Chapter Text
It was always one more drill, one more goal, one more set. That’s what Reo told himself.
Nagi and Chigiri were evolving too fast. Faster than he could. So while Chris was focused on them, Reo was focusing on the empty and unused field
No one locked them after practice. They were supposed to. But no one ever did.
But even the strongest people have limits.
Reo—or really, his body—was exhausted. Every day was the same: wake up, help Nagi, practice, help Nagi, practice more, stretch, watch game footage, train, make sure Nagi went to bed, try to sleep, wake up in the middle of the night, and practice until it felt like enough.
Then do it all over again.
Now it was 4:39 a.m.(maybe) Reo stood alone on an old field from the First Selection, one that no one used anymore. Dust covered the baseboards, and the air felt stale, heavy. Like the room itself had forgotten what it was like to be used.
His legs shook beneath him, exhaustion pulling at every muscle. He swayed like a dead leaf in the wind, barely able to stay standing.
Every shot missed. Every ball rolled past the goal. His stomach twisted, and his vision blurred at the edges.
But just one more.
Just one more goal.
He lost track of time after the fifth shot. Maybe morning practice had already started. Maybe only a few minutes had passed. He couldn’t tell anymore.
Balls were scattered everywhere, like wreckage from a crash. Some had even rolled onto the pitch. His shots were getting weaker. His body slower, his muscles barely able to move.
But he kept pushing.
Because he wasn’t Nagi. He wasn’t Isagi. He wasn’t even an Itoshi, or some other super genius. He was just a spoiled, replaceable, useless excuse for a player.
And he had to prove that wasn’t true.
"One more," he muttered, but his throat was so dry it barely made a sound. His water bottle sat untouched by the door, forgotten.
He set up the ball. Stepped back. One deep breath.
He ran up, swung his leg—
…
…
…
…
…
And missed.
His foot barely grazed the ball before his standing leg gave out. His knee hit the ground hard, sending a sharp sting up his leg. But the pain barely registered, because all he could think about was that he missed.
If this had been a real match, he’d never live it down. Hell, he’d be kicked out of Blue Lock.
His head pounded. His legs ached. His chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out and stomped on. His hands trembled as he ran them up from his cheeks into his hair, gripping lightly.
The edges of his vision darkened. Everything felt far away. His ears were ringing, his breath shaky and uneven.
The alarm had been blaring for at least twenty seconds before he even noticed.
The pattern of buzzers started again, probably for the 4th or 5th time. He finally looked up at the huge screen on the field, where the time was shown.
7:48:51…52…53…54…55. You get it.
He sighed and pushed himself up. Slowly. His whole body screamed at him to stop, but he forced himself to stand.
Then it hit him.
Practice started at 7:15.(Technically 7:20, since Chris always made them stretch first.)
His back snapped straight. Ignoring the pain, he ran for the door. Didn’t even bother to grab his water bottle.
He ran into the old changing room, and out into the hall. Pieces of the rubber under the turf stuck to his knee, but he couldn’t bring himself to brush them off.
But he barely made it a few steps down the hall. And there he was,
Chigiri.
Standing outside the locker room. Arms crossed, and waiting.
The two didn’t move or even talk for a while. Before Chigiri sighed, red hair fell over his shoulders. “You look like shit.” He stated simply, gesturing to Reo’s overall lack of cleanliness.
“I know.” The chameleon couldn’t look up at him, bags visible under his eyes.
“Chris sent me to find you. You’re late for practice.” Chigiri pushed himself off the wall
Reo didn’t respond this time, his vision was too unfocused.
“You can’t even stand straight anymore. What the hell were you thinking?” Chigiri’s voice raised, Reo swayed lightly. He got closer, finally seeing Reo right in the eyes.
“I’m fine, okay?” His voice came out more of a growl, but it sounded pathetic. He had to be fine, he couldn’t fall behind. He took a shaky step back.
He heard the princess scoff, “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.” He crossed his arms again, his eyes narrowing at Reo. He stood in front of him, stopping Reo from taking another step. The hallway went quiet again, and the only sound was the fan coming from the vents,
“Move.”
“No.”
The exchange was beyond simple. But it broke something inside Reo, he felt something tear and rip and shred. His fingers twitched before he dug them into his palm. His lungs hurt, his legs hurt, everything was sore. He could almost feel lactic acid running over every single one of his cells.
He can’t stop though. He has morning practice, then afternoon practice, and then his own personal evening practice. He couldn’t take a break. Because if he did, if he relaxed, then it all would've been for nothing.
