Chapter Text
"You're in Tokyo right now, right? Wait for me, I'll be there on the first flight. Just tell me where you are."
...What?
He can't be serious, right?
When the call ended abruptly, not even allowing him to say goodbye, Reo realized – Nagi was completely serious. To be precise, he had rarely seen Seishiro so focused and unrestrained to doubt him.
When Mikage had once joked in his head that he feared only two things: the phone screen and seeing Nagi, he never imagined this would become his immediate future. Sure, they might have met someday by chance, sharing awkward and bewildered glances, but not when the guy had taken the initiative to buy a ticket on the first flight to Japan just to see him. Reo was completely unprepared for this. It caught him, literally, by surprise.
Should Seishiro be met at the airport? He wouldn't just get into the first taxi and head wherever (most likely to the place Reo informs him about). When would this happen? How did Reo even end up in such a situation? And there would never be an answer.
So, instead of a good night's sleep, Mikage found himself browsing airline websites, looking for the nearest flight from London to Tokyo. The only one he found for today departed at four in the morning and arrived at six in the evening. It was a long flight. Nagi would be flying almost the entire day. He didn't consider how exhausting this would be: going through so much just for one meeting? Maybe, once, it would have been like that.
It's not so bad that he lands later. Reo would have time to reschedule his evening plans and dedicate a couple of hours to an old friend. He'd prepare a few things: maybe a warm lemon tea in a cup... After all, Seishiro likely wanted it very much, and Mikage couldn't resist his wishes. It had always been this way.
Nine years since they last met face to face sounded even more terrifying. It was such a crazy stretch of time, like an abyss between "then" and "now." What to talk about? Reo knew literally nothing about recent football news, and Seishiro always found business plans boring. They'd have to chew over pleasant memories, haunted by less pleasant consequences. Once, Mikage could have talked about anything, and Nagi would have listened, but that moment was long gone!
Did Nagi really miss him?
He had never felt so trapped in an invisible cage of his own emotions. Reo paced the room at midnight when he should have gone to bed two hours ago! Because it was hard to believe that everything was really happening. He still wasn't sure. What was he afraid of? Hearing again that he was no longer needed? Running away again, just showing the soles of his shoes?
When it came to Nagi, Reo melted too quickly, just like his heart. Mikage was like a snowman in late spring, melting into a smile and a feeling of sincerity with him. Again.
Egoistos 1:35
Nagi:
I’m leaving
in 2 hours
you won’t reach me
Isagi:
WHAT
Bachira:
and without us???
Chigiri:
And where ??
Nagi:
Tokyo
Isagi:
Nagi... Why do you need to go to Tokyo when your family is never there?
And for how long? Did you even tell the others?
Nagi:
no
I’m going to Reo
Chigiri:
WHAT
I ALMOST CHOKED FROM THAT
you’re in contact??
for how long??
when did you manage??
how is he??
Bachira:
Isagi, he’s choking too
so am I
You and Reocchi are together again?!?!?!?!?!
Nagi:
no
I don’t know
he called me and then I called via video
he’s changed
Chigiri:
Hypocrite, people usually grow up in 8 or however many years
Nagi:
so that’s why you have wrinkles?
okay I’m leaving bye
Isagi:
Good luck!
He'll need luck. Why? Well, because nine years sounded... daunting. They seemed to have been there and yet not, Nagi didn’t feel much difference except in the word "not." He was already used to living, coping, and essentially existing without Reo by his side. He got used to every new dull day that would repeat the previous one or annoy him even more with its unbearably tedious hours. Alone.
He used to be alone before too: living in an apartment while his parents (who were traveling researchers) were never around, walking to and from school no matter how hard it was, and not having any particularly close relationships at school. There was no special reason for this, usually just classmates' gossip about how strange he was. Strange for always sleeping in class. Strange for not wanting to talk for more than two minutes, as it was exhausting. Strange for not being interested in anything in life.
Although now being alone was unbearable. Not when Seishiro spent six whole months with someone. Someone insisted on communication, on friendship with him. Someone drove him to school and back, offered to have lunch, dinner, and breakfast together, bought everything Nagi wished for: games, a phone, football equipment.
Nagi no longer felt lonely. For that period of time.
Then Reo disappeared. Didn't come back. Left Seishiro alone, just like Nagi had done at the second stage. He hadn't seen Mikage even once in all these years.
Around him were many people: football coaches from different countries, teammates, fans, and journalists. He had friends, many acquaintances, but he was alone. All his surroundings were unbearably superficial, unreal. It was even worse than before. Now he would give anything to return or at least relive those cherished six months.
Nagi constantly believed he was doing the right thing. Or he was accompanied by the phrase, "Everything happens for the best," so the most practical thing was to go with the flow of life, occasionally making his own decisions. Then, at the second stage (when everything went downhill), Seishiro was sure – everything he did and said would only strengthen their relationship with Reo towards football.
He was wrong. In everything.
