Ms. Dubose leaned back into her leather chair, setting the clip board on her lap. Twiddling her pen, she scrutinized the group of mismatched individuals before her.

Two children, three conceited teenagers.

The first child was male. His wide cobalt eyes were framed by reflective lenses; his rigid suit adorned with an oversized scarlet bow. He almost seemed to be emphasizing his childish innocence, peering around the room with insatiable curiosity.

The other was a girl, auburn hair surrounding her face. She tucked her hands into her loose hoodie, indifferent, setting an impalpable wall between her and everyone else. No one but the boy dared to approach her. The others either ignored her, or turned away frightened when they met her glare.

The most nonchalant teenager was a brown-haired European. His arm constantly shot up, his eyes pinpointing his watch's location instantly- checking the time. Murmuring something, a look of disdain would return to his face and he would flick his cap down.

She didn't blame him. The pair left was an odd one. A dark-skinned Osakan and a boy with dishevelled hair- both were fawning over the first child. They ruffled his hair, tugging onto his arms. You would have thought they were the children, not the boy they were tormenting. With an unnerving grin, they chanted: "Kudo! Kudo! Kudo!"

Is that his name?

The boy responded with an irritated "oi, oi," a bead of sweat trickling down his face.

I guess it's time to start, Ms. Dubose sighed.

"Alright, it's time to introduce ourselves," she orchestrated. The buzz of the fan could be heard now as the chants receded, "you first." Her palm was outstretched towards the first boy.

He cleared his throat.

"My name is Conan Edogawa," he introduced himself without hesitation, "a detective."

Then Kudo must be his nickname, Ms. Dubose reasoned.

She put on a plastic smile and humoured him: "you're a detective, boy? How nice!"

Conan sighed. Of course she wouldn't take him seriously.

"7," he articulated simply.

The therapist tilted her head. What's this…?

"That's my age. But that's your child's also," he said with a juvenile ring.

The two immature teenagers snickered knowingly. Even the calmer ones managed a mischievous smile.

"You may not have realized it, but some of your child's chalk rubbed off on you. It's faint, but I can recognize the Kanjis: person, elementary school. He wanted to write about himself going to elementary school, but hadn't learned the Kanji 'go to' yet, or the kanjis for 'boy' or 'girl.' I would know, we're learning from the same program- I'm at the same point at school."

WH-what?

"Ya Kudo!" the dark-skinned teenager cheered, "But I could do ten times better than ya," he teased him incessantly.

"Are you kidding me? I'm so much better than you," he retorted with wounded pride.

Who are these people? They're definitely not ordinary; Ms. Dubose's features were still slightly twisted from the shock.

Painfully, she slipped her mask back on: "Very well done!

When she would look back at the back of her skirt later, she would notice the dim characters which had been transferred there. Very dim. She would never have noticed them had they not been pointed out.

"Dat's right, just like me," the Osakan snickered once more.

"Don't you tease my Tantei-san," the other fool admonished him, shielding the boy protectively.

"Oi, oi," Conan protested again.

Ms. Dubose cleared her throat: "Settle down. We're moving on to the next one. H… Haibara?" she glanced down at her board before pronouncing it more assuredly.

The girl looked up.

"What is it," she said sharply. Her eyes pierced through Ms. Dubose, as if she was nothing more than a specimen to examine.

The therapist felt like shuddering, but retained herself.

"Would you tell us a bit about yourself?"

"Me?" she grew grave, "My parents are dead."

Ms. Dubose paused, but couldn't help thinking: finally, some familiar territory.

"And how do you feel about that?" she recited by heart.

"Sorrowful," Haibara conceded, but before the therapist could say anything, she continued, "but it's better for them than when they were alive. They were forced, tormented by an indestructible force, one which even today we hope to destroy. We hope to shatter the chains which hold so many people… but my parents had found a way to do it themselves. It is better to be dead than remain in their clutches."

Never mind. Ms. Dubose realized.

Haibara's voice became venomous: "they killed a bird. She was free, but she tried to help me. For this, she was taken from me also- the only hope, the only wings I possessed were clipped. I could only fall."

The silence in the room was deafening. Even the fans had stopped blowing.

Ms. Dubose did not know what to say: "Your vocabulary is… um, extensive young lady."

Haibara's glare penetrated her, burning into her flesh: "that's all you have to say?"

The therapist stopped turning her pen and adjusted her glasses. Her gaze wavered momentarily.

"Ah, no, I… I'm sorry for your loss," she recovered.

"But," she added with a forceful smile and a visible scan of the room, "We can help you overcome it, right?"

