Depressing little Eyeshield21 one-shot
Title: Foul Line
Summary: Eyeshield21, Implied HiruSena. Hiruma had a lot of enemies, but eventually, someone else was going to get a gun.
Rating: T for death, swearing.
Words: 2,060
Author's Note: Not particularly happy with much of anything I've been writing lately - been throwing a lot of stuff out. This probably isn't post-worthy either, but it's Eyeshield21, and there just isn't enough Eyeshield21 anything. Not much of a plot, just scribbling. Another tragic and depressing one, though. Hopefully once I'm through with my current project at work I'll have less need to vent in fiction format. :P
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Sena smiled and laughed with his friends around the bonfire. The last Deimon Devil Bats gathering - the last true Deimon Devil Bats gathering, in his mind. The team send-off for the stubborn trio of the second-years. Someone had spiked the punch, and hadn’t been very subtle about it, but Mamori was somehow oblivious and getting drunk with everyone else, all the while loudly commenting on the strange aftertaste of the fruity drink. Sena was still nursing his first cup - someone would need to make sure Mamori made it home okay, and it didn’t look like Monta was going to be up to walking soon, much less helping his crush home.
Dark brown eyes wandered over the gathering, even as he smiled at something Suzuna was saying in his general direction. The last time he had seen Hiruma he’d been cackling over the bowl of punch, camera clutched in his hands. That was the other reason why Sena was still on his first glass - he hardly needed to give the blond more blackmail to work with.
Still, it was odd the blond quarterback wasn’t present, if he really did plan on gathering blackmail material. Hiruma was known for wandering off on his own, but it didn’t seem right to the running back that their captain wasn’t there for their last celebration.
Taki was doing pirouettes around the fire, and had dragged Suzuna’s attention away from him. Monta was yammering, red-faced, in Mamori’s general direction - except she was actually holding a conversation with Yukimitsu and seemed totally unaware that she was ignoring the smitten receiver. The Ha-Ha brothers were in a circle off to the side, locked in a heated discussion. Kurita was blubbering - Musashi and Komusubi trying to comfort him. Doboruku-sensei had already drunk enough to pass out. The arrangement made for a familiar scene, in many ways.
No one would miss him for just a few minutes. Wearing a soft smile, Sena slipped away from the gathering, heading into the surrounding trees with a swiftness and grace borne from months of footwork training. He didn’t like his chances of finding their quarterback if he didn’t want to be found, but just a quick look wouldn’t hurt, right?
Away from the glow of the bonfire, it became difficult to see - it was a full moon, but the leafy canopy blocked most of the moonlight. Sena shuffled along the overgrown trail, stepping carefully to avoiding twisting his ankle. The laughter of his friends and the crackle of fire grew distant.
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, dark brown eyes straining in the darkness. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea - Mamori had assured them that the campground wasn’t known for hosting dangerous wildlife, but what if he got lost? And how was he supposed to find Hiruma in this light? He might not even be looking in the right direction!
His ears pricked then, as a series of familiar cracks echoed through the night.
Gunshots?
He must have been going in the right direction after all. Usually the most reliable way to find the quarterback was to follow the gunfire. Sena quickened his pace, a nervous grin tugging at the edges of his lips. Hopefully Hiruma wouldn’t mind being found. He’d know what his chances of getting the blond to rejoin the campfire were quickly enough - it would depend on whether he were greeted by bony fingers ruffling through his hair, or by a hail of bullets and insults.
There was the sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves ahead - Sena stopped, straining his ears. His heart leapt into his throat as he heard something thrashing through the undergrowth towards him. A bear?!
He was so paralysed by fright that he forgot to move, heart thudding in his ears and feet glued to the ground. There was no Shin on the mountain to save the day this time. What was he supposed to do?!
It wasn’t a bear that lumbered into view though - it wasn’t big enough. Sena relaxed. “Hiruma?”
No response. He squinted at the shadow, unable to make out any details other than a vague human outline. It didn’t sound like Hiruma. They were panting raggedly, and moving through the brush with a sort of clumsy urgency that didn’t suit the self-assured quarterback at all. And why wouldn’t Hiruma answer?
He moved quickly to put himself in front of the hulking silhouette. “Hiruma, is that you?” he tried again, just in case.
The shadow halted, but the rasping breaths kept going. Sena frowned. Definitely not Hiruma, and the others were all up at the bonfire. “Who are you?”
