Chapter Text
Shoto had been forced into therapy once released from hospital after his attempt.
He'd been staying with Aizawa for some time, the man trying to get him back on his feet, he hadn’t been very receptive thus far.
“You have to at least try it Sho, it’s not easy, I’ve been to therapy, so has Zashi, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Aizawa says while they drive to the therapists office.
He sits in the passenger seat with his arms crossed.
“She’s the best therapist that I could find, you’ll be safe,” Aizawa tries.
“I don’t want to go,” he grumbles.
“I know kid, but it’s necessary and your doctors orders, I'd have wanted you to go anyway, I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Aizawa says, looking at him.
“I don’t understand why, I’ve been doing better,” he says with a light sigh.
“And that's good, but there’s things that you need to work through that I don’t have the knowledge to understand or help you with, this can be good for you, but you need to work with her too,”
Shoto has no plans to do that.
And for the first three sessions he doesn’t, he sits it silence, the woman trying to get anything out of him, she almost diagnosis him with selective mutism.
“Shoto, I want to help you, I do, but you need to work with me too, your caregiver brought you here because he loves you, and wants you to get better, and that’s what I'm here to do, so if you won’t do it for yourself, get better for him,” she says, and it makes him think of the man sitting out in the waiting room, the one who hasn’t given up on him, even after finding him in the state he did.
It makes him feel bad, what he did, he hadn’t meant for his classmates to get involved, he hadn’t meant to live.
“Fine,” he says.
“Good, the first thing to this, making it really work, is to admit that you need help, and that's scary and hard,” the woman says, it makes him feel weak the way she says it, like he’s just a child.
“Don’t patronize me,” he says, there’s not much bite to it, he’s too tired for that.
“I’m not, I’m being honest, realizing that you need help is hard, and that’s okay.”
He bites his lower lip, he hates that she’s right.
“Can you tell me a little about yourself, it doesn’t have to be anything big, what’s something you like?”
“Soba, cold,” he says.
“I’m fond of Soba as well, though I prefer mine warm,”
“I don’t like hot things most of the time,” he admits, he’ll certainly eat it, but he prefers his food cold.
“Is there a reason for that?”
“Heat was never kind in my house,” he says.
She gives him a look that he can’t place.
He knows that under his sleeve is a scar from years ago when he got a particularly bad burn when he wasn’t able to dodge on of his father's attack.
“I’m not crazy,” he blurts.
“I don’t think you are Shoto,” she says gently.
“Then why do I have to do this,”
“Because you’re struggling, and that’s okay, lots of people do, and sometimes people come to therapy just to see how to improve themselves,”
He nods, it’s comforting to know that she didn’t believe he was crazy.
As the sessions went on, he opened up, slowly, he didn’t want to say too much and get locked away like his mother.
But he was opening up, and he had to admit, it helped to have someone to talk to.
“During the war, I fought my brother, it caused burns on most of my body, my brother and father died, but when everything stopped, and the dust settled, no one in my family came to check on me, even in the hospital, I was on limited visitation due to the severity of my burns, but I think that’s when things got bad,” he says.
Sarah nods, he’d learned her name on the sixth meeting.
“No one in my family really knew me, I spent most of my time training with my father, I wasn’t allowed to play with my siblings, and I was home schooled, so I didn’t have any friends.” he says, tears picking at his eyes, realizing just how lonely he was, even with his friends.
“Is that when you made your attempt?” Sarah asks, he nods.
“I think that you’ve been so alone for your whole life that you don’t know what love really feels like,” she says gently.
“I thought I did, but after the war, when my family didn’t care that I was hurt, that my classmate had to help me, I realized that they didn’t care, and if my own blood doesn’t love me, why would anyone else,” he admits, even with the tears running down his face.
“I’m so proud of you Shoto, this is a big step in healing, knowing what the cause of some of this was will help me make a recovery plan.”
“This has helped me a lot Sarah, I feel better, I even talked to Aizawa the other day.”
“What about?”
“This, how it’s helped me, made me a lot healthier, there are still hard days, but they’re lesser,” he says, his eyes still show the bone deep exhaustion that comes with fighting to stay alive every waking minute, but he’s got some life back in him.
“I’m glad this has been helping, you’ve been a good client, I know that none of this has been easy, and you’ve been handed a bad set of cards in life, but you’re fighting to stay alive, and that’s the amazing part, you’re doing the work here Shoto I'm just alone for the ride,” she says with a smile, she’s proud of the boy in front of her.
“I think I'm ready to admit something,” he says, voice shaking.
“what’s that Shoto?” Sarah asks.
“That I needed help, that I'm not doing this for Aizawa anymore, I'm doing it for me as well, I don’t want to be like this forever,” he says, looking at his scarred hands.
“And I'm so proud of you for saying that, you just made the biggest step,” she says smiling as well.