Sitting across from Aizawa in the dimly lit counseling room, I felt an unsettling mix of unease and exhaustion wash over me. The last few days had been a whirlwind of emotions, nightmares, and difficult conversations. And now, here I was, facing yet another challenge-this time in the form of Shoto Aizawa, better known as Eraser Head. He had a reputation for being blunt, no-nonsense, and incredibly perceptive. The kind of person who could see right through any facade you put up. I was nervous, to say the least.

Aizawa sat in his chair, his eyes half-lidded in that usual, almost lazy way of his. But I knew better; behind that sleepy expression was a mind that was constantly analyzing, constantly evaluating. He reached into his bag and pulled out a thick file, dropping it on the desk between us with a soft thud.

My eyes darted to the file, a sense of dread creeping in.

Izuku:What's that?

I asked, unable to hide the anxiety in my voice.

Aizawa didn't look up immediately. Instead, he flipped open the file, his eyes scanning the pages within. "This," he said flatly,

Aizawa:is your file. It contains a detailed account of all your possible mental health issues, provided to us by the hospital.

I swallowed hard. I had known that something like this was coming, but seeing the actual file-thick with pages of reports, diagnoses, and observations-made it all too real.

Izuku:all my... mental issues?

I echoed, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aizawa nodded, his eyes finally meeting mine. There was no judgment in them, just an unwavering seriousness.

Aizawa:Yes, all of them

he confirmed.

Aizawa:The hospital didn't leave anything out.

I could feel my hands trembling slightly, and I clenched them into fists to stop the shaking.

Izuku:How bad is it?

I asked, though a part of me didn't want to know the answer.

He didn't sugarcoat it. Aizawa never did. "It's extensive," he replied.

Aizawa:But that's why we're here-to address these issues, to help you understand them, and hopefully, to help you manage them.

I felt my heart sink at the word "extensive." I had always known that I wasn't okay, but hearing it confirmed like this, knowing that there were pages upon pages detailing just how broken I was... it was overwhelming.

Izuku:What... what does it say?

I asked, bracing myself for the worst.

Aizawa sighed softly, flipping through the pages as he began to list off the diagnoses.

Aizawa:Let's start with the obvious. PTSD-Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. That's a given, considering everything you've been through. The hospital reports indicate that you experience frequent flashbacks, nightmares, and episodes of severe anxiety related to your time in captivity.

I winced, remembering the vivid nightmares that still haunted my sleep, the way I'd wake up drenched in sweat, my heart pounding as if I were still trapped in that facility.

Izuku:Yeah... that sounds about right

I muttered, my voice heavy with resignation.

Aizawa continued, his tone steady and clinical.

Aizawa:There's also evidence of C-PTSD-Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. This is a result of prolonged trauma, and it manifests in more pervasive ways. It's not just about the nightmares or flashbacks; it's about how you interact with the world, how you relate to yourself and others. You've developed deep-seated feelings of worthlessness, shame, and guilt. You've become hypervigilant, always on edge, constantly expecting danger or betrayal.

I bit my lip, trying to keep my emotions in check. Every word he spoke felt like a knife digging deeper into the wounds I had tried so hard to ignore.

Izuku:I... I didn't know it had a name

I admitted quietly.

Izuku:I just thought... that was normal for me.

"For the fact, seeing how you're own fractured mind as something normal just shows how bad and terrible his mind his"

Aizawa thought inwardly

Aizawa shook his head.

Aizawa:It's not normal, Izuku. It's a result of the trauma you've endured. And it's something that needs to be addressed, or it will continue to affect every aspect of your life.

I nodded numbly, unable to find the words to respond. The weight of what he was saying was suffocating, but I knew he was right. I couldn't keep ignoring it, pretending that I was okay when I clearly wasn't.

He flipped to another page, his expression growing more somber.

Aizawa:There's also Major Depressive Disorder. The hospital noted that you've exhibited symptoms of this for a long time, possibly even before the events that led to your captivity. It's characterized by persistent feelings of sadness, hopelessness, and a lack of interest in activities you once enjoyed. You've also shown signs of suicidal ideation.

The mention of suicidal thoughts made my breath hitch. I had tried to keep those dark thoughts at bay, but there were times-especially during the worst of it-when I had wondered if it would just be easier to... stop I tired but unfortunately I'll easily Regenerate from it even the time I once set myself on fire once. To let it all end. I didn't want to admit it, but hearing Aizawa say it out loud made it impossible to deny.

