Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He’d been seeing Hound Dog for weeks now, and it was the same thing every time.

Sat on a too-stiff couch, refusing to speak, weighed down with too many secrets to even try.

He felt guilty for giving the man across from him the cold shoulder, especially with how patient he had been these last trying weeks, but that patience was wearing thin based on the defeated expression he wore.

“Izuku, we can’t keep doing this,” Hound Dog huffed out.

He really did like Hound Dog, he was just shock-full of too many secrets, some that weren’t his own to tell, not really.

Admittedly, there was good reason to mandate these appointments in the first place.

He thought it would just be attributed to his usual distracted nature, but apparently, spacing out for extended periods of time was cause for concern.

Dissociation.

Aizawa Sensei was nice about it, as nice as a man like him could be, and pried very little other than to demand he see Hound Dog until he was given the all clear to be free of the sessions completely.

But at the rate they were going, he couldn’t say that was going to be any time soon.

At the beginning, his muteness had seemed like a good idea. He was a terrible liar, and he wouldn’t have to if he didn’t say anything at all.

As Hound Dog rubbed at his face in exasperation, he almost felt the urge to spill it all. He couldn’t, though, not with the oath he’d made to All Might.

“I’m assigning you to a new caseworker.”

What, a new caseworker? From his extensive knowledge of UA staff and its departments, Hound Dog was the only counselor UA employed.

He turned curious eyes to Hound Dog, tilting his head in silent question.

“Only you, pup, I don’t think we’ve had a student in years that warranted reassignment. He doesn’t get involved much, not when he doesn’t have to.”

So a man, who deals with difficult cases like his not that he was exactly proud of that fact.

“I really wish we could have made this work, but you’ll be in good hands, this isn’t a punishment, Izuku, we’re just concerned. I’ve set you up for meetings with him on Tuesdays, room 502.” Hound Dog informed with an almost sad expression, once again, his guilt seemed to pick up.

“Good luck, pup.”

He smiled at the man in thanks, hoping it translated.

Whoever was in room 502 was sure to be different, maybe someone harsher, maybe someone who was just more abstract, but he suspected they would be much different than Hound Dog when it came to helping him. Specializing in something Hound Dog couldn’t do for the man was so intent on helping him, he doubted he would let him go otherwise.

***

As substantial as his knowledge of UA was, he had somehow managed to forget who exactly worked out of room 502 until he was standing just in front.

He felt anxiety curl in his gut, thoughts of fleeing, escaping, running through his head as his body anxiously thrummed.

With too much time in his head and not enough courage to knock on the stubbornly closed door, he twisted on his heel, intent on slipping away before anyone could force him inside.

Back turned and the figure behind him entirely too skilled to be detected if he didn’t want to be, he startled at the weight of a leather palm meeting his shoulder, “Midoriya, sorry for the wait, you weren’t thinking of splittin’, were you?”

He tried to shake his head in denial, but came to a stop as the man leveled him with a look that very clearly showed his disbelief in that reply.

He couldn’t manage much after that, except for an embarrassed blush as the man ushered him into the empty classroom, two chairs pulled out from their usual place, instead sat next to the teaching podium.

“Take a seat, Midoriya! Hound Dog said you’ve taken a vow of silence towards him, and as much as we can respect your decision not to speak, you still need help, ya dig? Even if you can’t talk out your issues (which would be enormously helpful if you’d give it a shot), we can still give your mind a break, an opportunity to be unburdened even with your refusal to work through the root cause.” Mic informed, somewhat ominously.

“I’m not going to talk about my issues..” He replied, trying to sound firm but it coming out shaky, betraying his anxiety over the matter.

“That’s totally okay, listener, we don’t have to, that’s not my specialty anyway. But you certainly could tell me anything. That’s why I’m here, to be your support, to unburden your anxious little head, alright?” Mic soothed, in a soft, serious voice, softer and more serious than he’d ever heard from the man anyway.

The tone of it made a ball of different emotions twist in his gut.

He was intrigued by Mic’s demeanor, different than his hero persona or even his teaching one.

With the change in his teacher, he couldn’t help but wonder what exactly his specialty was and why he was taking this so seriously, every interaction so far laced with a grimness.

Somewhat uncomfortable, he avoided the man’s lime green gaze, “You can’t help me, whatever your specialty is, it won’t work.”

It was better to push him away now, to keep his secrets firmly locked down and to discourage anyone kind enough to seek them out.

To discourage them from helping him.

“Why’s that, Midoriya? Why do you think you’re beyond help? Don’t you think you deserve to get help, to be happy?
This will all go so much smoother if you show a little effort, as it is, you’re on a thin line, we can’t have mentally unstable teenagers in the hero course, no matter how powerful they are.”

Well, that explains why there was a grim tone to everything; he was on the cusp of expulsion.

As much as he had to respect the secret of one for all, he couldn’t be expelled completely, he had to stay in the hero course for All Might and for him.

For the him that was weak, naive, and so unbelievably hopeful, who had somehow accomplished a seemingly impossible dream, he didn’t think he could handle his spirit being crushed if the rug was somehow pulled out from under him.

“I- I want to be a hero… I will try whatever this is.” He settled on, willing to make some modicum of effort in the hopes that he would keep his spot in 1-A.

Mic studied him, as if analyzing how committed he really was to the unknown therapy, and with an abrupt clap of his hands his demeanor changed, bubbly and almost excited.

“I'm so glad you’re seeing it my way! Alright then, why don’t you follow me to my office?” his teacher exclaimed, opening the adjacent door to the classroom. A room he was aware of but never had the need to enter.

With a hesitant gait, he followed the exuberant man to the attached office, confusion curling in his gut at the array of childish items laid out on a plush rug.

He glanced at his teacher's face to gauge the seriousness of the man, hoping his teacher was joking.

“I- I don’t understand,” he confessed, Mic’s expression never changing, a small smile stubbornly glued to his face.

