"Y/N? We saw the news, we are worried sick. We called as soon as we saw but your phone didn't- whatever, are you okay dear?"
"Yes mom, sorry 'bout the phone, it broke. My boss gifted me another though."
"I'm so relived dear... And, about that... why are you working for him? You know that if you need money me and dad - we can always lend you an hand. Aren't your studies more important?"
"Don't worry mom. It's what you two wanted right? I got a real job."
"...Y/N"
"Come on, don't let your client wait."
And with an slightly irritated tone, I closed the call.
"Woah, you got the nurturing type."
"It's merely what she shows."
"I know, I was making fun of you."
I was too tired to even answer my guide.
Other people called that morning. My friends, they asked if I was alright and when I would come back at school.
Nice question.
But the truth was, that even at school I was a hopeless case.
I failed so many exams.
As absurd as it may sounded, I was closer at achieving my dream by being Endeavor's secretary.
Also, it made my parents happy.
Don't let them fool you. They hated my dream since the very beginning.
When I was little, they always told me that our family had to watch in the sidelines, because our quirk was simply inadequate for that kind of aspiration.
My mother was always the most dissuasive of the two.
"What's that, Y/N? Oh, it's a little bird. It fell from the nest? You're such a good kid."
I loved my mother. And I hated her.
And often, it felt like that rift would be my doom.
My father was a quiet one. But in his gaze, I always saw a lot of sorrow.
He simply didn't have it in him to lie.
So one night, he took me in the garden.
He watched me straight in the eye and told me:
"You'll never be a hero."
Those cold words cut like sharp air.
That's it. He never talked to me again.
I mean, we still said "hi" and "goodbye" to eachother. But never anything too meaningful.
I didn't know how to feel about my father.
"I'm going."
"Finally."
My guide launched itself on the couch, with a laptop on their knees.
"Isn't that... My twitter?"
"Uh? Yes. I can't make my account."
"Just - don't retweet anything strange."
"Suuure."
I gave them a glare.
I closed the door.
At the agency, I had to briefly meet my boss in the office.
The damage from the day before was still there, as it was my job to fix it.
I greeted the fire giant with an upbeat tone.
"Good morning boss! Here's your black coffee. strictly without sugar!"
He picked up the coffee, drinking it while I stood there with a stupid smile.
"... What?"
"Nothing. It's just. A sugarless black coffee. It's so... Endeavor-like!"
"... Just get to work."
He dumped the paper cup in the trash and left off to duty.
I called a cleaner and a glazier, and in about an hour the office was as good as new.
Then I just sat at Endeavor's seat, taking a look at his desktop.
"Oh god."
The icons were all scattered, the hero seemed to never have heard of folders. And the PC was behind a lot of updates.
This man was a total boomer.
I chuckled. I gave myself the liberty to organize his poor computer and make some updates.
Not the easiest of tasks, it actually took me at least half an hour away.
On my quest, I stumbled upon the only folder the caveman ever made. Odd.
What was even more dissonant, was the name of the folder.
"Family"
As if it was the only thing he put effort into preserve.
Digitally.
"Uh. I probably should leave this as it is."
"..."
"..."
"... But I mean... it's not like he's gonna know if I give it a little peek-"
What do they say? Right, curiosity killed the cat.
But I was a moth, so I opened it.
"... Only one photo? Well, since I am this far."
I clicked on it.
"Oh... cute. It's a kindergarten entrance ceremony. His son looks adorable, his wife gorgeous, and he-"
It took some time for the realization to sink in.
My boss, Endeavor, wasn't wearing his usual flame mask.
For reasons out of my comprehension, I simply couldn't keep my eyes off him.
I was intoxicated in admiring his face like it was an oil painting, rich of details.
Now I could see his toned traits, like his defined chin and jaw.
Without his blinding fire, his crimson hair pop out even more, a perfect match for his turquoise eyes.
But maybe the true nail in the coffin were the little things - his unkept beard, his slightly hooked nose, they all gave him an husky appearance that, In all honesty, I could barely stand.
"... Beautiful."
My awe was short lived as the sound of the double door opening brought me back to reality.
I rose up from the seat as fast as I could, and there he stood with eyes that could pierce steel.
My boss's voice sounded like thunder.
"What's the meaning of this?"