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Nagi watched as rain drops littered the top of his windowsill. He made sure to move Choki away– too much water would do more harm than good for the plant. Still for some reason he had forgotten to close the window, hence his current dilemma.
It would be the normal thing to do, for any normal person, to simply get up and close the window. But Nagi was always far from normal, wasn’t he?
He chose to just watch as his blanket got soiled with the droplets of cold rain. Nagi began to shiver slightly from the wind that managed to slip in. Are the dorm heaters not working nowadays?
His phone laid flat on the table beside his head. There was only so much Nagi could play before even he got bored.
Honestly, there wasn’t much of anything for him to do. His assignments were complete and stuffed messily into his bag. It didn’t even take him long to finish.
There was the option to cook, his stomach did feel odd. Maybe he was hungry? His usual supply of jellies that he had filled his fridge with at the start of the semester was now completely depleted.
Oh, maybe he could go out and restock. That would be something for him to do.
Yet, as he contemplated the situation more and more, each option started to feel like a hassle. That was why he was laying here– watching the dull, grey sky showing no signs of letting the sun through. Oddly, it reminded him of himself.
He would eventually fall asleep, or at least he hopes to. The day goes by faster when he does. The sound of the rain helps, he thinks.
The rain was getting heavier now. The droplets started to hit his face. This won’t do.
He buried his body under the semi-wet blanket, shielding himself from the onslaught of rain.
Did Choki feel cold, like how Nagi was feeling? Sometimes, he wishes his scissor-shaped cactus could speak. That would be cool. He’d know how his prickly friend was feeling. Maybe Choki could give Nagi suggestions for what to do on days like this. But it would be weird for a plant to talk, right?
Was Nagi weird for talking to a plant in the first place?
He bought Choki specifically to have someone to talk to. If another person saw him conversing with the plant, what would they think?
Well, it’s not like this is something Nagi would have to worry about. There wasn’t anyone around to notice his atypical behavior, anyway. There probably won’t be in the future either. At least Nagi was safe to act how he wanted here, with only Choki as his witness.
His eyelids grew heavy. Finally.
Eventually, the sound of rain was fading. Was it his dulling senses or did the skies clear?
Whatever it was, Nagi didn’t bother finding out. As long as he had some quiet, it was all fine.
Nagi had known from a very young age that his parents thought having him was a mistake. He knew it then and he knows it now.
But it was a very different form of knowing that comes with getting older. When he was a child, he’d try to do anything to make that thought go away. His parents could want him if he tried hard enough, right?
The thought made him cringe now. Did he really want attention that bad?
His parents were working day in and day out before they had Nagi. A work ethic like that was not so easy to get rid of.
Taking care of Nagi while handling a 9 to 5 was easier said than done. Nag certainly didn’t make their task any less difficult.
The two of them had to reorganize their entire life schedule once maternity leave was no longer an option. They began working on separate days, spending less time with each other and more with Nagi.
It was then that they realized their mistake. If either of them had a more stable, well-paying job, they wouldn’t both have to toil their lives away trying to support a family of three.
Unfortunately, hindsight was 20/20 and now they had to accept the situation for what it was. The adoption centers near them were at max capacity, and with Nagi’s uncooperative behavior, they’d probably refuse to take him anyway. Their relatives were in the same boat. A few of them had tried to babysit Nagi while the two of them went to work, but one day with the child was a dealbreaker for them.
So now, they were stuck having separate shifts both at work and at home. It was easy to convince themselves that their plan would work out eventually– that Nagi wouldn’t be as much of a burden as he originally was. All children took some time to get used to, right? But, in practice, their relationship wasn’t equipped to handle the strain of having another being in their lives.
Both of them had suffered for it, and in turn, Nagi did too.
The stress of both their jobs had bled into every aspect of their lives. When taking care of Nagi, they couldn’t bare to fake a smile for him any longer.
Countless parenting books had denoted the importance of displaying emotions– positive emotions, in front of one’s child, but they simply couldn’t do it anymore.
Feeding, bathing, coddling, everything about taking care of Nagi was a hassle that they’d rather not put up with anymore. Still, they recognized that this was their mistake, one that they needed to take responsibility for. So, their newborn baby continued to live under their roof, unaware of the hostile feelings being directed towards him.
When he was still just a few months old, Nagi would cry and cry for an ounce of attention. It was his mother’s turn to look after him that day. She fed him, changed him, and even stuck a pacifier in his mouth, which Nagi had eventually spit out. Why wouldn’t he just stay quiet?
