Strings (BNHA x OC)

100 || Grief

—Four Hours Later 7:23pm—

Mr. Compress' P.O.V.

There was a loud crash and thud from up on the second floor. I could tell everyone else down on the first floor heard it too by the way we all looked up at the ceiling. That was Puppet, no doubt.

"She's awake." Toga said.

"Well what's wrong with her?" Twice asked.

I stood back up straight from leaning against the kitchen counter. "I'll go check."

——

I got up the stairs and walked down the hallway to the door of Puppet's room. I reached out, turning the handle and slowly opening the door.

The room was trashed, the bed thrown against the wall and the nightstand overturned. The shattered porcelain remains of a decorative vase were in the middle of the floor.

I compressed my cane and slipped the small marble into my pocket before opening the door all the way and stepping into the room.

Puppet was standing in the room, her back to me, her posture stiff and her shoulders tense. It was quite ominous. I noticed that resting on the overturned nightstand was her mask.

"Puppet?" I asked carefully. Her fuse was probably extremely short right now, anything could set her off.

"Hawks is gone." She said, her voice broken.

'Gone? What does she mean by gone?' I questioned, 'He left? No. He wouldn't be so foolish as to leave of his own accord.'

I walked over to her, the porcelain shards of the shattered vase crunching under my boots.

"He fought tooth and nail for me.." She muttered. "He fought fucking tooth and nail, Atsuhiro."

I didn't know how to respond. This was beyond my knowledge. "I.."

She turned and picked up her mask from the nightstand. She stared at it in her hands for a moment, then she faced the wall and started to wind her arm back into a throwing motion. I quickly grabbed her wrist, knowing she would regret it if the mask broke. I halted her action with my firm hold on her.

"Let go!" She snapped, trying to pull away.

I was taken aback by her rudeness. This wasn't the Puppet I knew. The Puppet I knew was calm and collected, and at times overly full of herself. She was never like this, never emotionally driven.

"No." I responded firmly. "I know you'll be distraught if that mask breaks, that's not just my imagination talking."

She fell silent.

I reached over and slowly took her mask from her hand. She allowed it, her grip slackening so that I could take it. I loosened my grip, but kept her wrist in my hand. Slowly, I bent down and placed her mask back on the toppled nightstand.

When I released her wrist from my grasp, Puppet fell back against the wall, using it for support. She slid her back down the wall until she was sitting on the floor with her knees pulled up near her chest. Her hands gripped into her hair and she strongly but shakily exhaled.

I went over and settled down on the floor next to her. She didn't even move, didn't even look up at me.

I reached over and gently took her arm, coaxing her closer to me. She allowed it, just letting me guide her into a hug. I wrapped my arms around her and she leaned onto me, resting her head on my shoulder. Whatever kind of mental breakdown she was having right now, I simply couldn't bring myself to leave her to fall apart all alone.