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“You're late, Satoru.” He says softly, his characteristical easy smile still adorning his face, despite the pain and dizziness. “To think you'd be the one here at my end…”
“Is this what you wanted?” The white haired asks, his imposing figure towering over the downed man as he studies his former friend’s condition.
Suguru bites his tongue, biding his time as he looks around in defeat. There’s not much he can do now. There was never much he could do, really. Gojo is the strongest, after all.
It should have ended by now, but Gojo still hesitated, just like he has done before. His glistening irises give him away as always, tearing down the facade of indifference and disappointment. How many times did Geto fall for these ocean eyes so full of longing and hope?
“Is my family safe?” He wonders, thinking especially of the twins.
“Every last one of them managed to escape.”
“Good.” He closes his eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh in relief.
“So you do care for them?” Gojo muses.
“Unlike you, I'm a kind man.”
“Some of your followers think you are holy, some sort of fallen angel. A god, even.”
“And what do you think?”
“I think you became a nasty little prick filled with pride and greed.”
Geto snorts a little, just the amount of laughter his broken ribs allow.
“...funny… So I became what everyone thought of you?”
Gojo could have laughed at that remark, were he not so devastated.
“Maybe they are right, maybe I’m worthless.”
“Or maybe they are wrong and I was right all the way. I always thought you were pure.” There was sincerity in his speech, and Gojo knew it.
“I never thought you would turn.” The confession spills, bitter like gall, while Gojo still fights his desire to bend his knees and embrace his enemy. “You were always so much better than me.”
“Was I? You know… I asked myself many times: am I god or shit? Am I the high or the low? You never had to ask this to yourself, had you?”
“No.”
“Maybe that’s the point, hum? Maybe my purpose was to let you know what you really were, even when you didn’t ask for it.”
“Were you gonna bring hell just to let me know this?”
“I was gonna bring a little heaven as well. You should see me in a crown, I bet you’d like it. You’d enjoy watching me make 'em bow one by one. No matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys. I enjoyed making them fall. I liked the way they all screamed, and I really wanted to make the world better.”
“You are sick, Suguro.”
“And you wanted to be sick just like me, Satoru.” Geto points out. The smile on his face is now a condescending one. “You don’t care for them, you never did. But you do care for me, I know it. That’s what kept me going. You are the main reason I have, Satoru. You always were and always will be.”
“Are you gonna say you love me as well?”
“I do.” He prompted replies. No shame, no deterrence. Only the truth. “It’s a beautiful tragedy, isn’t it? That the eyes that I loved so much are gonna be the last thing I’ll ever see.”
“I love you too, Suguro.”
Geto smiles at the confession. A bittersweet tear is threatening to fall, but he wouldn’t allow it. It would not be fair to Gojo.
“At least hit me with some curses at my end.” He asks.
Gojo complies.