Letters Home
Author: bar_ohki
Title: Letters Home
Summary: Even the Sergeant writes letters home….
Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.
Notes: This was inspired by the cover page for chapter 46: A Sad Offensive Formation of the Eyeshield manga. It’s a picture of Hiruma with a cigarette in his mouth, a rifle in his hands, and wearing a military uniform on what is obviously a battle field of some kind.
Letters Home
My So-Called ‘Fucking Woman’-
As par your fucking, fucking, fucking request I am actually writing you a god forsaken letter from this hell-hole they call a ‘trench’. Fucking trench. Fucking war.
Happy? You better damn well be.
-Sgt. Y. Hiruma
Sergeant Youichi Hiruma licked the envelope, tucked the letter inside, and stuck a stamp on it. He wasn’t the kind of man who wrote letters and he certainly wasn’t the kind of man that let the distractions from the home-front distract him from the battles to come. It had been a month since his last leave and during that time his friend, no good acquaintance was probably a better term, proclaimed herself to be his lady and demanded a letter every month from him.
And one month latter he found himself actually writing the fucking letter.
He had signed his name like he signed every military document that came his way out of habit. It wasn’t until after he gave the letter to Private Kobayakawa that he even realized he had signed it that way. Somehow this made him feel like an ass (though most would argue the content of the letter should have been doing that).
Exactly 13 days later, Private Kobayakawa walked up to him and handed him an envelope.
“What the fuck’s this, Private?” Hiruma demanded.
“Your mail, sir.” Kobayakawa saluted and walked away. Hiruma simply stared after the kid, slightly amazed. Kobayakawa had been the world’s most bullied little brat in town. He used to be such a push-over that he ran everyone else’s errands for them. Now he was an official military messenger and one of the fastest and most efficient ones at that! He took pride in his work and was no longer the spineless brat he had been.
Hiruma missed the kid Kobayakawa used to be.
Without any further ado, Hiruma pulled out his combat knife and opened up his mail. It was from Mamori.
Youichi-
I’m so glad to hear that you’re alive! Everyone back home was worried about you! Every time I listen to the news, I hear your company’s number, 021, all the time. You guys are becoming such heroes!
It means a lot to me that you wrote me a letter (could you please use less ‘fucking’ next time?) and I would like to hear your physical condition next time. I worry for your health, I hear those trenches are best at growing diseases.
If there is anything you want from back here, I’m willing to send you small packages in my replies. Since I know you hate military coffee, I sent you a small pack of ‘Moon’s Roast’, that’s your favorite right?
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
Her use of his first name pissed him off, but not for too long. As was promised, there was a small bag of black coffee beans in the envelope, just enough for one cup of coffee. Hiruma couldn’t really be too pissed when the daughter of the pub sent him a cup’s worth of their best coffee brew. He did not admit this to anyone, but fucking woman made the best fucking coffee in the world.
And that night Hiruma had a cup of that heavenly coffee. It made him slightly homesick.
Another month passed.
Fucking Woman-
Get me another cup of fucking coffee.
Get me two cups of that fucking coffee.
-Sgt. Y. Hiruma
Another 13 days.
Youichi-
You could be a little nicer about asking for the coffee!
How was the first cup anyways? You never tell me if it was any good. Either way, it is good to hear that you’re still alive.
The radio’s been talking about Team Naga a lot lately, it worries me. I hope you don’t have to encounter them.
How’s Sena doing? Suzuna never tells me what he writes her about. I share with her what you send me!
I am thankful that you didn’t use ‘fucking’ so excessively this time. It makes me very happy.
I just want you to know that I still support you and wish you well. I know you hate God and Church, but I go and pray every day that you’ll return home safely one day. I know you’ll hate me for it, but I’m at my wits’ end and I just
I’m going to do everything, even if you hate it, because it can’t not help. So there!
I also recall that you liked sugar-free gum, so I sent you two packs. I hope they last until I hear from you again.
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
As was promised, there were two cups’ worth of Moon Roast coffee beans and two packets of Hiruma’s favorite flavor of chewing gum. Hiruma didn’t say anything but he took a piece of the gum out of the packet, broke it in half, and stuck a bit in his mouth.
Gum was so much better than fucking cigarettes.
Fucking Woman-
You are in no place to be making fucking demands. I write you your fucking letter, it makes you fucking teary eyed and happy, I’m so fucking sure. And if you plan to whine every time you send me a fucking reply, I won’t read it.
So fucking there!
Get me a third pack of that gum.
-Y. Hiruma
This time Hiruma was pleased, he managed to not put the ‘Sgt.’ part on his signature.
Youichi-
Would it kill you to tell me if you are unwounded or not?
And if you plan to be an ass about this, I’ll just stop sending you your coffee and gum.
So there yourself!
I heard you managed to defeat Team Naga! We were all so happy, we cried. Suzuna still hasn’t been giving me news about Sena’s welfare, would you mind sending me some next time please?
I sent you some mittens this time. I hear that they are a shortage on the field and I just want you to not lose any fingers. You always had such amazing, nimble fingers, it’d be a real shame if you lost them. Let me know if the mittens don’t fit.
