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“You have two voicemails.”
Reo smiled tenderly at that. Who even leaves messages on voicemail these days? Only someone as unique as his friend Bachira, that’s for sure.
Reo couldn’t actually remember the last time he’d checked his voicemail. It had probably been ages. He usually kept a close eye on his calls, so he rarely even had missed calls at all. But Bachira had caught him at the gym, and instead of sending him a text like any normal person, he’d chosen to leave a message on his voicemail.
Reo didn’t check it right away; instead, he waited until he got home and was comfortably in bed before listening to the message. Fresh out of the shower and in his clean pajamas, he proceeded to hear what his friend had to say.
“Voicemail from March 31, 2026.”
“Hey, Reopon! Why aren’t you picking up the phone? Don’t you love me anymore?” Reo laughed warmly at Bachira’s dramatic voice. Yesterday he’d told him he’d be going to the gym with Kunigami this afternoon, but Bachira seemed to have already forgotten. It didn’t surprise him, though; his friend tended to be a bit absent-minded about these things. “Anyway… Did you know a new crêperie just opened near your house? In that super fancy neighborhood where you live. I’ve heard they have the best crêpes in town! Can we go? Please? Pretty please? If you say no, I’ll die.”
Reo finished listening to the voicemail with a smile on his lips. Bachira’s exaggerated way of expressing himself had always struck him as very funny, and over the years they’d ended up becoming close friends. He was about to close the voicemail to call Bachira and tell him that of course they could go together, when suddenly his phone started playing another message.
“Voicemail from February 10, 2019.”
Reo’s smile vanished instantly. He remembered that date perfectly, as if it were just yesterday. He’d probably never forget it, not with everything it had meant to him. Not with everything it still means.
It had been seven years since Reo broke up with Nagi. Seven years since the last time he saw the person he believed would be the love of his life.
But sometimes love isn’t enough. Sometimes you have no choice but to realize that the relationship is going nowhere. It’s hard to accept that the person you love the most in the world isn’t good for you, and that you aren’t good for them, but that was the reality Reo had to face. He and Nagi were… well, they were many things. Some of them very good. So good that he had never been happier than when they were together. But many others... just didn’t work.
Nagi and Reo didn’t understand each other. They’d always had miscommunication problems, and despite all their efforts, they could never fix that. Reo wished he could put all the blame on Nagi and say that it was him who never spoke clearly about what he thought or felt. But Reo knew it was his fault, too.
Nagi used to think that Reo knew him so well that it wasn’t necessary to put his thoughts into words. And Reo wanted to believe he always understood Nagi, even without words, but that only led to endless misunderstandings that neither of them took the first step to resolve, until the problem became too big to ignore. Too big to avoid hurting feelings.
Reo had never been as happy as he was with Nagi.
But Reo had never suffered as much as he did with Nagi.
His life was calmer now. What used to be a roller coaster of emotions was now a stroll in the park. Simple, quiet, comfortable. But not exciting. Not like the life he had with Nagi.
And Reo thought he preferred that, he really did. He had grown used to a dull, flavorless life. To a life that didn’t hurt him, but didn’t make him happy either.
And he thought that was what he wanted—no, he thought that was what he needed. That’s what he thought, until he heard his voice again.
He held his breath unconsciously, bracing himself for the blow he knew was coming. He wanted to avoid it, to run away, but he was too frozen to even try.
As soon as the first words filled the air, his eyes were already filling with tears.
“Mmmmmm... Reo? Hey... I guess you don’t want to talk to me. You used to pick up the phone so fast... And now I’m not even getting to hear your voice.”
He felt his throat tighten at the familiarity of that voice. Damn it, it shouldn’t sound so familiar. It had been seven years since he’d last heard it. Why did it still sound like home then?
“Did you really mean it...? That we’re better off apart? Is that what you really think? If that’s the case... I’ll respect it. I really will. I don’t want to be a bother to you, Reo. Never. Not to you.”
Hearing this now, Reo knew that Nagi had kept his word. After this call that Reo didn’t answer, after this voicemail that Reo refused to listen to, Nagi had never tried to contact him. It’s true that Reo had blocked him on every social media platform, but it’s equally true that Nagi could still have found him. He knew how, and he knew where. He hadn’t, though, and a small part of Reo had always selfishly wondered why. He thought that maybe the breakup hadn't meant enough to him to make him fight a little harder for Reo.
Listening to this voicemail, he was finally able to understand why Nagi didn’t.
“But... I don’t agree. I think I’m my best self whenever I’m around you. I’m not even sure I’m any good at all when I’m not close to you. Things only matter when you’re there, really.”
Reo’s tears fell relentlessly, as if after seven years of trying to hold them back, they could finally flow freely. As if he had needed to hear those words, even though he didn’t want to hear them.
