Archive of Our Own

Surprisingly, stepping out into the world after almost four solid months of captivity didn’t feel monumental. The cold gusts of wind caressing Reo’s cheeks felt as they always had. They felt like the bristling cold autumns from the previous year and the ones before that, only pushing Reo to believe that perhaps it had all been the false narrative of a nightmare. That in reality, there was no such thing as the Blue Lock program, and that the last few months of anguish and yearning he had experienced were all part of one long, sickening daydream. 

Unfortunately, the feeling of the itchy mass-manufactured gloves resting along his palms didn’t help uphold that delusion. Because the dream was true, Reo had spent his sentence locked up in a forlorn facility with the promise of a shiny World Cup at the end, only to be dismissed partway through, instead gaining a one-way ticket back into his father’s grasp. 

A shiver eroded its way through him, leaving goosebumps in its wake at his reality. The change in seasons from when Reo first entered the wretched facility couldn’t have been more apparent. He remembers the season in which they arrived, brimming with blazing sunshine, the trees with splashes of forest green adorning every branch. He recalls how excited he was, and just how unimpressed Nagi was. 

Hmm, Nagi. 

Reo allowed the name to mull around in the crevices of his mind. It had been some time since he had last seen the other boy, considering they used to meet daily, the chronicles of high school, Reo mildly thinks. It makes him think of their earlier stages, back in Hakuho, and how it had been when they first met. 

The damning kick of fate.  

He remembers the newspaper clippings he had begun to diligently collect towards the beginning of their connection. How they conveyed their relationship in a variety of ways, all of which made them sound perfect for one another. How easily it must have been to believe those papers. How easily Reo found it to believe them. 

Where the only story painted ended with a shiny trophy in their grasp and confetti in their hair. 

Now, in the future that Reo never figured would come, where he’s made to face the fierce wind of fall alone after a failed attempt at his dream, Reo wonders if their collapse had always been visible to those who gazed upon their connection. Reo wonders if those girls always seeking a study session with him, saw the inevitable crash and burn that Nagi and Reo would have been.

They had to have, right? After all, it was always Reo dragging the other boy along. Whether it was to practice drills, for a rooftop lunch break, or even to the showers after a particularly grueling afternoon practice. It had always been him. Did everyone else looking in catch the unpreventable heartbreak destined for Reo just from the perpetually half-lidded eyes of the pale boy attached to his back? 

If only someone’s warning had actually laid some groundwork in his conscience before it was too late. Perhaps only then would he instead be anywhere else but here on this vacant street with the entirely wrong attire for the time of year. 

Some aspect of him scoffs at his victimization, since none of it is accurate. Reo could never have been saved, for he wouldn’t have allowed it. Reo wouldn’t have ever let Nagi slip from his fingertips, even if the contact scathed him. 

It’s difficult to identify an abnormality in something you’ve never had the opportunity to relish. This time, it was friendship, and maybe something more on Reo’s part.

In reality, it’s not difficult to realize his attachment to Nagi was likely a concept more similar to the fairytale of Cupid rather than that of a right-hand man. It's easier to see now that it no longer sits in the comfort of his hand. It doesn't make it sting any less, however. 

Love is deadly, Reo concludes, and a distant part of Reo wonders how long it’ll take to get rid of the sensation of loss for a person still very much alive. Another part of him wonders if it’ll take a lifetime.

The weeks after his return, it seemed Reo had come back to himself. He had reintegrated himself in the busy hallways during lunch, stopped lingering at the rooftop patio, and appeared not to have at all disappeared for the last four months. The only anomaly to his return was his resignation from his coaching position, but not many seemed to focus on that; they were only glad the prince of Hakuho had returned to light up their halls once again. 

He did his school work, stayed late after school for student council duties, and answered the questions from others regarding where he had gone, with a smile and a brief, 

 “It was nothing much, I just had some family business up north.” 

Reo had seamlessly returned to Hakuho High, almost as if Blue Lock never happened, which, to all of Hakuho High, didn’t. 

It was as if the prestigious school had gotten their beautiful poster boy back, and that was partly true, after all, Mikage is nothing if not a front. 

Those classmates and self-appointed ‘friends’ weren't privy to just Reo . The Reo who’d begun to often catch himself mentally elsewhere, when his attention was required. The Reo who’d soon learn the magic of a little dot of concealer for his undereyes. The Reo who’d recently taken up the habit of begging. 

It’s almost alien, since before, Reo hadn’t ever had to lift a finger had he wanted something. Everything he’d needed and even slightly been interested in had been set at his feet without so much as a please . So the idea of the ever-so prestigious Reo kneeling almost nightly along his bed frame, hands clasped in one another, practically shaking from his pleading, just to ask for the resurfacing of a long-lost dream, was abnormal. 

Most often, it’d lie solely in a prayer for a miracle to happen. For someone, somewhere, to awaken and realise the soccer jewel that Reo Mikage was. He wished they’d give him another chance to show the world that he could truly be one in a million. That his performance in the broadcasted scenes of Blue Lock had just been a reminder of his rough edges, but underneath, he could shine like the diamond he was. 

Other nights, he’d stray. Reo would blame the lack of sleep for his desperation, but even he knew that was a farce. The appearance of Nagi in his ritual wasn’t so different from his appearance in Reo’s dreams. The melancholic tinge always hanging onto the edge of his nightly visions whenever Nagi was involved never ceased, but Reo couldn’t help but enjoy them nonetheless. And so, he’d plead, to wake up from it all. That these nightly sessions, only rewarding him with throbbing knees the morning after, were fiction. That in reality, one morning, instead of being met with the telltale sign of his alarm blaring and welcoming another drudging day, he’d be met with the sensation of hair blending in with his. 

That instead of being lulled into a cold and spacious bed, it’d be a stiffer, thinner mattress, but accompanied by twice the warmth. 

The thing is, he hadn’t seemed to find the correct keywords to make it happen. And the strain of a continuation of rejection always failed to divert the sensation of misery in the day to come. 

And some days, he’d awaken with the sole sensation of dread. An idea lodged in his head, convincing him that perhaps instead of begging for better days, he should beg for closure. 

To have the strength to accept its finality, and the rigidity to begin anew.

The next time Reo meets a soccer ball following Blue Lock, was nearly three months later, with the sole purpose of returning it to a group of children.

He had intentionally strayed away from the object following his expulsion from the program, his hands trembling at the mere thought of feeling those familiar hexagonal ridges brush against his fingers. 

The fear was enough to keep him out of his previous position as Hakuho’s soccer team captain, for what good was a captain who struggled with even holding the ball?

This time around, feeling the initial impact of the ball against his heels, he stared for a moment. Piecing together the importance of the moment, his mind scouring all the different possibilities, never once landing on the simple one of a child’s mistake. 

Only after hearing the call out from the boy behind the failed pass was Reo able to finally gather himself. To convince himself that the ball against his ankle didn't garner a deeper meaning, that it meant nothing more than a simple accident, a fluke. That this had nothing to do with him at all. 

Thus, albeit not without a struggle, Reo remained as steady as he could bring himself to be in his rescuing of the ball. Only a weak tremor had seemed to awaken along his thumb when he turned to toss the ball to its rightful place at the boy’s foot. 

In response, the boy easily trapped it, and Reo swore he had to concentrate his entire being on not imagining someone else in the boy’s shoes. 

Someone with brighter hair and a dopier stance. 

Instinctively or perhaps to overcompensate for his struggle, Reo flashed a grin from behind his bulky scarf, hoping it was enough to disguise the grimace that followed soon after. 

Not waiting for the boy’s gratuity, Reo dug himself even further into his scarf and turned away, heading back towards his original destination along the lake. 

During this time of year, it's easy to see the beginnings of ice forming along the lake’s edge. In a few weeks, it will most likely become a popular skating location. If it were another timeline, perhaps Reo would be one of those taking advantage of the cold, after all, it was one of his favorite seasons.

Most found the biting chill anything but lovely. Reo couldn’t ever find himself thinking like that. 

While he wasn’t immune to the downright near frostbite lingering at the tips of his fingers, he had never let that take away from the beauty of winter. With crystalline structures dangling from lone branches, gusts that shift your coat awry, and the beautiful blank canvas of snow, Reo couldn’t help but find it breathtaking. 

While the repainting of green grass into pale fluff hadn't begun to take place yet, Reo still found enjoyment in the crunch of frost beneath his shoes. 

Continuing on his path through the fairly secluded section of the neighboring park, Reo came across a vacant swinging bench. As he sat, he cringed at the metal squawk it made. The perforated wet wood underneath him also didn’t help, only serving to induce a full-body shiver from him. 

But something about the less-than-avid seating only made the dynamic of the morning richer. 

