Our Last Dance

"May I Hold You?"

9 January 2020

And you're running as fast as you can, forcing air out your lungs and back in, with every inhale a bigger stride. You've run down five flights of stairs, taken a left and two rights so far. Your legs are getting weaker, your knees about to pop. It's difficult running from your school in school, you see. And you've been running for a good 30 minutes now. "My god, the calories I would've burnt." you bend over, hands supporting your knees, catching your heavy breaths. The sweat on your scalp has fallen to the floor, creating an artwork out of dots. Your mind has thought of too many things at once, that you can't think about anything else anymore. But all you know is the breathtaking spirit in you being released, and how beautiful the world is once you've broken out your shell. Things have been so stifling in your life lately, you just didn't think such an action would've broken the ice. You start to think about the future and how things would go if you run out of here. I might never get a job with this on my report book, you think to yourself.

"Y/n!!" it's him. You see his shadow following you, his footsteps getting louder by the second. "How does he know I'm here?!" you start to panic, looking around. Your legs are rooted to the ground, too tired to function. Immediately, you reach for the nearest stop. You glance around, noticing the eyes of other students dotting at you. You stumble abit, then race towards the gates of the school. Yes, another few meters more-

"y/n!" Itadori repeats, his voice cracked. But his voice is louder, and it makes your skin crawl. No, I can't face him, not now. You take a step forward, but it's not enough.

His hand has gripped onto yours, pulling you backwards. Already at your brink, your body motions back, unsteady. Oh, he's fast. And strong. Remarkably strong. Not like his scrawny body type, maybe I've predicted him wrong. When you look back, he's already staring at you, stars glistening in his eyes. His chest is moving out and back, he takes a few breaths before saying a simple "Stop running, please." But you can't. He doesn't understand. Nobody does. Nobody can ever understand the betrayal you've went through, or the heartbreaks, or the rumors about you. He knows absolutely nothing. You catch your breath, stabilising your pumping heartbeat. "Tell Mr Gojo I'm not coming back." you huff, eyes still on him. He has these magnetic eyes, an attractive stare. One you've never seen on any guy in this school. The boy releases your hand and raises an eyebrow. "Why?" he asks. 

WHYY?? Do I really have to explain everything to you, Itadori??

Your mind goes blank. Your mouth opens, but no words are formed. How do I answer to such a question?

"Aha!" the boy snaps his fingers. Right, I think he gets the hint-

"Because he dresses like a hobo?" 

Silence. Absolute silence. For a good ten seconds the both of you stand there, staring at each other. Suddenly, another voice awakens, scaring you. It's Hotaru, the class president. She's running to you. Your eyes dart to the gates, only halfway open. Right, if I run now-

Your legs move, but your body repels. "You can't go." Itadori's voice is shaky, hope in his eyes. For the first time, his pink hair doesn't stand  out too much. In your eyes, he's starting to look like a normal person again. He won't let go of your hand, and you know you have no strength in yourself to go further. Hotaru's voice hollows down the corridors, making you break in sweat once more. I can't. 

"I can't go back, I'm sorry-"

You turn your back towards him, but then...

You feel his warmth,

his body,

against yours.

"No I'm sorry for being a shithead to you just now!" he shouts. Why is he pleading?