Chapter Text
Nagi’s life is nothing. He likes it that way.
When he first activated his esper powers as a child, he lifted a cup into the air. His parents had cooed in amazement, and decided that it meant Nagi could go through life by himself.
Nagi mostly goes through his life in motions. He eats bread every day, because it’s soft and eating is a pain. He showers for exactly 5 minutes, because it’s the optimal amount of time to get him clean. Growing up, he sleeps in class and wakes up to take exams, which he always does well on.
He scores a cushy office job for Mikage Agency. He gets to do boring spreadsheets. Nice.
Nagi is milling around aimlessly as he’s already finished his whole day’s tasks in the first 20 minutes, when he drops his phone he’s been doing game dailies on. He catches the phone with a quick shot of esper ability, returning the device to him safely.
Somebody sees him.
“Let’s do this, Nagi! Let’s become the best in the world!”
His life changes forever.
Now when Nagi walks into the building, instead of getting to nap all day in a comfortable office chair, Mikage Reo quite literally drags him out to dungeons, and missions, and expeditions, always wearing a wide grin.
Despite the fact that he has to fight monsters— ugh— and he has to actually use his esper powers— ugh— Reo smiles and dotes on him. So he thinks it’s a pretty good deal. They’re getting better everyday; Nagi thinks he’d be pretty content to live like this forever, defeating the World Dungeon along the way or something.
Guiding is also something new to Nagi. Beforehand when he would overuse his esper powers (usually to bring bread to his mouth when he was too tired to get up but too hungry to not do anything), he would have a fitful night’s sleep. It was seriously annoying, and a hassle to deal with, so he wasn’t excited about using his powers for clearing dungeons.
But. After he lazily shoots magnificent blasts of power, Reo will whoop and jump on him, and Nagi could physically feel his body warm and lighten up. It makes him feel comfortable, and safe, and confident. The power at his fingertips comes easier the more Reo guides him; as much a service to him as piggyback rides, or washing his hair, or handfeeding him.
Guiding is intimate. Reo doesn’t go halfsies like most guides do, with a simple touch to the wrist or a bump of elbows. He always engulfs Nagi, squeezing his arms around his body and ruffling his hair. It solidifies something to Nagi; they’re more than just esper and guide, they’re partners.
A greedy creature, he wants to be guided by Reo forever. Putting effort into learning and showing off cool esper tricks so Reo never gets bored is, Nagi supposes, an acceptable tradeoff.
On a random day, Reo decides to take him to a specialist appointment rather than their regular dungeon crawl. He goes on and on about match rates, something about efficiency, special combos, whatever. Nagi does find it cool, but he doesn’t pay it much mind.
No matter the number, he and Reo are partners. Nagi’s sure of that.
“Well, we successfully calculated your and Nagi Seishirou’s rate...” the specialist trails off.
Nagi eyes the paper in Reo’s hands with piqued interest. He is curious, even if he’s not nearly as invested as Reo is.
Reo opens the paper.
34%.
“Huh,” Nagi says. None of the numbers Reo had mentioned went that low.
Reo demands more answers from the specialist, before stopping with a, “Just...give me a moment.” Nagi stares at Reo, something stirring in his chest.
He’s never seen Reo like this before. Gaze downcast, brows furrowed, mouth tense. His hands are balled up in his lap, twitching every few moments. The breaths he takes in and out are rickety, like they’re battering to get out. It looks uncanny on him.
Reo lifts to meet his gaze, and his look tenses.
“What does 34% mean, Reo?” Nagi asks softly, as gently as he can, because this Reo looks like he could blow away from a single gust.
“It means,” Reo breathes out, the words struggling to get past, “that we’re mismatched. Our abilities conflict with each other more than they support each other.”
“Oh,” Nagi says. That doesn’t sound good, even Nagi can admit. Reo is clearly reeling from the information.
He has to defeat the World Dungeon with Reo; they made a promise. It’s okay. He just needs to improve, to become such an impressive esper that silly things like better efficiency guiding or combos or tricks don’t matter. That way, he and Reo can, and will be, the best in the world.
But. That means they can’t continue like this, can they?
“We ran both of your wavelengths against other members of the agency,” the specialist continues. “We found an amazing match with Nagi Seishirou. He has a 91% match rate with another guide named Isagi Yoichi. That’s fairly rare, so it’s exciting.” She unfolds a paper, and Nagi sees an icon with a vaguely recognizable face.
“Oh, that short guy,” Nagi comments. He seems rather unremarkable, but maybe Nagi could learn something from him.
