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Reo always wakes Nagi in the morning. A copy of his dorm’s key was made for that very purpose, and he took pride in knowing he was the only one trusted with such a unique task.
Today, however, Reo went to wake Nagi—forty minutes before they needed to leave, ensuring his treasure had enough time to get ready even with his numerous attempts to fall back asleep—and found the other fully-dressed and ready to go, sitting in his kitchen.
The sight was so baffling Reo almost thought Nagi must have been sleepwalking if it weren't for the fact that his eyes were open.
“Nagi?”
A sleepy blink. “Reo.”
“You’re awake,” he said, intelligently.
Nagi didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps care, about him stating the obvious. He blinked again slowly, then placed his cheek on the table, looking tired.
Reo frowned.
“Have you been up all night?”
A slight head shake.
“Are you sick?”
Another head shake.
Just in case, Reo carded his hand through Nagi’s bangs, pushing his hair back to feel his forehead. Sure enough, his forehead didn’t feel unusually warm.
Nagi leaned into the touch like a greedy puppy, and Reo barely held himself back from cooing.
Nagi suddenly tensed and backed away.
Reo pursed his lips at the change, but didn’t comment. “Let’s get going then.”
Nagi nodded.
Before Reo could pick up Nagi’s bag, the other slung it across his back and headed for the door. Reo’s jaw dropped.
“Nagi?” He stopped, looking back at the violette. “You don’t want to be carried?”
To his surprise, Nagi shook his head. “Not today.”
Reo was so stunned he barely remembered to lock the door and follow after him until Nagi was already halfway to the car.
In homeroom, Reo’s gaze was fixated on Nagi. Instead of snoozing away, Nagi was awake—head propped up on his fist and occasionally dipping before startling himself conscious every so often. That, combined with the sleepy blinks made the sight all too precious.
Reo wished he could take a video, but resolved to commit the sight to memory.
Strangely, Nagi hadn’t slept on the ride to school either—him warming Reo’s side as he used his shoulder like a pillow and making his heart squeeze in that terribly wonderful way—and instead sitting on the other side of the limo, eyes vacant even as he tapped away at a game on his phone. It was all very unusual.
At the end of class, Reo instinctively moved to Nagi’s desk and clapped a hand on his shoulder to wake him up.
“Reo?”
“Went to wake you up on instinct,” he laughed. “You drinking coffee milk again?”
Nagi shook his head. “No coffee milk.”
He stood, and stared at Reo expectantly. Reo realized his hand was still holding his shoulder.
He shoved it in his pocket, and noticed the students still leaving the classroom.
Usually, Reo would have to coax Nagi awake over the few minutes between classes. Their next ones were nearby, so it wasn’t a problem, especially since Reo liked the ambiance of being the only one in the empty classroom with Nagi, his sleepy-eyed treasure blinking himself conscious with a soft pout from being disturbed.
This Nagi, however, was awake and trudging towards the doors to join the crowded hallways for his next class.
While efficient, Reo couldn’t help but hate it.
Reo set down their bento boxes, making sure they were easily accessible. Nagi liked to lay on his shoulder during lunch, and having the food too far away was a sure way to make sure it wouldn’t get eaten, since Reo isn’t heartless enough to jostle Nagi when he’s trying to sleep.
It would take a few minutes for his counterpart to get there, even on his most energetic of days. Nagi’s biggest motivation to get to the rooftop was to avoid others, and, hopefully now that they were close, to see Reo.
He spread out the food to his left, making sure there was plenty of room for Nagi to tuck into his right as always.
Footsteps on the ladder alerted Reo of his presence, albeit a bit early, and he sat down and waited for his treasure. Instead of following procedure, Nagi sat across from him.
Reo could only stand to watch the other fumble in his bag for a few moments before speaking up.
“Nagi?”
“Mm?”
More of a grunt than a reply, but Reo didn’t mind.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
Why aren’t you by my side? he wanted to ask instead.
“Lunch.”
Nagi finally produced a bento from his own bag and placed it in front of himself. Reo eyed the box with curiosity. He knew his treasure could do anything he put his mind to, but this likely wasn’t something he had. Knowing Nagi, there’s a good chance it was full of jelly packs.