“What’s there to understand, sweetheart? I already told you this is about taking a break, letting go!”

As happy as he was that Mic had taken on his more familiar characteristics, the pet name was oddly placed, different from his usual ones.

This whole situation was odd.

“What does that have to do with children’s toys?” He asked in disbelief, slowly backing away to the now closed door that Mic was leaning against.

His teacher clasped his shoulder as he backed into him, pushing him towards the rug where they both sat, “ This is it, this is the therapy. A break, maybe one of a variety you haven’t indulged in for a while, but helpful nonetheless,” Yamada informed his lanky frame, seemingly odd, sat on the rug beside him, he often forgot how imposing the man was with his height.

“I don’t need to play with toys, I’m not a child!” He muttered, feeling somewhat remorseful for his negativity so far, but at this point any one in charge of his mental health wasn’t under the illusion that his enthusiastic hero mask was real, not completely.

“Let me stop you there, listener, I thought we came to an understanding that a little effort was needed on your behalf to stay in the hero course. Would you rather drop it completely, be unburdened entirely, because that’s the point we’re at. So, a little mental break with me once a week or a break of a more permanent variety, what are you choosing?” Mic interjected, a sternness that made him feel all the more nervous, small even.

He was right, though; he had shown his willingness to participate for the sake of staying in 1A, and that wasn’t a lie, even with the odd request being made of him for the sake of his mental stability.

“… I don’t know how, though, I don’t know what you want,” he confessed, his willingness not getting rid of the fact that this was unfamiliar, unfamiliar to him now at this age, that is.

“Listener, this isn’t about what I want, it’s to help you, and I know right now you’re doing this for the sake of being a hero. And yes, I know that’s the only reason you haven’t fled, or shut down like with Inui, but this is for you.”

He hummed in reply, not willingly to admit he really was just trying because of the threat of expulsion.

“But if you’re having trouble playing, I’m of course here to help,” Mic continued, pulling over one of the bins of toys that had been pushed to the side of the rug.

He peered inside after the lid was popped off by his teacher, surprised to find a decidedly expensive-looking toy castle; carved out of wood and painted in pastels.

It was nice, nicer than he expected, and definitely nicer than anything he had owned as a child, more akin to something Kacchan would have had, his parents never being short on funds.

It had a drawbridge and three corresponding characters: a princess, a knight, and a dragon.

“Pick one,” Mic said, offering out the carved figures.

For a moment, he froze, the decision so trivial yet so anxiety-inducing as the stress of this session so far crashed down on him.

He was there again, the whole reason this began, melting back into the recesses of his mind, blissfully unaware.

The unawareness was a light haze this time as opposed to its usual thick fog, and it made it all the easier for Mic to pull him out of it, willing or unwilling, as his teacher's voice called him to attention. Softly at first, growing louder, then added was the soft texture of a stuffed toy being pushed into his hands, it had him startled back to awareness.

“Seems like I lost you there, kiddo. Sometimes decisions are too tough. Would you like me to pick one out for you?”

He nodded, uncomfortable, shy. He hadn’t felt this unsure and exposed in a while, stubbornly silent with Hound Dog, unrealistically happy around his peers, but shockingly raw around Mic.

Although that might be a result of his recent bout of dissociation, he always felt off after, like he wanted someone else to take control while he shook off the remnants of the fog.

“How about the knight? I’ll be the ferocious dragon!” Mic said with an enthusiastic lilt to his voice, dropping the wooden knight into his hand.

He was surprised by the man’s ability to act completely unfazed at such childish actions, as he made odd roaring noises as the dragon. It was Yamada Sensei, though, his persona was popular with children, and he could see why as they began their play.

His teacher's easy acceptance of playing wasn’t enough to make him jump in any more sure of himself as he clasped the knight in his shaky hand, it was an odd picture his scarred palms grasping onto the toy, small in his grasp, obviously made for smaller hands than his.

“Save me! Save me,” Mic exclaimed in an awful, high-pitched girlish voice as he batted against the castle with the dragon.

He felt shy as Mic urged him to join, anxiously petting the fur of the stuffed toy in his lap as he considered his next move.

He needed to try..to stay in the hero course.

“I’ll save you, princess,” he interjected shyly, blushing when Mic grinned at him.

“You’ll have to get past me, hero!” Mic teased as the dragon ‘flew’ down from its perch on the castle.

He felt his shoulders sag a bit as he played, invested in the colorful storyline his teacher had come up with, joining the dragon on an exhibition to recover a lost jewel that was really just a marble scrounged up from another toy box. A reveal of the princess being a twist villain who had been the one to hide it all along!

For a second, he forgot to be embarrassed, he forgot to think of much of anything except for playing with toys.

It was nice, different. Not completely removing the weight of one too many secrets, but refueling him, giving him a boost of energy to keep hold. The burden didn’t seem as bad right now.

And so he was startled when Mic gently asked him to start cleaning up.

He blushed the whole time, shuffling awkwardly as the strewn toys were neatly packed away, mortified that he had been completely blind to the mess he was making.

“Good effort, Midoriya! I’ll see you again next Tuesday, does that work? Do you have any questions for me? Do you need anything? Sometimes coming up from these sessions can take an adjustment period, but if you’re right as rain, I’ll let you go,” Yamada sensei informed, with an empathetic look on his face that had him relaxing a bit.

His embarrassment won out in the end, though, as he denied his need for any further contact and hesitantly agreed to the next session as he fled the office, now dreading seeing the man again.

As nice as it all was, it was jarring how unguarded he had been, something he couldn’t afford.

Things were changing, the session had felt odd yet revealing, a part of himself was shifting, so close to clicking into place, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was exactly.

He just knew he couldn’t let that happen.

***

He had been avoiding Yamada Sensei, and oddly enough, he thinks the man is privy to the fact.

Rushing out of classes, dodging him in hallways. The man had definitely taken note.

