Compulsive

Chapter 27

Natsu avoided everyone as much as possible in the following days. Especially Lucy.

He was having a hard time, to say the least. He'd lost people before—you'd think he'd be a pro at this. You'd think losing another person—a friend—wouldn't hurt as badly. You'd think, in comparison to his family melting into nothing, watching his friend die by her own hand wouldn't be as horrible.

But it was just as terrible. The pain only added together, making everything worse.

Ever since his parents, his brother and his friend died in the fire, Natsu valued life beyond anything else. His family had lost everything—their bodies, their lives, the chance to do more. So watching someone he cared about—and yes, as much as he had tried to fight having friends, Mira was exactly that—ultimately choose the path of destruction, yeah, that stung. Watching Mira voluntarily starve her body of what it needed, watching her body whittle down to practically nothing...it appalled him. Watching her die because of the decisions she'd made, well, that just broke him completely.

As a kid, when he'd finally awoken from his coma, he'd begged and pleaded any sort of god or worthy being to bring his family back. He cried and sobbed, wishing someone would just bring them back, give them their bodies and their souls and forget the fire ever happened. He'd wanted to see his mom smile once more, watch his dad work on the car, watch his brother play soccer. He'd begged for their lives to come back.

And to watch all of these people just throw their lives away carelessly, not realizing how absolutely valuable living was? It fucked him up.

Yeah, Mira made some bad decisions. Mental illness does that to you—Natsu couldn't blame her. Everyone had issues, and Mira was dealing with hers. But to give up your body, give up your livelihood...for what? To look pretty?

She didn't look pretty dead. No one did.

It didn't matter what her issues were. Everyone had problems, things they wanted to overcome or deal with. Mira wanted to be pretty, and the only way her mind figured that was possible was if she weighed as little as she could. Lucy wanted to deal with her fucked up dad and her mother dying and everything else that hurt her heart, and the only way her brain could make sense of that pain was to slice and dice. Gajeel wanted to forget, and the only way he knew how was to saturate himself with coke or heroin or whatever he felt like that day. Everyone had a thing. And yeah, its super fucking hard to stop your mind from manipulating you into something. But when your life is on the line...

It tore him apart. His mom was dead. Dad, brother, childhood friend. Now Mira? One of the first people he'd let himself be relatively close to since the fire, and now she's gone?

Maybe he was cursed. Maybe it was him. It wouldn't surprise Natsu if everyone in his group at the facility dropped dead—that's his luck.

So, he fucked off. He avoided everyone and everything. He didn't go to the funeral. Even a few days after Mira passed and everyone went back to following their schedules for the day, Natsu didn't. He didn't go to breakfast, he didn't go to see Juvia.

He hid.

Natsu locked himself in some janitor's closet, sitting beside some rank broom and mop. There weren't any lights and it was dark but he didn't care, because his mind was spinning and nothing made sense. He hid in there and cried, because all of a sudden memories of the fire came rushing back, hitting him with full force.

His mom was screaming and he could smell burnt skin, burnt hair, burnt everything. Flames licked up against his flesh, singing his arms and his stomach; he screamed out in fear, in pain. He called out for his brother.