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There's something about reunions that is often associated with nostalgia. Seeing the faces that made up your youth smells like fall. Sometimes, they feel cold as the winter memories embrace you like ghosts from your past. Other times, it's burning like the days you spent eating ice cream and popsicles under the sun. Maybe it's flowery—colorful and alive like the laughter of friends growing up, and muted hues—like the subtle sadness of drifting apart.
The thing about youth is that it's a peak of everything and nothing. You think you are the world, and then you realize you are nothing but a speck of dust in the vast universe.
Looking back, Reo thinks the pinnacle of his love was during his youth—in the field, with dirt on their shoes, wounds on their knees, and silly laughter from their chests. Reo digs through the back of his mind. He opens the book of memories of springtime. He allows himself to knock the ink over, let it spill onto the pages of remembrances he had with so many people and one, and does not mind how imperfect the splashes are against the pages of a long left chapter. Because it's reminiscent of their youth—how zestful they are. They're bold, driving, vigorous but also so greatly imperfect.
Reo does not find it hard to colour these monochromatic memories again in his mind. It wasn't difficult to do so, when he's standing a few feet away from the faces of these stories. All at once, the pages of the book gained voices and tints of then and now.
Kunigami's living room is filled with cheers and chaos—the good kind, fortunately. Reo arrived fairly late, so it's expected to see the apartment packed once he did. The boys are still as rowdy as before, but maybe it comes with the fact that they are reunited with the people who caused the boisterous phases of their lives. Reo thinks it's another power of reunions—easily unlocking a part of yourself you thought you had already kept asleep inside of you. After all, Reo does not remember Isagi being this rowdy whenever he's on interviews. Even Bachira's appearances on televisions now are a lot more subdued than the childish Bachira he remembers during the Blue Lock project. However, they're both screaming on a microphone right now while simultaneously playing with a tin-sounding tambourine, and definitely off tune to whatever song they're trying to sing along on Kunigami's television screen.
"Nagi was waiting for you," Chigiri whispers to him during their embrace. Reo looks over the crowded living room to see a mop of gray. He does not look for long. Before he can have his eyes on him, Nagi already has his eyes on Reo.
Reo throws a smile towards Nagi. Nagi replies with another one.
He can't help but laugh a little as he and Chigiri pulled away from the welcoming embrace. “I’m surprised he wasn’t late.” Reo still remembers Nagi being always the latecomer in their small get-togethers before. Whenever the boys decide to play games in Shibuya, Nagi would arrive late because he got distracted by another game he passed by, or he just did not want to show up early. No one really asked Nagi about his reasons. They figured he'd just been that way.
But, he’s early now. Reo still sees the same old Nagi, but it’s clear he changed, too.
“That’s what growing up does to people, maybe?”
“Maybe,” Chigiri sing-songs. He lets Reo hang his coat on the rack before asking his friend, "You're gonna talk to him first?"
Reo looks over Chigiri's shoulder to see Nagi staring at him. Their youth had gone and passed, but looking at Nagi now reminds Reo of wordlessly gazing at each other's eyes and nodding simultaneously, telepathically deciding to stop by a convenience store after training. They did the same before, and they did the same now. However, Reo noticed that they don't nod at the exact same time anymore. Reo is a little fast, Nagi a little late. Like partners in dancing who hadn't danced in a while, they're a little out of sync, but they still got some of the moves right.
"Yeah, I think we will."
Reo waits outside Kunigami's building. He wears his coat again. It didn't even spend a whole minute on the rack.
A hand gently taps him on the shoulder. Reo turns to see Nagi behind him, still with that lock of hair over his forehead that miraculously does not stab his eyeball. Younger Reo would have reached out to brush Nagi's hair away from his face, to let it breathe from the messy locks that Nagi had never given an effort to fix. However, despite their faces not changing much from the last time they have seen each other, Reo grew up from those heart thumping moments of late adolescence. Reo still keeps them close to his heart, but he admits it's locked a little further away from the center of his fondness.
"Long time no see."
