Whoever it was, Souda wanted to shake their shoulders very hard and ask them what they were thinking. 30 years were nothing in comparison, especially after depression recovery. When Souda hit the age of 29, would he even remember the pale boy Komaeda from support group? He would have his whole life ahead. Komaeda would be hanging on his last threads, believing that that was as good as it gets.
He didn't know how long passed, but Souda closed his open mouth when Komaeda nudged him.
"Souda? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."
"No, no, I'm sorry," Souda shook his head, once again looking at Komaeda's grey eyes, "I bet you get that a lot."
Komaeda frowned, thinking, "I don't tell a lot of people. The doctors are used to me. And I don't talk to people my age very often."
A foreign, dutiful feeling fell on Souda. He could be Komaeda's new best friend. To show him that life is whatever he makes it.
"Talk to me. Here, let's talk every week at these sessions."
They both grinned, real accomplishment fluttering in Souda's heart.
"Okay."
The counsellor's commanding voice crowed over and silenced the group, "All right, get back to your own seats, the activity is over! Be prepared to give feedback."
Uh oh, Souda thought immediately, and he saw the same thing dawn on Komaeda's face. Neither of them had done the task, so had no idea how to feedback.
"Leave it to me," Souda leaned over and whispered to Komaeda before he moved chairs.
"First, let's go to Mr Souda and Mr Komaeda!" The counsellor doomed them to their fates after everyone settled again.
With a throat-clearing cough, Souda stood up and glanced over at Komaeda. He now needed his strongest ability to wing it.
"Nagito Komaeda is a great guy who doesn't have the best of luck, but has a winning smile. In my opinion, if more people took the time to get to know him, he'd be swarmed with friends."
Without looking, he knew Komaeda would have one of his smiles on. Souda waited for the counsellor to rain down the criticism and angry questions, but surprisingly, none came.
"Good work, Souda. And Komaeda?"
He...what? He said the right thing? Was his winging ability really that good? Or was the counsellor waiting to scold them both at once? At least now, Komaeda knew what to say. He slowly stood up, fidgeting with his fingers.
"Well...Kazuichi Souda is really cool too. He could make me laugh when I didn't want to. And he saved his own life." Souda flinched when he added the last part, but appreciated it anyway. It was a unique way of thinking.
"Thank you, you two. It seems you'll be good friends," the counsellor's words were condescending, but Souda couldn't deny their truth.
For the final 20 minutes, the other patients droned on about their partners, and the counsellor praised everyone before releasing them. On their way out, Souda caught up with Komaeda.
"Hey, where do you go after these things?"
Komaeda gazed down to his feet, "Today I need to be at the hospital. One of my carers should be around the corner," He gestured to the white doors before looking up at Souda, "But next week I should have free."
"Awesome," Souda said, genuinely interested in spending more time with Komaeda. They both exited the rehab building and Souda offered his hand which Komaeda shook.
"See you next week, yeah?"
"Yeah."
On his short walk home, Souda contemplated his thoughts. For the first time ever, he left support group with an achievement and a smile. Even better, he was looking forward to his next meeting. Maybe as he tried to help Komaeda, Komaeda would also be passively helping him.
