Chapter Text
Seishiro always thought that, outside games, Valentine's Day seemed like a huge pain. All the fanfare and the social expectations made being a social outcast not so bad. Just like playing a visual novel, he’d watch unbothered, the blushing faces and sweaty hands, the failed homemade chocolates and depressing rejections.
Until he arrived at his next class of the day and was catapulted into the main character’s role. Because there’s a letter under his desk.
“I should make Reo deal with this.” Not surprisingly, that’s his first thought. After all, nobody batted an eye to his existence before soccer, and what reason he had to even be in that sweaty hell if it wasn’t for the purple sun of a boy that disrupted his quiet life. Yes, he should march up to Reo’s class right now, give him the envelope and demand lemon tea and a day-off as compensation for his troubles.
However… Curiosity does prickle under his skin, because for starters, Valentine’s Day is exactly one week away. The envelope is also not your typical shade of pink sealed with a cute sticker, just creamy white and clearly expensive. Maybe it is not a love letter? Then what? Is he being challenged for a fight?
Fine. Seishiro mentally decides, taking a seat and opening the envelope, revealing the answers to his questions.
For starters, that’s most definitely a love letter. But he also knows that handwriting from studying together and soccer strategies, so all of a sudden, his evaluation shifts completely from “bother” to “interested”.
Dear Nagi,
I'm aware leaving a letter might be a bit cowardly on my part, and I'll fully understand if that makes you judge me. However, there are things I want to tell you that I don't ever find the words (or the guts — I'll admit this much) when we are face to face.
That for sure was surprising. After all, Reo had the guts to kidnap a virtual stranger into his limousine and proposed being together forever on their first date, it was hard to imagine a topic that he would suddenly be too shy to talk about. Cute.
Before anything else, thank you. I know the life I forced on your hands is, as you would describe it, a pain. You probably would rather be playing games or being carefree and yet, you show up to practice. Yet, you score, run and sweat.
Yet, you listen and never leave. I don't think I remember when my dream became ours, but I like it much more when we dream it together.
Seishiro doesn’t remember either, doesn’t know if he ever even dreamed before. He probably didn’t, at least not about something as overly-complicated as winning a World Cup. He was happy, though, satisfied. If after a life of being left behind, of being an afterthought, someone gave you a central role in their life and the only payment was kicking some balls, anyone would be.
Ever since the day we met, I knew you were a treasure, and I wanted to make you mine. I still do.
“I already am.” Nagi said to the tiny imaginary Reo on his shoulder, hoping he would somehow convey the message to the real one. For all his confident attitude, Reo really seems to struggle at believing that someone’s feelings and wishes were mutual. And it wasn’t like Seishiro was trying to hide this fact, either: being with Reo, following his tactics, sitting on the backseat of his bike, it all came naturally, easy as breathing, and so did liking Reo. If the universe truly had specific agendas and goals, Seishiro and Reo loving each other was for sure one of them.
The thing is, I started treasuring so much more than your talent. You’re sweet in your unique way, and really cute.
Here it came, the only downside of using his pathetic puppy eyes to weaken his partner. Sometimes he worried that Reo would see him as a child he took care of or an oversized plushie instead of his future husband. Oh well, he just had to score some sick goals in the next game and remind Reo that Seishiro was the exact type of cool and interesting guy that Reo liked the most.
I like how much you trust me, not because of a surname or money, but because the me that you see is so much more capable than the real one. Remember when I told you I want to achieve things with my own hands? Our partnership feels like the first time that wish genuinely came true.
I like biking together and sharing a melon bread because you were too lazy to eat the whole thing (please do take care of yourself more, though). I like the way you say my name, how I can always tell what you want just by how much you drag out the vowels. I like us, and secretly hope we can be “Nagi and Reo” forever. Though, guess it’s not that much of a secret anymore, huh?
What I’m trying to say, really, is that I like you, Nagi. My partner, my friend… My treasure. Don’t force yourself to reciprocate these feelings just to make me happy (doubt that you would anyway, that’s one of the many things I like about you), but I thought it was only fair to offer you my honesty in return for everything else you do for me.
Hopefully you read it until this part, and if you don't, that’s ok too. I'll work hard to say it to your face as soon as possible.
Sincerely yours,
Reo Mikage.
Two words that became his favorites in the entire universe. Pretty handwriting that comes from an even more beautiful person. Love letters can be useful, after all, Seishiro concludes, to keep a piece of someone special with you. Not that he and Reo would ever be apart for long either way.
When they meet for lunch, Reo is obviously agitated, probably waiting for some sort of rejection, trying to find signs of discomfort where they never existed in the first place. Is there anything Seishiro could say that would ease his pain? Would Reo believe it if he just confessed back? Maybe not right now, not in such a vulnerable position. A quiet “I like you too” could sound unsure, asking about their future children could make Reo think he was being made fun of.
His Reo was hard to deal with sometimes, but if it was him, it was alright.
So instead of blurting out a love confession that could very likely end in a marriage proposal, Seishiro reaches for Reo’s hand, squeezing it lightly, keeping a lifeline connecting them.
“Reo’s handwriting is really neat and pretty.” Seishiro offers, maintaining eye contact.
“You’re such a weird creature, my treasure…” Reo studies him for a moment, and whatever battle had been happening in his head comes to an end, his purple eyes once again shining like jewels. “But thank you.”
That afternoon, the only thing warmer than Reo’s hand is his smile, the one that lives in Seishiro’s dreams about their past and their future. Maybe if Reo knew that, he would feel more at ease. Maybe one day Seishiro would put these thoughts in a letter too.