For in reality, he wasn’t meant to be here. He didn’t have any reason to subject himself to the bitter chill forming a home beneath his coat. 

He was meant to be home. More specifically, participating in a calm and complacent discussion with his father. He was supposed to be agreeing to study business in college in the coming year. 

Like the perfect heir he was always meant to be, since after all, he’d failed to take advantage of his father’s benevolence for his childish dreams. 

Reo let out a shaky breath, raising his eyes to follow the cloud of vapor stretching out in front of him before quickly vanishing, leaving him alone once more. 

The morning chill was worsening, and if Reo remained on this rickety bench any longer, he’s sure it wouldn’t take long for his nose to feel it. But even with the threat, it felt as if he was stationed forcefully, like something had trapped him. 

Whether it was the grating sound of the rusty chains swaying with every push Reo gave the swing or the pleasant view of a splashing fountain off in the distance, Reo wasn’t sure. 

Perhaps it was simply him running, gambling his time left as the somewhat free version of himself. 

It was all-consuming. Every bit of it. He felt like he was being pulled in all different directions, never being able to get it right. 

His father. His dream. Nagi. He was so tired of it all. 

The constant reminder that his imperfection was simply the lack of effort. The idea that perfection was possible, but the route to it navigated dead ends, filled with roots Reo wasn’t sure how to escape from. 

It was never-ending. 

However, through all the sprouting reminders of insufficiency, a small, innocent memory stemmed from Reo’s thoughts, perhaps only serving to remind Reo once more of his failure, of what he couldn’t keep. 

He remembered the first time he’d invited Nagi over to his floor. The way the older boy let his eyes glaze over his room, as if taking a visual screenshot of it all. How they had played rock-paper-scissors on who would pick a movie to watch. Nagi’s monotone ‘ yay’ when he eventually won. His expression of subtle contentment as they lay there watching his favorite movie. 

‘Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind’, his mind provided. As if Reo could ever forget. 

And the most important part, the way Nagi turned to Reo once the final credits began, 

“Reo, would you ever do that?” 

“Do what?” 

“Forget all about someone you love, just ‘cuz they broke your heart.” 

He remembered actually taking the time to think of his answer, as if it all wasn’t fictitious. 

“…Maybe, if they hurt me really badly.” 

“Hmm.” 

“Would you?” 

“…Nah, too much of a hassle.”

“Of course you’d say that!” 

The response was so him. 

It was so him, it hurt even in memory. 

And in the moment, Reo hadn’t thought much of his response, and with nothing else to say, the conversation quickly dissolved, another topic sheathing itself between them. 

However, now, it makes Reo wonder if that’s really what Nagi would’ve done. If Nagi were in his position, on this cold and wet winter morning, sitting alone on this creaky bench swing, Reo wonders if Nagi would have changed his mind. Would Nagi Seishiro also have had the urge to forget Mikage Reo entirely, just as Reo feels the urge to erase Nagi now?

The next time Reo heard about what had happened to the Blue Lock contestants, it was January. 

The dull, fleeting thought of new year, same old me, accompanied the sudden heartache when he had stopped to listen in. 

He was, at the time, sitting in a fairly empty diner waiting for a potential business partner to arrive. It had been a few months since he had finally given in to his father's whims, agreeing to enroll in university and pursue a business degree, just as he was always meant to do. 

Reo didn’t want it at all, but he’d come around, right?

Ever since, his father had begun setting Reo up with future business partners, in order to ‘ get him involved in his life’s work.’ 

Reo despised it. He hated meeting these stuck-up heirs, who all seemed to think Reo was the same as them. That Reo wanted this just like they did. 

Just last week, he had met with a young girl around his age, who wouldn’t stop going on and on about how he was amazing and the Mikage Reo and blah blah blah. It made him want to slam his head against the table repeatedly. 

It seemed almost uncanny how all the people he’d met these past weeks appeared the same. With so many identities to choose from, how can there be such scarcity in the ones chosen?

Regardless of his past conversation with his father, somewhere in Reo’s heart, he still held out hope that maybe something would miraculously happen and make his father realize that handing off his multi-million dollar business to his recently heartbroken son wasn’t exactly the best idea. 

Reo’s rational side knew that his father wouldn’t give a rat’s ass that he was still recovering from a childish one-sided crush on his ex-best friend, but something minuscule within him liked to believe his father cared for him to an extent. 

But then again, his father’s exact perspective of their connection had always been unintelligible. It’d be wasteful for Reo to pull at straws that might not even exist, so most of the time, Reo simply shrugged it off. 

The soft but prominent sound of raging winds just outside the diner’s windows made a small part of Reo grateful for the establishment. This year, Tokyo had been hit with a particularly harsh cold front, and while Reo liked the chilly weather, the purpose of the meetings only served to form a sensation of irritation for the day. 

“Woah, the Seishiro kid got third? I could have sworn he would have made it to number one.” 

Partly startled by the sudden outburst, Reo turned towards the voice. He and the owner of the shop were the only ones in at the moment, making it easy to decipher where it’d come from.

Seishiro?

Recovering from the brief daze, Reo returned his gaze upwards and away from the window he was previously burning holes into. Looking upwards, he was met with the diner’s owner, his eyes still persistently locked onto the small TV toward the far end of the local. 

Reo trailed his gaze towards the screen, and there he was.

Nagi. 

It was hard to see the boy closely, with the monitor being entirely too small, but even that couldn't prevent Reo from recognizing him.  

He was just so damn identifiable, that or maybe Reo had spent far too much of his time admiring the boy. 

He looked as he always had. Maybe with some added under-eye circle, but still as boyish as ever. His hair had seemed to grow a little, the bangs in his face now reaching down to brush along his cupid's bow. 

The channel was switched to a press conference-type interview, including all the finalists for Blue Lock. Besides Nagi, there were also Chigiri and Kunigami, offering small smiles to the crowd presumably behind the cameras, along with a few sporadic waves. 

Their expressions painted the very definition of relief. Well, to be fair, surviving such a trial would likely make even the most apathetic breathe a sigh of relief. 

Circling back to the albino, Reo was not surprised to see his behavior hadn’t changed either. His eyes drooped as the interview progressed, and his voice carried that permanent sleepy tone when he was asked a question. 

It made Reo’s heart stumble. Reo had assumed, but seeing just how unaffected his supposed treasure was by his absence didn’t do much for Reo’s already deteriorating state.

When Nagi opened his mouth once more to answer another interviewer’s question, Reo was startled by a hand on his shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mikage?”

Reo quickly turned his head, eyes meeting the boy now standing in front of him. He was adorned with a relaxed streetwear fashion, not at all what Reo was accustomed to when it came to these meetings. Reo shook off his surprise and, with a casual smile, held out his hand, initiating a greeting with the other boy. 

“Yukimiya?” 

The other boy nodded, meeting Reo’s extended palm with his own in a gentle handshake. “Nice to meet you, your father told me about you.” 

Reo strained his smile further at the mention of his father, “Excuse my surprise. Nice to meet you as well, you can call me Reo.” 

“Oh, call me Yukki then!” He replied, a large smile spreading along his lips as he shook Reo’s hand a little more vigorously. 

The action was out of the ordinary; typically, the ones Reo met on these outings were all business, no play. The change was sort of refreshing. 

“...Sure, Yukki. And I apologize, I know you just arrived, but can we get out of here? It’s getting kind of stuffy.”

It was a complete lie; the temperature inside was almost perfect when compared to the storming weather outdoors. Reo just wasn’t sure he could sit through this meeting with the constant backdrop of Nagi’s familiar tone. He could already begin to feel goosebumps traveling along his arms at the short exposure he’d been dealt with. 

Failing to catch his deceit, Yukki agreed, “For sure, lead the way.” 

Reo nodded, grateful the other boy hadn’t inquired more about his outrageous request, and headed towards the glass front door, prompting the bells above it to jingle when breached. 

With the cold breeze striking his already warmed-up cheeks, Reo only let out a shiver. He wasn’t sure where he was planning to lead this Yukki guy, but it sure as hell wasn’t back in that tiny diner. 

A small voice in his head reminded Reo that he was running. But another part of him simply didn’t care. He had cried enough these last few months to make up for the rest of his life, and he didn’t want to suddenly frighten his new conversation partner with foggy eyes in the middle of their talk.  

It’s a minute detail, but it bugs Reo, how with only a few months between them, Reo had begun to prefer the bite of winter over his once-treasured companion.

As quickly as winter came, with its withering trees and darkening skies, it went, and the season of spring quickly settled itself in its place, scattering delicate pink petals where winter had previously laid dry, brown leaves. 

