Fraught (Eyeshield 21, Hiruma/Mamori)

[anenko]

Title: Fraught
Author: anenko
Rating: PG13
Warnings: Dorky humour?
Prompt: June 14 - Eyeshield 21, Yoichi Hiruma/Mamori Anezaki: Valentine's day - a different way of saying 'I love you'.



Valentine’s Day was fraught with danger at the best of times. The day took on a truly ominous edge at Deimon High School. Potential sweethearts trembled in terror at the thought of being seen or overheard by the school’s resident tyrant. Every chocolate offered and accepted became the source of potential blackmail material.

As a result, Valentine’s Day was a subdued and furtive affair at Deimon.

The Devil Bats held out very little hope for chocolate. It would take a brave (or incredibly foolish) girl to venture into Hiruma’s territory with chocolate in hand, and love on her mind. And so Mamori’s arrival at the clubhouse--with neatly packed and beribboned chocolate (homemade)--was met with greater enthusiasm than she was prepared for.

Mamori was saved from being swarmed by pathetically grateful, chocolate-starved football players by the sound of a shotgun going off. Hiruma strode through the smoking remains of the door, gun ready at his side. “That’s ten laps around the school for every chocolate you eat,” he said.

Kurita eyed the chocolates with deep longing. The other boys gulped and shifted uneasily. Mamori’s chocolates were, if one were inclined to be poetic, a small taste of heaven. Hiruma, however, was more than willing to send any one of the Devil Bats to hell. His smile suggested that he was greatly anticipating any reason to do just that.

“I’m sure that Hiruma meant,” Mamori said, “that you can all enjoy your chocolates once practice is over.”

Hiruma turned his pointed smile towards Mamori. “I’m sure that the fucking manager knows better than to speak for me.”

Mamori frowned. “And I’m sure that even Hiruma wouldn’t want to ruin such a special day for everyone.”

They glared at each other over the (tragically) still unopened chocolates. Hiruma’s finger twitched against the trigger of his gun. Mamori’s hands tightened around the handle of the broom she’d automatically reached for at Hiruma’s appearance. Lesser chocolate than Mamori’s would have melted under the heat of the glares Hiruma and Mamori traded.

“I bet,” Sena said, voice shrill with nerves, “that the chocolate will taste even better after practice!”

Mamori was willing to concede victory in their staring match to Hiruma so that she could beam proudly at Sena.

“Mamori’s chocolate will be our reward after a hard day’s work!” Monta agreed, blushing at the thought of Mamori, and chocolate, and Mamori making chocolate for him.

“Stop talking and start running,” Hiruma snapped.

Mamori smiled kindly. “Don’t be upset. I have something special for you too, Hiruma.”

Hiruma snorted. “Don’t do me any favours,” he said.

(Yukimitsu, having noticed that there were no chocolates addressed to Hiruma, wisely kept any questions he may have had to himself. He shaved several seconds from his running time that day in his hurry to escape the clubroom).

Hiruma, being the very definition of sadistic and spiteful, kept the team out extra late. They came limping back to the clubhouse hours later, dirty and ragged and too drained to do more than tuck their chocolates into their backpacks. Mamori waved as the Devil Bats staggered away into the evening, encouraging smile firmly fixed in place.

“You,” she said, “are truly awful.”

“You,” Hiruma said, “shouldn’t have brought chocolates into my clubhouse without permission.”

Mamori mercilessly swept away the last of the dust motes clinging to life in front of the door. Dust vanquished, she turned to face a rather more significant foe.

“I’m not sure you deserve a Valentine’s gift, considering your negative attitude,” she said.

“I don’t want any of that sugary crap,” Hiruma said.

Mamori sniffed. “I know better than to make you chocolate. This is something special. Something I’m not about to offer you again.”

“The curiosity is killing me,” Hiruma said flatly. “There’s nothing about this fucking ridiculous excuse for a holiday that interests me. Stop wasting my time and--”

With apologies to her good conscience, Mamori set aside all good manners and leaned in towards Hiruma. While her hands were demurely clasped before her, Mamori’s mouth was so close to Hiruma’s ear that she could have turned and brushed her lips across his cheekbone.

She had been thinking about Hiruma’s Valentine’s gift for some time, and had decided that nothing else could possibly do justice to him. Mamori drew in a deep breath and all of her courage, and said: “fuck.”

Hiruma rocked back to look at Mamori. His eyes were wide with delight, his grin as sharp as she’d ever seen it. “Isn’t that something,” he said, cackling.

“Don’t expect a repeat performance,” Mamori said. Her face was hot. The word certainly had oomph, but making chocolate left Mamori considerably less flustered.

Hiruma’s grin widened. His pointed teeth gleamed. His eyes shone. He was terrifying in all the ways he most certainly should not have been.

“I’ll make you shout it,” he said.

She believed him. Oh, she did. Mamori swallowed, and gathered her wits before they could scatter any further. “Maybe next Valentine’s Day,” she said.

“Why wait?” Hiruma said.

--end