Chapter Text
Running. Running was the only option, smears of blood going down from his left cheek to his collarbone only to pool in there before shivering movement made it finally drop and stain his dirty grey shirt. Tears mixing slowly with the red liquid as he just realised what he'd done, he'd killed somebody...no matter how unimportant, gruesome, disgusting that human was there still layed a story build over year and years behind the deplorable outer layer of his life, and he, desperately ended that story today.
Self defence is something he doesent even know of, he didn't know it was fair that he protected himself, he didn't know he was not guilty, the only thing he knew at the moment was that he had to run, run far away from this, if he was already a murderer then becoming selfish and cowardly would not be a worse feat...
He moved away from the lifeless body, for a young boy the strength that came from him was stunning....almost frightenin...after all he *is* the strongest, no...*they* were the strongest...
"Who...was that again....?" He thought, wondering why at a moment like this one such a repulsive memory unfolded in his mind...maybe because he, once again, saw a dead body, just like that time. . .
As he was sloppishly sprinting, almost limping like a newborn deer who didn't know what to do, going through dangerous alleys and clearly unnapropriate places for him to be in seemeded to appear as the least of his concern.
Bumping into boxes, tightly spaced shortcuts and getting into dead ends didn't do him any favours, it's not like he knew where he was going, but he also wasn't wondering about and looking for places, he was just...running, with no planned ending, no planned home to return to, no planned nothing...just running. It was almost like he wanted, in a never-ending circle of passages for there to be an ending, an ending especially fitting for him, he didn't want to search for that ending, he wanted to *find* it. To feel...alive.
Of course there wasn't such an ending, he would just run forever like this for the rest of his life with nothing holding him back and with nothing to look forward to. The only thing that was differentiating all the moldy brick walls, dark alleys and tangled walkways was a standing figure...no, there were two, the difference was that the standing one was alive, the one collapsed on the ground was dead. A similar scenario to his, but this man wasn't hurrying up to leave his crime scene, after all in such a secluded area where even police officers were hesitant to check up why would anyone try to cover it up.
But, he, didn't know any of that, he barely knew where he was. And, that "he", was none other then the one and only, "chosen one"- Gojo Satoru...