Work Text:
The Great Lake was not one of Nagi’s favourite napping spots.
Since it was located so far from the castle and was exposed to elements such as wind or rain, Nagi didn’t visit often—unless he was looking to hide from the scrutinising gaze of others while sleeping. Today was one of those days; the sun radiated delicate rays of warmth, the breeze swirled the subtle scent of petrichor, and Nagi was looking for a sanctuary where he wouldn’t wake up to someone jinxing him stuck to his seat.
People are such a hassle.
The cliff south of the main campus was an isolated area, sparsely decorated with green ginkgo trees that gently rustled in the summer air, providing a shaded, grassy area where Nagi could drift off, lulled by melodic birdsong. Anticipating his life-changing nap, a wave of serenity washed over Nagi as he wandered through the uncut meadow, finally reaching the edge of the land that overlooked the lake—only to feel his heart plummet.
A boy around his age, with dull blue hair, sat there despondently. His legs dangled off the ledge, and his right hand held a white-knuckle grip on his broom as tremors shook through his perfectly postured shoulders.
Nagi sighs. He’s not the best at comforting someone. He doesn’t even like talking to people. But unfortunately for him, the person seemed to have heard his sound of exasperation and stilled, turning around with wide, muted navy eyes. The person’s asymmetrical bangs are dishevelled, his cat-like eyes unblinking as they swell with tears, biting his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to hold in his desperation.
He’s kinda cute. Nagi thinks unhelpfully.
Instantly snapping out of his delusions, he mindlessly asks, “What’s your name?”
Wait, no, I should be consoling him… After a moment of hesitation, Nagi slowly corrects himself, “I mean… What’s wrong?”
The boy rasps, wetly laughing. “I’m Mikage Reo.” Swallowing, he runs his fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to smooth it over and calm down. “Nothing, really,” he hiccups.
Does he think I’m stupid? Even I can tell something’s bothering him.
“Don’t lie. You’re crying.”
Shifting awkwardly under the blunt words, Reo stutters, “I-It’s stupid—I shouldn’t even be crying in the first place.”
Nagi doesn’t understand why Reo doesn’t want to talk about his worries. He also doesn’t understand why the tips of Reo’s once entirely dark blue hair are now a light pink, similar to the faint dusting of blush on his cheeks, reminding Nagi of the roses in his garden at home.
What the hell, that was so cringe…
Trying to make up for the train of thought his mind just conjured, Nagi’s mind rushes to form a cohesive sentence applicable to the problem at hand.
“I don’t mind, it’s nice listening to you talk.”
Grimacing, Nagi almost wishes for someone to ‘Confringo’ him off the cliff. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to suffer through embarrassing himself in front of a cute boy. Then, he also realises that he’s still standing, rudely towering over Reo. Immediately, he sits down, mimicking the other as his legs hang loosely off the edge.
Silently watching the languid movements of the Giant Squid’s curling tentacles beneath the water, Nagi relaxes.
It’s whatever, I’ll probably never see him again; he probably won’t remember how weird I was.
Reo giggles beside him, releasing his broom and letting it roll away, stopping as it touches Nagi’s leg. Only then does Nagi realise they’re sitting so close that their shoulders are brushing. Meeting the eyes of the other, he also finds that the deep ocean hue has faded into a cotton-candy pink.
“If you insist, then! I just—I’m always changing appearances because I’m a metamorphmagus and stuff—it makes people happy when I change my hair or eyes or teeth or… whatever! And it makes me happy too, I think? Because it makes me unique or something—but now, now I feel like I’ve lost myself… Like, when did I stop doing what I like and start living for other people? You know?”
Nagi doesn’t know many things; he doesn’t even know what a metamorphmagus is. (He’s assuming it’s a shape shifter or something, considering what he’s witnessed and heard.) Helping a struggling person is a far cry from what he’s used to doing, but looking at Reo resting on his shoulder, silky strawberry hair tickling Nagi’s neck—wait, when did that happen?
Never mind. Nagi needs to make up something to distract him. Reo’s already calmed down a lot, though, so it should be easy.
“Well, what’s your favourite colour?”
The reply is automatic, “I’m not sure… What’s yours?” Reo innocently asks.
Nagi stares. Reo really is a people pleaser, huh.
“I don’t have one. Plus, I’m asking this for you. Your opinion shouldn’t depend on what I say.”
Reo looks up at Nagi as if he’s been wishing to meet him all his life, eyes rounded in admiration. Making a noise of understanding, he lifts his head off Nagi’s shoulder, falling onto the soft grass with a thud.
“The last time someone asked me that question must’ve been when I was five,” he laughs, following with, “I think when I was a kid, it was purple, like the cover of my potions book.” Tilting his head, Reo quietly questions, “Why?”
Nagi tries to form a reassuring smile as he blankly answers, “From now on, stop changing yourself for others. Turn your hair purple and keep it that way. Continue to stand out, and stop doing what everyone else wants you to do—you don’t even need to listen to what I’m saying, actually,” Nagi registers belatedly. What is Reo doing to him…
Beside him, Reo stands up, dusting himself off. Still on the floor, Nagi cranes his neck as he watches the colour of Reo’s hair and iris gradually bloom into a shade of lilac.
Sniffling, Reo lends a hand. “Thanks, I needed that… What’s your name?”
“Nagi Seishiro,” he says, voice just above a whisper, placing his palm in Reo’s as if it gave him life.
Reo grins, lifting Nagi. “Alright then, Nagi! How would you want to go fly a little bit?” He says, calling over his broomstick. Wordlessly, he nods, agreeable to anything Reo says.
Nagi thinks he’s finally discovered his favourite colour.