It happened so quickly. A blinding flash, a sharp bang. For one second, the haggard face of a man was illuminated; unfamiliar features contorted by panic.
Sena staggered, hand pressed against his side. It felt like he’d been punched. By Agon. Wearing brass knuckles. But that was ridiculous, because Agon was on the other side of Kanto.
“Who-” the timid running back tried again, but the figure suddenly shoved past, crashing through the undergrowth, veering to the left. Away from the bonfire. Sena lurched against a tree, letting out a gasp at the tearing pain in his side.
He pulled his hand away and stared at it. His palm was stained a dark crimson.
Very carefully, he put the hand back.
Unsteadily, he stepped forward. His side throbbed, and warm liquid seeped between his fingers. He took another step.
He’d been shot. And it wasn’t even by Hiruma. Who-?
It was too dark. He hadn’t recognised the face.
He staggered forward haphazardly, legs moving on automatic, even though every step brought a shallow gasp from his lips and sent a fresh wave of warmth over his fingers. The trees began to thin, giving him a little more moonlight to see by.
He was going away from the camp where the others were still celebrating. He could just barely hear the sounds of their merry-making in the distance - the gunshots, if they’d been heard, apparently hadn’t registered. And why would they? Gunshots were background noise in practice by now.
He needed help. He was losing a lot of blood. The wound should have hurt more, but his senses were dull. Maybe he was going into shock?
The thought of staggering all the way back to the bonfire though, and scaring his friends and making Mamori worry about him yet again… he didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want anyone to panic. Couldn’t stand the sight of their worried faces. Hadn’t he worked so hard so that no one would need to protect him or worry over him anymore?
He caught a flash of spiky blond hair out of the corner of his eye.
Hiruma. He’d finally found him. It looked like he was sitting down, leaning against a tree.
The brunet lurched in that direction, having to stop briefly to brace himself a burnt-out trunk. “Hiruma.” The name came out wet between his lips.
There was a pause, then a quiet, “Fucking shorty. What are you doing here?”
“I came looking for you.” He shuffled over to the quarterback. His earrings gave off a small silver glint on the moonlight.
“Fucking idiot. Shouldn’t have wasted your time. Go back to the others.”
Sena ignored him, chancing a glance away to observe the rest of the clearing. “Your laptop’s broken.” The screen was shattered, and the corner was broken off, exposing the motherboard inside.
“Shut up, fucking shorty. It doesn’t matter.”
If Hiruma said it didn’t matter, then he guessed it didn’t. “You shouldn’t just wander off on your own like this all the time. It’s supposed to be a team celebration. And you know, you’re the captain. We could never have made it to the Christmas Bowl without you. We want you there too. I want you there.” He was rambling a little, but couldn’t bring himself to stop.
There was a faint huff from Hiruma, but otherwise no response.
Why wasn’t Hiruma getting up?
His eyes wandered the ground. There was a growing pool of crimson there.
Oh. He hadn’t noticed the blood against the red team jersey. Same as his, actually.
He guessed it made sense. Hiruma had a lot of enemies. Eventually someone else was bound to get a gun.
Strange that he was being so philosophical about it. “You’re hurt.”
Hiruma’s voice was tight, and he still hadn’t looked at him. “I know, fucking shorty. It’s no big deal. I’ll come back in a while, got it? Now get lost.”
Sena shook his head mournfully. “I’d rather stay here with you. Um, if that’s okay.” It was a pretty bold statement for him, and he felt the need to retract it and apologise, but talking was kind of starting to hurt. He stumbled against the tree, and slid to the ground.
The quarterback finally turned to look at him, the whites of his eyes standing out like beacons in the darkness. Sena met the gaze as best he could, though his eyelids kept drooping.
“Fuck. Why did they have to get you too?” he mumbled, face contorted in a grimace. “Couldn’t have just stayed back… with the others.” Hiruma’s breath was getting sort of raspy, like he’d just sprinted the whole length of the football field with weights around his ankles.
“Sorry.”
“Shit…” The blond swore again. “It’s not fucking fair. He didn’t do anything, you fucking bastard!” The word echoed around the clearing with surprising vigour.
The brunet just tilted his head back against the tree, staring up at the stars. There were so many of them - more than he could ever hope to see at home.
