DR. ELLIOT'S STRANGE THERAPY 

CHAPTER 5

In the morning, when the "suicidal anime dependence" ward woke up, Ethan was surprised to find that it housed only six residents. If they could even be called that. Four girls and two boys, suggesting that females were more prone to this unusual condition. However, his arrival shifted the balance toward the male side, altering the previous forty-to-sixty ratio. Yet, he stubbornly denied his own "S.A.D." addiction, believing that psychology was mistaken in his case.

The ward had many more rooms than needed for the current patients, and as Dr. El later explained, they weren't technically classified as severely mentally ill. Therefore, the facility couldn't mix in patients with more serious conditions, as it would likely violate state regulations set by the Ministry of Health.

As a newcomer, Ethan expected the others to surround him with questions, much like in school or even prison. But the opposite happened—they practically ignored him, which slightly shocked him. Not that he was displeased—quite the contrary! He didn't want to talk to anyone, especially about his "problem." Still, realizing his predictions were wrong unsettled him. His intellect, usually sharp, had failed him lately in forecasting even the near future.

A dark, curly-haired guy, who for some reason always held hands with an older-looking blonde girl, waved to Ethan as they waited for breakfast. Ethan waved back. That was the extent of the greeting from his ward neighbors. The others ignored him indifferently, as if he were a stranger passing by, not someone who would be living and eating with them for a while.

Two of the girls were clearly older, with chestnut hair and brown eyes, looking nearly identical—obviously twin sisters, around seventeen. Another was a very young-looking girl with a boyish haircut and gray eyes, who seemed no older than thirteen. Then there was a guy in his twenties with dark, straight hair tied in a ponytail, resembling an actor from the Highlander series. He was always reading an e-reader, even during breakfast, his nose buried in it.

Ethan watched them covertly. What a strange group, he thought. They must be troubled. He assumed they'd be curious about the outside world, given their near-prisoner status. But perhaps they were too lost in their own anime-created worlds to care about dull reality. Ethan observed them from a distance, as if he weren't part of this realm of mild insanity himself.

"Hello, everyone! How's it going, Ethan? Settling in? Mind if I join you?"

Ethan looked up from his breakfast. Doctor El had already sat down with his own tray, not waiting for permission. Unlike Ethan, an unremarkable young man, Doc El's striking appearance drew everyone's attention. The patients in the S.A.D. ward watched him with a mix of admiration and fear, which surprised Ethan.

He nodded belatedly, but Doc El was already digging into his meal with the speed of a soldier after drills. In two minutes, he finished his rice porridge with minced meat and herbs, crunched through two tomato slices, wiped his mouth, and flashed a disarming, full-toothed smile at Ethan.

Ethan silently finished his breakfast, dragging it out, knowing that once he took his last bite and sipped his coffee, El would begin his "attack."

"How do you like our breakfast?" Doc El asked.

Ethan shrugged.

"First, I want to introduce you to the group, then explain a few rules we all agree to follow here."

Ethan frowned. "What kind of rules?" he asked calmly.

"You'll find out soon. So, these are Alla and Dina, twin sisters. Identical, which is pretty funny, right?"

The twins nodded at Ethan, and he smiled back, a bit confused.

"That's René. He's a bookworm, always glued to that e-reader. I prefer paper books myself—nothing beats the smell of a new book, like childhood memories in a library, or the unique scent of an old, worn one. But it's a matter of taste."

"The little one, by the way—that's her nickname—is Lara. You might think she's twelve, but she's actually eighteen. She just looks young. She's incredibly smart; try playing chess with her. She'll beat you in ten or twelve moves unless you're a grandmaster."

"The curly-haired one is Kirito, and the girl with him is Asuna."

Doctor Elliot paused, expecting a reaction, but Ethan didn't respond.

"Haven't you seen Sword Art Online?" he asked, puzzled.

"What's that?" Ethan replied, sensing it was essential knowledge for any true otaku.

"You're kidding. It's a famous anime. Kirito and Asuna are the main characters. Their real names are Vlad and Lena, but they prefer those nicknames. Humor them if you like, but you can use their real names too."

Ethan glanced at the curly-haired boy and the red-haired girl who had greeted him earlier. They smiled back.