“You should try transferring over to his team,” the specialist recommends. “You could grow a lot.”
“Are they good?” Nagi asks, a plan forming in his head. If he can see how other espers operate, he can improve. He can get better— for Reo.
“Here are some of the dungeons they’ve defeated,” the specialist answers, holding up her phone. Nagi’s eyes scan the records, and he straightens up. Oh. That’s promising. Isagi’s team has defeated an array of dungeons, ones Nagi hasn’t even heard of. The versatility is appealing.
For a second, his and Reo’s dream felt far away. It feels closer now.
“Okay, then. I want to transfer.”
Nagi becomes engrossed in discussing the logistics with the specialist. He feels like Reo should be proud of him, taking charge for the first time in his esper life.
At some point, Reo gets up, dropping all the files on the ground. Nagi stares at him. Ah, Reo must be getting bored. The other man did have a short attention span. It was one of the things that nagged at Nagi’s sleep during a fitful night.
He wonders if Reo will get bored without him. Nagi, selfishly, hopes he will be. “It’s alright with you, right, Reo?” Nagi asks.
“Yeah. Whatever. I think I should go,” Reo responds, strangely clipped. When he leaves, Nagi thinks, don’t worry about it, Reo, I’ll be back before you know it.
Nagi is on an expedition with Isagi by the next week. He hasn’t seen much of Reo since, but Nagi feels emboldened to continue, though he misses Reo.
After basic greetings, Isagi treks along the dungeon path without instructing Nagi to do anything. Nagi stands around uselessly until Isagi asks him what he’s waiting for. Ah, what a hassle. Nagi has to decide to do things himself.
It’s not just him and Isagi, but the esper Chigiri and guide Bachira, too. Chigiri laughs at him when Nagi drags his feet along the dirt and rocks. He teaches him how to use his powers to make himself float. Nagi’s done it with his phone countless times before (laying down and hovering his mobile game in the air is the optimum position~), but it’s usually too much of a hassle to carry something as heavy as himself. Besides, Reo’s always there to tote him around, anyway.
Flying is a lot less effort than walking though, so he elects to follow Chigiri’s advice. Man, he misses Reo.
Nagi and Chigiri defeat a pretty hefty monster together, which leaves Nagi gasping on the ground. Chigiri retreats to receive guiding from Bachira, and Nagi idly listens to them crack jokes with each other. Isagi approaches.
“Let’s get you fixed up, too,” Isagi announces, reaching out towards Nagi. He immediately recoils.
“Eh? What is that for?” Nagi complains.
“Guiding? Did Mikage not teach you about this part?” Isagi asks, genuinely confused.
“No, no,” Nagi says, shaking his head. “My only guide is Reo, I don’t need you.” He notices Isagi’s eye twitching from being so easily dismissed.
“Jeez, then why not stay with him...?” Isagi sighs. Isagi is aware of their high match rate, but he doesn’t really care about it. Isagi is mostly partnering with him since he finds the esper— as Isagi does with many espers— interesting. Not for guiding, which Nagi is content with.
“Wow, Nagi is committed,” Chigiri teases. “You should get guiding from Reo sooner rather than later, though. Going without guiding for too long is dangerous.”
“Got it, Princess,” Nagi addresses.
Nagi keeps Chigiri’s advice in mind, and after his first fielding expedition with his newfound team, he texts Reo.
hi, reo.
An hour passes by. It’s uncharacteristic of Reo, but Nagi doesn’t think much of it. Why would he be suspicious of anything Reo does, anyway? He’s Reo. Maybe he’s caught up with dissecting a mutant frog or something, seems like a random side quest he would do.
Hey Nagi! Sorry, busy with paperwork today. You know my bothersome old man.
Oh. Reo is busy, then. Nagi decides he should see Reo later, when he’s not busy.
It makes his stomach churn a little, because Reo is...never busy. Or, at least, he always has ample time to feed Nagi his meals or chatter to him while Nagi plays games. Reo did always have work to do, true, since he’s a Mikage, but he usually invites Nagi over anyway and lets him nap on his lap while scratching away at his papers.
Reo’s lap. Nagi misses that, too.
He distracts himself by texting his team. He’s sure he’ll get to see Reo again soon.
Nagi doesn’t get to see Reo, not for another month.
It makes Nagi seriously whiny at times, and Isagi and Chigiri eye him cautiously when they’re out on missions.
“You sure you don’t want to just receive Isagi’s guiding? You only need a tap, if you think Isagi’s too stinky or something,” Chigiri comments, Isagi sputtering in offense. “Or take Bachira’s. His guiding feels like bees buzzing, it’s really weird.”