And with the change, in turn, came the approaching season of final exams. Final exams were never a peaceful time, but even less so for Reo this time. Since this time, they were exponentially important, that is, if he wanted to fulfill his father’s demands. And so, consequently from the looming deadline above him, Reo’s nose became permanently fixed within his textbooks, attempting to soak in everything he could before his time was up. 

Specifically, his remaining months of freedom. 

Since, if everything goes to plan, following his high school graduation, when fall would inevitably swallow the city whole once again, Reo would be caught under his father’s control once again. 

He’d move to Tokyo, get a small apartment a short walking distance from the university, and in a few year's time reemerge with a business degree and as the brand new owner of Mikage Corporation.

Freshly graduated and still reveling in the past, no doubt. 

Even the thought brought a slump to Reo’s usually perfect posture, counterintuitively pressing his cheek against his textbook page. 

Since his seemingly possessed studying state, Reo had offhandedly realized something. 

It had been a while since he had last cried, surprisingly enough. Thankfully so, however, Reo wasn’t sure how many more drops his textbooks could take before beginning to shrivel in on themselves. 

He had always been in tune with his emotions, not unfamiliar with shedding a tear every once in a while when the overwhelmingness of life got him down. 

Yet, recently, it seemed as though his tear ducts had miraculously dried up. 

Before, the mere thought of snow-white hair mixed in with dark, looming irises would elicit the beginnings of a tear-fest. That is, before ending in a screaming match silenced by his pillow. 

But the past few months had surprisingly been better. 

Reo had thrown himself more heavily into school and began to busy himself with attending his father’s meetings and also attempting to begin once again with a new friend. 

Turns out the Yukki guy wasn’t as weird as Reo originally thought.

With his unusual, less-than-business-casual first appearance, he definitely seemed a little bit off. However, over the last few months, he’d gotten the privilege to know his new acquaintance, whom he may or may not have previously figured would turn out to be another snobby rich kid looking for a chance to be something more with the Reo Mikage.

Turns out Yukki was more like Reo than he thought. 

With semi-controlling parents, Reo would say Yukki and he were practically twins, both having grown up with unrealistic expectations of them and having their dreams shot down by default. 

As Yukki later revealed, his last desire would be to continue his life as a business major. Instead, similarly to Reo, he had a secret interest in the world of football. 

“What? You wanna be a football player?” 

“Is that so surprising?” Yukki pouted.  

“Sorry,” Reo laughed, “I just didn’t think someone like you would ever want to play football like that.” 

“What does that mean, Reo?” Yuki had pitifully whined. 

Reo chuckles to himself, remembering their first conversation. Instead of that compact diner for their first meeting, Reo had found them a more ample library to sit in. Later being practically forced to leave from the amount of dirty glances the staff members sent their way in response to their obscene giggling. 

To say the least, having the other boy around had prevented Reo from completely losing his mind. He helped tremendously in keeping Reo afloat from the ideas pooling in his head. He still felt the tugs on his heartstrings from sudden memories surrounding the object of his affections that tended to resurface randomly, but having the older boy there to ground him after a particularly painful vision never failed to bring a smile to his face. 

“You know what, Yukki? I’m glad I met you.” 

“The ever-so-amazing Reo, telling me he’s glad to have met me? I’m dreaming, aren't I?” 

Reo smiled. Yeah, he was glad. 

It seemed misfortune followed Reo everywhere, for it only took a few months into his freshman year at university to be reminded of a certain someone’s glowing future. 

Reo had been huddled up in a corner of the library, cramming for an exam in one of his classes. 

He loved this particular library. There were multiple on campus, but Reo had always preferred this location for its frequent silence. It also helped that it was the nearest to town. A short walk and Reo would reach the small locals set up wall to wall on the square. Notably, among the vast expanse of crowds, towards the edge of the centre, was the dreamiest coffee shop Reo had ever set his eyes on. He couldn’t count the number of times he had slipped off campus following an especially exhausting class to enjoy some freshly baked goods with a side of piping hot cocoa. 

And in a dream world, that's exactly where Reo would be at this time. Unfortunately, a rather pending exam ruined his plan of a cutesy lunch date with himself today.

And so, Reo found himself chained to his chair this evening. His noise-canceling headphones equipped with calming background tunes in an effort to actually come out of this with a more than mediocre understanding of stoichiometry. 

“Dude, it was sick!” 

Reo inwardly groaned. 

Well, they’re mostly ‘noise-canceling.’ 

“Agreed, only thing that sucks is his team, don’t know why he’d choose such a shitty one.” 

“Yeah, but I heard he’s switching once his contract ends this year, something about looking for someone.” 

“Really? I wonder what’s got that genius hung up. It’s crazy that he’d switch out just for them.” 

Genius. 

Reo turns and scowls silently at the two boys animatedly conversing about their supposed genius. If they could be heard even through his Mikage headphones, that means they were way too loud, especially for a library. 

Unfortunately for Reo, his silent displeasure doesn’t quite pierce the boy’s enthusiasm as they continue talking loudly. 

“But man, look at this play. It’s so much better than his bicycle kick from today.” 

Along with his statement, the boy turns his phone to show his friend, and with terrible timing, Reo glances at the screen, to be met with an unmistakable ivory shade. 

Of course, it’s him. 

Reo should have known. Once the words ‘genius’ escaped the other boy's mouth, he should have known it was about Nagi.

“He's so good, no wonder everyone’s calling him Japan’s Treasure!” 

Japan’s treasure? 

The nickname left a bitter taste in Reo’s mouth. Reo figured the nickname had simply been shifted onto Nagi’s back following the downfall of the previous so-called ‘Jewel of Japan. ’

Additionally, Reo could only assume it likely stemmed from his childish nickname for the boy. Since Blue Lock didn’t end up as a failed program and was actually pretty successful, it was only expected that the catchy name would stick. 

Still, it was a bit disappointing. It had been almost a year since he had left Blue Lock and his love behind, and he still felt envy at the fact that the whole of Japan had presumably stolen his nickname. 

The name was only meant for him to use. 

Reo felt a small frown make its home along his lips because, in reality, he knew it wasn’t anymore.

It seemed that, regardless of how much time had passed, Reo just couldn’t let these threads of connection for the boy snap. 

It was frustrating, to say the least. Here Reo was, still caring about some guy that he didn’t even really know anymore, and where was Nagi? As carefree as ever in the news, chasing after his new dream with a new best friend in tow. 

The truth provoked a sigh from him. 

He looked down at the table in front of him, overflowing with notes adorned with doodles at the edges and the pens responsible for them equally littering the tabletop. 

It's probably time he got out of here, maybe he’d go try and study in his lulling coffee shop. How unlikely was it to fix his sour mood? Very, but it had a greater chance than here. 

Following a puff of air, Reo began gathering his belongings. 

It had been nearly a year since he had last seen the other boy, but in the way he haunted his every move, Reo wondered if he had never really left him at all. 

Reo felt the beginnings of sweat forming beneath his explosion of a scarf. With the season of winter on the cusp of its end, it’s only natural that the temperature would become a bit uneasy. The foggy, crisp mornings slowly evolving into a more breezy afternoon filled with rays was, to be frank, a little tiresome. 

On a lighter note, however, it signaled the end of his freshman semester. And along with the end, it also meant one very important thing: Midterm scores were being released. 

Thankfully, Reo wasn’t too worried about them. He felt his incessant studying mixed in with his inordinate anxiety regarding his first large-scale testing since beginning university had prepared him sufficiently for the onslaught of questions coming his way. 

Moreover, the actual experience wasn’t too shabby, further boosting Reo’s confidence over the results of his labor. 

The only negative sentiment he had regarding the situation was the lack of convenience. Instead of having his scores conveniently sent via his student email, he would have to make the trek back onto campus during their holiday break and, consequently, suffer the ever-changing weather.

Feeling an especially strong gust practically sift through his carefully constructed layers only added to his wrath for his school’s score publication manner. 

The area surrounding student services was his final destination. The addition of a large spreadsheet on the bulletin board, originally meant to hold meaningless announcements of upcoming events, was leaning into view now, motivating Reo. Just a few more paces. 

Scrunching his eyes to peer closer,  Reo was met with a small crowd adorning the immediate vicinity of the area. Reo managed to spot some creased eyebrows and hear some pleased sighs emanating from them. 

As he approached the board, he lingered off to the side of the group, squinting at the mass amount of names and scores along the columns of the sheet, attempting to locate a tiny mention of a Mikage Reo. 

Trying his best to tune out the few grunts and groans from other students clearly unappreciative of their results, he finally manages to spot it. Towards the top of the sheet, there he stood, his scores landing him a class rank in the top five. 

An unconscious grin formed on his lips. Considering his father would most likely accept nothing less than a valedictorian standing for his graduation, it’s good news that he could stand so far up the ranks so early on.