She reached into the crib, picking Nagi up into her arms. This was what he needed, right? She’d jostle him around for a few minutes and he would fall asleep in her arms, just like any other child would. But Nagi had proven time and time again that he wasn’t like any other child. He took one look at the frown her mouth had deformed into and started to cry even harder. The right side of her head started pulsing, she couldn’t take it anymore.
She couldn’t smile at Nagi and sing him to sleep, like any other mother could. She couldn’t read his mind and give him what he desired, like any other mother could. She couldn’t withstand the noise of his cries and rock him to sleep, like any other mother could.
What was the point of standing here, staring down at Nagi with a face of abhorrence? With a sigh that was extracted from the very depths of her soul, she set him down back into the crib. There was no point in offering him the pacifier, it was a wasted effort. He’d spit it right back out in favor of crying her ears half to deafness anyway.
She walked to the dresser of her bedroom and looked for the bottle of Ibuprofen. It wasn’t too difficult to find. The drug had become a crutch for both her and her husband ever since Nagi came into their life. Lately, the effects of it have been waning. Her body must have gotten numb to the pills from how often she took it.
The crying in the background only got louder. He probably wouldn’t cease this form of torture anytime soon.
There was a coat left draped across her desk chair. She hastily grabbed for it and exited the room, nearly slamming the door shut behind her.
If she had to endure a second more of his incessant crying, she’d surely lose it. There was just no way for her to handle him with a smile anymore. Nagi could cry until his tiny lungs gave out for all she cares.
The day Nagi met Reo felt like a culmination of both fate and luck. Nagi had never been lucky ever in his entire life, it must’ve all been saved for this one moment.
If Reo’s mind wasn’t littered with unvoiced thoughts, if Nagi didn’t choose to distance himself from the rest of school on an empty stairwell, if Reo had watched where he was going– then they might never have uttered a word to one another.
At first, Nagi was slightly annoyed at the intrusion. He didn’t think anyone would wander this side of the school during their lunch hours. This, too, must’ve been something fate played a hand in.
Sooner or later, Reo had managed to convince Nagi to take part in his dream of winning the World Cup. Nagi wasn’t stoked about having to devote his time afterschool to something other than his bed, but it wasn’t all bad.
Like when Nagi would score a game-winning goal that made Reo rush his way without a second thought. The purple-haired boy wouldn’t hesitate before jumping on Nagi’s back, slightly ruffling his hair.
But that wasn’t what made his efforts worth it– well, it was certainly part of it, but not the complete reason.
No, it was when Reo would beam at him like Nagi was someone deserving of such a smile. The upturn of Reo’s lips, the slight blush to his cheeks, had churned Nagi’s stomach in a way he didn’t know was possible.
It was the same smile that practically hypnotized Nagi into agreeing to play football with Reo.
Nagi still found it hard to believe that he was the sole reason for the blinding smile on Reo’s face. The proof however, Reo’s bright features so close to Nagi’s dull ones, was something even he couldn’t deny.
If Nagi could draw out more of these expressions simply by playing with him, then maybe it wasn’t so bad after all.
When Nagi was four years old, he realized that loud noises were one of the things he hated most in the world.
He’d been watching some cartoon that his parents left running for him. They both finally took a week off work expecting to find themselves relaxed by the end of it, but things never went the way it was supposed to in the Nagi household.
The yelling match taking place one room down the hallway was proof of that. Nagi could barely hear the characters of his show anymore and he had no idea how to turn up the volume.
He decided to check out the situation, waddling over to the door of his parent’s room.
“-s not my fault he turned out like this!” his mother screamed.
Who were they talking about?
“I told you we should’ve looked at more adoption centers. Eventually someone would’ve taken him.”
“We didn’t have the time for that.”
“And now look where that got us. God, we should’ve just left him at their door. Not like they’d be able to return him then.”
“It’s too late to dwell on our past mistakes,” his mother sounded more resigned now.
“Isn’t this entire conversation about a past mistake.”
Nagi was getting tired of standing in front of the door. He decided to take a seat in front of it instead.
“I’m not having that talk with you right now.”
“If not now, then when? We have to deal with him for the rest of our lives,” his father pressed on.
“What do you want me to do? I can’t fix him.”
“Well, I can’t deal with this anymore. That little–” he took a deep breath and exhaled, “I’m still trying to catch up on two weeks worth of work because that kid spilled coffee all over my laptop.”
“I know . You don’t think I have trouble with Seishiro, too?”
Oh. They were talking about him. Nagi was the reason they were yelling at each other.
