Chapter Text
Before Reo and after Reo.
That was what life was like to Nagi.
Before he met Reo and after he met Reo.
Though he supposes his life before Reo didn’t matter anymore. He could barely even remember what it was like. He guesses it was mundane and uneventful, much like any of the time after Reo whenever they weren’t together.
Reo and Nagi first met when Reo accidentally almost broke Nagi’s phone. He remembers staring up into Reo’s face, slightly annoyed he had to move from his perch, until he was met with the ferocity and intensity of lavender burning holes straight through his head. What’s he so excited for?
Reo started dragging Nagi around after that, and Nagi had complied, albeit a little unwillingly. In truth, he wasn’t sure why he indulged in Reo’s world.
Probably because Reo had this infectious aura around him, his mannerisms seeping out and touching the world, painting the sky bluer and Nagi’s eyes brighter. He found himself unable to completely refuse Reo, always quietly rolling along with him, like flowers and leaves swaying in time with the wind.
One particular memory of Reo that Nagi holds close to his heart was months before Blue Lock. The sun was setting, casting mauve and rose hues over the sky and over Reo, seemingly dyeing his purple hair golden. Nagi was sitting behind him, balancing on the backseat of the bike.
“Coming for practice tomorrow?” Reo had asked.
“Football’s so troublesome…” Nagi mumbled.
“I’ll come pick you up after class, alright?” Reo asked, his voice light with amusement.
Nagi had sighed, not bothering to answer this time. The wind was sweet with Reo’s laughter. He was peddling the both of them, the breeze gently flowing past Nagi, carrying with it the scent of whatever shampoo Reo had used. It was a smell that Nagi was familiar with and had come to associate with comfort and sleepiness.
Nagi isn’t sure why this memory of Reo had stood out so strongly among the rest. There was nothing really special about it; it was just routine, Reo biking the both of them home after a long day of school and practice.
“Nagi, look at the sunset!” Nagi remembers Reo saying.
Nagi turned his head sleepily, watching the silhouette of the city against the backdrop of the setting sun. It’s just a sunset, what’s so special about it?
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Reo had said, and all of a sudden, Nagi wanted this simple, mundane sunset to be framed in the Louvre. He made a generic noise of agreement, and slumped forward and pressed his left cheek into Reo’s back, watching the sunset through Reo-coloured lenses.
“It’s so cool how the different colours mix together. Purple, and pink, and blue, and yellow, and orange. It makes the clouds look like cotton candy, too. It’s amazing!”
As Reo spoke, Nagi slowly came to the realisation that he was right. It was really cool how the colours mixed together. The clouds did look like cotton candy.
Before Reo, Nagi would have never paid the setting of the sun a second thought.
Before Reo, the setting of the sun had only meant that the end of another boring day was near, and that the start of the next boring day was at hand.
After Reo, the setting of the sun meant bike rides, wind cooling his hot skin, Reo’s voice lulling Nagi to sleep as he pedals through.
After Reo, the setting of the sun meant seeing the saturations paint Reo’s hair golden, splashing his skin with the most wonderful colours imaginable, and the warmth of a body that tethered him to life.
In that moment, Nagi had thought this was the most beautiful sunset he had seen, and he never wanted it to end.
Nagi added sunsets to his slowly growing list of Things Reo has made my life worth living for.
A week after Nagi’s first sunset, he woke himself up by purposely pricking his finger on his cactus. Then he went through the usual morning routine of showering and changing slowly, then dragged himself to his kitchen.
Reo had been horrified when he found out about Nagi’s eating patterns, and had taken to filling Nagi’s fridge every week with food.
“I don’t like the idea of you spending money on me,” Nagi had said on a Saturday afternoon, peering at Reo over his phone screen as he unloaded groceries into the fridge.
“I don’t mind.” Reo picked up a jug of milk and inspected it before putting it into the fridge. “Your eating habits are atrocious, anyway. It’s not healthy at all. Nevermind keeping up your performance in football, you’re going to die an early death.”
“That’s not very nice.”
“Well, it’s the truth,” Reo had said bluntly. “I don’t want you dying before we win the World Cup.”
Before we win the World Cup. So Reo had already made up his mind about wanting to go through with this all the way, with Nagi.
Nagi wondered for a brief moment if he and Reo would still remain friends after they win the World Cup, and the thought seemed stupid when he looked over at Reo fussing over his fridge.
