Chapter Text
For the first time in a couple of months, he isn't in a hurry: all the papers are signed, all the employees are happy, and the company continues its stable existence. No rushing back and forth, just a drive home with his personal chauffeur and glances out the window.
It's beautiful outside.
The young man would even say it’s insanely beautiful. He had rarely gone out for a walk after finishing school, as classes at a foreign institute and helping his father took up a huge amount of time. And now, having completed his studies, he could completely forget about friends and entertainment. Such is the fate of the heir to the largest business company in Tokyo – Mikage.
Mikage Reo.
Remembering all this, he wants to think: "Why not take a walk in the park at least once?" Just once. Breathe some fresh air, look at the quiet city routine. Distract himself from all the main and secondary matters, finally. Because that's how the years will pass, and he won't even notice. Like a snap of the fingers, there's no other way to describe it. Honestly? Reo never imagined his adult life this way (well, how to say, his surroundings always prepared him for this outcome).
"Stop here," he blurted out as soon as he noticed the gates to a park named after some important figure of the country in the past. He didn't remember exactly who, and it didn't matter. Who even remembers these names? Maybe in his school years, he would have answered confidently, knowing history better than anyone, practically, in the entire school. "You can go. I'll let you know when to come back. Here."
A quick nod from the driver, and he gets out of the car. In the middle of autumn, it’s not hot at all, but it’s not freezing cold either. There are dreadfully few people around – not even a couple of them. Probably because it was working time for government workers. It sounded funny that, having his own company (family-owned, to be more precise), he just now found a couple of minutes to rest like this.
Walking along a small path surrounded by trees and flower beds, Reo observed the small details around him. So primitive and mundane, as if there aren’t already at least a million such parks around the world. Everything is at hand: a bike and scooter rental station on the left, a local coffee shop with two tables outside further down. The main attraction is the fountain, around which people usually gathered. Simply horrifying.
As he approached that fountain, voices suddenly rang out from the side:
"And who should we ask? There’s no one here!" One person sighed loudly and muttered something else. He didn’t catch what exactly.
"There's some man walking... Maybe him? We’ve been waiting for so long."
Mikage didn’t realize they were talking about him, so he just kept walking until he was called out with a loud "Excuse me!" As it turned out, one voice belonged to a young girl holding a phone to her chin, and the other to her peer (he couldn’t determine exactly), also filming everything on his smartphone.
They looked like ordinary teenagers, even in school uniforms. That's what happens when you go out for a walk once a year – you immediately find adventures for a lifetime (of course, nothing had happened yet, but when someone calls you "man," it becomes very, very awkward). How old is he? Twenty-six? And now it feels like all one hundred forty. Soon, he will be elderly, for heaven's sake.
"Can we ask you something?" The girl was met with a highly questioning and bewildered look. Well, can he actually refuse?
"Yes, of course."
"Who was your first love?" And she brought the recorder closer to his face, waiting eagerly for an answer. Her companion also waited, holding the camera aimed straight at them.
Oh, yes. Reo had seen something like this. English videos on social media (where he sometimes manages the store network’s accounts) about people approaching elderly men and women asking about their first love. There are always some incredibly romantic stories about lifelong devotion. What could he say?
Nothing.
"People usually ask this of those much older than me," Mikage couldn't help but laugh at how many years they gave him. He really is turning into an old man, isn’t he? "So why me?"
"For goodness' sake, we can’t find anyone to ask! Only happy couples or moms with small children, and we urgently need to finish the video," she sighed and spread her hands. Well, indeed, given the sparsity of the park... "Besides, you look like, um... a grown-up, right?"
"She’s trying to say that you look like you're over forty, have a lousy job that exhausts you all day. And an unhappy wife, three kids, and a ten-year mortgage on an apartment," her companion with the camera yawned, showing he was already tired of walking around. He said everything clearly and straightforwardly, leaving Reo speechless, literally. That was definitely a low blow, and he should start paying attention to his appearance. At least a little.
"Hey! That’s not true!"
To be honest, Mikage did start to think. First love. The first heart flutters, the first butterflies in the stomach. When did that happen to him? Maybe, at least, all the attention he paid to someone, or the free time he shared with someone else? To whom he dedicated his patience and effort... It can't be that in all his years he’s never been in love.