"Reo," Nagi says as a greeting. Reo just smiles at him. Nagi nods his head again as a greeting before looking ahead.
"Wanna go for a walk?" Reo asked. Nagi nods at him. Reo leads the way by jerking his head towards the pathway away from the building of their friend's apartment. "I saw a park I passed by earlier. There's a coffee truck situated there nearby."
Nagi tries to match his steps, and sometimes fails at it. Sometimes Reo had to walk slowly because he thinks he's being too fast, but then Nagi would suddenly bump into him. Sometimes, Nagi would walk fast to catch up to Reo, only to bump into his shoulder when Reo looks back to see if he hasn't left him behind yet. It's at the seventh bump that they burst out laughing behind their palms. The awkwardness of trying to match the other slowly dissipates. Somehow, they both figured out that the problem would be fixed if Nagi would walk beside Reo and not behind him.
So, Nagi silently took his space beside Reo. His arm slightly brushes against Reo's as they walk through the path further from their friend's residence. "You walked on the way here?"
"Yep," Reo grins. "I commuted on the way here. Kunigami's apartment isn't hard to find."
Their steps are starting to get in sync this time.
Reo hums under his breath, hoping to block the eerie quietude between him and his companion. He does not know what Nagi is thinking. Like how he was before, it seems Nagi is still not quite the talker. Even if he's getting better at interviews and large press conferences, it seems Nagi is still pretty subdued when he's in his own bubble. Younger Reo wasn't able to understand Nagi before, and he won't pretend he does now. However, Reo was able to be with Nagi without his words before. Perhaps, Reo can do the same now, too.
But before Reo could change to another tune that hasn't left his mind since yesterday, Nagi's voice chooses to call for him.
"Reo?"
"Yes?"
"Do I make you uncomfortable?"
Reo stops from his walk to stare at Nagi, but not without a smile on his face. "Ah, what gives?"
Nagi wordlessly stares down at his hands.
Reo didn't know he was fiddling with his hair.
He didn't pull his hand away like he got himself burnt. Instead, Reo slides it down his neck, scratching the skin there with his nails to let himself feel. He hasn't registered that he has been looking uncomfortable. In a way, maybe he is—a little bit. He hasn't been with Nagi for quite some time, and Reo does not have it in him to lie on the first times they've talked closely to each other again after not conversing for long. "Not exactly. I'm just… it's been a while, hasn't it?"
Nagi seems to understand where he's coming from, judging from the silent way he nods with a little smile on his lips. "Yeah…" and when Reo thought that they would settle back to the awkward silence, Nagi proved him wrong by starting the engine of the conversation. "Life has been busy for you?"
Ah, yes. This is a more familiar territory.
Reo exhales, arranging his thoughts in his head. "I don't know where to start…" Life has been busy for him, that much is true. This is the only month he had for himself this year. "Business world is always busy, as you know, and its landscape always changes, so keeping up to ensure that you're up to the trends does take a lot of time." Reo contemplates his next words, stealing small glances at Nagi's way. Reo knows that saying what he wants to say would open a can of worms he's not sure both of them are ready to dive into.
"What is it?"
Reo stares at the road ahead. "I'm doing some coaching on the sidelines, too."
Nagi stopped in his tracks, staring at Reo with that unreadable face he always had as a teenager.
"I hadn't heard of it."
Reo laughs a little, shy. "I'm trying to keep it low," he smiles. Nagi blinks, and Reo doesn't know if it's a trick of light, but Nagi's eyes seem to sparkle for a second. He decides to not dwell on it, deciding to start walking again when he realized he stopped on his track, too. He hears Nagi walking beside him again, so Reo continues to share in a small voice, "I teach in Hakuho."
A chuckle escaped from Nagi's lips, one that got Reo blinking in pleasant surprise. "Ah. That's why I heard some notable praises from their team." Reo tilts his head to the side in curiosity, so Nagi leans in closer to whisper to him, "Ego's still on his ‘unpolished gems’ grind, you know? Looking for some promising stars he would crush the confidence again."
