The Extra's Rebellion
Chapter 80: Therapy

Chapter 80: Therapy

After the little stunt he pulled, saying he would burn down the world. Who knew that they would take it seriously. And their solution to that was— Therapy.

Rain tapped softly against the tall, tinted windows of the room. It was artificial created to calm the mind.

It wasn’t sterile like the infirmary. It wasn’t gold-lined like the Class buildings. It wasn’t a dungeon, either.

It was... quiet.

Muted greens, soft greys. Cushions that didn’t feel like they were hiding knives. A strange rectangular device ticked softly on the wall. The air was cool and dry—mercifully scentless.

Zephyr sat on a wide couch, leaning forward, elbows on knees, fingers steepled just in front of his face. His scythe wasn’t in the room. It hadn’t been allowed.

Neither had his other weapons.

He wore a simple black shirt and loose slacks. The clothes felt like paper on his skin, not heavy enough to carry the weight in his chest.

Across from him sat a woman with silver hair pulled back in a twist. No armor. No Aether signature. Just a crisp black suit and a skirt, with a notebook in her lap and a pen that hadn’t yet touched the page.

Her name tag simply read— Dr. Eyla Voss.

"Would you like to start with how you’re feeling today, Zephyr?" she asked, voice even and gentle. No edge, no fear.

He stared at her like she’d asked him to solve a math equation using blood.

"...Alive," he muttered.

Dr. Voss didn’t flinch. "That’s good. Alive is a start."

Zephyr’s eyes twitched at the word. Alive, what’s so good about life when there is no love, family or friends. This loner life was killing him. He did have a friend— if the instructors could be considered one.

He looked at her for an agonizing minute before replying. "Why do you say it like it’s a victory."

"Sometimes it is," she said.

He looked away. The room didn’t have corners deep enough to hide in. No shadows to disappear into. Just pale light and the quiet tick-tick-tick of the clock.

"Why am I here?" he asked, he knew why he was here, he just wanted to hear her say it.

"You made a declaration out of anger and it was met with negative reactions" Dr. Voss said simply. "And the academy wants to let you know that you aren’t alone".

Zephyr scoffed. A bitter, humorless sound.

"Right not alone, just monitored and evaluated. The perfect definition of not being alone".

Dr. Voss tilted her head slightly, pen still untouched. "Is that how it feels to you?"

Zephyr didn’t answer immediately. His eyes traced the rain slipping down the glass, like something was trying to escape from the sky itself. He sighed.

"I told them I’d burn the world. Not because I wanted to." His voice cracked, barely audible. "And it’s not like I could".

’Yet’.

Merin had told him to play nice, agree to what ever he was told and not cause anymore trouble.

She leaned forward slightly—not intrusively, just enough to show she was listening.

"And what would that change?"

His jaw clenched, he was starting to get irritated at how gently she handled him, like something that might break if touched too hard. Didn’t she know he was already broken?

"It’d mean I existed," he said finally. "Even if just as a threat."

Dr. Voss was silent for a moment. Then, softly. "You don’t think you exist?"

Zephyr looked at her. Really looked, the silver hair, the calm eyes, the useless pen.

’I remember chewing through my own thigh to stay conscious’. He couldn’t tell her that he remembered screaming for hours until his voice went raw, that he remembered being grateful when the rats started biting because it meant he was still alive. That he mattered enough to be eaten’.

Dr. Voss folded her hands atop the notebook. "What are you thinking about".

"Huh".

"Are you recalling bad memories. Did my previous words struck a cord". She said.

Zephyr looked at her for a moment again before replying. "How could you tell, some kind of Art".

"No". She opened the drawer from the dest and showed him a silver lined mirror. "It’s written all over your face".

Zephyr didn’t take the mirror at first.

He stared at it.

And his face twisted—not in anger or sorrow—but in Annoyance, his upper lip curled slightly. Jaw tightened. A flicker of something hot and sharp glinted in his eyes.

Irritated didn’t begin to cover it.

He looked at the silver-lined mirror like it had personally insulted him.

Like it had dragged up a memory he’d buried beneath layers of ash and iron.

Dr. Voss said nothing. She merely held it out, patient.

When he finally snatched it from her hand, he didn’t lift it to study himself. He just stared at the back of it, fingers twitching.

His lips curled into a sneer, barely there.

"So what now?" he said. "You want me to cry? Tell you I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean it?"

Dr. Voss didn’t react, not to his tone, not to the spike in pressure behind his voice.

"No," she said calmly. "I want you to be honest."

He scoffed. "That was honesty."

"Was it?"

His jaw tightened. "I’m not here for word games."

"Neither am I," she said gently.

Then Dr. Voss gave a small, knowing smile, her voice teasing but measured. "Maybe what you really need isn’t to burn the world... but just a little affection. From a girl, perhaps?"

Zephyr stared at her like she’d just grown a second head. "You think a hug and a kiss will fix me? What am I? twelve?".

