Ouu being best friends with geto as a child, so intertwined with one another that people in your small city find it strange to see you without the other. His best friend, his person. At the age of 14, when the first snow falls and sets on his nose, he goes to you with a gift in hand. A special, special gift. One that would bind the two of you physically as your souls already are.
But he finds you dead. Cold to touch and the lingering trail of a curse that came and went, who took you with it.
He doesn’t know what to feel, think, understand when he sees your curse. But the very first thing that shot through him is relief.
You bore into him, the same as you’ve always been, but you’re now floating an inch off the ground.
Geto is 14 years old when he ingests you. Your taste is the first and the last he’s had that does not resemble rotten flesh and tar, but something else. A taste he’s familiar with, a scent on his tongue so very like your sweat. Your blood and meat combined.
You are now inside of him forever. You now Belong to him. And he will never say it out loud, nor can anybody guess, but. but.
It soothes him.
You can’t die again
