•Manipulation• [BNHA × Male!OC]

Chapter 29: Pomeranian POUND TOWN

So there we were, face to face.

I stared down his scarlet eyes, the crowd dipped into a hushed whisper that seemed to swirl like a mist around us.

The tension was thicker than Bakuhoe's stellar double Ds and honestly it was suffocating.

The brief silence before Present Mic called for the start of the match felt like days.

The gravel crunched under his feet as he scooched one back. I gripped my fists in turn.

"AAAAAND BE-"

*BEEEEELLLLCCCHHHH*
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Yet another silence.

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Except there was no damn tension.

I'd already released it via a sacred wind jutsu out my mouth...

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In the form of a supersonic burp.

"Damn, I knew I shouldn't have had that third cup of bubble tea..." I muttered, patting my upset stomach.

Kacchan seemed to blow a fuse.

"YOU BAS-"

"AALLLLLRIGHT!! WITHOUT FURTHER ADO...!" Present Mic quickly yelled over the boy which seemed tough even for the kingpin of screaming. "BEGIN!!!"

There was a brief pause, as though he were waiting for my move. I didn't, couldn't risk the delicious tapioca balls coming back up.

I heard a faint crackle and smelt a wisp of smoke. For a second it felt as though someone had lit firecrackers...

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Nope, just the firecracker in front of me that goes by Katsuki Bakugou.

He flew at me with such speed I'd barely ducked in time, doing a sweet-ass matrix dodge. In doing so, my fingers were pressed perfectly onto the floor, allowing me to liquify the ground he landed on, trapping him. "YOU-!"

I sauntered over and grinned. "Thought you said you were gonna wi-"

*BOOM*

'ah, should've seen that coming.'

I leap back, wiping the rubble from my face as he clawed himself out of the hole he blasted in the concrete. "DON'T TAUNT ME!" He yelled, flying at me again, low as usual

"C'mere big guy!" I yell as I leap up, barely avoiding his left hook.

'Wait, left...?'

Yep, left.

A small puff of smoke rose from below me and next thing I knew, the pomeranian was face to face, right hook aimed at my face.

"Fuc-"

I managed to barely block the heavy hit with my left forearm, but the edge of his fist still dug into my jaw. It was enough to send me tumbling to a side.
I clawed my fingers into the ground to slow myself down while forming a barrier between me and the boundary line. It wasn'5 a very pleasant stop, knocking the wind out of me. I coughed and tasted iron.

'damn, if only I could manipulate that damn sweat of his...' But that was impossible, it involved keeping skin to skin contact with the bucking bull, skin that he could burn off whenever he so chose.