Archive of Our Own ^beta

Some people are born special.

Reo Mikage is one of them.

He realized this early on, and it felt like the best thing ever. Everyone liked him. He got what he wanted. His parents gave him anything he asked for. It was the kind of privilege most people could only dream of—but for him, it was normal. A life on easy mode.

It wasn’t until later that he started noticing something was… off.

The first real crack appeared in elementary school, when his teacher confessed to him.

Life wasn’t easy for him solely because he’s rich; it’s also because he has a good head on his shoulders. He was smart enough to know how messed up the entire ordeal was from the start, but the reason she gave was what stuck with him most.

“It’s your eyes, Reo-kun,” she had said then with a wide smile. “They’re so beautiful, like the ocean and the skies.”

She was creepy and, most importantly, behind bars now, thanks to Reo reporting the incident. But here’s the thing—

His eyes aren’t blue.

That was the first real clue, the corner piece he needed to start building the puzzle of what the hell was going on.

Then came the other comments.

“Master Reo, since when did you cut your hair?”

“Reo-kun! The mole under your eye makes you look so cool!”

“Our son got my eyes, but his nose is from his mother.”

They all saw something different, and nobody questioned it. If the butler asked the maid to prep a haircut and the maid replied it’s already short, he’d just say “oh” and move on.

It was bizarre, but it didn’t stop there. Reo discovered something even worse.

People listened to him.

It was not just in the spoiled-rich-kid way; people really listened. Bent to him. Followed his voice like a compass. He didn’t even have to try. If he casually muttered in class that he should be president, everyone would vote for him.

Was it because he was a Mikage? Maybe. But the effect was too precise. Too uncanny.

So, he started calling it what it was: a curse.

The curse shaped his life through middle school and into high school, where it still worked, even on someone who had no motivation at all. Someone who grumbled but followed, joining him at that strange training facility because Reo nudged him a little with his voice.

Soccer became the one thing Reo could do without relying on his powers, a game of skill and strategy. His parents had no objections—of course, they didn’t, not with the curse they blessed him with.

The night before he entered Blue Lock, Reo stared at his reflection, wondering what it meant to be real.

Blue Lock is something that shouldn’t exist. A battle royale made up entirely of self-absorbed strikers?

Normally impossible, but here, it somehow worked.

At this point in life, Reo has trained himself to speak carefully, to pause and weigh his words. Even when something slipped, most of the players here are egotistic enough to resist his influence. It’s oddly comforting, being surrounded by people too self-absorbed to be completely manipulated. Not that they stand a chance if Reo truly wanted to command them, of course.

When Nagi leaves him to join Isagi’s team, it hurts, but strangely, it’s also… freeing.

Because Reo hadn’t been able to stop him. He hadn’t been able to influence Nagi’s choice. He didn’t.

But when they face each other on opposite teams later, the sting flares up again. In the heat of the game, when adrenaline erases caution, Reo loses control.

“Stand down,” he snaps at Isagi. “I’m getting Nagi back.”

He regrets it immediately. That phrasing—it was too imperative. Too direct. He hadn’t meant to say it like that.

But Isagi just glares at him, eyes blazing, and tells him to fuck off before sprinting after the ball.

Normally impossible, but here, his curse somehow didn’t work.

Instead of being the one casting it, Reo feels like he’s the one being pulled in, especially when Isagi tells him to become someone who chooses rather than being chosen.

Reo’s interest is piqued, and it only grows from there.

Reo finds the opportunity to test things in the monitoring room, where he finds Isagi watching the replays of the matches as he considers the team to choose for the Third Selection.

After making his presence known, Reo sits beside him on the floor, and they talk about the teams. Reo tests things—dropping hints, subtly shifting the conversation.

Then, just to see, he tries his curse again. “You feel like standing up and leaving the room now, right?”

Isagi pauses.

Did it work?

Usually, people don’t even notice when they’re being nudged. That’s what makes it terrifying. It’s invisible. Subtle, not like those blank faces he’s seen on the mind control shows.

But since it’s Isagi, who didn’t seem to have been affected before, maybe the effect is different…?

No. Isagi looks at him like he does when he’s reading the whole field, watching every play.

“What are you doing?” Isagi asks, not unkindly.

The words slip out of Reo before he can stop them. “If I told you I can make people do what I want just by saying it, would you believe me?”

“…Is this, like, a humble brag because you’re a Mikage or something?”

Reo bursts out laughing—an honest, startled kind of laugh. He can’t remember the last time he did that. Isagi’s confused expression, so different from his on-field intensity, makes everything feel absurd.

