DARK RED [ITADORI Y.]

―XV. ICKS

CHAPTER XV. JUST GIVES ME THE ICKS.

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"THIS place looks..."

We stood before a set of rusting gates. The metal was worn down by the weather and age and looked as if it would fall apart just by a single huff from one of us. Vines and vegetation covered the stone pillars on either side, extending up the side of the two-story building. The once red paint had chipped and peeled off, leaving the white coat under it to show through in different places. Most of the windows were broken, probably from vandalism rather than the weather. It looked like some old institution or school of some sort, shut down decades ago. Both of us jumped as a bird suddenly flew out of one of the broken windows.

"...rough,"

"Just a little," Itadori muttered, looking down at his phone. "It says this place was the old mental hospital. It got shut down 13 years ago."

"I wonder why," I asked, reaching forward to push the gate open. We winced at the loud creak that came with it. 

"It doesn't say," Itadori said, pocketing his phone. "But I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"Yeah,"

"Itadori-kun, L/n-chan," Ijichi called, making us both turn back to look at him. He stood by the car, his hands folded in front of him. "Please be careful inside."

"We will!" We both called in unison, throwing him a thumbs up. We laughed after realizing we had done the same thing.

We trekked through the knee-high grass, reminding each other to check for ticks whenever we got back home, before arriving at the front doors. We could easily see inside, seeing that the glass in the doors had been broken a long time ago, just a few pieces sticking out here and there.

"Well?" I said, nudging Itadori. "Go on!"

"What?" He exclaimed. "I don't wanna go in first!"

"You're the one with more experience!" I retaliated.

"You like spooky stuff!" He said. "I don't!"

"Who the hell said I like spooky stuff?" I said, pointing to myself. "You're the one who knows what you're doing!"

Itadori huffed at me. I gave him a little push, moving him towards the door. He glared at me lightly over his shoulder and I motioned to the door. Sighing, he pulled his sleeve over his hand and knocked the rest of the glass from the door. He made sure there were no jagged spots before climbing inside, waving for me to follow him.

When I stepped inside, I stood behind him, looking around. Our steps echoed off the empty walls, spiraling down the hall. There were still some things leftover--a rotating chair, a stripped desk, and a table that have caved in through the middle. Light poured in from the shattered windows, illuminating the room, and allowing us to see where we were walking.