Reo raises a hand to laugh behind his palm. Nagi does not laugh with him, but he's smiling while watching Reo does.
He sees it; Reo knows there's fondness in Nagi's face. He's not blind to not acknowledge that, but he's also not brave enough to let it get into the lock in his heart.
He breaks away from staring at Nagi by waving a dismissive hand between them, "Eh, the credit's not all mine. They have an official coach. I just drop by from time-to-time." They both didn't know their faces were pretty close if it's not of the cold air hitting Reo's face the moment Nagi pulled his face away to stare ahead, too. Reo should feel cold, but his cheeks feel warm.
"You're close to their coach?"
Reo's cheeks feel warmer when he sees Nagi's ears shyly peeking from the mess that is his hair. They're pink. He almost forgot to answer Nagi. "Somewhat…? Met him through a meeting when I was visiting Hakuho for their requested sponsorship. A funny guy."
"Is he good?"
"Sure, yeah," Reo nods. "Their team wouldn't interest me if they're not decent enough."
"Better than me?"
"Now that's just unfair," Reo gasps, but not without a laugh at the end of his words. "You can't just say that when you're an international standard!" He sees Nagi laughing, too—not the kind of big laugh. His shoulders are shaking, but his lips are not open. They're close to a perfect and homey smile that Reo never sees on television whenever Nagi is in interviews. It's a smile Reo knows that Nagi only reserves for his personal space.
Still driven by the joy of sharing a funny conversation, Reo gently bumps his arm against Nagi's. "You should visit Hakuho sometimes. They're talking about you like a thousand-old legend there. 'Nagi Seishiro, our oh-so-great alumnus!' Really," he teases.
Nagi returns the gesture, bumping his shoulder against Reo's. "What, like I'm dead?"
"Yeah."
They laughed again. The pleasant warmth of sharing smiles wrapped around the two as they carried on with their stroll. The fondness in Reo's heart grew, painting the memories of his youth with gray and white. They're dull, but they're also very present—like clouds always hovering over Reo's head.
"So, you still play."
Reo would like to say that he should regret opening the can of worms, but a part of him knows he does not. Especially when he knows that a little voice inside of him, the little Reo that wears his heart on his sleeve, is staring at Nagi with immense longing.
"You still haven't chosen a team," Reo replies instead.
Nagi's answer washes over Reo's heart.
"I am waiting for you."
It's both cold and warm, Reo realizes. It's so cold that Reo is immediately brought back to the reality of now. He's here, with Nagi, the boy of his youth, the pinnacle of his love. He's here with the person who brought such memorable dullness in his colorful memories, painting his springtime with snow and gray. And it's also warm, slowly slipping into the cracks in his heart that Reo thought had mended through time. As he wonders why he's hearing the voice of young Reo inside of him when he sees Nagi in Kunigami's apartment, he figures this is how. Through the little cracks that reopened when he saw Nagi, young Reo emerged from the depths of his heart.
Reo finds it ironic how they arrived at the park for this exact moment, as if telling them to revisit the promises they shared as teenagers before. As Reo sits on one of the swings, he finds out that the sudden flood of emotions made his knees weak. The swing shakes as he drops his weight on it, and the swing beside him does the same after.
I am waiting for you.
"I don't play anymore."
"You said you do."
"Not the way you do," Reo weakly replies. He's not brave enough to face the eyes that Reo knows are looking at him. So, he focuses his eyes on his shoes, failing to ignore the heavy gaze that seems to bore a hole in his skull. "I stopped playing regularly after that day. I know you know that, too."
That day. Ego had won. They won the World Cup. It's a crazy experience, reminiscent of their U-20 match. Nagi was a starter. Of course, he was. Reo was only able to join the match at the near end, but he did his job well. That day, they got the trophy they had been working so hard for. That day, Nagi and Reo were moving in a drifted space. There's a gap they didn't close, and Reo liked to think it's just the repercussions of growing up. Nagi had found new friends in the facility, so did Reo. Nagi had chosen others instead of Reo, and Reo learnt to choose others as well. They're moving in the same room, but in a different environment.
