( It didn't feel like them dying would fix anything.

It scratches something in his brain, some unthought idea, some terrible conjecture. Geto shies away from it almost immediately, fixes his attention on Gojo instead, on the way his voice sounds, on how terrible it is. He doesn't even think before he's drawing him closer, wrapping the pair of them up until they're entangled under the blankets, Geto's chin on top of his skull, and a hand splayed against his spine, knees knocking. )

I told her we'd save her. ( His pulse flutters sickly. ) And he shot her. But even then it didn't feel like the worst thing, you know? Because I didn't understand. How he was there. It wasn't until he said that you -. ( He thinks he's shaking, buries his hands against his friend to try and soothe some of it out. ) - all I kept thinking was that it wasn't fair. Why was it us? Why is it always just us?

( He presses his face into snowy-white hair, his next words coming mumbled. )

I don't want you to die for anyone else, Satoru. I don't want your life wasted on something we don't even have a say in. I don't want to do it anymore.