Geto was in current mental denial, tired and exhausted from quiet reassurance.

He had gotten a bit worse, currently showering in the locker rooms. he runs a hand through his sleek, black hair, his head hanging low while his eyes were wide and aware.

“..damned monkeys.”

He grumbles, scrubbing his scalp with his fingertips.

“I’m so tired…”

“..But I can’t falter.”

”for him.”

Geto relied on Gojo, being friends with him for as long as he knew him as a sorcerer. Yet there was a time and a place he would have to let go of the habits soon.

A while after he comes out, his hair sticking to his neck as he puts his studs in. he looks at his face in the mirror, his eyes lidded and deepened in his bags.

“When is it gonna be over.”

He mutters, the corners of his mouth curling downwards.

“I can’t keep going.”

A week passes, Geto currently walking through shibuya with headphones in.

The sun blinds over the windows of the buildings, shining like stars over the water under the bridge.

He walked and walked, his hands shoved into his pockets. His head banged, currently starved from not eating properly.