He thinks. Tries to remember someone so remarkable to whom Mikage Reo’s love was given. It’s hard to rewind every memory in his mind in search of something specific. Suddenly, a vivid image of a soccer ball pops up.
No. Oh no.
Not those snowy-white hair like the clouds themselves. Can he rewind the moment when he decided to stop his chauffeur and go back? At least go to another park, completely empty, Reo would beg on his knees. Just not him.
"I don’t have a wife, kids, or a mortgage... But I found my love on a staircase," the guy looked not at the person asking, but through. Somewhere not in this world, much, much farther. Perhaps he wanted to magically dive into a memory now covered in white snow. "The rest of the story is too long. I don’t think it’ll fit your video, and it might get boring."
"No, no, tell us! We need something. Besides, seeing yourself on video, isn’t it nice?" While her friend sighed wearily again, she just smiled. They reminded Reo of someone very familiar and dear. He should have thought about nature today... "We can even sit on a bench, and then just insert the sound of the story, okay? I’ll cut and edit everything. Don’t be shy."
First, they sat him on a bench, probably thinking his back and knees would soon break (which was the pure truth. His sides were already pricking from the short walk, he should take up sports and remember his teenage years). Second, they told him not to be shy. Reo felt extremely awkward in the situation, but since the students needed material, he could spare a few extra minutes. Probably.
As hard as it was to remember everything that happened so long ago...
"Speak into this," she brought the phone closer to him while the three of them sat on the bench.
"Okay, so...," he tried to speak as clearly as possible to avoid future problems. "As I said, I met my love on the staircase at school, about nine years ago. He was sitting on the steps, playing some video game, and I accidentally bumped into him. His phone fell, but I was extremely surprised when he caught it with his heel. Like a pass in soccer. That was the first time I met his dark eyes – the eyes of Seishiro Nagi."
"What?!" The girl's friend choked at Mikage's last words. "The famous Japanese soccer star? Nagi Seishiro? No way!"
Oh yes. Reo had completely forgotten. Now his former partner was a great star in Japan, performing incredible tricks with the ball on the field. Probably, he shouldn't be surprised by such a reaction. Many young people, teenagers, and boys were fans of players, especially such skilled ones.
"Don't interrupt, idiot!" For such a sharp question, he got a slap on the head from his friend. Yes, it’s impolite to interrupt such an interesting story, you know! A story about his first love. "We don't want to re-record. Speak, he’ll stay quiet."
"Alright...," he raised an eyebrow at that, because the girl also became more interested in listening. Apparently, being familiar in the early years of fame with the most talked-about person in recent years is incredibly exciting. Well, you can't argue with that. "I played soccer myself. Now, of course, it’s not so obvious, but I was really good. I was always good at everything, and then I saw the World Cup, which you can't get for any amount of money. You have to strive and show yourself in a new light. That jump, the way he caught his phone... It was something amazing to me, and without a second thought, I offered: 'Let's play soccer together!' He recognized me because I was the most popular person at school. He asked if I would give him money," Reo chuckled at his own words. He remembers every detail of their acquaintance. Crazy, right? "He didn’t want to play soccer. Nagi was very, I repeat, very lazy about any activities. His routine consisted of games and sleep. However, despite this, he got the highest grades (not higher than mine).
Seishiro Nagi fascinated me so much that I was willing to indulge his every whim: I dragged him to practice after school, drove him home and to school in my car, and carried him to the locker rooms on my back... Everyone was convinced I had gone mad, befriending someone so unremarkable.
My father didn't want me involved in any of this, as I was supposed to inherit the family business. He pitted another, stronger team against our school team, one that was soon to become Japan's youth national team (so they claimed). We beat them handily, and shortly thereafter, Nagi and I started appearing in the local newspapers. I was agile, and he was simply a genius. Everything was a bother to him, but one day, as I carried him across the field (nicknamed "the limousine" back then), he said I was strange. Just out of nowhere. He was surprised that I never got tired of him, and I replied that I actually had fun with him. And I wasn't lying. I asked if he, in turn, felt good with me. He replied, Well, I wouldn't say it's all trouble with you."