“He’s a complete hassle to take care of. I just can’t do this anymore.”
“So what? You’re just going to leave?”
“What other option is there?”
“Stay. And deal with the problem you helped create,” it sounded like his mother was gritting her teeth.
“Look at us. We’re pathetic.”
“What?”
“We used to love each other, didn't we? Until that kid got in the way.”
“We did. It feels like so long ago now.”
“There’s still time to just leave all this and go back to our lives from before.”
His mother was hesitant, but spoke anyway, “you know the guilt would eat us up.”
“Probably,” his father laughed dryly.
“You’re right about him being a hassle, though.”
Why did they keep calling him that?
“I just wish– I wish he’d just leave us alone. Or at least shut up. I’m tired of hearing his cries.”
“He’s too busy making our lives miserable to do that.”
Nagi didn’t like what he was hearing. He got up to go back to the couch. Somehow his right leg caught on his left one and he tumbled to the ground, his body hit the floor with a loud thud.
Ow. Nagi covered the part of his leg that hurt with both hands, a poor attempt at soothing the ache.
Immediately, the door to the bedroom shot open.
He had the urge to cry, but with all his four year old might, Nagi managed to suppress it.
“What the hell were you doing?”
Nagi ignored his father’s question and walked back to the couch as if nothing happened. He didn’t interrogate him further.
The TV was still on, his show was still playing. Ah , he could finally hear the voice of his favorite character again.
“Nagi!” Reo called out from the door to the rooftop. He was slightly late today.
The purple-haired boy took his spot next to Nagi on the ground.
“Look what I got,” he handed a plastic bag to Nagi. The usual soft smile Reo had reserved solely for Nagi was plastered on his face. Nagi couldn’t help but feel warm at the sight.
He stuck his hand into the bag, pulling out its contents. Lemon tea. Reo remembered his favorite.
“Oh, thanks,” was what Nagi settled for, not knowing what else to say.
He never knew the right words to use in moments like these. It felt kinda pathetic, Reo does so much for him and Nagi can’t do something as simple as showing gratitude for it.
The thought made his hands wrap around the bottle, the coolness of the drink was a balm for his sweaty palms.
Why did Reo do so much for him anyway? Surely his efforts could be better spent on something that was worth Reo’s time.
Slowly, he dropped his head onto Reo’s shoulder.
“Hmm?” Reo asked, “you’re tired?”
Nagi shook his head.
“Alright,” Reo snorted, “then what’s the matter?” he said before running his fingers through Nagi's hair.
This was another thing Reo did for him. He worried about his well being. He bought Nagi things for no reason besides “I just wanted to.” He soothed the ache in Nagi’s chest with the simplest of touches.
Didn’t any of this feel like a hassle to Reo?
“Reo, you’re weird,” Nagi has said this once before, but the sentiment still holds true. He understood when Reo said he could tolerate Nagi just fine, but at some point he’d be over it, right?
Reo gave him a deadpan stare, “do you want me to take your drink back?”
“You’re still not tired of me?”
That caused Reo to look taken aback, realizing Nagi was serious about this. Did he spoil the mood?
‘Of course not. I’d never get tired of you,” Reo said like he wholeheartedly believed the statement.
“But,” how does Nagi even begin to voice his concerns, “isn’t all this kinda a hassle?”
Reo turned to look at Nagi, who still avoided Reo’s gaze from his place on the purple-haired boy’s shoulder.
“What’s a hassle?”
“Reo doing all these things for me. Aren’t you tired of it?”
The hand in Nagi’s hair ceased its movements.
“I don’t think it's a hassle. If this was something I didn’t enjoy, you know I wouldn’t do it.”
“Mm. But I don’t do anything for Reo.”
“You’ve done enough already, you just don’t see it.” His hand went back to scratching gently at Nagi’s scalp, “besides, I don’t do these things for you expecting anything in return. I just like–” he hesitated for a moment, “You are my treasure, aren’t you? Who else would I spoil if not you?”
Reo’s words left no room for argument. So that was it, then?
He didn’t think of Nagi as a bother. Nagi wasn’t slowly ruining his life. He wanted to go through the trouble of being with Nagi.
Reo was weird, after all.
The Hakuho entrance exams were easier than Nagi had expected. Why were his classmates fussing over something like this?
He’s watched countless students stay back after school for extra tutoring, joining cram schools, and pulling all-nighters for the sake of passing this exam. Nagi didn’t put much effort in until the two week mark and evidently that was enough.
