One Step Forward(Hiruma x Mamori, Eyeshield 21 #20)
Theme 20: The Road Home
Mamori x Hiruma
Hiruma was the kind of guy who was always moving forward. He didn’t believe in looking back at what was lost, or what he could have had. I remember, when the Devil Bats lost their second game to the Ojo White Knights are were eliminated from the Spring tournament, not one tear was shed by Hiruma.
Not that Hiruma was one to cry. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that Hiruma immediately began plans for the Devil Bat’s future, instead of lamenting on the past. In contrast, when the Devil Bats won against, say, the Zokugaku Chameleons, Hiruma didn’t revel in the victory either. He knew his next step, and he went for it. That’s the kind of person Hiruma was.
I think that’s how our relationship was too. Hiruma never said “I love you”; he wasn’t the type. But I knew. I knew that when I said “love you” over the phone, and he would reply with a “yeah, whatever”, it was his way of saying “love you too.” What I liked about being with Hiruma is that no matter what happened in our relationship, he never regretted any action he took. He forgot my birthday one year. The next day, he shouted at me because of my crunchy waffles. Most girlfriends would find this annoying and hurtful, but I found it refreshing. Hiruma wasn’t the type to wallow for a week about screwing up once. He was wonderfully unattached, and soon, I found that I could be put into the same liberating mindset.
“Hey damn girlfriend, you’re moving in with me. Have your fucking stuff ready by Saturday.”
I still remember the day he said that. I was enthralled, and threw my arms around him. He immediately grimaced and made sure no one was watching. Then I started to blabber about all the problems we’d have. No space, long commute to my work, what the neighbors would think. He immediately shrugged it all off. “We’ll squeeze.” “Drive fast.” “Who gives a shit?” He released me from my problems, and made me feel as though I could fly.
Hiruma was always on the road to the future. Never on the road back to where he had come from.
“Don’t make much dinner,” Hiruma muttered, throwing down the receiver of the phone. I looked up at him from the dinner I was cooking and he turned to me. “I just scheduled another meeting at the office.”
“Huh?” I looked up, surprised and annoyed. “You could have told me before I started.”
“Whatever,” Hiruma grunted, throwing on his jacket.
“Why are you going?” I asked. “It’s late, and your employees work hard enough as it is.”
“I’m the fucking project manager this time,” Hiruma said. “I’m making them to the bone. We have to be the best at the next meeting.”
“All right,” I smiled, looking for the radish on the counter. “Have a good time. Don’t yell at them too much, all right?”
“I’ll do what I want,” Hiruma muttered. He walked to the door and paused, his hand resting on the doorknob. I found the radish and started to look for my knife. “Well…?”
“Well what?” I asked.
“Aren’t you going to say it?” he asked and I smiled warmly.
“Love you.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he grunted, walking out the door curtly.
***
The phone rang about ten minutes later, and I picked it up. “Hello, Hiruma and Anezaki residence, Mamori speaking.”
“I know who’s fucking speaking,” said Hiruma over the phone. I rolled my eyes. “Look, is my damn project plan book on the table? I think I left it.”
I moved the phone to clench it between my shoulder and my ear, and glanced at the coffee table, still chopping the radish. “Yes. It’s right here. Do you need it?”
“No, not really. I’ll just improvise.”
“I can get it for you if you like,” I said. “Really I-Ow!” I dropped the knife as I cut myself from not paying attention. Blood flowed from my hand, and I immediately reached for a cloth.
“Mamori?” Hiruma asked, urgency in his voice, something I often didn’t hear. “You all right? Answer me, damn it!”
“I-I cut myself,” I said, wincing as I poured water on the still flowing wound. “I-I need bandages. I’ll be fine.”
There was a pause and neither Hiruma nor I spoke. Finally, I heard his voice come over the phone. “I’m coming back.”
“Huh?” I asked. “B-but the meeting.”
“I need the project book, don’t I?”
“My hand is fine…”
“I didn’t say I was worried about your fucking hand, did I? I just need my book.”
“Yoichi…” I began with his first name, something I rarely did, as I had known him as Hiruma for so long. But I was beginning to get scared. This was unlike Hiruma. “Keep going. Don’t look back.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, damn it,” he muttered. “I’m turning.”