"Do you remember every word?" asked the young man. The girl glanced angrily at him for interrupting their interview subject again. This was far from the end of the story, just the beginning, only half of the life period being recounted. The listeners were hanging on every word with burning interest.
"When it comes to people who matter to you, you try to remember as much and as clearly as possible. If it were someone else, I might not even remember their name."
He remembered because it was Nagi. His Nagi once.
"Then we received letters. Invitations to a project called "Blue Lock," the teenagers' jaws dropped at the familiar set of words. "Before going there, Nagi left his friend, the so-called cactus, in the care of one of my father's staff. She then asked him to take care of me. We were seventeen and hoping for a bright future in soccer, so I led him into this project.
The topic was the ego of strikers. Would you score when standing one-on-one with the goalkeeper, or would you pass to your teammate on the right? Some said teamwork was better, some didn't listen at all, and someone specific ran ahead. I honestly don't remember who it was. Out of three hundred people in the building, only Nagi and I were left. He didn't want to go. Said he'd get bored. The project owner called him a spoiled brat and said talent could be found anywhere and that only one striker would remain, not both of us. Basically, he sent us away rudely.
I shut them both up. I declared that my ego was to make Nagi the best in the world. I then gave him my most heartfelt promise, that I wouldn't leave him there alone, that I would show him a life better than any video game. It was our mutual promise."
"Were you familiar with everyone from Blue Lock? Even with Yoichi Isagi? Red Panther Chigiri Hyouma? Shidou Ryuusei?" The boy started listing names further and further, not giving him a chance to answer positively or negatively. Of course, he knew each of them, even played on the same team with some.
"Can you shut up already?!"
"It's okay... Yes, I was familiar, but let's get to that later, if I may. The project started simply: dividing into teams. I'll skip the stage where one was eliminated. Details are unnecessary. There were five teams and we played against each other. The losing team was permanently eliminated from the soccer world. Nagi, another guy, and I did nothing but score goals. Once, we faced a team led by an arrogant guy who called himself the king. If I remember correctly, his name was Barou.
They were losing, and he was furious. Seeing our game, he called Nagi my slave and tackled me so hard I almost flew into the air. Nagi caught me and responded that I was his partner. Maybe that was the moment I felt his care for me? Thought, "He does care about me!"
That's when I started calling him a treasure. You know, he just appeared out of nowhere, well, isn't that a gem?
Our last game was against a team led by Isagi. When we started losing, Nagi saw I was in trouble and ran to me. Before that, he hadn't moved an inch from his spot near the goal. We lost five to four, I think. Despite this, I remembered the moment he worried about me. I couldn't sleep that night. Too many good thoughts were swirling in my head."
"You said you were scoring goals. So why did you lose?"
"If only three of us were seriously playing on our team, then on theirs all ten. The eleventh player deliberately tripped Nagi when we were about to win. I won't hide, I was furious and almost got a red card.
The second round began: one hundred goals against a virtual goalkeeper, each individually. The successful players had to form teams of three and play against each other. One team wins – they take a player from the opposing team. If no one chooses a player and he's left alone, he automatically gets eliminated. Harsh? Quite.
Initially, Nagi and I waited for the third guy who was with us. You know, we were already familiar, knew each other's strengths, it would be very convenient. Fortunately or not, the name comes up again: Isagi. He and his blond friend were waiting for a third player too. Nagi approached him, suggesting he join us (though I was against it, I didn't say anything). When he refused, Seishiro joined them, leaving me. I was incredibly annoyed by his behavior then. I gave him all of myself, and in the end, I was left alone. Unpleasant feeling.
Later, Isagi's former teammates, Chigiri and Kunigami, came by. I remembered them well; we got to know each other quite well while on the same team. As you might have guessed, I teamed up with them. I thought, "I'll make Nagi need me." We took a long time to decide who to play against, and in the bath, we saw them: it turned out they lost to the top three players, losing the bee, and later got Barou into their team. Out of anger, I declared us enemies. We arranged a three-on-three game. That night, I didn't sleep either. Thought about how it happened that we became opponents, agreeing to go through this together? I blamed Nagi. The whole world. Myself.