The idea of Isagi guiding him through a tap frustrates Nagi. No. Nagi wants his guiding passionate, all encompassing, and directly from Mikage Reo.
“Bzzt!” Bachira exclaims. Nagi groans as rejection, which leads to Bachira fake-chasing him around the field.
He eventually confides to Chigiri that Reo just seems super busy, all the time.
Chigiri scoffs as he holds Nagi’s phone, scrolling their texts. “He probably thinks you’re too busy. Just ask him to go on our next expedition. More guides is never a bad thing.”
He ends up enlisting Chigiri, Isagi, Bachira, and even that overbearing esper, Barou, to help him draft a message to Reo. When Bachira adds one too many emoji, Nagi scraps the whole thing and just sends: Reo. Dungeon together?
Chigiri screeches, because he just spent the last hour helping Nagi write a better message. Isagi comments that at least it’s properly capitalized. Barou hisses in annoyance— why is he still here?
Nagi sees the typing bubble pop up, and hopes. Really, really hopes.
Sorry Nagi, work is too busy right now.
Nagi’s heart sinks.
“Uh,” Isagi says, after a silent moment. “Are you...sure he’s your guide?”
“Yes,” Nagi responds immediately. Because of course Reo is. They’re going to be the best, together, after all.
Nagi ignores the nagging feeling in his ribcage.
Doing fieldwork with his team is business as usual. He finds it quite dull, so he sits back and lets Chigiri clear most of the monster waves. Chigiri scolds him for it, and he responds by planting his feet on the ground and refusing to advance, like a dog that doesn’t want to leave the park.
While he’s lazily looking around for the optimal place to nap, Chigiri, Isagi, and Bachira doing the dirty work—- Nagi catches a flash of purple.
Familiar purple.
Nagi feels elated. Reo followed him out here anyway despite rejecting him over text. Hah, dumb Isagi, Nagi knew they were partners. He supposes Reo is just a bit shy; he finds it uncharacteristic of him, but gap moe is cute.
He belatedly realizes that the falling corpse of a monster is plummeting down towards Reo. No problem. He points his fingers, and shoots. An arrow whizzes out, manifesting from thin air, piercing the monster, and streaking it away.
“Reo,” Nagi breathes out. Look at me. Look at how much I’ve grown. Your treasure is cool, right, Reo?
“Nagi,” Reo responds breathily. He seems a little starstruck, and it makes Nagi puff his chest out in pride.
Unfortunately, their reunion is interrupted by some other esper. Nagi hadn’t even made note of him, assuming that he was going solo. He’s happy to ignore him and catch up with Reo, but then Reo conversates with him.
“Who are you?” Nagi questions the esper.
“Hm? None of your business, death esper,” the esper spits, pink aura emanating off his figure. Nagi glances back at Isagi, who’s approached the commotion by now. Who is this? Isagi shrugs. No clue.
Reo answers for him. “He’s my esper,” shoots out into the air, harsh and jagged. Nagi levels a confused gaze at Reo. Why’s he suddenly talking about me...?
“Oh, I see. You two are friends~ Yep, I got him to come guide me,” the esper sings lightly. Ah. Guides aren’t allowed into the dungeons without an esper, it’s simply too dangerous since their abilities aren’t offensive. Reo wanted to go fielding, and picked up this random esper straggler along the way.
But. Huh? “But...I already asked you to go with me,” Nagi asks, confused. If Reo wants to clear a dungeon so bad, doesn’t he already know he can always ask Nagi? Reo had no qualms dragging Nagi out to dungeons before.
Reo looks guilty, and it makes Nagi’s heart sink. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “I didn’t realize you would be here.”
“Oh,” Nagi says, voice soft enough to his ear he barely hears it. So, Reo didn’t come out here to see him. Okay. That’s alright, Reo probably wanted to take on a dungeon solo. Reo is cool like that.
Chigiri rushes them to get started, and Nagi pouts, not wanting to leave Reo. But if this is what the boss wants, then Nagi will listen. This is all for the sake of their esper-guide partnership anyway.
Luckily, that esper with Reo decides he wants to come with. Yayyy, less work for me, Nagi thinks. Eh, wait, maybe I should try harder in front of Reo. Though, even when he unleashes a sort of impressive flare of power, Reo is too busy putting his nose down and doing research. Reo really likes doing things Nagi would find unbearably boring and a hassle.
So, Nagi is just going through the motions, as if Reo isn’t even there. The dungeon is pretty standard, and not challenging enough to excite him. He can see the esper Reo brought with him getting frustrated at how lame the dungeon is too, and Chigiri just wants to clear it fast enough so he can go home and do his hair or whatever he does.