Hiruma was fumbling with his phone - for a minute or so, the clearing was lit a dull green by the light of the screen. Sena rolled his head to the side to watch bony fingers clumsily handle the keypad, smudging it red. The awkward motions didn’t match the quarterback’s usual speed and efficiency with technology, and the phone slipped from his hand more than once.
“You’re going to call an ambulance?” he mumbled.
“I already called an ambulance, you think I’m stupid?”
“Oh. Aren’t they supposed to keep you on until…?”
Hiruma sighed, and Sena felt the other hand flop heavily on his hair, mussing up the spikes.
“I hung up.”
The question of ‘why’ was burning on Sena’s tongue, but he couldn’t bring the word to his lips. His side throbbed dully.
Another sigh, and the hand fell away. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff and laboured. “…It’s not going to make it in time. So I had to make sure that the bastard would pay.” The quarterback, apparently done, let the phone tumble to the ground for the last time, and a minute later the screen went dark.
Hiruma remained brutally honest with him to the end. Sena shrank in on himself a little. He kind of already suspected. That was why he was here now, instead of back up at the bonfire. It wasn’t just scaring the girls. He would have still gone back, if he thought there was a point. He knew his body best, after all.
It didn’t stop the tears from pricking his eyes. He was scared.
“…Sorry, shorty.”
He shook his head slightly, though the movement was probably too small for the blond to see it in the night. He slid to the side, so that his shoulder was touching the quarterback’s arm.
It was the first time he’d ever heard Hiruma Yoichi honestly apologise.
He was scared, but Hiruma was there, and it was hard to be scared of anything other than Hiruma when the blond was around. They’d made it to the Christmas Bowl. He’d proven that he wasn’t a little kid that needed to be protected and coddled anymore.
“Hey, Hiruma. You know I-”
“Yeah, shorty. I know.”
The world looked sort of fuzzy - he couldn’t pick the stars out in the sky anymore. It was cold. Sena leaned a little closer to Hiruma, but he was getting sort of cold too.
They sat there in silence underneath the tree as the moon rose further into the sky. Soon all Sena could hear was Hiruma’s shallow breathing and the irregular thump of his heart.
A while after that, he couldn’t hear anything at all.
Summary: Eyeshield21, Implied HiruSena. Hiruma had a lot of enemies, but eventually, someone else was going to get a gun.
Rating: T for death, swearing.
Words: 2,060
Author's Note: Not particularly happy with much of anything I've been writing lately - been throwing a lot of stuff out. This probably isn't post-worthy either, but it's Eyeshield21, and there just isn't enough Eyeshield21 anything. Not much of a plot, just scribbling. Another tragic and depressing one, though. Hopefully once I'm through with my current project at work I'll have less need to vent in fiction format. :P
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Sena smiled and laughed with his friends around the bonfire. The last Deimon Devil Bats gathering - the last true Deimon Devil Bats gathering, in his mind. The team send-off for the stubborn trio of the second-years. Someone had spiked the punch, and hadn’t been very subtle about it, but Mamori was somehow oblivious and getting drunk with everyone else, all the while loudly commenting on the strange aftertaste of the fruity drink. Sena was still nursing his first cup - someone would need to make sure Mamori made it home okay, and it didn’t look like Monta was going to be up to walking soon, much less helping his crush home.
Dark brown eyes wandered over the gathering, even as he smiled at something Suzuna was saying in his general direction. The last time he had seen Hiruma he’d been cackling over the bowl of punch, camera clutched in his hands. That was the other reason why Sena was still on his first glass - he hardly needed to give the blond more blackmail to work with.
Still, it was odd the blond quarterback wasn’t present, if he really did plan on gathering blackmail material. Hiruma was known for wandering off on his own, but it didn’t seem right to the running back that their captain wasn’t there for their last celebration.
Taki was doing pirouettes around the fire, and had dragged Suzuna’s attention away from him. Monta was yammering, red-faced, in Mamori’s general direction - except she was actually holding a conversation with Yukimitsu and seemed totally unaware that she was ignoring the smitten receiver. The Ha-Ha brothers were in a circle off to the side, locked in a heated discussion. Kurita was blubbering - Musashi and Komusubi trying to comfort him. Doboruku-sensei had already drunk enough to pass out. The arrangement made for a familiar scene, in many ways.
