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The afternoon sun filtered through the gym windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor where Nagi Seishiro sat slumped against the wall, his white hair falling into his eyes. Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but he hadn't moved an inch, his long legs stretched out in front of him like he'd melted into the floor itself.
"Nagi, we need to go," Reo called from across the gym, already changed and shouldering both their bags with practiced ease. "The convenience store closes early on Tuesdays, remember?"
"Mmm... too tired," Nagi mumbled, not even bothering to open his eyes fully. His fingers twitched toward his phone lying beside him, but even that seemed like too much effort. "Carry me, Reo."
Reo laughed, the sound echoing in the empty gym as he walked over. "You're impossible, you know that?" But he was already crouching down, positioning himself for the inevitable piggyback ride. This had become their routine—Nagi would declare himself too exhausted to walk, and Reo would indulge him, every single time.
"I know," Nagi said simply, starting to shift forward to climb onto Reo's back.
But this time, something mischievous flickered in Reo's violet eyes.
"Actually," Reo said, standing up abruptly and turning to face Nagi with a grin that could only be described as playfully wicked, "I think it's time you learned what it's like to be the one doing the carrying."
Nagi blinked slowly, processing this information with the speed of continental drift. "Huh?"
"You heard me." Reo dropped their bags and before Nagi could even think about protesting—not that he would, protesting required effort—Reo had stepped forward, swung one leg over Nagi's lap, and settled himself down facing Nagi, his thighs bracketing Nagi's hips.
Nagi stared up at Reo, who was now slightly above him even though Nagi was taller, their faces suddenly much closer than usual. Reo's knees pressed against the gym floor on either side of Nagi's legs, his weight settled comfortably on Nagi's lap. The purple-haired boy had his hands on Nagi's shoulders, leaning back slightly with that same cheeky grin plastered across his face.
Nagi subconsciously swallowed.
"There," Reo announced proudly, looking way too pleased with himself. "Now stand up and carry me. Fair's fair, right? Let's see how you like it."
"This isn't a piggyback," Nagi observed with his typical blunt honesty, his pale eyes fixed on Reo's face.
"Nope! It's better. This way I can see if you actually struggle for once." Reo's grin widened, boyish and challenging. "Come on, Nagi. I've carried you at least fifty times in the past five months. Surely the great genius can manage once?"
There was a challenge in those words, playful and teasing. Nagi didn't usually rise to challenges—they required too much effort—but something about this situation was different.
Maybe it was the weight of Reo on his lap, solid and real.
Maybe it was the way Reo's eyes sparkled with that competitive gleam.
Or maybe Nagi just wanted to see what Reo's face would do.
Without a word, Nagi placed his hands under Reo's thighs.
"Oh? Did I hit a nerve? Haha, you don't have to force yourself if it's too mu—"
Nagi stood up.
It was fluid, effortless, like he was simply rising from a chair instead of lifting another person who was nearly as tall as he was. His hands remained steady on Reo, holding him securely as Nagi straightened to his full height. Reo's legs instinctively wrapped around Nagi's waist, his arms flying up to circle Nagi's neck as he let out a startled yelp.
"Nagi!"
"You said to stand up," Nagi said reasonably, his voice as monotone as ever, even as he adjusted his grip, his large hands spanning Reo's lower back. "So I did."
Reo stared at him, eyes wide with genuine shock. They were face to face now, Reo's position giving him just a slight height advantage for once. This close, Nagi could see the way surprise had completely taken over Reo's expression.
"You... you just..." Reo seemed to struggle with words, which was unusual for him. Usually Reo had plenty to say. "You picked me up like I weigh nothing!"
"You don't," Nagi said simply.
"I'm 185 centimeters tall, Nagi! I'm not exactly light!" Reo's voice had gone up slightly in pitch. His arms were still wrapped around Nagi's neck, probably because he'd grabbed on instinctively and hadn't thought to let go yet. "You don't exercise, you're lazy, off field you move slower than a sloth—"
"Reo..."
"You make me carry you everywhere, and now you're just—you didn't even struggle!"
"Why would I struggle?" Nagi tilted his head slightly, genuinely confused by Reo's reaction. "You're not heavy. And I'm strong enough."
"But you never—" Reo paused, his expression shifting from shocked to something more contemplative. His grip around Nagi's neck loosened slightly, though he didn't let go. "You never offer to carry anything. Or do anything physical unless it's soccer."
"That's different," Nagi said, starting to walk toward their bags. Reo bounced slightly with each step, but Nagi's hold remained steady. "Soccer requires running around. This is just standing."
"You're literally walking right now while carrying a full-grown person!"
"Mmm." Nagi considered this. "I guess. But it's not a hassle."