Izuku: I never... I mean, I didn't think it was that bad

I whispered, my voice trembling.

Aizawa's gaze softened slightly, though his tone remained firm.

Aizawa:It's understandable, given everything you've been through. But it's important that you recognize these feelings for what they are and that you get the help you need to manage them.

I nodded, though the idea of opening up about those thoughts, of exposing that level of vulnerability, terrified me. But I knew I couldn't keep running from it, not if I wanted to survive.

Izuku:What else is there? I asked, dreading the answer.

He flipped to another section of the file.

Aizawa:There's also evidence of Dissociative Symptoms. The hospital noted that you've experienced moments of feeling disconnected from yourself or your surroundings, almost as if you were watching everything from outside your body. This is a common response to severe trauma, especially when the mind is trying to protect itself from overwhelming stress.

I nodded slowly, the memories of those dissociative episodes coming to the forefront of my mind. There were times when I felt like I was floating above everything, watching as if it were all happening to someone else. It was both a relief and a curse, a way to escape the pain but also a reminder of just how broken I had become.

Izuku:Yeah... I've felt that

I admitted, my voice hollow.

Aizawa continued, his voice steady.

Aizawa:There's also Anxiety Disorder. The hospital reports indicate that you experience frequent panic attacks, often triggered by memories of your trauma or by situations that remind you of your captivity. You've also developed agoraphobia, a fear of being in situations where you feel trapped or unable to escape. This has led to you avoiding certain places or situations, further isolating yourself.

Maybe that's why I preferred living in the sewer

I felt a lump form in my throat. The panic attacks had been some of the worst moments, the way my chest would tighten, my breathing would become erratic, and I'd feel like the walls were closing in on me. It was a suffocating, paralyzing fear that left me feeling powerless and ashamed

Izuku:I... I didn't know how to make it stop

I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Aizawa nodded, his expression understanding.

Aizawa:That's why we're here, Izuku. To help you understand what's happening to you and to give you the tools to manage it.

I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, the weight of everything I was hearing pressing down on me.

Izuku:is there more?

I asked, though I wasn't sure if I could handle hearing any more.

Aizawa hesitated for a moment before nodding.

Aizawa:There is. The hospital also noted signs of Hypervigilance and Paranoia. You've become overly cautious, always on guard, constantly expecting danger even in safe situations. This has led to trust issues, making it difficult for you to form or maintain relationships. You've also shown signs of anger management issues, particularly when you feel threatened or cornered.

I clenched my fists, the words hitting a little too close to home. I had always prided myself on being able to stay calm under pressure, but there were times when I felt like a ticking time bomb, ready to explode at the slightest provocation. And the trust issues... well, those had become a constant in my life.

Izuku:I guess that explains why I've pushed so many people away

I muttered, feeling a pang of guilt.

Aizawa's voice was calm but firm.

Aizawa:It's a defense mechanism, Izuku. You've been hurt so many times that you've built up walls to protect yourself. But those walls are also keeping people out, people who want to help you.

I nodded, knowing he was right but still feeling conflicted. Letting people in was risky, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to take that risk.

Izuku:is there anything else?

I asked, though part of me was hoping that we were finally done.

Aizawa flipped to the last section of the file, his expression serious.

Aizawa:there's also evidence of Survivor's Guilt. The hospital noted that you've shown signs of feeling responsible for the deaths or suffering of others, even when it wasn't your fault. This has led to feelings of unworthiness, self-blame, and a belief that you don't deserve to be happy or safe.

I felt my chest tighten at the mention of Survivor's Guilt. The memories of all the people I couldn't save, subject 11 and 12

Obviously they were others what happened to them what if I could have saved them

What about the lives I couldn't protect as nemesis, am I that much of a failure, maybe becoming nemesis was a huge mistake what if...the mistake is me

all the lives lost because I wasn't strong enough, came flooding back. It was a burden I had carried with me for so long, onethat had become a part of me. The faces of those I couldn't protect, their last screams before I could even saved them, the blood-they haunted me, constantly reminding me of my failures. Even now, sitting in this room, I could feel their weight pressing down on me, suffocating me.

I looked down at my hands, noticing how they trembled slightly.

Izuku:I... I've always felt like it was my fault

I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Izuku:Like, if I had been stronger, faster, better, then maybe... maybe they wouldn't have died. Maybe they would still be here.

Aizawa's gaze softened slightly, but his voice remained firm.

Aizawa:Izuku, you can't carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You're not responsible for every bad thing that happens. You did your best with the information and abilities you had at the time. Blaming yourself for things outside of your control will only eat you alive.

