Once again Geto feels stuck inside his own body. Weighed down by the rot of it, imprisoned inside of his bones. He wishes, futilely, that he could crack open his skull just to peer inside and divine his own real feelings. He doesn't know what he wants to say, nor if the things that queue up are the truth. He hates that he can't figure that out. )
Yeah. ( Lamely what he settles on, palm flat against Gojo's chest. ) But we have to, right? That's the point. There's no one else.
[ with a stubborn kind of insistence, leaning close enough to bump their foreheads together like that'll help make sure the words stick. ] People always wanna act like we signed on some kinda dotted line just by being born, y'know? And the geezers up at the top act like they can call the shots just 'cause that's the way it's always been.
I don't care about any of that stuff. [ sure, his view has shifted plenty since he first set foot in tokyo, but the core of it's the same. he likes being a sorcerer. he likes pushing himself to get stronger, discovering new ways to utilize his technique, finding that one-in-a-million opponent that offers up some kind of challenge. ] What do you want, Suguru?
( It's repetitive, it's dumb. He kind of hates it. )
I know what I'm supposed to say. I'm supposed to want to keep going, because it's my duty, because I'm one of the only people who can, and what else is there but doing your very best for the world around you? It's what's expected, isn't it? We have to save people. It doesn't matter what it costs. Anything else is selfish. But -. ( He twitches, like a flinch. It feels sacrilegious to say anything beyond what he has. ) - but I don't want to do it if I have to lose everything to keep going.
( He breathes, the gust of it against Gojo's cheek. The truth sits there between them, and Geto keeps his eyes closed. )
He told me you were dead. The sorcerer killer. He told me he killed you.
that's all it takes to bring it back -- the white noise of applause all around him, the weight of amanai's corpse in his arms, the detached certainty of connecting the fact that suguru isn't here with the knowledge that suguru would've never left her alone. ]
... yeah. [ and for once, his voice is small. ] When I found her, I --
I thought you were gone. And I -- [ he stumbles over it. not at the thought of confessing it to suguru, but at the idea that saying them aloud might turn that narrow brush into something real. ] ... it felt like nothing mattered anymore.
I thought about killing them. Everyone in that room. [ with a detached sort of unselfconsciousness, the way someone else might describe running an errand. ] But I couldn't even decide. It felt like they deserved to die, but it didn't feel like them dying would fix anything, and --
None of it meant anything if it meant I was stuck in a world without you in it, y'know?
(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.
[ suguru draws him closer, and satoru goes easily. melting against the lines of the other boy's body like it's something he was born knowing how to do, like the trick of fitting together is etched as deep inside him as his cursed technique. he throws an arm over suguru as the other boy curls into him, traces his fingertips up and down the broad plane of his back. ]
Okay. [ like it's easy, because it is. choosing suguru is the easiest thing in the world. ] Then we're not doing it.
[ having (freakishly) long arms comes with all kinds of benefits! like the way he can lean just a little and swat at the place suguru keeps his phone plugged in and charging on the desk next to his bed. then he's dragging it closer, unlocking it, squinting when the brightness of the screen washes over him, and tapping out something rapidly before suguru even gets the chance to protest.
after that? powering it off and tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder in the general direction of the bed. ] There. We're both off for the rest of the week. Won't kill 'em to sort out their own problems for a few days.
( Immediately he tries to scramble for it, but they're all entwined together and his heart isn't exactly in it. Instead he sinks back into the sheets, limbs heavy, voice mystified. ) I don't think we're allowed to do that, Satoru.
( It doesn't fix the problem anyway. Someone else has to take the load, someone else has to stand in his place. He just wishes it were simpler. He wishes he weren't afraid. There's something coming for him and he doesn't exactly know how to stand it down. )
Why not? [ with a snort, rubbing his cheek against the worn-soft material of suguru's shirt. ] What're they gonna do, lecture us?
[ ... he's also glossing over that last question, because if he spells out exactly how rude the text he just sent from suguru's phone was, it'll probably kick off a wrestling match for the phone. ]
Hey. [ bumping his forehead into suguru's shoulder. ] If Amanai told us that she didn't want to be the Star Plasma Vessel, would you have told her she had to? [ it's not really a question when he already knows the answer. ] Why's it only different when it comes to you?
