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Reo lives in monotone.
He’s always waited for something life-altering to happen, like a meteor to strike and break open the earth below him. An epiphany of some sort, that maybe this life had more meaning than just being given everything man could want- be it riches, status, the proper connections and opportunities not granted to all.
He’s aware he has it good, and he isn’t so far detached from the reality of it all to act like his life is terrible.
But is this it? , he wonders.
A grand life given to him that any of his peers would be envious of and a business to inherit under his family name.
Nothing that truly defines him as a person. He was a Mikage, sure, but no one sees him as Reo .
“Look, son, this will all be yours someday.”
His father would tell him of his future as the sole heir to the Mikage legacy early in his childhood.
Look , he was told. And so he looks.
Mikage Reo looks.
And one day he wants to start living .
It’s funny how chance works; funny how the world has its way of bringing dreams to people, or people to one another.
He’s almost sure it didn’t have to be football. Who knows, maybe it was just what he happened to chance upon when he was at the pinnacle of breaking from his day to day tedium.
Regardless, he wants it.
For the first time in his life, he wants something for himself- something that can’t be bought by money nor his family name.
Reo wants to start living, and he wants to do it on his own terms for once. He wants to prove that he is more than just a puppet moving for the sake of the role he was granted; that these hands could grasp a hold of something he fought for through his own trials.
Something tangible and concrete.
Despite being the recipient of his family’s fortunes, surrounded by nothing but the finest goods and material items, he wants something of value for himself. Something he would cherish and treasure, because he earned it.
The trophy on screen has never looked more appealing to him.
Picking up a passion for football was by chance.
It was also by pure chance that he stumbled upon Nagi that day at the stairwell, and he has never believed in abstract and improbable ideas like fate, but he knows something important was set into motion.
He knows it, because when he gazes into the unfazed boy’s eyes, he feels something turning in his mind and clicking together as if he found what he was searching for this whole time.
Like the hand on a clock finally moving after being stuck for so long.
So he tells Nagi to play football with him, because if there’s anything he saw that day, it was the endless potential the other boy held, dormant under those unbothered gray eyes and a demeanor that made it clear he wanted to be anywhere else at that moment.
It was through further observation of the inexpressive boy in the following days and weeks to come that Reo realizes there was hardly any light in his eyes.
He likes to game, Reo notes, but even that couldn’t elicit a genuine emotion from the taller boy. It was probably just something to pass the time, he surmises, since the other boy was hardly ever seen around company.
And he isn’t sure what exactly he was looking for from Nagi himself.
Maybe, Reo catches himself humoring the idea, Nagi was also not living yet.
And wouldn’t it be grand? To find something to live for.
So he persists, pursues relentlessly, and he eventually succeeds in befriending Nagi Seishiro, who found that he didn’t actually mind yielding to Reo’s ambitions and wishes as long as it wasn’t too bothersome.
So the two shared their days together.
Nagi, him, and a shared dream of winning the World Cup.
When they entered Blue Lock, Reo was confident that they would make it to the end.
After all, Nagi and him were a force to be reckoned with. He knew of his own playmaking abilities, and there was never a doubt about Nagi’s incredible skills on the field.
Even when people doubted Nagi’s skills upon seeing his character, or even back in school when girls would comment on his lackluster presence with hushed voices, Reo knew better.
I found him, of course I know how amazing he is.
He saw just how hard Nagi was working for his sake.
Because admittedly, Reo was self-aware and he knew that he was the one who made Nagi pick up football. He was the one who dragged Nagi into Blue Lock.
For someone like Nagi, who would complain about coming to practice after school, or even about walking after a long day… Nagi still relents. He complains, but he always does what Reo asks of him.
And Reo thinks that it’s the first time someone has done so much for him because it’s Reo and not because it’s Mikage Reo.
Even if he is stripped of his family name, his unpleasantries laid out bare (because he’s never had to put up a front for Nagi), the other boy sticks by his side and does things that he would otherwise deem a hassle for his sake. For Reo .
“If Reo says so, I guess I could…” he would say under his breath.
He isn’t sure why Nagi listens to him, but he enjoys Nagi’s company wholly, and he’s found the small moments in the lull of their practice where Nagi leans his head against him to be a sort of solace to the day’s bearings.
He could talk, and Nagi would listen.
