Chapter Text
Mikage Reo did not beg.
He did not need to, after all everything had always been given to him, and even then his father had drilled into him the same few words everyday of his life.
'A Mikage does not beg.'
He breaks this rule the moment he meets him.
Seishiro Nagi.
And for the first time in Reo's life, he wants something money cannot buy.
A partner.
Reo has never adored anyone more than he has Nagi, so he does the only thing that someone who has always had too much can do, he gives.
And give he does.
"Reo, carry me." Nagi's monotonous voice drawls, and Reo is helpless to those grey eyes.
He gives and he gives and he gives, he carries and he talks, he smiles and praises and he pours his entire soul into the existence of the singular being that believes in him.
Because that's it really, Nagi believes in him, not the Mikage heir, not the student council president, not the social butterfly but simply… Reo.
So he holds him tighter and closer than he has anyone, memorises the curve of his nose and the flutter of his lashes just because he can.
Reo adores Nagi and so he sees no problem in the relationship they have, not quite lovers, not quite friends, one who receives and one who gives. He has always had plenty, why shouldn't he give more, not when he sees the way Nagi preen under his soft words and tender touch. So he doesn't mind being the one who speaks first, or the one to find him in bustling corridors, he does it all out of purest adoration.
And while Nagi doesn't grab him onto him first, he lets himself be held, he allows himself to be dragged into band practises and football games and study sessions. He sings and Nagi strums the guitar, Reo passes the ball and he scores, Reo teaches and Nagi learns.
He is content.
He is, until the topic of university is brought up, his parents want him to do some pretentious business degree, a side of economics if he really wants to succeed. And he does, but he wants to do it on his terms.
A university with a good music club and a promising literature degree, he wants it so badly. The adrenaline of a crowd and the magic lingering under words, he wants both and he will have it.
He is good at everything but never the best, perhaps that is because he has never truly tried to be, perhaps that's why he's so desperately trying to convince his parents to trust his choice.
They don't and Reo wants to achieve something completely and undeniably his own.
He wants something more than the preordained path that has been laid out, he wants passion, he wants to be more than a symbol for his parents.
He wants a victory of his own.
His mother and father dont believe in him, their eyes give them away, scrunched up and murky. The sort you give a child who states they want the impossible.
"—only the chosen can make it."
His father's voice trails off and all Reo can do is keep his face impassive, no furrowed brows or wobbling lips, but perhaps his mother knows him better than he thinks because suddenly a warm hand is placed on his shoulder.
"We only want what's best for you son."
Reo smiles, and he'd like a reward for the professionalism he kept, because that night he finally realises that though his parents love him, they don't love him.
He is a trophy of the perfect son, another victory of their life, the next successor. He is not Reo.
He blurts this out to Nagi one day, when they're laying on the school roof, with the ocean of blue melting over them.
"Ah I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say so much." Humiliation burns at him as he subconsciously scratches at his wrists, a tactic he had employed to keep him tethered when studying into the night.
"Reo."
But he's too far into his head right now, not until Nagi gently pulls at his wrist, fingers wrapped gently over his so he has no choice but to meet his eyes.
"Reo just has to show them who he is."
His words are blunt but come with such confidence, confidence in him, that for the first time in his life, Reo truly believes in someone.
If Reo were the lyrics then Nagi is the melody.
Reo likes to tell and Nagi likes to show.
Mikage Reo is not a jealous person. He has never needed to be, why would he when everything can be replaced.
Except maybe he's starting to realise that means so can he.
He realises this for the first time in their last football match of their high school career, high school finals, the score is 2-1, they are losing. The opposing team have a strong offence, at the centre is a boy with dark blue hair, he thinks faster than they can move.
Reo feels the sweat dripping down his brow, football, while not his extreme passion, is a choice he made himself, and he'd be damned if it ends in second place.
So he runs harder, passes quicker, Nagi remains at his steadfast pace and Reo knows he can't beg him to feel the same urgency, after all he was the one who said he'd do all the hard work.
Then something changes in those grey eyes, maybe the fire in that blue-haired boy had spread or maybe he could sense the desperation clinging to Reo. He doesn't have time to hope it is the latter.
Because, Seishiro Nagi, who loathes any extreme activities, is running and his mouth is moving and Reo is stumbling to catch up.
"Reo!"
His voice is the only thing he can hear, and Reo knows he needs to get the ball to him, so he feints and lunges to the right before the opposing teams deffence can intercept him and without looking he shoots and trusts that Nagi will be there to find his pass.
He scores with 5 seconds left of the match.
Nagi glows with the pride of someone who has earned something through their own means.
"Treasure!"
Nagi turns to him, just as Reo jumps on his back, vibrating with possibility and hope. Nagi's arm is wrapped securely around him and Reo feels like he can do the impossible.
The whistle blows.
"Reo is heavy." He says apathetically, but there's an underlying sense of embarrassment hidden under his bluntness.
Reo knew what it was, Nagi had discovered a passion. And he had never looked more beautiful in that moment, not even when those grey eyes drifted to a mop of blue hair.
They don't win the penalties
Reo rests his head on the lockers, head pounding. They didn't win. What use was second place, every path he chose he vowed to be the best. If he couldn't win a football game, what made him think he could win against his parents expectations.
He takes a deep breath before checking his phone, staring at the singular message his father had sent.
Second place?
His throat feels swollen and he feels like hes going to fall. He should have ran harder.
His teammates are trickling out and Reo can't cry now, not in front of them, so he bites his lip and digs his nails into the damp skin of his arms. Eyes hazy with gentle pain his head shoots up because he needs—
"Nagi?"
But he's not there. Reo needs him and for once in his life he wants Nagi to hold him.
He feels lucid as he scours the corridors, boisterous laughter and heady smiles, bodies fill the corridor but none which belong to his Nagi.
The he sees them, the blue-haired player and Nagi. Both are engaged in animated conversation, heads furiously nodding. From where he's standing he can't see Nagi's face, only the burning passion of the other boy, but then he tilts his head and Reo freezes.
Nagi is smiling, an expression of determination etched on his face as his usually soft eyes flick with something Reo has never seen before.
An expression he has never seen before, a smile which is only reserved for him, directed at someone else.
Mikage Reo doesn't get jealous, he doesn't, but oh he feels betrayal. Bitter and burning at his throat, threatening to destroy him where he stands.
So he does the only thing a midfielder can, he runs.
Now had Reo looked away from Nagi, he would have caught amber eyes filled with the same manner of betrayal, or even if he had left several minutes later he would have bumped into a heartbroken spectator with hair burnt pink.
But he didn't. His eyes remained on the first person who had believed in him.
Now had these circumstances been even a little more different, perhaps Reo would have gained allies, perhaps his summer would have been filled with laughter and understanding.
But luck favours those who seek it, and as of now, Reo did not.
But Lady luck is not heartless, she will wait a little longer for the boy who has only learnt how to give.