Chigiri, personally, was unimpressed. Running his fingers through his long hair as he put it behind his shoulder.
“You shouldn’t go to practice. You’ll get sick.” The red head seemed to see through him, he was looking into Reo’s own personal being. He barely finished his sentence before Reo retaliated.
“And!?” The lavender’s voice cracked- both from dehydration and yelling, his back slouched but he was looking directly at his shorter teammate. “It doesn’t even matter, I have to… I can’t slack” His voice was raw, he sounded like he was about to break down.
“If you pass out, you’re even more screwed.” Chigiri’s own voice raised, stepping closer to Reo. “Heck, you’ll get injured o-or heck, Chris’ll take you off the starting lineup” He gestured as if it was the simplest thing ever.
“Oh please!” Reo rolled his eyes, ignoring how it made his head throb more, “Like you have shit to complain about. You were born talented, speedy and smart, you’ve never had to actually push yourself to get here.”
Chigiri felt his own jaw clench, as if the billionaire could complain about struggles. Reo stepped forward, pushing past Chigiri. He was stopped by the princess grabbing his wrist and stopping him from going too far.
“Let go.” Reo’s voice quieted, trying to keep himself steady.
“Nah,” He didn’t struggle, he just stood there. Letting Chigiri hold his wrist. “If you’re planning on ramming yourself in the ground, then you might as well pass out where I could help you.” There was a bit too much snark to his words, but he meant it.
“What…” Reo mumbled more to himself than Chigiri.
What?
He felt Chigiri adjust his grip, his mind going a thousand a second. “I’m not… I…” He couldn’t form a sentence, just pathetic stammers.
“Now, while I still have you conscious. Could you please just tell me, why are you doing this? For the love of- you’re practically killing yourself.”
“I’m not!”
“You’re literally shaking like you’re about to fall.” Reo hated how he was right, he was barely holding himself up, Chigiri’s loose grip was almost a lifeline. “You’re just so damn stubborn! You don’t have anything to prove.”
Another moment of silence, an awkward beat. Against all logic and reason, Reo pulled away harder than he had too. Stumbling a few small steps down the hall.
“See?” Chigiri said, voice edged with irritation, but there was something else beneath it. Concern perhaps, or maybe judgement. “You can’t even stand on your own.”
Reo clenched his jaw, refusing to meet his gaze. “I can.”
Chigiri scoffed. “Can what? You don’t need to prove anything. And you can’t even do anything if you don’t take care of yourself.”
“I’m not like you. Y-you naturally gifted people.” Reo’s own voice clawed at his throat, he turned to face Chigiri again, even if it was hard to admit. Even if it sounded pathetic. He could almost feel Chigiri’s frown.
“I’m not some naturally talented fuck, I’m not a genius, and I’m not talented. Okay? I need to work harder, and if I don’t I’ll fall behind a-and” he choked down a sob, “If I want to win the World Cup, I need to work harder. If i don’t Nagi’ll leave me again, and I’ll be nothing. Just some rich guy's son. And I don’t. want. That.” He emphasized the words. This was different from the second selection. Chigiri seeing him cry was one thing, pouring his soul out was another.
Chigiri’s eyes widened slightly, but his expression quickly hardened. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”
Reo bristled. “Shut up.”
“No,” Chigiri shot back, stepping closer. “You think I had it easy? That I just woke up one day and was fast?” He exhaled sharply, glaring at him. “I tore my ACL, Reo. I had to fight like hell to get back here. And you think I don’t push myself every day to make sure I don’t lose what I’ve got?” Reo faltered and Chigiri shook his head.
“We all work for this. You’re not special for struggling.”
He felt that strike a nerve deep inside him, in a place he didn’t want to confront or even know existed. Reo felt his chest tighten, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.
Because—wasn’t that what he wanted? To be special? To prove he wasn’t just some rich kid playing pretend? But instead, he was just like everyone else.
Chigiri sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Look. You want to get better? Fine. But if you keep this up, you’re gonna collapse in the middle of a match, and then what?”
Reo swallowed hard, blinking back tears. “I won’t, you j-just need to mind your own business and career. Don’t blame me when you fall behind” He wasn’t even made a Chigiri, he just felt like Chigiri had gotten too close to the most vulnerable parts of him.
“Y’know, for someone who claims he struggles too, you sure as hell act-” he felt his vision falter again, his knee’s shaking.
Chigiri was already rushing closer towards him as Reo fell, and he fell hard. His eyes gently closed as his body begged for an ounce of rest.
The red haired one was saying something he couldn’t quite hear, he just wanted to rest a little.