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What, pray tell, are men fashioned for, if not to indulge their beloved wife's whims?
That is a quote no philosopher has ever pondered about, because they were all miserable people who hated their spouses more than they hated themselves.
Tragic, really. If only they had removed the sticks up their asses, then they would have seen the obvious: this is the fundamental law of the universe. Nagi Seishiro knows that well. Nothing can compare to his wife's beaming smile. The smile that can thaw the mightiest glaciers. The smile that can soothe any aching soul. The smile that is so bright and radiant, it rivals the automotive manufacturing industry in its role in accelerating global warming.
What's that? Achieving world peace is more important? Obviously making Reo happy is higher in the priority scale. Duh. Reo, with his wealth, influence, and sheer gravitational charm, is practically a one-man solution to planetary despair. Next time, use your brain before you think blatantly wrong opinions.
So when Reo, with that persuasive lilt in his voice, invites Nagi to enroll in what is essentially a glorified soccer prison, who is Nagi to refuse?
Declining Reo's offer? Hell would freeze over before he'd even think about disappointing his lovely partner. If Reo wanted to explore the depths of purgatory, Nagi would already be packing snacks for the journey. Though, knowing how pure and angelic Reo's soul is, the place would probably blossom into a second paradise and start charging admission as a scenic getaway the moment Reo steps into it.
Obviously, Nagi wouldn't relent to every single one of Reo's pleas immediately. He's a good partner, not a simp. And also because it would deprive him of the cutest sight in the world: Reo's pout. Fluffy kittens be damned, Reo could 1v100 them and still triumph in terms of cute-scaling.
Whenever Nagi refuses Reo's admittedly outlandish requests (like going out on a sunny day), Reo's lips start quivering just slightly. Sure, something inside Nagi's chest also twists whenever he sees Reo's frown, but, well, Reo's never really upset at Nagi. He's just nice like that. And Reo will never, ever, ever (emphasis on ever) be mad at Nagi! Because they know each other so well, he's convinced Reo is aware of the extent of his love! Anyone else would fail miserably at convincing Nagi to do anything he didn’t want to do. But not Reo. Reo's simply built different.
That's why Nagi likes pushing Reo's buttons. Nothing bad will come out of it, after all.
Speaking of buttons, or specifically, of clothing articles… Nagi didn't expect that Blue Lock would outfit Reo in something so… obscene. Don't get him wrong, even if he didn't care about soccer, he's not clueless enough to not know what compression suits are. Back when they were visiting the Ad*das flagship store in Harajuku, Nagi recalls Reo enthusiastically buying him several compression gears. Those same garments have since remained untouched in Nagi’s closet. Compression means compression, sure, but does it have to be so unreasonably tight? Putting them on is a huge hassle that Nagi doesn't really wanna bother with.
Unless Reo's the one putting him in it, of course. If that's the case, Nagi would comply without hesitation. After all, Reo's hands are so gentle when he helps Nagi dress. A softer side of Reo always shows up whenever he takes care of Nagi. The best part of Reo dressing him is the feeling of deft, long fingers, running smoothly across his skin. That, and how close Reo is. So close that Nagi has to physically restrain himself from jumping on Reo that very instant.
…Okay, maybe Nagi enjoys his one-on-one human barbie play with Reo too much. So what?
So what if Nagi just wants the fleeting sensation of Reo's soft touch? They're sworn partners! This is what they're supposed to do! Constantly touching each other in ways non-partners can't! This is absolutely written in bold text on their totally-agreed-on-and-not-one-sided contract.
Back to the point. Realistically speaking, it wouldn't be out of the blue for Blue Lock (badum-tss) to supply them with sports gear- including the previously mentioned compression suits.
But!
How is Nagi supposed to keep his cool when Reo's wearing an outfit that hugs every single one of his physical features? The suit practically has a personal vendetta against modesty! Every line, every contour, every unfairly attractive detail of Reo’s physique is placed on full display. Like this, Nagi is fairly certain he could trace the path of every vein if he stared long enough. Not that he has. Ever. Or frequently.
