A/N: The introduction to Izuku's therapist! He won't be a super present character, but he is important.

The office that he sat in was small, yet cozy - a desk at the opposite wall with a chair and laptop, and a few framed photos on the desk, two large windows on either side of the desk as well as another on the connecting left wall. There was a cushy-looking beige couch before the desk, as well as a small, boxy end table on the right of it, and a small, round black rug between the desk and couch and went well with the white walls and gray tile.

Izuku felt too small sitting on the couch with his hands fidgeting in his lap, looking at the floor as his new therapist had yet to arrive.

The clock on the wall ticked on silently, the quiet of the room almost unnerving with how still it was.

He sighed, shuffling his feet a little.

Finally the door opened and a tall man entered, reading glasses perched on his nose as he scanned his papers. His ash-blond hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, bangs framing his slim, peachy face, and his eyes, as he looked up, were a light jade-green color that seemed to make the tension in his shoulders melt away a little more just by looking into them.

He smiled, shutting the door. "Ah, Midoriya-san. Right on time."

He bowed slightly at the waist before holding a hand out to shake. "My name is Annei Tamon, and I'll be your therapist. It's good to meet you; I've heard great things."

"Thank you," Izuku replied, grasping his hand. It was thin, yet his grip was sure, and his handshake firm.

"Alright." Scanning the papers once more, he moved away and the boy found it a little easier to breathe. His shoulders minutely relaxed as the man sat behind the desk and set the papers down, instead choosing to rest his elbows on the surface and lean in with his chin atop his interlaced fingers.

"So," he began. "Tell me about yourself. I find that it's easier to talk about the troublesome things when you get the easy ones out in the open. What kinds of foods do you like? Any hobbies?"

"Well…" the greenet began, almost unsure as he fidgeted with his hands, "I like katsudon a lot. My mom always makes it for special occasions. And… I guess I like working out? I wouldn't call it a hobby as much as it is…" he trailed off, shaking his head before letting out a quiet breath and starting again. "Well, anyway, um… I like… research."

"Research, huh?" Tamon perked up at that, smiling. "What kinds of things do you read about? Or is it just whatever fascinates you?"

"Something like that," he answered with a shrug. He averted his gaze, finding it suddenly hard to look the therapist in his own.

"It's always nice to hear that someone your age likes to learn things." He continued. "Studious. What's the most interesting thing you've learned about?"

"Um… uh…" He racked his brain. What was the most interesting thing he'd learned? He didn't exactly want to rattle off facts on the Number Ten hero, nor did he want to say something lame. What would be satisfactory? "That… um… that certain Quirks…"

He trailed off and hung his head for a moment. That wasn't a good topic either. He could already feel his heart beating faster as the familiar rush of panic began to flow through his chest.

Thankfully, the therapist seemed to understand and nodded, instead saying, "Why don't we talk about your mother? She sounds like a lovely lady."

Izuku forced himself to breathe slowly despite his brain racing. Nodding, he took another deep breath before answering. "Y- yeah, she's really good to me. She's a great mom."

"How have you both been handling your move away from Musutafu?" He inquired gently. "That's quite the distance from here."

"It's…" great, he wanted to answer. Instead the word died on his tongue and he swallowed the corpse.

Tamon studied him for several seconds before commenting, "It's okay to not be okay, Izuku. You don't have to force yourself to lie. You can tell me how you're really feeling."

"But I don't… I don't know how I'm feeling," he admitted quietly, squeezing his hands together.

"That's okay too." He nodded slowly, leaning back in the chair. His arms dropped below the table and his ankles crossed. "That's what I'm here for. I'm here to help you figure out how you're feeling."

"I'm…" fine? He wanted to say. I don't need help, I've got this covered? Neither of those sounded completely right. He wanted to rebut, but he could say nothing that he felt confident saying out loud.

He must have sensed this indecision, because the blond man just smiled reassuringly.

"I'm… conflicted," Izuku finally admitted, and the words seemed to lift off of his shoulders. "I mean, I didn't… my dad wasn't around for pretty much my entire childhood. I barely remember what he looked like before he left."

"And… and now he just shows up… and for what?" He shook his head, staring at his fists. The scars wrapping around the fingers on his right seemed to give a phantom ache, as if suddenly reminding him of what he'd gone through the past year. "I know my mom is hurting, but no matter what I do, I just can't seem to make it better. I've… never felt such hate in my heart for anyone before."

"You don't seem like the hateful type," Tamon observed. "This hatred you're feeling is conflicting with the type of person you are, and it's poisoning you."

"Y… yeah," he breathed, looking up. "That… makes sense. I don't like hating."

"Hatred is… a difficult emotion." The therapist hummed in thought. "A natural human response to prolonged pain and suffering, yet it's also the most volatile. Hatred has caused wars; it's caused so much more suffering than the amount that birthed it, and yet it's one of the hardest feelings to let go of. It's like it anchors itself in your soul and feeds off of everything that makes you."

"Like a poisonous plant," Izuku quietly recalled hearing once.

"Exactly." Tamon nodded. "And this hate… you've recently begun feeling this? Or has this always been there?"

"I've never been… that angry before," he admitted. "I mean… when Kacchan used to beat me up I was scared, but never angry . And when I fought villains I would feel serious in the moment, probably annoyed, or angry," like at Chisaki, his brain reminded, souring his mood further, "but never like this."

"But you know what anger feels like."

"Of course."

"How do you remember feeling when your father left?"

He sucked in a breath. "It's blurry."

"Were you sad… were you confused…?"

"I… don't remember much." He paused, narrowing his eyes as he looked at the floor. "Lonely."

"And this loneliness… did it persist as you grew up?"

