Surviving as a Counselor (2)
Thud, thud, thud—! The pounding on the door jolted me awake, my eyes snapping open. “…What the hell.” Still groggy, I pulled back the curtain and peered out the window. Just the dark alley. The sun hadn't even properly risen yet. It was more dawn than morning.
A dream?
Thud, thud, thud—! Nope, not a dream. With a sigh, I dragged myself out of bed. No way was I hitting the jackpot right after my first client yesterday. So who the hell was banging on someone else's door at this hour?
I got my answer the moment I headed downstairs and opened the door.
“Good morning, teacher!”
Marie, beaming brightly. And beside her stood a woman I'd never seen before, dressed in almost the exact same maid uniform. Our eyes met, and her lips twisted downward in a flash. It was like… the look Marie had given me at first? No, more like the stares from passersby when a peddler starts hawking his wares.
“And this is…?”
“This is Lize!” Marie introduced her with a huge grin. “I told you yesterday, right? About my friend who's been super sensitive lately!”
Ah. That friend she mentioned. I nodded and turned to Lize. She flinched under my gaze for a second, then reluctantly spoke up.
“Hello. I'm Lize.”
Laziness, reluctance. Half of it seemed aimed at Marie, who was making a fool of herself beside her, but the reluctance was definitely directed at me too.
What the hell did she tell her about me?
Marie poked Lize in the side. “Why are you so stiff? I told you it's fine.”
“Falling for some weird scam artist…”
“It's not a scam!” Marie snapped.
“You just get one session and your shoulders don't hurt anymore, your head doesn't hurt—!”
“Yeah, yeah. Shoulders don't hurt, head doesn't hurt, the world looks beautiful, and you feel glad to be alive. I heard that crap over a hundred times yesterday.”
“It wasn't a hundred times!”
I could pretty much guess what was going on. Marie remembered yesterday's session as just a counseling talk. An unbelievable effect from a single session that left her body relaxed. So she'd gone home all hyped up, yapping about it nonstop. To Lize, who now looked utterly fed up right beside her.
Still, a hundred times? Marie, were your parents parrots or something?
No reason to keep a paying customer standing outside, so I stepped aside. “Come on in.”
I ushered them inside and pointed to the sofa. Lize still looked suspicious right up to the end, but she sat down anyway. And of course, Marie plopped right next to her like it was natural.
Nope. Not you. I smiled as naturally as possible and stated it like it was an established rule.
“Counseling is one-on-one.”
“Huh?” Marie's eyes went wide. “Why?”
Why? I couldn't exactly have you watching while I put your friend to sleep and massage her.
“It's a place for personal stories. Having someone else there might make it hard to speak freely.”
Even I thought that sounded pretty convincing. Lize gave a small nod, clearly agreeing.
“That's true.”
“Marie, could you wait outside for a bit?”
Marie pouted reluctantly. “Aww… I could stay, though.”
“No, you can't.”
“Why are you so firm about this…”
“It's the counseling office policy.”
Marie stood up with a disappointed look. “Fine! I'll wait outside then.”
“Yeah, just give me a few minutes.”
As she headed for the door, Marie couldn't resist one last comment. “Lize, don't be so tense. It's really good.”
“Just go already.”
Finally, Marie stepped out. Lize stared at the closed door for a moment and let out a small sigh.
“…She's way too excited.”
“Yeah, I can tell.”
“She's been talking about you nonstop since she got home yesterday.”
Flattering, but a little scary too. I smiled and gestured for her to relax.
“It's fine. Go ahead and tell me whatever's on your mind.”
The counseling content was right in line with what I'd expected. Tired. Too much work. Not enough sleep. Headaches. Stiff shoulders. Noble house maids all seemed to live the same grind.
Just like with Marie, I nodded along, slipping in “I see” and “That must be tough” at the right moments. Gradually, Lize's stiff voice started to loosen up.
About time.
“Lize.”
“Yes?”
“Could you close your eyes for a bit?”
“Something special, huh.”
“It's part of relaxing your tension.”
Lize still looked dubious, but she closed her eyes as I asked. I carefully placed my fingertips on the back of her hand.
Her breathing slowed. Her shoulders eased open bit by bit. Her head tilted slightly. After a few deep breaths, Lize slipped into sleep in no time.
Hypnosis
Good. Success again. With familiar motions, I worked on her shoulders, the back of her neck, and the knotted spots on her back in sequence.
“Mm…”
Even in sleep, Lize's body was tense at first, but after a few more presses, she let out a soft groan and relaxed completely.
15 minutes later.
“Lize.”
“…Mm.”
“The session's over.”
Lize slowly opened her eyes. Her dazed pupils focused, and she tentatively touched her shoulder.
“It… doesn't hurt. Neither my shoulder nor my head.”
She froze in a blank expression for a moment, then muttered seriously.
“I thought Marie was just exaggerating, but it's real. Just like you said, teacher—letting go of the tension…”
She phrased it like she'd really heard words I never said, then pulled a coin from her pocket and placed it on the table.
“The first session is free, though.”
“I can't just leave without paying for this.”
Lize stated firmly. “…And it's even more suspicious that it's free, so charge from the start next time.”
As she headed for the door, she paused.
“I should tell my sister to come too.”
Then she glanced back with a slight bow.
“…Glad I came today.”
The next day, around lunchtime.
Ding-a-ling— The door opened, and the bell rang clear. I glanced up casually, then blinked at the silhouette filling the doorway.