Not to say that revealing outfits are an inherently evil thing. Reo can wear whatever he pleases. Nagi's not some sort of tyrannical husband archetype who'd never let his wife enjoy his immaculate body. But what is bad is how this child-abusing institution is practically forcing Reo to show off his body… to NPCs.
How is this legal? Shouldn't Ba-Ya bomb this whole place already? This is an infringement to Reo's privacy, goddammit!
Granted, Reo himself seems blissfully unbothered, but that's mostly because Reo's just a sweet, oblivious maiden. He didn't even notice that Nagi was salivating over him the minute he donned the suit. Blue Lock is truly lucky that Nagi is a respectable (?) member of society, or Blue Lock would've had to 'lock off' one of it's most promising players due to a 'dubiously-family-friendly incident'. Although…
Let it be known: Reo’s obliviousness does not extend to everyone else.
Nagi has seen the looks. Believe him, he has seen too much of them. These background characters would have their gazes stay just a second too long, predator eyes checking Reo out from head to toe, dirty minds taking mental screenshots of his violet partner to do God knows what.
And, no. They're not simply sizing up the competition. Nagi's absolutely, 100% sure they're drooling over Reo. Basis and logical reasoning are completely unnecessary here. It's almost impossible for Nagi to resist Reo, and Nagi didn't even know he could feel these reactions before he met the heir. If Reo's presence is enough to awaken Nagi's indifferent ego then his influence on other people would be 10 times worse.
And the mere thought of it is enough to turn Nagi Seishirō the Pacifist into a raging bull.
It's okay when Hakuho students are the ones gushing on Reo because during school hours, Reo's noticeably not wearing something so scandalous it's exposing the curvature of his hips for the world to see. And he's wearing white. Which is objectively his best color and incidentally the color he will be wearing on their wedding day. It's a nigh on impossible feat to turn one's gaze away from Reo when he's in white. While Nagi's not amused by them, he'll let the Hakuho randoms slide. Once upon a time, he stood among them, before Reo eventually graced him with a shoujo-esque destiny-written staircase meet-cute, so he feels a slight sense of camaraderie with them.
The Blue Lockers, though? They're not on thin ice anymore. They've drowned themselves in the freezing waters of Nagi's wrath.
Aside from Zantetsu. He's cool. Nagi's sure he doesn't even know what lust means.
"Lust?" Zantetsu echoed once, tilting his head as he struggled with the crisis of a shirt tag brushing against his chin. The jersey was inside out, upside down, but Nagi didn't really bother helping him out on that front. After a long pause filled with a long, thoughtful hum, his face lit up. "Oh! That thing that made my bike all orange."
Nagi nodded. "That's rust."
So, yeah. Zantetsu lives.
But this other guy? Absolutely not.
This particular offender, with eye-blindingly bright yellow highlights, had the nerve to stare at Reo while he was bent over at a vending machine. This background NPC, who thinks he can get away with his not so subtle glances. This dude, who has the gall to wave at Reo after he's done perving at Nagi's partner! This freak-twink-hybrid who had Reo waving at him back!!!
Oh, sweet, summer child. If only Reo knew this lecherous dwarf was peeping his perfectly sculpted figure.
Worse still, it became a pattern. A recurring criminal act.
This yellow brat would stare at Reo from afar, Reo would notice the eerie energy, he'd turn around, and they'd wave at each other. The cycle repeats, like some cursed ritual.
Open your eyes, Reo! This person is clearly a pervert!
Nagi decided. Enough is enough. He'd wake up early, strut over to the cafeteria while Reo's still sleeping, find the perp, and bring him down once and for all.
"I know that you've been ogling at Reo."
The canteen is nearly deserted during the early mornings. But Nagi has done his research. His target operates on an earlier schedule, slipping away just before Nagi and Reo usually arrive. And right on cue, there he is, mid-chew.
If Reo was here, he'd praise Nagi for a perfect deduction. But Reo is still sleeping soundly on their shared bed, and that is intentional. There are some things a devoted husband must handle alone. Namely, what Nagi assumes will be an hour-long, honor-restoring duel with a citrus colored menace. Reo doesn't need to witness such gratuitous violence even if it's for his name.
Besides, the outcome is obvious.
