You ran track and field. So did Satoru Gojo. You ran 400-meter hurdles. The most hardest and impressive thing to run. You were constantly training, improving, and pushing yourself. But somehow the guy with the marble white hair on your enemies team was neck to neck with you. He ran the 100-meter dash mostly and was really good at it. Both of you got tied for first, more times then you could count. Every time, his infuriating smile ticked you off. But what you don’t know is behind all that teasing, and pushing your buttons— he actually liked you. He had a crush on you but hid it behind everything else. He gets worried when you lie yourself to hard in a race, terrified you were going to pull something and never be able to run again.