Nagi sincerely didn't want to say anything terribly bad; it just happened. Reo needed to understand that he wasn't betraying their promises, that he was trying. They just needed some time. It was just a little quarrel that would go away on its own. He didn't convince Zantetsu for nothing that he cared too much about Reo – because that was the pure truth.
"Is that all your luggage?" asked the woman on the other side of the glass, handing him the coveted piece of paper with his seat and flight number.
"Yes," he agreed quietly. Because he didn't manage to take anything more. Because he didn't need anything more, he was finally going not just to Tokyo, but home. Nagi didn't want to waste a couple of hours waiting for luggage, so carry-on was much more convenient: a charger, documents, money, crumpled T-shirts, and a pair of shorts in his backpack.
As many times as Seishiro had been in Japan during this time, he always wanted to lie down on Reo’s back again and hug him around the neck, quietly falling asleep to his voice. This crazy wish was now something he wished for on every birthday. Nagi, on every arrival, dreamed of spotting him in the crowd and instinctively running after those bright purple eyes, like when he first saw Mikage in confusion at a match. "Why do you always look for someone?" – because he expected to see a familiar head.
And no matter how many times he tried to find at least a thread leading him to the guy, the desire was overshadowed by another: "If he left, it means he wanted to. If he left, it means you hurt him then. If he didn’t return, it means he doesn’t even want to talk to you." Nagi couldn't do anything about it because that was also the pure truth. Perhaps he ruined everything himself.
Seishiro became Japan's treasure in football, but secretly he was convinced that being the treasure of just one person was enough for him.
It’s hard for Nagi to answer his manager’s calls, that's true. It’s not hard for Nagi to fly ten thousand kilometers in fourteen hours and then personally travel to the designated place, no matter how much energy it took. Reo deserved every such action, every little thing in this world as never before. Reo deserved with his mere existence for Seishiro to think about him all this time until he saw him in person.
Fly faster. He needs to fly faster. He is tormented by waiting, and falling asleep, as usual, is impossible. Every sound presses too hard on his eardrums, his body sweats, and his heart beats twice as fast at the thought of their meeting.
"Are you flying to a loved one?" Nagi had to tear himself away from the senseless contemplation of the sky out the window in a half-asleep state. Next to him sat a woman, already not young. Seeing such people, you immediately understand that they usually simply have no one to talk to. Neither to sleep nor to play (firstly, there was simply no internet, and secondly, his phone, unfortunately, had died), Seishiro couldn’t manage, so... why not?
"To a friend," she thought, probably like many other people, he had a girlfriend or something like that. Everyone was surprised by his answer of "no." Besides, considering Reo as Nagi’s loved one was unlikely. "I haven't seen him in a while."
"Oh, why is that?"
"We had a fight. He left and didn’t come back. I wanted to make things better, but it didn’t turn out that way," the guy shrugged. He didn’t want to get into the details, finding it tiresome and annoying. Although, listening to insignificant details about Reo's life wasn’t quite the same. "I thought he understood why I did it. Turns out, he didn’t."
The woman pondered, pursing her lips. Perhaps she found the story interesting despite its brevity, or maybe not. For Nagi, it didn’t really matter. He probably wouldn’t see her again, so there was no need to worry (even if they met in the future, he wouldn’t care).
"You know, you have so much time ahead, you might think, but it’s not quite like that. Two years ago, I lost my husband. Fifteen years together, which seemed like an unimaginable number at first. We often disagreed and argued, but we were so attached to each other that we always stayed together. Silly, isn’t it?" She chuckled and smiled at this remark. Apparently, she also found some pleasure in remembering it all. "On the last day, I told him I was tired of him. That I was tired of his control, his hyper-care about everything I did. I didn’t really mean it. And he left. In the morning, he didn’t return, and as it turned out, drunk drivers are too cruel. So much so that their carelessness can take away your reason for existence.
What I mean is? Our loved ones aren’t telepathic to understand right away that we do things with good intentions. They hurt too. I deeply regretted my words and, honestly, still suffer from them. I realized too late that life is too short to waste on meaningless quarrels. So, if your friend is important to you, tell him. Apologize, even if you weren’t wrong. Don’t expect him to figure everything out on his own, but tell him everything. I’d give anything to tell him I love him just once more."
Seishiro listened, sometimes missing bits, but he got the gist of the story. Despite this, he mentally compared her and himself. Her husband and Reo. His life story and hers. They were identical if you didn’t go into details: both didn’t appreciate and both regretted.
The only difference was that Nagi could still get Reo back. As the woman mentioned, apologize and explain everything. Honestly? Seishiro would hardly cope in this world alone if Mikage simply ceased to exist. If he lost Reo, he would lose a huge part of himself with him. It was simply impossible: living with the thought that he was gone.
Nagi existed those miserable nine years without him, not lived. Life, once colorful, had dulled again, not allowing anything unlike the dark purple color, which always associated with Reo, to enter. Even eternity wouldn’t seem so endlessly long, only if Mikage was by his side. It was a must. Like bees without flowers, like a violin without a bow, like a football without a good player, Seishiro wasn’t himself without Reo.