"The only way that would ever happen is if…" Haibara commented, her intense stare finally dissipating, "… no, never mind."

"What is it, Haibara? We're all here to share. Sharing can help us get rid of the things burdening us," another smile raised to the occasion.

Conan dropped in: "the organisation was destroyed, right?" he acknowledged with a slight nod.

No traces of amusement on the congregation's faces remained. Even the two harlequins sat solemnly… knowingly. Once more, they all knew something Ms. Dubose didn't.

"Tell me, what is this organisation you are talking about?" she inquired innocuously.

Grinning, the child explained: "it's just an imaginary organisation that we invented. It's a story!"

He had changed again. Sometimes he seemed mature, but in an instant, he became the opposite.

Disillusionment, she noted, and split personalities.

What a complicated child.

Ms. Dubose raised her pen from the page, halting the ink flow. Beaming, she turned to the first teenager. The only one she didn't mind dealing with right now.

"And who are you?" she asked the European teenager.

He looked up: "Oh, pardon me, my name is Hakuba. Also a detective."

"Another one, well. We have quite the group today!" Ms. Dubose complimented them. She was expecting positive response… but still…

She was not expecting one of her patients to turn towards her and take her hand gallantly.

"We are unique, but you also are one-in-a-million Ms. Therapist," he whispered as if telling her a secret.

His hands clasped hers tightly, an expression of mirth on his face. He tipped it gently towards her, his eyes fluttering mistily.

There's a word for this guy…

"You are so intelligent."

I can't quite discern it…

"And very cute too."

He's…

"That's it!" she ejaculated, in a moment of epiphany, "a philanderer!"

He was knocked away immediately; the roar of his friend's following him.

"Hah! Ya got him there," the Osakan said between fits of laughter.

Hakuba snorted. Haibara even chocked what you could call a giggle. Conan and the other abandoned themselves to the hilarity of the situation.

"T-this is not funny Tantei-san," the one who had tried to woo her told the child beseechingly, "that hurt…"

"That- that's the first time you've been knocked like that!" he chortled.

Is this… ok? Do these people really need therapy?

Sometimes, they seemed so normal…

"Well then, what is your name?" she asked the philanderer.

Dusting his shirt, he addressed her: "Kuroba Kaitou. I am not-" he coughed "-a philanderer."

"Anything to say about yourself?" she asked, tentatively.

Her fingers wrung themselves around her pencil. What would this boy say?

"I hate fish. I can't stand it."

The look of disgust on his face was unmistakably real.

The therapist's eyes flickered open. W-what?

Conan and Hakuba snickered. Heiji blinked.

"He also has a tendency to steal. Kleptomania you would call it," the girl informed, as unmoving as ever, "almost every week, without fail, he has stolen something new; something which he returns every time. Therefore, it is not for economic gain, but rather for the thrill of the snatch."

Kaitou protested vehemently.

"Ah, yes," the therapist nodded. This girl…

"Therapists just love to have a name for everything, don't they? I bet you've diagnosed me with post-traumatic disorder already."

She's staring again, Ms. Dubose noticed, averting her gaze.

"It's important to categorize our conditions. Of course, everything is adapted on a case-to-case basis," the therapist explained pleasantly.

Haibara responded: "If you have post-traumatic stress disorder, the symptoms will not recede. In fact, you may start to feel worse. Yes, exactly. I do not require your assistance. I have learned to live already- from someone much more qualified than you," she said these words softly, but she was adamant.

"We'll-"

"We'll see?' We are no more than numbers to you, Ms. Dubose. Now," she came to a stand, "may I excuse myself? I have other things to do."

The therapist attempted to retain her, but Conan's cry reached her first: "Oi, Haibara!" he reached out to her, grabbing her arm, "my mom wants us to attend one session. Just, please. Stay for now."

Defiant at first, her expression softened. She sighed and sat down.

"Don't think I'll do more for you, Kudo." Her eyes shot daggers at the boy.

He chuckled nervously, but granted: "good enough for me!"

The therapist fixed her glasses. Without lifting her eyes from the paper, she asked the last person: "and you are…?"

"Heiji! My father's the chief of the Osakan police force, and I'm da best detective outta all of these wannabes," he taunted the others.

"Ya right," Conan rolled his eyes.

"2 o'clock, 34 min, 52 seconds. A detective brags and utterly fails to impress," Hakuba stated.

Heiji shook with anger.

