Affinity

Chapter 38 - Psychoanalysis

 Nezu and Aizawa had both decided to force her into therapy. Something that she'd attempted to argue against for what felt like weeks, to no avail. She'd all but flat out refused, though she knew Azaiwa and her principal well enough to know when they set their minds to something, nothing would stop them from following through. They'd sat her down one day after class and all but told her she'd be going to therapy. They claimed it was optional, but judging by the look on their faces she knew it wasn't.

This was how she found herself surrounded by glass walls that looked out over the skyline as the sun began to set. She was sitting in an overstuffed leather chair, her legs folded neatly underneath herself and a blanket pooled across her lap.

So far, she hadn't been able to bring herself to look at her therapist, and it wasn't just because of his rather unique appearance. The man sitting across from her had long legs clad in navy dress pants, and a broad chest that was swathed in a cream sweater. The strangest part, though, was the man's face.

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, taking him in for a few moments before he started speaking. Despite his relatively normal body, the man's face was distinctly that of a shark... Which, admittedly, wasn't the strangest thing she'd ever seen. Of course, there was the Pro Hero, Gang Orca to contend with. Not to mention the strange creatures that had come bursting from the walls after All Might had tried to rescue her that night.

She'd been coming 3 times a week for the past two weeks. So far, they'd not covered anything of importance. She'd merely sat in her overstuffed chair and picked at the stitches in her hand, as he stared out into the setting sun.

Tonight though, something felt different. Mako sat across from her, his fingers drumming across his knees. His fingers were well manicured and perfectly maintained, Emiko noticed. It was clear he took great pride in how he looked and how he presented himself to his clients.

"So. Emiko, I think it's time we talk."

He said it so matter-of-factly that it took her a minute to process what he'd said. He was all but telling her to bare her soul to him, to lay her innermost thoughts and feelings out on the table as if he wasn't a complete and utter stranger to her.

"You do?" She responded, finally swinging her gaze up to him. Everything felt a little lopsided now that her eye patch had been removed, and she was still getting used to only having one good eye to see.

"I do." He unfolded his knees, before setting down the pad of paper that normally sat in his lap. "I won't even write anything down. It's been many sessions, and you've yet to speak to me once."

"Have you ever considered there's a reason for that?" She spat, tearing her gaze away from him again and focusing it on the torn edges of her cuticles instead. Her fingers fidgeted with the torn skin, pulled it back slightly. It burned, but it gave her something else to focus on.

"I have." He answered, unphased by the venom in her voice. "Would you like to know why I think that is?"

She didn't answer, unsure if she wanted to know what this man really thought of her... coping mechanisms.

"Silence is often an indication of an ongoing internal monologue. Did you know that?" He posed the question, but didn't wait for an answer. "Especially in cases such as yours. People who have undergone serious, life altering trauma tend to have a very hard time being vocal about what happened to them."

She tried not to perk her ears as that, as he spoke about others who may have been in her position previously.

"I think you're afraid of speaking, because you don't want to be viewed as less than perfect. Even by me, your therapist. You have immense pride in yourself, Emiko. That's a good thing, but..." He trailed off, pausing only a moment before continuing, "It can also be incredibly hindering in the healing process."