The battle began the next day. I can't remember the details, even if I try. I only remember something happened between Isagi and Barou, causing our team to lose... I couldn't accept losing to the same opponent three times (the second was when they preferred him over me). We were incredibly close to victory, but it turned out my pass was so predictable that they anticipated it in the end. I just stared at the grass then. Couldn't believe it. My eyes darted back and forth, just not on people. They had to choose a player, and they debated for a long time.
Hyouma. Chigiri Hyouma. They called his name. Not mine. We were all in despair, but he just told Kunigami he'd wait for him on the other side and left with his head held high. I was still kneeling. Helpless, and Nagi approached me. He started saying I played well, and I, fully immersed in resentment, replied: "Then why didn't you choose me? Or did you forget our promise?" His response hurt me a lot."
"What did he say?" The girl couldn't contain her curiosity. Reo never thought it would be so interesting to listen to someone else's love story. Half of the tale wasn't even about love; it was about his stint in the blue lock. Actually, almost no one knew about that except him. Mikage paused before speaking again.
"You wanted to be just a useless trophy on the shelf, huh? Looks like you've forgotten your promise. Though, I don't really care. Do what you want. You bored me like a thorn in my ass," teenagers gasped. Well, because that was really crude. Directly. Very, very painful. "It seemed like I forgot how to breathe. How to blink. How, in principle, to continue to exist. It seemed like I was slowly falling apart either from anger or disappointment. I just didn't move. Isagi shouted last that it was necessary to choose yourself, not to wait until you were chosen. Then I thought, 'Didn't I choose Nagi not the stairwell? Didn't I choose whether to spend time on it or not?' Kunigami raised me by the scruff and ordered to watch. Watch as they leave without us. Remember this moment so that we get better. I remembered. I remembered how Nagi became tedious with me. How I became ballast for him, though he told me quite differently.
We also lost the two-on-two game. Shido is difficult not to remember because it was incredibly easy to beat both of us. As sad as it sounds, Kunigami flew out. Shidou decided to choose me. I think anyone would have chosen me except Nagi, haha. Every night I thought about everything that happened. Every time I convinced myself that it wasn't good enough. Every dream was about me falling behind. As if every night I relived that moment, experiencing the same feelings as then. Insanely painful occupation.
We went through the next stage, entering the room with six other teams. The squabbles began, where is Kunigami's hero, who would lose for anything, but I missed everything through my ears. It was hard for me to see his face again, so carefree and serene. Compared to my daily torment from what happened, it seemed like he didn't care at all. Now he's so cool, tough, knows how to play football himself and doesn't need any help. He doesn't need any partners. I still feel angry inside as I don't remember these relaxed eyes.
When all the remaining players gathered, Ego (the project manager) appeared and announced that we had a problem. We had to play against the Japanese youth team. Then we had diligent training with the top six players of the blue prison: divided into three teams, each of which had two top players. Everyone else chose which team to join, and I hesitated for a long time. One of them was Nagi. With him, I could play the best, but my pride didn't want to return to the one who threw you. It took me a day to decide and I finally stopped in Nagi's team."
"Why didn't you try playing with other top players?"
"It wasn't about who was comfortable to play with. We spent six months together, no one could separate me from him. I was terribly nostalgic. No matter how offended I was, I really wanted to return everything. To prove that I could play like a football genius," Reo fingered while telling it all. It was easier to concentrate. It was easier to distract thoughts. "Therefore, at least on the field, I felt like we were together again. I probably sound desperate and very stupid right now, but at seventeen, I really thought so. When everything in your life was always served on a silver platter, and suddenly you find yourself a forsaken dog, common sense leaves reason. Then I clearly realized two things: he was no longer my Nagi, and it was no longer my treasure.
During the game, I found that I could copy other people's punches and techniques. My indicators were all equal, without standing out. If someone developed speed to the maximum, and the rest to a minimum, I had everything above average. Scoring a hyperbole top player goal, I asked Nagi a question: "Is this still not enough for you?" He answered that yes. Not enough. I was eager to catch up with his level. Become better, stronger, faster. Then I didn't understand yet that I was no longer playing for the World Cup, but to be with Seishiro. To bring him back, to be next to him again, to make it clear that I am worth his attention, love. I filled the hole in my heart with the thought that soon he would recognize me. Didn't sleep, didn't eat, didn't rest, just trained.