“I’ll be fine, really!” I assured him. “Just keep going--”
I gasped as I heard a huge honking sound and a crashing noise. Hiruma shouted and the phone dropped. “Yoichi?” I said into the phone. “Hiruma! Hiruma are you there?!”
There was silence. The phone had hung up, but I was still talking. “Hiruma? Hiruma, are you there?!”
I dropped the phone. He was gone. I didn’t know where he was, or if he was alive or dead. My hand had stopped bleeding, but my eyes were beginning to bleed tears instead. I dropped to my knees and held my head.
In the one second that Hiruma had looked back, he had left me.
***
I kissed Hiruma’s forehead as he lay there in the hospital bed, unconscious and barely breathing. He had sustained major injuries, the doctors had said, but he would survive. It was a miracle, but the car had swerved just in time to force most of the impact to the passenger side of the car. I had been at the hospital for almost three hours, and it was past midnight.
I felt his calloused hand in my own, trying to memorize every bit of his palm, making sure I would never forget in case he was one day taken away from me. If he ever looked back again…
“How is he?” the doctor asked, walking back into the hospital room and looking over Hiruma’s IV and printouts.
“I’m not sure…” I said softly. “He hasn’t woken up yet.”
“He might sleep well into the night,” the doctor explained. “It would be better if he got a bit of rest right now. You can go home if you like Miss Anezaki.”
“I-I’d rather stay…” I said softly. “Do you mind?”
“No,” the doctor shook his head. “But after three, I’m afraid you’ll have to go. Hospital policy.”
“I understand,” I nodded, then returned to my memorization of Hiruma’s hand. The doctor didn’t interrupt me again, and soon he left me and Hiruma alone. I raised my head, kissing Hiruma’s forehead again.
“Damn girlfriend…?”
I gasped and looked at Hiruma to see his body stirring and his eyes opening slightly. “Hiruma!” I gasped, throwing my arms around him. He winced, and I pulled back immediately.
“Damn! That fucking…hurt…” he muttered, struggling to get the words out.
“You’re in the hospital,” I told him. “You got into an accident.”
“I could tell that much. Oh well. Are my legs shot or something?”
“They say you’ll need physical therapy, but you should be fine.”
“Damn. Waste of my fucking time. Oh well.”
“I love you,” I said warmly, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, turning his head to look at his surroundings. He turned back to me and saw the tears falling down my cheeks. “Don’t cry. I’m not dead.”
“I-I know,” I smiled, wiping away my tears. “I’m just happy.”
“Hey Mamori?” he asked, and I perked up at my name leaving his mouth. It was odd. I was actually getting used to “damn girlfriend”.
“Y-yes?”
“How long is this fucking physical therapy going to take?”
“Umm…the doctor said…four months or so…”
“Four months?” he asked. “What’s in four months?”
“September. Why?”
“We’re getting married in September. Don’t fucking disagree. I’m pissed enough as it is.”
I paused, and my eyes widened. In an extremely unromantic and uncaring way, Hiruma had just proposed marriage to me. My heart was fluttering, and my spirits were so high that I was smiling and crying at the same time. “B-but…but what about--”
“You want a fucking ring?” he snapped, grimacing at the pain. “Well, I don’t have one, but I will, okay?”
“I don’t need a ring.” Hiruma blinked as I embraced his head and held it close to my chest, crying into his hair. I was shaking my head, sobbing. “I don’t need…a-a ring…”
“Good,” Hiruma muttered. “Now I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me with your stupid crying.”
“Right,” I nodded. “Get some rest, all right?”
That’s what I loved about Hiruma. Even after his accident, all he thought about was his future and getting what he wanted as quickly as possible. He didn’t worry about his injuries, or what would happen to him. He didn’t worry about what he could have done to prevent it. He didn’t say a word about the missed meeting.
Hiruma made me remember what it was like to forget about what was in the past. He made me focus on the future just by being with him. It was impossible to wallow; he didn’t allow it. Even crying over spilt milk was condemned by this man who always looked straight ahead and charged forward.
It was like a play in football. No team can win if they think about their last fumble. You’ve got to keep going, running forward, and playing each play as it comes.
Never look back. Keep moving forward. These are the important truths I’ve learned from this man I love.
And everyday, I strive to take one more step forward.
