Author's note: So I am absolutely obsessed with the hidden inventory arc and Geto's unfortunate fall from grace. It is such a beautiful and tragic story. So I wanted to explore that and his and Gojo's relationship some more. This is the first part of that exploration.

Beta by jorgmund piper, with much appreciation.

The Light in Your Eyes, The Storm inside Me

The Light

"Hey, Suguru, should we kill these guys? I don't think I'd feel anything about it right now…"

That was the moment. Right there. The moment I knew. Something about you had changed, something deeply fundamental. You were altered. Resurrected. Refined. Reconstituted. And I…

I was frightened of you…

The blue of the universe was shivering and shifting in your eyes. You were becoming. You were ascending. You had already ascended. You had summitted the mountain, climbed over the heavens. The light of creation shimmered and swam in your eyes. At first I was relieved, dumbfounded when I saw you. And then I saw it. I saw you. And I was afraid.

Afraid for me. Afraid for us.

"Hey, Suguru, should we kill these guys…"

I told you no. I even laid out perfectly valid reasons. That these people were just nameless humans, mindless followers. But I was hollow. The words came out hollow. Riko was dead in your arms and you were an angel carrying her into the light. My angel. It's what you had always been to me, but now you were a literal being of ungodly power, an untouchable celestial entity. You had changed that much in the brief period of my absence. And I hated it. I hated it so much. Because of what it meant. What it meant for us…

We weren't the strongest. Not anymore.

You. You were the strongest.

Everyone applauded as a pale unearthly angel carried the sacred vessel through the crowd. The ocean of humanity gave way, shifting like the seas, like the clouds in your eyes. The sound of applause echoed throughout the hall, trailing you in triumph, in tribute. I was horrified. I was miserable. I had failed completely, while you—you had triumphed over god himself. You had succeeded. Achieved enlightenment. Granted absolute power.

And I was left to stumble along in your wake. Unchanged. Unremarkable. Miserable.

The situation would soon prove untenable.

I was the one to cry that night, as we lay together in my dorm room with a sanguine spring moon peering in. Your face was softly shaded as I held you close in my arms, your feathery hair a glowing halo beneath my chin. You didn't see the tears slipping silently down in the dark. Would you have comforted me then if you had known my true feelings, my inner struggle? Would you? Perhaps yes, perhaps not. It was not the normal dynamic of our relationship. I had always pretended to be the upstanding moral adult, while you always played the part of the rebellious, mischievous child. It was my place and my part to anchor you, to counsel you. You had faith in me. While I, I was simply content to be by your side. To be your partner. To be your equal.

But…I was no longer your equal. And I feared what both of us were becoming.

"Hey Suguru…"

The red sickle moon sank behind dark clouds and outside rain began to fall.

"Hey Suguru…"

Hard drops clattered against the window panes, echoing through my darkened room.

"Hey Suguru…"

A crowd of onlookers applauded loudly. The sound grew, slowly, then louder, louder, louder, until it crescendoed—

"—Hey Suguru…Suguru, are you with me?" Your voice, and a hand trailing up and over my face. Running wet grooves through the tracks of my tears. Then closer, in a low whisper: "Hey Suguru, it's not your fault. It's not. It's my fault. Do you hear me? It's my fault Riko—

CLAP—

FLASH—

A scarf fluttering…

Blood scattering…

CLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAPCLAP—

"I can't…" My voice broke uncontrollably. In despair, I reached for you.

I felt you swallow my tortured words whole, my world whole. You took control. And in desperation, I let you. I let your mouth temporarily purge this sin from me. I clung to your strength. And in the dark, in the deafening depths of my despair, I let your hands, your body—newly awakened and thrumming with hidden power—take me out of myself. I breathed your name like a catechism, hoping to rid my mind of the sound, the drumming, the clapping. I wanted release, relief so badly. I muttered incoherently, incessantly, egging you on. I was not myself. You were not yourself. Outside, there was a thundering roar, as we came together violently, messily, in a desperate way previously left unexplored by us.

The clapping slowly receded into the background.

The moon dropped below the clouds.

Quietly, the rain began to ebb, and for a little while after, I didn't hear it at all. I didn't hear anything. I didn't feel anything. I didn't feel guilt. All I felt was you lying next to me. The subtle sound of your breathing. And the sense of something being broken, irrevocably, irreversibly…

Something I know I will never be able to get back…

To be continued…