It was time for a battle with the youth team. I wasn't added to the main lineup, to my great regret. They played the first half, leading. If you watched the game, you know that Nagi got the very first goal. I was so glad, sitting on the bench, that I almost smiled to all my teeth. After the end of the half, they went on break and I asked, "You are capable of more, right?" And got a positive answer. Said he could do much, much more. I wouldn't know.
To my joy, two players left the stadium and put us with another partner in the second half. In fact, the coach ordered me to monitor the actions of the opponents and fully study their features. So I did, going into defense, copying their main midfielder. Finally, the world saw my abilities. Admitted me. Recognized what I am capable of. I was screaming in my head, "Look everyone, it's me!" But in secret I thought that Nagi would be proud of me. That he would look at me with the same smile with which I looked at him. That he would experience the same happiness of being on the field together.
We won, and when we celebrated, everyone rushed to Isagi and Nagi. They were having fun, congratulating each other, shouting loudly that it was a victory. I watched them nearby, sighing heavily. I didn't feel the same as they did. There was no victory for me, no majestic glory from the last goal scored, as before. It had been ten minutes, and Nagi didn't even look in my direction. He was happy there - with someone else, new. Apparently, even then, I didn't deserve his attention. Honestly? I never thought I would pray for the slightest sign of love from a person who wasn't endowed with anything but the ability to play football. I had everything before we met, and he had almost nothing. After the trip to the blue prison, we swapped roles.
After the victory, Ego gave us all two weeks off outside the blue prison. Visit family, hang out with friends, stay at home. Returning to my room, to a soft bed, I didn't fall asleep then. Again. Apparently, I had incredible problems with sleep," he laughed slightly at his own remark. "That night I completely pondered. About myself, about Nagi, about our relationship with each other. About my feelings, about his behavior. People are prone to change: to improve themselves or to sink to the bottom, we all know and accept this. It's just painful to see how your dear friend changes for the better, but moves further away from you. I thought that I wouldn't be able to live without him in the future. Released it. Created thoughts about universes where we would never have met, where I would never have found him, where I would not have felt anything for him except friendship. These 'What if' filled my brain more and I stopped on the judgment: 'If I leave earlier, it won't hurt so much.' It was easier for me to admit my father's victory than to meet him again on the field.
Once we went bowling with the Blue Lock team. On the same weekends. Their company was so complete that without Nagi I didn't fit in there. I just... existed nearby. Wandered like a spirit or ghost. I turned into Nagi's shadow. It was awful. I left."
"Wait, what do you mean you left?" She raised her eyebrow and shook her head.
"From the project. After a two-week break I just didn't come back. Or rather, I wrote a formal letter that I was leaving them and refused further participation for personal reasons. Pushed it off to the fact that I was being transferred to a large company for management," Mikage shrugged. For him, it was the best decision at the time and he definitely wouldn't have come up with anything smarter. In the heat of emotions, it's hardly clear what's right and what's not.
"Seriously?! You did so much and went through so much! You dreamed of the cup! Even in the blue locl, which is the dream of many footballers. I can't believe you could have become a world league star, my God!" Her friend, in turn, raised her hands. The advantage of not removing it on camera while the girl was recording everything on a dictaphone, gave freedom of action.
"I didn't have the desire to continue. At first, the dream was really mine, but after we gave each other communication with Nagi - everything changed. It became mutual. The desire became something more, and my perception of events was different. Seeing that he didn't need all this... I felt abandoned. Lonely."
"Did you tell him about your feelings? Sympathies?"
"No. And I wouldn't say it. He was a genius, but not enough to understand how precious he was to me. Or maybe I was just not brave enough to find out about his own feelings towards me. What hurt the most was the fact that over these nine years, he did nothing. Didn't write, didn't call. I avoided sports news, didn't want to see him again. I was angry and sad. I still remember everything about his favorite things: the lemon tea he loved, which he would only drink if I made it; the cactus I also took care of; his favorite season, spring, because it's neither too hot nor too cold, and you don't have to fuss about what to wear." Reo smiled briefly at the pleasant memories.
He lied when he said he couldn't remember. Reo remembered every tiny detail about Seishiro Nagi. He would always remember.