Bachira is having a good enough time though, because he always does. Isagi is having a great time, since Bachira is. Nagi will gladly leave them alone to bask in each other’s presence. If one of them were an esper, they’d make an amazing pair— like him and Reo.
The esper eventually gets fed up and disengages. Nagi doesn’t really care what he does, but it catches his eye when the esper attends to Reo. Maybe he’s one of Reo’s one million fake friends. The esper swings an arm around Reo’s shoulders. Nagi straightens up with a force.
Is...Reo guiding him?
Nagi’s eyes are darting across the pair. The only requirement for guiding is physical contact, so casual, friendly gestures like that are a common method of guiding. The esper seemed antsy before, and throughout his conversation with Reo he calmed down.
It makes something drop in Nagi’s stomach. He’s Reo’s esper, his partner. Isn’t he? That’s why he refuses to accept guiding from Isagi or Bachira. He only wants Reo’s guiding.
Nagi’s mind dizzies in a way he’s not used to, in a way he’s only ever deemed a hassle. Am I not good enough for Reo anymore? Is he already bored of me, is that why he doesn’t want to see me? This flashy esper, does he fascinate Reo more?
Nagi is Reo’s treasure. Not this esper. When the esper rejoins the fray, refreshed from Reo’s guiding, Nagi blazes with newfound motivation. He’ll show Reo why he’s his treasure. He’ll show him how much he’s improved. Reo promised that he’ll never be bored again, and he’ll make sure Reo isn’t bored either.
Whenever the esper lands a hit, Nagi makes sure to pump out a stronger one. His esper ability might not be as flashy, but its power output and accuracy can’t be faked. When the esper defeats a monster, Nagi defeats the next one faster.
When he glances back at Reo, he catches his awe-filled gaze, so he knows it’s working. Eyes on me, Reo.
The biggest monster of the bunch roars, causing Nagi to draw back. Go. He spawns a ginormous skull, seeding from inside the monster and violently ripping its way out. It completely tears the monster apart, a gray haze overwhelming it. Nagi’s only even practiced it; hasn’t pulled the move off until now, so the shock of it exhausts Nagi. Ah, what a hassle.
He spins around to Reo, anticipating his reaction. “That was cool, right Reo?” Nagi asks, almost pleads. Reo looks at him with stars in his eyes.
“Yeah, of course,” Reo confirms. Isagi comes up and shakes him around a bit, which Nagi ignores.
“Yep,” Nagi says nonchalantly, straightening up a little. See, Reo. He’s so cool. Way cooler than that esper. He wishes that Reo would run up and reward him with an affectionate tackle, but the words are enough.
“Let’s get out of here,” Chigiri complains. Nagi looks at Reo questioningly. He’s pretty tired, Nagi will admit, but he can continue fighting if Reo wants him to.
“Let’s go,” Reo orders. Nagi nods.
Nagi still doesn’t see Reo around. He really, really hopes that he excited Reo enough, but he can’t help the nagging worry that Reo has become bored again. Nagi perks up, momentarily, when he finds out that esper that was with Reo transferred out of Mikage Agency, but it changes nothing about their current relationship.
Besides, Nagi’s been feeling restless, nauseous, and twitchy lately. He can’t even indulge in his beloved naps anymore; his chest feels tight and his heartbeat is far too loud. He’s forced into actually doing things as the only way to distract himself from the tension. Sleep only hits him when he’s utterly exhausted.
Chigiri now routinely scolds him for not accepting guiding from Isagi or Bachira. He starts doing Nagi’s laundry and occasionally fetches him snacks, concerned for his fatigued friend. Isagi shows him esper health articles, and even records advice from Ego to accept guiding already. Nagi locks him out of their team suite for doing that. Bachira tries to bribe him with arcade trips, but Nagi has little motivation for even that anymore, rolling over and only playing mobile games. Even his newfound friends outside of his team, like Barou, and Hiori, and stupid Zantetsu, start to give him advice that goes ignored. (Barou especially and regularly threatens him. He also cooks Nagi lunch sometimes, yum.)
He still goes out to the field. Using his abilities is one of the only things that soothes him, though Chigiri warns him it’s only making him worse (apparently Princess has some past experience).
Still, he’s been erratically improving, which Nagi interprets as a go-ahead from his body. It’s like every expedition he invents a new move, a new way to twist and turn his magic. But, he can never seem to do the same thing twice. His teammates think it’s cool at first, but at this point even Bachira remains unimpressed, since his performance is unstable.