He couldn’t help it, though, wanting to push down the strangeness of their session, how he liked it despite him knowing he shouldn’t.

He just wasn’t prepared to analyze what it all meant.

Now standing in front of room 502, he wished he were anywhere else.

“Midoriya! Glad you showed up. I was a little worried to be honest with you, kiddo, step in, step in!” Mic said, ushering him in.

He noted the tension that persisted despite Yamada Sensei's over-enthusiasm as he was pushed through the door.

Guilty, that it was his fault.

The door clicked shut as Mic began to speak again, “I owe you an apology. I should have talked with you a bit after our session last week instead of letting you go so soon,” he began.

He was confused, he had denied needing any further contact this was no fault of his teachers.

“Oh, it’s fine..”

“No, it isn’t, and now my relationship with you as not just your caseworker but as your teacher has suffered. Don’t act like you’ve been behaving totally normal this week towards me, because you haven’t. I’ve obviously upset you somehow, I just need you to speak up a little about it, honey. I really should have insisted we have that chat last week, I’m sorry I didn’t but rest assured we’ll have it now,” Mic continued, he felt his face flame up at how obvious his avoidance of the man must have seemed for the immediate confrontation to occur upon him stepping through the door.

He shifted nervously as Yamada took the seat opposite him, alarmed at how fast he seemed to switch between excitement and sobriety.

“I know you’re against talk therapy, but this is an issue between us, nothing more. I need to have you feeling comfortable with me if I’m going to be helping you like this, listener, but I’m more than happy to make accommodations if that just isn’t going to happen.”

He was curious what accommodations could be made in a last resort case like his, but didn’t push, as he tried once again to reassure the man.

“It’s fine, you did nothing wrong, my issue isn’t with you…” He tried to argue, stilling when his teacher's eyes seemed to glint with a usually hidden intelligence.

“What’s really going on then? If you aren’t upset with something I’ve done, then you must be upset with something you’ve done in our past session,” Yamada Sensei reasoned.

“I- I’m embarrassed…” he admitted, continuously surprised at the man’s insight.

“I see, what specifically embarrassed you? From what I recall, you did nothing wrong last week. Not to my understanding, so what do you feel you’ve done wrong?”

“I shouldn’t have… gotten so into playing with toys, it’s embarrassing… It’s inappropriate.”

Yamada Sensei relaxed considerably, shoulders sagging in relief. “ Oh, sweetheart, there’s no reason for you to be embarrassed. I was scared it was something deeper than that,” he confessed.

He warmed at the pet name, squashing down the feeling as Mic continued.

“Midoriya, what we do here is confidential. I’m not going to let slip anything we do during these sessions unless it’s a safety concern, and besides, I remember being quite invested in our game as well. I should have been clearer about the discreet nature of these sessions if you were worried so much.”

He felt a little better, a little more content. Not that all his worries were settled. There was still his concern with how affected he seemed to be last time, but that wasn’t an issue he was inclined to let Mic in on.

He would just silently vow to be less absorbed.

“Again, I apologize for not pushing for us to talk a little more last time, just know that it’s now mandatory that we have a little sit down, alright?” Mic informed, finishing up his tangent.

He nodded in agreement, not that it was really a choice.

“Wonderful, let’s get started!” Mic said, leading him once again to the back office.

This time, artistic increments were scattered across the room, bins of crayons and markers stacked near multicolored paper, tall stacks of coloring books leaning against the wood of his teacher's desk.

He couldn’t help but feel a sliver of excitement writhe around just under his skin at the wide array of art supplies.

Desperately wanting to ignore the feeling, but already he could sense his resolve wavering at the unexpected surprise.

As much as he had played with action figures and the like as a kid, he had always had a fondness for art. It had stuck with him. Childish coloring slipping into amateur sketching and finally refined to be an impressive yet hidden skill, traces of it only in his hero analysis notebooks.

“Go ahead, Listener! Color me a nice picture,” Mic requested, already sitting on the rug.

It was the only push he needed before he started pulling out blank pieces of paper, intent on filling them with his overflowing ideas.

Antsy to draw but still holding onto the dredges of his vow, he decided on staying measured despite his sudden enthusiasm.

He pulled out crayons, sketching the prominent figure of All Might across the page, amused by the novelty of drawing with crayons after so long yet sobered by all the reminders that he associated with his current subject.

It was fun, he couldn’t deny that, but he felt the tiniest bit of pressure as his teacher's eyes kept a careful watch and as he stared at the blue eyes of his mentor, scrawled in crayon. He had to be good, he had to show that he could draw something impressive that he could be impressive.

The pressure to create something perfect, to be something perfect weighed on him.

He squirmed, frustrated as his subject matter and perfectionist tendencies prevented him from enjoying the usually pleasant activity.

“What’s wrong, listener?” Yamada Sensei prodded, a concerned brow raised.“ I can’t… it’s not right…It’s not good enough,” he replied, blue crayon clasped in an almost crushing grip.

He felt his chest heave in an unnatural way, brain so desperately wishing to go to that hazy place but grounded by the tears threatening to leave his eyes.

“Woah, kiddo, you’re taking this too seriously! This is supposed to be relaxing, not a chore,” His teacher soothed.

Mic’s voice was always pleasant, voice quirks tended to have that quality, and right now, it was what he needed to stay in the moment.

“That’s looking pretty rockin’ to me, kiddo, I didn’t know you were such an artist, but maybe that’s why there’s so much pressure, hmm? You’re trying to draw in a more .. refined manner when this is just silly fun. Try drawing like a kid again, listener, maybe even just color, don’t worry about it being perfect, worry about it being fun!” Mic continued, pulling out a coloring page adorned with outlines of cats and dogs.

Maybe he was taking it too seriously, it wouldn’t hurt to let his guard down just a little.