His words made sense, but the guilt was so ingrained in me that it was hard to let go.

Izuku:But it feels like I should have done more
I said, my voice cracking.

Izuku: I know I did everything I could, but it never feels like enough. How can I just... let that go?

Aizawa leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving mine.

Aizawa:It's not about letting it go, Izuku. It's about accepting that you're human, that you have limits. The fact that you feel this guilt shows that you care deeply, that you want to make a difference. But if you let it consume you, you'll lose yourself in the process.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself.

Izuku:So what do I do?

I asked, feeling lost.

Izuku:How do I stop this... this cycle of guilt and self-blame?

Aizawa leaned back in his chair, his gaze thoughtful.

Aizawa:It won't be easy. It will take time and effort. You'll need to work through these feelings, possibly with the help of a therapist. You'll need to confront your trauma, to understand it, and to find a way to live with it. But the first step is acknowledging that you can't do this alone. You need help, and that's okay.

The idea of therapy had always felt daunting to me, like admitting I was too weak to handle things on my own. But sitting here, hearing Aizawa lay everything out so plainly, I realized that I was already at my breaking point. I couldn't keep doing this to myself, couldn't keep pretending that I was fine when I was anything but.

Izuku:Do you think... do you think I can get better?

I asked, the vulnerability in my voice surprising even me.

Aizawa looked at me with a rare softness in his eyes.

Aizawa:I think you have the potential to heal, Izuku. But it's going to be a long, hard road. You're going to have to face some very dark parts of yourself, and you're going to have to be willing to accept help from those who care about you. But if you're willing to do that, then yes, I think you can get better.

His words brought a sense of relief, but also a deep-seated fear. The thought of opening up, of letting people in, was terrifying. But the alternative-continuing down the path I was on-was even worse.

Izuku:I don't know if I can do this

I admitted, my voice shaking.

Izuku:I don't know if I'm strong enough.

Aizawa's expression remained serious, but there was a hint of encouragement in his tone.

Aizawa:Strength isn't just about physical power or how many battles you win. It's about having the courage to face your fears, to confront your demons, even when it scares the hell out of you. You've already shown incredible strength by surviving everything you've been through. Now, it's time to show that strength in a different way.

I nodded, though the fear still lingered.

Izuku:But... what if I fail? What if I can't handle it?

Aizawa didn't hesitate.

Aizawa:Then you get back up and try again. Healing isn't a linear process. There will be setbacks, there will be times when you feel like you're not making any progress. But every step forward, no matter how small, is still progress. And you're not alone in this, Izuku. You have people who care about you, who want to see you succeed.

His words were a lifeline, something to hold onto in the midst of the storm that raged inside me. "I... I'll try," I said, though my voice was still uncertain.

"Judging from what I've seen from his expression, he has a fear of hearing about his own mental health I don't even know what to call it, I have to strictly monitor him just to be sure"

Aizawa thought Inwardly

Aizawa nodded, a small sign of approval.

Aizawa:That's all anyone can ask for. Take it one day at a time. And remember, you don't have to do this alone.

I looked down at the file on the table, the weight of it no longer feeling quite as suffocating. "Thank you," I said quietly.

Izuku:For everything.

Aizawa stood up, gathering the file in his hands.

Aizawa:We'll be checking in regularly

he said, his tone returning to its usual business-like demeanor.

Aizawa:And if you ever need to talk, don't hesitate to reach out. We're here to help.

I nodded, feeling a strange mix of hope and fear. The road ahead was uncertain, filled with challenges I wasn't sure I could overcome. But for the first time in a long while, I felt like maybe, just maybe, there was a way forward.

As Aizawa turned to leave, I found myself speaking up, my voice still trembling but more resolved than before.

Izuku:I don't want to be defined by my past

I said, my gaze steady on his retreating form.

Izuku:I want to find a way to move forward. I want to be someone... who can be proud of who they are.

Aizawa paused at the door, turning to give me a rare, approving nod.

Aizawa:Then that's where you start

he said simply.

Aizawa:One step at a time.

With that, he left the room, the door closing softly behind him. I sat there for a moment, the silence almost comforting in its familiarity. The weight of the file, the weight of everything I had been carrying, still lingered, but there was a new resolve within me. I didn't know what the future held, but I knew that I couldn't keep living like this.

I had to find a way to heal, to move forward, even if it was the hardest thing I had ever done.

And maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to be at peace with myself.