Sluggish fingers opened the box, revealing a sloppy rice bowl. White rice, fish, vegetables, and what looked like a heavily butchered tamagoyaki roll. Still, it was far more balanced than what Reo expected, even if the portions were smaller than what Nagi should be eating.
“Good job! I should’ve known my treasure was talented.”
Nagi glowed from the praise, puffing up a little. Reo wanted to poke those puffy cheeks.
“Next time, let me know when you’re bringing your own, okay?” Reo advised.
Nagi looked at the two bento boxes to Reo’s side and deflated a little.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
Reo frowned. He didn’t mean to bring the mood down.
“It’s not a big deal, I can take it home.”
He punctuated this with a pat to Nagi’s head, but the other seemed to deflate more. Reo frowned, and pulled his hand away.
He expected Nagi’s familiar, “Reo, feed me,” to come any second, but the other surprised him by taking out his chopsticks and picking up a bite of egg.
He watched, transfixed, as Nagi slowly ate, mildly disgruntled when he dropped grains of rice.
“Reo’s staring.”
Reo blinked, broken from the trance. Nagi was staring down at his bento, attempting to grab more rice with his chopsticks.
“I can help.”
Nagi’s head shot up. “It’s fine,” he said, all too quickly.
“O—” Nagi’s gaze dropped back down to his lunch “—kay.” Reo squinted at him, “Let me know if you need anything.”
Nagi was quiet, poking at his rice with a frown. Reo inwardly sighed and finally went about eating his own lunch.
After class, Reo would usually meet Nagi at his desk, his cheek squished against the wood as he dozed.
“Reo?”
Reo startled, glancing around the hallway until he saw Nagi. He was near the entrance to the path, so Reo must’ve walked right past him.
“Nagi? You’re not supposed to be here.”
Nagi frowned, confusion knitting his brow. “I go here.”
Reo waved his hand defensively, “I just meant you’re usually at your desk still. Did you wake up from your nap early?”
Not that that would stop Nagi. If he wasn’t asleep, the other would be sitting still, trying to get back to slumbering.
“I didn’t nap at all.”
“What?!”
The hallway quieted, and Reo realized just how loud he was being. Students gawked at the Mikage heir making a scene, but besides dropping his voice to a normal volume, he ignored them. Reputation be damned, this was important.
“You haven’t slept all day! Are you sure you aren’t sick? There’s a thermometer in the nurse’s office we can use—”
“Reo,” Nagi’s voice edged on a whine.
“Fine,” Reo conceded, hating to admit how the tone calmed him down a little. If Nagi was okay enough to whine, he was okay enough to avoid the nurse. For now. Probably.
Maybe it was best to be sure—
“Reo,” Nagi pouted, no doubt recognizing the look in Reo’s eyes.
“Okay, okay. But you’d tell me if you weren’t feeling good, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” He patted his head in approval.
Like this morning, Nagi began to lean into it before hesitating and leaning away.
“We’re going to be late for practice,” Nagi said.
That was blatantly untrue, especially since Nagi already being awake spared them several minutes where Reo would coerce him from slumber and finally get on his back so they could head to practice, but what was shocking was that Nagi cared about it.
“What?!”
Another silence in the hallway.
“Reo is embarrassing," Nagi mumbled, ears flushed.
Reo’s face went red. He took Nagi’s hand and began ushering him to the field.
“You’re the one acting weird!” he chastised.
Nagi pouted. “Is it really so out of the ordinary?”
“Yes!”
Nagi quietly sulked as Reo dragged him the rest of the way to the locker rooms.
Once there, Reo opened his locker and pulled out his spare bag.
When he turned, Nagi was already looking through his locker—Reo was surprised he even knew the combination—, brows creased in confusion.
“Where are my clothes?”
“I have them,” Reo dug through the bag and pulled out their track suits. He offered Nagi his, who took it gingerly.
“Why?”
“I have them cleaned in between practices,” Reo said. “I can’t have my treasure walking around in sweaty clothes.”
