Chapter Text
Now, Nagi Seishiro would like to make it explicitly clear that he would rather be anywhere else besides here.
Wait no. Scratch that, actually.
Being back in his own bed in his own space sounds nice in theory, but as Nagi discovered in the short span between being locked off and being back in the fucking building again, such ideas are only pleasant in his head. Mostly because of the fact that his imagination likes to simulate Reo being there as well, laying in bed with him and telling Nagi how much of a good boy he is when, in reality, Reo is very obviously not by Nagi’s side.
Nagi ponders, eyes wandering around the almost sterile-appearing environment around him and thinks that, perhaps, this place might be preferable. If only because the atmosphere provided by his dusty, unused Hakuo dorm was thick with depression, its state a very reflection of its one and only occupant.
The annoyingly bright fluorescents of the Blue Lock building hit his eyes almost painfully, but they are familiar now.
A distraction.
This facility is a distraction. At least, that’s what it should be. Another temporary escape from the dread that is Nagi’s now Reo-less reality.
Yet, somehow, Nagi finds himself here.
Lifting his head, Nagi brings his eyes to the gigantic screen that occupies the entirety of the wall. Too big, in Nagi’s humble opinion, he knows a thing or two about screens afterall. Maybe if the many individual monitors were used to display his memories of Reo, at least then it would be aesthetically pleasing— or even all of the monitors joining forces to portray one gigantic portrait of his dear partner’s breathtakingly beautiful face.
Nagi sighs whistfully, melting back into his arms with only one eye open now. The one who puts that blinding smile on Reo’s face, Nagi longs to be that person again. But he’s resigned himself to his current fate, to be with Reo again means another fight for his life here in a facility filled with other bum ass losers.
Win. Quickly. Beat all these guys into the dirt. If he does all of that, then Nagi will have earned the right to stand by Reo’s side again.
Reo appears.
On the screen, that is, but Nagi can’t help but think that it was he who summoned him. His partner doesn’t smile, though. Serious is Reo’s expression as he passes, long and high and so precise that it almost has Nagi’s mouth watering.
Oh the things Nagi could do with a pass like that. Trap it, turn it, shoot it, Nagi can practically taste the goal, the adrenaline rush and the subsequent overload of ecstasy as Reo runs into his arms to celebrate.
Perfect. Ten out of ten. Only one note and that’s this: The pass isn’t meant for Nagi. The pass won’t be meant for him ever again if he gets caught lacking again.
Nagi perks up, both eyes tracking the ball’s trajectory. As expected, someone— crow dude or Karasu or whatever. Otoya’s totally “not” boyfriend, Nagi notes— traps it effortlessly. Nagi almost seethes.
I could’ve trapped it better, he thinks bitterly, I don’t care if something good happened to crow-face, it should’ve happened to me.
But on the playback, Reo mouths something that looks like “nice trap” anyway, serious expression finally breaking with a cocky smirk. Not his cute, winning smile, but Nagi feels his heart pick up anyway. It doesn’t help that the cameras seem to focus on Reo’s lips too.
His hands twitch at his sides as the urge to reach out to the screen becomes more persistent. To reach through and retrieve Reo, or better yet, to jump to where Reo is, fully uniformed up and ready to trap another one of Reo’s passes.
The dream remains unfulfilled. And, though Nagi doesn’t care what any of the other no names in the monitor room thinks, he can’t help but feel that they’d all complain if Nagi told them all to get the fuck out so he could make heart eyes at the sight of his digitized partner.
So instead, Nagi opts for yet another sigh.
Reo… Nagi’s partner appears to be just fine on the outside, but Nagi can tell that something is off. Team Blue Lock’s match against Nigeria, the one Nagi was able to watch live, Nagi had seen it first hand. Had seen Reo’s beautiful goal, how the crowd cheered for him, his energy dazzling, but his face… Well, Reo’s face was beautiful, of course, but it was notably void of a smile even as he pumped his fist in an uncharacteristically subdued celebration. Any signs of the vibrant, over-excitable Reo that Nagi had always known were gone.
“I’ll win on my own.”
Nagi could’ve sworn those were the words that left Reo’s mouth. Conflicting pride and concern over his partner engraved into the memory.