Reo knew that Nagi cared about him. He knew it, because despite all their misunderstandings, this was never one of them. Nagi was hard to read most of the times, but it was crystal clear the way he adored Reo. However, sometimes knowing isn’t enough; sometimes you need to be told. Sometimes you need to confirm that you aren’t getting it all wrong, that you aren’t giving your heart to someone who doesn’t know how to use it.
It was a relief to know that Nagi had indeed treated his heart like a treasure. It was seven years too late, but at least the answer finally arrived.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t a good boyfriend. Since it was you, I really tried. I did. But I know it wasn’t enough. I don’t think anyone deserves you, and I know I don’t. But still, I tried. Because you deserved my best.”
“I tried too,” Reo said, his voice broken and miserable in a way it hadn’t been in years. “We both did. It wasn’t your fault, Seishiro. Sometimes it’s just not meant to be.”
We were never meant to be.
“Being with you was the best thing that ever happened to me. I already knew it, but now that it’s over, I’m sure of it. Did you know this is the first time I feel like this? I never thought I would learn what this feeling is. What it is to feel heartbroken.”
Heartbroken? Was that how Nagi had felt when Reo broke up with him? It seemed like a strong word for someone like Nagi—someone whose emotions seemed to affect him like a distant echo, in contrast to the intense storm that were Reo’s emotions.
“Life was easier when I barely felt anything. But life has been much better since I felt so much. And everything I felt, it was for you. So maybe I should thank you for this, too. For this new feeling that’s breaking me from the inside.”
The way Nagi’s voice cracked slightly with his last words provoked the same effect in Reo.
Sei... did you really feel like this?
Why did it matter so much to him even seven years later? Why did hearing Nagi sound so sad make him want to run off and find him, hug him, and tell him that breaking up with him was the hardest thing he’s ever done in his life?
It was a stupid thought, because it had been seven years since Nagi had sent him this voicemail. No matter how he felt back then, because that wasn’t how he felt anymore. And yet...
“I guess it’s your right, anyway. My heart is yours to have, or yours to break. My heart is yours. Do with it what you must.”
Why? Why couldn’t Nagi have said all this sooner? Why did he always have to wait until things fell apart to try to fix them?
If Reo had known all this back then, maybe things would have been different. Maybe they could have talked it out, but talking had never solved anything for them. They never spoke clearly. Why did Nagi have to do it only when it was too late?
“Isn’t it kinda funny? That I’m not used to talking much, and now I’m here talking to no one? To myself? To you, even if this might not reach you?”
Reo snorted, because even after all these years, they still seemed to think alike. Both had followed the same train of thought, both thinking about the things they should have said but didn’t.
“But I had to, because I wanted you to know this: I love you. I love you, and this feeling will never change.”
Reo felt his heart break a little more, and he tried to catch his breath as best he could, but it was starting to get difficult.
I love you.
It had been so long since he’d last heard Nagi say those words, that they almost sounded like a foreign language—and that was despite the fact that Reo was fluent in five languages.
Something about those words still made him tremble, even after all these years. But this time it wasn’t a pleasant feeling; it wasn’t pure excitement at hearing his boyfriend say that. It was heartbreaking; it was agonizing. It was a reminder of what they once were and would never be again.
“And I’ll be waiting for you. No matter how long it takes, or if the time never even comes. I’ll be waiting for you because that’s the only thing that ever mattered. You.”
Reo no longer knew what felt tighter—his throat or his heart. Maybe his eyes, with the way he was squeezing them shut so no more tears would fall, to escape words that reached him anyway.
“So if you ever want to talk, please, call me back.” Reo reached for his phone, his hand shaking like crazy. He had to put an end to this. He couldn’t keep listening to all those words trying to convince him that there was still something between them. He couldn’t allow himself to hope. “I’ll wait. I promise I will.”
In the end, Reo didn’t need to turn it off, because the voicemail ended right there. His phone was shaking in his hand, his breathing was still ragged and irregular, and Reo could have sworn he was starting to feel dizzy.
Tears blurred his vision, but he managed to open his last chat. The only person who could help him right now.
Reo: Chigiri
Reo: Chigiri
Reo: Help
Chigiri: Reo??
Chigiri: What’s going on? Are you okay?
Reo: No
Reo: It’s him
Chigiri: Him?
Reo: Nagi
Chigiri: Oh.
Chigiri: Okay, hold on a second
Chigiri: I need some coffee; it’s too early for this
It’s almost 6 p.m. Reo would have said just that, but he was feeling so anxious he didn’t even bother.
Reo: Chigiii, please don’t leave me hanging
Reo: I’m hyperventilating
Chigiri: Is this just your usual dramatic self, or are you really hyperventilating?
