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Nagi is lying in his bed, clutching a pillow to his chest and trying to will his body to sleep– keyword trying. It was the middle of the day, but he needed to do something to pass the time, and even gaming past his dailies seemed too much of a hassle now. Sleeping was nice. It came easily…usually. Not recently, though.
(Back in Team White, Barou probably would've yanked the wrinkled sheets off of him and called him a—)
Nagi cuts off his own thoughts when he feels a growing pang in his chest, which he has recently learned means he's going to cry, and changes positions for the umpteenth time, opting this time to face Choki. There's no point in thinking about Blue Lock anymore. It's not like he can go back in time. He buries his face deeper into the soft fabric of the pillow, letting his eyes flutter shut as he steadies his breathing back to normal.
The room falls into an unbearably loud silence until Nagi hears knocks at the door. They start off quiet at first, almost seeming hesitant. Maybe it's the press again. Practically all of them had lost interest after his lackluster responses (turns out 3 or 4 word sentences weren't in fact headline potential). Maybe this one was just desperate. Fine, Nagi can wait it out. He's done less to avoid an unwanted interaction.
…At least, that's what he decided until they continued in frequency. Nagi internally weighs his options: he can either stay in his warm bed and get some sleep (he likely won't.) or have to talk to a very persistent reporter who will probably keep prodding him for information until they find something salvageable. At least he could have some quiet afterwards.
He slides out of bed, cringing at the sensation of the cold floor, before dragging his feet to the door. He regrets getting up already. Nagi inhales as he grasps the doorknob, steeling himself for what will likely be a very painful conversation to get through, before he opens it and that breath catches in his throat.
Reo looks roughly the same. Nagi's not sure what he expected. It hasn't been that long since the two of them separated. It hasn't even been that long since they first met.
(So why does it feel like he could've known Reo for his entire life?)
He sees Reo's eyes widen as they scan Nagi's appearance, his hand still slightly raised in a knocking position. Reo's body was turned, almost like he was about to give up and leave if Nagi hadn't opened the door just now.
Reo looks tired. He's not in tears like how Nagi last saw him (Nagi feels burning guilt pooling in his gut knowing he played a part in making Reo break down on live TV of all places and humiliating him–), but the bags under his eyes seem more defined now. His usual cheeky grin has been replaced by a thin line on his face. There are some stray hairs out of place. Nagi wants to brush them away.
Nagi awkwardly raises his hand to do so, but decides against it, allowing it to rest back at his sides. He's… not Reo's genius anymore. He let him down and broke their promise. Even a small gesture like that feels sacrilegious now.
Reo's eyes follow the movement, before darting back to Nagi's face. Reo's mouth opens and closes shut as he stares, a rare instance of him not knowing the exact thing to say.
Despite the designer clothes on him, this isn't the perfect prince of Hakuho High that dozens of girls gush over on the daily, or the heir to the Mikage Corporation with billions of yen in net worth… this is just Reo in all his human vulnerability.
Their impromptu staring contest is broken when Reo lets out a forced huff of a laugh, the noise sounding somewhat hollow, as he shakes his head and steps inside Nagi's apartment.
“I knew you were actually here, you lazy sloth.”
Nagi can only hum weakly in response, hand instinctively reaching for his own neck as he steps to the side to allow Reo in. He's as pushy as always. Not that Nagi could find it in him to refuse Reo right now. Not now, not ever.
Reo's visited before once, but him being in his room right now feels…surreal. Nagi does like having Reo here, he likes having Reo around period, but it feels out of place. Especially now. Reo belongs somewhere in the spotlight, around adoring friends and fans–not in the confines of Nagi's room.
“Hah, after having to live in Blue Lock for months, your dorm doesn't seem like a spaceship anymore.” Reo opens up the curtains, letting the sunlight in.
Nagi sits back on the bed after locking the door, squinting his eyes and adjusting to the new light illuminating the previously dark room. His eyes follow Reo as takes a look around the space. Nagi isn't sure why Reo's doing this; it's the exact same as the last time he was here.
“...Reo's room is just unsuited for human life.” Nagi finds himself retorting with a pout, his voice somewhat hoarse from unuse. It's the first time he's talked to another person in days. If Reo notices, he doesn't comment on it.
There's no reason for Reo to be here, really. It's not like Nagi can provide any more use to Reo's dream. Not that he needs it. Nagi's completely confident that Reo could win the World Cup on his own.