Is it because Reo misses him? Does that mean Reo really does still care? Reo is doing perfectly fine playing wise, but emotionally… Something stirs within Nagi, a selfish pride rearing its head as it declares battle with Nagi’s concern.
Nagi hasn’t been replaced, that much is for sure. Just like Reo promised him all those months ago. His partner hasn’t fallen for whatever Isagi-centered ploy Ego is trying to push on everyone, that alone gives Nagi even more hope.
Even so, Nagi mentally jots down the way only Chigiri offered his congratulations and files it away for later use. An interrogation of the other participants is in order once Nagi makes his marvelous return.
Death to all of them! Nagi proceeded to sentence them all to beheading afterwards.
The camera cuts from Reo in favor of following the play so suddenly that Nagi is brought back to the present. Nagi sighs even louder, manifesting that it brings Reo back again, and to his surprise, it does.
In a way.
The frame pans to one of team France’s midfielders, the red-haired one with the lash extensions, as he receives a pass. Boring.
A sudden flash of purple and then, boom, Reo is back on the screen.
Nagi sits up again, that’s much better.
The two are battling it out for possession when Nagi decides to look away. Only for one second. Only so that he can pull his phone out of his pocket to check the time and then, if he closes his eyes a little, who cares? It’s not like this match is live, Nagi can play it back later, or better yet, look up the Reo-specific highlights online.
But the voices around him are increasing the volume of their chatter. Other Blue Lock rejects crowd into the monitor room like it’s the only one in the damn building sharing their unwanted commentary like they’re auditioning to be sports broadcasters when their football careers inevitably crash and burn.
Maybe it’s time to go.
But that would entail getting up and Nagi’s already made himself comfortable, and what if he misses a pivotal Reo play? Or the match’s aftermath.
A sweaty but satisfied Reo, flushed from head down to his chest, possibly even further. Reo and the distracting way he likes to wipe the sweat off his brow using his jersey, exposing his midsection for everyone to see…
Ugh.
Add that to the growing list of reasons why Nagi needs to get back to Reo’s side expeditiously. Preserving Reo’s innocence from the lecherous gaze of crazed soccer fanatics is Nagi’s duty. Not to mention, protecting him from other players.
Nagi makes the decision to stay and with the buzz of the crowd not slowing, Nagi peeks upward before turning away.
Just as quickly, Nagi’s head snaps back up. So fast, Nagi hears a pop, dull pain blooming, but none of that compares to what his eyes see.
The scene changes in a blink and without any grace or warning, Nagi is diving for the remote, ripping it out of the hands of some random and ignoring whatever stupid complaints come out of his mouth in favor of hitting the rewind button.
Nagi can’t believe his eyes.
And while Nagi isn’t in the business of self-torture, he hits replay a few times. Just to make sure he hasn’t started seeing hallucinations.
As it turns out, his eyes are, in fact, not deceiving him.
Not only are Nagi’s eyes not deceiving him, but he’s also subjected himself to rewatching the offending scene at least three times leaving him increasingly agitated.
But what could he have possibly witnessed that has him gripping the remote so hard, it’s in danger of cracking?
Oh, nothing really. Just, you know, some French Itoshi Sae dupe feeling up the love of Nagi’s life.
No big deal, right?
Wrong.
Big, loud, incorrect buzzer.
“Oh hell no…” Nagi whispers.
The lethargy in his body dissipates as he rises from his slumped over position, inching forward towards the screen with eyes nearly popping out of their sockets.
The others in the room even have the decency to give Nagi a wide berth.
All but one, that is.
One, irritating and clueless fraud.
“Mikage sure is putting up a fight!”
An eye twitch.
Nagi really doesn’t want anyone talking to him right now. Or ever, really. Especially not about Reo.
The owner of the voice, Kiri— Kirio? Kiri-something— keeps talking but Nagi does as he does best, and tunes it out.
Honestly, Nagi was kind enough to even attempt to remember his name and that’s about as far as he’s willing to extend his kindness right now. What’s-his-name should count himself lucky, though, as in the short span of Nagi trying to wrack his brain and turning his attention back to the now tiny purple dot on the screen, Nagi’s treacherous mind provides him with the unhelpful memory of Reo calling this guy the “jewel” of Japanese soccer. Some kind of “National Treasure.”