Reo: I’m serious
Reo: I feel a little dizzy
Chigiri: I’m calling, put me on speaker
Reo was shaking more than before when he answered the call, but his friend’s voice managed to calm him down a bit. Chigiri had always been a safe place for him, especially when it came to Nagi. He’d been the first to congratulate him when they started dating and the first to hug him when they broke up. Reo knew that Chigiri would always be there for him.
“Reo, calm down. You’re okay. Everything’s fine. Please, try to breathe with me, okay?”
Reo didn’t answer, but he tried to follow the rhythm of Chigiri’s breathing. It was a pattern he knew, something they’d done together before. Reo found comfort in it.
They stayed silent for several minutes, just breathing. Finally, Reo began to feel the air filling his lungs, the tension in his chest easing a little. He wasn’t okay, not yet, but he was somewhere in between.
Chigiri must have sensed it in his breathing, because he chose that moment to speak in that soft voice he reserved for situations like this.
“Reo, what happened? Why now, after so long?”
Reo laughed dryly, still trying to figure out how he should feel about the voicemail.
He told Chigiri, because telling him helped Reo to process all this, to feel it was real. To come to terms with that voicemail not being a figment of his imagination. Chigiri listened attentively, never once mentioning how Reo’s voice broke when he repeated certain sentences. He was a good friend, because Reo knew he probably had many thoughts about this, judging Reo’s complicated relationship with his ex, but instead of saying anything about it, he only spoke words of support.
“Thank you for everything, Chigiri,” Reo said, and he meant it. Not just for today, but for always being there. For understanding him even when Reo didn’t understand himself.
“Don’t mention it. It was for old times’ sake.”
Reo laughed this time, a small but honest laugh.
“You’ve always had to help me with my panic attacks, haven’t you?”
Chigiri had always been his confident in these situations. He always lent him a hand and an ear when Reo felt like his world was falling apart because his treasure wasn’t his anymore.
“Yes, but you had gotten so much better lately. I thought you wouldn’t need my help anymore.” They let the weight of those words sink in, the hidden meaning plain for all to see. “You still care for him just as much as always, don’t you?”
“I do,” he replied, because there was no point in lying. Not after what had just happened. Not after hearing that voicemail and realizing his heart was still beating to the rhythm of his voice.
“Are you going to call him?”
That was a question Reo didn’t know how to answer. It would be so easy to say no, to bury that part of himself, of his life, of his past, once again. To shut forever the door that would lead him to where he had been happy.
But was that what he wanted? Half an hour ago, he would have said yes. Right now, the answer wasn’t so clear.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re overthinking a very simple question.”
“There’s nothing simple about any of this.”
“Of course there is. Your problem is that you try to answer with your brain the questions that your heart asks. You’re the smartest person I know, but that’s exactly why you’re so stupid sometimes.”
“Are you saying I should call him?”
“No.” The answer took Reo aback, and made him realize that it wasn’t what he’d been hoping to hear. “I’m saying you should do whatever you feel you have to do. If that means calling him, call him. If that means ignoring his voicemail, then we’ll pretend this whole thing never happened. Whatever you choose, I’ll be with you.”
And if a tear slipped down Reo’s eye, this time he didn’t try to stop it.
Reo wasn’t alone. So it didn’t matter if he made a mistake, if his heart got broken again. It didn’t matter, because his friends would be there to help him put the pieces back together.
And if he had to put his heart, his current stability, his entire happiness, on the line to try to have Nagi by his side for one more second, maybe it wasn’t such a risky gamble. Maybe it was a small price to pay.
Because Nagi would always be the treasure of his life.
And because of that, Reo, after all this time, called back.
Not because he thought Nagi would answer, nor because he thought his feelings would still be the same. Seven years had passed, and if Nagi had moved on with his life, Reo would respect that.
(Even if it broke his heart.)
He tried to think of what to say. He was usually very good with words, but right now he felt like he couldn’t form proper sentences in his mind. And even if he had tried, Nagi left him no time.
Reo wasn’t sure if Nagi would even pick up, but he certainly wasn’t expecting Nagi to answer so quickly. He had nothing prepared to say.
In the end, it didn’t matter, because Nagi spoke first.
“Reo,” he said, in that soft voice of his. There was something else, though. It wasn’t his usual monotone voice; it sounded… it sounded like a prayer. As if Reo’s name were a sacred word he was grateful to say. Reo held his breath, still too shocked to say anything. “You did call back.”
Reo almost laughed, because could it even be considered calling back after so many years? Did it make any sense? But then again, Nagi didn’t usually make much sense. It was part of his charm, really. He was about to say something along those lines, but then Nagi spoke again. And there it was, the sentence that changed everything:
“I was waiting for you.”