Nagi feels unsatisfied too. He spins in the air and unleashes a whirlwind of skulls, shooting through five monsters at once. It feels like something’s missing.
It also makes him feel awful afterward. His head spins, and his vision blurs. It’s a strange thing, being able to feel blood pump through your body.
He clambers through the Mikage Agency hallways , mindlessly trying to find a surface he can comfortably collapse on. His suit is clogged with dried sweat and blood, his surroundings feel like they’re buzzing, and he can hear only his heartbeat and thick swallowing. Nagi barely registers anything around him, but there’s someone he will always notice.
Reo.
Desperation wells up in Nagi, the feeling encompassing his body. Reo is keeping a distance from him. I need you, Reo. Can’t you tell?
Reo responds, because he quickly hauls Nagi up on his back. Nagi folds immediately, molding his body onto Reo’s like he always has in the past. Warmth filters through Nagi’s body, so comforting it hurts.
Stay with me, Reo. Nagi pleads. I’m sorry, for whatever I did.
The contact isn’t enough. Nagi presses harder, willing for that missing piece. He realizes that no guiding is flowing through the touch— why isn’t Reo guiding him? Isn’t Reo going to take responsibility? That other esper is gone, now he’s Reo’s one and only partner. His treasure. Right?
Nagi clings onto him tighter, like a starving dog, pathetically waiting for scraps. Like a parasite, trying to leech out Reo’s energy.
Nagi squeezes tighter; Reo rips him off, like a bandaid. Come back, Reo, Nagi thinks pathetically. He can hear Isagi frantically dialing someone for help. Come back.
His world stops whirling eventually. It’s less like a gentle return to normal and more like a wheel rusted into stilling. His limbs feel heavy, and his joints feel stiff.
Nagi is curled up in an examination bed. His mouth tastes bad because the nurses made him drink a weird smoothie that’s meant to quicken his healing processes, or something. He thinks Reo might’ve fed him it before, but he had always made sure to dilute it with lemon tea.
Nagi cracks an eye open. Isagi is furrowing his eyebrows at him.
“You,” Isagi starts, “have got to lock in.” Nagi would really rather take a nap.
“Nagi. You’re lucky, man,” Isagi warns. Nagi grumbles. “You could die, and kill all of us, and then Chigiri will really give you hell.” Isagi sucks in a breath. “I’ll tell you this once, but I don’t think you’ll want to hear it. Either accept guiding from me,” Nagi curls deeper into his position, intent on ignoring Isagi, “or make Reo guide you.”
Nagi immediately recoils at the word ‘make’. He would never make Reo do things, because Reo is independent and does cool things like oppose his powerful dad.
Before, he would also insist there was no making Reo guide him, he was Reo’s treasure. Reo was so generous, before they split. He was always guiding Nagi; during Reo limousine, affectionate tackles, even through a split second ruffle of Nagi’s hair. He took pride in it, and Nagi returned that pride. Nagi winces; he’s...not sure anymore. Anyways, there will be no ‘making’.
“If you don’t receive guiding, Ego will make sure you do,” Isagi informs tightly, his nose bridge wrinkled with concern.
Ego, that braindead bowlcut man who understood nothing about esper-guide relations. He viewed guiding as a simple business contract; as casual as a handshake. In the past, he’s snarked to Nagi about the foolishness of his attachment to Reo.
He’ll definitely make Nagi receive guiding from someone other than Reo. Nagi could never do that. If he did, he wouldn’t deserve to be Reo’s partner anymore.
“Okay, short sprout,” Nagi mumbles.
“Hey!”
Nagi needs to forcibly stabilize himself. Somehow. Well enough so that he gets off Ego’s radar. He just needs to get back to his natural Nagi temperament; the slothly, lazy, pain-in-the-ass esper. Nagi wonders if he can use a gentler version of his powers to force it.
“Your heartrate is slowing,” Isagi comments. Then he groans. “You can’t be serious.”
Suppressing his erratic nature sort of works. It helps that his Reo meter increased, even though his guiding didn’t. (Bachira discovers a fun game for boring waits, where he shows Nagi an array of images. If it’s of Reo, Nagi visibly perks up.) Isagi finds it a pathetic alternative. He believes Nagi should just accept guiding, but in the face of a stubborn sloth, he deems it not his issue.
It’s also annoying and a hassle, since he has to really will his tremors away. It works half the time, but half is enough to fabricate improvement. Still, after needing medical intervention, Chigiri puts him on house arrest. He refuses to let him do missions until he receives guiding, so now Nagi has a lot of free time.