( Small, and a little lost. He doesn't quite like remembering the hope on her face. ) She changed her mind. I told her we'd talked about it. We were so close to just turning around, Satoru. To getting out of there. But it is different. If I don't fight then they'll make you pick up my share of it, and that isn't fair either. You're exhausted, and we barely see each other now, and I keep telling myself it's fine because at least you're alive, and I'm helping. What if I didn't help? You're not actually a god.
( He lifts a hand, runs fingers through white hair. It isn't a criticism. )
there's a part of satoru that wishes he could put those words back, to make it so that he never heard them, because knowing hurts. it's a creature that digs into him with claws and teeth, trying to claw under the cage of his ribs to the most tender places below.
she didn't want to. they were going to turn around.
but they didn't, they couldn't, because satoru couldn't stop the sorcerer killer from getting through. and that's the root cause of all of this, right? suguru can't trust him enough to rest when he needs to and let satoru pick up the slack, because satoru let him down when it counted -- ]
I miss you too. [ and even muffled into the other boy's shoulder, there's no hiding the way his voice comes out thick and cracking. ]
He wishes they were still in Okinawa, back before all of this started, where things were simple and sweet and life still felt kind. He feels like he's become something that is insurmountable, a terrible, tragic burden that Gojo has to trail behind him. He feels like a failure. He shouldn't be letting himself take comfort in sharing a bed, he shouldn't be allowed to have something good.
So he stares at the shadows in his room and tries to think, thoughts all thorny and muddled up. )
Maybe they could let us take missions together again. Maybe that would work.
[ get it together. satoru's got to get it together.
if he wants to keep up with suguru, if he still wants them to be the strongest together, he's got to get a grip on it. how can suguru depend on him if something like this is enough to make him crumble?
don't think about it. don't think about amanai. don't think about we were so close to just turning around. don't think about the first bite of the inverted spear of heaven into the tender skin of his throat. don't think about it. don't think.
focus on getting strong, faster, sharper, smarter. that's --
but the last bit makes him jerk, startled enough to pull his head away from suguru's shoulder so that he can look directly at him. forgetting the prickling burn that means his eyes will be red-rimmed from tears he's refusing to cry, just -- ]
( Theres something about Gojo's voice, something small and unlike him, sharp enough of a difference that Geto reaches for him, palm warm against his face. )
If I have to fight then I want to fight with you. I know I'm letting you down, but I'll find a way. I don't want you to have to do it all alone, Satoru, that isn't fair. So I'll get over it, I promise. I just --. I just ...
( Nerves lick up his spine, sink their teeth in. )
No! [ ack. wait. shaking his head, desperation clawing up the back of his throat. ] I mean, no, obviously I want to take missions with you. Doing it alone sucks compared to what it's like when we're together, I just --
[ swallowing. hard. eyes flickering away from suguru's face, something as unfamiliar as shame roiling in his stomach. ] ... I messed up. I told you I had it covered, and I --
[ his fingers curl in the material of suguru's shirt, a tremor creeping up his spine. ] I thought --
Wait, no. You didn't. You did everything you could have. You were running on fumes, Satoru, and we both thought it was safe. It should have been. ( His throat clicks as he swallows the harsh lump in it, holding on like it's a lifeline. ) We had to do everything on our own. We always have to. And you were -. You almost -.
( He takes a breath, shaky. )
I know everyone else treats you like you're indestructible, but you're seventeen. They just let you do all the work and they hide, and I hate it. ( Genuine anger filters through. ) I don't want them to use you all up. I wish I could figure a way out.
[ another shake of his head, stubbornly refusing to let suguru wrench this guilt away from him. ]
But I told you I'd take care of it. [ there's a ragged edge to his voice, a hitch to the next breath he sucks in. ] You didn't want to split up. You only did it because you trusted me, and --
( He scrambles for Gojo's hands in the dark, holding them tight enough their bones creak together. )
No.
