Mind Boggled

Bloody Nose

Bloody Nose by Jack Conte, requested by soggy_pizza! If you also requested this and I didn't tag you, I'm sorry. I tried to catch repeats and tag them as well but I'm sure some of you slipped through.

I have picked a total of six songs. Yeah, I'm weak. I couldn't choose just one. Six was a struggle. I originally had twenty so this is an i m p r o v e m e n t. This is the first of six y'all. Don't worry about chapters, I'll be sure to balance and not too much of one thing.

This is a bonus. It does NOT effect the story. 

Also, TRIGGER WARNING, mentions of suicide, depression, it's Iida centric.

Third person pov

Count your bones, one by one.

Iida traced the scars on his arms, his eyes dull. His head felt foggy, as though he were sick or something of that sort. The weight wasn't new. He'd always had it, though tonight it felt heavier. As though every part of him was made of thick led. Moving felt like a chore. Just blinking his eyes gave him an exhaustion that ran deeper than his bones. He was so, so tired, and yet could feel every part of his body. There was pain, but he wasn't hurt. This was a feeling he'd grown accustomed to. One he didn't know how to get rid of.

He'd tried to combat his depression in the past. Of course he had. But nothing he did seemed to work, and he had to burden others to feel even the slightest bit of relief. Leaning on others felt wrong-- like it was forbidden, or something he shouldn't do. He knew he could count on his friends. Oddly enough, Harper had even randomly brought up that it was okay to share any burdens he might hold with others. Sometimes he wondered how she saw through him so easily.

He felt like he'd been dragged through the deepest pits of hell several times over. He wasn't bleeding, but he may as well have been. His life was good. Why he had so many mental and emotional scars, he didn't know. He was weak. He came from a esteemed family, and had gotten into UA's hero course. People all across Japan dreamed of getting into such a school, and yet against all odds, they'd chosen him to join 1-A. It was shocking in a way that should have overjoyed him, but when he'd seen, he'd just been numb.

Lie awake at night.

He couldn't sleep. He'd gotten good at covering the bags under his eyes with concealer, but it didn't mean he wasn't exhausted just because others couldn't see it. He wished he could sleep like everyone else. Lately, things had been a little better. He had an easier time drifting off, even if it did take an hour or more most nights. It was an improvement from no sleep at all. He was sure it was thanks to Harper. His other friends were amazing, and more supportive than he could ever hope for. But Harper...

He looked forward to talking to her the most. She was tired like him, and every word that came from her mouth directed towards him seemed to be a comfort. She'd make him feel lighter and lighter everyday, and by the end of it his chest was warm in a homely way. He had no idea how she always knew what to tell him. Maybe it was a reflex-- a part of her quirk. Either way, he was convinced she was the only reason he was still around. Even now, he was looking forward to speaking with her the next day. She never made him feel annoying or like he was being irritating. He was quite sure she was the only reason he was alive.

Underground, boxed and glum

Even with things better, and even with Harper helping him to feel happier and happier as the days passed by, he still felt dead at times. Just he was stuck underwater, unable to breathe. Sometimes he wondered what it would be like just to drift away. But Harper had said something that stopped him. It made him think a lot, and he rolled the idea of suicide around in his mind un-surely. Before, he'd been sure death was exactly what he wanted. She'd changed that with a single off-handed comment.