He isn’t sure when it began, but he’s certain what he feels for Nagi is fondness.
Reo isn’t sure of what Nagi sees in him- isn’t sure of how Nagi feels- but he hopes Nagi is also glad to be here with him.
And yet,
he finds himself alone.
“I want to play football with him.”
A simple proclamation from his friend with no further explanation as to why he would leave him behind like they didn’t make it this far together for a reason.
Feelings of hurt, abandonment, and betrayal all twist in the pit of his stomach, turning his guts inside out.
He knew Blue Lock was this kind of place, but he didn’t expect to be left behind with no remorse or even a second glance back.
Because didn’t they promise they would stay together?
Was leaving him such an easy choice to make?
(Was he not enough as just Reo, with nothing else attached?)
Whether it was his family name, whether it was Nagi by his side. The fact that he felt so lost and disoriented upon someone leaving him- someone he held close to his unrefined and unabashed heart- made him miserable with his own mind’s inner workings. He shouldn’t be feeling like this.
It’s fine. You are enough by yourself.
But even he didn’t believe in those words. The realization stings like hazardous stitches upon an open wound bursting at the seams. It was self-betrayal.
Was he worth nothing when it was just him, he wonders?
It hurts, and Reo is stuck between bitter feelings of loathing ( and to whom exactly? He isn't even sure, at this point) and a wave of despair that makes him feel as small as he has felt as a child whenever his parents would stay out late for formal affairs while he was sick.
Oh, so this is what loss is.
Mikage Reo loses, and he laments.
During the Manshine City x Bastard Munchen match, Nagi reaches out. He extends a hand out to Reo, and Reo can’t help but think that it’s unfair.
It was unfair to him that the very boy who pushed him away first, who ripped them apart as if they were so easily dispensable- as if Reo was so easily dispensable - would be standing in front of him asking for them to reconcile.
He grits his teeth and feels his hand furl into a fist, fingernails piercing into his palm until he almost feels it puncture the flesh under.
It’s unfair for you to come back as if I would be the same person who would wait for you to look back at me. It’s unfair that you think I’m that easily moved by your words- by your every move, by each breath you take, and the space between us that is crumbling apart despite how much I try to maintain my distance.
He’s at an impasse and sucks in a breath silently. Reo dreads the fact that Nagi thinks he can come back and just hopes to fit back into Reo’s life as if there was still a room there for Nagi.
And he dreads that it’s true. That Reo indeed never managed to fill that gaping hole Nagi left- that Reo still does have a place in his heart, by his side, for the other boy.
He’s always been weak to Nagi.
So when Nagi extends his hand out to Reo and says that everything he has done has been for them, Reo takes his hand.
He might be a fool, but Mikage Reo wants . He wants Nagi here and now, and he has always gotten what he wants.
And when he thinks about it, maybe Nagi has always reached out to him, and maybe they were just two silly teenagers who never learned to express themselves in a mature and sensible way. (And who can blame them? Neither of them had much experience in forming genuine relationships.)
–Because when Reo looks back, he was the one who slapped Nagi’s hand away out of hurt.
They lose the match, but Reo finds that he doesn’t mind all too much. Nagi’s back with him and he knows this is only the start of their journey together yet again, side by side.
What was it that people liked to say? ‘Won the battle, but lost the war?’
The opposite holds true for them.
They go onto playing football professionally, beyond Blue Lock, and at some point they move in together in a small apartment in England, both having signed to Manshine City.
It all starts when Chigiri jabs a teasing remark in passing as they were packing up for the day.
“You might as well move in together with how often you stay over at Reo’s, Nagi,” their friend notes, seeing Reo run his hand through Nagi’s hair as he hands the other man his duffle bag.
Nagi blinks once, twice.
“Reo, why haven’t we?” he asks in earnest, turning to look at the shorter man with his head slightly tilted.
It takes him by surprise as his hand stops in its tracks. “Huh?”
Chigiri lets out a laugh full of mirth before leaving the room, “You two are ridiculous.”
So they look through apartments together and manage to find one that they both found just big enough for Reo to feel at home in but small enough for Nagi to have an excuse to cuddle up to him in the wake of the morning and in between making breakfast or dinner.
Choki sits on their windowsill, in all his glory. It almost seems like just yesterday when Nagi gave him over to Ba-ya, right before the two left for Blue Lock.