( He sounds desperate. )
I still trust you. I trust you more than anyone in this place. I trust you with my life. You did what you could, you were overworked, you were exhausted. We were on school grounds. We should have been safe. Satoru, is this why you've been taking all these missions? Is this why you don't rest?
[ it's almost terrifying to be seen like this. it'd be unbearable if it were anyone else; anger is his defense mechanism against vulnerability, and there's not a single other living soul who could pry satoru open this way and not be met with teeth and claws.
but this is suguru. suguru.
and satoru can barely even remember what it was like to not have all his most tender, secret places belong to him. ]
I wanted to get stronger -- [ his eyes are burning with something that might be tears, and there's a tremor in his hands where suguru is clutching at them. ] I -- I'm gonna make sure it doesn't happen again --
He's been so blind. All Geto has known was the bottom of the pit he'd fallen into, he hadn't been able to peer out long enough to see that Gojo was stuck in one too. He hates it, hates himself, hates the whole world. His hands shake when he lifts one wipe away the tears on his best friend's face. )
It would kill me if you wore yourself too thin trying to protect me. ( Like a secret. ) I don't think it would be worth living on if you did.
[ it's an instant, instinctive denial, but. then satoru snaps his mouth shut just as quickly, disarmed by the tender way suguru thumbs that traitorous tear away.
because it's not about this summer, not really. it's about all of it; a weight so heavy it's been wedging them slowly apart. and he can't ask suguru to be a little more selfish if he's not willing to make the same concession. ]
Not gonna happen. [ another shuddering breath, and then he bumps their foreheads together again. ] You and me? We're the strongest. Together.
We're taking the rest of the week off, okay? And after that, no more solo missions for either of us. I'm taking missions with you, or I'm not taking 'em at all.
[ it doesn't fix the core of the problem, but it's a start. foundation first, then they can start chipping away at the rest of it. ]
( He doesn't know if it's that simple. He isn't sure they'll even let them. But a part of him wants to believe it when Gojo lays things out like that. Like they're irrefutable, unchangeable. Like the two of them get to dictate the path they're on. )
Okay.
( All at once the exhaustion hits, Geto wriggles closer for wont of a better solution, curling the two of them together like they're too parts of a whole underneath his blanket. ) Okay, we can do that. That sounds like a good plan, Satoru. But we're not doing anything tomorrow, okay? Sleep. Food. You need to rest. I need to rest. Let's just do that and not think about anything else just yet, okay?
[ funny how something this simple feels like they’re clawing back something important. satoru suggests some lofty goal, and suguru grounds it into into the shape of something more achievable.
a reminder to sleep, to eat, to rest. the unspoken belief that they need to.
and it feels as natural as anything when suguru curls back up close and warm against him, when satoru throws an arm back over him and tangles their legs together under the blankets. ]
I missed you. [ it’s a soft, warm thing, murmured almost like a confession. ] I don’t want to do any of this without you either.
( He'd longed for his friend like it was a physical absence. As though something had been carved out and he'd been walking around with the leftover wound. It's why he speaks now, quiet voice a gust of air against Gojo's skin, face hidden away in the dark. ) I thought I was holding you back. I thought maybe it was better if I didn't cling, because you were working so hard and that's what you wanted. I'm sorry, Satoru. I didn't see that you needed me too.
( It's something he forgets. His own impact. That no one else will watch out for the stumble, because no one else believes it exists. But what else is he built for if not to be there to catch Gojo Satoru when he needs it? )
[ it’s the last bit that drags a little sigh out of him; the kind of relief that comes from someone who realizes they’re finally able to shelter from the storm.
he squeezes his arm around suguru a little more tightly in response, butting his head into the other boy’s shoulder in a gesture that’s (almost) cute enough to be called a nuzzle. ]
We’ve got each other. [ affirming it back to him, cementing it like an oath. ] No chance we can’t figure out all the rest of it, right? ‘cause we’re the strongest.
