Mind Boggled

Chapter 76

long overdue but girl wattpad got onto me for not updating and I'm a spiteful bitch

Disclaimer: This entire chapter is a let's-shit-on-Sansa-for-no-apparent-reason party. Endeavor trigger warning. He's here, I regret writing it looking back. Let's all suffer together, yay!

No bc actually what MANIC episode did I have when I decided to make this story, and moreover, Endeavor the gay furry extraordinaire. 2019 was wild. Don't start stories when you're 17 and your dad has cancer and you're trying to cope with horrible humor and nothing else, kids. 

(My dad is alive and fine btw so. Slay for him.)

Third person pov

Iida had cried like, a lot. Which was great for him, really. Harper was glad he was... getting that all out. Or whatever the fuck was going on. Don't ask her, because really, she has little to no idea what the fuck is going on at any given time anymore. 

Again, she found herself wishing Kirishima was here to help her. Instead she'd been stuck by herself, forced to awkwardly lead Tenya off to the side of the gym whilst their classmates tried to pretend they weren't eavesdropping and shooting glances their way every two seconds.

He felt bad about avoiding her. It wasn't hard to get Tenya to open up-- or at least, it wasn't as hard as Harper had feared it might be. She was still regretting not cornering him somewhere else more private. In her defense, she hadn't exactly expected him expected him to let out a torrent of uncontrollable tears. Kurogiri had pretty much lost it, warping away from where Sero and Bakugo had joined forces trying to get him to stay put for once in his life. Harper wasn't even upset about it. Just shocked the two boneheads had actually worked together on something. 

It was an exhausting day, emotionally. Which has been just about every single day lately, but Harper digresses nonetheless. Everything feels blurry and she wishes she knew what the fuck she was supposed to be doing. Training, probably, for the licensing exams. Is she participating in those? Does she have to? Her quirk is certified for use in the field of interrogation and police work under the direct supervision of a qualified adult superior. Harper supposes if she wants to use it to, say, fuck with people's emotions... yeah, that might need a license. What a pain.

"Dabi." Harper's voice came out raspy and tired, but relieved. "You look like shit. When was the last time you showered? Or ate, for that matter?"

The scarred man was sat across from her, face hidden in shaky hands, elbows propped on his knees. He looked like shit. Seriously, he was worse than she was. Harper should've known better than to assume he wouldn't sink into his guilt. Even though he'd done nothing wrong and it wasn't his fault, Harper knew Dabi better than that. 

This was expected, and she hated herself a little for not addressing it sooner. Dabi was someone who needed his space, sure, but Harper had given him too much of it. That was on her.

Sansa and Tsukauchi stood behind him and looked totally wrecked, hovering to make sure he wouldn't run. Their exhaustion was evident, and Sansa's fur was even singed in some places. Good. He deserved it, even if he had gone to the trouble of dragging Dabi over here to her. 

She was endlessly glad to see the scarred man. Even if he was obviously throwing himself some sort of perpetual pity party, Harper had missed him. Kurogiri had too if his fluctuating mist was anything to go off of. Sero had been pawned off onto Aizawa for the time being-- something neither of them were all too happy about.

Harper inspected Dabi, her quirk digging its claws into the familiar mind with ease and beginning to sift through the blockades of steaming horseshit that had formed. Harper wished she could pull them out and take this all away, but that simply wasn't how it worked. The brunette resisted to urge to scrub at her eyes.