The concept of Reo calling anyone else by that name leaves a bitter taste. But Reo had assured Nagi that he, Reo’s one and only treasure, could not be replaced. Still, right now, those words do little to stop the simmering anger.
Non-Reos should be neither seen nor heard.
Unfortunately, the so-called “jewel” is about as brainless as the chunks of rock he’s nicknamed after, taking Nagi’s silence as permission to keep talking.
Mr. Not-Reo’s-Treasure lets out a long whistle, “That guy is ginormous!”
A hand finds its way on Nagi’s shoulder.
Casual. Overly friendly. Nagi feels his face contort into what must be an obvious look of disgust, but whoever this is keeps his eyes fixed on the screen.
Nagi shoos the hand away, slapping it and then very obviously, rubbing his hand on his sweat pants to clean it off.
The only person whose touch Nagi always welcomes is busy fighting for his life while trying to steal the ball from some handsy giant who probably smells like cheese.
Nagi wrinkles his nose.
Like a petulant child, Nagi finds himself pouting.
I’m bigger, he thinks.
One quick google search later and, yup, sure enough Nagi is bigger. By only three centimeters, but if these nobodies think that Reo is cute and dainty next to that guy, then they’re not ready to see Reo next to Nagi again… Maybe he should stop slouching so much. Bulking up a bit probably wouldn’t hurt either. Not too much, though, or else Reo won’t be able to carry him anymore.
“—Really a giant! I mean, he looks like he could swallow Mikage whole!”
Nagi’s fellow white haired acquaintance must be more stupid than Nagi gave him credit for. Unaware of the icy aura that radiates from Nagi and how much worse it becomes when he has the gall to say that sentence out loud.
Shut up.
“Good on Mikage for being able to take Hugo on. He’s lasting a whole lot longer than most other players.”
Shut up, shut up, shut up.
The words repeat themselves in Nagi’s mind.
Swallow Reo whole? Swallow Reo whole???
Nagi clicks his tongue, loudly and scathing, Don’t piss me off.
Can this fucker take a damn hint and just shut up already? Better yet, can he just leave Nagi alone? This guy must have the world’s smoothest brain if he thinks spewing all of this bullshit in front of Nagi is cool.
Also, of course Reo can take this Hugo guy on (Nagi swallows the bile that threatens to spill up and out at the mental image) Reo could take Nagi on for heaven’s sake, and as Nagi stated previously, he’s bigger.
The room suddenly feels like it’s dipped below freezing, Nagi’s foul mood manifesting in a tense energy that has most of the other npc occupants shuffling out with lame excuses. Something, training. Something, lunch. Nagi doesn’t give a fuck.
Yet white-haired-guy doesn’t get the memo. Still sitting next to Nagi looking all stupid.
Being the only person with a functioning brain is such a burden.
That thought is accompanied by a feeling like his heart is being squashed between a table and a hydraulic press as wave after wave of missing Reo hits him at full force.
If Reo were here, they’d make fun of all the idiots together. If Reo were here, he’d charm this guy into getting them water or something, and then while he was gone, Reo would turn to Nagi and corroborate Nagi’s conclusion that this guy is an absolute dumbass.
Making fun of the masses was one of His and Reo’s favorite pastimes and now those memories feel like an entire lifetime ago.
“—At least, right? 6’3… maybe even 6’5! He’s like a real life titan!” the guy says cheerfully.
Nagi suddenly finds himself face to face with the zoomed in still image of Hugo with fist full of Reo’s chest in his hand.
This motherfucker! Nagi was so lost in his longing for Reo that he didn’t even notice the remote disappear from his hand.
Nagi has eyes. So, yeah, he can tell that Hugo isn’t some teacup chihuahua.
It’s still not a fun thing to admit when he’s making Reo look all dainty next to him. Nagi’s face scrunches up like he’s bitten into a whole lemon.
Small, vulnerable Reo and the way Hugo sinks his big, meaty claws into him. (Reo is not small. Nagi knows this, of course, but that’s besides the point).