Reo had already hollowed out a small hole in Nagi’s heart and was going to stay there for as long as he had breath in his chest.
“I don’t want you spending your money on me,” Nagi repeated.
Reo had straightened up and grinned over at Nagi. “I don’t mind if it’s for you.”
Now, Nagi opened his fridge door, staring at the fresh groceries Reo had bought for him.
I still don’t like him spending money on me, but, well…I can’t waste it if it’s Reo.
Nagi took out a pack of ready-to-eat waffles and poured honey over them.
Reaching his classroom, he picked his way over to his usual table beside the window and sat down, using his bag as a makeshift pillow. He was unusually early, and his class was littered with only a few other students. They were chatting among themselves quietly, not bothering to greet Nagi or include him in their conversation.
He didn’t care. The only person worth talking to was Reo, anyway.
Nagi had quietly admitted to himself that he was beginning to enjoy spending time with Reo. Or as much as ‘enjoy’ meant to Nagi, since he couldn’t really be bothered to smile or frown. Still, it was nice to have someone to eat lunch with and bike home with, even if Reo did most of the talking during meals and all of the pedalling home.
Before Reo, Nagi viewed the world in black and white, through the lens of a camera, as if he was merely the one observing the world through the camera screen as a bystander, and not as a person living in it. There was no beauty in anything; there was no one to hold his hand and tell him to really look past the monochrome and focus on the birds singing in the morning or the cicadas chirping at night.
After Reo, Nagi had started to see and become familiar with colours.
When he saw red, it was because one of their schoolmates would stop to flirt with Reo, and Nagi would get annoyed and impatient.
A bright blue sky meant that Reo would grin at Nagi and say, “Nagi, let’s get some ice cream! What flavour do you want?”.
A dull grey sky meant that Reo would grin at Nagi and say, “Nagi, make sure to use an umbrella if it starts raining! I don’t want you to get sick.”
The colour green meant football turfs and long afternoons of kicking a ball around with Reo.
Nagi had begun to equate the colour purple with Reo.
It was the first thing he had noticed about Reo, a shock of violet hair and amethyst eyes smouldering in his line of sight, that day on the staircase. How is it possible for a single person to fill the room the way that he does?
On a previous morning on his way to school, Nagi was distracted by hyacinths that one of his neighbours had planted on their front lawn. For some reason, he half-expected Reo to show up, and when he didn’t, Nagi bent down to get a closer look at the flowers. He decided that he liked them because they reminded him of Reo’s eyes. He spent another 15 minutes studying the flowers, comparing their colour to the deep hue of Reo’s eyes.
No…their colour isn’t as pretty as Reo’s, but they still remind me of him.
Nagi was late to school that day, and when Reo asked him why, Nagi had said, “I passed by some hyacinths and they reminded me of you.”
Nagi closed his eyes against the watery morning sun filtering in through the windows. This is such a drag. When is Reo going to get here? There were purple spots dancing around the blackness of Nagi’s closed eyelids.
Those hyacinths are so pretty…should I try to get one? But that means I’m going to have to do research on how to care for them…what a pain…
Nagi’s eyes snapped open and he lifted his head, almost eagerly, when he heard the familiar ruckus of classmates tripping over themselves to greet and talk to Reo whenever he showed up to class. Nagi had come to recognise Reo by the sound of his footsteps alone; it was the way he carried himself, with confidence and charm and bulldozing his way through any obstacle in his path.
Or maybe it was because Reo’s sounds and movements were the only ones worth paying attention to, and everything else was worthless and boring.
Everyday, I look forward to seeing those hyacinths…
Nagi didn’t smile where Reo did, making his way over to Nagi and ruffling his white hair.
Even his footsteps, even my heartbeat…
When Reo said, “Good morning, Nagi,” suddenly the low chatter of their classmates in the background weren’t annoying but melodic, the light from the sun wasn’t blinding but soft and warm, and the classroom seemed brighter and sharper.
Football was just football to Nagi, while football was everything to Reo. Still, Nagi played because it is everything to Reo.
If I didn’t have football, I wouldn’t have Reo.
Football was just football to Nagi until he met Barou Shoei and Isagi Yoichi.
When Barou insulted Nagi and Reo, Nagi made a beeline for Barou and was bewildered about why his heartbeat had picked up when Barou called him Reo’s ‘slave’.
Slave? The word made Nagi twitch. No. I’m his partner.
