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Geto can’t tell when the distance between him and Gojo grew to this extent, he can’t discern if it all fell apart all at once with the loud boom of a gun or if it decayed and faded one fragment at a time.
He’s not sure Gojo is even aware, maybe he simply ignores their slow downwards spiral or maybe he’s too far up to see how Geto has fallen. Maybe Gojo simply doesn’t want to see all the broken pieces, the chipped corners of their pride.
It’s easier for him to do.
Geto wants to grab him by the hair and force Gojo to look into a mirror, see how hollow those blue eyes of his are. Show him that manic look that terrifies Geto every time he sees it.
He’s not sure Gojo would care.
Why should he?
Gojo Satoru is The Strongest.
He’s not weak and fragile like the rest of them.
He’s not broken the same way Geto is.
Gojo shines too brightly for him or anyone else to see the cracks. He can’t reveal any sign of weakness and he knows it. He’s been taught so all his life, been raised in this terrifyingly unfair world of theirs filled with monsters that take the forms of old men making choices and betting the lives of teenagers while they sit comfortably far away from the blood and guts and misery.
Geto wasn’t raised like this.
It never mattered before.
A small thing such as their completely different upbringings faded away in the face of their friendship. It never mattered that Gojo was the prodigy of the sorcerer world because he wasn’t the Gojo heir to Geto, he was just Satoru. In the very same way that Geto wasn’t the outsider with the strange technique to Gojo.
Infinity never existed between them.
Infinity was something that existed between them and everyone else.
In hindsight, it was a stupid thing to believe and now they’re both paying for it.
They barely see each other now, Gojo is shinier than ever in the eyes of the higher-ups, stronger than ever and young and stupid enough for them to use him as they please.
It’s incredible how easy Gojo lets himself be used.
He’d never admit it, Geto isn’t sure Gojo is even aware of how easy he can be used. How little effort it would take to point him in the right direction and let him wreak havoc.
Geto only realised how much power he holds over his best friend when those empty eyes look to him for guidance. When those beautiful eyes that held so much emotion every time Geto stared into them turned into endless, blue voids.
He asked Geto.
It was terrifying, knowing he held the power to kill a room full of people. It would have been Geto that killed them, not Gojo. You don’t blame the knife for what the person handling it does. He couldn’t do that to Gojo, couldn’t use him the way everyone else does because Geto is not like those people.
No matter how much Gojo would agree to it, no matter that he’d gladly let Geto do anything to him.
Geto won’t take that power.
A part of him wishes Gojo had killed those cultists before Geto arrived...
Powerless people…
Were they really?
Amanai was powerless…
Geto was powerless. Haibara was powerless. Every other student that died protecting nothing was powerless, not some bastards plotting the deaths of teenagers, throwing money at murder machines like Zenin Toji to slaughter teenagers while they cheered on from the sidelines.
Gojo was powerless too, but he was also too stupid to understand.
They’re doomed, but that doesn’t mean Geto won’t kick and scream and kill every monkey that stands in his way. He’s found a purpose again, a clear one this time, something to keep him going until it’s all done.
He knows he’s being cruel.
Geto would say he doesn’t care and it is true. He has no time or patience for monkeys, no mercy for the people that would cage two little girls up out of pure stupidity. He’s more than happy to be cruel to them. It’s easy to take over their cult and squeeze the money out of them. It’s easy to play them like the dumb animals that they are.
Geto regrets none of that.
There’s something else that makes him squirm, another cruelty that keeps him awake at night and makes his stomach turn worse than any disgustingly tasting curse.
One day Gojo will have to kill him.
A part of Geto is happy, ecstatic even, at the thought that he will die at the hands of the one he loves most. He wants his blood to stain Gojo’s immaculate, untouchable hands. He wants to be forever imprinted in Gojo’s heart and soul. The thought of his life ending at his best friend’s feet brings him comfort. It sates a terrible hunger deep inside his wretched being.
Maybe he’s not ashamed of how deeply he hurts his soulmate.
Maybe he’s ashamed because it brings him joy to know that no one in this world has ever or will ever harm Gojo Satoru in the same way Geto Suguru can.
If he could consume Gojo the same way he did his curses…
Those big blue eyes have always been beautiful. Geto has let himself get lost in those clear depths many times, but none of them compares to the sight he sees as he bleeds out in a nameless alley.
Gojo will never forget him.
As their last moments together pass Geto doesn’t stop to think what his fate will be after death. Instead, he watches his best friend and lets himself be happy one last time. He wishes he had the strength to pull Gojo down with him.
Hold him one last time.
Maybe Geto Suguru deserves what happens to him next.
Maybe fate decided this is the best punishment for him.
He’s adrift, nothing but an angry whisper of a thought, a speck of consciousness, locked away in the deepest corners of his own body. Time passes over him and awareness fades, memories become thicker than fog and the reality outside of his body becomes less than distant background noises and sensations.
The embers of his anger burn each time he’s reminded why he’s being used.
Jealousy at the reality that someone else will hurt his one and only using the shell of himself.
The sight of Gojo defeated and distraught reaches past the fog and drags him to the surface.
Geto Suguru is the only person that has the right to hurt Gojo Satoru.