Doctor Elliot raised his index finger like a preacher and began listing the rules: "Now, the rules. We don't pry into each other's 'illnesses'—in quotes, of course. Everyone has their secrets. I know them, but it's up to each person whether they want to share. Likewise, they won't ask about your issues. I'm here to help you all through this. I once struggled with something similar myself. Back then, there was no anime, but the symptoms were the same. Psychology didn't even recognize it. The syndrome of wanting to escape to another world, sometimes leading to suicide! Hard to believe, but many teens have died because of it. The danger is that victims never admit their problem, fearing ridicule. Like, 'What a silly thing to suffer from—cartoons!'"

Ethan, initially tense, began to relax. No one would dig into his soul or force him to confess his love for an anime character. They'd respect his privacy unless he chose to share.

"I see you like that one," Elliot continued. "Next rule: no gadgets. No internet, no computers, no phones. You've already been told. It's the main rule. Also, no conflicts! I can't stand them. Maybe they'd distract you therapeutically, but I think they do more harm."

---

The day passed surprisingly quickly, almost in a blur. Doctor Elliot was tireless when it came to entertainment and hobbies. He knew everything—electronics, martial arts, fencing, history, drawing, music. And this was all part of treatment? Ethan had thought that without gadgets or TV, life would be dull, but Doc El proved otherwise. After breakfast, they went to a large room converted into a kendo hall. Ethan, new to kendo, was thrilled. Real Japanese armor and shinais! Doctor Elliot, with professional ease, explained and demonstrated sword techniques, weaving in history from Japan and beyond, comparing fencing styles across cultures. His voice was mesmerizing, as if he wielded storytelling magic.

After two hours of kendo, they moved to the music room, where Ethan tried the violin under Doc El's patient guidance. He even taught magic lessons! This continued until evening, when Doc El left at six, with the kids seeing him off. Not a word about suicidal anime addiction. By nightfall, Ethan's hostility toward the hospital had vanished. It was fascinating here—thanks to Doc El. Still, he hadn't bonded with the others. They ignored him, and he didn't try to engage, feeling like an outsider to their closed group, as if they guarded a secret too sacred to share.

This routine lasted three weeks until a tragic incident flipped Ethan's world upside down.

They were in a magic lesson, a frequent class second only to kendo. It was oddly captivating despite lacking actual magic—no wands, no spells, just theory. Elliot lectured on magic as "exotic energy," like dark energy, which didn't exist in our world but might elsewhere. He led meditations, energy control exercises, and imaginary duels, even writing formulas meant for magical realms.

"Any magic is just exotic energy," Elliot explained. "It's not here, but that doesn't mean it's impossible. You can practice controlling it mentally. If we imagine a world where magic is a fundamental force, like gravity or electromagnetism, we can learn to wield it—provided there are no special conditions for its use."

Then, after the lesson, tragedy struck. René, the e-reader guy, jumped from the roof. He'd tricked the orderly, taken the elevator, broken the hatch lock, climbed onto the tiles, and leaped—all in ten minutes. Ethan was stunned. The staff was in chaos—sirens, police, firefighters, and Doc El's stricken face. From his barred window, Ethan couldn't see René's body, just the commotion below.

---

Doc El didn't come to work the next day, nor the day after. On the third day, Ethan, who had stayed silent and avoided the others, couldn't take it anymore. He approached Kirito and asked bluntly, "Why did he do it?"

To his shock, Vlad's voice was calm: "He got where he wanted to go."

"What do you mean?" Ethan stammered.

"To another world. It's the only way. Don't you know?"

Ethan's eyes widened. He'd thought they were normal, but now: "So you're saying that by splattering your brains on the pavement, you can reach an imaginary world?"

Vlad-Kirito glanced at him. "Don't talk about René like that. He's a good guy."

Ethan noted the present tense. "Do you all believe that?" he asked loudly, scanning the room.

The twins looked away, but Lara and Lena-Asuna met his gaze calmly.

"You're crazy, guys! You know that?" Ethan shouted. "Completely nuts! And they're right to lock you up!"

Without waiting for a response, he stormed out, Vlad's words trailing him: "Then what are you?"

The question stung. Ethan had never considered suicide. They were wrong about him. Where did they get the idea that death led to another world? What a foolish, twisted notion! It plagued him all day. He skipped dinner, lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, while the orderly checked on him silently and left.