Losing you, what a nightmare that would be.

Reo's hand, hesitant at first, then more confident, closed around your own, entwining your fingers and squeezing gently. You didn't pull away.

His parents didn't like you. Nor soccer. In their opinion, Reo's dream of pursuing soccer was pure foolishness, something he should stop, avoid, for his own good. You, to them, were just another bad influence on their precious golden boy, dragging him further away from his purpose.

But Reo was persistent. Wherever you went, he would, too. If you chose to wander the whole word aimlessly, then he'd just follow after you with a smile on his face. No regrets. "One day, all of Japan will know our names." He grinned, giving your hand another firm squeeze.

All of Japan. If anything, Reo wanted to win the World Cup with you. It seemed pointless, useless to him if you weren't there to celebrate with him. He didn't want to win alone. He wanted Japan to chant both your names, not just his.

Reo leaned back, the grass tickling his spread arms and cheeks as he glanced up at the clouds. Golden light cascaded over his face, warm and inviting while your shadow provided the perfect shade for him to rest in. He didn't care if he acted like a silly boy, if this dream of his had the potential to ruin his life, his reputation. Because he'd be damned if he let it go. If he let you go.

Soon, they'd see what you two were capable of. A roaring crowd, a large stadium, your names in the headline of every new article next day. Soon.