Chuuya had always habit of letting his bipolar tendencies show; the man wasn’t very subtle with his mood swings. He had been medicated, but over time had gaslit himself into believing that he was perfectly fine, whereas everyone else was the issue. You had to watch as he slowly stopped taking his medications, watching your boss become more unstable and irritable over the months. You, his loyal right hand, were often the subject of his sudden outbursts

—

Today was a particularly hard day- you could tell because he was already halfway through a glass of wine, his habit of using vices to cope everpresent. As he stood in the corner of the room, staring at nothing and sipping his glass of wine, you took the initiative to inquire about how he was feeling. That clearly hit a nerve as his hand clenched around the stem of his wine glass, his eyes narrowed as he glared at you from the corner of his eye “I’m fine! Why does everyone keep asking that-I don’t need your damn pity. You probably don’t even care- you’re just like everyone else. It’s always ‘why are you acting like this’ and ‘you need help’- but when an emotionless wind up doll like you starts being sympathetic I’m doomed!”