With his curiosity quenched and a small pleased hum following the thought of a rewarding cozy night in with steaming hot chocolate, Reo moved away from the growing group, beginning his short walk back to his apartment. 

“You going?”

For some reason, perhaps because of the boy’s light tone or the fact that they were the only ones not standing in complete silence, Reo redirected his eyes towards the pair gathered around a smaller, mundane announcement on the board. 

”Isn’t this school’s team considered one of the best?” The other boy responded, forgoing an answer. 

“I guess? To be honest, I don't care for football, so it’d be a bore for me anyway, but if you go, I’ll join you.”

The uncanny sensation that ran through Reo was doused with a sense of familiarity. As if Reo had once before lived in this boy’s shoes. Where his schooling didn’t simply consist of class, school work, exams, and dinner, but instead of actual things to look forward to. 

Where plans for an upcoming outing were something major and led to back-and-forth dialogue with friends . Well, for him, the plural form wasn’t regularly used anymore. 

It made him think of Yukki. He enrolled in a university not far from his, however, their outings these days were slim. Either he was slumped in homework or especially tired from a day of constant pressure, or it was the other way around, and Yukki was the one unavailable. 

Shifting his eyeline slightly to the left of the still chattering boys, Reo took sight of what they had been speaking about. 

It seemed to be just another regular banner. Lined with the bright colors delegated to their university and placed with the purpose of gathering attention. 

Within the trim was located a rather candid photo of a group dressed in typical sportswear celebrating after an assumed victory. 

Below them stood their purpose. 

“Soccer Season Begins!”

Further below, Reo assumed it specified their first match’s date and time, the letters being in a font size too minute to fully catch its data. 

Not that Reo would make the executive decision to shorten the distance and actually read it. Just seeing the theme was enough for his face to stiffen. 

This time around, Reo couldn’t find it in himself to automatically sport a look of distraught. The scowl that would normally paint his face in shades of frustration seemed nowhere to be found. 

More than that, a small part of him was even slightly surprised by the connection so impossibly on the nose. It seemed like the never-ending snow bunny of his past was tied to him as if it were its magician’s hat. 

In this case, however, the bunny had a mind of its own. It had arms and legs and was, in actuality, not a bunny at all. The only thing in common was its shade, devoid of color. 

It was unlike him, the sensation of indifference. Perhaps it’d come as a result of the past few months buried in textbooks. During that time, the majority of his days were spent immersed in the task of creating flashcards surrounding specific subjects he’d been having trouble with. And as a result, he hadn’t thought so much about unnecessary things. 

It’s weird to think that a prescription involving a change in scenery and a little time was, in the end, the most pivotal. 

With the realization came another gust of the remnants of winter, making Reo grip his scarf a little tighter. The cold was starting to beat down on him. The tingle of numbness was settling on his nose and fingers, and Reo couldn’t think of anything better than his apartment. 

Turning away, Reo can’t help but take a final glance at the poster. The boys in the image were unfamiliar to Reo, but still, a small part of him couldn’t help but be reminded of his days as a young and impressionable teen blindly working towards such a child-like dream. 

Reo can't help the grin that slips out at the memory. 

Stepping out of his final class and being met with the sight of melted chocolate, halfway unwrapped and presumably tossed unrequitedly in the nearest trash can available, Reo couldn’t help but crookedly grin. 

Coming back from midterms and being welcomed by the fast arrival of spring, painting sidewalks in a flush of pink from cherry blossoms was nice. Reo can’t deny it, spring was almost as amazing as winter. Almost .

But along with the revival of the branches and the refreshing breeze, another telltale sign of the season would definitely be the month of March. 

More specifically, White Day. 

Which is probably the reason behind the forsaken and gooey chocolate delicacy now painting the edge of the trash bin. 

Now, Reo wasn’t amused by the most likely rejected proposal that may have taken place earlier today; he wasn’t a malicious person after all, but rather he was amused at the first thought it evoked in him. 

It brought him back to the only time he had participated in the typicalities of the holiday. 

It’s easy to recall the sensation of melted chocolate dripping down his fingers as he tried his best not to sully the pure white hue of Hakuho’s uniform. It was even easier to remember the way Nagi just let it happen, how he let the first drop hit his slacks, shrugging it off without a care. 

The way Reo laughed at the mess of chocolate painting Nagi’s chin. 

Perhaps they should have waited until they had arrived back at Nagi dorm to enjoy the treat, after letting it cool back into a solid form. But, Reo swears he’s never indulged in a chocolate as sweet as that day. 

At the time, it hadn’t been purposeful. It’s not like Reo brought it with the idea of letting his feelings be known. Reo doesn’t even think he was aware of them at the time. 

No, it had just been a haphazard thought provoked by the appearance of a candy store on his way to Nagi’s that morning. Reo’s sure he wouldn’t have let it sit in his bag and melt had it been done fruitfully. 

It’s a small and easily forgettable memory, but it seems Reo couldn’t bring himself to dump this one over the years. 

And with the reemerges of it, comes the strange sensation of adoration. 

Typically, a sense of detachment had begun to linger when a reminder of Nagi emerged, but, strangely enough, these days, Reo couldn’t bring himself to outright contaminate his memories with Nagi with strands of unrequited love and past irritation. 

It almost seemed like a part of him wanted to protect the memory. To leave it covered in a sticky and sugary confectionary haze instead of a faded crimson of rage. 

The mundane details he’d see through his days, somehow uprooting Reo’s thinking and drawing it back to the most obscure adventure he’d had with the boy so long ago, only managed to leave him chuckling at the atrocity that was Nagi Seishiro. 

The impossibly lazy creature that he’d stumbled upon all that time ago. 

But even with the newfound smiles, a sensation of bittersweetness still managed to linger. 

Somehow, though, Reo didn’t mind it all that much. Healing isn’t linear, and while the hurt may resemble a step back en route, Reo knows it’s not. 

America loves fireworks is something Reo very quickly gathers from the comfort of his luxury hotel suite. 

Well, at least New York City does. 

The year is nearing its end, and instead of resting at home, Reo’s celebrating abroad. Well, not entirely. His head still feels in the clouds from an entirely too long flight, courtesy of his father jumping at a sudden, ill-timed business opportunity, to be in a celebratory mood. 

The switch in routine only pushes Reo to further grieve his original plans for the night. Regardless of how beautiful the street lamps and shop lights look from way up high, Reo finds he would still have chosen Yukki’s apartment over this. His hotel room was nice, but lazing around with the other boy was something Reo had come to find otherworldly satisfying. 

Nonetheless, oftentimes life has different plans, and Reo couldn't complain much since it’s likely to happen far more often as he begins his future as CEO. Additionally, Reo had always liked the city, and New York City would never be a disappointment in his book. 

Furthermore, the view would also help him ignore the piles of clothing flowing from his open suitcases along the tile floor. They could be dealt with later, was what Reo had told himself. Instead, he paid his full attention to the soft and comfy bed, practically calling his name. Sue him. For an almost thirteen-hour flight, Reo’s glad he could even check into his room before collapsing. 

Unfortunately for him, the rest of the city wasn't exactly in agreement with his idea of an early night. For the ‘city that never sleeps’, Reo wasn’t surprised they took that nickname even more gravely on New Year’s Eve. It began as mere chants down below on the street corners, suddenly ceasing as the first pop took their breaths. It was the first firework of the night. 

A beautiful purple glow. It filled the lack of color in Reo’s dark room, blooming a rich plum shade along the walls of the otherwise barren hotel room. 

It was striking, so much so that despite his growing headache, Reo couldn't help the smile that bloomed on his lips. 

And as soon as the first wave came, the second and the third soon followed. They filled Reo’s view, nearly blinding him with just how close they seemed to be. 

The constant sharp sounds of them soaring upwards and their final explosions following soon after weren’t as disruptive as Reo thought they’d be. Instead, they seemed to ground him. They helped ease the nerves he had about the other aspects of his life. His laid-out presentation for the following day, his upcoming finals, and along with those, his rapidly approaching graduation. Had his father’s constant pressures ceased a little, perhaps the event would still be further out for Reo, however, his father is nothing if not persistent. 

The relinquishment meant that in around a year, his small, cozy college apartment would no longer be a place he could call home. His adulthood was swiftly catching up with him, and Reo wouldn’t be able to evade it for much longer. 

The whole situation seemed unreal to him. When he allowed himself to sift through memories and reminisce about his most recent one, it was hard to believe that it wasn't the sprained ankle he was dealt with in the first few months of forming the soccer club at Hakuho High. 

Similar to how it’s even harder to believe that it had been years since his Blue Lock participation. That it had been years since he had last seen those blinding, blank, pale walls, resembling those of a mental facility more than a training camp. That it had been years since he last spoke to his very first friend. 