Nagi’s brows furrowed further. “Reo—”
“Reo, we need your help on the field!” one of their teammates called, poking his head into the locker room.
“On my way!” He turned back to Nagi. “What were you saying?”
His expression was sour. “Nothing.”
Reo shrugged it off and headed to the field. Whatever Nagi wanted to tell him could wait.
Practice was…strange.
Reo had prepared to follow his usual schedule of training with the team while also encouraging Nagi to do the bare minimum.
Instead, Nagi participated.
He stretched—albeit a bit sloppily—, ran laps and suicide drills, and even practiced shooting. His form was top notch, and he even made an effort to land on his feet instead of dropping to the ground like a ragdoll afterwards.
There was a small line to his jaw that showed his displeasure, but his expression was otherwise impassive. The sudden change had their teammates whispering, as it was obvious something was different.
“What’s up with Nagi?”
“Did you see that? He’s never been so fired up before.”
“You think someone caught his eye?”
Reo’s teeth ground together with a painful click, and he forcibly unclenched his jaw.
“Okay everyone, that’s enough for today. I’ll see you all Monday!” Reo called.
Finally free, their teammates chorused their goodbyes and headed back to the locker room. That left just him and Nagi for a bit of additional practice.
When he turned, Nagi was on his phone.
Reo internally sighed in relief. At least something was normal.
“What game are you playing?”
“Not a game,” Nagi mumbled. He turned the screen, displaying a soccer video where the players pulled off a tricky move. “Can we try?”
“You want to try?” Reo could hardly keep the incredulousness out of his voice.
Nagi nodded, “Looks easy.”
Reo snickered. Of course Nagi would think that.
They end up rewatching the video a few times. Reo’s part would be difficult since he had to take on the role of two people, but it’s nothing he couldn’t handle.
He visualized himself in place of the players, dribbling the ball back and forth, flicking it up and vaulting himself forward to mimic the position of the other player. There, he would catch the ball, dribble once more, and finally send it in a smooth arc to Nagi who would trap it, dribble, then kick the ball up before shooting it in the net.
“Got it,” Reo said.
As expected, it was a seamless success.
Learning the trick took up most of their usual time, so they spent the rest working on precision. 9 out of 10 times Reo could hit the targeted areas of a net, whereas Nagi could only hit 6.
Reo was almost grateful for whatever had caused Nagi to be so driven today, as he couldn’t see the other approaching the task with as much gusto as he would’ve any other day.
After thinking that, Reo’s mood immediately soured, remembering their teammates’ theories about Nagi’s behavior.
He collected the ball after the last practice round, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so motivated before.”
Nagi shrugged while putting away the last bit of equipment. “Reo said we had an important match coming up.”
Something fluttered in his gut. “You remembered?” Wrong thing to focus on. “I mean, you wanted a reward, right? For your hard work.” Reo opened his phone, scrolling through a list of things he knew Nagi liked—he already had it memorized, but one could never be too careful. “How about snacks? Or that limited edition lemon tea? Oh, there’s a sequel to that game you like—”
“No.”
Reo paused. “No?”
Nagi shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable. “No reward.”
Reo glanced between him and his phone. “Are you sure? There’s got to be something you want.”
Nagi let out a half-hearted hum, eyes flicking away. Reo went quiet, pocketing his phone.
The walk back to the locker room was silent. The others had already left, eager to start their weekends, so it was just the two of them.
There was a bit of tension in the air, and it felt difficult to start a conversation. This was a first for Reo, as he was used to saying whatever came to mind, but at the moment his mind was blank.
Without prompting, Nagi shuffled off to shower and change. Reo followed suit.
When he was done, Nagi was already fully dressed and sitting on the bench with his back against the lockers. He was playing a game on his phone, the sound effects being the only noise in the otherwise silent room.
Reo dressed quickly, shoving his tracksuit in a spare bag. He looked around for Nagi’s pile of clothing, but couldn’t find it. Figuring Nagi must’ve left them in the shower area, he headed back over.
“Nagi, you could at least put your clothes closer to my bag,” Reo grumbled.
