|| She's Perfect || BNHA x OP! Reader ||

53 - Decisions, Decisions

It was quiet after curfew.

Dorm lights flickered dim behind closed doors. Outside, the breeze was cool and steady. Everything had settled since the Kamino fight. Since the rescue. Since Dad's secret had been revealed to the world.

But inside me?

Nothing was settled.

I was caught in the current of something bigger. Not just responsibility or duty, but emotion. Connection. Love, maybe—though I wasn't sure yet if that word fit. All I knew was that something had been growing with each of them. Something I couldn't ignore.

And I was running out of time to pretend it didn't matter.

Eijiro Kirishima found me first.

I was sitting under one of the trees behind Heights Alliance, legs tucked beneath me, fingers tangled in the grass. The night air was cool, and the stars blinked above like tiny sparks waiting to be lit.

"Yo," Kirishima said, plopping down beside me without asking.

"Yo," I echoed with a faint smile.

"Everything okay?"

"Just thinking."

"Dangerous hobby," he said, his usual grin tugging at his mouth.

I laughed, just a little. "Better than bottling it up."

He leaned back, bracing his hands against the ground and staring up at the sky. "You know, when we did the rescue mission... I kept wondering if I really belonged there. Everyone's got these epic quirks, right? I just get hard and punch things."

"But you're someone Katsuki trusts. That means everything."

He glanced sideways at me, serious now. "And I trust you. More than anyone."

The words sat heavy between us. Not awkward—just meaningful.

"You always make things feel solid," I said. "Like no matter what's falling apart, if you're standing next to me, I'll be okay."

"Then I'll keep standing there. As long as you want me to. You deserve that and so much more."

I looked at him. Not the bright grin or the loud laugh. Just the boy with red hair and the softest heart.

"You really mean that?"

He nodded. "I know I act tough, but you... you see me. Even the scared parts. The insecure parts."

"I like all of it," I said quietly.

He blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want to be another guy just making your life harder. I know you've got choices. Hell, half the dorm's practically in love with you."

I laughed again—genuine this time.

"I'm not trying to win a contest," he added, more serious. "But I needed to say it. That I feel something for you. And I'd never take it lightly."

He hesitated, then offered his hand.

I took it.

His grip was warm. Steady.

And suddenly, I didn't feel quite so overwhelmed anymore.

Izuku Midoriya caught me on the stairs later that night.

He was walking back from the common room, a steaming mug in one hand, his other in the pocket of his hoodie. Bandages peeked from under his sleeves like silent reminders of everything he'd fought through.

We froze when we saw each other—neither of us quite sure whether to speak or let the moment pass.

He took the first step.