IMPOSTER SYNDROME 《BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA X READER》

A Composition of Grit

"Excuse me ma'am, what's today's date?"

"...Today's February first."

"Thank you!" You shout on your way out of the gym.

You take the crumpled UA pamphlet out of your pocket and unfold it. You officially have 25 and a half days until the UA entrance exam. Thats 25 days to make up for years of never having superpowers in order to compete against people who have been training to be heroes their whole lives. You were being overdramatic, but still— you doubt you could afford to slack off.

February 1st ♥︎ 10:32 AM

You stare at the graffitied wall of the abandoned building in front of you. You look left, right, then left again; you would probably get in serious trouble for destruction of property if you got caught. Even so, you're determined to figure out this power- or "quirk" you had.

You clench your dominant hand tightly, silently willing yourself to act, even though you know it's gonna hurt like shit. If you want to see if your quirk works on other parts of your body—or if you still even had one—you needed to punch the wall.

Because if your quirk only allowed you to head-butt people for it to work, you were choosing a different career path.

You let a deep breath in and out and refocus your attention to a small area of the wall. You reel your fist back, step forward, and slam your fist into the wall with as much strength as fifteen year old girl can muster.

There's a thunderous boom followed by a sharp gust of wind as dust flies into your eyes, mouth, and nose. You sputter on it for a few seconds until it clears, and you're left to gasp in shock at what you did.

"Damn..."

Where there used to be a brick wall there was now a hole taller than you. You gape at the damage; if you had to estimate, it would have to be at least 6 feet all around. You definitely couldn't do that before...but luckily for you, the building was pretty tucked away, because somebody definitely would have heard that otherwise.

A least now you know your quirk isn't just head-butting people.

You look left, right, then left again. You couldn't care less about the stinging in your wrist, you were definitely doing that again.

5:53 PM

You groan to yourself for what seems like to 500th time today. The wall of the building— around the size of a Walmart— was littered with six-foot-something holes each way you look. Somewhere along the line you had stopped counting, because what was the point? Every single hole was basically the same size!

On your second attempt, the hole was a few inches smaller than the first; which made perfect sense with your theory that your quirk become weaker over time.

On your third attempt, though, you could swear that the hole was bigger than your seconds attempts. You tried to brush it off as just being in your head.

On your fourth attempt in when things started to get confusing. This hole was not only bigger than your second attempt; it was bigger than your first!

You continued this process twenty-something more times until your knuckles were baked in blood, but you only ever got more confused. Each hole was different than the last in size, but all within a range of 6 or so feet.

You turn to look at the falling sun as the sky begins to fade into orange and pink hues, you have to admit that it was pretty nice being in the sun all day, just being able to focus on what you want to do. You would have said that it was a nice change of pace from your stressful high school life, but at least in high school they fed you. You suppose you should start heading back to the gym when your stomach starts growling at you and stand up to gather yourself.