Mamori x Hiruma
Hiruma was the kind of guy who was always moving forward. He didn’t believe in looking back at what was lost, or what he could have had. I remember, when the Devil Bats lost their second game to the Ojo White Knights are were eliminated from the Spring tournament, not one tear was shed by Hiruma.
Not that Hiruma was one to cry. What I’m trying to say, I guess, is that Hiruma immediately began plans for the Devil Bat’s future, instead of lamenting on the past. In contrast, when the Devil Bats won against, say, the Zokugaku Chameleons, Hiruma didn’t revel in the victory either. He knew his next step, and he went for it. That’s the kind of person Hiruma was.
I think that’s how our relationship was too. Hiruma never said “I love you”; he wasn’t the type. But I knew. I knew that when I said “love you” over the phone, and he would reply with a “yeah, whatever”, it was his way of saying “love you too.” What I liked about being with Hiruma is that no matter what happened in our relationship, he never regretted any action he took. He forgot my birthday one year. The next day, he shouted at me because of my crunchy waffles. Most girlfriends would find this annoying and hurtful, but I found it refreshing. Hiruma wasn’t the type to wallow for a week about screwing up once. He was wonderfully unattached, and soon, I found that I could be put into the same liberating mindset.
“Hey damn girlfriend, you’re moving in with me. Have your fucking stuff ready by Saturday.”
I still remember the day he said that. I was enthralled, and threw my arms around him. He immediately grimaced and made sure no one was watching. Then I started to blabber about all the problems we’d have. No space, long commute to my work, what the neighbors would think. He immediately shrugged it all off. “We’ll squeeze.” “Drive fast.” “Who gives a shit?” He released me from my problems, and made me feel as though I could fly.
Hiruma was always on the road to the future. Never on the road back to where he had come from.
“Don’t make much dinner,” Hiruma muttered, throwing down the receiver of the phone. I looked up at him from the dinner I was cooking and he turned to me. “I just scheduled another meeting at the office.”
“Huh?” I looked up, surprised and annoyed. “You could have told me before I started.”
“Whatever,” Hiruma grunted, throwing on his jacket.
“Why are you going?” I asked. “It’s late, and your employees work hard enough as it is.”
“I’m the fucking project manager this time,” Hiruma said. “I’m making them to the bone. We have to be the best at the next meeting.”
“All right,” I smiled, looking for the radish on the counter. “Have a good time. Don’t yell at them too much, all right?”
“I’ll do what I want,” Hiruma muttered. He walked to the door and paused, his hand resting on the doorknob. I found the radish and started to look for my knife. “Well…?”
“Well what?” I asked.
“Aren’t you going to say it?” he asked and I smiled warmly.
“Love you.”
“Yeah, whatever,” he grunted, walking out the door curtly.
***
The phone rang about ten minutes later, and I picked it up. “Hello, Hiruma and Anezaki residence, Mamori speaking.”
“I know who’s fucking speaking,” said Hiruma over the phone. I rolled my eyes. “Look, is my damn project plan book on the table? I think I left it.”
I moved the phone to clench it between my shoulder and my ear, and glanced at the coffee table, still chopping the radish. “Yes. It’s right here. Do you need it?”
“No, not really. I’ll just improvise.”
“I can get it for you if you like,” I said. “Really I-Ow!” I dropped the knife as I cut myself from not paying attention. Blood flowed from my hand, and I immediately reached for a cloth.
“Mamori?” Hiruma asked, urgency in his voice, something I often didn’t hear. “You all right? Answer me, damn it!”
“I-I cut myself,” I said, wincing as I poured water on the still flowing wound. “I-I need bandages. I’ll be fine.”
There was a pause and neither Hiruma nor I spoke. Finally, I heard his voice come over the phone. “I’m coming back.”
“Huh?” I asked. “B-but the meeting.”
“I need the project book, don’t I?”
“My hand is fine…”
“I didn’t say I was worried about your fucking hand, did I? I just need my book.”
“Yoichi…” I began with his first name, something I rarely did, as I had known him as Hiruma for so long. But I was beginning to get scared. This was unlike Hiruma. “Keep going. Don’t look back.”
“Don’t tell me what to do, damn it,” he muttered. “I’m turning.”
