Ultra Responsibility (My Hero Academia X Spider-Man Reader)

Issue 43 - Rekindle

The walk home felt like someone had turned the world's brightness down.

Not night, not quite. Just... dim. Like Tokyo had pulled a hoodie over its head and decided it couldn't be bothered today.

I kept mine up too, hands jammed into my pockets, school bag slung heavy over one shoulder. Every step was this quiet argument between my brain and my chest.

Keep your head down.
Keep moving.
Don't look at anyone too long.
Don't let anyone look at you.

I'd almost convinced myself I could make it home without anything happening.

Then the street screamed.

"Help me! Someone, please help me!"

My feet stopped before my thoughts caught up.

The voice was thin, trembling, the kind that cracked in places like it'd been dropped too many times. I turned the corner and my stomach folded in on itself.

Three idiots. Too old to still be doing this. Too young to look tired of it. One had her wrist pinned, the other was yanking her bag like it owed him money, the third stood a little back like a referee, watching the pavement for witnesses.

The girl's eyes were wide, wet, darting around like she was searching for a miracle that had gone missing.

And it hit me, that awful realisation people were pretending wasn't happening yet but it was.

With All Might detained, with pros stretched thin, with the city's faith wobbling like a loose tooth, little crimes were getting bold.

The poor part of town was always a breeding ground for this stuff, but now it felt... encouraged. Like the street had smelt weakness and decided to feast.

My instincts screamed.

Not a thought. Not a suggestion. A command.

Move. Help. Now.

My fingers clenched around the strap of my bag until it bit into my skin.

I could do something.

I could do plenty.

Even without the suit. Even without the web shooters. Even with all my gear locked away in evidence bags somewhere.

I could still move. Still fight. Still save her.

I swallowed, and my throat felt like sandpaper.

"I can help her..." I muttered under my breath.

And then, like a cruel echo from my own head:

"This is your problem, Y/N."

The girl called out again, voice breaking.

"Save me!"

My legs twitched.

My shoulders rose.

My weight shifted forward.

And then... I didn't.

I turned away.

I hate that I turned away.

The choice happened in slow motion, like watching myself in a window reflection and being unable to reach through the glass. I told myself a hero would come. A pro. A patrol. Somebody with a license and a badge and permission to be brave.

They always do.

They always...

I'm Spider-Man no more.