In retrospect, Reo couldn’t have envisioned all that they went through to get here today. If he closes his eyes for too long, he fears everything will disappear upon opening them once more. As if this was some elaborate illusion he conjured in his mind to deal with the fact that his once broken heart is now mended and that he was okay.
I’m okay.
And how odd it is, to be okay at the end of the day when he once felt as though the world was a little too heavy for his shoulders.
And oh how easy it is– for Nagi to reassure him that it’ll be okay. And he will believe the other man as he always has.
It’s Nagi and Reo, after all. They’ll be fine.
“Reoo… Choki’s going to wilt if you stare at him any longer. He’s self-conscious.”
He laughs, and oh how light it feels for the breath to exit his lungs with ease.
Nagi confesses to Reo, and really, it was a day like any other.
He’s always seen this in TV shows and movies. Always heard it in passing during high school when the girls in his class would talk a little too loud– too conspicuous.
He’s also been the recipient of one too many love letters and confessions behind the school, standing there in sympathy as another girl bares her heart to him with trembling hands and cheeks dusted pink.
Sometimes, confessions were ordinary; simple, but sweet. These were the ones he often found himself witnessing first-hand. Other times, he’s seen them in all their grandeur– flowers and balloons, gifts in hand, and a romantic setting just to get the mood right. (This is more common in the movies and books, he muses.)
So when Nagi rests his head on Reo’s lap as he’s reading a book on the couch, he doesn't see it coming.
“Hey Reo, I think I love you,” the man breaks the shared but comforting silence in the air.
The peaceful moment shatters then and there.
There is no fanfare, no extravagant set-up. No precursor to the bold declaration given.
It was just a regular Saturday afternoon in their apartment; nothing that would hint or prepare Reo for such an important confession from his friend.
He feels his heartbeat quicken as he looks down from the book in his hands.
Love. Is this also what he feels for Nagi?
“Are you asking me out?” he asks instead.
The other man hums, seemingly in thought, before the reply comes, “Not yet. We can win the World Cup first. I’ll do it– for you.”
Oh.
He fails to suppress an airy laugh, eyes crinkling in fondness at such a statement.
“What, is that my ring? We’re skipping a lot of bases here.” It was meant to be a joke, intended just to tease the other (but in truth, he feels something warm spread into every crevice of his being, and he realizes that this has been happening a lot lately in Nagi’s presence).
He can see Nagi pout slightly, just before breaking out into a smile mirroring his own.
They win the World Cup, and Reo recalls the very moment as if it was the sole memory ingrained into his being.
The high of the match having just ended seconds prior, the rumbling cheers from the crowd, lights flooding into his periphery and blinding everything around him- and holding him high into the air, the one person who experienced this dream with him from the very start.
His treasure.
He has always wanted something for his own, something he cultivated and earned from his own efforts as Reo.
“Reo!”
And when he hears his name called out in such a euphoric voice, his vision blurs. The tears flood his view and he rushes to hide it behind his arm.
He feels Seishiro’s arms tighten firmly around his waist, as if to ground him back to reality.
As if to say This is real, you are alive, here with me; we made it.
Reo feels himself be freed from all of the weight on his shoulders; all the expectations, the self-doubt, the voices telling him that he should give up and stop dreaming.
Against his abdomen, he feels a mop of hair nestle into him and he swears he can hear a choked sob, one from a voice so familiar and yet so different from anything he has heard before.
The lights continue to blind him despite his eyes closing shut to fend off the continuous tears threatening to spill.
He was alive.
He is living, he thinks- no, he knows it. And he also loves .
He loves one man, and he has never been so certain of something before in his life.
If what they had before was platonic, nothing really changes now besides the occasional pecks in passing and a strange, flutter-like feeling budding in his stomach whenever they cuddle. (Okay, maybe it’s always been there, but he’s a lot more self-aware of it now.)
It’s strange, Reo thinks, how natural this all feels. Their first kiss, clumsy and shy (but not awkward– it was never awkward with Seishiro); every touch that they shared.
He remembers waking up one morning, slowly blinking the sleep out of his eyes as he finds a set of gentle, gray eyes staring back at him. And he finds endearment in Seishiro’s gaze, the kind that he has not yet been the recipient of because everyone sees him as a status or symbol to behold, not someone who was made of flesh and bones just like them.
