Work Text:
They won.
Japan won the U-20 World Cup. Nagi heard it between classes. Someone said it like it was normal, like it was something that had always been meant to happen.
He didn’t say anything. He just nodded and left the classroom as the bell rang. The laptop booted up slower than he remembered. By the time the video loaded, the match was already near the end. Isagi scored. Nagi watched the goal twice. Three times. He didn’t cheer. He didn’t feel like crying either. He just stared at the screen blankly, eyes looking through the screen rather than at it.
Nagi left school without saying much. The hallways felt empty, even with classmates around. His backpack weighed more than usual, though it had nothing in it. Outside, the streets were noisy, but he barely noticed. He walked past the usual shops, the usual intersections, each step slow, automatic. Then he saw it --- a poster plastered across the side of a building: Japan: U-20 Champions
The poster was pinned high on the side of a random building, glossy and bright, almost mocking.. Japan’s U-20 team glowed under stadium lights, faces lifted toward the sky, mouths open in triumph. The trophy held high above their heads, untouchable, like it belonged to a world Nagi had never truly stepped into.
He stopped. The world didn’t pause, but he did. For a long moment, he just stared. He didn’t feel proud. He didn’t feel sad. He felt… small. His fingers itched to scroll through his phone, to see the video, to look for Reo in motion again. But he didn’t move. He couldn’t move.
The sun was warm on his neck, but it barely reached him. He felt numb --- Nagi didn’t feel excitement. He didn’t feel joy. He didn’t even feel sad. Just a hollow sort of quiet that pierced into his chest, slow and heavy.
Nagi started walking again, eyes glued to his phone as if it's an anchor. People passed by him --- brushing shoulders, laughing, all in their own little bubbles. Nagi's gaze lifted, looking at the crowd with dulled eyes. He could see them, hear them, but it was like looking through glass --- untouchable, isolated. He was back to the way he was before.. Empty.
Nagi finally reached his apartment. The door clicked shut behind him, the apartment was silent --- the only sound filling it was the muffled voices outside his window. “Hey, Choki,” he muttered, dropping his backpack on the floor and waving to the small cactus on the windowsill --- who of course didn't respond.
His apartment was dark, the curtains drawn, the kind of quiet that swallowed footsteps whole. He kicked off his shoes and slumped against the wall, staring at the faint outlines of furniture. Everything from outside pressed in on Nagi, and yet here, there was only stillness.
He sat on the floor, knees pulled up, hands resting on them. The laptop was on the small table, as if mocking him. Nagi didn’t open it yet. He didn’t need to. He could already see Reo smiling, the roar of the crowd, cameras flashing --- he could feel the weight of everything he hadn’t done.
An hour had passed.
The laptop on the table blinked at him. Slowly, he opened it. The World Cup interviews were on his feed. He clicked on the video --- smiling players, reporters shouting questions, cameras flashing.. Reo, speaking with the same bright energy Nagi had always remembered. Reo, laughing proudly, carrying a dream that Nagi had once shared but never held onto.
And then it hit him, all at once.
Warm tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t wipe them. He didn’t move. He just let himself feel it—the loss, the isolation, the quiet ache bubbling within him. "If only…" He took a deep breath, he could feel his eyes burning --- vision fogging up as his throat tightened. "If only I worked harder," he whispered, voice barely audible. Arms crossed over his face, clenching his teeth as tears continued to spill.
The world hadn't hit 'pause',
But Nagi's had.
Time froze as soon as he walked through those gates..
The moment he got locked off of Blue Lock.