Nagi begins to reflect. Being away from Reo is nauseating. He wonders if Reo felt this way, when Nagi transferred to Isagi’s team. It wasn’t his choice, after all, it was Nagi’s.
I’m sorry, Reo.
Reo’s crystal refusal to guide him constantly presses on Nagi’s mind. His first instinct is to walk up to Reo and confess that he needs him like a poor, irresistible stray. Unfortunately, Reo is still being elusive, and Nagi is beginning to piece together that it may have been intentional this whole time.
So, it’s up to Nagi to actually ruminate instead of passing it off as a hassle. Nagi’s pretty strong now; would Reo appreciate Nagi Sedan (not a limousine, Nagi’s not bougie enough for that)? Should he make an ugly abstract painting, like the one Reo gifted him? Should he force Maid Barou to teach him how to make omelettes for Reo?
But when Nagi really thinks about it, the only thing Reo ever wanted from him was his esper ability. Nagi needs to become stronger, more powerful. Deserving of a guide like Reo. He can’t do that stuck in here, even if he trains all day inside the Mikage facilities.
Nagi plays it off normal. He naps, even though he’s awake the whole time behind closed eyes. He crushes arcade games, and wins Bonobono plushies that he gives duplicates of to Bachira. When anybody talks to him, he visibly puts his phone in their face and loudly plays his mobile games (which pisses off everybody, especially King Barou).
When nobody is in the room, he sits unmoving, staring at the wall. Or the mirror. Or a picture of Reo smiling. He has one blurry one that Reo insisted on taking; he’s suddenly hit with the regret that he didn’t take more for all the time he spent with his phone out.
Taking impromptu naps in Chigiri’s hair tie collection eventually wears him down, and he’s finally greenlit to go fielding again. Nagi is eager— excited. He’s been shaping his body up to handle the toll of his esper powers. Forcing his stability, he thinks, is also doing well for his mental state. Ignoring his issues makes it like they don’t exist (it reminds him harshly of his life before Reo).
The mission starts well. The familiar shock of esper ability runs smoothly through his veins, surging out in controlled, destructive bursts. He’s missed this feeling; lazing around all day frustrated him, which the Nagi content to do spreadsheets would be aghast about. He’s changed so much because of Reo.
It feels freeing to use his esper abilities again. Strangely, his power feels alive, its own being working in tandem with Nagi’s snap of arms and kick of legs. As Chigiri snipes out the smaller monsters quickly, Nagi utterly crushes the larger ones. He knows exactly where and how to focus his esper powers; it feels easier than ever before. A monster crashes into the ground; Nagi could nearly yawn.
A straggler stumbles onto its legs. Nagi flashes out a quick whip of esper energy. It’s his lowest effort move yet.
Immediately as the energy dissipates, he feels something deeply wrong. Like his heart is constricting. He stumbles back. The tightness travels through his veins, and he collapses.
“Nagi! Shit!” someone calls out.
The squeezing reaches his esophagus, and he doubles over, retching out plumes of esper magic. The magic is scattered and foggy, a dark, ugly, gray whipping around to form a dangerous storm around his figure. In it, he can see a deathly maw, the one he’s so well acquainted with. It finally turned on him.
The magic roars inside him, pumping through his veins and trying to rip its way out. He’s gagging as it escapes out his airpipe, billowing out of his nostrils and mouth. His throat burns.
Nagi thinks about his specialty move. With the skull tearing its way out of the monster. Is this how that felt?
He curls in on himself, trying to keep his body from bursting. It would be a pretty pathetic way to go. He hasn’t seen Reo smile in ages— if he dies, he’ll never be able to see Reo again. If he dies, he’ll break their promise.
A force, something foreign, grabs onto him. The vagrant magic coos, satisfied for a moment, but it continues to churn. Nagi’s life flashes before his eyes; his mom, his dad, nothing, nothing, nothing, Reo, Reo, pain.
He breathes in air for the first time.
Reo pushes into Nagi, one hand gripped tight on his chin, the other digging into his shoulder, willing himself to guide faster, more. His eyes are squeezed shut, the wind violently whipping around his hair and clothes. There’s a dark pit in Reo’s stomach; even with saliva guiding, his match rate with Nagi is so low it might not even help.
Hands grab back at him. They draw him closer.
Reo can feel the swirling wind around him calm. He continues kissing Nagi, taking intermittent moments to gasp for air before diving back in. The magic dissipates, and eventually, the air around them completely settles.
