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

54 - Answers and Antics

The hallway to Dad's hospital room was brighter in the mornings. Something about the sun leaking through the tall windows and the faint smell of antiseptic made the place feel less like a ward and more like a place where people healed.

I knocked twice on the door before letting myself in.

He was awake, sitting up with the bed tilted at an angle, trying to poke at a tray of hospital food like it had personally offended him.

"That stuff won't surrender just because you glare at it," I said.

He looked up and brightened instantly. "Kiddo!"

"You look better."

"Better than the gelatin cube on this plate, that's for sure." He pushed the tray aside with dramatic disgust. "What brings you here this early?"

I hesitated. "I... needed advice."

His smile softened, and he patted the side of the bed. "Of course. Sit. Lay it on me."

I sat down and looked at him—really looked. Even tired, even worn down, he had that same warmth in his eyes. The one that said he'd listen, even if he didn't have all the answers.

"It's about..." I swallowed. "Love."

He blinked. "Oh. Oh."

"Yeah."

"As in..."

"Yes."

"With..."

"Multiple people."

His eyes widened. "I knew it! I KNEW Kaminari was flirting too much—Wait, MULTIPLE?"

I laughed despite myself. "Dad."

He dragged a hand down his face. "I thought villains were scary. This is worse."

"You dated someone once, right?"

"Once? Kiddo, I was a public figure! I got fan mail in perfume and packages with glitter bombs. But... real dating? I was too busy running off to fight crime. I didn't have time to figure out what love really felt like."

He tilted his head. "But I know this—if someone makes you feel seen, makes you laugh when you want to cry, makes you want to be better without demanding you change... that's love worth chasing."

I nodded slowly. "They all do, in their own ways."

"Then the trick is figuring out who you can build with. Who steadies you. Who challenges you in the right way. And who makes the world quieter just by standing next to you."

He reached over and held my hand. "No pressure. But just know, whoever you choose? They'll be one lucky little punk."

I laughed again, blinking back the sting in my eyes. "Thanks, Dad."

He wagged his eyebrows. "Just don't tell Bakugo I said that. He already walks around like he invented oxygen."

After leaving the hospital, I headed straight back to the dorms. There was one more thing I had to do before making any decision.

I needed my friends.

Jirou was in her room, half-asleep on a pile of lyric sheets and tangled earbud cords.

"Love advice?" she asked, sitting up. "From me?"

"You're good at reading people. And not bullshitting."

"Fair."

She scooted over to make room for me and plucked a cord out of her hoodie.

"Okay. Spill. Who's the lucky—wait. Plural?"

"Plural."

She let out a long whistle. "Damn. And I thought I had complicated feelings."

"You do."

"Touché."

I told her everything—about the rooftop with Bakugo, the stairs with Izuku, the field with Kirishima, the dance with Mina, the silence with Shoto, the tea with Denki, and the night with Uraraka.

She stared at me. "So basically, you've become the star of a romantic shoujo drama and forgot to invite me to watch?"

"Sorry."

"No, I'm proud of you. Honestly, though? Here's the thing: being wanted by a bunch of incredible people is flattering, sure. But you have to ask yourself who makes you feel like you."

I nodded.

"Pick the one who makes you feel like music."

Leave it to Jirou to phrase it that way.

Yaoyorozu was next.

I found her in the study lounge, surrounded by color-coded notes and three reference books opened at once.

"Love dilemma?" she asked as I approached.

I nodded.

She closed her book instantly. "Then I shall give it my full attention."

"You don't have to stop studying—"

"Love is a subject worth studying," she said seriously.

I explained my situation. Her face didn't show shock, just calm, thoughtful processing.

"I think it's natural to feel conflicted," she said after a moment. "Romantic affection is... complex. More so when multiple people offer you different but equally meaningful versions of it."

"Exactly."

"I suggest you make a list of how each person makes you feel. Not pros and cons, but... adjectives. Safety, excitement, joy, peace. See which emotions repeat."

That was the most Yaoyorozu advice I could have received.

"And remember," she added, smiling gently, "choose the person who inspires your best self—not your perfect self."

Iida was in the common room, practicing a speech in front of a mirror.

"Uh, hey," I said. "Got a second?"

"Always!"

I told him everything.

He blinked. Once. Twice. Then turned pink to his ears.

"That is... quite the emotional conundrum!" he declared. "Romance is not my area of expertise, but... I shall do my best!"

He paced twice, then stopped.

"You are a remarkable person. It is no wonder so many have found themselves drawn to your spirit. But what matters most is your happiness. Mutual respect. And emotional growth."

"That was... actually very wise."

"I read a book."

Sero was in the lounge, making a chain of tape flowers for no reason whatsoever.

"Romantic crisis? Count me in."

I sat. He leaned forward like he was listening to the juiciest gossip.

When I finished, he let out a low whistle. "Damn. You've got options."

"That's not helpful."

He laughed. "Okay, okay. Here's what I think: the right one will be the person who makes you feel like you can breathe. Not the one who makes your heart race—though that's nice too—but the one who makes you feel like you're already home."

I blinked.

"What? I can be deep."

"That was... beautiful."

"I contain multitudes."

That night, I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. Everyone had given me a piece of the answer.

Dad with his warmth.
Jirou with her poetry.
Momo with her logic.
Iida with his sincerity.
Sero with his unexpected depth.

And now, it was my turn.

I closed my eyes.

And the answer came.

Clear as the stars outside my window.