Nagi, despite possessing approximately zero combat experience, is likely going to win. He is, after all, at least twice the size of this twink. Sure, looming over a guy while he's seated usually provides a slight height advantage, but even accounting for posture correction, this bob-haired kid would probably peak somewhere around Nagi’s elbows.
Instead of rising dramatically, cracking his knuckles, or even attempting a respectable glare, the boy looks up and smiles. "Hi! My name is Meguru Bachira!"
Nagi narrows his eyes. “Cut the cute act, I know what you’re after."
"I like playing soccer every day!"
“Undressing Reo with your eyes like that… Disgusting."
"My favorite animal is the dolphin! 'Cuz they always look so happy!"
"I know what you are…”
"What's going on here?"
An annoyingly grating voice cuts Nagi off. Both heads turn in unison toward an equally short guy with a diseased-looking tumor-sprout growing on his head. Does Ego invite just about anyone into this program? This dude is clearly ill. There's a parasitic mushroom growing on his head.
After a beat, the sprout-guy clears his throat, food tray still between his hands. This isekai MC wannabe has the face of someone has never had to face conflict all his life. Not that Nagi's the type who goes around picking fights, but at the very least he knows how to not look pathetic. Sprout-guy's brows crease in a sorry attempt at being intimidating. "Is this guy bothering you, Bachira?"
Pssh.
Hey ref, can someone get this bozo out of here? Even someone as angry as Nagi wouldn't want to one-hit KO a pitiful low-level mob like him.
Still, credit where credit's due. Nagi has to admit this dude has balls of steel for going up against someone thrice his size. “L-leave Bachira alone,” he starts, voice wavering just slightly, “what's your problem, anyway?"
"He wants to be my friend, Isagi!" Bachira chirps.
Ah…
This Bachira person might just be dumber than Zantetsu. What a remarkable achievement. Nagi didn't even know that was possible. Any further exchange would be fruitless when all that goes on inside Bachira's head is just static noise.
"Right, Chigirin?"
Nagi looks across at him, only now noticing the third presence at the table, as he meets his gaze with a frowning… androgynous boy. The red-head's scowl deepens as he rolls his eyes.
“…Do I look like I want to be dragged into whatever this is?”
A single glance is sufficient enough to deduce that this 'Chigirin' person is the only one in the table with survival instincts. From the way Chigirin acts in comparison to the dumb-tiny-duo, Nagi suspects he's the one with brains between the three of them.
Having spent more than two sentences threatening Bachira to no avail, Nagi tries a more roundabout approach. Convincing the monster's handler. "You," he says, gesturing vaguely at a bemused Chigirin, "keep that bee pet of yours away from Reo."
Chigirin exhales slowly. "I don't even know who this 'Reo' person is." He punctuates the statement by lazily eating his stir-fried vegetables.
“Reo hates lame and boring guys," Nagi continues, despite knowing his words would go in one ear and leave on the other. Honestly, saints across the globe should be documenting this moment. Nagi, in a beautiful display of patience, is choosing diplomacy over destruction. "So save yourselves the effort and stop staring at him."
Isagi, meanwhile, leans closer to Bachira, setting his tray down. "Bachira, any idea who…?"
There's a long pause. One where Bachira curls his index finger in front of his mouth like a chimp. Deep within the vast, echoing chambers of his mind, a single light finally flickers on.
"He's talking about the guy who said he's my mama's fan!" he exclaims. "From that day I told you about, Isagi!"
Nagi's eye twitches.
He remembers that day, alright.
It had been in this very cafeteria, though infinitely more tolerable at the time. Reo’s hand had been gently combing through Nagi’s hair, fingers threading through pale strands with absentminded affection. By all accounts, it should have been a perfect day.
Whispers of praise reached Nagi's ears as Reo spoke about celebrating his fifth goal. A milestone that earned him his smartphone back. Nagi's eyes were closed in a steady line as he leaned his head on Reo's shoulders. The sharp aroma of Salisbury steak lingered in the air around them. It was a celebratory meal, one Reo spent hard-earned goal for.
Nagi never asked for it in the first place, though. Resting his head on Reo's body, feeling Reo's warmth next to his side, listening to Reo's serene voice- it was all more than enough for Nagi.