When Team V was getting overwhelmed by Team Z, Nagi looked at Reo, wondering how he would take this first potential loss.
The look on Reo’s face, confusion, anger and despair, rolled into one and marring his features, had ignited a fire in Nagi’s stomach. He kicked into high gear and for the second time, took the initiative.
I’ve never seen Reo make that face before. Are he, Zantetsu and I…are we really going to lose?
When Nagi made another trap and lobbed the ball into the top corner of the goal, he looked over at Reo, who was watching Nagi in shock and amazement. He decided it was better than whatever expression he was making before.
So this is why Reo plays football.
“Hey, Reo. Isn’t football fun?”
Nagi watched Team Z crowd around Kunigami Rensuke after he equalised.
So it’s desperation and adrenaline that’s filling the air right now…this is Team Z and Reo fighting with everything they’ve got. Is this me fighting with everything I’ve got? I wonder how good it would feel if I scored a goal.
After Team V lost, Nagi walked up to Reo. The fire that was burning so brightly in his stomach was slowly going out. Reo was drenched in sweat, and he looked furious.
Is this the world Reo is constantly in whenever he’s on field?
“Reo,” Nagi called out. Reo looked up, the blaze in his eyes softening as he listened to Nagi’s next words. “Is this what it feels like? Losing, even after giving it your all? It’s frustrating.”
As they lay side by side on their mattresses later that night, Reo was on his side facing Nagi, and Nagi watched as he slept. Reo had barely spoken a word after the match, which unnerved him. He has known Reo long enough to know that something was off, but he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he could do to erase this loss. He and Reo were supposed to be unstoppable.
Nagi found himself breathing in time with Reo, following the movements of his shoulder. His face was blank and peaceful. Nagi thought back to just a few hours ago, where his features had been fragmented into something Nagi never wanted to see again.
Why am I playing football? Is it to pass time? Is it to accompany Reo? Nagi turned his thoughts to why he suddenly felt so provoked when Barou and Isagi confronted him. What was with that feeling…I’d never felt so pumped up before. Is that what Reo feels like all the time on field? It’s exciting.
And just like that, football was another thing added to Nagi’s slowly growing list of Things Reo has made my life worth living for.
That look on Reo’s face still made Nagi uneasy. Was it my fault? Was it my fault that we had lost? He made a promise to himself, then: to get better at football, so that Reo would never have to make that face again.
Reo shifted, turning away from Nagi to lie on his back. Nagi watched his chest rise and fall, slowly getting sleepy. His thoughts turned away from football. Nagi, in his head, traced the curve of Reo’s nose and lips, the arch of his chin dipping into his jaw and throat.
He missed the scent of shampoo that Reo used to use before coming to Blue Lock.
His thoughts were a mess.
Nagi was uncertain about why he suddenly missed the open sky. Was it because he missed seeing the way sunlight would bounce off of Reo’s skin? Or the feeling of wind whipping past the both of them, bringing with it the sound of Reo’s laughter, and the promise that Nagi would be able to experience this again the next day? Did he miss sunsets? He thought he did. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember what one looked like now. He wanted Reo to describe one to him again.
Anything to return him back to the day Reo pointed out his first sunset to him.
Nagi fell asleep with the scent of hyacinths filling his lungs, and woke up to a warm arm slung over his ribs. By Reo’s calm and even breathing, Nagi could tell he was still asleep. He opened his eyes, face to face with Reo. His lips were slightly parted and some of his hair had fallen into his face. Nagi wanted to brush it out of the way, and he was really hungry and also needed to use the bathroom, but he didn’t move. He didn’t want to wake Reo up. He felt safe in this position, and decided that a few more minutes like this wouldn’t hurt. It’s nice waking up to someone hugging you.
Nagi’s heart leapt instantaneously when Reo opened his eyes. He didn’t seem to realise he had his arm slung over Nagi and yawned, stretching as he did so. He sat up and wiped his face before turning to look at Nagi.
“Oh. Did I wake you up?”
“I’ve been awake for a while now.”
“Oh.” Reo looked confused. “Why didn’t you wake me, then?”
Nagi opened his mouth to speak and nothing came out. Why didn’t he wake Reo?
“I don’t know,” he said truthfully. Reo smiled at him affectionately.
After the first stage of the second selection, Nagi chose to go with Isagi and Bachira Meguru.
If I want to get better at football, I have to play with these guys who kept me on my toes throughout the match. I really don’t want to leave Reo, though…