That day, during their victory, Reo locked eyes with Nagi. The space they had seemed to shrink in that moment.
Their eyes speak.
We won.
And they start drifting apart again—until both don't know each other's whereabouts anymore.
Reo figures he shouldn't be thinking of that day like it has been a whole decade. It's only been last year, but with how things went, it feels so long ago now.
Well, maybe he's lying. Reo does know some things about Nagi's whereabouts—from the articles and news reports he had seen in passing.
"A lot of teams want to scout you," Reo says, remembering an international team's love call to Nagi from an article he saw yesterday. "Isagi had already chosen to stay in Japan long ago. Why aren't you?"
"I am waiting for you."
"And I am telling you I'm not worth waiting for anymore."
"Who told you that?"
Younger Reo would have pettily answered, "You, when you left me behind." But, like time passed, so is his maturity. Reo won't say he understands everything in the world now, but he understands better—way better—so he settles with a logical reply, like what one would expect from an adult. "I live a different life now." He contemplates his next words, because depending on how Nagi will take it, the calm conversation can be stormy immediately. Reo knows they're both tiptoeing about something.
And if he's being honest, Reo wants to step on that and face the storm head on.
"I won the World Cup," Reo smiles. "I got what I wanted."
This time, Reo braves himself to watch Nagi's reaction. Nagi's fist tightens around the handle of the swing, but his face remains passive. When he remained silent, Reo took it upon himself to speak. He looks up to the sky, eyes narrowing as he tries to recall the moment of their victory. "When our eyes met during that brief moment," Reo remembers Nagi's eyes then—still the dull gray they are, but sparkling in immense joy that wouldn't be seen if it's not Reo looking at him. And Reo remembers, as it sinks to him that he won the World Cup, "I realized our soccer had ended."
And for the first time since they have met today, Nagi grits his teeth in what seemed to be a flash of anger.
"Your soccer has ended, Reo," Nagi's voice tips from whispering and trembling. The chains rattle slightly in his hold. The wind sweeps Nagi's hair, and it gives Reo a clearer view of his eyes.
Reo had always thought that Nagi's dullness is colorful on their own. The moment he saw him, Reo knew that Nagi is a gem, like a diamond that can easily reflect the colors of the world and own them for himself. It's the same right now—the grayness of his eyes reflect the vibrant hues of human emotions. It seems to sip at the corner of his eyes, an invisible slip of emotion pulled from the roots of Nagi's fascinating way of feeling.
It slips into his voice, too—the passiveness of his talking tinged with tremor, "Not mine—not—not ours."
"I could never reach you," Reo smiles sadly. The words left a small pinch in his chest but they weren't as bitter in his tongue. His years in Blue Lock allowed him to accept that, no matter how slow he was at embracing the fact. The drift between them had allowed Reo to admit some things to himself without blaming Nagi for the pain it brought him. "When we won the World Cup, I knew my time was done, and yours would continue without me chasing you."
Reo steps on a leaf, the sound of it breaking reminiscent of his young, fragile heart. His eyes settled on his shoe. He knows Nagi's looking at his own, too. They're both looking down, like there's a weight lying over their heads, not allowing them to look up and stare straight into each other's eyes or else they will crash. They stare at both things, but at different paths, but Reo knows Nagi is listening.
Nagi always does, Reo realized late.
"When I found you, I wanted you to be mine."
Reo didn't see Nagi flinching at the choice of his words—at the use of wanted, but he heard him whisper, "You don't want me anymore?"
"When I found you, I claimed you to be my treasure," Reo continues. He remembers how much he had spoiled Nagi, his first true acquaintance. He remembers how much he enjoyed being in Nagi's space, his first true friend. He remembers how much he had loved Nagi, his first love. "But you weren't ever meant to be mine," Reo sighs. The bittersweet memories of his youth flashes before him. "You are amazing, Nagi. You're… you, with all your mesmerizing you." If Reo closes his eyes, he could pretend that they're still the teenagers Nagi and Reo, promising to stay until the end, promising to win together, promising to be the strongest. "You were my treasure, my first…" love. But Reo can't close his eyes forever. He learned that the hard way. So, he opens his eyes, greets the reality that the closeness of their hearts during youth had long drifted apart. "You're meant for more, and I can't give you that..."