There was an army of parents waiting outside with flowers in their arms, ready to congratulate their kids on their acceptances. Nagi tried weaving through the crowd to the best of his ability. He doesn’t understand why they were so excited over something like this.
When Nagi finally got home, he placed his acceptance letter in front of his father. He looked at the paper questioningly before reaching for it.
“You were accepted into Hakuho?”
Nagi shrugged.
“How’d you manage that?”
Rather than answering any of his father’s questions, Nagi just stared at him blankly.
“You know how far that school is from here. We can’t move our entire lives for this.”
“They have student dorms. I can stay in those.”
His father’s eyes widened, “they do?”
Nagi nodded.
“Alright, we’ll look into it.”
It always confused Nagi as to why Reo was so impressed with his grades. If anything, Reo was the impressive one for always coming in first.
Yet here they were, at a restaurant of Reo’s choosing, celebrating their recent exams and goals.
Nagi got tired of eating hallway through his meal, but as usual, Reo didn’t seem to mind.
“Do you want me to feed you?”
Nagi shook his head, “Reo can finish his food first.”
“Aww, aren’t you being thoughtful today,” he giggled before bringing Nagi's plate closer to his side.
“Here,” he brought a spoonful of food close to Nagi’s mouth, “I can multitask.”
Somehow, his food tasted even better when Reo fed it to him. Maybe Reo should be a chef.
“Reo?”
“Yeah?”
“What would you do if I completely bombed an exam? Or if I missed a game-winning shot?”
Reo pretended to think, bringing a hand up to his chin, “I’d ask ‘where is my Nagi and what have you done with him?’”
He tried very hard not to linger on the phrase “my Nagi.”
“Reo,” Nagi whined, clearly dissatisfied with his answer.
“Okay, okay,” Reo sighed, “I would be surprised, I guess. But even geniuses need a break sometimes, right?”
“So, Reo wouldn’t be mad if that happened?”
“Of course not,” Reo snorted, “why would I be upset over that?”
“Because Reo likes to celebrate. He can’t celebrate if I don’t do good.”
Reo flicked him on the forehead, “it’s not that I like to celebrate dummy , I’m just proud of you. And I’ll be proud of you even if you fail.”
Nagi’s chest ached for a reason unbeknownst to him.
“Even if I cost you one of our games.”
“Even then.”
Nagi wasn’t sure what to do with that information. Was Reo silly for celebrating something so trivial, when Nagi put in the baseline effort for these outcomes?
“Reo says the weirdest things.”
“Look who’s talking,” he said, but still laughed at the comment anyway.
By the time Nagi reached high school, he was well aware of how the rest of the world perceived him.
A weirdo, an outcast, a bad omen– he’s heard it all at this point.
And the thing is, he’s gotten used to it. When you hear something enough times, it begins to sound like a broken record. Irritating, sure, but at some point you start to tune it out.
The other thing is: Reo has not gotten used to it.
That is evident by the way his brows are furrowed and his jaw is set as he approaches the group that whispered a thing or two about Nagi. Maybe they said something about Nagi being weird or Reo being out of his mind for spending time with someone like that. Nagi wasn’t sure though. He was too focused on whatever Reo was talking about.
But Reo, he had always been the more attentive out of the two of them. His ears perked up at the sound of Nagi's name, only for it to spoil his mood when he heard something he didn’t like.
At first, Nagi had no idea why Reo shot out of his seat so suddenly. He just watched as he walked to the other side of the nearly empty classroom.
“What was it that you were saying about Nagi?”
Nagi’s eyes widened. This was the first time anyone’s ever confronted someone for talking about him, Nagi hadn’t even bothered doing it himself.
“We didn’t–”
The group of boy’s tried to explain themselves, but Reo wasn’t hearing any of it.
“I heard you loud and clear. I don’t want to hear any of that ever again, do you understand? Nagi is more special than any of you will ever be.”
“We’re sorry, R–”
Reo interrupted them again, “Not to me. Get up and apologize to him.”
The three boys looked at each other before standing up to walk to where Nagi was seated.
This was awkward, but Nagi wasn’t going to say anything now that Reo was angry.
“We’re sorry, Nagi! Please forgive us!”
Nagi couldn’t help but think how stupid the three of them looked, with their heads bowed, pleading for Nagi’s forgiveness.
“It’s fine,” Nagi said before getting up and taking Reo’s hand.
Reo made a noise of confusion behind him, but Nagi was dead set on getting them to the rooftop.
Once they were there, Nagi dropped to the ground, gently pulling Reo down beside him. His heart was beating faster than Nagi could comprehend. It was overwhelming.
