“Hayami!”he shouts, and I push on.My legs are flying now, running of their own free will to the point where I don’t think I’d be able to stop even if I tried.
It’s him against me, and fuck if I’m going to let him win.He won that day in the pool.He won’t win this time.
Just as I think I might be able to outrun him, the trees thin out, and I come to a river.I only just manage to slow down so I don’t run headfirst into the water.
Fuck.
I turn, and there he is.He doesn’t even look out of breath.
“There’s nowhere to run to, Hayami,” he hollers.
I look all around.If I go left, he’ll pounce—same if I go right.
Fuck.
“Give up?”He’s stalking the ground, pacing like a lion before its prey, and somewhere deep inside, I feel the swell of something, a heat beginning to crawl up my insides.
“No!”I yell.
“There’s no point running,” he says calmly.
“Yes, there is,” I pant, my lungs still in overdrive.
“Not from me, there isn’t.”
I glare at him, wanting to argue and ask him how the fuck he would know, but then I look at his scars.Is he trying to run from the past that won’t let him forget?
“You can run from me, Hayami, but I’ll always catch you.”
I eye the water.
“Don’t,” he warns, and it’s enough.
Carefully, I step into the water, but I sense him move behind me.I try to run, but the surface is uneven and slippery, and I fall into the freezing depths.
“Shit!”
It takes him seconds to reach me as I scramble over the rocks, my hands numb, the cold attacking my body with sharp, razor-like teeth.
He grabs my arm.
“Get off me!”I scream.
“No,” he says.
He’s so cool, which annoys me more than him manhandling me.
“I said get the fuck off me!”I fall again, my hands sliding on the stones, the water tugging at my clothes.
“And I said no.”He manages to get in front of me and scoops me out of the water like I’m made of fresh air.I’ve no option but to cling to him as he wades through the river and gets us back onto the embankment.
As soon as his feet hit the ground, I thump his chest.
“Put me down!”I shout, sobbing now, my voice having lost all its urgency.
He does as I ask, but he doesn’t let me go.Instead, he holds me and dips his head.
“I’m not sure what you’re running from, Hayami,” he says, his voice low and gentle, no longer the angry growl I’m so used to, “but I don’t blame you.I’ve been running for the past fourteen years, and I’m still running.We’re all running from our past.”