If they had been younger, Reo would have expected Nagi to say something about him not needing a lot, and younger Reo would have believed him.
But Reo isn't the only one who grew up.
"You know that now, right?" This time, Reo looks up to smile fondly at Nagi. He fights the urge to brush Nagi's hair away from his forehead. Instead, Reo enjoys his time watching his side profile. "The people that told you you're only lucky for your achievements, that you're a curse, that you're cheating in life because things seem easy for you…" Nagi slowly looks up until Reo can see his face again, wide-eyed and seemingly enthralled. Reo can't help but laugh softly at the look of his innocence. "You proved them wrong, Nagi. And you will continue to prove them wrong."
"Reo…"
"I always believed in your talent," Reo grins. He thinks he sees Nagi's eyes sparkling, but Reo can't be sure with how his own are starting to blur. "But I can't take you to the highest peak of what you can do."
"Is that your answer?" Nagi asks. He sounds scared. "When I asked you if you don't want me anymore, is that your answer?"
"You're Nagi Seishiro," Reo is amused. "I will always want you."
"But, you think you can't have me," it isn't a question, no. Nagi is now staring at Reo's eyes, and Reo thinks this is the most fragile he has ever seen him today. "Are these the consequences of what I did to you?"
It would have been easier to blame everything on Nagi. Reo was discarded like a candy wrapper before, and that hurt him deeply. He, who grew up getting everything, was abandoned—at least, that's what he thought of at the time. It was painful for his ego, for his pride, but more so for his heart. His upbringing revolved around value, after all. When Nagi chose him over someone else, Reo had no choice but to think that he mattered less—or nothing at all. It was a punch in the face. Reo remembered wishing that maybe it was better done literally and not figuratively because the slump he had to go through after that was certainly not something fond to remember.
"You were an ass about it," Reo admits, though. Nagi chuckles awkwardly, perhaps ready to say that he's not just an ass, he was a total asshole about it. But Reo beats him to it, speaking with a carefree tone while slightly moving his swing to and fro, "But I was at fault, too—for pushing my ideals and dreams onto you." Suddenly, Reo halts his swing before turning to Nagi with a curious look, "Were you ever mad about it? Not the part where you said I was a pain in the ass—I think it's clear your feelings weren't pleasant for me that time."
"I don't think I was ever mad at you," Nagi shakes his head. "Or if I can get mad at you, really…"
Reo hums, not telling Nagi that he's mindlessly playing with Reo's hair now. His fingers fiddle on Reo's bangs while his eyes are clouded with memories of his own. Nagi is definitely in a trance, so Reo lets him be, so Nagi can open up comfortably. "But I guess… I guess I was hurt."
And like waking up in a trance, Nagi's eyes suddenly look clear. He looks awake, very much present here with Reo, very much aware when he cups Reo's cheek as he admits, "When you cut off ties with me after winning the World Cup, I asked myself, 'is this just what I am to Reo's life?'"
You're not.
"I'm sorry," Reo apologizes. For forcing you my dreams. For thinking that you're just an instrument for the World Cup. For holding you back. For finding you first when someone better could have found you. For not just sticking to the selfish plan and falling in love with you. He does not say all of this, but Reo does not need to spell them out, he thinks. Nagi’s eyes tell him he knows. But just for good measure, because Reo feels like his apology isn’t enough, he sighs, voice slightly breaking, “I’m sorry… for everything.”
