Geto imagined this would happen fifty years into the future. Not ten— twelve.

He doesn’t think Gojo should be up here with him yet. Doesn’t think he should cross the line that keeps them separated until it’s genuinely Gojo’s time.

“Satoru,” he calls his name in the one way nobody else could, not even Kenjaku. “Don’t cross the line yet.” He points downwards to the engraved line in the ground.

It’s almost funny. He’s trying his own hardest to not cross the line and jump onto Gojo, so many things he needs to say that falls silent on his tongue. He plays it off with a chuckle as he stands in front of Gojo.

“Don’t tell me the World’s Strongest is dead already?”