It should have been a perfect day.
Suddenly, Reo fell into a hush. His fingers paused near Nagi’s ear, stalling mid-motion. When Nagi was just about to ask what happened, Reo started humming.
"That guy," Reo murmured, "he looks like a painter I know."
One of Nagi's eyes peeked open. "Who?"
Nagi’s half-lidded gaze followed the direction of Reo’s fork, still spearing a piece of meat, now repurposed as a pointer. "The one with yellow highlights. He looks like Yū Bachira."
"…Who?"
What is he, an owl?
A soft giggle escaped Reo's mouth. "Yū, not who!" His fingers resumed their gentle path through Nagi’s hair. "Guess you're not cultured enough to know her."
"Meanie," Nagi muttered, his eye drifting shut again, fully prepared to let the conversation dissolve into comfortable silence. Unfortunately for him, Reo lifted Nagi's chin up and began to stand. Nagi's pout continued to travel downward into a full-fledged frown. "Where's Reo going?"
Reo snickers. "Just a second, treasure."
Nagi watched helplessly as Reo walked across the cafeteria. Reo lifted a hand in greeting, face beaming in his signature dazzling smile. There is a certain sparkle to it, a polished ease, like he’s been specifically conceived in a high-end laboratory for maximum charm output. Knowing how evil Reo's papa is, Nagi wouldn't put human experimentation past him. "Hi!" Reo greeted.
The yellow rascal, mouth stuffed with crackers, perked up as he swallowed. His eerily thin and tiny stature gave Nagi goosebumps. "Hello!"
And then, Nagi felt it.
There is an immediate, alarming synergy between them. Like two overly friendly Pomeranians barking at each other across a park, tails wagging with such incredible speed it threatens to take them off the ground.
Reo tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "This might be a weird question to ask, but you look familiar," he said, tapping a finger lightly against his chin. "Are you related to Bachira Yū? The painter of Summer Eve's Monster?"
Nagi, from his corner of silent suffering, squinted. Of course Reo memorized the face of an obscure artist and then connected it to some dude across the room. Of course. Why wouldn’t he? Why wouldn’t that strange fact ingrain itself onto Reo's brain?
Oh gods, if you exist, please, heed Nagi's prayers.
Say no. Say he got the wrong person.
If the conversation died that instant, Reo would return to his rightful place in Nagi's presence. Granted, he'd probably be embarrassed about making an awkward mistake, but Nagi could make Reo feel better. He'd soothe Reo's heart and they'd continue frolicking inside their bubble once more.
So, gods, please. With a cherry on top. This is the only request Nagi has made in his many years of existence. Fulfill this request of his. You divine spirits never ended up giving him that PSP he really wanted when he was ten, anyway.
A gasp escaped Bachira's mouth. Maybe the only gods that existed are the evil ones, because Bachira lit up as if someone flipped the light switch of a Christmas tree. "That's my mom!"
Reo's eyes started sparkling. "Seriously?" He leaned closer. "That's awesome! I own a couple of her works myself."
Somewhere in the distance, Nagi felt his soul leave his body. Calm down, he thought. This is just a short exchange. Reo's coming back any second now.
Wait, right, only evil gods existed. Therefore, it's obvious that Reo would- instead of coming back home to Nagi's embrace- start sitting down next to Bachira with a smile so charming it could tempt Narcissus.
Oblivious to Nagi's whole existential crisis five meters away from him, Bachira nearly vibrated out of his seat. "Really?!" Then, pausing just long enough to reassess Reo from head to toe, his expression shifts into something resembling awe. "…Wait, wow. You must be loaded."
Reo laughed it off. "My name's Reo, tell me yours!"
“I’m Bachira Meguru!” the boy chirped, then immediately follows it up with, “Say, what’s your family name?”
There’s a beat. A tiny, fragile moment where the universe could still intervene.
It did not.
“Uh, Mikage,” Reo replied, blinking. “Why?”
Bachira smiled.
"Consider yourself a part of the Bachira household from now on." Bachira stood up, swept his arm beneath Reo's body, then lifted him up into a princess carry as they gazed face to face with each other. Mouths inches apart. "I'll be taking your hand in marriage. Take me to your parents now."