( And maybe it doesn't matter if he doesn't feel like it. Maybe all he really needs is Gojo Satoru at his side, no physical divide, no mental one either. It feels better now they're here, and maybe tomorrow they might have to shrug off cuddling in bed, but for now Geto will let himself have this. If he can't have anything else at all, at least let there be this. )
Go to sleep, Satoru. We can fix the world tomorrow, okay? After - ( And here, a yawn. It's late enough to warrant it, and maybe the emotional toll has already started weighing. ) - breakfast, at least. I'll make something.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It is also not entirely helpful.
Once again Geto feels stuck inside his own body. Weighed down by the rot of it, imprisoned inside of his bones. He wishes, futilely, that he could crack open his skull just to peer inside and divine his own real feelings. He doesn't know what he wants to say, nor if the things that queue up are the truth. He hates that he can't figure that out. )
Yeah. ( Lamely what he settles on, palm flat against Gojo's chest. ) But we have to, right? That's the point. There's no one else.
( Oh, he wants to cry. He can feel it. )
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[ with a stubborn kind of insistence, leaning close enough to bump their foreheads together like that'll help make sure the words stick. ] People always wanna act like we signed on some kinda dotted line just by being born, y'know? And the geezers up at the top act like they can call the shots just 'cause that's the way it's always been.
I don't care about any of that stuff. [ sure, his view has shifted plenty since he first set foot in tokyo, but the core of it's the same. he likes being a sorcerer. he likes pushing himself to get stronger, discovering new ways to utilize his technique, finding that one-in-a-million opponent that offers up some kind of challenge. ] What do you want, Suguru?
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I don't know.
( It's repetitive, it's dumb. He kind of hates it. )
I know what I'm supposed to say. I'm supposed to want to keep going, because it's my duty, because I'm one of the only people who can, and what else is there but doing your very best for the world around you? It's what's expected, isn't it? We have to save people. It doesn't matter what it costs. Anything else is selfish. But -. ( He twitches, like a flinch. It feels sacrilegious to say anything beyond what he has. ) - but I don't want to do it if I have to lose everything to keep going.
( He breathes, the gust of it against Gojo's cheek. The truth sits there between them, and Geto keeps his eyes closed. )
He told me you were dead. The sorcerer killer. He told me he killed you.
no subject
he told me you were dead.
he told me he killed you.
that's all it takes to bring it back -- the white noise of applause all around him, the weight of amanai's corpse in his arms, the detached certainty of connecting the fact that suguru isn't here with the knowledge that suguru would've never left her alone. ]
... yeah. [ and for once, his voice is small. ] When I found her, I --
I thought you were gone. And I -- [ he stumbles over it. not at the thought of confessing it to suguru, but at the idea that saying them aloud might turn that narrow brush into something real. ] ... it felt like nothing mattered anymore.
I thought about killing them. Everyone in that room. [ with a detached sort of unselfconsciousness, the way someone else might describe running an errand. ] But I couldn't even decide. It felt like they deserved to die, but it didn't feel like them dying would fix anything, and --
None of it meant anything if it meant I was stuck in a world without you in it, y'know?
no subject
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.
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Okay. [ like it's easy, because it is. choosing suguru is the easiest thing in the world. ] Then we're not doing it.
[ having (freakishly) long arms comes with all kinds of benefits! like the way he can lean just a little and swat at the place suguru keeps his phone plugged in and charging on the desk next to his bed. then he's dragging it closer, unlocking it, squinting when the brightness of the screen washes over him, and tapping out something rapidly before suguru even gets the chance to protest.
after that? powering it off and tossing it haphazardly over his shoulder in the general direction of the bed. ] There. We're both off for the rest of the week. Won't kill 'em to sort out their own problems for a few days.
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( Immediately he tries to scramble for it, but they're all entwined together and his heart isn't exactly in it. Instead he sinks back into the sheets, limbs heavy, voice mystified. ) I don't think we're allowed to do that, Satoru.
( It doesn't fix the problem anyway. Someone else has to take the load, someone else has to stand in his place. He just wishes it were simpler. He wishes he weren't afraid. There's something coming for him and he doesn't exactly know how to stand it down. )
What did you say?