Seishiro stares at him as if he was someone to be worshiped, even behind closed doors and while dead asleep without the world’s presence to keep him on his toes— to keep him alert and ready to fulfill all that is expected from him and then some more.
It makes him want to cry, if just a bit.
“Reo, I want to kiss you,” he hears, and this pulls him out of his stupor.
A statement, and not a question, said with all the care in the world while still being curt enough to express that it was just the simple truth of it all that Seishiro wants to kiss Reo. Like there has never been any question about it.
Fighting the urge to bury his whole face under the covers, he nods, peeking out from the edge of their shared comforter, and he revels in the moment. A soft peck, almost too light to be real, but he finds that it’s more than he could ever hope for.
He isn’t sure he ever expected to be this happy. To be so content with another, to bask in that golden light and linger in its wake.
It’s corny, but Reo thinks he was made for Seishiro and the same holds true the other way around.
For Seishiro who found his life a chore until he met Reo– for Reo who sought warmth and acknowledgement of his existence once he was laid bare of all his baggage.
He wants to believe that their lives were always made to intersect, and so he does.
Even when he is forced to quit football and follow in the Mikage business name, he grips Seishiro’s hand tightly and reminds himself that everything is okay. Because they won the World Cup– he proved his worth as simply Reo. Not Mikage Reo, heir to a multibillion corporate empire, but as Reo the football player who supported the rising genius Nagi Seishiro.
Just Reo and Nagi, as it always has been.
He accomplished what he dreamt of, and now he was living another dream– a new reality for him and Seishiro.
So what more could he ask for?
If you asked Reo who was more likely to care about upholding formalities like celebrating anniversaries and the like, he would probably say it’s him.
If you asked Chigiri, Kunigami, Zantetsu, Isagi, or any of their peers within the Blue Lock circle, they would all say ‘It’s Reo, obviously,’ unanimously as well, without a second thought.
Because who would ever expect Nagi Seishiro, the man who was too lazy to even bother to eat or dry his hair on his own without Reo’s assistance, to bother with celebrations let alone remember special dates?
But Seishiro notices Reo stares a little too long at passerby couples on the street when they head out for some fresh air; notices that Reo’s eyes light up with childlike joy whenever he shows him a picture of some cat on the street who looks like Reo, even if he pretends to be offended.
( “No, he really does look like Reo. Look, he’s sulking. Isn’t he cute.” It’s uncanny, he nods to himself.)
So obviously, Seishiro notes down days he believes are important ( ‘the first day we kissed’, ‘the first time we traveled to the sea’, ‘our half-year anniversary’, and so forth)– he types them down on his phone each time, and he also takes mental stock of whatever Reo seems to like (although Reo has the means to purchase anything he would want, Seishiro makes up for this by hand-crafting Reo items instead).
Some things, he doesn’t need to take note, because he could never truly forget how content and blissful Reo seems as their roles are switched and Seishiro’s the one ruffling his hair gently as the other man leans against him.
He doesn’t need to write down the way Reo’s breath hitches when he plants chaste kisses along the latter’s neckline, or how Reo takes in the moment and closes his eyes fondly whenever Seishiro is explaining to him the plot of an RPG he’s playing as they are about to sleep– because Reo is burdened with so much that sleep doesn’t always come easy to him, and the sound of Seishiro’s voice is enough to keep the intrusive thoughts at bay. (Reo always remembers what his beloved is saying too, and he’ll ask ‘So what happened after that second arc?’ the next morning.)
Seishiro is attentive to Reo. He does it as if he was made to orbit around Reo, and it feels as natural as breathing.
So really, he thinks that bringing a bouquet to Reo on their third month together shouldn’t warrant the surprise on his boyfriend’s face, nor should it have Chigiri and Bachira bombarding him with text messages reading ‘Wow, didn’t know you had a romantic bone in you Nagi’ and ‘Nagicchi, you’re sweeter than you come across, huh? Good for you!!’ after Reo posts the picture on his private social media account.
(Seriously, what do they take him for?)
Of course he would do something as simple as this. Of course he doesn’t miss the way Reo’s eyes widen before a smile overtakes his face, and he looks away all flustered at the sight of Seishiro’s extravagant bouquet of red roses, gladiolus, blue violets, and baby breath, complete with a Kuromi plush settled in the middle of it all.