He wasn’t really upset by this, but it gave him something to say.
Nagi’s disinterested voice came from behind him. “I have them.”
“You could’ve told me that before I started looking for them,” he complained good-naturedly. He held out his bag, “Go ahead and put them in.”
Nagi looked up from his phone. “Is Reo going to wash them?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s okay.”
Silence, save for the beeps and explosions from Nagi’s phone.
“You can’t play in dirty clothes, Nagi. It’s just not hygienic.”
“I can wash them myself.”
“Why?” Reo asked. “Isn’t that too much of a hassle? I’ll take care of it.”
Nagi dropped his phone to his lap. “I can do things on my own. I don’t need you for everything.”
Reo swallowed, gutted. Nagi was still staring at him, an unusually steely look in his eye.
Reo looked away. “Right, let’s go then.”
The walk is once again a silent one. At least this time Nagi also looked troubled, glancing between Reo and the path.
They stood in the usual area, waiting for Ba-Ya. Since coaxing Nagi out of the shower and out of the building usually took a while, they had some spare time before she arrived.
“I don’t need rides anymore.”
Reo’s heart stopped. “Huh?”
Nagi looked on, impassive. “I can take the train like I used to.”
Reo’s heart seized in his chest.
Nagi wasn’t pulling away from Reo. He couldn’t be. Whatever this was, it was a misunderstanding. Reo had never lost anything in his entire life, and Nagi would not be the first.
“You’re different today,” Reo started carefully, “did something change?”
Nagi hesitated before nodding. Reo chewed on his lip.
Did he finally find motivation for himself? Did he find it in another? And most importantly:
Was Reo still necessary in his life?
“What changed?
“Reo.”
“Seriously, what’s going on with you? You’ve been acting weird this whole day.”
“It’s not weird,” Nagi protested.
“It is,” Reo emphasized. “You’re not like this. You play games and sleep all day.”
Reo didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but the words came out sharp and ragged from the buildup of stress. Nagi’s eyes widened in hurt, his body bristling.
“I’m trying to fix that.”
“Why? Getting spoiled is your whole thing.”
Nagi narrowed his brows. “I’m not a kid, I can do things on my own.”
“But you don’t. You never have!”
“I don’t need you, Reo,” Nagi’s voice was deep with anger.
His expression made Reo pause. In the months since they’ve met, Nagi has never been more than slightly annoyed. Being on the receiving end of narrowed eyes and a gaze thick with irritation caused Reo to forcibly unwind and put things into perspective.
Nagi was trying today. He woke himself up, fed himself, and participated in soccer. He was becoming independent, motivated even. Whatever Nagi was striving for, he’d get. It was guaranteed of the lazy genius—a title earned for a reason. And if what he wanted was to be away from Reo, well.
He swallowed roughly, straightening his shoulders and pulling himself together as best he could.
“If I’m doing too much, let me know and I’ll back off. Just,” Reo inhaled sharply, grief making his voice weak, “just don’t leave me behind, okay?”
The request floated between them, weightless and heavy all at once. Reo finally glanced up and flinched.
Nagi looked guilty. Head dipped, brow creased, and gray eyes big and sad.
“Nagi?”
His hand made an aborted move to reach for him, but stopped. Nagi frowned harder at that, practically wilting.
“I’m a burden, Reo.”
The statement hit Reo hard. “My treasure could never—”
“You wake me up, carry me to class, make my lunch, feed me, wash my clothes, reward me, and drive me home just to do it all over again,” Nagi hung his head, ashamed. “I help you score, that’s it.”
“I…”
Reo squared his shoulders, and pulled out his phone.
The caller picked up on the first ring.
“Master Reo,” the other greeted.
“Ba-Ya, would you mind waiting a bit for Nagi and I? We need to talk.”
“Very well. Call me when you’re ready.”
Reo hung up. Nagi was wide-eyed, face a little fearful.
“Come on, I know a place to sit.”
Nagi trailed behind him as he led them to a pavilion not too far away. He sat on one side of the table as Nagi sat on the other.