No one would miss him for just a few minutes. Wearing a soft smile, Sena slipped away from the gathering, heading into the surrounding trees with a swiftness and grace borne from months of footwork training. He didn’t like his chances of finding their quarterback if he didn’t want to be found, but just a quick look wouldn’t hurt, right?
Away from the glow of the bonfire, it became difficult to see - it was a full moon, but the leafy canopy blocked most of the moonlight. Sena shuffled along the overgrown trail, stepping carefully to avoiding twisting his ankle. The laughter of his friends and the crackle of fire grew distant.
He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, dark brown eyes straining in the darkness. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea - Mamori had assured them that the campground wasn’t known for hosting dangerous wildlife, but what if he got lost? And how was he supposed to find Hiruma in this light? He might not even be looking in the right direction!
His ears pricked then, as a series of familiar cracks echoed through the night.
Gunshots?
He must have been going in the right direction after all. Usually the most reliable way to find the quarterback was to follow the gunfire. Sena quickened his pace, a nervous grin tugging at the edges of his lips. Hopefully Hiruma wouldn’t mind being found. He’d know what his chances of getting the blond to rejoin the campfire were quickly enough - it would depend on whether he were greeted by bony fingers ruffling through his hair, or by a hail of bullets and insults.
There was the sound of snapping twigs and rustling leaves ahead - Sena stopped, straining his ears. His heart leapt into his throat as he heard something thrashing through the undergrowth towards him. A bear?!
He was so paralysed by fright that he forgot to move, heart thudding in his ears and feet glued to the ground. There was no Shin on the mountain to save the day this time. What was he supposed to do?!
It wasn’t a bear that lumbered into view though - it wasn’t big enough. Sena relaxed. “Hiruma?”
No response. He squinted at the shadow, unable to make out any details other than a vague human outline. It didn’t sound like Hiruma. They were panting raggedly, and moving through the brush with a sort of clumsy urgency that didn’t suit the self-assured quarterback at all. And why wouldn’t Hiruma answer?
He moved quickly to put himself in front of the hulking silhouette. “Hiruma, is that you?” he tried again, just in case.
The shadow halted, but the rasping breaths kept going. Sena frowned. Definitely not Hiruma, and the others were all up at the bonfire. “Who are you?”
It happened so quickly. A blinding flash, a sharp bang. For one second, the haggard face of a man was illuminated; unfamiliar features contorted by panic.
Sena staggered, hand pressed against his side. It felt like he’d been punched. By Agon. Wearing brass knuckles. But that was ridiculous, because Agon was on the other side of Kanto.
“Who-” the timid running back tried again, but the figure suddenly shoved past, crashing through the undergrowth, veering to the left. Away from the bonfire. Sena lurched against a tree, letting out a gasp at the tearing pain in his side.
He pulled his hand away and stared at it. His palm was stained a dark crimson.
Very carefully, he put the hand back.
Unsteadily, he stepped forward. His side throbbed, and warm liquid seeped between his fingers. He took another step.
He’d been shot. And it wasn’t even by Hiruma. Who-?
It was too dark. He hadn’t recognised the face.
He staggered forward haphazardly, legs moving on automatic, even though every step brought a shallow gasp from his lips and sent a fresh wave of warmth over his fingers. The trees began to thin, giving him a little more moonlight to see by.
He was going away from the camp where the others were still celebrating. He could just barely hear the sounds of their merry-making in the distance - the gunshots, if they’d been heard, apparently hadn’t registered. And why would they? Gunshots were background noise in practice by now.
He needed help. He was losing a lot of blood. The wound should have hurt more, but his senses were dull. Maybe he was going into shock?
The thought of staggering all the way back to the bonfire though, and scaring his friends and making Mamori worry about him yet again… he didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want anyone to panic. Couldn’t stand the sight of their worried faces. Hadn’t he worked so hard so that no one would need to protect him or worry over him anymore?
He caught a flash of spiky blond hair out of the corner of his eye.
Hiruma. He’d finally found him. It looked like he was sitting down, leaning against a tree.
The brunet lurched in that direction, having to stop briefly to brace himself a burnt-out trunk. “Hiruma.” The name came out wet between his lips.
There was a pause, then a quiet, “Fucking shorty. What are you doing here?”
“I came looking for you.” He shuffled over to the quarterback. His earrings gave off a small silver glint on the moonlight.