(Because how uncharacteristic it must have looked to the florist who had to prepare this for Seishiro, standing there tall at 190 cm with a Kuromi plush ready for her to tuck into the bouquet.
Reo’s heart feels so full he could combust.)
They share small anniversaries together, and Reo laughs at him for including ‘the day Reo finally accepts his paternal role and acknowledges that Choki is our son’ as one of them.
While their relationship was by no means purposely made to be hidden, Reo knows better than to flaunt it to the world. Seishiro’s popularity in the football world was increasing at an exponential rate, showing no signs of slowing down.
Reo himself was working day in and out as a Mikage, attending business meetings and leading projects under his father’s supervision. There was no one in Japan who didn’t know of him, and this time, it wasn’t just Mikage– it was Mikage Reo .
He knows their peace won’t last under public scrutiny, despite their personal private lives being no one’s business other than their own.
Of course he understands this; if anything, he woke up to this truth when his parents caught wind of their relationship. And if the utter shock and disappointment in his mother’s forced smile was anything to go off of, he knows their relationship was not one taken in approval.
He doesn’t blame them either– he knows how this all seems to his family and to those working under them. To be the sole heir of such a massive Japanese household name and to chase silly dreams (though, he came back once he was done, didn't he?) and a romance that wouldn’t produce an heir after him.
It might be selfish, but Reo thinks he deserves to be selfish for once in his life.
The future is uncertain, but he just wants to be with Seishiro in this moment in time. To live and to love.
So they share romantic rendezvouses after Seishiro’s matches. They fly between England and Japan to meet one another when they have spare time in their schedule. They hug at airports and facetime in different timezones, even when it was 3 AM on one end or the other.
It would work because they make it work.
The relationship that was only privy to them and their former Blue Lock peers soon finds its way onto tabloids and other media outlets.
“Football player Nagi Seishiro was found leaving the Mikage heir’s private condo in Japan the night after his game in England!” the papers read.
He doesn’t even think this is news worth publishing. Everyone has known how close the duo was, even back in their Blue Lock days. What others might deem as scandalous or too intimate was just normal between them. He knows this.
Chigiri and Kunigami call in and reaffirm his thought process, trying to reassure him that this was nothing to fret over and that no one would think any different. (Bless their hearts, they’ve always been such good friends to him.)
“Don’t let this get to you, Reo. It’ll die down in no time,” the former assures. The latter can be heard in the background of the call in agreement to his boyfriend, also adding that Reo should remind Seishiro to check in and reply to the group chat they shared with Bachira and Rin some time. Reo lets out a tired laugh and thanks the two of them.
“I’ll let Seishiro know,” he replies, “and… thanks, I mean it.”
So Reo understands this was nothing big. That should have been the case at least– but news travels far, he discovers, and it soon becomes everyone and their mother’s issue apparently. (Really, it should only be his mother’s issue, but he doesn’t want to entertain that thought.)
Everywhere he goes, he gets swarmed with pesky news-reporters and cameras pointing at him intrusively. He puts on his most genial smile and leaves each scene with weariness. It’s fine, he thinks, he’s used to being the center of unwanted attention.
He ignores the unsolicited glances he’s given at business dinners or the way he can hear some older man tell his wife that Reo was sullying his name and fooling around with ‘undignified football players’ , as if he didn’t also play the sport himself before.
The urge to defend Seishiro is stronger than the urge to get mad on his own behalf, but he lets the anger boil and simmer down.
This is nothing he can’t handle.
He knows Seishiro has it worse, probably, since he still hates being too in the public eye despite his professional football career.
Nagi Seishiro hates bothersome things. He also hates having to hide his affection for Reo.
Things were simpler back when they were two nameless (well, relatively nameless considering Reo’s affiliation) kids playing club football and no one paid them any heed, save their classmates.
Seishiro never had to hesitate before grabbing Reo’s hand, or note that he shouldn’t wrap his arms around Reo while they were out and about. It’s incredibly difficult, he soon realizes, to have to be wary of everyone and everything while he is by Reo’s side.
He could just reach forward, like he always has, and take Reo’s hand in his– interlocking them as their hands are made to do. Because humans were always made for one another, and his hand fitting perfectly into Reo’s confirms this fact like no other.
