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Ego’s voice drips around him—jagged, distant, and meaningless. A cruel sermon echoing through fog.
To Seishiro, they are not words.
Just noise. Just thunder after the lightning has already struck.
His eyes don’t leave the boy beside him—folded over, fragile in his silence.
The number 24 burns above Seishiro’s head. Not a rank, not even a punishment.
It hovers over him like a death sentence, a guillotine awaiting his neck as prize.
But to him, he—
“Hey, Reo…”
He blinks, and suddenly the field fades.
He is seventeen again. A hallway humming with the hush of late afternoon. A boy with white hair and eyes half-shut, moving through life like a ghost in grayscale. And there, stepping into the frame like sunlight slipping through a window—
An indiscriminate star, gravity so strong and joy so magnetic, pulling even a helpless comet like him into his orbit.
A boy destined for greatness.
Seishiro thinks of his life painted in dull greys and blacks, the life of a tragic painter, one loathing his own craft. To him, Reo is…
Reo is who pulled Seishiro out of his monotony, who showed him a world he didn’t know existed. Reo has always been vocal about wanting the world, but for Seishiro, his dream has always been to be the one standing by his side.
“I don’t feel….any regret. Just like Ego said.”
Reo was born to be a king, and Seishiro just wanted a place to lie down and stay still.
Reo built him a kingdom of fire and gold, and Seishiro drifted through it like a ghost, warmed only by Reo’s smile—nothing short of sunlight.
“I think I was…satisfied.”
Seishiro’s life only moved after he met Reo. His inexplicable force, his grace, jolting Seishiro’s still life into motion.
Soccer with Reo. School with Reo. Riding behind Reo on his bicycle.
Laying in Reo’s shadow, Seishiro would’ve been content sleeping in that cool shade forever.
“I beat Isagi and I just wanted to keep playing soccer with you forever. Honestly…”
Seishiro thinks back on Reo. The thrum of his heart, lightening the sparkle in Reo’s eyes, the curl of his pretty lips, knowing he caused it.
It was a burden too big for someone like him to carry.
But if he had to say what he felt, then—
“...that alone would’ve made me happy.”
Ego’s first words echo back to him.
Stay with me until the end .
An ego too fragile, too naive, too innocent , for a wretched place like Blue Lock, which chewed apart whatever fragility it could find, tore into it like shredding into meat, gnawing at his flesh.
Reo dreamed far and high. But Seishrio’s ego, Seishiro’s dream?
“A dream like that wasn’t enough. To survive in Blue lock, my dream was too small and childish.”
Seishrio drifts back to a different moment on the pitch, a different evening, a different breath, where like a helpless kid, he had outstretched himself to Reo, not aware or perhaps not caring if he spread himself too thin.
To beat Isagi, to win, to satisfy that curious itch with Reo, Reo, always Reo.
“If I hadn’t relied on you back then… When I was annoyed I couldn’t beat Isagi”, if perhaps I had straightened my spine, if i had stopped my eyes and mind from wandering to you in every instant, “ Would there have been a different future than the one I have now?
It is not a reality this Seishiro gets tof experience.
Seishiro thinks of his present, of returning back to that monochrome, of spending his day in that quiet staircase, playing mindless games, the soft sunlight hitting his skin, but not touching him, never touching him, not anymore.
The weight of reality sinks into him, settling deep into his bones, purposefully digging through his crevices to jam into skin. In that weigh, something in Seishiro breaks.
“Sorry, Reo.”
Reo’s face infront of him, an expression of ruin, tears dripping down his face.
Reo, Reo, his bright boy , his lighthouse, shedding tears over something that didn’t deserve it. Seishiro wanted to wipe that expression of his face, wanted to cradle his face in hands and kiss the tears away.
Seishiro remembers Reo’s gleeful look, his hopeful eyes as he dragged Seishiro around, his dream of becoming the best in the word with Seishiro. He hated being the one to shatter it.
“ More than my desire to become the best in the world…In the end, what scared me more... was the thought of not being able to be with you anymore.”
Seishiro couldn’t cause Reo grief. Whatever he did, whatever mistake he made, Seishiro wanted to take it back, Seishrio wanted–
Seishiro watches the tears spill from Reo’s eyes. Small droplets, gathering like bubbles on the verge of bursting.