It should be illegal for a non-Nagi to make Reo look small.
“I’m bigger,” Nagi finally says.
He can’t take this shit any longer.
The other guy has the balls to look at Nagi like he’s the one with the goldfish brain, trying and failing miserably to bite back a condescending smirk.
Asshole.
Honestly, fuck this guy! If Nagi weren’t a pacifist, white hair would be out cold on the floor.
Short people should never laugh! Nagi swears to Reo that the 185cm and under crowd only prove time and time again that what they lack in height, they make up with pure, unadulterated audacity.
Nagi makes a pointed effort to try and ignore him, speaking affirmations to himself in an attempt to curb his irritation, “I could swallow Reo whole,” he mumbles, “Reo can take me. I’m Reo’s treasure.”
Not Hugo. Never Hugo.
There’s no doubt in his words because it's not something to be questioned. Nagi Seishiro is Reo’s just as Mikage Reo is Nagi’s.
This French dude is just an interloper. A footnote villain in their love story.
“...No,” the guy next to him says with certainty.
He waves a hand to emphasize his dismissal, essentially swiping away the cloud of Nagi’s imagination in the process.
Dumber than a bag of bricks, this one. This guy might just be worse than Zantetsu because at least Zantetsu has some sense of situational awareness. At least Zantetsu is likable. God, is this what Barou feels like when he has to deal with Nagi? He groans internally, no way Japan’s jewel is making him sympathize with the maid of all people.
Most of the people have already cleared the room already but this guy— Kira… That sounds vaguely correct, Kira… Rhinoceros? Nagi shakes his head. That couldn't possibly be right, but whatever.
Anyway, Kira brings a finger to his chin, rewinding the clip yet again. Seriously, Nagi is beginning to contemplate filing a complaint for harassment for this.
“No,” Kira says again, more certain this time.
That ugly smile is back on his face. If he were the type, he’d punch it off but that’s too much work and Nagi can’t risk word getting back to Reo about it. Nagi decides on a well-aimed kick with a ball during afternoon practice later.
The smile itself might be enough to fool others, but not Nagi. It’s unsettling. Kind of uncanny valley in the way that it makes Nagi’s skin crawl. Pulled too far at the corners, overly saccharine. Nagi’s teeth kind of hurt from looking at it. Artificially sweetened in a way that Reo’s fake smile isn’t.
This guy— Kira— looks borderline annoyed at Nagi. As if he expected Nagi to respond in deference to him rather than stating an open and honest disagreement.
Good.
Kira can stay mad for all Nagi cares. Kira can get even more mad and decide that dealing with Nagi is more of a hassle than it’s worth while he’s at it.
Internally, Nagi sticks his tongue out. The only person Nagi would blindly agree with is Reo, thank you very much. (Even then, Nagi will still push back sometimes if only because Reo’s face is cute when he’s annoyed. Reo’s face is always cute, period).
“Hugo is definitely bigger,” Kira laughs.
Nagi’s face must finally show some kind of perceivable, menacing expression because Kira is quick to speak up again.
“Mikage’s putting up a great fight considering he’s pretty tall too…but—”
“But what?” Nagi says, cutting Kira off.
It gets him to finally shut his trap, but Nagi’s not done yet, peering at him with large eyes and pressing further, “But what?” he asks again.
“But…” Kira scrambles, “Haha, you know, he’s—”
“No, I don’t know,” Nagi interrupts, “Reo’s what?”
Tell me since you know every damn thing, Nagi thinks.
Maybe he even says it out loud with the way Kira flinches, Nagi doesn’t know. Nagi can’t really be asked to care, not when he feels his anger heating him up and his vision going red as he anticipates whatever bullshit Kira is about to spew.
In front of him, Kira grows more uncomfortable by the second. Nagi doesn’t show mercy, staring him down, never once looking away even when Kira’s eyes flit about the room like the ceilings or walls will provide him with an answer that won’t piss Nagi off further.
“Your eyes speak louder than you do, treasure,” Reo told him once.
Nagi hopes that in this instance what they say can’t be misconstrued as anything other than, Choose your next words very carefully.