“O-oh, Bachira~♡!” Reo gasped, cheeks slowly reddening to a pretty pink. “I think I’m gonna swoon!”
…Fine, that last part might've been Nagi's shock-induced hallucination.
But from the way the conversation was going, it was definitely a possibility. Reo had said before that he would ditch Nagi if he turned terrible at soccer. Not that he has deteriorated. He's still an effortless genius, phew.
Regardless, Blue Lock isn't exactly a gathering of average players. It’s a curated collection of Japan’s most unhingedly talented strikers. The chances that Bachira might be a soccer mastermind is uncomfortably high.
Or… probably not, since Team V has the highest ranking players in the stratum and Bachira is undoubtedly not a part of it. Approximately more than half of the players in Team V are people Nagi doesn't bother memorizing the faces nor names of, but he's around eighty percent sure Bachira isn't in his team. Still, even if Bachira isn't exactly Team V material, he's still too close to Reo. In the span of a single conversation, Reo had mentally ingrained him from "another Blue Lock croonie", to 'painter-I-like's son'. A status that's too positive for Nagi's liking.
Not only that, but this supposed son is currently bragging to his peers about capturing Reo's heart as well!
Unbelievable.
"Sounds to me like this person you met has a really possessive boyfriend…" Isagi quietly mutters under his breath. Clearly not quiet enough because Nagi could hear his bold statement.
Nagi groans. Loud enough that all three people there start raising their brows. "Reo's not my boyfriend, he's my partner." Can't these people say one thing right? Not that they had the brain capacity to understand the deep, innate bond that Nagi and Reo share.
Bachira grins. "And Reopon’s my new friend, too! He was pretty nice to me!"
Nagi narrows his eyes. Bachira doesn't even seem bothered about Nagi. As if Nagi's not a threat. As if Nagi isn't Reo's most precious treasure in the world.
Spoiler alert, douchebag: Reo would much rather sell all of the works in his abstract collection to pay off Nagi's monthly water bills. And no amount of genetic charm will change that as long as Nagi's alive.
As he grits his teeth, Nagi points at Bachira. "Reo doesn't like you."
"Aw…"
Nagi points at Chigirin. "You’ll bore Reo to death.”
"I don't know who he is!"
Oh what the hell, he starts pointing at Isagi, too. "And your hair sucks.”
“…My mom think it’s cute.”
"And-"
“What in the world is happening?” Reo's voice cuts through the noise.
Nagi turns around to the sight of a concerned Reo. Worry laces every feature of his face. Strands of hair uncharacteristically poke out of his head. His chest is heaving rapidly, too. As if he'd sprinted here after waking up.
If this all went according to plan, Nagi would have finished them off before Reo woke up so Reo wouldn't be so anxious about Nagi's abscence. But alas, these nincompoops were more difficult than what Nagi expected.
Nevertheless, this is a bad situation. While Reo is a bonafide wife, he's also someone who takes pride and dignity a bit too seriously. He'd never want Nagi to throw hands for his sake. Because Reo's the type of independent wife who'd want to do it himself. The world would suffer five consecutive years of winter before Nagi would let that happen, though.
“Reooooo~” Nagi droops, strutting over to Reo's position. “They were bullying me~"
Record pause.
Imagine there's some omniscient presence looking at this scene from an other worldly monitor screen.
Now imagine what that presence would think at this very moment. The obvious conclusion that presence would make is that Nagi's a jerk who makes up scenarios so he can look good in front of his beloved partner. But this is a completely warranted reaction. For you see, if Reo finds out Nagi's the one who initiated the ruckus, there would be two possibilities.
One. That he'd join Nagi up and start fist fighting everyone on sight. A situation like that wouldn't be the most ideal. Mostly because the risk of Reo taking a blow to any part of his body would be enough to push Nagi into blowing the whole building up for even thinking about hurting his beloved wife. That will snowball into the entirety of Japan to go on a manhunt for him. Afterwards, he'd no longer be Nagi Seishirō, but an elusive and dangerous brooding criminal. Lastly, this will sadly lead to a harsh and winding path where he'd have to sacrifice the relaxing and peaceful future he'd been planning since he figured out the concept of capitalism. Oh, and Reo would be really sad about it, too. Not such a good ending.