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[ ... he's also glossing over that last question, because if he spells out exactly how rude the text he just sent from suguru's phone was, it'll probably kick off a wrestling match for the phone. ]
Hey. [ bumping his forehead into suguru's shoulder. ] If Amanai told us that she didn't want to be the Star Plasma Vessel, would you have told her she had to? [ it's not really a question when he already knows the answer. ] Why's it only different when it comes to you?
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( Small, and a little lost. He doesn't quite like remembering the hope on her face. ) She changed her mind. I told her we'd talked about it. We were so close to just turning around, Satoru. To getting out of there. But it is different. If I don't fight then they'll make you pick up my share of it, and that isn't fair either. You're exhausted, and we barely see each other now, and I keep telling myself it's fine because at least you're alive, and I'm helping. What if I didn't help? You're not actually a god.
( He lifts a hand, runs fingers through white hair. It isn't a criticism. )
I miss you. I miss when it felt simple.
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there's a part of satoru that wishes he could put those words back, to make it so that he never heard them, because knowing hurts. it's a creature that digs into him with claws and teeth, trying to claw under the cage of his ribs to the most tender places below.
she didn't want to. they were going to turn around.
but they didn't, they couldn't, because satoru couldn't stop the sorcerer killer from getting through. and that's the root cause of all of this, right? suguru can't trust him enough to rest when he needs to and let satoru pick up the slack, because satoru let him down when it counted -- ]
I miss you too. [ and even muffled into the other boy's shoulder, there's no hiding the way his voice comes out thick and cracking. ]
no subject
He wishes they were still in Okinawa, back before all of this started, where things were simple and sweet and life still felt kind. He feels like he's become something that is insurmountable, a terrible, tragic burden that Gojo has to trail behind him. He feels like a failure. He shouldn't be letting himself take comfort in sharing a bed, he shouldn't be allowed to have something good.
So he stares at the shadows in his room and tries to think, thoughts all thorny and muddled up. )
Maybe they could let us take missions together again. Maybe that would work.
no subject
if he wants to keep up with suguru, if he still wants them to be the strongest together, he's got to get a grip on it. how can suguru depend on him if something like this is enough to make him crumble?
don't think about it. don't think about amanai. don't think about we were so close to just turning around. don't think about the first bite of the inverted spear of heaven into the tender skin of his throat. don't think about it. don't think.
focus on getting strong, faster, sharper, smarter. that's --
but the last bit makes him jerk, startled enough to pull his head away from suguru's shoulder so that he can look directly at him. forgetting the prickling burn that means his eyes will be red-rimmed from tears he's refusing to cry, just -- ]
You still want to? Take missions together?
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( Theres something about Gojo's voice, something small and unlike him, sharp enough of a difference that Geto reaches for him, palm warm against his face. )
If I have to fight then I want to fight with you. I know I'm letting you down, but I'll find a way. I don't want you to have to do it all alone, Satoru, that isn't fair. So I'll get over it, I promise. I just --. I just ...
( Nerves lick up his spine, sink their teeth in. )
Do you not want to?
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[ swallowing. hard. eyes flickering away from suguru's face, something as unfamiliar as shame roiling in his stomach. ] ... I messed up. I told you I had it covered, and I --
[ his fingers curl in the material of suguru's shirt, a tremor creeping up his spine. ] I thought --
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( His voice goes tight, pinched. )
Wait, no. You didn't. You did everything you could have. You were running on fumes, Satoru, and we both thought it was safe. It should have been. ( His throat clicks as he swallows the harsh lump in it, holding on like it's a lifeline. ) We had to do everything on our own. We always have to. And you were -. You almost -.
( He takes a breath, shaky. )
I know everyone else treats you like you're indestructible, but you're seventeen. They just let you do all the work and they hide, and I hate it. ( Genuine anger filters through. ) I don't want them to use you all up. I wish I could figure a way out.
no subject
But I told you I'd take care of it. [ there's a ragged edge to his voice, a hitch to the next breath he sucks in. ] You didn't want to split up. You only did it because you trusted me, and --
[ it could've gotten you killed. ]
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No.