Dr. Voss raised an eyebrow, her smile sharpening just a bit. "Well, if you could get a hug and a kiss, maybe we’d test that theory."

Zephyr raised an eyebrow at her. "And what makes you think I can’t get a girlfriend by myself".

"You can". Dr. Voss sounded surprised as the revelation that he could get a girlfriend.

Zephyr’s eyes twitched as he sat up straighter, scandalized. "Oh, If I wanted a girlfriend, I would’ve already gotten one by now. You crazy. You got the wrong read on me, woman."

Dr. Voss chuckled softly, finally putting pen to paper. "Defensive and dramatic. Classic signs of someone who absolutely could not get a girlfriend."

Zephyr pointed at her, deadpan. "Therapy was a mistake".

Dr. Voss leaned back in her chair, folding her hands in her lap, eyes never leaving Zephyr. She tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her silver eyes. "What if I give you a kiss and a hug?"

Dr. Voss blinked at him, slowly. Innocently. As if she had just offered him a glass of water.

Zephyr blinked, completely caught off guard. His brain stuttered like a malfunctioning machine. He couldn’t help but notice the way her hair framed her face, the sharpness of her features that made her look both innocent and mischievous at the same time.

’Not bad’. He thought to himself, his usual cynical demeanor faltering for a moment.

Dr. Voss blinked innocently at him, her lips curling slightly. "I’d take your silence as a yes," she said softly, watching him.

Zephyr’s heart seemed to skip a beat. His mouth opened, and without thinking, he blurted out, "Hell no."

Dr. Voss’s face shifted, her smile faltering slightly, before it turned to one of feigned hurt. She looked at him, her expression softening into something almost tragic. "Am I not beautiful enough?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock sadness.

Zephyr stared at her, his face frozen in an awkward mix of disbelief and exasperation. What just happened? He had no words to respond to that. His mind was still trying to process what she’d said, and his pulse was still racing from the sudden shift in energy between them.

She wasn’t exactly what he expected from a therapist, but that was the least of his concerns right now.

He stared at her, utterly blindsided. "Are you—what—what kind of therapist are you?"

Dr. Voss smiled. Innocently and mischievously, mixed with a hint of curiously. "The kind who pokes at knots until they come undone."

Zephyr made a strangled sound in the back of his throat and turned away, muttering something under his breath about how he preferred dungeons to this kind of mental torture.

The tick of the clock filled the silence again but Dr. Voss’s smile remained in place, but her eyes gleamed with a soft challenge.

"The offer still stands, Zephyr," she said, her voice light and teasing. "A kiss and a hug, if you change your mind. You know, they say a little affection can go a long way in healing."

Zephyr’s face turned a deeper shade of red, a mix of annoyance and something he refused to acknowledge. His mouth opened, then snapped shut. This was absurd. The nerve of this woman—this therapist.

"You’re insane," he muttered, his tone flat, but there was a flicker of something underneath the sarcasm.

Dr. Voss just leaned forward slightly, eyes locked on his. "Maybe," she said, eyes twinkling. "But you’re the one who’s here. And besides, it’s not a bad idea to try something different. Maybe your usual methods haven’t been working as well as you think."

Zephyr wanted to retort, wanted to spit something sharp back at her, but the words caught in his throat. He’d been caught off guard before, but this—this was a new level of uncomfortable. And the thing that made it worse? It was working.

"You’re really pushing it," he said after a long, strained silence. "You’re not even taking this seriously."

Dr. Voss straightened slightly, still with that curious, almost playful smile. "Oh, I am taking it seriously, Zephyr. Just not in the way you expect."

"Or"

Immediately she said ’or’ Zephyr got a bad feeling so he braced himself.

"You want something else, something deeper than a hug. Something boys your age want, we are all alone you know".

’This woman is crazy hasn’t she heard of my reputation or, is she mocking me". Immediately the thought entered his mind, his impression of her Immediately dropped to the lowest low.

"Are you mocking me". He growled at her.

"Huh".

"You clearly heard of what happened at the Third princess birthday". It was then he saw the look of realization on her face, which quickly changed to pity.

With a exhale she dropped her notebook and pen then said to him in a serious voice.

"I would have called you stupid, but seeing your present state I prefer not to". She didn’t give him a chance to speak.

"First if all, has any instructors been giving you a hard time".

’no’. The answer came as a whisper in his mind.

"Think about it, how can a nameless person appear at the royal ball, drug the princess under the eyes of everyone present, meet her at the bathhouse unseen. Later discovered to not have access to Aether".

She stopped to stare at him. "Is that possible without the help of some sort of backing".

’No’.

"Then after he revived from his ’supposed’ death only for him to be killed again, only for his mother to plead his case. And the fact that the Demios clan last heir disappeared over ten years ago, only the truly ignorant would believe that story".

"So I know that your going there wasn’t your own choice but you were ordered there".

But his mind wasn’t on what she was saying anymore. ’My mother plead my case’. His eyes had already shown him the truth but he assumed she had abandoned him, but from the recent information it seems that wasn’t the case.