“I’ll be fine, really!” I assured him. “Just keep going--”
I gasped as I heard a huge honking sound and a crashing noise. Hiruma shouted and the phone dropped. “Yoichi?” I said into the phone. “Hiruma! Hiruma are you there?!”
There was silence. The phone had hung up, but I was still talking. “Hiruma? Hiruma, are you there?!”
I dropped the phone. He was gone. I didn’t know where he was, or if he was alive or dead. My hand had stopped bleeding, but my eyes were beginning to bleed tears instead. I dropped to my knees and held my head.
In the one second that Hiruma had looked back, he had left me.
***
I kissed Hiruma’s forehead as he lay there in the hospital bed, unconscious and barely breathing. He had sustained major injuries, the doctors had said, but he would survive. It was a miracle, but the car had swerved just in time to force most of the impact to the passenger side of the car. I had been at the hospital for almost three hours, and it was past midnight.
I felt his calloused hand in my own, trying to memorize every bit of his palm, making sure I would never forget in case he was one day taken away from me. If he ever looked back again…
“How is he?” the doctor asked, walking back into the hospital room and looking over Hiruma’s IV and printouts.
“I’m not sure…” I said softly. “He hasn’t woken up yet.”
“He might sleep well into the night,” the doctor explained. “It would be better if he got a bit of rest right now. You can go home if you like Miss Anezaki.”
“I-I’d rather stay…” I said softly. “Do you mind?”
“No,” the doctor shook his head. “But after three, I’m afraid you’ll have to go. Hospital policy.”
“I understand,” I nodded, then returned to my memorization of Hiruma’s hand. The doctor didn’t interrupt me again, and soon he left me and Hiruma alone. I raised my head, kissing Hiruma’s forehead again.
“Damn girlfriend…?”
I gasped and looked at Hiruma to see his body stirring and his eyes opening slightly. “Hiruma!” I gasped, throwing my arms around him. He winced, and I pulled back immediately.
“Damn! That fucking…hurt…” he muttered, struggling to get the words out.
“You’re in the hospital,” I told him. “You got into an accident.”
“I could tell that much. Oh well. Are my legs shot or something?”
“They say you’ll need physical therapy, but you should be fine.”
“Damn. Waste of my fucking time. Oh well.”
“I love you,” I said warmly, tears forming at the corners of my eyes.
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, turning his head to look at his surroundings. He turned back to me and saw the tears falling down my cheeks. “Don’t cry. I’m not dead.”
“I-I know,” I smiled, wiping away my tears. “I’m just happy.”
“Hey Mamori?” he asked, and I perked up at my name leaving his mouth. It was odd. I was actually getting used to “damn girlfriend”.
“Y-yes?”
“How long is this fucking physical therapy going to take?”
“Umm…the doctor said…four months or so…”
“Four months?” he asked. “What’s in four months?”
“September. Why?”
“We’re getting married in September. Don’t fucking disagree. I’m pissed enough as it is.”
I paused, and my eyes widened. In an extremely unromantic and uncaring way, Hiruma had just proposed marriage to me. My heart was fluttering, and my spirits were so high that I was smiling and crying at the same time. “B-but…but what about--”
“You want a fucking ring?” he snapped, grimacing at the pain. “Well, I don’t have one, but I will, okay?”
“I don’t need a ring.” Hiruma blinked as I embraced his head and held it close to my chest, crying into his hair. I was shaking my head, sobbing. “I don’t need…a-a ring…”
“Good,” Hiruma muttered. “Now I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me with your stupid crying.”
“Right,” I nodded. “Get some rest, all right?”
That’s what I loved about Hiruma. Even after his accident, all he thought about was his future and getting what he wanted as quickly as possible. He didn’t worry about his injuries, or what would happen to him. He didn’t worry about what he could have done to prevent it. He didn’t say a word about the missed meeting.
Hiruma made me remember what it was like to forget about what was in the past. He made me focus on the future just by being with him. It was impossible to wallow; he didn’t allow it. Even crying over spilt milk was condemned by this man who always looked straight ahead and charged forward.
It was like a play in football. No team can win if they think about their last fumble. You’ve got to keep going, running forward, and playing each play as it comes.
Never look back. Keep moving forward. These are the important truths I’ve learned from this man I love.
And everyday, I strive to take one more step forward.