He looks away. His hand rubs his neck.
“You were able to become strong…” Reo is, so so strong, so dazzling, finding new ways to evolve, no matter the obstacles, even through the cruelty Seishiro himself threw on him.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t find a new dream…” How could I, when you were all I ever desired, all I could ever dream of?
“I’m sorry for passing the ball.” Seishiro falls with the tiniest regret, like snow not realising it’s melting.
Because the truth is here–Reo, the wonderful magician, had dug up Seishiro’s heart, blown away the dust, pounded it into something functionable and then looked away.
It was so obvious, so true now. Even someone like Seishiro could…
“I’m sorry I couldn’t take the ball.” I love you, Reo.
“I’m sorry.” I love you.
Isn’t it ironic? A dead heart like Seishiro’s managing to beat—for just one person.
But even in the face of his love, Reo cries harder. He cries, he feels so beautifully like Seishiro never could, a reminder of their disparities, and Seishiro briefly feels helpless , his devotion does nothing good, his ire just makes his god despair.
What good was he?
Nothing but a genius of ruin.
Reo still looks beautiful to Seishiro.
A hand on his shoulder stills Seishiro’s crumbling world.
Reo still looks at him that way, with that look in his eyes, that Seishiro still means something , that even in this broken state, Reo would put him on his bedside table, would still grace him with his presence every night before he sleeps.
“That’s enough”, Reo’s voice is wobbly, his grip bruising, not ready to give up. His expression is so, so open that if Seishiro was a weaker man, he’d look away.
“Don’t apologise…” Reo’s voice breaks. Nagi, you were the miracle i discovered.
“You…” To me, who never desired something, Nagi you were the first.
“You didn’t do anything wrong…” Reo’s expression crumbles, his breath hitching, his face wet.
You were the first thing I truly wanted for my own. You were a star I tried to light ablaze, and maybe that was my biggest sin, for I tried to run you into ashes.
Late night practices, long rides in his car, cycling with Nagi at his back, Reo has always been dragging Nagi along to his whimsy, hasn’t he?
But even in his ambition, even in his high hopes, even in his childish joy on discovering something so valuable, a treasure too big for his flimsy hands, somewhere along the way, the truth is—
Even the pragmatic Mikage heart can.
“Even though you never truly loved soccer… you were just going along with my dream.” Nagi, you’ve always been kind.
“Sorry for pushing you.” Nagi, isn’t it pathetic? I…
“Sorry for making you try so hard.” Even after cradling you with both my hands and watching you break away.
“ You don’t have to try anymore…” I love you, my treasure.
“Don’t apologise…it’s okay.” I love you.
“Reo.” Nagi’s voice is is steady, anchoring him through Reo’s wrecked sobs.
Seishiro’s hand grips Reo’s, fingers encircling his wrist, enveloping Reo, feeling the erratic, living , thrum of his pulse.
His heart might have fragmented now, but the truth remains. And after all they’ve been through, be it at Hakuho’s soccer fields or inside Blue Lock’s walls, after the cruel words Seishiro rained on Reo through his evolution…he can’t watch Reo blame himself ever again.
“I was happy.”
Reo always dragged Seishiro into bothersome things, made him work, made him try tooth and nail for a dream that was never his and turned on him when Seishiro stepped out to do the same.
And yet, Seishiro doesn’t feel bitter. Not at all.
“You’re pushy, selfish, and kind of a coward. But when I’m with you…”
Annoyance. Tired, Ache, Interest, Curiosity, Warmth, Frustration, Anger. Regret. Joy.
“I’ve discovered so many new sides of myself.” Seishiro cradles Reo’s wrist in his hand like it is something precious.
“I got fired up. I also discovered the uncool and frustrated sides of myself. There are so many cruel things I said to you. And I learned that winning feels seriously amazing. And also…”
I learned to love.
Seishiro felt the need to look back, the need to maintain, the need to hold.
Reo was his lighthouse, and Seishiro the wary boat the sea swallowed away.
The warmth of Reo, his fire, his skin, to return back to his cold, pale days, to walk into an unlived apartment, that is Seishiro’s greatest torment.
Because without Reo, Seishiro would not just be alone. Reo has selfishly stolen the privilege of solitude from him.
