Curate, connect, and discover
when you wish upon a star, you send it back to the night sky. that’s how they get home.
gojo is a star (a literal star from the sky) who fell on earth and geto is the one who finds him by the fringe of the forest. the only way gojo can go back is if geto makes a wish. just as he’s about to ask, gojo shushes him. gojo is not eager to go home, anyway. he was indifferent at first, but the more he spends time on the ground, the more he’d rather stay embodied. gojo is now caught in a dilemma, between this urge to give geto a stroke of luck in his life, and this yearning to stay beside him. geto, half-knowing, stays tightlipped. a summer passes. (was it a slip of the tongue?) when geto sits up from the futon that morning, his bed is empty.
geto’s wish is for gojo to be happy.
geto, with all his self-sabotaging tendencies and his hopeless awe for gojo, took one look at his sparkler-lit smile that night and wished for him to always be happy. of course, the universe has its rules—that wish sent gojo home. you need to wish upon a star to send it back to the night sky. it’s always been that way for as long as the cosmos’ existence. gojo’s told him this many times, and yet he still said it out loud. if he really thinks on it, this might be the first time he’s ever been this honest. he folds the futon, then he places it at the bottom of his closet.
unbeknownst to geto, though, (or rather, he refuses to entertain the thought), gojo was happy with him. is happy with him.
it takes a year for geto to spot that stark head of hair again, and a minute later for the day-sky to stare back.
and then that smile.
(“well?” gojo says, wiping the condensation on his pants. “what did you wish for?” he sips his ramune. what was so important that you’d send me away?
“ah, that.” this time, there is no hurry. geto can afford to go on a little longer. “it’s a secret.”)