Especially etched in Mikage's memory was the moment he last drove Nagi home. After bowling. The future soccer star fell asleep, resting his head on Reo's shoulder. He couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to touch his first love. Mikage leaned in, slow and gentle, so as not to wake him, and left a small kiss. Not sensitive at all, as if nothing had happened. Reo knew Nagi was no longer his, but he couldn't accept it. He couldn't help but make the smallest gesture, to leave his mark. He still drove Seishiro home, still together, in the same car as then, but it felt uncomfortably eerie. Strange and not as it should be.
"Maybe you should call him? I think if you talked, maybe everything could work out..." The young lady shrugged, looking for a solution to someone else's problem. Reo felt they weren't doing it just for show anymore. Usually, stories about first loves end with a name and either they died or are still together, but he had this mess. "You probably haven't loved anyone else since then, right?"
Yes. However much he wanted to forget, to let go, to never think about it again, everything resurfaced. Every drop of sweat, filled with worry and longing. Every sparkle in his eyes at the mention of that familiar name. A smile from the shared picture in his mind.
Mikage shook his head and spoke after a couple of seconds.
"Our paths diverged. He has his own life, long devoid of any mention of me, and I have mine, where only faint memories of our friendship remain. We're not seventeen anymore, and my time has passed." Reo was afraid to hear his voice. The guy took out his phone to check the time, realizing he had spent a good two hours in the park. The walk should have lasted a maximum of fifteen minutes—was his story really that long? "And it's already time for me to go... Time flies, and you don't even notice. Glad I could help."
"Wait! Can I at least know your name?"
"Mikage," he turned around, already on his way out, "Mikage Reo. My first love was Seishiro Nagi. I loved him deeply. That's the end of the story."
Behind him came shouts: "That millionaire guy! Mikage, the company owner!" If he were honest, that brought a fleeting smirk to Reo's face. He just picked up his phone again, calling his driver to let him know he was alive and well and ready to leave.
A crazy day.
Crossing his threshold, he felt, to put it mildly, empty. Once freed from domestic duties (as if he didn't have staff), Reo practically collapsed into the chair in front of his laptop.
He absolutely had to stop there, and now he had to make sense of everything that had happened over the past decade? If he could go back in time, he probably wouldn't go there. Although, if such an opportunity existed, he would have completely removed football from his life. No football, no Nagi. No Nagi, no painful memories. No memories, hence no love at all... No, he wasn't ready to let go of everything he had experienced.
The only thing he regretted was that the kiss had been too light. Maybe if Seishiro had felt it, they could have talked things through. Been together. Achieved their "happily ever after", something they deserved and needed. Did they go through all that just to choose different paths in the end, never to meet again, avoiding each other? Reo had always been ready to give him his heart. It's just that Nagi didn't take it.
"Call him," it's easy to say. Earlier, it was only Mikage who took the first steps, actions, but he had grown up. He wouldn't try anymore just to achieve nothing in the end (even if fear guided him that it would all repeat itself rather than prudence).
Reo doesn't know why, but he's already searching Nagi's name in the browser. He's diligently trying to find something. The freshest thing he managed to find—a video interview with him and Isagi, two days ago. They had evidently won some foreign team again and earned deserved recognition and fame. How many times will Reo ask himself "why?" and then answer in his head "I don't know." It's by this principle that he presses play. Fast-forwards somewhere in the middle, not wanting to see the beginning.
"Nagi, you mentioned once that you can't stand any types of coffee. What drinks do you like then?" The voice from the gadget asked a strange, silly question. Who even asks about favorite drinks in an interview?
"Well," the camera shifted to him. Almost nothing had changed: eyes still indifferently tired, of a dark golden hue; the voice loud but sounding almost in a whisper. Only his snow-white hair had grown a bit longer, the front strand now reaching almost to the end of his nose. Those features always shone in his mind as a clear picture. "I like lemon tea." He still loves this thing. Reo knows it by heart because he personally brewed it for Nagi every day at school. It was a habit, so constant and unchanging. "But I don't drink it now. No one can make lemon tea as good as my old friend. They're all tasteless. I miss him."
Maybe Reo should finally overcome his fear and find his number.