Nagi looked like a kicked puppy, droopy eyes worried. He jumped when Reo reached over to card his fingers through snowy hair.
“Reo?” he asked, voice disbelieving and hopeful all at once.
“Nagi,” he answered, voice gentle.
They sat in silence for a moment, Reo working through the tangles in Nagi’s hair as the other finally lost the tension in his frame.
“My treasure could never be a burden,” Reo insisted. “I love taking care of you.”
Nagi still looked troubled, so Reo waited, fingers combing through pale locks.
After a few minutes, he spoke. “I need to be more independent. I can’t rely on Reo for everything.”
Privately, Reo disagreed. He’d love to take care of Nagi’s every whim. Nothing made him feel more elated than the grateful look in Nagi’s eyes when he helped him out. Being useful felt good, and no one could do it better than Reo.
“Why?”
“Partners are supposed to be equal, aren’t they?”
Reo bluescreened for a moment. “Are you serious?”
That was what kept Reo from his usual Nagi time? Some stupid idealization on what relationships should look like?
“I need Reo more than Reo needs me.”
Reo was reeling.
How could Nagi even think that? How could he feel lacking when in reality Reo had never found someone more fit to be his other half?
Not noticing his distress, Nagi continued, “I want a relationship where Reo can depend on me too.” In a small voice, “I’m too clingy compared to Reo.”
Enraged, Reo jumped up from his seat, slamming his hands on the table. Nagi was startled, but for once he didn’t care about his comfort.
“Of course you’re clingy with me, but I’m clingy with you too!” Reo shouted, gripping his shirt. Nagi’s eyes went wide. “I’m clingy in the way that I need to be useful. I need to have you with me and I need to make your life easier!”
His fingers released Nagi’s shirt, “I love that you’re always by my side. I love that you share your games and your time with me. I love that you don’t try to control me or treat me like I’m incapable. I love that I can be myself with you. I love that you score goals for me and only me!”
By the end Reo was panting, face reddening from both exertion and embarrassment. Nagi caught his hand in his, gripping it like a landline as he stood as well.
“I love that you take care of me. I love that you wanted me. I love that you prioritize me. I love that you shared your dream with me. I love that you love me.”
“That I love…?” Reo echoed, face ablaze.
“I love Reo too,” Nagi confessed, as easy as breathing, “but I wanted to prove I could be a good partner first.”
Reo was stunned into silence, mouth opening and closing like a fish.
Everything Nagi had done today was to prove he could be a good partner. The independence, the unusual motivation, the pushback against Nagi’s very own lazy nature was all for Reo. It would be impossible not to be weak-kneed at that display of devotion.
That, and apparently Nagi knew what Reo was feeling long before Reo himself did, making him stumble.
“Sh-Shouldn’t I be telling you how I feel?” he managed out, heart beating dangerously fast.
Nagi shrugged, hand still gripping his. Reo swallowed, and readjusted their hands so their fingers were laced together.
“I love you, Nagi,” the words flowed effortlessly, like they were always meant to be said. “I want you to rely on me.”
“I love you, Reo,” he squeezed his hand. “I want you to rely on me too.”
“I already do,” Reo grinned. “There’s no one I trust more to win the World Cup with.”
A dusting of red crept over Nagi’s cheeks and Reo felt the urge to coo at the sight.
His phone buzzed, and he regretfully looked away from his blushing treasure to see a message from Ba-Ya.
“I think we’ve kept her waiting long enough.”
He slid off the bench and bent to pick up his bag. To his surprise, Nagi grabbed it instead, hiking it over his shoulder with his other one.
Reo felt a crease in his brow form, but quickly smoothed it out. “Thank you, treasure.”
If Nagi wanted to seek reliability this way, Reo wouldn’t stop him. Of course, he still wished the other would’ve taken his words to heart more on how he genuinely enjoyed spoiling him.
To Reo’s pleasure, Nagi just shook his head. “It’s to keep your hands free.” He raised his arms. “Carry me.”
Fondness flooded Reo’s chest, and let his counterpart climb onto him, the familiar weight on his back and the sleepy breathing against his neck feeling like home.