Taller than Marie or Lize by a head. Her impeccably maintained maid uniform had not a single wrinkle, and her steps showed no hesitation.
“I'm Helen.”
She gave a light bow. “Head maid of the Levantia Count Residence.”
Straightforward introduction. But when she said her title, her shoulders straightened just a touch—like she took pride in her position.
Levantia Count Residence. Head maid. She seemed to think that explained everything…
Not a clue.
Whatever. It didn't matter who she was—my job stayed the same.
“Have a seat.”
Helen sat without disturbing her posture. Back straight, gaze steady, hands neatly on her knees. The thorough, strict type, obviously.
“My sister kept insisting, so…” While I sized her up, Helen spoke calmly. “She's not one to exaggerate, but she was so worked up this time that I came to check myself.”
“Is your sister's name Lize, by any chance?”
“Yes. That's right.”
Helen nodded and volunteered the details without prompting. If young maids messed up, the blame fell on her. The countess's schedule was packed, especially during the social season—preparations dragged into the dawn.
“I thought I could handle it, but lately it's been quite tough.”
Helen furrowed her brow as she said it. “I'm always exhausted. But I can't show it. If I falter, the girls under me will too.”
Like Marie and Lize, crushed by work—but with higher responsibility came greater pressure. She didn't say more, but I got the picture.
“I understand completely.” I nodded. “Would you close your eyes for a moment?”
Helen looked at me for a beat. Not suspicion—more like appraisal. Then she quietly closed her eyes.
“Yes. I'll listen.”
The moment my fingertips touched, her breathing slowed. Tension melted from her stiff neck, her taut shoulders sinking gradually.
Hypnosis
It worked on her too. With practiced hands, I pressed her shoulders, focusing on her neck and upper back.
Even asleep, Helen's ingrained habit of maintaining posture made her body resist relaxation at first.
Responsibility turns into a scary habit.
After a few firmer presses, her upper body finally went limp.
“Haht…”
In that instant, her far more ample chest jiggled noticeably—way more than Marie's. I averted my eyes and refocused on the shoulder muscles.
About 15 minutes later, “Helen.”
“……”
“The session's over.”
Helen slowly opened her eyes and immediately straightened her posture.
“Just as you said, teacher. There was definitely something wrong with my mindset.”
“…Like what?”
Same result as before. She didn't remember what happened while asleep, filling in the gaps with counseling talk to explain the relief.
“Like you said, just enduring isn't everything. Sometimes delegating is less burdensome.”
She spoke calmly, but with clear surprise. She was subtly testing her lightened shoulders, trying not to show it.
I smiled. “Glad it helped.”
Helen gazed at me a moment, then placed the fee on the table.
One silver coin. Definitely more than the copper from Marie or Lize.
At the door, Helen gave a wry smile. “Lize, honestly.”
“Pardon?”
“She should've recommended you more strongly.”
Helen smiled faintly. “I'll be back soon, teacher.”
Ding-a-ling. The door closed.
Alone in the counseling office, I stared at the money and muttered softly.
“This thing might actually make it.”
After that, things snowballed fast. A few days later, customers were lining up before I even opened in the morning.
“Marie sent me.”
“Marie recommended you…”
“Marie said to come if your shoulders hurt—.”
Word travels a thousand miles without feet, huh. But with feet like Marie's, it was even more efficient.
More customers was great. But my counseling relied heavily on the perk, hypnosis.
Limit: 3 times per day / 15 minutes per use
15 minutes wasn't an issue. As long as it worked within that time, it was fine.
The real problem was the three-times-a-day cap. Exactly three customers, then nothing. Sure, I could do regular talk sessions. But without that “unbelievable refreshment” they craved, I'd just have to send them away and tell them to come back tomorrow.
And that sparked weird rumors. Doesn't take just anyone. Gotta be lucky. It's so legit they pick and choose. Nah, it was just the limit.
Anyway, the rumors drew maids even faster, leading to the mess right now.
“I got here first!”
“No, the line starts here!”
“I'm from a duke's house!”
“So what!”
By morning, the alley in front of the Isaac Psychology Counseling Office had turned into a marketplace. I pressed my forehead from inside the door.
“…What now.”
Reservations? Number tickets? Would that even fly in this world?
I pondered, then stepped out. “Hold on. Let's sort the line first—”
That's when it happened.
A carriage wheel stopped at the alley entrance. Clunk. Then the door opened.
The chattering maids fell silent one by one. I whipped my head around instinctively.
A luxurious carriage stood at the mouth of the alley. Its door opened, revealing a woman.
She gathered her long skirt daintily with her fingertips, stepping down gracefully, one foot at a time. The maids parted instinctively for her elegant descent—no one told them to.
“Excuse me.”
A clear voice, neither too high nor cold. Polite, yet with that familiar looking-down gaze. I found myself straightening up without thinking.
She glanced up at the sign—[Isaac Psychology Counseling Office]—then turned her eyes to me.
“This is the Isaac Psychology Counseling Office, right?”
“Yes, it is.”
She nodded slightly at my answer. “I see.”
Her gaze swept over the long line of maids. No embarrassment, no awkwardness. As if this chaotic scene had only one person worth addressing: her.
Her eyes returned to me. “You seem quite busy.”
“A little… yes.”
“I see.”
A brief silence. She never lost her smile. Not a hint of doubt about whether to wait in line or not.
“Should I make a reservation right now?”