Despite growing up and realizing things, Reo still finds himself wanting to apologize for everything. A part of him wished he didn’t cherish Nagi that much—maybe their friendship could have been saved, but a louder voice inside him tells him that their foundation is messed up right from the start. Reo thought he was saving Nagi. Nagi may have thought that Reo was saving him, too. They were just boys who didn’t know the meaning of life. They’re too young to realize that they weren’t each other’s saviors. But it was a time where Reo was happy. Being on Nagi’s side is a dream he put on a high pedestal. Even though he told himself that it was for the World Cup, Reo knew that it’s more of winning alongside Nagi and less of getting the trophy.
And chasing Nagi, when he keeps on getting further and further away, was tiring.
It doesn’t help that Nagi is his first true friend, too.
It doesn’t matter if Nagi thought of him less. Reo knew that Nagi was his first ever true friend. He found support in Nagi that he never got from anyone else, so when Nagi left, Reo didn’t know where to go.
He was stuck in that thought before, but growing up, Reo had learnt to understand. Slowly, but he did, eventually.
“I… met someone. He reminds me of you.”
Nagi’s hand freezes from where it's tucking a hair behind Reo’s ear. There’s a silent question from Nagi’s eyes that Reo immediately clears up. “We’re not together yet.”
“...yet,” Nagi breathes out.
“Dad hadn’t approached me about the prospect of an engagement yet, but with how much I’ve seen him talking to that family…” Reo carefully explains. He awkwardly laughs, “I don’t even think we’re friends at this point. Acquaintances at most, probably. Only ever spoke to him once or twice during galas.” Nagi reaches out to play with Reo’s hair again. More expressive this time, too, as if he’s channeling out a frustration within himself. Reo does not notice this. He just continues to share, “He’s… really bad at communicating.”
“And he reminds you of me?”
Reo does not answer Nagi’s teasing smile. He just shrugged with a small laugh, “I think it helped. I had a decent conversation with him.”
“What did?”
“That I somewhat… understood why you did what you did,” Reo replies. He thinks back at how much information he heard about that heir, too. They said he’s truly bad at communicating, that it’s impossible to hold a conversation with him. On hearing that, Reo can’t help but get reminded of Nagi. In retrospect, his first conversation with Nagi felt more like him killing Nagi’s ears off. He should have listened more to Nagi’s thoughts, he realized. Maybe they weren’t as much of a disaster as they are if they… learnt to listen and speak.
Nagi’s hand slips from holding Reo’s cheek. “I’m sorry, too…” he says, making Reo surprised. Never in Reo’s life did he think that he would get an apology from Nagi of all people.
He can’t take the heavy gaze of Nagi’s eyes, so he looks down at the pebbles beneath their shoes.
“Everything I did before… I always thought of you at the end of it.” Nagi is opening up to Reo. He’s really here, speaking about his mind. Reo does not want to make Nagi feel that he’s not listening, but he also can’t bear to look at him right now—not when Reo has an inkling that most of his questions will be answered at this moment. Perhaps, Reo should be relieved that Nagi is finally telling him his feelings, but before all this, Reo lived in the years of their drifted oceans. Reo had slowly sailed away from the waves of Nagi’s space. Reo had learnt to ride the waves of his own, and dive into the seam of his own expanse. This, Nagi’s gigantic ripples of vehemence, throws Reo off his boat. The tide is changing, and Reo thinks he can’t stare straight through the deluge of sentiments in Nagi’s eyes or else he'll sink.
So, Reo settles by reaching out to softly hold Nagi’s hand—because the surge is overwhelming, and Reo needs an anchor to hold on to.
(They both do. Nagi turns over his palm so they can intertwine their hands together, because god knows they both do.)
“I wanted to offer the trophy to your feet,” Nagi says. Reo doesn’t know what he’s remembering, but Nagi suddenly sounds so happy as he playfully squeezes Reo’s hand. “It is my dream, and you gave me that dream when I didn’t have anything that would keep me going in my life.” And then, despite not seeing his face, Reo feels the fragility of when Nagi breaks. His breath is shaky, and his words are almost whispered in the passing wind. “I got that dream… but I lost you along the way.”
It’s one thing with Reo admitting it to himself. It’s another thing hearing it from Nagi.