He languidly raised his eyebrows in surprise. It’s insane just how fast the time has gone by. 

What’s even crazier is that all those years haven't just been for show. Before, even slightly dipping into the past had Reo’s mouth painting a frown; however, for a while now, it seemed Reo had pulled himself away from that habit. Especially considering a large chunk of his past contained images of a certain boy.  

Of course, it’d be impossible for Reo to completely forget that section of his life, much less for him to forget the white haired boy that for so long appeared to be his sole purpose of living. He simply wasn’t that type of person. 

Reo thinks he’d remember him even in his final moments, as the person who showed him how to love. 

Strangely enough, and perhaps it was because of his lack of sleep, the life sentence didn’t bring on a sense of impending doom as it often did. Instead, cool relief settled in its place. 

Even with the demands asked of him and the extent of responsibilities placed upon him, Reo felt good. He had persevered where his younger self never thought he could survive. 

It felt fulfilling. 

Where he once thought it’d take lifetimes to rid himself of puncturing shades of hurt, it only took this one. 

Through mountains of thoughts, cracked an earth-shattering yawn. With half-hearted attempts at stifling the action and a small chuckle at his failure, Reo confined himself to the reality of just how late it had become. 

He should really get to bed, he had an early day tomorrow, and the world didn’t seem content on waiting. 

The following year passed quite uneventfully, and before Reo knew it, it was time for graduation. Through his final year, he had somehow managed to remain in an upstanding position, finishing as valedictorian for his graduating class. 

“ Only fitting for a Mikage,” Reo remembers his father had commented. 

In turn, Reo recalls his lack of response. 

Perhaps from a tinge of his rebellious nature still present somewhere within him, or what’s more likely, the slow acceptance beginning to ground him. 

Over his last year of schooling, he had grown more comfortable with the idea of his father and his meticulous ideals. Not willingly, of course, but Reo knew that learning to tolerate his father sooner rather than later would only yield positives for him when he’d actually start to take over the company. 

That being said, Reo wasn’t going to cease his dislike for his father overnight. And there were definitely going to be moments where his distaste would rise, his graduation definitely being one of them. 

Fortunately, even with the added attention stemming from his father’s notable presence at his ceremony, Reo managed to perform his speech fluidly. 

He hadn’t spent too much time thinking of what to say, after all, he didn’t exactly have a large passion for his major. He only made sure to throw in meaningless metaphors every once in a while when he felt the speech was becoming arid. 

And surprisingly, the day wasn’t insufferable. It was actually quite the opposite, once he could slink off, that is. When out of the public eye, Reo didn’t hold back from hoarding the food bar. He hadn’t eaten all morning from speaking to other students and expressing his final regards to his professors, and his stomach wasn’t afraid to remind him of it. 

And so, when the clock struck midday, Reo had successfully managed to disappear from the bustling crowds, immediately formulating plans for a movie night spent watching some corny comedies, and relishing in the last few days before his lease was up. 

The center where the ceremony was being held wasn’t too far from his apartment, and so Reo, instead of hailing a cab, opted to walk home. His father had oh so graciously offered him the evening off, and the idea of enjoying his last potentially free afternoon for a while only enticed him that much more into having a slow day. 

The path to his apartment was pretty direct, but considering it was a weekend, the hustle of the city only added to Reo’s travel time. Reo didn’t complain, it’d give him time to reflect. 

Even though his graduation ceremony hadn’t elicited an incredibly positive response from him, it would be lying to say he wasn’t the least bit happy. It was somewhat fulfilling to see the fruits of his labor when the tide finally settled. 

That’s not to say it didn’t bring up a sense of grief as well. His college life, while perhaps it wasn’t exactly what his younger self had envisioned, passed without much turbulence. To some extent, Reo could even say he enjoyed it. It allowed him some distance from his parents, and gave him more time to become a fully fletched Reo Mikage. 

It let Reo have the time he needed to grow into himself. 

Reo thinks back to his freshman year. He reimagines the younger version of himself, complete with heartbreak, and it brings a small chuckle out of him. He wishes he could go back and offer some heartfelt support for the boy, even if he knew it’d be for naught. 

He still saw Nagi periodically on the news, along with Chigiri and Kunigami, and sometimes their opponents, Isagi and Bachira. He didn’t exactly tune in most of the time, but sometimes, when he was feeling rather bored, he wouldn’t change the channel. 

They seemed to be doing well. Chigiri seemed happier than he was back when Reo knew him, and with the amount of interactions the paparazzi had captured between him and Kunigami, Reo had led himself to believe that they’d finally figured themselves out. Reo hopes they did, at least. Both the snarky Chigiri and the ever-so-patient Kunigami offered some very much needed friendship for him back in the short time they knew each other, so Reo only wishes the best for them. 

Nagi also seemed to be doing better. After some time settling into his team, he began to raise their team’s win ratio and became a staple in the football world. His ego seems to have settled itself comfortably within him as well. 

And maybe Reo should find that appalling, that it turned out the other boy could indeed survive without him, but weirdly enough, he couldn’t bring himself to think anything negative of the outcome. It genuinely made him happy to see the other boy doing so well for himself. Reo had even begun to root for the boy and his accomplishments. 

They were two different people now. Once they’d been each other's, however, time has shifted their connection like a fallen leaf floating along a raging stream. 

And this time, Reo didn’t seem to mind. 

The frantic year following his graduation, Reo spent learning the ropes of corporate life. 

It wasn’t terribly difficult in his case, the only large difference lay in the added responsibilities under the title ‘CEO’, and judging by the media, he had exceeded expectations. 

His name had exploded in the headlines, more than it often did, and some paparazzi had soon made their own temporary home outside of the Mikage building, hoping to catch a glimpse of the new CEO. Unfortunately for them, Reo wasn’t alien to late nights and more often than not, would leave the building well after midnight, managing to avoid the flashing lights. 

Similarly to the public’s favorable opinion of him, his father’s attitude also seemed more lax. He had backed down from the company for the most part and only periodically offered Reo tidbits of complaints or advice every now and again. 

This is one of those times. 

Waking to a rather eerie message from his father following the lines of a possible threat to his public appearance wasn’t exactly Reo’s preferred alarm clock. 

Only after rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and inviting critical thinking back in, could Reo begin to chuckle at his father’s overly solemn tone. It’s shocking just how serious he could sound even over text messages. 

His lack of urgency lay solely in the fact that this isn’t the first time his father has rounded him up for a meeting regarding what’s most likely a rumour blown out of proportion.

This time around, Reo assumes it must have been some sort of dating scandal. After all, when he thinks about it, that girl at their last business expo was a tad bit too touchy. 

Nevertheless, things like this were just another obligation of his when it came to taming the crowds and keeping his image in pristine condition, or at least that's what he tells himself as he boards his father’s elevator. 

Dressed in his usual attire, a perfectly pressed navy suit along with matching slacks and a blue checkered tie, he makes his way up to the highest floor of the penthouse. 

He yawns as the elevator dimly ticks at each passing floor and robotically announces his final destination upon reaching it. Stepping out of the elevator with his dress shoes clattering along with every step, he slowly approaches the big double doors separating him from his father’s wrath.  

Tugging the door open and making his way inside, he wastes no time in making his way over to his father’s desk. 

“You’ve arrived.” His father announces before ever seeing him. Raising his head, the dim smile on his face only serves to unsettle Reo as he’s guided into the sofa chairs directly in front of his desk. 

Reo wordlessly accepts, settling himself down into the plush chair, “Good morning, Father. I gather you had something urgent to discuss with me?” 

Letting out a deep sigh, his father settles his interlocked fingers along the mahogany wood desk. “Correct,” He pauses, “Now, I’m aware you understand the importance of public image, especially as someone in your position?”

Duh.

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then you will understand my concerns about this.” He finishes, shifting his clasped hands apart momentarily and providing Reo with an unlocked tablet. “That video, as I'm sure you can gather from the title, is about that little friend you used to associate yourself with back in high school, when you had that foolish soccer dream.” 

“Nagi?” Reo questioned, confusion nipping at his fingers as he reached for the gadget.

The first initial clue was the thumbnail. With Nagi adorning the majority of the frame, the interviewer thrown off to the side but still present, it seemed like a regular interview session. The second clue laid in the title. 

“Seishiro Nagi shares a confession to long-lost love, celebrates new position, and more!”

“Yes, that…” His father gestures with his hands for a moment, “Nagi fellow. I’m not certain of your relationship with the boy, but I’d advise you to be very careful with him, Reo, you know how the media likes to spin stories like these.” 

Huh? 

“Stories like these?” Reo inquired, thoroughly lost with the purpose of the meeting at this point. 

What does Nagi’s love life have to do with me? 

