•Manipulation• [BNHA × Male!OC]

Prologue

"What do you remember?"

The same damn question every day.

'They act as though that would make me remember.

So stupid.'

"I remember falling," he mutters with a sigh, already used to the words that spill from his lips like the script of a b-rate movie he'd watched a thousand times. Hell it sure felt like the thousandth time he'd gone for these so-called therapy sessions.

Regardless, his recollections always began with the same scene. Anything further back and he'd hit a wall.

His first memory was the wind howling in his ears as it pressed against his body relentlessly, like some futile attempt to break the boy's fall while the streets begin to come into focus. He shuts his eyes, opting to lose himself in the descent. Somehow it isn't hard to swallow down the unease in his stomach.

'not like I can do anything about it...'

The doctor across the boy sighs, they're as sick of hearing this story as he is of saying it. Then again he couldn't quite blame them for their persistence, their cash cow was the one giving the orders after all.

"I stop falling somehow before Hawks swoops in," a gross oversimplification in the boy's case.

It was as though time had tripped and fallen out of it's eternal marathon. The instantaneous abscence of gravity caused the winds to cease, a numbing silence ensuing for all of a few seconds. Glittering lights now barely visible as he remained suspended, hanging on to less than a thread, quite literally. A star plucked from the sky.

Then the faint beating of wings.

He could barely process the feeling of arms around him as his eyes refused to stay open any longer.

At this point he's fiddling with the hem of his shirt as he pads his story with silence, making the minutes tick away. His half-lidded eyes flick onto the scowling doctor, neither of them hiding their discontent at the current situation.

"Then I think you know how it goes," he sighs as he leans back, the worn out arm chair letting out a groan of protest as the well-used back of the chair warps even more under his spine.

The doctor clicks his pen. Through the past year our main character had learnt it was a bad habit of the frustrated man. He'd click the thing like it was the escape key on a porn site and his mother had just gotten home. Our protagonist just learnt to block it out.

"Well then Ryo," he finally says the words the boy had been waiting to hear since he'd entered the room. "I'd say we are all done for today."

He flash the overworked man a half-assed smile as he hops out of the chair. "Good work today," Ryo throws over his shoulder as he practically flounces out the door.

What can I say, he was in a good mood.

After all, today was the day he'd see his good ol' "bird brain" again.

I wonder who that could be?

When the boy had first been placed under Hawk's wing, pure agitation would not be a strong enough description for what Ryo felt everytime the hero made some stupid pun or joke. He was in that edgey teen phase ya know? The boy just about wanted to stab himself at how lame his nee guardian was.

He did loathe him so, at first anyways.

Well in the end, I guess the hero still grew on him, emo tendencies and all.

'Besides, he did train me on my quirk and take me out for yakitori. How could I hate a guy who gave me free food?'

It had been a couple weeks since he'd seen Keigo, having been stuffed in the government facility in preparation to attend UA.