"Pity," his face expressed nothing more than a usual relaxed expression, though his gaze easily conveyed that he felt and understood what he was being told. "I get it."
"Hope things work out for you," the woman smiled, making the folds around her eyes and mouth more prominent.
After that, they both chose not to continue the conversation and turned away: Nagi decided to continue staring out the window, dreaming of reaching his destination faster, while his neighbor asked the flight attendant for coffee. He, in turn, didn’t even touch his small meal: a small steak (each had a choice of chicken or beef), a salad, and a piece of bread. It wasn’t that he couldn’t eat on his own, but thoughts always affect appetite, and in this case, Seishiro would rather starve than try to pick at the poor food.
"I also regret my words. I need to tell Reo. I don’t want us to be separated anymore," he kept thinking about this as the screen in front of him showed only half of the journey completed. Reo would have done anything for him before, so why couldn’t he? Now he could also do more than just play football for him.
Much more.
But what if Nagi hasn’t changed and the same story repeats?
What if he, on the contrary, has changed and become even colder towards Reo?
And what if Reo does or says something foolish again?
What if Seishiro knows about the kiss?
All these thoughts made his head spin, as if he were on a rollercoaster without a seatbelt. Here Mikage goes through a dead loop, feeling held by literally nothing and falling under the influence of gravity. Because in life, he goes through the same twists of emotions at a huge speed, which his heart, for some reason, decided not to reduce by a single kilometer per hour. Usually, in amusement parks, the wagons go around the track about five times, but for him, this ride was endless, like the universe, like the thought of thoughts, as pi number might seem.
Reo thinks too much and too often. He clearly needs to stop doing this, but every time Nagi is mentioned, an automatic mechanism starts, and he doesn’t control a single detail of it. Just like a mechanical clock with a nervous cuckoo at launch.
Mikage rides in the back seat of an expensive car, moving his leg up and down. Definitely not to the slow rhythm of the music on the stereo, but rather to the beat of his own heart. It was incredibly fast. It felt like the organ would fly out of his tight chest, shattering his ribs and running in the opposite direction from the airport.
The second, very hidden and precious part of him wants to run through his lungs but into Nagi's arms. Into those cold but familiar hands. He doesn’t remember how long his fingers were, but he knows for sure that he loved to hold them in his own and warm them when it was cool outside. Reo always thought Nagi was cold.
His teeth bite his lower lip, hoping it would save him from all the problems in the world. As if it would give him confidence in words and actions again. Confidence in himself, after all.
Standing at the large exit where passports are checked, Mikage straightens his back as if preparing for an important event. In fact, it was. It’s only seven in the evening, but it’s already quite dark. People keep coming out to meet their relatives, some leave alone, and others say goodbye and head inside to their next flight somewhere far away. If back then, nine years ago, when Reo was still seriously convinced of his strong feelings, and Nagi had said he was leaving, he wouldn’t have let him go. Reo would have hugged him as tightly as his muscle mass allowed, just to keep him from going anywhere.
He regrets that so much time was wasted due to his fear (and Nagi's fear, but he doesn’t know that).
His attention is drawn to a tall figure in a hoodie. Plain, so usual, but so familiar that it’s hard to judge. It’s cool outside, and he’s just in a hoodie with a backpack on one shoulder and no luggage. Did he literally run out to Reo in Tokyo? If Nagi isn’t reminded of something, he won’t do it: he’ll be lazy and forget… It’s always been that way.
Reo stood and watched as he made his way through all the obstacles directly to him. So far, Mikage hadn’t been noticed, so all he could do was observe all the changes (which, by the way, weren’t there at all). His hair had grown out, just like in the video call yesterday, and his face hadn’t aged. In front of him was still the eternally sleepy, lazy, and straightforward seventeen-year-old guy from his class who didn’t want to play football, not the treasure of the Japanese national team. And that tore him apart inside. Took his breath away. Isn’t it too late to run away?
Probably there’s nowhere to run, as he’s coming straight to him. "You’re mistaken, I’m seeing you for the first time, who’s Reo anyway?" – that’s all he wanted to say, honestly. His brain completely shut off. Just like when he hung up on the phone, not knowing what to say. Even conducting business negotiations, on which the company’s future depends, is easier than all this.
His hand rose on its own, awkwardly moving from side to side. Faster, then slower, and a crooked smile faintly adorned his confused face. His eyes wanted to run away too, darting everywhere but forward. Reo kept telling himself that life is given only once, and there’s no need to be afraid of small things, but even such motivational words didn’t help him out of the pit of worries.
"Hello," when they were already too close to avoid contact (whatever it might be: physical or communicative), Nagi was the first to start the conversation. More precisely, he just greeted him, but from this, one could already draw at least one conclusion – his voice had become lower. What was Mikage surprised about..