“Son, I’m sure you can figure out exactly what I am referring to.” His father replies with a pointed look, “I’ll allow you to inform yourself of the situation entirely in your spare time. As for now, that is all.” His father finishes, his hands once again settling along his desk to conclude their conversation. 

A soft nod is all Reo offers in return, still clearly struggling to find the correlation between this video and his public image. 

Regardless of his perplexity, Reo doesn’t linger, standing up and quickly making his way back towards the elevator, tablet in hand this time.

Once on the main floor, Reo swiftly hails his driver and makes his way back to the Mikage building. 

Settling himself into the backseat, Reo doesn’t waste time tending to unaddressed emails, opting to fully immerse himself in the video once in the privacy of his office. As he does so, he can't help but feel his briefcase has become heavier with implications stemming from the damned tablet. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to bask in his uncertainty for long, as it only takes a few minutes until he can spot the entrance of the Mikage Co. building. 

As soon as the car comes to a halt, Reo wastes no time getting out of the door, offering a short appreciative smile towards the driver before exiting. 

As Reo steps inside the lobby, it's astoundingly clear just how early it still is. The hallways that are typically housing more than a few employees at a time are still barren, signaling the large gap that remains until midday. 

In this case, Reo’s grateful for the stillness, it lets him reach his office in record time, his only detour being the elevator’s pace. 

Once in his office, Reo quickly strips himself of his jacket, the room all of a sudden seeming to rise in degrees. Settling down at his desk and exhaling a shaky sigh, Reo digs out the tablet, making quick use of the passcode. 

As soon as it’s unlocked, the video reappears. The thumbnail is still the same, and a small part of Reo wonders what he expected would have changed. 

Nagi, what’d you do this time?

With his nerves still alight, Reo brings himself to press play. As it begins, Reo prepares himself for the worst, only to find out, there’s nothing wrong.

The clip begins entirely typical. Nagi is dressed in a loose sweater, matching his equally baggy cargo pants. It’s such a relaxed fit that it should seem all too unprofessional, but somehow, Nagi had always managed to pull off that style. 

On the other hand, his interviewer is dressed in an outfit miles more appropriate, with a suit and tie and what Reo assumes are slacks hidden out of shot. Reo spots the various papers nestled in his hands, presumably filled with topics for their conversation. 

“Good evening, Nagi Seishiro, can you tell how excited we are to have you on the show?” The animated interviewer huffs a small laugh as he gestures to the presumably large crowd behind the cameras. 

Nagi offers a glance at the crowd, offering a hint of a smile. 

“But apart from that,” The interviewer regains the albino’s attention, “How have you been, genius?” He returns, pressing the small stack of papers closer towards himself in the process. 

At the opening, Nagi sits up a slight bit more, “I’m doing alright, how are you?” 

His response is polite enough to get away with, but the lack of enthusiasm in the albino’s eyes doesn’t go lost by Reo.

Not at all put out by Nagi’s lackluster response, Reo assumes the host has had worse. He continues, “I’m doing great, I mean it's not every day I get to interview a future World Cup holder like yourself.” The interviewer gloats, flashing a blinding smile at the boy, coupled with a few shouts from the audience.

Oh.  

Reo halts for a moment, his memory unhelpfully resurfacing only at the mention of the important date. It’s hard to imagine it’s already time for a new winner. 

It’s even harder to imagine that Reo would forget about something that used to be his whole world just a few years ago.

How time flies. 

Tuning back in, it appears Nagi doesn’t provide much more than a shrug at the compliment, Reo’s unsure if it’s his timidness with the crowd or just indifference. 

“Speaking of which, and I don’t mean to sound biased here, but you’ve been such a hit along with the rest of your team, it's difficult to imagine the trophy going to anyone but Manshine, right?” The host gestures wildly to further his speculation, “But, besides your success, how are you feeling about those upcoming matches? Any nervous bone in your body tingling, prodigy?”

Reo chuckles slightly at the question as he begins to scroll away from the video. He doesn’t think Nagi can even get nervous at the simple prospect of playing soccer. 

Nagi’s response blurs as he’s guided away from the media and into the comments. Apart from Reo’s semi-interest in the completely run-of-the-mill interview, what was it that had seemed out of place?

Scrolling further, he’s met with a variety of responses, all typical. Some praised Nagi, recalling a recent win of Manshine. Others fawned over Nagi’s slouching demeanor, his nonchalance intriguing to them. 

But towards the bottom, Reo soon realized, were the ones that focused on a specific section of the interview.

Memorizing the general time frame referenced, Reo returns to the video. Fluidly, he aligns it to the general timestamp, then, with an unsteady hand, he resumes his investigation. 

“So Nagi, besides your skills, I’ve had various sources itching to know more about you .“ The host shuffles the papers, appearing to look for a topic in particular, “More specifically, about your dating status, so lover boy, what’s it looking like?”

Unaffected by the crowd's eager silence, Nagi replies, a dry and direct tone lacing his words, ”I’m not dating anyone.”

A look of surprise paints the host’s face before he vindicates it flawlessly, “Is that so? Tell you what, I don't believe you.” He eggs on, “There’s got to be someone, I mean, who wouldn’t want a catch like you?”

The audience replies in tune, clearly in disbelief at Nagi’s reply. 

“Well,” Nagi begins, this time uncertainty tainted his voice, as his hand seeks grounding along his nape, “I guess there is someone .”

Reo faintly acknowledges how Nagi’s nervous tick of rubbing his neck hasn't faded. 

“And who might this someone be?” 

“Can’t say, they’d get angry at me.” 

Reo smiled at his response—t ypical Nagi. 

The interviewer doesn’t seem phased at that. Well, it is unsurprising that many want to keep their personal lives out of reach from the public eye. 

Reo hopes Nagi can restrain himself under the pressure. 

“Oh really? Can you at least tell us anything about them?” He pried. 

It takes a moment for Nagi to speak up again after that, as if he’s contemplating telling the truth, “They’re the nicest person I’ve ever met…really pretty too.” Nagi softly mumbled, his face sporting an almost invisible pink hue. 

Reo’s eyes widened. All throughout their friendship, Reo had never heard of Nagi recalling a special connection with another. It’s almost entirely foreign, taking into account the boy’s typical character. 

He’s changed so much. 

“Wow, who knew the Nagi Seishiro was such a sweet talker?” The host announced with a hefty laugh. “Well, this person of yours sounds like they’ve got you on a tight leash.” 

“I guess you could say that,” Another murmur.

His shy tone draws a chuckle out of Reo. In some ways, the albino hadn’t changed a bit, while in others, it appears that Reo never really knew him at all. 

Another boisterous laugh from the host, “Wow. Imagine that, the prodigy of Manshine City still caught up on an old sweetheart.” He chuckles a little longer, ”Well, since you can’t tell us who this mysterious cupid is, would you like to at least send them a message? You’ve got the whole world listening to you, genius.”

Reo feels his heart accelerate, it’s pretty obvious who Nagi was referring to. After all, even with his current position on his team, it appears the boy couldn’t ever shake his connection to Isagi. 

But, regardless of whether Reo was no longer interested in forming a life with Nagi, Reo still wasn’t entirely interested in hearing the blonde’s feelings for the soccer-obsessed Yoichi. 

So, with that in mind, what exactly did this have to do with him?

Reo watched the hesitation in Nagi’s demeanour as he was considering the proposition. Eventually, it seemed it gained on him, as he began to shift in his seat, moving to face the camera. In this position, it felt somewhat intimate, as if Nagi were speaking directly his way, directly to him. 

With a breath, Nagi began, “Um, I'm not entirely sure how to begin, but I’m sure this would go better if you were actually here,” Nagi struggles to continue, his hand once again reaching for his nape, “I see you in the news every day, and if you’re not in the headlines I search for you. I would have called you to congratulate you on your position, but I think you blocked me a few years back, that or you changed your number.”

Nagi looks away from the lens for a moment, frowning, as if thinking about his final message. 

“But, call me. I’ll answer anytime, I swear. My number’s still the same, it’s been waiting for you.” A breath, “I miss my partner, so if you see this, please come back to me.”

Partner? 

A moment of silence passes, the interviewer seemingly in shock, before the crowd lights up again, “Oh, I wasn’t expecting that much from Manshine City’s resident slacker! Ladies and gentlemen, give it up for Nagi Seishiro and his long-lost love!” The audience progressively grows in volume as they begin to cheer Nagi on.

Reo’s not interested in their support, however, and they’re cut short as he opens a separate browser. He was desperate to see the spread of Nagi's message among the media. 

With the keywords Nagi used, it’s only expected that a conclusion would be linked back to Reo.

However, in times like this, Reo could only hope the media was denser than a rock. 