He also understands, however, that it isn’t just for his own sake that he has to hold back. Because if Reo gets caught up in this nonsensical scandal any further, it could jeopardize his business relations. Because while he might not have much to lose, Reo has it much worse. There was too much at stake for the heir.
It’s unfair, he thinks, that Reo’s status as a Mikage would be such an obstacle for them. It’s not fair when all Reo has been to Seishiro was just… Reo . Reo with nothing else attached. Reo, who was by his side as plain old Reo– the Reo he loves.
Ah, what a hassle.
He retracts his hand from midair, careful not to follow too closely to his boyfriend as they leave the building.
Reo notices that Seishiro has been a lot more reserved as of late, which is saying a lot. He’s never been reserved in Reo’s presence– never looked like he wants to say something but can’t. Never looked so conflicted and lost in his thoughts.
They spend less time together, no thanks due to their respective busy and hectic schedules and the way in which they need to tread carefully in public settings to avoid any more mass-media outburst.
He can tell it’s taking a strain on the both of them, and he hates it.
He hates that he can’t sever the Mikage name off; hates that despite following his family’s path for him, he still can’t find any solace from these three syllables that has haunted him his whole life.
Most of all, he hates how Seishiro looks sullen these days (and he tries to hide it, but Reo has always been good at reading the other).
He finally understands now what it was that he was looking for from Seishiro back when he first befriended him in school.
A smile suits you much better , he thinks to himself.
The ever-so-rare smile that Seishiro wears on his face, reserved just for him, is Reo’s favorite. And he hasn’t smiled in so long, at least not a genuine one anymore. This realization hits him and settles down into his guts, spiraling restlessly.
He thinks of tranquil moments shared in their small but cozy apartment back in England, so many years ago, and a content Seishiro who hugs him from behind, chin resting in the nest of Reo’s hair, as he wakes up from yet another dream.
And maybe he should wake up now, as well.
It was one conversation amongst many back in their younger years.
Something Reo hasn’t thought about lately, because he was so blinded by his current happiness and in being with Seishiro like he’s always yearned for. A discussion in fleeting that held so much more depth than he realized at the time.
One day, when they were studying at Nagi’s home after practice, Reo becomes acquainted with Choki– Nagi’s cactus.
He found it amusing that for all his laziness and desire to not do anything Nagi would willingly raise a plant. It was almost endearing to witness, if anything.
“Choki was my only friend before you, you know,” Nagi then comments while looking blankly into his notebook, and Reo’s smile then freezes and slowly dissipates.
Reo’s always known that Nagi’s parents were seldom present in his life– the other boy has made it clear whenever Reo would stop by to pick him up in the mornings or drop him off after school. He offered to greet Nagi’s parents, or at least give a gift, but the other boy would dismiss him and say it was okay.
It’s not okay, he wanted to say, it’s not okay that they are never here when this should be their primary job.
And maybe it’s because he has always justified his parents not giving him the love a normal family could due to their responsibilities as a Mikage, but Reo thinks Nagi’s parents should have no such excuse.
Reo accidentally lets it slip under his breath and catches the other boy staring at him immediately after, remaining silent.
“You can’t miss what you’ve never had,” Nagi offers, and it breaks Reo’s heart in two.
For all Nagi says and how unbothered he appears, Reo knows there is no way Nagi doesn’t also crave familial love. At the very least, he deserves it.
Nagi deserves a happy home and a family to come home to when the day is done– he shouldn’t have to live in solitude relying on a cactus for company.
Reo doesn’t miss the way that Nagi’s focus drifts off after this conversation; he doesn’t even pick up his phone again for a game.
Seishiro deserves everything and then more. He deserves to love and be loved without any of this extra baggage that is currently seeping into their everyday life. He deserves peace. There has never been any doubt about this.
Reo’s afraid, he really is. He’s terrified by the idea that maybe their paths didn’t intersect because that was what the world had in store for them, but rather that he forcibly took Seishiro off his path– that even if wasn’t Reo, someone else could have found and taken Seishiro from his monotonous life eventually and he could still be happy.
–And he would be happy without conditions or compromises, none of this tiptoeing around the media or having to deal with invasive questions being thrown at them every time they are spotted together.
He could hold some girl’s hand on the streets, could take her on dates and be loved like a regular person. He could someday start a family and be ordinary; ordinary in its full glory, separated from a life so privy to disapproving eyes and mindless gossip. He could come home to a lively home, the walls adorned with family photographs and a dinner table laid with a home-cooked meal for three.
