Mind Boggled

Chapter 69

You can read up to chapter 74 on Patreon! 

Third person pov

"You have to trust." Kirishima's voice breathed, a whisper, a distant memory, a stab to the chest, a gut-wrenching pain she could hardly bear. "Harper, open up to everyone. Tell them the truth. S-Stop pushing them away and blocking them out. Let them be there for you. You have to let them be there. You c...can't get stuck on this. You can't let th-this be the end, alright?"

Harper's heart pounded in her ears, so deafening she could hardly hear anything aside from it. Her waking up had not been in a jolt or a scream. It wasn't sudden in the least. There was no thrashing around like she was fighting something. The way she came to was slow. A very gradual readmittance into consciousness, her mind and her quirk slowly ticking up, up, up into coherent thoughts. It had taken time for things to snap into place. Now, she couldn't breathe. Air was stolen from her lungs, and horror had settled like a stone in the bottom trenches of her heart.

The pain was washing through her like water through a fountain, bursting forth in a steady rush. Kirishima's hands were wrapped around hers, so alive and warm, but not for long. He was covered in blood, the crimson liquid bubbling from his lips just as quickly as the IV as pumping it back in. He had a towel on his shoulder that he'd lean into, wiping it away, streaking it across his lips. It was an endless cycle held onto by the boy and his quirk, which worked overtime to keep his grotesque wound hardened. It was the only thing keeping him here. After that, he'd be gone.

A world without Kirishima did not seem feasible. It wasn't something Harper had thought about, just like she hadn't ever thought about a world without Eric. Yet here she was, her brother gone for years. Was the same thing going to happen here? Kirishima was so present and real, and the thought of him fading with time felt nothing short of impossible. To wake up and him... not be there. Was that possible? Could she handle it if it was? What was... what was Harper supposed to do? 

Harper felt like she was in limbo. Kirishima wasn't gone. He was right here, sitting in front of her, smiling sadly, talking, crying. His hands were still warm, squeezing her smaller ones reassuringly and with familiar softness. His voice was the same deep timbre she'd always known it to be. To think he was going to die-- was practically already dead. His fate was painfully sealed, unmoving. Harper felt like she was falling. There was panic, swirling in her throat, tightening, making it harder to breathe and even harder to think. Her quirk was shrilly screaming in warning, sensing its user being ripped apart at the seams.

There had been a sort of 'oh, shit' moment that had bowled her over when she'd first woken up, and she had known as she pried her eyes open that whatever was waiting for her wasn't going to be good. It had been right. Her quirk was right, because of course it was. Harper stared at Kirishima with wide eyes, wondering morbidly if she was going to survive something so tragic again. She liked to think she was stronger now than she had been back then, but forcing herself to listen, her heart stuttering in her chest unevenly... she wasn't so sure.

"Harper." Kirishima's voice held an uncharacteristic snap, the undertone of a wheeze staining the tone. She flinched, eyes flying up to his red ones and away from the gaping wound he bore on his side. The static faded slightly at the familiar, earnest gaze. Kirishima's expression was set like steel, apologetic and firm. Harper felt air enter her lungs in a cold rush. Reality wrapped around her like a vice. "Harper. I need you to snap out of it and let me know you hear me. I need you to get your shit together. You have to!"

Harper almost wanted to laugh, everything in her bordering on hysterically incredulous. Her panic was a swirling mass she could do little to combat. Harper was good at keeping a level head. It was usually what she did best, but right now, sitting here... she was falling apart. Crumbling, images of her baby cousin crying, of Bakugo's face twisted in pain, of Kirishima shoving Dabi out of the way. They all bombarded her mercilessly, too much and all too fast. Now Kirishima was dying. She'd gotten kidnapped, and he was dying.