Looking down at the coloring page in front of him, he admired the simplistic print, cartoon kitten eyes staring up at him. Inconsequential; it wasn’t really his art, just an activity for him to complete, an excuse to put random colors on the page that didn’t have to make sense, just for fun.

No pressure.

He was feeling just that slight bit lighter again, unburdened.

He settled back down, feet kicking behind him as he colored on the rug, barely noticing the ever-present gaze of his teacher as the man unobtrusively sat to the side, only taking his eyes off him to jot down the odd note here or there.

This was nice, impulsively grabbing whatever color was prettiest and smearing it on the page in an almost erratic fashion, experimenting with markers next as he colored in patches of fur. He was fully immersed and relaxed, a lightness to himself that had his guard slipping slowly, slowly down.

Further than he had wanted it to.

“Midoriya, honey, marker out of your mouth, please.”

He spluttered as he dropped the marker, embarrassed as his teacher just hummed at him and went back to his notes.

Once again, he had lost himself for a moment, caught up in the lull of soft tranquility that seemed to embrace him during these times in Yamada Sensei’s office.

He was mad at himself; he had sworn not to get too absorbed, and he had faltered, but it wasn’t the end, just a small slip-up… He’d just try harder, crack down on any weirdness slipping through the cracks.

He colored a while longer, pleased to have no more reprimands come from the voice hero, especially with the embarrassing amount of close calls that followed. Hands, markers, pencils floating to his lips before he jerked back to himself. Swerving his head towards Mic to gauge his awareness of his odd new struggle, and relieved when lime green eyes were distracted by the notepad.

“We have about ten more minutes, and I’d like for us to clean up and chat a bit,” Mic interjected into the silence of the room.

He felt a surge of disappointment that the session was already over, but pushed it down, starting to clean up the mess and very carefully keeping his coloring page held close to his chest.

“Have a seat, Midoriya, I’d like to begin with any thoughts or feelings you had about our session today,” his teacher said from across his cluttered desk.

“It was fun…I liked coloring,” he confessed, unsure of himself and unsure if he should admit to his persisting embarrassment.

“Well, that’s wonderful! We’ll be sure to color again then. Is there anything else? I want you to be honest, I wouldn’t want a repeat of last week. So is there anything you didn’t like, something that made you feel maybe not so rockin’?”

“I… I was a little embarrassed that.. that I got too invested in the coloring. I shouldn’t have gotten so distracted and put your art supplies in my mouth. I don’t even know what I was thinking, sir, that’s gross, weird, I’m sorry..” he rushed out, confused at the hero’s amused expression.

Mic chuckled a little, filling him with further shame before a placating hand was placed on his arm. “ Midoriya, you were distracted, you were having fun, it’s not like you did it on purpose, and even if you did, it’s a sign you’re relaxed and that’s the entire point of this! I really didn’t mind, it’s just that marker caps are a choking hazard, honey! I'll try to find something more appropriate given your recent oral fixation. It really is fine,” Mic soothed, making him feel a little better.

“Mm okay Mic Sensei, I’m sorry again..”

Now emboldened due to the man's kindness, he bravely handed him the coloring sheet he had been working on, grimacing a little as he observed how messy it really was but that didn't matter to Mic as he grasped it in his large hands, a bright smile he'd never seen on the man spreading across his face.

in the back of his mind he noted this smile was genuine not fake like the ones the hero usually wore.

"Thank you, honey, it's beautiful!" Mic whispered almost in awe as Midoriya fought down his fiercest blush of the day.

Still smiling, Mic started up again, "If that’s all you needed to get off your chest, let’s move on to scheduling your next session and talking about some possibilities!” He exclaimed, pausing a moment before continuing.

“I’m sure you noticed me cracking away at some paperwork, but I was actually looking into an approval for us to head to a gym in a session or two to play some games that require a little more room, if that was okay with you? I would need to consult with another teacher to gain access just because I’m not in charge of any hero courses, ya dig’?”

He had liked the sessions so far, even with his reservations, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to move this out of the privacy of the very enclosed, very discreet office.

And he wasn’t sure he wanted to risk the possibility of his acting strange to move out of these walls either, it had been isolated to only Mic’s office so far, and he was content to keep it that way, even if he’d rather it not be an issue at all.

One glance at his teacher's eager face was all it took to have him hesitantly agree, secretly hoping it would lead to more addicting kindness from the man, as pathetic as that was.

“Wonderful, I’ll see you next Tuesday, same time, and I’ll try to have a little surprise for you,” Mic whispered with an air of enthusiasm, winking playfully.

As he left the session, he contemplated the war within himself as of late. Wanting desperately to fully immerse himself in the colorful world Mic had laid out for him, just for him and knowing deep down that his reality was what he needed to stay true to, one of secrets and silent responsibility.

He had tasted relaxation, a break from an independence he didn’t know he had taken on until it was too late.

And he wanted more so badly.

Surely All Might wouldn’t know, wouldn’t suspect as long as it stayed locked in the overfilled office of Mic Sensei.

Maybe indulgence wasn’t an impossible wish if he only dared do it there and never anywhere else.

He would see, he had waters to test next session, that was for sure.

***

Chapter Text

Not for the first time he had a mission in mind when entering room 502 and for once it wasn’t to fight against that soft new feeling but rather indulge, at least while the session was in the private sanctuary that was Yamada Sensei’s office.

He needed to understand it better, to prevent it from happening outside of these sessions, and what better way to understand it than to give in to it.

At least while he was here.

“Midoriya! Come on in and head straight to my office, I’ll meet you there in just a sec,” Mic greeted, nudging him towards the open office, now familiar and safe in a way that made stepping right in comfortable, even without his teacher next to him.

There was a stack of books this time, well-loved and worn leaning against a colorful box that was full of blankets and stuffed toys.