And there's the second route. That Reo would be so disappointed in him that he'd leave Nagi forever.
Yeah, no, he'd rather go back to choice one and blow Blue Lock up with him still in it than risk that.
So while Nagi thinks lying is a pain, he deduces that this is the most preferred outcome for every party involved. If his experience in Hakuho had taught him anything, it's that Reo would usually rather calm his treasure down with sweet nothings than start escalating a fight when someone dared making fun of the Mikage heir's favorite person.
As Nagi nuzzles Reo's chest, Reo starts glaring at the supposed instigators. "You think it's funny ganging up on an innocent young man like this?"
"He literally towers over all of us." Chigirin folds his arms.
Taking none of that, Reo scoffs. "Save your excuses or I'll bring you all to court!" he pokes out his tongue. His glower resting slightly longer on Bachira. Bright yellow eyes deflate as violet ones pierce through their gaze. "Start having some sense of responsibility for once in your lives."
Admittedly, Nagi feels a bit guilty for ruining Bachira and Reo's budding friendship like this, but… But…!
"Reo's so cool~"
Angry Reo is kinda hot.
"Let's just go, treasure." Reo turns, arm shielding Nagi from the terrible soccer imps. He pulls Nagi closer as he guides the two of them away. "These people clearly have deep-rooted mental issues and are just looking for helpless bystanders to lash on to."
As the pair make their leave, the losers stand about absentmindedly.
“…What’s the consensus here, guys?”
“We beat their asses when we go against their team.”
Isagi nods at Chigiri. "I feel like our bonds have grown.”
Nagi sits on the bench amid the restless stomps of soccer cleats striking turf. Despite their ace taking a respite ages ago, Team V continued on with their practice drills. A completely pointless venture. Nagi, Reo, and Zantetsu would always be the ones to score the goals. No matter how hard they pushed themselves, they could never really measure up to the golden victory trio. Not that Nagi is willing to expend any bit of effort into explaining this to them. That'd be too much of a hassle for people he doesn't particularly care about.
Leaning back slightly, Nagi lets his gaze drift across the artificial green field. The cold, bright lights overhead mimicked daylight, but they lacked warmth. Still, his eyelids droop, pretending as if this was Hakuho's very own soccer field. As he closes his eyes, slumping his body slightly forward, a weight settles on the bench seat next to him. Nagi doesn't even need to peek to know who it is.
"They really didn't hurt you or anything, right, treasure?" Reo’s voice comes, soft and slow. Nagi feels fingers brushing through his bangs, lifting them carefully despite the sweat clinging to his skin. Reo leans closer, inspecting him like he’d find some hidden injury.
He continued angling his body, trying to check for any wounds that wouldn't be there because Nagi's verbal assault was practically one sided.
But Nagi wouldn't admit that. Because this felt nice.
Being doted on, being attended to, being… dare Nagi say, loved. It's addicting. It's warmth is incomparable to anything Nagi has ever felt. All those stories he heard of people being so overly attached to their fussy parents made sense to Nagi now. This is what all those children felt- safe. No wonder they'd rather stay in the quiet space their parents developed for them. Their parents' love is unconditional. Just like them, he doesn’t have to do anything, doesn’t have to prove anything, and still… Reo stays by his side.
Not to say that Reo's a parent figure to Nagi.
That thought alone made Nagi grimace internally. For starters, children don't usually want their parents giving them mouth-to-mouth in a non-life-threatening situation. And children don't dream of their parents marrying them or vowing to stay together for the rest of their lives. And children don't usually… Okay, you get the point.
Admittedly, there are children like that, but those children were most definitely groomed by parents that must be jailed. The only thing 'groomed' about Nagi is his hair, which have always been meticulously brushed by Reo for maximum fluffiness capacity. And if Reo gets imprisoned Nagi's sure his parents would bail him out of jail in under an hour.
"I already said 'no' a hundred times, Reooo~" Nagi finally mutters, his voice dragging lazily as he tilted his head away.