Reo finally draws back, his face covered in tears and sweat. Nagi is staring straight at him, and Reo feels a jolt.
“Reo,” Nagi whimpers.
“Nagi,” Reo whispers. Nagi collapses, his head dropping into the crook of Reo’s shoulder. “Are you okay?!” Reo asks frantically.
“Uh-uh, Reo. Guide me more,” Nagi whines, and Reo squeezes, guiding him without hesitation.
“Nagi, why didn’t you let Isagi guide you?” Reo questions softly. Nagi pouts, and Reo reassures him with a pulse of guiding; he’s done with his apprehension. If Nagi wants his guiding this bad, then so be it. Reo’s done a lot more for him.
“Reo is my guide,” Nagi insists.
Reo smiles pathetically. “Nagi, you’re not tied to me, I won’t be mad if somebody else guides you. Especially if you’re about to rupture, treasure!” Reo is lying a little bit; he would be, and was, upset. But he’d rather Nagi get guided than rupture. That was seriously too close. Nagi grumbles, in the same way he does when Reo wakes him up early, as if what Reo is saying is just a silly request he refuses to comply to. “Besides, our match rate is so low, it must not feel pleasant.”
“What, Reo?” Nagi huffs. “I only like Reo’s guiding. Actually, I love Reo’s guiding.” It doesn’t make sense to Reo; he’s already reasoned himself into believing he had just simply been the most convenient source of guiding for Nagi. It would be consistent for the white-haired hassle monster. Yet, Nagi chose the most hassleful option; resisting guiding to near-rupture. Perhaps Reo made him dependent.
“Treasure, you’re too stubborn,” Reo sighs. Nagi hums, happy at the nickname. “Ah, my guiding is too controlling.”
Nagi frowns. “What’s wrong with that...?”
Reo ruffles his hair out of frustration. “I’m saying my guiding makes you worse.”
Nagi furiously shakes his head in rejection, before speaking. “Reo is selfish, and forceful, and annoying.” Reo squawks, retracting his hand. Nagi bumps his head back up into it. “And I like it a lot. I like all parts of Reo, and his guiding, a lot.” He stares at Reo, emboldened. “Reo is the only reason why I embraced being an esper, you know. We promised to defeat the World Dungeon together.”
Ah, their wicked, cursed promise. The one Reo thought was dead in the water months ago. It spikes a familiar, hot shame in him.
“Then why did you—” Reo pauses, trying to reign himself in. That one day plays on repeat in his head every night; it makes him want to bite, to lash out, to sob. Still, Nagi doesn’t deserve his resentment. Especially not now. “I mean, you left me, Nagi. Which is... okay... I didn’t want to hold you back... But the specialist, she mentioned a better match and you immediately decided to transfer...” Reo could almost whimper with hurt. “You didn’t even hesitate.”
Nagi blinks lazily, processing Reo’s words. “I think,” Nagi starts, “Reo has gotten me wrong. Um, sorry. You made having a high match rate sound so cool. Having a low match rate isn’t as cool. That’s okay, that just means I need to be stronger, so we can still be the best in the world.” Nagi straightens, a confident flame behind his eyes. “I wanted to try something new. Learn with other espers, become stronger. So we can defeat the World Dungeon, and so you wouldn’t get bored, Reo.”
“Oh,” Reo says. It makes no sense to him at first. He’s hammered in his own internal account of the event over and over again at this point, like an old trodden wives’ tale. His assumptions are layered, fortified, packed in tight— he gradually begins chipping away at it.
“You’ve always been my guide, always,” Nagi sighs out. Reo gazes at Nagi wistfully. “Even though I’m not Reo’s esper...”
Reo jolts to attention. “Wait, what?!”
Nagi lifts his head up, his face crumpling. “That spiky-headed demon... It’s okay that Reo guided him, I guess, but only guide me from now on, Reo...” His pout deepens. “Um... please?”
Reo scoffs. Ridiculous! “What! Of course I never guided him!”
Nagi brightens. “Eh? So the only one Reo’s guided is me?” Reo goes back to ruffling Nagi’s hair, affectionately this time, grinning. “So...that means Reo isn’t bored of me, right?” His eyes are big with worry, like a seal. Affection floods Reo’s heart.
“Of course not,” Reo laughs. “I could never be bored of my treasure!”
“Even if our match rate is low...?” Nagi presses, crooking his head.
Reo harrumphs, and pounces onto Nagi. “Who cares about a stupid number, anyway?!” Processing Nagi’s words is like booze; he feels drunk with elation. “34 is the new 100! Maybe I should make some shirts with that!”