…The thought of not being by his side if– when he does so still makes Nagi's chest constrict painfully, though.
First, Nagi needs to ask why Reo's deciding to waste his precious break time on someone like him. He knows Ego doesn't give it sparingly. There are plenty of better things that Reo could be doing right now. He just has to phrase the question delicately.
He's hurt Reo enough times.
As Nagi opens his mouth to speak– maybe it'll hurt less if Reo's facing away from him– Reo places a plastic convenience store bag on the counter that Nagi just registered he was holding (He admittedly was too busy looking at Reo himself). He can't imagine Reo being in one of those tiny corner stores…he wonders how the cashier must've felt, seeing–
Nagi's ripped out of that train of thought by Reo tossing something from the bag at him. He tears his gaze away from Reo and turns the item around, seeing the familiar packaging of a cream bun. Of course Reo still remembered his bread schedule.
He rips the top of the packaging open– the sight of the pastry reminds him that he has not eaten at all today, not that he should tell Reo that– and takes a bite of the fluffy bread while Reo speaks.
“...How have things been?” Reo's voice is laced with what sounds like insecurity.
It's an open-ended question, almost too open-ended given the nature of their relationship, yet Nagi can't find a single concrete answer to say. Everything's the same as before he met Reo and began playing football, but it feels completely different.
(Someone took Reo's seat next to me.
Scores for a test came out recently. My name was in the number one slot instead of Reo's. I didn't like that.)
Something in Nagi's mind registers the familiar sound of a cork popping. Reo probably brought a bottle of nonalcoholic champagne too– Nagi reaches for his neck again.
(I started riding a bike to school like we used to. Even though it's more of a hassle than walking. Just to feel closer to Reo.
It feels lonely without Reo around. So lonely it hurts, Reo, please stay with me—)
“...They still talk about you,” Nagi settles on, still looking at his bun rather than meeting Reo's gaze as he elaborates. “The girls… And the football team, I guess. They miss their captain.” It's not a lie, technically.
He hears Reo bark out a laugh at that. The sound makes Nagi feel warm inside.
“I'm asking about you, Nagi.”
Nagi finally looks up at Reo (who seems mildly amused at his answer) and sees two glasses of champagne on the counter next to him like he thought. It reminds him of limousine rides and late night chats when their biggest problem was getting to nationals. He takes the last bites of his bun and balls the plastic wrapper up.
“...But speaking of the school football team,” seeing Nagi isn't going to respond, Reo continues, voice softer than usual. “...Are you gonna play this year? With your skills, there's no way they'd complain if you were the captain, even with your social skills.”
Nagi feels himself tense. It isn't surprising that Reo would bring up football– the core of their partnership had been based on it, not to mention it was apparent to both of them that Nagi had enjoyed the sport within Blue Lock's walls despite his earlier reluctance. That was part of the reason why distancing himself from it made him so miserable.
“I…”
(“...I'm done.”)
In all honesty, he hadn't considered continuing to play for their school's team, let alone touching football again at all– it brought back too many bittersweet memories. It feels like an open wound. A live wire waiting to burn him if he gets too close. Even his offer from back in the Neo Egoist League sits unread in his email, collecting metaphorical dust.
Not that it would feel the same playing without Reo anyway, now that he no longer has a goal to work forward to. He…can't go back. That's not an option anymore.
(“I'm done with football.”)
Nagi closes his eyes and fiddles with the wrapper in his hands. He opens his mouth to break the same news to Reo that all of his other classmates have heard by now, tongue feeling like lead under Reo's expectant gaze.
(“I'm done with—”)
‘Nagi, if I catch it without dropping it…you'll never say “I'm quitting football” ever again, got it?!’
(...Why am I remembering that now? What a hassle.)
Those days feel so far away now.
“I don't think I'd make a good captain,” Nagi finds himself blurting instead, rationality clouded by memories of candied apples and metallic colored good luck cleats. He opens his eyes to look at Reo, who is sipping his glass. “And Reo is irreplaceable anyway.”
Reo sputters on his drink and turns his face away, muttering something about how Nagi is “always like this...” before handing Nagi his glass and laying down next to him, legs dangling off the bed.
The clouds outside occasionally dapple the sunlight coming in from the window. Their conversation, now primarily consisting of ‘remember when's, falls into a familiar rhythm– Reo mainly doing the speaking while Nagi responds with short sentences or gentle hums.
Talking with Reo is easy. It's gentle. It's too forgiving.
