Chapter Text
Aizawa Sensei sat at the desk in front of the chalkboard. He was already wearing the sleeping bag with arms that Class A bought for him last Christmas, a sure sign that he planned to get through announcements and immediately lie down on the floor. "You'll be attending mandatory therapy sessions in the coming weeks."
No one immediately reacted. Izuku and his classmates had all been fooled by one ruse or another, and they knew better than to immediately believe anything Aizawa Sensei said.
"Finally," Kacchan said.
Aizawa Sensei's eye honed in on him, narrowed. "Not physical therapy. Use this homeroom to write a list of times when you're each available. After that, I don't care what you do." Then, sure enough, he tipped sideways off of the chair, hit the ground and rolled over to face the wall.
Iida stood up, which meant it probably wasn't a ruse. "Right! Do you all have detachable papers to write on, or should I locate some loose leaf?"
Scene Break
"Do therapy, don't do therapy," Kacchan grumbled, shuffling out into the hall, "Can't these idiots make up their mind?"
"Dude, you're just stir crazy," Sero said, looking back over his shoulder, "Please don't pull something and die again."
"I'm not an idiot," Kacchan said, tone rising. Then he stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes and took a breath.
Izuku kept walking, removing one source of annoyance. Kacchan's struggles to stay calm would be hysterical if they weren't so terrifying.
Scene Break
"I'm looking forward to it," Todoroki said, dipping soba noodles into sauce, "I've never been, but I'd like to try."
"Me neither," Uraraka said. She leaned forward, arms resting on the lunch table, smile just slightly strained, "I think it will help, but I'm not totally sure what to expect."
Iida solemnly adjusted his glasses. "It's an exercise of your mind and will to promote internal health. It can be difficult, but it isn't unduly painful. As future heroes, it will help us to remain responsive in crisis."
"You've been?" Todoroki asked, and immediately slurped up more noodle.
"Indeed," Iida said, "As a child, and again after Tensei's accident."
"What about you, Deku?" Uraraka asked, elbowing Izuku, "Have you been to therapy?"
"No," Izuku said, then thought a minute. "Well, in school I had a quirk counselor?"
Todoroki swallowed. "How did that work?"
"It was awkward for both of us," Izuku said. Then he took a bite of rice—it tasted like sawdust, but it gave his mouth something to do. He didn't want to keep talking.
Scene Break
All Might looked up from his computer just a tad too late. He'd definitely noticed Izuku exactly when he entered the teacher's lounge and decided to play nonchalant. "Young Midoriya, what a pleasure! How do you find second year so far?"
"It's—a bit weird," Izuku said. Because they started late, classes had been condensed this semester, which added an extra layer of chaos to an already unsettled spring. "What about you?"
"It's a lot of work, but I'm thankful to be here," All Might said. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. "But you didn't come just to ask me that. Would you like tea?"
"No thanks," Izuku said. He didn't need that long, "I was just thinking—wondering—did you hear that there's required therapy now?"
"Aizawa suggested it to the staff a few weeks ago," All Might said, unfazed by Izuku's hesitance, "I think it's a marvelous idea. I never would have thought of it then, but—if I'd had something like that when I was young, then maybe I wouldn't have made so many mistakes."
Izuku nodded, blinking. All Might's sincerity was moving. In the face of it, his question shriveled up in his throat.
Scene Break
The building stretched out above them, no more bland and gray than the others on the street, but twice as menacing.
"I think this is us, ribbit," Tsu said, one finger on her chin.
Todoroki stepped forward, grabbed the door, and held it open for them. It was a huge act of restraint that he didn't rush ahead—he'd been looking forward to this for days.
Kacchan scoffed and shuffled forward, dragging his feet. He was going to wear holes in the bottom seams of his pant legs, and then his parents would have to buy him a new uniform.
Maybe they wouldn't mind, since they had him back alive.
Scene Break
Inside, the four of them got directions from the receptionist. After heading upstairs, they they checked the room numbers on the nearest doors. Tsu and Todoroki peeled off, their destination in the other direction.
Now it was just Kacchan and Izuku, heading down an unfamiliar hall.
"Kirishima says it only works if you're honest."
Izuku nearly tripped. He'd heard Kacchan speak sincerely before, use people's real names. It happened more often than normal, these days. But Kacchan had seemed committed to his grumpy shtick.
"It's actually harder," Kacchan continued, "To say how you feel. And we can't fight all out in training."
Izuku laughed, surprise bursting out. "Are you challenging me?"
"Yeah," Kacchan said. He twisted, brought his good arm around, and pushed Izuku's shoulder with his fist. "Don't lose."
"Okay," Izuku said. Kacchan was right—he was too injured to fight seriously, and by the time he recovered, Izuku's ember might be gone. They might not ever fight again like they used to. So he could do this, for Kacchan. "I won't hold back."
Kacchan grinned, manic. Then he pivoted on his heel and kicked open the closest door.
Izuku kept walking, not wanting to get in the way. After Kacchan entered, the door closed, and Izuku remembered that he was supposed to be paying attention to where he was going. The next several seconds were just a puzzle, backtracking slightly, reading plaques until he found the right number. Instinctively, he approached the door, raised his hand to knock.
That's when the paralysis hit him. There wasn't a reason—Izuku hadn't thought enough to form one. He just didn't want to. He really didn't want to. But, in the end, that wouldn't change anything.
Izuku knocked on the door.