Mind Boggled

Chapter 7

Third person pov

It was already Wednesday and Harper was nearing total brain death, so jot that the fuck down. Her exhaustion was real, as was her new caffeine addiction. Super fun. Very cash money. Being in UA's hero course was taxing, but even she knew it would pay off in the long run. Hero training was very slowly feeling less like hell and more invigorating. Slowly. And by that she meant she was okay for thirty seconds before her lungs were ready to give out. She was covered in bruises and her muscles ached so bad she felt numb.

Dragging her feet and pouring far too many energy shots to be healthy into her dinged-up thermos, she pulled herself into class. With the Sports Festival coming up, Iida was even worse than usual. She hadn't thought that at all possible until now. Everyone was either overly excited, overly stressed, or a terrifying mixture of the two. Barring Izuku, who was just downright terrified. Still, this meant she had to be extra diligent in watching the engine-quirk user.

"Are you... wearing sweatpants under your skirt?" Kaminari asked as Harper shuffled through the door, looking like she was hanging on by a mere thread. How could the blonde form words with the Wii theme remix still going through his head? Was he so used to it that he'd somehow learned to function with it there? Was he even aware? Harper had so many questions, none of which she truly wanted answers to. Who knows what horrors were waiting to be found in Kaminari's brain-damaged head.

"I've got on slippers too." Harper grumbled, raising an eyebrow as she passed an awe-struck Kirishima.

"That's amazing. She's absolutely fucking amazing. Nobody here is manly enough to push dress code like that! And she looks so cute. Tired, but adorable. I wonder what she's thinking about. I should really talk to her. I'm just so nervous! What would I even ask her about? She hasn't said a word to me since her first day here. I wonder-" Harper dipped out of the redhead's thoughts, unintentionally plunging right into Bakugo's in the process.

"Fuck, I just want to be friends with Deku, at least. Why am I suck a fucking idiot? I'm a fucking dumbass. Why can't I just tell him what I'm thinking? It shouldn't... It shouldn't be this fucking hard. Is there something wrong with me? There has to be. Nobody else is like this. I don't want to be like this. I just... don't fucking get it. I don't get it!" Outwardly, Bakugo was glaring at seemingly nothing. Harper was beginning to think he just had a resting bitch face, or defaulted to that expression without realizing it. Poor guy was having an existential crisis. Harper sighed heavily. She was going to regret this, but why the fuck not? She was going to die one day soon anyway.

"Hey, Sato." Harper said loudly, drawing his attention. She put on some heavy emphasis, sounding detached and utterly done with everything. "When I can't convey my thoughts through words out loud, sometimes I write them down instead."

"Uh... good for... you?" Sato's brows furrowed. "That came out of nowhere. Did I zone out somehow, and she's actually been talking this entire time? I don't think I've ever heard her voice raise so much. She was almost yelling, but also... not. I feel super bad now! I think I missed something!"

Alternately, several people in the room seemed to have their own respective epiphanies. Harper was beginning to think she might care too much. She really, really missed her stoner class from before.

"Fuck! Tired Bitch is a genius! I can write shit down!" Bakugo mentally crowed, straightening up and glaring back at her. She felt no malice coming from him, and even so, she gave no shits. Good for him. Maybe he could make Izuku not scared shitless of him via folded pieces of notebook paper.

"Love letter." Kirishima's thoughts gasped. "I should write her a love letter! Then she'll know exactly what I'm thinking!"

The absolute irony in that made her snort as she plopped down. Her eyes trailed towards Iida, and she winced at his thoughts. Yep, there was that regret she swore she was going to feel. "Was that a sign that I should go through with it? Perhaps... yes, I should rewrite my suicide note, and then... and then I can..." The blue-haired teen was once again spiraling into a pit. But then again, when was he not? The guy was at rock bottom, and still digging to try and go deeper. Most people generally tried to go up. Not this dumbass, though. He was blind to his own self-worth.