44. The Therapist

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The woman sat in front of you, inspecting your body language. Principal Nezu hired a woman because you'd most likely freak out if you were alone in a room with a man.

You were growing used to the prying eyes. She seemed like a cold, calculating woman. Principal Nezu introduced you to her and just left, as if he assumed that everything would fall into place after that.

"Do you take any prescriptions?" She asked, prepping her clipboard to write down notes.

"Only the one prescribed to me for my quirk. It was specifically made so that only I can take it."

"Is it alright if I see it?" The woman placed her palm out for you to put the prescription in.

You took the bottle and placed it in her hand. She inspected it and found a curious label.

"Is your quirk associated with dying?"

"Yes. When I die, I have access to any quirk that I need when in time of need."

She hummed, writing it down. "Has there been any past incidents that have bothered you this past week?"

"Yes."

She wrote it down.

"Are you sexually active?"

"No."

"Do you feel unsafe at this facility?"

"No."

"Do you consume alcohol or smoke cigarettes?"

"No."

She paused to finish writing before asking another question.

"Have you been feeling numb lately, or finding disinterest in your hobbies?"

"I guess."

Haven't been making any kind of art the past few weeks.

She checked off something on her clipboard.

"Have you gotten panic attacks or experienced hyperventilation these past few weeks and or days?"

"I guess."

Check.

"Insomnia?"

"I guess."

Check.

"Do you usually get depressed especially during the winter?"

"I don't know."

Too much going on to focus on yourself.

"Do you feel unmotivated and feel as if the future is impossible?"

"I guess."

You hated school.

Check.

"It seems you have depression.  Depression is a state of mind that is serious and long-term that lowers the enjoyability of life and the inability to vision a future." She adjusted her golden brimmed glasses. "Depression may be cured and has prescriptions. Based on your behavior, I will be sure to check if you need any prescriptions."

You hoped you didn't need any.

"Do not worry, life may seem pointless, but the reason we are here is to live the life we'd like before time runs out."

"But then there's no point to it if you didn't care to make a life."

"Those kind of people are either lazy, depressed, or strict on themselves."

That was funny, considering you were just diagnosed with depression.

"I assume you are not comfortable with me at the moment. This is new to you and you may not want to be here at the moment."

"To be honest, yeah."

"Is there anything you'd like to share with me?"

"No."

"Alright. You may leave. Take this sheet of paper, I will adjust according to your needs."

You took the sheet of paper, scanning over it. You'll fill out next Monday or something.

"Your next session is next Tuesday. Since I'll be here at U.A., you can come visit at precisely twelve o'clock."

"What should I call you?" You asked, a bit curious. She hadn't introduced herself yet.

"Call me the therapist. Or therapist. My identity will be kept hidden for personal reasons."

Why, though? She could see the curious light in your eyes and smiled.

"You'll come to find out why, soon. It all depends on what is it that you want to become."

"You're a bit strange, aren't you, therapist?" You stood from your chair, "I'm not sure what you mean by what it is that I want to become but I'll continue coming to the sessions."

"That's good." She smiled strangely, almost like the Cheshire cat from Alice In Wonderland. You left the room without any other words.

You didn't know how long you'd last with her, but eventually, you'll come to find out her secrets.

The secrets in which she would let you find.
















Walking down the hallway, Katsuki glanced at you coming from the opposite direction. You read the paper in your hand, eyes scanning over the printed letters. He gulped as his hands started to sweat and he got nervous.

The great Bakugo Katsuki was nervous.

If you happened to talk to him, what would he do? How would he respond?

You looked up to look at him. He held his breath as he quickly looked away. You looked back to your paper as if you hadn't seen him.

Katsuki clenched his hands in anger. He brought this on himself but it didn't stop him from being angry at himself and at you. How dare you ignore him?

Well, he asked you to leave him alone. Why did he ask you to leave him alone? Because he was being stupid, that's why.

He growled under his breath as the door to his right opened.

"Oh."

A woman stood there, black hair with a couple of grey strands and mysterious black eyes.  Her gold rimmed glasses shone in the sun. She held a clipboard that had your name on it.

"Good afternoon." She said before moving past him.

"Hey, who are you?" Katsuki demanded.

"I'm a therapist. I'm here for my new patient." She faintly answered. "I'm sorry, I can't reveal anything else due to privacy."

The patient, it must've been you. No shit, you'd be through so much trauma that your hair turned white.

"Whatever." Katsuki turned to stomp away. The woman glared at him, her pupils becoming slits.

Quickly, they turned back to a death black.

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