His search results lit up his screen, and Reo immediately clicked the first search result with the key terms ‘Nagi Seishiro’ and ‘love’. 

“Nagi Seishiro indirectly confesses to long-lost ‘partner’, Mikage Corporation’s new CEO, Mikage Reo?” 

Reo lets out a low groan. It was only expected, the media, after all, wasn’t blind. As Reo scrolled down, he was met with various pictures of their youth, ones where it’s quite clear that Reo wasn't just in love with the striker, but practically obsessed with him. 

“Oh, Nagi,” Reo wistfully sighs. Haphazardly scrolling through a few more popular media sources, only to be met with the same conclusion on all. Reo throws his head back, his office chair shifting along the marble floor in the process. 

This was bad. Half of Japan now believed Nagi Seishiro was in love with Mikage Reo. 

Reo accentuates the ‘believes’ part only to make his guilt mellow out for the moment; he will inevitably have to clean up the albino's mess. 

Even if what the media says is true, and Nagi is still thinking about Reo, it’s far too late.

Nagi’s now a professional football player, who’s doing exceptionally well for himself. He’s carved himself out to the public and planted his name, rightfully so, on many news outlets. 

And Reo’s now the CEO of the company that he was always meant to inherit. His football dreams have long been left behind, and the sinking feeling that typically came along with the sentence no longer penetrates Reo’s chest. 

Reo was done with that life. 

It’s not as if Nagi was erased from his past, it’s just that that was all Nagi was now, his past. 

The absence of those longing feelings he once felt all those years ago was proof of it. 

And that’s why cleaning this all up was going to be even more of a hassle. 

Since now, Nagi Seishiro was supposedly in love with Mikage Reo. 

But Mikage Reo was no longer in love with Nagi Seishiro. 

Reo heaves out a sigh as he switches the tablet off, pulling out his laptop in its stead. Once powered on, Reo opens a brand new document and rests his fingertips on the keys.

Guess a public statement is a good place to start.

Unfortunately for Reo, sometimes life isn't so linear, and roots sprout up when least expected. 

It had been almost a month since his response to Nagi’s not-so-cryptic confession on television; in that time, Manshine had progressed into the final stages of the World Cup and, unsurprisingly, won it. Well, unsurprisingly to Reo, after all, he’d witnessed the gem that was Nagi Seishiro since the beginning. 

And the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. With their team’s big win and with Reo’s almost ghost-like status regarding Nagi’s confession, the rumour behind their false ongoing romantic relationship ended up fizzling out quicker than expected. 

That’s not to say the immediate effects of it weren’t weeks of, to put it lightly, hell. The mass number of reporters with blinding cameras that parked themselves stubbornly at the entrance of the Mikage Corporation building day after day for the first week and a half following Reo’s statement was definitely the cause of a few emerging gray hairs for Reo. 

Frankly, he was just glad his home location was kept a secret from them; otherwise, instead of having early flashes on his way into work, he’d have those shuttering lights as an alarm. 

Regardless, it’s shocking what a month could do to a story without a flame. 

One drawback from the entire situation lay in the amount of work Reo had let pile up. He’s not a stranger to the term workaholic, but with the recent anxiety revolving around dealing with the press, Reo couldn’t help but fall back a little. 

And so, for the past week, Reo can practically describe his connection with his desk as a full-blown shackle. His attempts to fight the clock and deadlines barely seemed to make a dent in his pile of to-do’s. 

He felt that he had re-read, edited, and re-read once again the final report for their project over a hundred times at this point, his dry mouth only pushing him to believe that a hundred might be selling himself short. In all honesty, the only thing better than receiving the death penalty at this point would be a piping hot coffee doused in an unhealthy amount of caffeine. 

Does it matter that it’s not his first one of the day? Reo doesn’t think so. 

Just like those reporters hunting for their fill, Reo was identical. However, instead of a good story, for Reo, his pleasure relied on the joy of steamy drinks. Whether it was hot cocoa or a simple coffee, during this time of year, when summer was releasing its last rays of sunshine before the dark gloominess of fall took over, Reo couldn't get enough. 

So with a decision in mind and a location already settling into his mental map, Reo didn’t hesitate to release his shackle momentarily, remembering to reach for his badge before exiting his office. He offered a brief greeting to those he passed on his way down to the first floor. He might look like an undead zombie at the moment with his ghastly appearance, but he wasn’t about to have that ruin his social image more than he already had. 

Thankfully, just as Reo once was, the rest of the building seemed to be in go-mode as well, with the majority of the staff locked into their cubicles pressing their keyboards with just a little too much pressure to be deemed safe. It made the trip downstairs easier, and before Reo knew it, he could already spot the receptionist stationed in the main lobby. Busy holding a small celebration at his speedy getaway and perhaps walking a tad bit too hurriedly towards the glimmering golden handles, which would be his heaven this time around, Reo was thoroughly confused when, all of a sudden, he just stopped. 

Well, he was stopped would be the more accurate description if the solid grip on his inner elbow was anything to go by. A noise of frustration began forming at the back of his throat, and the daunting figure behind him, practically attached to his back, definitely didn't do much to quell Reo’s lack of enthusiasm. He had been so close to completing his mission, only to be stopped by what was most likely a too-handsy paparazzi? 

Inwardly releasing a plethora of some not-so-safe-for-work words, Reo instills the entirety of his self-control to release a plain, “Can I help you?”

A moment of silence fills the gap between them, and Reo has the smallest instinct to ask for outside help. He looks over to the receptionist in hopes of mentally communicating a get me out of here, but is unfortunately met with the top of her head as her attention remained in what Reo assumed was her cell phone. 

He feels a shiver forming along the arm where the man is still tightly harboring him in place, and begins to send sidelong, panicky glances to anyone else he can spot residing in the lobby. 

“Reo.” 

Well, that’s definitely not paparazzi, Reo concludes. If it were, Reo’s certain his first name is not at all what they’d begin with. Something along the lines of respect, among other things. 

But even with the still obscure identity and limited clues of the now-not-reporter still holding him hostage, Reo can’t help but feel an inkling as to who this person was. 

It’s a stretch, and Reo’s almost certain he’s wrong, but he can’t stop himself from imagining it. 

With squinted eyes, a part of him silently eager to finally uncover this person, Reo begins to slowly shift on his heel. His eyes only widen the more he turns.

Fully turning, he’s met with blinding pale hair hidden haphazardly underneath a large dark hood, complementing an impossibly paler face accentuated under the harsh lighting. The boy stared back at him, lashes unflinching in his gaze.

Mouth slightly gaping with so many things unable to say, Reo let’s spill a small, “Nagi?” 

At his name, Nagi’s eyes finally peeled away from the lilac pair, shifting downwards towards the bland lobby carpet. His other hand, the one not holding Reo, quickly springs up towards his nape—that nervous tic of his. 

With a pensive look, Nagi shyly replies, “Reo… I’m glad I caught you.”

Reo stares at the albino for a second, imagining for a moment that this was all some part of an elaborate hallucination. That instead, he’d taken to sleeping in this morning, his alarm working in vain on his nightstand. 

The twitching fingers on his arm, however, reminded him that, no, this is incredibly real. That Nagi Seishiro is here and came for him. 

“Erm, how have you been?” Nagi asked, another twitch of his thumb accompanying the question.

There’s a second split between just gazing up at the ghost in front of him and his brain finally catching up. 

Oh, he asked me something.

“I’m so sorry!” 

The sudden exclamation allowed Reo to tear his eyes away from captivating grey irises and instead towards the lobby doors. There, he was met with what seemed to be a man and a woman both kneeling, scrambling together to gather an array of paperwork littered along the carpet, assumingly a collision between them had occurred.

Between their harsh whispers of apologies and confirmations that ‘it’s quite alright, don’t worry,’  Reo realized that perhaps the lobby of the building he was now the CEO of probably wasn’t the best place to have a conversation such as the one he was set to engage in promptly. 

Looking at it, the position he and Nagi held wasn’t exactly friendly to those looking in either. Nagi holding onto him, his grip beginning to leave creases on his perfectly polished dark suit, they looked nothing short of crazy. 

Reo returned his gaze to the oversized man beside him, eyes holding a small smile. 

“Do you wanna join me for coffee?” 

Over the years, Reo was convinced he had perfected his social skills. He was to a point where he was sure he could carry on small talk with a measly rock. But this situation was making him reevaluate his expertise. 

With Nagi across the table from him, his deft fingers fidgeting with the rim of his mug, seemingly sitting so close, but also farther apart than ever before, Reo truly felt out of words. 

Reo wasn’t even sure how to begin. On one hand, the Nagi facing him, now a world-renowned football player, seemed leagues away from him. Sure, he was a CEO now, but the gap still felt immense. 