( He sounds desperate. )
I still trust you. I trust you more than anyone in this place. I trust you with my life. You did what you could, you were overworked, you were exhausted. We were on school grounds. We should have been safe. Satoru, is this why you've been taking all these missions? Is this why you don't rest?
no subject
[ it's almost terrifying to be seen like this. it'd be unbearable if it were anyone else; anger is his defense mechanism against vulnerability, and there's not a single other living soul who could pry satoru open this way and not be met with teeth and claws.
but this is suguru. suguru.
and satoru can barely even remember what it was like to not have all his most tender, secret places belong to him. ]
I wanted to get stronger -- [ his eyes are burning with something that might be tears, and there's a tremor in his hands where suguru is clutching at them. ] I -- I'm gonna make sure it doesn't happen again --
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He's been so blind. All Geto has known was the bottom of the pit he'd fallen into, he hadn't been able to peer out long enough to see that Gojo was stuck in one too. He hates it, hates himself, hates the whole world. His hands shake when he lifts one wipe away the tears on his best friend's face. )
It would kill me if you wore yourself too thin trying to protect me. ( Like a secret. ) I don't think it would be worth living on if you did.
( Are they stuck then? He doesn't know. )
I don't want that, Satoru.
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[ it's an instant, instinctive denial, but. then satoru snaps his mouth shut just as quickly, disarmed by the tender way suguru thumbs that traitorous tear away.
because it's not about this summer, not really. it's about all of it; a weight so heavy it's been wedging them slowly apart. and he can't ask suguru to be a little more selfish if he's not willing to make the same concession. ]
Not gonna happen. [ another shuddering breath, and then he bumps their foreheads together again. ] You and me? We're the strongest. Together.
We're taking the rest of the week off, okay? And after that, no more solo missions for either of us. I'm taking missions with you, or I'm not taking 'em at all.
[ it doesn't fix the core of the problem, but it's a start. foundation first, then they can start chipping away at the rest of it. ]
no subject
Okay.
( All at once the exhaustion hits, Geto wriggles closer for wont of a better solution, curling the two of them together like they're too parts of a whole underneath his blanket. ) Okay, we can do that. That sounds like a good plan, Satoru. But we're not doing anything tomorrow, okay? Sleep. Food. You need to rest. I need to rest. Let's just do that and not think about anything else just yet, okay?
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a reminder to sleep, to eat, to rest. the unspoken belief that they need to.
and it feels as natural as anything when suguru curls back up close and warm against him, when satoru throws an arm back over him and tangles their legs together under the blankets. ]
I missed you. [ it’s a soft, warm thing, murmured almost like a confession. ] I don’t want to do any of this without you either.
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( He'd longed for his friend like it was a physical absence. As though something had been carved out and he'd been walking around with the leftover wound. It's why he speaks now, quiet voice a gust of air against Gojo's skin, face hidden away in the dark. ) I thought I was holding you back. I thought maybe it was better if I didn't cling, because you were working so hard and that's what you wanted. I'm sorry, Satoru. I didn't see that you needed me too.
( It's something he forgets. His own impact. That no one else will watch out for the stumble, because no one else believes it exists. But what else is he built for if not to be there to catch Gojo Satoru when he needs it? )
We're going to be fine now. We've got each other.
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he squeezes his arm around suguru a little more tightly in response, butting his head into the other boy’s shoulder in a gesture that’s (almost) cute enough to be called a nuzzle. ]
We’ve got each other. [ affirming it back to him, cementing it like an oath. ] No chance we can’t figure out all the rest of it, right? ‘cause we’re the strongest.
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( And maybe it doesn't matter if he doesn't feel like it. Maybe all he really needs is Gojo Satoru at his side, no physical divide, no mental one either. It feels better now they're here, and maybe tomorrow they might have to shrug off cuddling in bed, but for now Geto will let himself have this. If he can't have anything else at all, at least let there be this. )
Go to sleep, Satoru. We can fix the world tomorrow, okay? After - ( And here, a yawn. It's late enough to warrant it, and maybe the emotional toll has already started weighing. ) - breakfast, at least. I'll make something.
( More sleepy snuffling, more wriggling closer. )
Okay?
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