And that was the truth of it, Nagi realized as he bent down—carefully, making sure Reo didn't slide—to pick up their bags with one hand while keeping the other secured under Reo. It wasn't a hassle at all. Most things were a hassle. Moving was a hassle. Thinking too hard was a hassle. But this? Carrying Reo like this?
It was kind of nice, actually.
Reo had gone quiet, which was unusual. When Nagi glanced at his face, he found Reo staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. There was something soft in those violet eyes, something that made Nagi's chest feel weird.
"What?" Nagi asked.
"Nothing," Reo said quickly, then smiled—not his usual confident grin, but something smaller, more genuine. "Just... thank you."
"For what?"
"For carrying me, I guess." Reo's laugh was quieter this time. "Even though I was kind of teasing you about it."
"You always do things for me," Nagi said matter-of-factly as he headed toward the gym exit. "Carrying you once isn't a big deal."
But even as he said it, Nagi found himself thinking that maybe it was a big deal, just a little bit. Because the look on Reo's face right now—that soft, surprised happiness—was something Nagi thought he wouldn't mind seeing more often.
"Nagi?" Reo's voice was softer now, almost hesitant.
"Yeah?"
"You can put me down now. If you want."
Nagi considered this as he pushed through the gym doors into the late afternoon air. The sun was warm on his face, and Reo was warm in his arms, and the walk to the convenience store wasn't really that far.
"Nah," Nagi said simply. "Too much effort."
Reo laughed, surprised and delighted, and the sound made something in Nagi's chest feel lighter. Reo's arms tightened around his neck, not restricting, just... comfortable. Like he belonged there.
"You're impossible," Reo said, but there was no real complaint in it.
"I know," Nagi replied, echoing his words from earlier. And then, because Reo's face was right there and the words came easier than usual: "But you like it."
Reo's ears turned red, visible even in the golden afternoon light. "Maybe I do," he admitted quietly.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, Nagi carrying Reo with the same effortless ease he'd use to carry his phone or his bag. It occurred to him, distantly, that he should probably be tired. That his arms should be aching, or his back should be complaining, or something should feel like the usual hassle that everything else in life felt like.
But it didn't.
Carrying Reo felt as natural as breathing. As natural as trapping a ball or finding the perfect angle for a shot. It was just something his body knew how to do, something that didn't require thought or effort or motivation.
"Hey, Nagi?" Reo said as they approached the convenience store.
"If I asked you to carry me home after this... would you?"
Nagi didn't even have to think about it. "Yeah."
"Even though it's a twenty-minute walk?"
"Yeah."
"Even though I'm perfectly capable of walking myself?"
"Yeah." Nagi paused, then added with his usual blunt honesty: "Wouldn't mind carrying you more often, actually. If you want."
Reo went very still in his arms. When Nagi looked at him, Reo's expression was doing something complicated—surprise and happiness and something else Nagi couldn't quite name but that made his chest do that weird warm thing again.
"Yeah?" Reo asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," Nagi confirmed. "It's not a hassle. And..." He struggled for the right words, unused to explaining feelings that usually stayed comfortably unexamined in the back of his mind. "Your face looks good when you smile like that. Makes it worth it."
Reo made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh or might have been something else entirely. He buried his face against Nagi's shoulder, his whole body shaking slightly.
"You can't just say things like that," Reo's muffled voice came from somewhere near Nagi's collarbone.
"Why not? It's true."
"That's exactly why!"
Nagi didn't really understand what Reo meant, but that was okay. He was used to not understanding things about Reo, about people in general. What he did understand was this: Reo was happy. Reo felt cared for. And Nagi had done that, just by picking him up and refusing to put him down.
Maybe that was enough.
"Come on," Nagi said, adjusting his grip and heading into the store. "Let's get food. I'm hungry."
"You're always hungry," Reo said, but he'd lifted his head and was smiling again, soft and genuine.
"And you always feed me," Nagi pointed out. "So it works out."
"I guess it does," Reo agreed, and there was something in his voice—contentment, maybe, or satisfaction, or just plain happiness. "Yeah. I guess it really does."
As Nagi carried Reo through the aisles of the convenience store, completely ignoring the stares from other customers, he thought about how five months ago his life had been nothing but hassle and boredom. Everything had been too much effort, too pointless, too dull.
Then Reo had appeared with his princely smile and his genuine enthusiasm and his absolute certainty that Nagi was worth the investment. Reo carried him places, bought him food, dragged him to practice, and never once made it feel like a burden.
And now, Nagi realized, he could do the same thing. He could carry Reo. He could see that surprised, happy expression. He could make Reo feel the way Reo made him feel—like he mattered, like he was wanted, like someone was willing to put in the effort.
It wasn't a hassle at all.
Actually, Nagi thought as Reo pointed out his favorite drink and Nagi grabbed it with his free hand, it might be the easiest thing he'd ever done.