Without Reo, Seishiro would be lonely.
And isn’t that the greatest tragedy of it all?
But for now, for now, Seishiro wants to try. Seishiro wants to shove out his grimy heart and bring it to Reo’s face and make him watch the stream of blood trickling sloppily and scream for once in his life, see, Reo, see. This is what I feel.
So Seishiro talks.
“ The thought of you disappearing…started to feel lonely. Reo, to someone like me who always found everything bothersome…”
Because this is what it is. For someone like Seishiro, Reo is light.
“You gave me light. Everything since I met you…”
Reo’s expression is stunned. How did Reo manage to cast a shadow so long that Seishiro’s fire could never flick to him?
Seishri holds Reo firmer.
Because if Seishiro is a wind chime, Reo is the breeze that gave him life. Because Reo crowned him in gold, adorned him with diamonds and pampered him with affection blind to the fact that what Seishiro truly cared for—what he dreamt for wasn’t the lumps of metal around his neck.
It’s always been Reo. Every smile, every laughter, every hand running through his hair.
“It’s the greatest treasure of my life.”
But.
Slowly, like waves retreating back into the sea, grazing the wet sand, Seishiro drops Reo’s hand.
They were doomed from the start, weren’t they?
Too halves of a wish, a boy who saw more than what existed and another who tried to live up to what didn’t.
Like fire and a blanket–either to burn or be smothered.
For a relationship built on a false transaction, maybe all they’’ve really done is hold each other back—maybe all Seishiro’s done is hold Reo back from his destined seat.
Pulled him from a throne of greatness to lie by his side.
“But…I wasn’t a genius.”
Seishiro was nothing but a boy, a tide put into motion only because Reo believed he could.
For a relation built on a lie, they were bound to go crashing.
Seishiro feels his will wither, shriveling as he thinks of what’s next.
What if that fateful day, Seishiro had not chosen that exact staircase to sit on? Seishiro would’ve lived a lonely life but maybe, maybe then he wouldn’t have dulled Reo.
“Maybe.. it was better if we had just passed each other by.” I’m sorry, Reo.
“You could’ve become even stronger.” I’m sorry I showed you false hope.
“Maybe..the world we dreamed was just beyond this point.” You never needed me to fulfill your dream.
“Our dream of being the best in the world...” I’m sorry, I love you.
“This is where it ends…” And I’m sorry it wasn’t enough.
Seishiro takes a breath and studies the face of the boy he loves, crying for him, mangled words, broken voice. Seishiro can’t hear what Reo doesn’t say.
Because if you were guilty for being a painter bored of his own canvas, Nagi, then I’m….
Seishiro brings one hand to Reo’s head, his beautiful mind, that never ceaser to amaze Reo.
A flicker runs through him as he declares what he should have always said.
“Goodbye, Reo.” This might be the end of us but for us. But for you,I always…
“You, on you own. Become the best in the world.”
Seishiro’s feet drag forward, the friction of the field a heave chain against him. The Loser’s gate is looming above him as others like him cross the threshold, stepping out of a dream.
Reo cried harder, a wreck as he feels his heart twist and turn and stab. If you’re guilty, Nagi, then I must be damned.
Seishiro hears a mumble from behind, a garbled shout of “Don’t quit soccer”, from the number one, but his eyes are only fixed on Reo. He hates to be the reason for Reo to cry, but he can’t do anything about it.
A small fire lights from the bottom of his heart, crackling in his hollow chest. Maybe….
Maybe I can meet him again,
When I become worthy of him.
Nagi turns his face ahead. He straightens his back, enounciating his tall frame, throwing away his signature slouch.
The doors don’t seem so looming anymore, under the full-figure force of Seishiro Nagi.
When Nagi faces the gate again, its with a quiet assurance. Because Reo is a lighthouse that will keep glowing even if the ships sail away.
The memory of Reo is fresh in his mind, locked into his heart and soul.
Like a constellation without its stars, Seishiro thinks, I will remember the shape of us, even when the light is gone.
Until the moment I can bask in it again and forever.
Nagi steps forward.
****
Because if you’re guilty, Nagi, then I must be damned. For I was a sculptor who fell in love with his own masterpiece.