He hesitantly plopped down next to the box, hands rummaging through and pausing as he felt a familiar softness in the pile, he hadn’t registered what it was before more than acknowledging it as a weight in his palm, but looking at it now he could tell it was the same stuffed toy Mic had pushed into his hands in that first session weeks ago.

It was small, and the color of it was a dusky brown, now really looking at it he could tell it was a bear and immediately he liked it the most out of all the stuffed toys present. Maybe it was the familiarity or maybe it was the fact Mic had chosen it for him but he felt too bad to place it back into the bin and much more content to hold it in his lap as he waited for his teacher to enter.

“I see you’ve reunited with your friend! I was thinking we could have a chill day snuggled up reading while you use your new present!

“You got me a present?” He questioned, eyes lighting up.

“I told you I’d get you a little surprise last time, so here it is!”

And with that Mic placed a small box in his hand, covered by colorful wrapping paper that made him hesitant to rip apart.

“Go on listener,” Mic urged, kneeling on the carpet next to him as he peered over to watch him open the gift.

His fingers trembled in excitement as he peeled back the tape, slowly opening the box to reveal a pacifier; large, larger than one for an actual baby and decorated in green bunnies that had an odd likeness to him.

“I…oh.”

“Do you like it, sweetheart? I know maybe it’s not what you were expecting but it’s bound to help that oral fixation of yours and it’s sanitary, not even a choking hazard!”

“I don’t know how to feel, I’m nervous…” he confessed, dropping the pacifier back in its box and pushing it aside, not wanting to confront the confusing mix of emotions settled in his gut.

As ready as he was to embrace that softness he hadn’t expected such an infantile instrument to be thrown into the mix.

“You don’t have to use it right now sweetheart, no need to feel nervous, this is about making you comfortable! I’ll offer it again later, maybe then you’ll be up for it ya’ dig?”

He hummed in agreement just glad to have any conversation of the pacifier temporarily pushed back.

“Now, I was thinking we took a gentler approach today with some stories and snuggly blankets, give you some time to really let go and let me do all the work!” Mic proposed, gathering blankets into his arms as he dropped a nice green one onto Midoriya and kept a blue one for himself.

The office was noticeably chilly and the warmth of the blanket had his face relaxing and body preparing to curl up, which he caved as Yamada Sensei insisted he take some pillows, forming a sort of half circle around him as he urged him to lean against the very back, protected on all sides and very, very cozy.

“I thought I’d read the story today, is that okay?”

“Mhm,” he confirmed, rubbing his face against the soft fur of his bear and already feeling himself slip, down, down, down into that fuzziness, so similar to dissociation yet so different, fulfilling, free, not suffocating, and entrapped.

“Wonderful, darling,” Mic cooed, smiling that genuine way again, real and toothy.

“A long way out in the deep blue sea, there lived a fish.” Mic began, he was reading The Rainbow Fish a story Midoriya hadn’t heard in ages yet hitting so oddly close to home as Mic moved through the story.

The rainbow fish being special, having to get rid of what made him special in fear of being ostracized, only to lose his individuality, to conform and lose who he really was and what made him special in the first place, and finally, finally accepted once he had done so.

Had he made the same mistake as the fish? Conforming, losing what had made him special.

While their stories were different they had enough similarities that the intended comforting hum of story-time was instead a blaring anxiety that had his lower lip wobbling and shoulders shaking as he tried not to cry, his teacher much too busy reading the story to notice Izuku’s predicament.

“And, happy as a splash, he swam off to join his friends.” Mic finished up, finally noticing the teary baby who was still wrapped up in thick blankets and sucking on the ear of his stuffed bear as a single tear ran down his downtrodden face.

“Oh, Midoriya honey what’s the matter,” Mic questioned, dropping the book to shuffle over to the boy, gathering him up blankets and all in his long-limbed lap as he tried to soothe the boy.

“I-I,” he couldn’t seem to get the words out in this fuzzy state of his, wanting desperately to just give in completely and curl up in Mic’s lap, to cry and not be afraid to.

But he couldn’t spill the reasons for his tears, to do that he would have to admit he used to be quirkless, that he only fit in now because of how he had been forced to change, but had he been forced? It had always been a choice, and he regretted it almost… he didn’t regret trying to be a hero but he was starting to regret taking up the mantle of one for all, losing his individuality to become the new All Might, and even now, even with the softness enveloping his brain he was filled with an unbearably heavy weight and he didn’t know if these sessions were worth it after all.

He would be unburdened for a depressingly short moment before all those responsibilities were piled back on again, heavier and heavier each time, and while he thought these sessions were his temporary freedom that freedom had proven to be too sweet, and in the end, it was making what he did, had to do all the more difficult.

“Can’t tell you, not allowed… B-but sad,” he blubbered out hiding his head in the soft fur of his bear.

“Honey, what do you mean you can’t tell me? If someone is making you keep secrets that’s not very nice and I’d love to know who it is so I can help you,” he tried to prod, green curls shaking fervently.

“C-can’t, I’ll get in trouble!” Izuku sobbed, clutching the bear to his chest as his teary face stared up at Mic.

Mic frowned, a concerned tilt to his brows as he held the boy tighter, moving the boy's scarred hands away from his mouth.

Midoriya let out little huffs as he cried, nearly distraught until the bulb of a pacifier was pushed against his lips, he whined a bit at first but quickly fell into the soothing repetition of sucking on the pacifier as his teacher's long finger played with his hair.

It wasn’t a confession, it wasn’t an unburdening but it was comfort and that’s what he needed right now, that’s what he could allow.

“Sweetie, I feel like maybe there’s something tough going on that you don’t want to let slip, I think that’s why you refused to say a word to Hound Dog and I think that’s why you’ve been so susceptible to my brand of therapy.” Mic began, with no real answer except for a quickening of the pacifier in Midoriya’s mouth.

