Chapter 55

The morning sun streamed through my window, casting golden rays across my cluttered room, but I had no time to waste. Today was going to be a long day. I could feel the energy pulsing in me, a mixture of excitement and trepidation—rescuing citizens from chaos would surely be no easy task. But first, I had therapy.

Peter was already up and dressed. He stood in the kitchen pouring coffee, the comforting scent mingling with the breakfast in the air. I'd never get tired of this routine—us sitting at the table with my family, laughing and teasing one another. My little brother Izuku, with his green hair and bright spirit, was animatedly discussing his upcoming hero training sessions. My mother, Inko, floated pancakes onto our plates with her quirk, a gentle smile gracing her face, while my dad Hizashi, ever the jokester, ruffled my hair with a fiery chuckle.

I soaked in the warmth of family as I tucked into my breakfast. Every bite tasted sweeter knowing I'd soon be out there, saving lives—just like I had in my past life as Superman.

"Anos!," Izuku said, snapping me from my thoughts. "You'll be great out there today! Make sure to look after yourself, okay?" There was a hint of concern in his voice—he always worried about me, but it was my turn to protect him, too.

"Of course," I replied, my tone cool but reassuring. "I'll make it back in one piece—promise."

After breakfast, I waved goodbye to my family, Peter falling into step beside me. As we walked towards the therapy clinic, the city buzzed with life, the air electric with the potential of a new day.

The clinic was a calm oasis amidst the chaotic world outside. Tristian, my therapist, greeted me with a professional smile, his clipboard already poised to take notes. "Good to see you, Anos. How have you been since our last meeting?"

I took a deep breath, sitting down opposite him. "Well, you know… I've been trying to sort through some things." Peter sat off to the side, listening intently. I appreciated having him there; he always filled in the gaps when I found it hard to express myself.

As I spoke about the nightmares—the screams, the bloodshed, the constant fear that had followed me from my previous life, I felt a weight lingering in my chest. I cleared my throat. "My childhood best friend isn't dead. Dabi… he's alive. He's a villain now, but we've started communicating. I guess… we're friends?"

Tristian nodded, jotting notes. "That's a significant step forward. Friendship is complicated, especially after a betrayal. How do you feel about that?"

"Confused, mostly," I admitted. "He's done terrible things, but I can't help but remember the good we shared. It's hard to reconcile."

"Understanding those complexities takes time," he replied. "It's okay to feel overwhelmed. Our emotions are meant to guide us, not control us. Embrace them, don't shy away from the process."

I lost myself in the rhythm of our conversation, spilling every anxious thought. No one truly understood what it was like to live in two worlds; the weight of responsibility was heavy on me. Panic attacks gripped me without warning, memories of battles lost and lives extinguished sending shivers down my spine.

"Medication for anxiety and stress," Tristian finally said, handing me a small bottle. "This will help steady your emotions and allow you to focus on what truly matters."

I stared at the bottle in my palm, hesitating. I'd never had a taste for medication; I often believed mental strength alone was enough. But this wasn't just my fight anymore; I had responsibilities—like protecting Izuku, Momo, and all of these civilians who looked up to heroes like me. I nodded slowly, my resolve hardening. I would try it.

"Dabi… I mean, Touya," I said, testing the name on my tongue, "I'm thinking of giving him a chance to rebuild what we had. However twisted that friendship was."

"That's wise. Relationships take work, especially when mending bridges. Sometimes people surprise you," Tristian said before shifting gears back to me. "Just remember, progress isn't linear. There will be good days and bad days—allow yourself the grace to experience both."

When our session finished, I felt lighter. Perhaps it was the catharsis of opening up, or perhaps the knowledge that I was taking steps towards healing. But good therapy often leads to clarity, and I was more determined than ever to face whatever awaited me in Tokyo.