There comes a distinct, soft laugh. The one Reo uses every time he's trying to coax Nagi. "I'm just worried!" he insists, though his hands doesn't stop fussing.
Nagi blinks his eyes open. His vision blurs for a second under the harsh lights before settling on a flash of purple. A wide toothy grin. Strands of hair falling gracefully over gorgeous facial features. Flushed red cheeks. And… beads of sweat tracing down his neck, disappearing beneath tight compression suit hugging his body.
Nagi’s gaze lingers a second too long.
And he immediately groans and looks away.
Seriously. Even after all this time, he still can’t get used to it. The outfit is a problem. A big one. It's like a maniacal succubus weaved Reo's body into existence solely to drive Nagi into pure depravity. And Jinpachi Ego is forcing him on a chair in front of a huge screen that's blasting images of Reo's figure directly onto Nagi's pupils. Being pumped by adrenaline every day from constant soccer practice seriously isn't helping Nagi's case. His thoughts keep drifting away to places that are so immodest, so immoral, so unclean… that he's sure Reo would charge a restraining order if Mikage Corp. ever invents a mind-reading machine. Even if his brain is lagging too much from the Reo overdose to perceive the outfit, his body most certainly would react to it instantaneously.
"Does Reo have to wear this every day?" Nagi coughs, trying very hard to sound indifferent. He leans further into the bench. Eyes set so firmly on a single strand of artificial grass that he could practically see the microplastic atoms that form it.
He can feel Reo move closer anyway. "Don't change the subject!" Reo shoots back, ruffling his hair again. "And this suit is crucial in tracking our physical development. You know this, Nagi."
And just when Nagi's about to drop the subject, Reo flashes Nagi his signature Mikage Reo【2018 ver.】 Maximum Charm Output Overload™ ¥1.000.000 (subject to tax) Mega Pout. "What's wrong, Nagi? Was it those bullies?"
Nagi's in a bit of a bind.
Does this world think Nagi can take a lethal Reo pout and survive like a champ? How is he supposed to act as if nothing's going on when Reo's putting on such a cute face? With that bombshell body? From Reo's perspective, Nagi is probably going through something serious. Some lingering aftermath from the earlier encounter with those cafeteria delinquents… And is now coping in the most bizarre way possible. It makes Nagi feels like an anvil was dropped to his head.
If this was a Sunday morning cartoon and Nagi was your average hero protagonist, he'd probably be going 'This fight is finally getting interesting…!' right now. Which is shōnen lingo for: hey, so, unless you have plot armor you're probably gonna lose. And judging by how little Nagi's luck have served him these days, Reo's probably gonna start noticing Nagi's problem soon.
No, Reo. Nagi was not psychologically assaulted by third-rate bullies earlier. He just thinks Reo looks unfairly attractive right now.
But is he seriously going to have to say it directly at Reo's face? Seriously?
Suddenly, Reo takes Nagi's hand. Reo’s fingers wrap gently around his, giving a soft, reassuring squeeze before his thumb begins tracing slow, absent-minded circles against Nagi’s palm. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to. This has always been Reo's way of saying, 'I'm here. It's okay. You're safe.'
The guilt eats Nagi like maggots to a corpse.
"It's just that…" Nagi begins, only to stall halfway through. In that small lapse of silence, he catches the way Reo’s breathing shifts, barely noticeable, as if he’s bracing for something.
Is he really doing this? Is he doing it? Right here, right now?!
He glances at him again, then away just as quickly. "I can see all of Reo like this."
"…"
"…"
"…Uh," Reo blinks. Clearly an answer he didn't expect. "So?"
A long sigh drawls out of Nagi's mouth. "So…" he repeats slowly, dragging the word out as he tries to make it sound less awkward than it is, "It feels invasive."
Nagi watches from the corner of his eye as Reo’s head tilts slightly to the side, then a little more, and then somehow even further, like he’s trying to physically angle his way into understanding, and at this point it almost looks like he might just tip over entirely if he keeps going. "…Invasive?"
"Like I'm seeing something I'm not meant to…" he trails off.
There’s a beat of silence.
Then the beat turns into minutes.
And for Nagi: years.