“Welcome home,” he would hear, and he could say, “I’m home,” back and join his family for dinner, sharing what he did at work while hearing his family tell him their stories. He could live in normality– in peace and quiet and the simple happiness he has always been deprived off, that he probably has dreamed of in secret.
And Reo can’t give him that. He can’t, and he would have done anything to be able to.
For as long as Reo lives, he is a Mikage first and foremost. He will never be out of the public eye. He will always be in the limelight, regardless of his desire not to be.
Reo can’t provide Seishiro with the life he deserves. And if there’s a chance things could be right again, he is willing to take it.
“I’m returning the keys,” Reo says unceremoniously one morning. He shoves the keys into Seishiro’s hands and explains nothing as he begins to pack up what little he had in the other man’s apartment.
Seishiro furrows his brows, confused. He tries to tug on Reo’s arm, but is shaken off.
It’s ironic, Reo notes, that this is the first time Seishiro has looked so animated in so long. When was the last time he smiled?
“Why? What’s the matter?” His voice is laced with a pain so well-disguised as being casual. Reo winces.
“I’m breaking up with you. There’s no reason for me to have the keys here when I won’t be stepping foot into this place anymore, is there?” He tries for indifference and hopes that all his years of building a persona for the public has helped him perfect the art of lying to others the way he lies to himself.
He doesn’t dare gaze into Seishiro’s eyes; doesn’t dare look at the face he will so dearly miss the moment he steps out this door. He’s never been strong when it comes to Seishiro.
Seishiro’s head drops slightly as he finds a focal point on the floor to stare at, away from Reo. “Is this what you really want? I… I just want to know.”
He doesn’t ask for the reason Reo is parting with him, and Reo can’t help but think that it’s because he also knows. Seishiro is also aware that they can’t love each other the way they want to. And in any other setting– in a different life, with different circumstances– Reo would have fought for them. He’s sure Seishiro would have too.
In another world, maybe they could have lived a quaint life. One without anything tying either of them down, one where Reo didn’t have to stand in the public eye to the extent that he did, one where Seishiro could grow up in a happy home and make regular friends, and even if he didn’t meet Reo, it would be okay. But if he did meet Reo, maybe Reo would have been an ordinary man who could love Seishiro with all his being and not have to worry about the consequences it would have. Maybe they could have lived a life different from this one.
But this isn’t that life, and Reo’s been lost in his thoughts as he folds his last shirt into his suitcase. Seishiro still stands behind him, waiting for a response.
Reo bites back any tears that might creep its way into his voice. He composes himself, because he knows Seishiro would be able to tell if he was crying. And it would end this act, which he couldn’t afford to risk.
“Yeah.”
He pauses, taking a sharp intake of air before continuing. “I realize that I have responsibilities I can’t keep running from. To begin with, this was never about us.”
Seishiro clings onto his every word, waiting for something– he doesn’t know what.
“We only existed in the sphere of football, Nagi. I’m sorry if I made you think otherwise.” The words come out strained and lack any real bite to it. He can’t put forth his best act at callousness, but he hopes the words are enough to sting. He hopes Nagi is hurt, and he hates that this is even necessary.
He hopes he will be hurt, and he begs the universe and whatever force there is out there that Nagi will find happiness beyond this moment in time. It’s a bit hypocritical, to hurt him and wish for someone else to mend this scar he’s inflicting on the person he loves, but he wishes for it anyway.
This is just a short transition period for them. Life will go on, as it always has.
They were like perpendicular lines, intersecting briefly at one point, but then set into motion again thereafter, set on different trajectories once more.
Nagi doesn’t say anything for a long time as Reo zips up his suitcase and makes his way across the apartment to the front door.
As Reo leaves, he hears the last words he would hear from Nagi for a long, long time.
“Thank you Reo, and goodbye.”
Reo is a terrible liar. At least to Seishiro.
He can’t tell if it’s because Reo cares too much about him to properly lie to his face and mean it or if he has just grown so accustomed to Reo when he’s being genuine and unguarded that he can just tell when the other is faking his emotions.
Either way, Nagi Seishiro knows. Reo doesn’t mean it.