"No, I don't think so." He shook his head. "I mean, I forgot that I even had a dad for a while. Other kids would tease me about it, but I didn't… feel sad about it, I guess. I just felt empty. Like yeah, so what? At least I learned to move on."

Tamon leaned forward again, his kindly eyes seeming to pierce right through him even as they sat. "Did you?"

"Did I what?"

"Move on."

He opened his mouth to reply, but shut it and stared at his hands.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he continued, watching as the boy's wide eyes fixated on his scarred fingers, "but I don't think you ever really did. I think you internalized the sadness and loneliness you felt when he left and pushed them away so that they wouldn't have to affect you anymore. I believe that this hate you feel for your father… you never let go. And that loneliness and sadness festered deep in your heart until it had nowhere else to go but out."

Izuku stayed quiet, processing his words.

"Your lack of a social sphere of peers only exacerbated that hate," Tamon explained, adjusting his glasses. "And because you saw how much it hurt your mother, you locked it away. Because you didn't want to be the one to tip her over the edge."

"I… I just…" he quietly began.

"When you were diagnosed as Quirkless," the therapist interrupted, "and your father left… how did you feel? Were you sad? Were you angry?"

"I… lost my hope."

"So you tried to push it down and tried to forget about it so that you could continue to dream."

"I didn't want to hurt anyone else." Izuku's voice cracked.

Tamon's eyes softened. "So you believe it was your fault that you were told you were Quirkless."

"No, I…" He protested, looking up. "I… I just…"

"Genetics aside, while it is true that your generation could see the very last children born without a Quirk, it's hardly your fault you were brought into this world the way you were."

Izuku shook his head. "I don't blame myself, but…"

"Do you blame your mother?"

"Of course not!" His voice raised momentarily, and he blinked before sitting back down, a thin coat of shame settling in his chest as he continued, "Of course I don't. I don't blame anybody. If not me, it could have been someone else."

"Yet it still weighs heavily on your mind," Tamon observed. "'If only I hadn't been born this way, maybe things would have been better for my family.' 'If only this hadn't happened, then maybe my dad wouldn't have left.' Is that the gist of it?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it and looked away.

"You're too selfless, Izuku." He sighed with a shake of his head. "You're always putting everyone else's wellbeing ahead of your own."

"Isn't that just decency?" He questioned, looking back towards the man in confusion. "If you don't help someone else, what are you really doing?"

"That's not what I'm getting at, Izuku." The blond's voice was gentle as he asked, "Who told you that you were worth so much less than everyone else?"

The words burned themselves into his brain. He didn't want to think about it.

"Who told you that you needed to push yourself down so that nobody else would trip over you?" Tamon continued, voice so full of sympathy it was hard to look him in the eye as pure shame filled his heart. "Because that person is a liar, Izuku. I need you to believe me when I say that person has lied to you."

"He wouldn't…" he tried to defend. "He was just trying to…"

"Whoever he is, I can guarantee you that he is not worth hanging on to this guilt." The therapist leaned forward, and Izuku felt as if a force field was pushing him back against the couch as he slumped back into the soft leather. "Izuku, being selfless is a virtue - it always has been - but when it becomes you handicapping yourself so that others can use you as a stepping stool… it's not healthy to hold yourself to such a high standard compared to everyone else. You need to allow yourself to rise."

"But if I do that," he argued quietly, eyes misting with tears, "it won't be fair to anyone else."

"Unfair how?" He questioned. "Because when I look at you, I see a determined young man who was born being told he couldn't amount to anything - and look what he's done. You've made something of yourself. You've been on TV all across Japan. You've personally helped defeat one of the most feared yakuza in the country. You're a hero, Izuku - repeat after me: I am a hero."

"I…"

"I am a hero."

"I… am a hero."

"I need you to tell yourself that," Tamon instructed. "Every single time you begin to doubt yourself, every single time you tell yourself that your own feelings don't matter, that you don't matter - I need you to remind yourself of who you are. Of what you are. You are worth it. You are a hero."

He sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. "But what if I still don't believe it?"

"You will," he insisted, voice soft with fondness as he stood from his desk. "And if you still find yourself falling short - if you still can't bring yourself to believe it - I'll be happy to back you up. You know my good friend, Inoue-san?"

"Mm-hm?" He accepted the tissue that the man offered as he squatted down before the couch, dabbing the corners of his eyes.

"When she saw you at the Sports Festival this year, her eyes just lit up." He smiled fondly at the memory. "All she could say was 'look at this kid, guys, look at this kid. Look at him go.' She was your biggest cheerleader."

"She… watched me?"

"Every second you were on screen." He confirmed. "She saw the hero she's always wanted to be. She saw you and she saw hope. It doesn't matter if you got a Quirk late or if you never got one to begin with - you rising so far above your beginnings is such an inspiration to those of us who never got to experience that."

"I can't even handle this Quirk."

"I couldn't either," he admitted. "And neither could Inoue-san. There are lots of people who had the same power incontinence that you have at your age. But that's the beauty of it. You will grow. You will learn to harness the full extent of your power. You have hundreds, if not thousands of people who believe in you, Izuku - it's time you start believing in you, too."

He could not answer, even as he looked at the kindly man and sniffled.

"I am a hero." Tamon said slowly, reaching out to grasp his hand.

"I am a hero," he recited quietly.

Deep inside, there came a thrum of warmth, as if those words felt right. It almost felt as if One For All itself was repeating them too, a feeling of safety and comfort caressing his frazzled mind like a warm blanket.

Maybe in time he could say those words with confidence. But for now, this was a start.

Step by step, perhaps he could learn to love the parts of himself that remained broken.

A/N: When I was first writing this I really didn't expect it to get so deep already. Whoops~

Please tell me what you thought!