Version A | Boku No Hero Academia Reader Insert

XIV

The first thing I was greeted with when I went home was my parents' arms being flung around me and the sound of heavy sobbing from my mother and whimpering from my father. 

"You did it! You did it, I can't believe it." I noticed my mom's voice was hoarse. My dad placed a hand on my good shoulder and wiped his eyes, looking at me with the biggest smile I'd ever seen, maybe even larger than All Might's.

"Kiddo, you got it. You ranked top three, and I couldn't be more happy or proud of you. Your mother was screaming inside all day while she watched you compete and fight. She lost her voice, which is unfortunate," he chuckled, kissing his wife on the forehead, and looked back at me, teary expressions lacing his features. "I can't express it in words. I just want to go to the top of a cliff and yell 'My kid won!' You know?" He gave a loud laugh and sniffed, rubbing his nose. 

"I didn't win." My voice was quivering as I said it, lip curled up in disgust. "But I didn't win. I didn't because I don't have an advantage. I don't have that confidence, that determination, that drive! A quirk! And I'm not saying it's your fault, it's just that..." I gasped for air, my throat closing up.

"If I just tried a little bit harder, if I pushed myself like a real hero, I would've made it. I would've made it to second place. I can, I-I can..." Soft coughs started to fly out of my mouth, a burning sensation coming to my nose. 

"Can I? Can I still be a hero?" This felt so familiar. Hopelessness. 

"Even if I'm so pathetic," I spat, crunching my fingers against my palms. "I want to be one, I want to show everyone everything I have to offer. But just like that, because someone has something I don't, it's gone. My work is gone, everything is gone, like dust in the wind." 

"Honey." My mom placed a gentle hand on my head, holding it close to her. "It's hard. We wouldn't know, but we do know that it's hard to be a hero. As for us..." My dad clasped my hand and softly murmured to me. 

"We sure are proud to be your parents (Y/N)." 

Somehow, every thought faded away, melting into a big puddle on the floor, flushed down a drain. This warm feeling spread across my face, up to my ears, down to my feet, pooling in my chest. Suddenly, tears started to well up in my eyes.

Proud to be your parents.

I started to cry, blown away by my father's touching words, tears flowing steadily down my rosy cheeks, my hands coming up to wipe them away, chest heaving with sobs. Someone was proud although I wasn't. How could I have been so blind to not even see that they were watching at home, to cheer me on? It was a tender moment, one that didn't usually happen often in this house. 

"Thank you Dad, Mom. I love you so much."

__

"Wait! (L/N) (Y/N), right? You did such a good job in the UA Sports Festival! Congrats on getting third place!" I smiled awkwardly and thanked them, clasping my hands together subconsciously, not expecting people to gather around and ask for pictures and point out who I was, congratulating me. 

The feeling of guilt had long been scrubbed away by a hot, home-cooked meal by my parents, and lots of hugs and kisses from them, no matter how much I tried to squirm away as a joke. 

"Yeah, thank y-"

"You might all think that (L/N)'s so great, but they treated their opponents like trash." I noticed a person in the crowd who had their arms crossed, smirking. They had a black bowl-cut, messily done, a white shirt covered with a green plaid robe, sandals and socks, and droopy eyes accompanied by these large, fat lips and a very round, pressed down nose.