“I can’t make you tell me but when you’re ready you can come to me, and when we’re feeling a little better I think it’s time we have a talk about what exactly this coping mechanism you’ve taken on means, I’ve held back to ease you in, but you’re taking to this in ways I didn’t imagine, and that’s not bad at all darling it just means I’m so very lucky to help you like this.”

Mic’s words seemed to blur together into nothing more than soft tones and gibberish that was comforting regardless of his inability to truly decipher what it meant right now.

He was tired, he’d been tired, and today’s session full of softness and too many emotions had him more than content to just curl up against his teacher's warm body, taking in the now familiar scent of leather and spiced cologne.

It felt odd to trust in a man when his associations of family -and that’s oddly enough what Mic was beginning to feel like- were only reserved for his mom, almost impossible to see her now, Mic was filling a void, not just for his mother but for a father he hadn’t known. He had never been cared for like this and it made butterflies flutter in his stomach at the quiet acknowledgment that he was beginning to think of his English teacher as a father, as a protector.

He had thought once upon a time the same of All Might but his expectations weren’t that of a caring parent, they were impossible and cruel.

And Mic… well Mic just expected him to color, to play, to be nothing more than a child, and as insulting as that could be it was fantastically refreshing to him.

“How about we forget about the stories and we snuggle up and watch a little bit of a movie before we talk, hmm?”

That sounded nice and, he bounced a bit as a laptop was moved to the floor just in front of them, a colorful array of movies displayed on the screen.

In a moment of childish excitement, he excitedly pointed to the thumbnail of frozen, enamored with the story in his mushy state, and he couldn’t help but love it when he mentally compared it to his friend.

“Roki’,” he whispered, pointing at the screen as his teacher hummed along to let it go, Elsa currently building an ice castle on screen.

“Oh my,” Yamada Sensei laughed, cupping Izuku’s cheek in endearment, “Yes that is like your friend Todoroki isn’t it little one?”

“Yeah, Roki’.” He nodded, smiling around his pacifier as his teacher cooed, warning him that they’d have to pause their movie soon.

While he felt twinges of embarrassment every now and again whatever mental fog he was under won out most of the time, his burdened self sticking around in the recesses, making sure nothing unsavory slipped but otherwise resigned to soak up the comfort he now associated with Mic.

“Why don’t we clean up now Midoriya, you can keep your stuffed friend if you’d like.”

He wanted to protest, to throw a fit, he didn’t want to leave, to wait a whole week until he could experience the man’s private kindness.

“No… I don’t wanna be done,” he whispered, not wanting to really get in trouble but upset at having to leave this all behind.

Mic paused from where he was picking up stray stuffed animals, “Sweetheart I understand you’re not having a rockin’ day and I love that you’re enjoying yourself but we have a few serious conversations to have before you can leave.” The man tried to explain, resolve wavering as Izuku turned teary eyes on the man, Midoriya’s form crumpled and small as he curled in on himself.

“B-but I’ll miss you!” Izuku confessed, wanting to ask for a hug but not wanting to overstep more than he already had.

His teacher crouched down, level to Midoriya, “Oh honey… you can still check in with me even when we don’t have a session that day, even if you just need a hug I’ll try to help. Here, if you feel like you need to or even just want to you can text this number,” Mic expressed, jotting down a number on a slip of paper and placing it in Midoriya’s palm.

“Now then, let’s get to talking, although, I’d prefer if you aged up before we get into the details.”

“Age up?” He questioned, confusion painting his face. Mic slowly reached towards him to pluck out the pacifier, storing it in its box and placing it on the very corner of his desk.

“Hmm, you really don’t know much, that’s okay though! Try to feel bigger, older, think about the things you do when you’re not with me, the things you do at fifteen, hero training, homework, that kind of stuff.”

He gave it a shot, thinking about training with Aizawa, and study sessions with Uraraka, and slowly it worked, the fuzziness was clearing up, leaving behind embarrassment, though lesser than the previous sessions and questions.

“What… what’s been happening to me?” He settled on asking, his teacher's face serious yet nervous.

“It’s called regression, I should have guessed you were more susceptible due to the method of escapism that landed you here in the first place, dissociation can go hand in hand, though, not always.

Usually, the kind of therapy I do is just age dreaming, purely pretend, but for you, your mind settles down into a place where you’re genuinely a child again and that’s perfectly fine sweetheart.

With that said, it’s very important to me that you go to a teacher if for some reason you ever feel like you're regressing outside of these sessions, I believe though, that as involuntary as this seems to be for you, that you could learn to control it yourself if you would only tell someone what’s really going on. Too much stress has opened avenues for your brain to force a break on you, first, with the dissociation and now with the regression. As helpful as I think our sessions are for you the issue really is you floating off to some other place in class or god forbid out on the field, even if it’s not as scary as it once was just consider it honey,” Mic implored.

It felt like too much, learning all of it at once but it made a sick kind of sense, he gets thrown into therapy for dissociating and then thrown into a new therapy that supplies him with a new method of otherness that was maybe just as dangerous even if that wasn’t anyone’s intention. So he was right back at the start, weighing if he really should just tell someone the stress he’d been carrying.

“I- oh… that makes sense, it hasn’t happened outside of my sessions but I’m scared that it will, can I stop it somehow?” He asked, Mic wincing in response.

“I’m afraid that the door has been opened and can’t be closed on that one Midoriya, but I really do believe you can take control of it.”

Yeah under the stipulation he unburdened himself, but he’d worked too hard keeping it all under wraps and he feared All Might too much to give up now.

“It- I wasn’t lying I can’t,” he whispered, ashamed.

“I understand, we don’t have to talk about it anymore, let’s talk about our next session instead! I ended up booking a gym for us to use, but Eraser will have to let us in briefly, he doesn’t know the specifics just that you’ve been under my care, it will be completely private, and the time slot is taken so no one else should be able to book the gym,” Mic explained.

He was still unsure of moving this anywhere but Mic's office but the emphasis on the privacy of it all made him more comfortable giving in, especially when Mic looked so hopeful.

