My Stressful Academia (bnha x male reader)

Last day of school

Unfortunate as it might be, this isn't a world where everyone is born equal. Ever since quirks started showing up, at least. The thing is though, it's not always better to be born "better". All that means is you gotta do way more than you'd like, because you got lucky enough to be the only one capable of it.

It was the last day of middle school. I stare down at my high-school forms. What might be my picks, you ask? Well, the first that came to mind was a pretty nice school with a focus on liberal arts, and even had a full-blown course on writing fiction. Then I thought for another second, I remembered what everyone expected of me. To be a hero. I thought about how much my parents talked about my future as a big shot hero. The thought was enough to make my quirk flare up a bit. So, I took a deep breath and wrote down UA instead. After all, who doesn't wanna be a hero? Well, I'd probably be more excited if I had made the choice on my own.

My teacher cleared her throat, quieting down the classes chatter. "Well kids, it'd been wonderful teaching you this year. Now, I should hand out these future careers forms, but..." she suddenly throws them into the air, activating her quirk, causing them to explode like tiny fireworks. "I know all of you wanna be heroes anyway! So instead, let's, one by one, talk about what kind of hero you wanna be! After all, everyone's a hero in their own way!"

I chuckled at that. She was a good teacher, always keeping spirits high. The answers everyone gave weren't as funny, but still pretty funny.

"A rich one!" "The strongest one!" "The hottest one!"

"Now, what about you (Y/N)? With a quirk like yours, I'm sure you'll be able to go pro, but we all wanna know what kind of pro you'll be!" The teacher said, pointing right at me.

You stay quiet for a moment, then clench your fist, and said your answer, which I had been thinking about for quite awhile.

"I wanna be whatever kind of hero the world needs me to be."

The kid next to me, a friend of mine, chuckles. "Of course you'd say something all heroic like that, man! You dweeb! Just promise me you'll pick me up as your sidekick when we get older, alright?"

"Yeah, alright man," I say, snickering, "Whatever you say."

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I'm currently on the way home from school, taking some back routes to make the walk easier. I know it's been quite awhile since I lived in the US, but it's still hard to get used to a society where being driven everywhere is so much less common.

This route is pretty sketchy looking, but it's never failed me yet. Plus, there's some pretty prominent heroes in this general area. No way you'll get mugged or something.

I feel a hand grab my arm, and feel something press against my backpack, followed by a raspy and desperate sounding voice. "Do what I say, and you'll live! Don't make a sound!"

I stand corrected about that whole not getting mugged thing. I hold up my hands, quickly breaking into a sweat as I nod. God this is awful. What kind of future hero am I? Letting myself be mugged so easily... what a waste-

"Hey, turn your quirk off! I see that! Stop it before I kill you!"

I hadn't even realize my quirk was setting in. Of course it was! I don't think I've ever been this stresses out! The black markings form a bandit like mask around my eyes, spreading across my arms and onto my hand. "I-i can't control it! I'm not doing it on purpose!"

He growls. "Fine, then I'll just kill you right off the bat!" I feel the thing against my back start humming and warming up.

Alright, big hero moment, I got this. I suddenly flip around, swinging my hand to backhand strike him. He manages to backstep enough to avoid the strike, revealing his right hand is some sort of odd barrel, the inside glowing orange. My hand slams into the wall, breaking the concrete a bit and getting it lodged in the wall. Shit.