They didn’t just exist for football. If they did, Reo wouldn’t have stuck with him after they won the World Cup; wouldn’t have stayed with Seishiro even when the former made his grand exit from the sport.
So he knows Reo loves him, because the other man wears his heart on his sleeve and has always been so vulnerable in that same way.
But he also knows that Reo is not his and only his to keep. He knows Reo is Mikage Reo, begrudgingly. He knows that Reo cares much more for his family than he lets on, and that he does want his father to acknowledge him and his worth. He wants his family to accept him after all he’s done; it was what he worked for.
He might curse his fate being a Mikage, but he has the makings and charisma– the intellect and innovative mind– befitting his name. He was made for big things, and his name isn’t just there for decoration.
No, Reo really is amazing. Seishiro’s always known this from the very first day he met him.
Reo had always expressed that he yearned to earn something by his own hands and prove that he was more than just his family name. Seishiro wanted to tell him, but has never managed to, that he already was more than just that.
It’s terrible, Seishiro thinks, that Reo was blind to his own excellence just because of those three syllables that clung to him. It’s terrible that he thought nothing he had was one he could call his own when it always was. Not only that–
But I was yours.
Seishiro laments that no one could make Reo see his own worth beyond everything. But he knows that Reo is coming to terms with his role, knows that Reo is finding purpose in leading the Mikage name now, and that he is rebuilding his relationship with his parents.
His parents had never been awful human beings either; they just wanted their son to realize that sometimes life held more weight for certain individuals than it did for others. Once Reo accepts it, of course things could improve for them.
So Seishiro takes the break-up in stride. He doesn’t point out that he can see Reo’s hand shake just the slightest bit as he turns the door handle to exit the apartment for good. He doesn't stop him.
Reo deserves a second chance at a somewhat conventional family. He deserves to be acknowledged by the people he held important to him.
Seishiro closes this chapter in his heart, cherishing the memories they shared together.
For the monumental life force that is Mikage Reo, he’s glad he could take up some space in his heart– even if he was never meant to stay.
Mikage Reo entered his life one day like a meteor, and he left just as abruptly.
Years pass and life is okay, he finds.
Reo adjusts to his life as well as anyone in his position could have. Between the day he left Nagi and now, he is now officially engaged.
His fiancee is a nice woman just two years younger than him, and he isn’t so naive and immature as to hope for true love and someone who somehow detaches his family name from him. Because the truth was, he was a Mikage. He’s adopted the name fully and realizes that there are just some things he cannot escape from.
But she loves him in her own way, and it isn’t just for his money or status, as she also comes from an affluent family herself.
He isn’t sure if she was forced into this arrangement by her parents, but he’s thankful that she’s considerate enough of him to hide it if she was.
Time passes, and he thinks he does love her. Loves her in the way anyone would grow to love their partner as long as their partner was a good enough person to them.
And maybe love didn’t have to be grandiose and passionate. Maybe this was enough for people like him and her.
It was a day like any other.
He was coming from a nice dinner date with his fiancee, exiting the establishment, as he somehow meets a familiar face.
A face he hasn’t seen in ages but can still remember like it was just yesterday, unrivaled by time itself. Etched in his memory like permanent ink that would never smear.
“Reo?”
Ah.
A voice so familiar, yet also different in ways he could only credit to time.
Nagi Seishiro looks at him, one hand holding a woman’s, the other clasping a younger child’s.
The sight doesn’t shock him– he’s the one who’s wanted this for Nagi more than anyone– but it does look strange to him at first. It was different wishing for something than it was to experience it in front of his very eyes.
But one thing was certain: He’s relieved that Nagi was able to move on like he had.
He’s relieved that he genuinely wishes the best for them, and that what he felt in his heart was just that and nothing else.
It’s funny, he thinks, how he would have been so distraught over this scene if he was younger and still caught up in the most exuberant period of his life.
But time has a peculiar way of amending broken feelings and heartache, the same way it can bring people together. Because people can learn to love.
They once loved one another, and now they loved other people. Time has worked its course.
Perhaps it wasn’t the same; he isn’t sure anyone could ever compare to Nagi Seishiro, after all. But when he looks at Nagi and his wife with their kid, his heart is filled with warmth. When he holds his fiancee’s hand in his, what he feels is silent comfort.
He smiles, before saying:
“Long time no see, Nagi. I’m glad you’re doing well.”
And he means it with his entire being.