MHA Fanfiction: Inbound

Can I Keep Going Like This?

Iylla's POV

"You seem on edge?" The man sitting across from me said, tapping his pen against his notepad as he had for the last ten minutes. "Is there anything, in particular, that's making you nervous, Miss Aizawa?"

"I'm fine," I mumbled, regretting the decision to let Tenya find me a therapist. 

"Oh? Then tell me, why are you here?"

I glanced behind the man, staring out the window. Last night, I had a total meltdown in Tenya's room. I cried in his arms for hours, and nothing he or I did could stop the destructive shaking. He tried, but Tenya couldn't calm me down, so instead, he settled for holding me until I came back to myself. 

That's why I was here.

After last night, Tenya basically begged me to get professional help. I argued with him almost all night long, but eventually, I gave in. I threw myself into his bed, piling the covers on top of me. Tenya stayed up for a while longer, researching the best therapists in town. When we woke this morning, he called every number he found the night before, asking if anybody had time to see me today.

That's why I was trapped in this brown leather seat, desperately wishing I could go back to the Iylla I was before getting kidnapped. I wanted to be the person who was so sure of herself that her confidence shone so bright and put the sun to shame.

I wanted to feel strong again.

I looked down at the nameplate on the man's desk. It read Dr. Barry Larson.

Oh, that's right. Tenya told me earlier, didn't he?

When I didn't speak, Barry took the opportunity for himself.

"I see." Barry brushed his light blue hair to the side, biting his lip. "Well, if you don't want to jump right into it, then, I suppose, you could start by telling me a little bit about you."

"Does that matter?" I asked, bitter that I was even here.

"I don't know," He held up his hands, offering an easy smile. "Do you think you matter?"

The usual wall around my heart tightened, fortifying itself against potential harm. The question presented to me was a loaded one. If I answered affirmatively, Barry would likely ask me why I thought so. If I said no, I would discredit what I said earlier about being fine. 

"I guess not so much these days," I told him, clinging to old ideals out of stubborn pride.

Barry nodded passively, taking notes. The quiet in the room was heavy and tense, almost as if it was waiting for someone to come and smash it to bits. 

"Well, thank you for your honesty; that is more than what most people do in a first session."

"Isn't that the point of this crap?" Anger boiled within me, and I couldn't hide it as I often did. "I spill my guts to some stranger with a degree, and he fixes me?"

"If that's what you think therapy is, then I don't think you know what therapy really is." He smiled through the glare I sent his way, making him look so youthful and carefree that it pissed me off. "I can't fix you."

"Then why am I paying so much freaking money to see you?"

"You're not broken, Miss Aizawa," He said plainly, ignoring the question, at least for the time being. "I've seen broken before, and you're not. You're a little bit bent out of shape; twisted, if you will. You've been through quite a lot in such a short amount of time, but you're still functioning. You're still here, striving to be better. It doesn't matter if the only reason you're here is because of the man waiting in my lobby. You only need one reason to make you matter to you again, and any reason is as good as any other. Again, I've seen broken before, and I can tell you you're not, but you are heading down that path. Miss Aizawa, I'm only here to give you the tools to prevent breakdowns like the one that happened last night. I'm only here to help you heal the disconnect in your mind. I'm only here to teach you how to help yourself, and things would go a lot smoother if I knew you a little better. So, why don't you tell me about yourself?"