And still, Reo keeps talking. He explains everything. His appearance. His voice. His curse. His whole damn life.

Halfway through, he panics because why is he saying this? Is he the one under a spell? Why the hell is he sharing his life story? Is it because Isagi seems immune? Because he actually listens?

Should he command Isagi to forget? If Reo tries harder, maybe it will work—

“Then I think you’re amazing.”

Reo blinks. “…Huh?”

“You could do anything with that kind of power.” Isagi sits straighter, cupping his cheek as if explaining their next strategy. “But instead, you’re here, playing fair and pushing yourself.” A faint smile. “That’s admirable.”

As Reo picks his jaw off the floor and tries to comprehend Isagi’s sentences so he can create his own for some semblance of a reply, Isagi continues, “I want to prove myself too, so I know who I’m choosing.”

He circles a team on his card, then grins. “Thanks for sharing that, Reo. I’ve found my resolve because of you.”

“I… didn’t do anything.”

“More than making the right choice, which is impossible to know anyway, I think it’s important to make your choice the right one. If you’re given the choice and not being mind controlled or something anyway.” Isagi winks.

He’s not treating this seriously, isn’t he? He doesn’t realize the heaviness of this ability, doesn’t realize how grave it is…

Or maybe it’s not that serious, after all?

When Isagi gets up, Reo finally gets his bearings enough to at least say, “See you later, Isagi.”

“See you on the field,” Isagi replies.

Still only thinking of soccer, huh?

As he heads for the door, Isagi tosses over his shoulder, “By the way, for what it’s worth… I’m seeing purple hair and eyes.”

Isagi waves and leaves.

Reo stares at the closed door, stunned.

Purple.

He said the right color.

If he’s immune to his curse, then could it be that…

When’s the last time anyone actually saw me?

No. Just what the hell is up with Isagi’s eyes?

It takes a while until Reo gets the chance again to talk with Isagi alone, the opportunity presenting itself during their break. They were both busy training for the match against Japan’s U-20, and Reo couldn’t let anything else distract him after finding a new weapon to fight with.

Of course, their new poster boy had no time for anything other than soccer, too. They’re not that close anyway, so it’s not like they’ve been hanging out in the cafeteria or something.

But that’s why Reo made sure to invite Isagi for dinner. He picks a fancy place: private rooms, quiet ambiance, discreet service. Isagi wrinkles his nose at it and leads him to a different place instead. They end up somewhere quieter. Casual, but still private.

“Remember when I told you about my abilities?” Reo asks once they’re seated.

In response to Isagi’s raised brow, Reo turns to the server. “It’d be nice if you complimented my eyes twice whenever you come back.”

She smiles and tells them that she will be back to take their orders.

After browsing the menu and deciding on which ones to pick, the server comes back after a few minutes.

“You have beautiful green eyes, sir. You have beautiful green eyes, sir.” She bows. “Are you ready to take your orders?”

Reo tells her their orders, and after another polite bow, she leaves. When they’re left alone, Reo stares at Isagi, waiting with bated breath. Isagi picked this location, so he can’t say that Reo organized this beforehand. The server couldn’t have known him, and there was not a hint of embarrassment when she did it.

Isagi opens his mouth. “This could be a manga. You’re too OP.”

???

Isagi leans forward. “So, why show me? You already told me.”

“I wanted to prove—”

“And here I thought you invited me to confess.”

Reo chokes. “What?!”

“I’ll do it first, then.” Isagi tilts his head. “I like you, Reo. Want to go out with me?”

Reo’s brain short-circuits. “No way.”

“Who are you to tell me how I feel?”

“Exactly!” Reo covers his face. “Maybe my powers worked on you and I didn’t even notice—”

“I doubt it. You don’t even talk to me that much. Did you ever say, ‘Hey Isagi, make sure you like me and confess when we meet?’ or something?”

Obviously not, but before Reo can argue some more, the doors slide open as the server from earlier arrives with their food.

“Pretty blue eyes, sir,” the server says as she sets down their food. “Pretty blue eyes, sir.”

Isagi stares at his eyes as if to double check, then shrugs and mouths, “It’s still purple to me though?”

Reo clears his throat.

“Take your time,” Isagi says after the server leaves. “I’m not forcing an answer. I don’t have your abilities.”

He smirks teasingly before it morphs to a smaller, genuine smile. “I’ll make sure this doesn’t affect my play, but if you turn me down, you better be ready to prove it was the right choice.”

It’s not a good idea, no way at all… but Reo can’t bring himself to disagree.