[Honestly? Travis just showed up for the free food without paying the "counseling" part too much mind. Eventually, a dark-haired American man wanders in and spends a few moments browsing the selection before helping himself to a fruit sandwich; as he unwraps the plastic, he deposits himself unceremoniously into the chair opposite Maruki.]

Thanks. Travis Touchdown. [He nods gratefully at Maruki.] Nice place you got here, Doc.

[Travis is around Maruki's age, but lax where the doctor is steady-- his shoulders slouch, there's holes in his jeans, he's manspreading rudely in this chair. But there's an attentive light in his bright blue eyes and a long, now-faded scar over his left eye.]

So, you're a counselor, huh? [Travis glances down at his sandwich, picking a strawberry out of it and popping the fruit into his mouth.] Are you just doing this out of the goodness of your heart, or has this helped drum up business for you at all?