Reo looks up—not to face Nagi. He actually avoided his gaze so he could quickly dab at the tears threatening to leave the corner of his eyes. Just when Reo thinks he can stop himself from crying, he feels tears that are not his dropping on his hand—the one that Nagi is holding—and then Reo’s throat is locking up all over again.
Nagi’s voice is ebbing away from the nonchalance he usually has. “I lost you, didn’t I…?”
Younger Reo would have said no.
But those drifted spaces would not exist if they didn’t lose each other.
Reo nods, small. Almost unnoticeable. But he did.
Nagi rubs the dropped tear off Reo’s hand with his thumb. “I thought you understood me—my actions. I wished I could have made you understand… so you’ll know I love you.” Reo shuts his eyes closed, feeling Nagi’s lips pressing against his knuckles. “And I’ll always come back to you—wait for you.” Reo’s heart is loudly thumping against his chest, almost as if it's threatening to come out. But he’s deaf at the thundering singing of his heart when all Reo could hear is the whisper of Nagi’s words against his skin, “Anything for you.”
Reo wishes the same. In another life, maybe if they learnt to properly communicate, maybe they could be better.
However, “I think I’ve always known…”
Nagi’s voice is barely heard between the rustling of leaves, “What is…?”
“That you, kind of… loved me,” Reo admits. That one—that was way harder to realize. Before, Reo had been wallowing himself to the thought of not being enough for Nagi that the idea of Nagi genuinely loving him is preposterous. Reo had never experienced love in that sense, and he doesn’t know what it does. Love being painful, that he knows, he’s familiar with. His parent’s love for him taught him that—that even if they love him as their son, they could still hurt him. But the hurt that Reo had felt when Nagi left him cut so deep that all Reo could think is that it’s just him loving too much. It’s just him feeling this way. It’s just him hurting, because he’s just the one in love with Nagi.
It was only after they had drifted apart that Reo realized.
“Speaking is far from your best suit,” Reo smiles. Nagi could be anything he wanted but a good communicator. “You… could’ve told me that you’re doing everything you do because you love me, but you didn’t.” He didn’t. “Because you couldn’t—not when you’re just as lost as me.” Nagi was alone before he met Reo. He had no one to understand these feelings with. His words came out as they did, and they’re blunt, tactless, an absolute mess, and they hurt, but it’s how a young Nagi does.
“That’s how the young Nagi Seishiro loved…”
“That’s what I did…”
And Reo, with a heart that went through heartbreaks after heartbreaks, admits to himself, “And I didn’t deserve that…”
No one knows when did their hands separate, or when did they start looking at each other’s eyes, but Reo is staring directly at Nagi’s eyes now and he’s holding his own hand to anchor himself. Nagi’s tears do not fall. They stay at the corner of his eyes, clinging to him despite the immense sadness that bleeds through his voice, “No, you don’t…”
“And you didn’t deserve what I did to you, too,” this time, Reo makes sure that Nagi is hearing him clearly. The pure devastation in Nagi’s face is hard to look at, but Reo needs to make sure that Nagi understands this because god he knows Nagi needed this closure for himself. “I could have told you I loved you, but I didn’t.”
Ah, his eyes are warm. Reo thinks Nagi is dabbing at his eyes now, but he can’t be sure.
“Reo, you don’t love me anymore?”
His vision is so obscured with tears that Reo had to close his eyes so he can finally let the tears fall. He breathes in and out, before a mocking laugh leaves his lips—not for Nagi, no. When he opens his eyes, a sob comes out of his throat because Nagi—god, Nagi is crying, and he looks so defeated, and heartbroken, and Reo only wants victory for him. Not this. Not whatever feeling that Nagi is currently experiencing, but Reo knows they both needed this. This was long overdue. The drifted space of fake solace had come to an end. They’re now meeting in the middle, with all the waves of concealed emotions sweeping them off their feet.
“It’s impossible to not love you, Nagi.” Reo feels something like regret, mourning about something that could have been. “I wish I understood us sooner… maybe we could have…” worked out, is left unspoken.
