Ordinary - (Dabi x OC)

Veracity (Part Two)

Akio POV:

If Takuto hadn't been so cunning, I might have stood a chance at being found.

I lived in such a small town where everyone knew everyone. It wasn't usual around there for kids to go missing, and I was well known among everyone, even the grocery store clerks. Maybe someone would have noticed my disappearance and searched for me.

But, the bodies and blood were gone from my house by the time forensic teams showed up that night. Midas, being two steps ahead, wrote a note to my school saying my family and I were moving to America for my father's work immediately.

I never realized until much later that Midas had placed a black jewel on the back of my skull when I ran away from him that night. The black jewel that manipulated my thoughts without me knowing, and ultimately had me walking right into the pit of my own downfall.

- Eighteen Years Ago Continued -

I should have ran straight to the police or heroes that night, but something in my head prevented me from doing so. Almost like a pulling control in my brain that commanded me with the repeating word of 'no, no, no.'

Instead, this same pull was telling me to leave my small town as soon as possible, ensuring no one saw me, and head east. What was in the east? I don't know, I'd never been anywhere else.

The thoughts didn't feel like my own.

I was too stunned and out of it to question things, quickly sneaking onto the red eye bus out of my town, in what I didn't realize would be for the last time.

Being only eleven years old and sheltered from the city my entire life, I didn't realize how everything cost money-including bus transportation. But, I quickly found out the hard way.

"No money. No ride, kid." The bus driver in Tokyo sneered at me the next morning, kicking me off the bus steps with his foot.

I fell backwards into a puddle of oil and mud, yet adults didn't blink an eye, stepping over me like I was a pariah.

Guess the rumors are true. City people are grumpier...

I watched the bus leave, wiping the oil and mud off my face as I quickly stumbled out of the honking street traffic. For the first time in my life, I was in the big city-also, for the first time in my life, I was alone.

Combine those with being eleven years old, and the situation usually doesn't end very well...

But, I was a fast learner. Or, at least, I tried to be. Walking and begging. Begging and wandering. I'd developed a habit of being in survival mode, and slowly began to lose sight of myself.

And I also began to lose sight of what happened that night. The night my life became cursed.

Every time I slept, it felt like there was someone in my dreams, poking around in places of my brain that they shouldn't and manipulating my memories.

I always had the same nightmare, and it started out how I remembered it at first. The dreaded man breaking into my home. My parents getting killed by the man. Endeavor arriving and standing over their bodies. Me running away.

But, slowly, the dream began to change, like someone was working my memories like puppet strings.

The dreaded man breaking into my home. My parents getting killed. Endeavor arriving and standing over their bodies. Me running away.