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

Issue 73 - Date

I didn't realise how quiet a hospital room could be until you're sitting in it with someone who isn't answering.

Peni's room had a rhythm to it. A soft beep. A gentle hiss. The kind of noises that pretend they're calm but really just count seconds like a threat.

I pulled the chair closer to her bed and sat down like I belonged there, like I wasn't an intruder in the most fragile moment of her life.

"Hey, Pen," I whispered, because saying "Peni" out loud still felt like it should make her look over and roll her eyes at me. "It's me. Obviously."

Nothing.

Her face was wrapped up, bandages like someone tried to neatly erase what happened. The IV line was taped down like it was trying to hold her in place. Like if the nurses didn't secure her hard enough, she might slip away.

I stared at her for a long time before I realized my hands were clenched in my lap so tight my knuckles had gone white.

"Okay," I exhaled. "So, uh... I'm gonna talk. You don't have to do anything. Just... be there. Like you always are."

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees.

"I got told off today. Again. Which is kind of impressive, because I feel like I've speedrun every version of 'adult disappointment' in the last month."

Still nothing.

And I hated myself for the small relief I felt when the room stayed quiet. Because quiet meant I could say it all without seeing her expression.

I looked down at my wrists. The suit wasn't out. Not fully. It was behaving, tucked under my uniform like a secret. But I could feel it anyway, like a second heartbeat pressed right under my skin. Like a shadow that never left, even when the lights were on.

"I haven't told anyone this," I murmured. "Not really. Not the whole thing."

My eyes flicked to her face, like she could catch me lying even in a coma.

"It's not just... a suit. It's some kind of weapon. Government, black ops, sci-fi nightmare. I stole it. I literally just took it, and then I started wearing it like it was a hoodie."

I let out a weak laugh that died immediately.

"I didn't even stop to ask where it came from. Who made it. Why it was there. Who wore it before me."

My throat tightened around the next part.

"I've been getting... flashes. Dreams that don't feel like dreams. Like I'm living inside someone else's skin for a few seconds."

I swallowed hard.

"Eddie Brock. That name keeps showing up. And Anne Weying. I found her online. I found a photo. Then it vanished. Like somebody reached through the internet and wiped it clean."

I leaned back in the chair, staring at the ceiling like it might have answers written in the tiles.

"I don't know what that means. I don't know if it's the suit doing it, or if... I don't know. Something else. But it feels like there are other people in my head sometimes."

The words tasted disgusting.

"Not voices exactly. Not like... hearing things. More like... pressure. Like someone's hand on the back of my neck steering."

I rubbed my face, palms dragging down my cheeks.

"And the worst part? I keep telling myself it doesn't matter."

I looked at Peni again, and the guilt hit so sharp it felt like a needle under the ribs.

"It should matter. It's my body. My life. My choices. But every time I get close to actually digging into it, something happens. A villain attack. A disaster. Another person getting hurt. And then I'm like, cool, guess we'll unpack the 'mystery goo suit' later."