He decided to shift his body so that his head laid on Reo’s lap.
“Reo,” he closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing, “what was that?”
“You saw what that was. Those jerks were talking about you however they pleased. As if they amount to anything when compared to you.”
Nagi opened his eyes. Reo was still angry. His tiny brows were still wrinkled in displeasure and his hands were balled into fists.
He’ll have to deal with this one problem at a time.
With a turn of his body, Nagi reached a hand to Reo’s forehead. Reo looked a bit silly when his eyes crossed to zero in on Nagi’s hand, but that was much better than him being angry. Slowly, Nagi placed a thumb in the middle of Reo’s brows and smoothed out the lines he found there.
Once he was pleased with his handiwork, he brought the same hand down to Reo’s fist.
“What are you–” Reo started, but immediately shut his mouth when Nagi began to pull his fingers away from one another, carefully interlocking his own with Reo’s.
Nagi brought their joint hands down to lay on his chest. With how hard his heart was beating, he’s sure Reo can feel its abnormal rhythm. He was glad Reo didn’t bring it up. The explanation was embarrassing.
Seeing Reo go out of his way to defend him like that.. Nagi felt like he was on cloud nine.
“Why was Reo so angry?”
“Even you should know the answer to that.”
“But why does it matter so much? People have been saying stuff like that for years now, Reo should learn to ignore it too.”
The purple-haired boy turned to stare at Nagi like he grew a second head.
“Learn to ignore it? Nagi–” he trailed off.
Nagi gave Reo’s hand a squeeze, urging him to continue.
He sighed, “Look, no one should be saying things like that to you. If I heard it any sooner, I would’ve said something then.” He narrowed his eyes at Nagi, “actually, you should’ve told me sooner.”
“I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”
“It is.”
“Why is Reo so bothered about it?” He wants to hear an answer. A specific answer that could maybe explain why Nagi was feeling so breathless just by looking at Reo.
“Because they don’t know you at all, yet they talk about you as if they do. I know you, Nagi. I know how amazing– how special you are. They don’t get to act as if you don’t deserve me being with you, not when that’s the only thing I ever want.”
Something tugged at Nagi’s heart. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his eyes started to sting.
“I just– I can’t stand when anyone says anything bad about you. You’re a treasure. You shine brighter than anyone else. They should all see that,” his grip of Nagi’s hand tightened.
“Sometimes,” Nagi started, “treasure is hidden. And only one person, one special person, is given the map to find it.”
Reo laughed, “I’m glad I was able to find you.”
Upon seeing Reo’s dazzling smile, Nagi choked on his words. Instead he brought their intertwined hands to his temple, hoping to convey the feelings he couldn’t utter out loud.
With how Reo’s eyes softened at his actions, Nagi’s sure his feelings were well received.
Nagi watched as rain drops littered the top of his windowsill. He made sure to move Choki away– too much water would do more harm than good for the plant. Still for some reason he had once again forgotten to close the window.
Whatever . He couldn’t be bothered to get up now. Instead he let the stray droplets hit his body, not moving a muscle to prevent it.
There was a distant sound, probably the front door, that made his ears perk up. He continued to stare at the dull, grey sky before the reason behind the noise stood before him.
“Nagi! You’re going to catch a cold like this!” Reo’s voice broke through the sad silence of Nagi’s empty dorm room.
Reo climbed over Nagi’s body to get to the window at his bedside. He reached for the top of the window, pushing it down, and instantly shutting the rain out.
“What am I going to do with you,” Reo sighed fondly as he took in Nagi’s current state. He sat over Nagi and leaned down to wipe the rain droplets that still littered his face.
Wow. Reo was so perceptive. He didn’t even notice the wetness on his face until Reo rid him of it.
The sound of rain began to fade as light filtered through his window.
“Do you want me to close the curtains– is the sun bothering you?” Reo asked, always so thoughtful.
Without answering his question, Nagi pulled Reo down onto his chest.
His feelings for Reo were beyond overwhelming.
“What are you doing?” Reo tilted his head to look up at him.
He brought his lips to Reo’s forehead before shifting him over to lay by Nagi’s side.
“Enjoying the sun.”
Reo snorted, “you’re so corny.” But the blush on his face betrayed his true feelings.
“You love it.”
“I do.”
Nagi was always glad to settle into the comfortable silence that came with simply staring at Reo until one of them fell asleep. It was only once he heard the delicate rhythm of Reo’s heart that Nagi was able to go under as well.