Hiro didn’t ask to join this support group.

In fact, he found it.. not all that useful. After all, what was the point of hearing other people’s sob stories while he could be at home wallowing in his grief by himself? And it would be in the comfort of his own room, not in some hard, uncomfortable plastic chair. He was not looking forward to sitting in some uncomfortable chair for an hour and 30 minutes.

But here he was, sitting in a circle with other teenagers. Some were his age, some a couple of years younger, some 17 and 18. He didn’t need the anxiety of his turn coming to say his name and who he had lost in some freak accident on top of Tadashi’s death. He didn’t need this. It was all so stupid to him.