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

Issue 72 - Symbiote Surge

I woke up before my alarm.

Which, in my experience, is never a good sign.

I lay there staring at the ceiling of my dorm, blinking like my brain was still loading in. The Spider logo on the wall was out of sight from this angle, but I could still feel it somehow, like it had eyes too.

My eyelids felt like sandpaper. Not the Penelope kind. The annoying kind.

I rubbed my face hard enough to almost peel the skin off. "I'm not feeling it today," I whispered to nobody.

But my body already knew the deal.

Get up anyway.

"Brave new day," I muttered, like saying it out loud made it legally binding.

I rolled out of bed and dragged myself toward the bathroom, feet shuffling, hair doing whatever it wanted. I barely had the energy to be a person, and yet, apparently, I had signed up for the premium hero package with bonus trauma add-ons.

The mirror caught me and I looked... fine. Too fine. Like the outside hadn't gotten the memo that everything inside was a tangled mess.

I grabbed my toothbrush, slapped toothpaste on it, and then paused because the suit decided it wanted to be helpful.

A thin tendril slid out from under my sleeve, took the toothpaste like it was a tiny assistant on payroll, and neatly spread it across the bristles.

Another tendril wrapped around the toothbrush handle.

Then it started brushing my teeth for me.

I stared at my reflection, half asleep, mouth open while my own body performed dental hygiene like it was a scheduled program.

"...You know," I said through foam, "normal people just hate mornings. They don't get possessed by their own toothbrush."

The tendril brushed harder like it was offended.

I rinsed, spit, and wiped my mouth, then leaned on the sink with both hands. My eyes were droopy, the kind of droopy that made you feel like gravity was winning.

"Alright," I sighed. "Uniform."

I held my arms out.

The black suit rippled up my torso and over my shoulders, smooth as ink poured into shape. It formed the U.A. uniform in seconds. Crisp, clean, perfect fit. Only problem was the color.

It was almost normal. Almost.

Just slightly darker. Like someone had left the saturation slider a little too low.

I stared at myself. "That never gets old."

The suit pulsed like it agreed. Or like it was proud of itself. Which was somehow worse.

I left the bathroom and headed downstairs, the dorm quiet in that early-morning way where everyone is either asleep or pretending they're asleep to avoid being perceived.

That peace lasted exactly three seconds.

The common area was already alive. Loud voices, chairs scraping, someone laughing like they were paid per decibel. It was like the universe looked at my mood and went, oh you wanted calm? adorable.

I poured cereal into a bowl. The cereal sounded like tiny rocks hitting plastic. I added milk, sat at the table, and started scrolling my phone with the dead-eyed focus of someone watching their own life through a security camera.

Across the room, people were talking over each other.

Kaminari was being Kaminari, which is less a personality trait and more a natural disaster. Kirishima was hyping something up with both hands moving like he was trying to conduct an orchestra. Aoyama was doing... whatever Aoyama does in the morning, probably shining.