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

Issue 45 - Bump in the Night Part 2

Daredevil moved like he belonged to the rain.

Not in a dramatic way. Not in a "look at me I'm mysterious" way. More like the night had signed a lease in his name years ago and forgot to evict him.

We cut across rooftops, down fire escapes, through alleys that smelled like wet concrete and old oil. The city thinned out the farther we went, the buildings trading glass and neon for rust and graffiti. By the time we hit the docks, the air changed too. Salt, diesel, and something metallic that clung to the back of your throat.

A warehouse squatted at the edge of it all, half swallowed by fog and shipping containers stacked like giant Lego bricks that had lost the instructions.

I slowed, blinking rain out of my eyes. "Why are we here?" I asked, keeping my voice low. "Fisk is back in his penthouse having dinner like the final boss in a video game."

Daredevil didn't look at me, just watched the warehouse like he was listening to it breathe.

"This warehouse was abandoned a month ago," he said. "Then it started getting activity. Night shipments. Foreign crews. Quiet security. Wanna guess who's behind it?"

My attention snapped into place. "Okay," I muttered. "Now you have my full attention."

He nodded once. "So what do you think we do?"

I stared at the loading bays. Men moving stock. Pallets on forklifts. No uniforms I recognized, just dark jackets and caps pulled low. Too coordinated to be random dock workers. Too careful to be legal.

"We stake it out," I said. "See what Fisk is importing."

A corner of Daredevil's mouth lifted. "You catch on fast, kid."

I huffed, then the reality of my situation came crashing back in like a wave.

"And how am I supposed to do this?" I whispered. "I don't have my suit. I don't have my gear. If Fisk finds out I'm here... my aunt, my cousin..."

I didn't finish the sentence. I didn't have to. It lived in the space between my words like a loaded gun.

Daredevil finally turned towards me. Even with the mask, I could feel the weight of his focus. Like he was taking inventory. Like he was deciding whether I was going to break or bend.

"Don't worry," he said, calm as if we were discussing homework. "I've thought of that."

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a black balaclava.

Simple. Cheap. The kind of thing you could buy at a convenience store if you were either cold... or planning to be a problem.

He held it out.

"Blend in," he said. "No witnesses."

I stared at it like it was insulting me personally.

"A balaclava," I repeated. "That's your big plan."

"It's step one," he said.

I sighed and took it anyway, fingers cold against the fabric. "What am I supposed to call myself then?" I muttered as I tugged it down over my head. "Night Monkey?"

Daredevil's head tilted. "That could work."

I froze mid-adjustment. "That wasn't actually—" I groaned. "Never mind."

The balaclava squeezed my face, pressing damp hair to my forehead. My breath warmed the fabric over my mouth. I felt ridiculous. Like a teenager trying on adulthood and finding out it didn't fit yet.

I crouched behind a stack of containers with Daredevil beside me, eyes on the warehouse. Men were unloading crates with the kind of urgency that screamed illegal without ever saying the word.