Nagi’s eyes sparkle, and he dives into the hug with Reo, nuzzling his face hard into Reo’s collarbone.
“It was so cruel of Reo to leave me alone like that... I really wanted to see you again, Reo, but you kept avoiding me, eh...” Nagi lightly whines.
“Sorry, sorry,” Reo responds gleefully. Jeez, what a loaded statement, Nagi needs to calm down before Reo overdoses on happiness. Reo’s overjoyed that Nagi missed him too. “How can I apologize?”
“Carry me back,” Nagi simpers. “Reo limousine, please~”
Reo draws back from the hug, and gives Nagi a once-over. He’s covered in dirt, from the magic tornado that had swirled around him. Some blood, which Reo will need to get checked. Nagi, despite looking a worlds amount better from almost exploding, still looks exhausted. Reo feels tired, too. That much guiding was tiring, the only balm being that his esper was Nagi. “Alright, let’s go! We’ll get washed, and then we can take a nap together, okay?”
“Yaaay~” Nagi draws out. “Um, after our nap, we can talk more, Reo.”
“Of course,” Reo agrees.
Isagi and Bachira are gone by the time Reo lifts Nagi up, likely to report the incident to Ego. Nagi has already quickly fallen asleep, lightly snoozing on Reo’s back. He looks adorable.
“You’re telling me the whole story later,” Chigiri instructs, eyebrows knit together in worry. “And Nagi, you better listen to me next time.” Nagi mumbles in response. Reo’s not too close with Chigiri, especially since Chigiri is mostly around Nagi, but he finds him to be an easy companion in the short amount of time they have spent together. He knows he and Nagi have probably given him gray hairs from their drama. Oops, maybe he’ll order some expensive hair products as an apology.
They travel back, clambering onto Reo’s helicopter. From there, all the way to Reo’s dorm, he makes sure Nagi’s feet doesn’t hit the ground once.
For the first time in a long time, Reo can say that he’s happy.
Afterwards, Reo spends his days fussing over Nagi incessantly, which the esper is happy to receive. The reality that Nagi truly could have ruptured haunts Reo. Beyond that, the suffering Nagi’s tolerated the past months is harrowing. Nagi treats it nonchalantly, a side effect Reo is sure came from his esper’s detached parents. Reo drills it into Nagi’s head that he can absolutely bother Reo for any reason, even if Reo is being flighty. Nagi doesn’t indulge in the topic; he responds by simply asking for cuddle guiding.
Nagi is more interested in understanding Reo— it’s something that he confirms out loud he’s trying to improve at. He wants to make the guide cough up all of his misunderstandings. They talk for hours, hashing out worries, insecurities, and deep-seated resentments. Reo’s been suppressing a lot, layers of bitterness and misery that even Shidou has only seen the surface of. Nagi receives it all with a doeful look, before soothing him with calm, sleepy words.
It’s the most Reo’s ever heard Nagi talk. They lay together, and he listens attentively to Nagi’s stream of thought. Reo wants to pinch Nagi’s cheeks once he’s not so flustered by Nagi’s account. His thought process is so innocent, ah. Reo’s is way too jumpy. They really make a horrible match, just like their esper-guide rate. Reo pulls Nagi closer anyway.
“Reo, Ego wants more people on this expedition,” Chigiri notifies. Nagi and Reo have mostly been resting, both recovering from the overexertion of their abilities. Especially since Reo still wants to wrap Nagi in a blanket and protect him fiercely for the rest of his life. Reo has been becoming super restless though (so far very effectual for Nagi’s fluffy hair), and he’s been itching to go fielding. “We’re competing against that team, ugh. So it won’t be easy, but you better be up to it, chameleon.”
“Of course,” Reo grins. He nudges Nagi, who grumbles but doesn’t protest otherwise. “You’re talking about Shidou and Sae, right?” The agency that whisked Shidou away turned out to be an extremely small and extremely elite agency called NG11. Shidou occasionally blows up his phone about how exciting it is. Reo sees Nagi straighten up, and laughs.
“Ugh, yeah,” Chigiri scoffs. He still holds a slight grudge against Shidou since apparently, that one time he was very annoying to work with.
“Nagi?” Reo asks, even though he already knows the answer.
“Yeah, Reo,” Nagi confirms. “Guide me first, so I can be ready.”
“Alright, alright,” Reo acquiesces easily and happily. He lays a gentle kiss on Nagi’s lips, guiding through it. Nagi regularly complains to him that their first kiss was kind of sad, and Reo secretly agrees.
It’s alright, they have a lot more kisses to make up for it.