After a few more seconds, the fool’s gold dumbass finally manages to interpret the look, giving his brain some much needed exercise and connecting some very obvious dots.
And so, another soccer-for-brain bastard lives to see another day.
Whoopdidoo.
Kira swallows. That fake smile of his is starting to twitch at the corners like he’s not used to wearing it this long (Rookie. Reo could wear his fake smile around a crowd of nobodies for days) and then his eyes travel back to the screen.
A fake cough into his fist, an awkward hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck, and another loud swallow, Kira finally opens his mouth, “Ah… Would you look at that, I lost my train of thought.”
When Nagi says nothing, Kira once again rewinds the tape and hits play, letting the sounds take over again.
Nagi exhales. Call it, “the straw on the candle’s back” or however Zantetsu used to mess up the saying, because Nagi has had enough. His heart can only take so much and with nothing left to say, Nagi must bid this loser adieu. That, and if he stays here any longer, he might actually have to resort to violence.
Without a word, Nagi gets up and starts slinking towards the exit.
He could use a nap before afternoon drills anyway.
A few stragglers hang about the hallway, eyeing him wearily as he passes by and doing that stupid thing where they whisper too loudly when he gets a couple of steps away, conversations about “soccer this,” and “soccer that,” transforming into “Did you hear about Nagi?” and other shit Nagi is tired of hearing.
Footsteps from behind him close in quick and before Nagi can blink that stupid not-treasure is following behind him.
Great.
Without prompting, Kira begins blabbing about soccer and the match and training.
Wonderful.
Nagi feels his jaw clench involuntarily.
This motherfucker… And then it clicks. Nagi finally figures out yet another reason why he can’t stand him and that’s because Kira and Isagi must’ve been cut from the same aggravatingly dense, soccer-pilled nut job cloth.
No wonder they don’t like each other. Something about like sides repelling each other, Nagi huffs as he imagines magnets with their faces refusing to come close. They could totally never be a couple.
Wait… Nagi supposes if he looks really hard and squints and tilts his head and maybe turns the lights off then he can see it. Not because they deserve happiness, but because no one else should be subjected to their irritating selves aside from each other.
Nagi’s mind trails off as he walks aimlessly, Kira still talking his ear off.
If Nagi had to deal with another of himself, he thinks it wouldn’t be so bad. They’d probably just ignore each other.
Two Seishiros…
Two Seishiros but only one Reo… the possibilities, the things they could do…
But before Nagi can continue down that rabbit hole, he’s instead overtaken by a surge of white hot jealousy at having Reo’s divided attention instead of all of it. Worse if it’s another Nagi because then Nagi would have to see the way Reo spoils him.
Reo’s hands in someone else’s hair, Reo limousine for another, a different set of hands touching his treasure.
Nagi thinks he’s gonna be sick. Even if in this hypothetical scenario, it’s another version of himself.
As his thoughts begin to spiral, he can’t help but go back to the scene from before.
Team Blue Lock’s match against France isn’t imaginary. No, that match was very much real so try as he might to ignore it, it’s futile. A full game of this Hugo guy touching on Nagi’s light.
Nagi pulls his phone out, already searching the internet.
Curiosity killed the cat.
Nagi doesn’t really know what he expected. Maybe he just likes to torture himself because tell him why the feed on his super secret (not really) Reo fan account is already flooded with Reo moments from today’s game. Well, that he doesn’t really mind, what Nagi minds is the flood of “HuReo” moments (stupid name. NagiReo is superior), entire compilations consisting of anything and everything one might expect to find in a ship edit, video after video of that creep grabbing a handful of Reo’s chest like it belongs to him.
It’s when Nagi is only steps away from his designated room that Buratsuta’s annoying voice crackles over the intercom signaling the start of another day of grueling afternoon practice.
Great.
Nagi pockets his phone, but not before hitting post on his updated DNI list (DNI “HuReo” shippers).
With a final sigh, Nagi closes his eyes and conjures up the image of Reo’s smiling face and then turns around.
“We’re going to start by reviewing team Blue Lock Japan’s match against France,” Buratsuta’s voice says.
Clicking his tongue, Nagi heads back to the monitor room.
This day is just the pain-in-the-ass gift that keeps on giving.