Letting the static noises of the cafe’s staff and their side tasks ground him, Reo took the time to rake the other boy’s figure. Well, calling him a boy was pushing it; Nagi was anything but a teenager now. His shoulders, perhaps accentuated by the thick hoodie he wore, were impossibly broader than back in Blue Lock. Nagi was never small per se, but never in his wildest dreams did Reo think he’d turn out this big. 

Guess the cameras never did him justice. 

Only adding to his bulky form, Reo had also caught the few inches Nagi had gained on him on the walk over. While the blonde had always been the taller of the two, it seemed Nagi had only continued sprouting, leaving Reo behind over the years. Although, despite his size, his face had remained nearly the same, maybe a bit more rugged and mature, but his eyes still held that soft, boyish appearance. 

“So Nagi, congratulations on-”

“Reo didn’t answer me back then.” Nagi interrupted, breaking Reo out of his stupor, clearly not interested in small talk. The boy hadn’t separated from his tea to remind Reo of his unfinished task, his hunched shoulders making Reo softly smile. 

Even with his larger appearance, Reo was glad to see his retorts and gestures still resembled those of a child. 

Reo answered with a soft tone, “I’ve been doing well, how about you, Nagi?” 

The smile remained on Reo’s lips. It wasn’t a lie after all. Even with all the hard work and expectations placed on his shoulders, Reo can’t say he’s unhappy. Maybe he’s not living his sixteen-year-old’s dream, but sometimes dreams were meant to be dreamt only. 

Nagi raised his head at Reo’s tone. The minute shift upwards of his eyebrows betrayed an inner thought. He moves to stare at his mug once more, the matcha within almost completely untouched.

“...It’s lonely.”

Lonely?

Reo felt his brows quirk a little at the reply. Regardless of the media’s field day the past month and their constant insistence that the genius was all alone, Reo knew better. Nagi had his teammates, the friends he had made back in Blue Lock, and that's not even considering the new coaches and acquaintances he may have gathered since the beginning of his professional career. Nagi may have been perceived as a so-called one-winged angel by those set on believing his most recent interview wasn't a publicity stunt or something along those lines, but unlike them, Reo always knew better. 

And with their recent win, the boy had even the world at his feet now. What’s there to miss?

“Lonely?” Reo let out a small chuckle, “I mean, I know it can be lonely at the top, but aren’t you still close with Chigiri and the others?”

A shrug. “They’re not the same.” 

Same?

Nagi had always been cryptic in his lazy ways of communication, but his short responses were starting to make Reo feel like a locksmith. 

Connecting the dots was going to be troublesome, as Reo couldn’t confidently say that he had kept track of every new thing in Nagi’s professional career. After all, in the earlier stages, even seeing the boy on TV garnered a malicious sensation in his chest, urging him to change the channel half the time.

Then, when he could finally stomach seeing the boy on his screen, came the long nights, filled with scanning through articles and training himself to be a successful corporate worker. But even so, in the spare moments he would reach for a remote to listen to background static and instead be met with the albino, he couldn't ever recall seeing him alone . Instead, Reo could always count on seeing Chigiri or even dummy Zantestu joining in on Nagi’s shot. 

So, lack of peers wasn’t the cause, then…

“Oh, I understand,” Reo voiced, his words appearing to strike a chord with the striker if his slowly straightening spine had anything to do with it. “They don’t excite you, right? Like Isagi?” 

Reo had said it in such a matter-of-fact tone, devoid of emotion as if he were asking Nagi for the time, that the sudden spread of confusion on the albino was almost comical, had it not been for the soft-

“What?”

He had whispered it so airily, Reo was surprised it hadn’t gotten whisked away in the loud clattering of dishes from behind the café’s counter. 

His confusion was palpable in the way he tilted his head, a frown mirroring Nagi’s, “Did I say something wrong?”

“What does Isagi have to do with us?” Nagi returned, his tone carrying a sort of repulsion. 

Completely lost, Reo questions, “Us? Nagi, what do I have to do with your team?” 

“My team? Didn’t Reo see my interview?” 

Oh, seeing it is putting it lightly, I practically had to let the people down easy!

Suddenly feeling invigorated at reminders of his cleanup, Reo exclaimed, “Of course I did. Nagi, what were you thinking, saying something so easily misconstrued?” His tone was a tad bit too loud for their environment. “It took so long just trying to get that rumour to die down, doesn’t Manshine City do media training?”

“I just told the truth,” Nagi voiced, not a hint of shame, only sincerity, “I’ve missed Reo. Still do.”

The heavy admission hung in the air defiantly. Reo, unsure of how to respond, and Nagi showcasing his best set of puppy dog eyes on this side of the Atlantic. Reo had always been weak to Nagi’s expressions, perhaps because of their rarity, and now, those wide bug eyes were definitely not helping. 

“Nagi, listen,” Reo began, his pointer finger and thumb finding solace on the bridge of his nose, “You didn’t just say you missed me. You practically gave all of Japan the idea that you-”

“Loved Reo?” 

How can he say that so easily?

“Yes! Nagi, you can’t just do that, you know how the media takes stuff and runs with it.”

“But I didn’t lie.”

Reo could only gape at his statement.

“Reo,” Nagi extended his hands, reaching for Reo’s. Dry hands met soft and malleable ones. “‘I'm not the best at this, but I meant what I said. When you left Bluelock, I swear I would have been right there along your side, but if I had done that, it would have meant I couldn’t have kept our promise.” He was nervous, it showed in the way he restlessly fidgeted with Reo’s fingernails. “We vowed to get that World Cup, and although we didn’t do it together, know that I did it for you. So please, Reo, forgive me for not following you immediately all those years ago.”

The sudden admission caught Reo off guard, immensely. In the time Reo knew him, he had always been a man of few words, so the large confession was definitely out of place. 

“Ah, Nagi I-“ Reo murmured, hastily being cut off by a harsh vibration against the small coffee table. He glanced downwards at his phone, now alight with an eerie message from his father. 

Are you finished with this month's report? 

A sigh escaped him as he gathered up his cellphone, sending back an affirmative response. He had let this go on far too long. He had a deadline and work to do, he couldn’t allow himself such a break at a pivotal time like this. 

Regarding Nagi’s confession, however…

“Sorry, it’s my dad. I should probably get back to the office.” Reo replied as he began standing, gathering his belongings in the process. A swift hand, once again settling on his, successfully captured him, slowing his descent. 

“Reo.” Nagi squeezed his hand tightly. “Don’t run away.” 

Reo looked down at the albino. His grip was almost blinding, and it seemed his hand was trembling slightly from the force. With Nagi’s head down, refusing to make eye contact, it was almost nostalgic. For a moment, it reminded Reo of himself, back all those seasons ago. The reminder of just how desolate the days seemed back then, how rejected he had felt: by the world, by his parents, by his love.  

He raised his hand, second-guessing himself for a moment before ultimately landing in the unruly locks of white abyss. 

How can his hair feel just as it had then? 

“Nagi, you’ll be alright without me.” Reo sighed. This is what he didn’t want. Even if he no longer felt the urge to pick the boy’s head up and lock their lips, he still cared about him. He didn’t want to hurt him, not now, not ever.

You have so much ahead of you, genius.

“Reo-“

Don’t let me stop you. 

“Nagi, I was and still am grateful to have had you back then. You taught me things I never would have imagined experiencing-“ 

“Then stay with me,” Nagi suddenly rasped out. Suddenly standing, his face no longer hidden, and smoky eyes locking with plum ones. “Reo, I’ve grown, I can be better than I was. I can treat you right this time. I promise.” 

Reo gazed at him for a moment. Then, he broke out into a soft smile, one he would only ever reserve for the lazy sloth. “Nagi, I’m certain you could. And I’m sure you could do that with anyone else as well, you don’t need me.” 

He shifted his hand back towards the striker’s forehead, shifting back the layers of outgrown bangs.

“I do need you. There’s no one else but Reo.” Nagi stubbornly argued, the moisture accumulating along his waterline, only making him appear as a petulant child. 

The words elicited something more within Reo. Somewhere tucked within, he felt a sliver of emotion. Reo knows his adolescent self would have been elated to hear that. 

“But there will be. You’ll find someone new and you’ll love them as much as you loved me. That, I’m confident in.” Reo reassured him. “So let’s leave it here, genius.”

A final pat on his head, and just as quickly as it came, Reo rescinded his palm, forever letting go of the treasure, Nagi Seishiro.  

“Reo, I swear, I won’t let you go,” Nagi promised, a crease beginning to form between his brows. 

Reo wonders how differently it could have gone had Nagi been just a little quicker. 

Reo chuckled, “Is that your ego?”

“It’s a promise, Reo.”