Entire lifetimes seem to come and go in the span of that silence, each one more unbearable than the last as he sits there, trapped in the aftermath of his own words, acutely aware of just how long this pause has gone on for. At this point, he briefly considers his options, one of them being: standing up and walking out of Blue Lock entirely, booking a flight out of the country, disappearing somewhere remote, and inventing some kind of memory-erasing machine just to undo the last thirty seconds of his life.
Eventually, a sharp laugh bubbles out of Reo. "You perv!"
"H-huh?"
"Oh, man, this is hilarious." Reo continues, grinning like he’s just discovered a deep, dark secret. "Don't tell me you're getting all shy!"
A memory-erasing machine would sound really nice right about now.
Nagi frowns faintly, though he can’t really argue against it either. "Don't laugh at me~" he mutters, voice slipping back into that lazy drawl as he slumps further into the bench, trying to look as unbothered as possible. At the very least, Reo finds this situation amusing, not mortifying, so that's a small victory for Nagi.
"I'm not hearing a 'no' this time!" Reo presses, clearly enjoying this way too much. His grin stretches wider as he adds, "I can't believe it, Nagi Seishirō, a horn dog!"
The words land like machine gun bullets to Nagi's conscience.
This is embarrassing- far more than it needs to be. Regardless of whether this actually qualifies as the worst possible outcome, Nagi knows one thing for certain: he does not want to sit here and be subjected to Reo’s endless, merciless teasing, especially not when Reo looks like he’s having the time of his life. Sure, his wife has a stunning smile that can cure endless diseases, but when he's laughing at Nagi's expense- at Nagi's accused perversion… Safe to say, Nagi finds his grandfather's jokes to be funnier than this.
With a quiet huff, Nagi raises his shoulders and tilts his head downward, burying his face into the towel draped around his neck as if that alone could hide him. The fabric feels warmer than it should, almost uncomfortably so, and it takes him a second to realize it’s because of the heat pooling in his face, seeping into the cloth and staying there.
"I'm no~t," he mutters into the towel, voice muffled and drawn out weakly. "Fine. If Reo's being mean about it I won't look at Reo, ever," he declares, trying to lace the words with something resembling a threat.
Silence follows.
Nagi’s grip tightens slightly on the towel as his thoughts begin to spiral somewhere unhelpful. Did Reo finally get fed up? Did he actually think Nagi was weird, worse, a freak… and just leave? The idea settles unpleasantly in his chest, making his throat feel tight, like something is pressing in on it. His ribs ache faintly with each breath, and a thin layer of cold sweat starts to form along his skin despite the lingering warmth.
…Before he feels a weight dipping right on his lap.
Nagi gasps, his head snapping up in surprise, only to be met with the sight of Reo sitting there as if he belongs, balanced comfortably and resting between Nagi’s thighs, a wide, fox-like grin playing across his lips.
"If you hate seeing me wear this so badly…" Reo murmurs, his voice dropping soft, as he casually tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. The goosebumps on Nagi's skin flare as Reo's breath sweeps over his neck.
"…I'll take it off on your fifteenth goal. Capiche?"
Before Nagi can respond, before he can even think, Reo reaches for his hands, guiding them with an ease, placing them at his waist and nudging his fingers until they curl instinctively along the contours there, as if that’s exactly where they’re meant to be.
Nagi’s heart stutters. Loud enough that it drowns everything else out. The distant sounds of practice. The rhythmic pounding of cleats. The hormonal football players yelling across the field.
…Maybe good Gods do exist, and they gave Nagi Seishirō the gift of Mikage Reo.
Nagi swallows, his throat dry, his eyes fixed helplessly on the lines of Reo’s hips, like looking anywhere else simply isn’t an option anymore. He can practically feel Reo's tongue sticking out, a trait that comes out when he’s feeling really cocky. Nagi could refuse. Say something like, 'You should value your dignity more than a few ball goals.' Let himself reap more of Reo's cute pout when he feels like his taunts failed. Make the two of them walk away from this interaction as totally platonic partners and keep the state of their relationship pure. Be the more mature person.
But alas, what is Nagi Seishirō, if not a wife-pleasing husband?
When he finally speaks, he does so quietly. So quietly even he couldn't hear himself.
"…Yes, boss."