“I love you,” Nagi’s words poured out. The fountain of his raw affection and love streamed out, unfiltered and messy and true, “I never stopped. I love you, Reo. So much, so fucking bad.” He gasped, taking a deep breath before a sob escaped from his lips. “I fucked up so bad… didn’t I?”
Reo stands to hug Nagi. Their shoulders are trembling, and Reo can’t even control his own fucking breath, but he speaks nothing but honesty in his breaking voice because that’s what Nagi deserves.
“I love you, Nagi. I do,” Reo confessed. He pulls away to cup Nagi’s jaw and stare right through his eyes, “And the Nagi I knew loved me.” The Nagi that he understood too late. The Nagi that I thought couldn’t love me. “But, you… the you right now…”
Reo thinks back to their first meeting—to when he thought he knew Nagi, to when he thought that he understood Nagi, to when he thought he can dive in head first just because he could.
Reo does not want to make the same mistake again. It cost him his most precious person, after all.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Reo smiles through his tears.
And even if Reo doesn’t know the Nagi right now, he’s grateful that he still got the remnants of the young boy Reo grew to love.
I can no longer say I know you like I do.
Nagi nods through his tears, too, because he knows. He understands.
After so long, Nagi can finally stop waiting. Reo has his answer. He should have his.
And Reo knows this.
Reo steps backwards, away from Nagi’s personal space, from his embrace. They’re both a mess of disgusting snot and tears, like kids, and Reo feels young. He allows the young Reo in his heart to show his fondness to the person who colored his youth in vibrant dull—to the person he loves. He reaches to ruffle Nagi’s hair, and Reo’s heart swells in pride. He doesn’t sob anymore, but his voice still breaks, “I’m so proud of you, Nagi.”
It took time to arrange themselves with no words spoken between them. Nagi silently buys them a cup of coffee. Reo silently looks over the pathway back to Kunigami’s place. Nagi silently steps ahead, and Reo silently walks beside him.
It is when they’re outside of Kunigami’s apartment that Nagi spoke.
“Don’t invite me.”
“Hm?” Reo turns to see Nagi staring right through the door, obviously avoiding his gaze. But Nagi does clear it up, even if his voice is almost too small to hear.
“On your wedding day… don’t invite me, please.”
If Reo hadn’t talked to Nagi today, he would have been a hundred percent hurt. Sure, Nagi was his first heartbreak, but he was also his first friend. Reo would be elated to see his first ever friend on his special day.
But words were spoken, feelings were opened, and Reo understands.
“I won’t.”
Reo is glad that Chigiri hadn’t questioned their eyes. He was glad that no one did. And if anyone noticed that they weren’t ever talking all throughout the reunion, no one called them out for it, too.
It was until everyone left that Reo finds himself crying again with Kunigami and Chigiri comforting him. Reo thought he already had enough of shedding tears, but apparently not.
Fortunately, Chigiri has an answer for him, “It’s normal to be sad when something ends, right?”
“But we already ended the moment we won the World Cup, didn’t we…?”
Kunigami answers for him this time, “Only your soccer did, Reo. Whatever you and Nagi shared outside of that… that was left without closure until today.”
That night, Reo’s eyes were heavy as he crashed on Kunigami’s couch, but his chest is lighter when he dreams of Nagi. Reo dreams of their youth, of their happiness, of Nagi’s own way of loving him. Reo dreams of their imperfect love—and if fate allows them one more chance, once they’ve both healed from this, then maybe… maybe.
From: ngseishiro
hi.
it’s been a while. almost 2 years. i’m coming home to japan from england this month. hadn’t heard from you in a while. since we last talked, actually.
i want to see you, if it’s not obvious yet.
uh.
please don’t reply to me if you're already married, or engaged. or in a relationship.
i hope you’re happy.
i love you.
please don’t reply to me if you're already married, or engaged. or in a relationship.
please don’t reply to me if you're already married, or engaged. or in a relationship.
please don’t reply to me if you're already married, or engaged. or in a relationship.
Replied to: ngseishiro
I love you too.