Nagi takes every detail of Reo in: how he looks like this, the light flush on his cheeks from Nagi's earlier comment, the rise and fall of his chest, how the now golden light frames his face…Reo, Reo, Reo–
“You're staring,” Reo comments, uncharacteristically meek.
Nagi takes that as a sign to look away and busies himself with swirling the glass in his hand, watching the fizzy liquid slosh around the edges.
“...Reo isn't going to celebrate with the others?” Nagi knows that the players at Blue Lock have probably planned a hangout, like after they won the U-20 match. He doesn't want to be the one holding Reo back from having fun. He's acutely aware of how much of a social butterfly Reo is after the months they spent together at Hakuho.
Reo makes a questioning hum before seeming to get what Nagi means. “Later, later! I'm on break for more than one day, y'know-?” Nagi can see his hand waving it off in his peripheral vision. “Besides, they're all probably with family right now anyway.”
Were they just released then? Was Nagi the first person that Reo went to visit? Somehow the thought simultaneously fills Nagi with flutters and aches in his chest. Either way, it feels like his rib cage is going to overflow with something.
Reo could've visited Ba-ya then, or your parents. You've proved that you can make it onto the world stage–” Nagi places his almost empty glass onto his window ledge.
“Nah, there's no point in seeing them! Not until we've fulfilled our dream of being the best in the world.”
Nagi's breath hitches. Did he hear that right?
“Reo…” Nagi faces Reo again, eyes wide, and hazel eyes meet bright violet. The twinkle that Nagi sees feels like secure confirmation.
“Did you really think I would give up my treasure that easily?” Reo sits up. His usually straight hair is all out of sorts from the motion, but he has such a genuine smile on his face– Nagi still doesn't think he's ever seen a more lovely sight than Reo's smile, nor does he think he ever will. “The public loves a hardcore comeback story anyway!”
The old nickname makes Nagi's chest feel lighter. Still, he's made his peace with watching Reo succeed from afar. Actually, not quite, but he's not about to burden Reo with his heartache.
“Reo…can become the best on his own. You don't need me around. I stopped being a genius.” As an afterthought, Nagi adds, “...I'm sorr–”
Nagi's suddenly tugged forward by a strong hand on his shoulder. He impossibly hopes it leaves a mark on his skin forever. Having a permanent reminder of Reo on his skin would be nice. In just a moment, his face is just a breath away from Reo's.
“I like having you around, Nagi. It's fun. I want to play football with you.” There's no trace of dishonesty in Reo's words– only pure conviction. His grip on Nagi's shoulder tightens, almost bordering on painful, yet grounding. “And I'm the type of guy who always gets what he wants.”
Nagi internally wonders if Reo can hear his heart pounding out of his chest. Nagi knows he's a pain to be around, yet Reo treats dealing with him as if it were as simple as breathing.
Maybe Reo really did put a spell on Team V back then, because all obstacles like Nagi being unable to represent Japan or him not being a genius seem small in comparison to Reo's sheer determination right now.
(When did Reo become so dazzling without him noticing?)
“And I don't think you want to give up on our dream either.” The look in Reo's eyes challenges him to protest.
And Nagi can't find it in him to. There's no point in arguing with Reo about this, not when they both want the same thing. He'll take whatever Reo has to give. He inches closer to Reo, brushing their noses together. Reo lets him.
“...Even if there's someone better?”
The air around them feels charged. Electric. The adrenaline rush Nagi gets is almost reminiscent of the one he gets on the field.
Reo scoffs, as if the possibility hadn't even registered in his mind. “I'll show everyone that we're the best.” He moves closer. Reo's breath tingles Nagi's skin, giving him goosebumps.
“Reo's weird.” Nagi's gaze softens.
“I don't wanna hear you saying that out of all people.”
And Reo closes the gap. There's no fireworks and it's not a life changing event like in the cheesy dramas he watches (And Nagi has no idea what the heck he's doing. He's just imitating Reo.)...but it's not a pain to kiss Reo, Nagi decides. And that was a rarity. He makes a mental reminder to apologize to Choki for doing such a blatant display of affection in the cactus’ presence later.
Nagi tries to put a name to all of the emotions Reo is making him feel: relief that Reo wants him like this too, slight annoyance at himself for not initiating this sooner, the satisfaction that comes with just being with Reo himself– before Reo's hand slides from Nagi's shoulder to his back, pulling them somehow even closer, and he forgoes the notion altogether, realizing that there's too many to count.