Besides that fuzzy feeling; regression, had him excited to move somewhere bigger, to play more fun games that they couldn’t in Mic’s office.

“Okay, as long as no one sees,” he agreed, petting the soft fur of his bear in his lap despite his older mindset.

“Awesome! Why don’t you take your bear with you, just bring him back next Tuesday in case younger you misses your friend. I just want you to have something so maybe you won’t miss me so much, but again Midoriya you can come say hi kiddo, you’re never a bother!” His teacher remarked, ruffling green curls as Midoriya made to leave.

Contemplative once again as he mulled through the benefits of his regression, it could end up proving to be a problem but for now, it was too addicting to worry about it, and really what could trigger it?

***

He really couldn’t help it, today was Tuesday once again, and as instructed he had placed his bear in his backpack, it had proven to be quite the distraction thus far.

It was kind of thrilling, an innocent secret.

For what might have been the fifth time that day he peeked into his bag, quickly stroking the fur before he zipped it back up, looking around to see if anyone noticed but no one had; not to his knowledge.

“Class dismissed, Midoriya stays behind.”

His head shot up, surprise coloring his features as seats quickly emptied, him and Aizawa remaining.

“Is- Is something the matter Sensei?” He started, his teacher giving him an odd look.

“I need to escort you to gym beta until Mic can join you, you’re not in trouble if that’s what you’re worried about,” Aizawa informed, urging Midoriya to gather up his things as they walked the empty halls to gym beta.

There was a comfortable silence, one that was oddly enough disturbed by Aizawa, “How have you been kid, has… I know it’s private but has seeing Mic been helping, are you doing better?”

He was a little surprised that the man was checking in, Aizawa was by no means apathetic towards the class but he didn’t advertise his affection for them either, not usually.

“M- okay Sensei, it’s been nice… it’s helping I think,” he confessed as Aizawa nodded in acknowledgment, seemingly done with the conversation for the time being.

“Well, here we are, although, Yamada seems to be late. You have permission to use this gym for the next hour before I’ll need to come back to lock it up,” Aizawa informed, opening the heavy doors and leading him inside. There wasn’t much inside but someone -presumably Mic- had been in to set up a box of activities, ranging from sports balls to jump rope, though Aizawa said nothing at the odd sight.

He awkwardly shuffled his backpack to his left shoulder as they waited, but still no sign of the loud blonde, enough was enough in the eyes of Aizawa as he twirled back to the entrance, “Stay here, I’ll go find Mic.”

Not one to disobey, or at least that directly he resigned himself to waiting longer, uncomfortable now at standing as he plopped down on the gym floor next to the bin, placing his bag into his lap.

Unzipping it quickly he pulled his bear out by the arm, a pleasant thrum of fuzziness already running through him at finally being able to unpack his secret treasure.

In the privacy of the gym and with the only real threat being Aizawa finding out which he found he didn’t much care he started to let his shoulders sag, relaxing into that fuzziness just a little.

It was nice, nowhere as nice as when Mic was helping him but still nice enough, he missed his pacifier though, as embarrassing as it was to admit that. He had to use both hands to really play with his bear, not leaving one free to put in his mouth.

He giggled softly as his bear performed a gymnastics routine of his own design, caught up in his silent exploration of his regression he didn’t notice a blonde head peeking in.

And not one he would have accepted glimpsing this vulnerability.

“Young Midoriya?”

An ice-cold chill went up his spine, leeching away the fuzziness and leaving behind a jolting anxiety.

No… this was the last person he wanted to find out, “Midoriya, I can’t believe you’re… well I don’t know exactly what you’re doing but it's certainly unbecoming!  I’ve been lenient with your tumultuous hold on OFA but this… you’re not even trying!” All Might scoffed.

He tried shaking his head, defending himself but his throat was all dried up, not even a single syllable making it past his lips.

“I thought you had the spirit, the drive, the ambition to pursue a higher version of yourself, to save yourself from the fate of a quirkless, I tried to save you from that fate and you waste time playing instead of training, you’re not taking this seriously at all! Maybe I made a mistake, maybe you aren’t mature enough,” Yagi frowned, shaking his head in disappointment.

But Izuku had been trying, breaking himself, bending on the verge of snapping, or maybe he had already snapped, maybe it was all too much, the expectations, the secrets; he missed Mic.

“I’ll try, I swear I’ll try, I’ll train ten times harder, I’ll make you proud, I swear, please don’t take it away, please,” he exclaimed, pushing the bear to the side as he scrambled upright.

“Prove it to me, spar with me, show me your worth, show me you’re worthy of my mantle,” All Might proposed.

He nodded shakily, feigning a bout of stretching as he texted Mic just one word, suddenly grateful for the number he’d been given last week; ‘Help.’

His spine stiffened as All Might's skinny frame enlarged into his much more domineering figure, recognizable, terrifying.

It brought him back to being that scrawny middle schooler on the beach, working so hard he threw up just to prove he was worthy, that he was worth something, anything.

“Don’t hold back,” All Might instructed, already lunging forward.

But he couldn’t make himself move, he was frozen, sinking back down, deep, deeper, down until he was gone, the only sensation shaking him from the recesses of his mind was the dull thud of a punch to his cheek.

“Fight back! Prove yourself, defend yourself,” All Mights shouted desperately, not giving the doll-like form of Midoriya a break as he reared back to kick the boy hoping he would jump up ready to fight, to show off that enthusiasm that had endeared him in the first place, but it’s like he’d been replaced by a dull, fractured version.

“I- oh god what am I doing, what’s wrong with you my boy…” he whispered, an ebb of remorse as he stood over the boy's crumpled form, he’d pushed too hard, he'd thought he had been gently pushing the boy just past the limit, enough to grow but never to break and he had been very, very wrong.

He didn’t know how to be a mentor, he didn’t know how this all worked and Midoriya, Midoriya had paid the price.