The therapist felt obliged to step in: "Heiji, we must learn how to control our emotions. Just count to…"

"I DON'T WANNA COUNT LADY! DIS GUY'S INSULTED MY OSAKAN PRIDE! FROM NOW ON, YOU'RE MY RIVAL TOO, HAKUBA," his shouts rang across the room.

"H-Hakuba… I thought I was your rival," Kaitou looked up at him mournfully.

"I deny your request for rivalry," he agreed, with a nod to Heiji.

"Yay! We're rivals for life Hakuba!" Kuroba exclaimed, leaping onto his friend. He was thrown to the ground by Heiji- he himself yelling uncontrollably.

"Children…" the therapist raised her voice in an attempt to calm them, "children!"

Brusquely, Kaitou disappeared in a puff of smoke. It cleared. Heiji gasped- he clutched a bouquet of flowers instead of the thief's arm.

The owner laughed from another corner of the room: "That's my consolation present."

"Get back here, you thief!" his attacker said, rummaging through the corners of the room.

"Everyone, settle down," Ms. Dubose attempted to tell them.

"Oi, Heiji," Conan called him, "he's just using a button speaker to transmit his voice across the room. In fact, he has probably already left."

"Right!"

A few minutes passed, the whole group sitting in silence. I guess it'll be easier with only these three, she pondered. But as she opened her mouth to speak, Kaitou was dragged back in the dim room, kicking and screaming.

Heiji declared: "He tried a few tricks on the way. Dummies exploding into flowers were the worst."

He picked out several colorful fragments from his hair.

"Hum, 2 0'clock, 47 min, 20 sec. 12 min, and 40 sec, to Kid's stated time. I see," Hakuba informed them systematically.

"Ya…" Kaitou responded, hanging his head droopily, "Heiji, you cruel thing," he whined.

"CHILDREN," the therapist pushed herself from her chair.

All heads turned her way. Guilty pouts, vexed scowls. She sat back down, folding her hands over her lap.

"Now," she said, picking up her pen, "I'm going to tell you what is wrong with you."

Ms. Dubose pointed towards Conan: "You are suffering from bi-polar personalities, probably resulting from your prodigious intelligence. You are unbalanced, switching perpetually between maturity and childish delusion."

Conan blinked: "WH-what?" His jaw hung open. This is ridiculous, he thought.

"Yes, you will learn how to deal with these ambiguous forces within yourself. Don't worry," she reassured him, "Now, Haibara. I believe you are also deluding yourself. Your post-traumatic disorder is not improving; you are simply convincing yourself that it is so."

Haibara snorted: "There is nothing you can do for me. Give up."

The therapist answered gracefully: "We will learn to get along," she put on a fake-sincere smile.

She continued without faltering: "Hakuba, you are OCD, obsessed with checking the time. Perhaps this is due to insecurity; you want to know exactly where you are at, at all times. Now, don't interrupt me- denial is not healthy."

The detective sighed and covered his face with his cap: "Whatever."

"Kaitou, you are indeed a kleptomaniac. You also suffer from ichthyophobia- the fear of fish. For that, we'll try cognitive behavioral therapy, ok?"

Kaitou was too busy flinging flowers on a glowering Hakuba. She sighed.

"Heiji…"

The detective looked away.

She was unrelenting: "You seem to have an inferiority complex."

"INFERIORITY COMPLEX, WHAT THE HECK?" he exclaimed, astounded.

"Yes, your self-praise shows your lack of self-esteem. Your father has probably done a lot of great things, and you feel…" she dared, "… insufficient."

"But I AM da best detective! The East beats those Tokyoites any day," he grew defensive.

"I am sure you have a lot of pride for your city… it doesn't mean you have to put down every one else in an attempt to feel better."

"Hehe, you heard that Heiji?" Conan snickered.

He shot up from his seat, challenging the child to a detective battle. Heiji seemed to treat him as an equal, not bothering to remark that his playmate was ten years younger.

"Also," she addressed Kaitou and the dark-skinned detective, "I think you should find friends of your own age."

They stilled, dumbfounded: "B-but he's…"

Conan smirked.

"Oh never mind…"

"Well, I'll see you next session then," she said, dismissing them.

Leaving the room, the therapist peeked back. They're probably not coming again. This should have been good news, but despite their quirks, they were an amusing group indeed.

The smile on her face disappeared when she looked down.

Slamming the door open, she called: "Kaitou! Pick up those flowers and your confetti," she glanced downwards once more, "and while you're at it, UNTIE MY EMPLOYEES."

Kaitou grinned impishly: "Yes ma'm!"

** if I happen to receive a lot of feedback, I will post a sequel **