(I'll get stronger so I can stay by your side. Wait for me, please wait for me–)
The feelings Nagi harbors for Reo seem a lot like love, he realizes. It's different from the love he feels for his parents, or towards his companions in Blue Lock, but Nagi can recognize what it is– even if the realization came slower than it should've. He reaches for Reo's hand, enveloping it with his own and cupping Reo's cheek. Reo smiles against his lips.
He'll keep the dying embers of his ego alive for as long as he needs to if it means staying by his side.
“I love Reo,” Nagi mumbles against him, testing how the words sound from his mouth. It feels right.
Reo makes a choked noise and jolts back like he's been shocked, arm loosening its death grip and now weakly hanging over Nagi's shoulder.
His cheeks are dusted a pretty shade of pink and his lips are slightly swollen, Nagi notes. He wants to see Reo like this more. But Reo stares at Nagi as if he's confessed to a murder– actually, he might have reacted less strongly if Nagi really did. Reo was strange like that.
“I– you… Nagi, give a guy a warning before you say something like that–!” Reo manages to sputter out.
“Reo gets love confessions from girls all the time.”
It's true, Nagi has had to awkwardly sit through his fair share of declarations of love towards Reo, and not once has he acted like this.
“This is different!” Reo seems so uncharacteristically flustered, his cool when turning down classmates now nowhere to be seen.
(…So this is how Reo is when he gets a confession from someone he likes back? Cute.)
“Reo doesn't have to say it back.”
He can wait. Nagi will stay by Reo's side for as long as he's allowed. He'll say it enough for the both of them if he needs to.
Reo opens his mouth to protest before sighing. “What am I gonna do with you?”
In lieu of a response, Nagi wraps his arms around Reo, leaning down and pressing his head into the crook of Reo's neck. The scent of Reo's pricey cologne fills his senses.
“...Congrats on seventh. Reo deserves it.” The praise feels like it's too late. Reo should've had a proper celebration days ago.
Reo's hand cards through Nagi's hair, untangling the strands. Nagi leans into the gesture. “That will be nothing compared to when we win the World Cup.”
Nagi is about to call Reo out on how he never seems to recognize his own brilliance when Reo's free hand fumbles around the bed before grabbing a familiar purple composition notebook.
(That conversation will just have to come later, then.)
He hands the book to Nagi, who reluctantly lets go of Reo to flip through the pages of football notes. Reo's penmanship is unsurprisingly neat, and the highlights add splashes of color. As he progresses further into the book, the notes transition from planning Reo's own plays to incorporating Nagi's. The last pages that have writing in it even have Nagi's data copied from the NEL. He absentmindedly traces his finger across the neat strokes.
“But we'll need to change first. You…can't rely on my plays anymore.”
Nagi's eyes dart back up to Reo when he speaks, who seems to have accepted this fact with begrudged resignation. Reo clenches his fist, his expression shifting to one similar to when he's strategizing.
“I think that if you take the time to learn the logistics, with your abilities– you won't need to be a genius to be the best.”
“Reo…” Nagi rests his hand on top of Reo's, who relaxes his under the soothing gesture.
“While we're apart, make your own plays. If it's you…I know that you can do it.”
Nagi's first thought is that studying the equivalent of several football textbooks and thinking of his own plays around teammates that likely won't match the skill level at Blue Lock will be a pain– he can already tell. But things that are a pain are important, especially if it's for Reo.
“Yes, boss.”
Nagi thinks he would follow Reo to the ends of the earth.
Reo beams, and Nagi's mind unhelpfully supplies for the millionth time (and this won't even be close to the last–) just how dazzling Reo looks in the golden hues of the sunset.
“Then, Nagi…” Reo intertwines their hands, eyes misty like this particular declaration means everything in the world, “Let's meet again… when we've achieved our dream.”
Nagi knows he's being childish believing in their renewed promise– they both are.
‘Trust your irresistible desires.’
…That was essentially the requirement for becoming a world-class egotist, straight from the World Five themselves (or, well, crudely translated, he guesses), wasn't it?
He'll place his faith in reshaping his destiny, then. Both of theirs. If dreams aren't enough to win, he'll make their dream more than enough.
Nagi can feel the faded embers of his ego spark into a flame. It feels different, somehow. Warmer than the cold embrace of death. He's not sure what it quite is yet…but he'll find out.
“Yeah. Let's become the best in the world, Reo.”