He deflated, coughing harshly as he waited for the boy to move, to talk, to cry, to do anything.

Finally, the silence had been interrupted but not by the voice of Midoriya, instead Hizashi, a harsh gasp filling the room.

“Oh my god, WHAT THE FUCK YAGI?”

“I- we were sparring it was a misunderstanding,” he tried to explain backing away as Mic's eyes seemed to glow in anger, his leather-clad frame closing in to where Yagi was cowering.

“Absolutely not, that was assault plain and simple, you don’t have permission to spar with students alone, you don’t have permission to be in this gym, and you don’t have permission to punch my FUCKING KID IN THE JAW!” Mic screamed, quirk shaking the room around them.

“What is going on, Mic… Midoriya, why is Midoriya bleeding,” Aizawa interjected, re-entering the gym after his failed attempt at finding the voice hero.

Rushing over, Aizawa kneeled on the floor resting Midoriya’s head in his lap as he waited for the boy to stir.

“Aizawa, please tell Mic it was only a training accident, he’s being unreasonable!” Yagi pleaded, hoping to clear everything up.

Aizawa raised a questioning brow, “A training accident, Midoriya is scheduled to have therapy right now, in no world was he supposed to be sparring, and if you did spar with him it was unsanctioned and completely unacceptable.”

Aizawa froze, Midoriya’s eyes clearing up, face still for a single moment before twisting up into despair, no it was fear, his problem child was terrified, as he let out a stuttering sob.

Surprised and suddenly protective, he allowed Midoriya to climb up into his lap, letting him hide his teary face in his capture weapon as he was clung to.

“He’s fucking terrified Yagi, you don’t even have the authority to be in this gym, what other protocols have you been breaking? You think you’re hot shit because of your title as the number one hero but you’re just a bully,” Mic sneered, cornering the man once more.

Midoriya listened on in fear, trembling into the arms of his homeroom teacher and feeling so unbelievably fuzzy, fuzzy in a way where he didn’t think he’d ever get out, no sign of his older self and therefore no reason to keep quiet any longer.

No reason to burden himself anymore, it was time to confess.

“I-I- please no more, no more, please, please,” he sobbed, Aizawa stilling, holding him tighter.

“Kid, breathe, it’s okay, Mic get him out of here. Now.”

Mic growled in frustration wanting to beat the man’s face in but taking pause as Midoriya cried, this was about him after all, he had to comfort his baby.

“Get the fuck out of here, and don’t think we’re done, trust me the principal is going to want to see you,” he whispered with glee, knowing Nedzu’s twisted form of justice would suffice for the moment.

Plopping himself down next to the pair all huddled up on the floor he finally spoke to his kid, “Honey, he’s gone.”

Green eyes revealed themselves, swollen and teary as they adjusted to the bright gym, thankfully free of the number one hero.

“Papa! Scared, I- no more secrets.”

His heartbeat quickened at the title, it was the first time he’d been called such a thing even with the type of therapy he provided, though Midoriya’s case was different, it had been from the start.

“All Might, he was the one making you keep secrets, that’s why you couldn’t tell me, listener,”

Aizawa’s eyes focused on the reveal, still cradling the kid who was antsy to move to the lap of his caregiver.

Huffing as the firm weight of a fifteen-year-old was transferred in his lap, not that he really minded he shared a glance with his coworker as Midoriya began confessing a secret so heavy it was no wonder he had been desperately trying to escape his reality.

“Not my quirk, not mine, he’s gonna take it, all gone! Gave it to me, gotta be perfect or else he takes, gotta train, gotta train,” he frantically murmured, nails digging into his palms.

Clicking his tongue Mic grabbed the discarded bear, placing it into the kid's hands.

With a little prompting, they got the full story, One For All, the two brothers, a case of discrimination, groomed to be a hero, to be the next symbol of peace, sworn to secrecy.

Maybe out of anyone he had helped in this way, Midoriya needed it the most, to be a kid again.

Midoriya was distraught, young, younger than he had ever been before and it had his protectiveness rearing up and a deep regret for not punching All Might when he had the chance.

He instructed Midoriya to rest with Aizawa after tears had slowed, finally settled, and regression warm and fuzzy again, not infected with the cold shock of a forced drop.

The kid momentarily busy and less distraught he surveyed the room before they headed to the nurse, dusting himself off and with plans of jump rope and kickball abandoned he packed up the gym, keeping an eye on green curls as they lay against the obnoxious yellow sleeping bag of his friend, the slow bob of a pacifier moving in the kid's mouth,

The kid was exhausted, burdened far too long by the weight of secrets, the secrets of a sad, irresponsible grown man, much too heavy for a child to carry.

He picked up the boy, his face smoothed out in his sleep, his expression, lighter, free.

Glancing at the near-silent figure through all of this he raised a brow, “So no questions? I’m surprised Sho,” he teased as Aizawa locked up the gym.

“I already knew, he brought that damned bear today and wouldn’t stop petting it in class."

“And you didn't harp on him? Aw, softie!"

He paused, before asking a more pressing question, smoothing a green curl down, " You're really not worried though? Your issue was him being not all clear in the head in the first place,” he questioned, walking in time with the erasure hero.

“I was, briefly, but I think it’s good for him, he needs it. I don’t really think the dissociation or even his regression was the main issue, I think it has always been Yagi. Rest assured that won’t factor into how the kid performs now, and I think I’ll give him some leniency, and extra lessons. I mean he just got a quirk Zashi, and the main instructions he’s gotten on how to use it are from the baboon posing as the number one hero, and despite it all, he’s a good kid, a hero.”

Hizashi wanted so desperately to tease Aizawa for the mushy confession but Izuku had him feeling a little softer these days too.

“Yeah… he’s a hero,” he repeated, smiling down at the kid.

A hero yes, but also his kid, just a kid.

That’s all he needed to be right now.