“Fucking idiot. Shouldn’t have wasted your time. Go back to the others.”
Sena ignored him, chancing a glance away to observe the rest of the clearing. “Your laptop’s broken.” The screen was shattered, and the corner was broken off, exposing the motherboard inside.
“Shut up, fucking shorty. It doesn’t matter.”
If Hiruma said it didn’t matter, then he guessed it didn’t. “You shouldn’t just wander off on your own like this all the time. It’s supposed to be a team celebration. And you know, you’re the captain. We could never have made it to the Christmas Bowl without you. We want you there too. I want you there.” He was rambling a little, but couldn’t bring himself to stop.
There was a faint huff from Hiruma, but otherwise no response.
Why wasn’t Hiruma getting up?
His eyes wandered the ground. There was a growing pool of crimson there.
Oh. He hadn’t noticed the blood against the red team jersey. Same as his, actually.
He guessed it made sense. Hiruma had a lot of enemies. Eventually someone else was bound to get a gun.
Strange that he was being so philosophical about it. “You’re hurt.”
Hiruma’s voice was tight, and he still hadn’t looked at him. “I know, fucking shorty. It’s no big deal. I’ll come back in a while, got it? Now get lost.”
Sena shook his head mournfully. “I’d rather stay here with you. Um, if that’s okay.” It was a pretty bold statement for him, and he felt the need to retract it and apologise, but talking was kind of starting to hurt. He stumbled against the tree, and slid to the ground.
The quarterback finally turned to look at him, the whites of his eyes standing out like beacons in the darkness. Sena met the gaze as best he could, though his eyelids kept drooping.
“Fuck. Why did they have to get you too?” he mumbled, face contorted in a grimace. “Couldn’t have just stayed back… with the others.” Hiruma’s breath was getting sort of raspy, like he’d just sprinted the whole length of the football field with weights around his ankles.
“Sorry.”
“Shit…” The blond swore again. “It’s not fucking fair. He didn’t do anything, you fucking bastard!” The word echoed around the clearing with surprising vigour.
The brunet just tilted his head back against the tree, staring up at the stars. There were so many of them - more than he could ever hope to see at home.
Hiruma was fumbling with his phone - for a minute or so, the clearing was lit a dull green by the light of the screen. Sena rolled his head to the side to watch bony fingers clumsily handle the keypad, smudging it red. The awkward motions didn’t match the quarterback’s usual speed and efficiency with technology, and the phone slipped from his hand more than once.
“You’re going to call an ambulance?” he mumbled.
“I already called an ambulance, you think I’m stupid?”
“Oh. Aren’t they supposed to keep you on until…?”
Hiruma sighed, and Sena felt the other hand flop heavily on his hair, mussing up the spikes.
“I hung up.”
The question of ‘why’ was burning on Sena’s tongue, but he couldn’t bring the word to his lips. His side throbbed dully.
Another sigh, and the hand fell away. When he spoke again, his voice was gruff and laboured. “…It’s not going to make it in time. So I had to make sure that the bastard would pay.” The quarterback, apparently done, let the phone tumble to the ground for the last time, and a minute later the screen went dark.
Hiruma remained brutally honest with him to the end. Sena shrank in on himself a little. He kind of already suspected. That was why he was here now, instead of back up at the bonfire. It wasn’t just scaring the girls. He would have still gone back, if he thought there was a point. He knew his body best, after all.
It didn’t stop the tears from pricking his eyes. He was scared.
“…Sorry, shorty.”
He shook his head slightly, though the movement was probably too small for the blond to see it in the night. He slid to the side, so that his shoulder was touching the quarterback’s arm.
It was the first time he’d ever heard Hiruma Yoichi honestly apologise.
He was scared, but Hiruma was there, and it was hard to be scared of anything other than Hiruma when the blond was around. They’d made it to the Christmas Bowl. He’d proven that he wasn’t a little kid that needed to be protected and coddled anymore.
“Hey, Hiruma. You know I-”
“Yeah, shorty. I know.”
The world looked sort of fuzzy - he couldn’t pick the stars out in the sky anymore. It was cold. Sena leaned a little closer to Hiruma, but he was getting sort of cold too.
They sat there in silence underneath the tree as the moon rose further into the sky. Soon all Sena could hear was Hiruma’s shallow breathing and the irregular thump of his heart.
A while after that, he couldn’t hear anything at all.