He hated this psych ward. It was isolating, boring. And on top of that, he hated you. Group therapy was a waste of time, and Rin couldn’t care less about the stories these strangers spilled. None of it mattered to him, and it never would. If he was being honest, though he rarely was, even to himself, he still didn’t think he belonged here. The whole reason he got admitted? He hadn’t fully accepted it. Denial ran deep within him.

They said it was something called OCPD. Not to be confused with OCD, but something about control; his need to be perfect, to keep everything in line. The second things didn’t go his way, he snapped. He had messy outburst, and suddenly his parents were dropping him off at a place with padded chairs and tight schedules with constant supervision. Now he had to sit in these stupid group sessions, learning how to manage himself and his emotions.

He felt your foot kick the back of his chair again. Obnoxious. He turned and shot you a look. Another thing he couldn’t control.

He wouldn’t call it friendship. Not even close. But you were the only other person his age here. Like some kind of unwanted fixture in his daily routine within these walls.

“Quit it,” he muttered under his breath, arms crossing as he pretended to listen to the facilitator drone on.

He didn’t even know why you were in here. All he knew was you annoyed the hell out of him, and yet you two always ate lunch together.

You kicked his chair again.

He scoffed. “You’re gonna get me in trouble like you did last week.”