And so you know, I was defending your honor the other day. One our customers wished you dead and I smacked him around and kicked him out. Using that broom you got me last year, might I add.
I hope you are well.
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
Hiruma simply put on his red mittens without a word. They fit perfectly and were very, very warm. And as an added bonus they smelled of coffee, Mamori’s coffee.
Fucking Woman-
Pvt. Kobayakawa is fine and in good health.
I am fine.
Happy?
-Y. Hiruma
Hiruma had stopped smoking, much to the amazement of his subordinates.
Youichi-
I’m so relieved to hear you are both well. From the sound of things on the radio, it sounds like we are losing, is that true?
Since its getting colder, I thought I’d send you a scarf this time along with another two cups of coffee.
Please stay safe and come home in one piece.
Lots of love,
Mamori
P.S.- How are the mittens?
Fucking Woman-
The enemy listens to the radio, don’t believe what it says.
Pvt. Kobayakawa’s about to get a fucking promotion, don’t tell his fucking girlfriend, she has no business knowing that before he does.
Your mittens are fucking fine, quit worrying about it.
I had to punish Private Kuroki for trying to steal my coffee the other day. Send me another fucking cup so that I can shut him up next time he comes around ranting about it.
I am fucking fine, as is the fucking Pvt..
- Y. Hiruma
Youichi-
If I don’t believe the radio, what am I supposed to believe?
I sent what you asked for.
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
Mamori’s last letter was covered with tear stains.
Miss Anezaki-
Believe in me.
-Youichi Hiruma
P.S.- I’m fine.
Youichi-
The postman told me they couldn’t mail things in the envelopes beyond letters now. I’m sorry I can’t send you your coffee or gum.
I know I shouldn’t believe the radio, but they tell me the situation is hopeless against this new ‘Teikoku Operation’ the enemy planed. Is it true?
Lots of love,
Mamori
P.S.- Call me ‘Mamori’ please.
Fucking Mamori-
In all honesty it seems pretty damn hopeless. Moral’s at an all time fucking low and everyone might as well be dead considering how fucking tired we all are.
But it only seems this way.
Private Raimon found us a bit of hope earlier today. I can’t say what it is, but I think it is possible to turn this thing around. Normally this wouldn’t matter because they don’t give me nearly enough authority. Fuckers. I know you’d hate me for finding this a stroke of good fortunes, but my superior officer, Doburoku, died yesterday and I’ve been promoted into his place.
If my plan works, you’ll get to see me next month, rather than one of these fucking letters.
-Youichi Hiruma
P.S.- Have my coffee ready.
After receiving her letter, Mamori walked over to the old radio in the shop. She flipped it on and waited for whatever news about the war was to be heard.
“-hey did it! 021 did it! We won!” The announcer was screaming in joy.
“Won?” Mamori gasped.
Hiruma came back home, all worn out and tired in ways he had never been in his life. Around his neck was an abused black scarf and on his hands were red shreds of what used to be his favorite pair of mittens. Over his shoulder was his father’s rifle, that saved his live more than once during the fighting. He walked right down the main street of their town in his abused, muddy uniform. He walked right into the coffee shop owned by the Anezaki’s and sat down at one of the stools on the bar.
Mamori simply set his warm, steaming cup right in front of Hiruma. Hiruma didn’t look at her, he only picked up the coffee and took a small, but long sip. It was after he set the cup down did he look at her.
“You lost weight.” Hiruma observed. “Did they ration all your creampuffs away?”
“No,” Mamori shook her head, “I was too worried to eat.”
“You worry too fucking much.” Hiruma rolled his eyes and took another sip of coffee.
“The radio’s been shouting nothing but praises about you since the initial victory announcement.” Mamori remarked conversationally.
“…I don’t really give a fuck about all that,” Hiruma glared at the radio, “I just wanted my fucking coffee.”
“…And I just wanted you to come home.” Mamori remarked, good naturedly.
“…You make it better than I do.” Hiruma admitted after a minute.
“Hm?”
“The fucking coffee.” Hiruma pointed at his cup.
“Good thing too, or I’d have to find something else you bribe you to come home with.” Mamori joked.
“…Can you make my coffee for the rest of my life?” Hiruma asked, looking her in the eye with something she would have called affection.
“Yeah, I think I can make your coffee.” Mamori smiled. “But I’m not leaving here, so you’d better stay.”
“I will.” Hiruma smiled and continued to work on his cup.
Sending letters was okay, but coming home was best.
_=_=_=_=_
I blame my exams, please comment.
Title: Letters Home
Summary: Even the Sergeant writes letters home….
Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.
Notes: This was inspired by the cover page for chapter 46: A Sad Offensive Formation of the Eyeshield manga. It’s a picture of Hiruma with a cigarette in his mouth, a rifle in his hands, and wearing a military uniform on what is obviously a battle field of some kind.
Letters Home
My So-Called ‘Fucking Woman’-
As par your fucking, fucking, fucking request I am actually writing you a god forsaken letter from this hell-hole they call a ‘trench’. Fucking trench. Fucking war.
Happy? You better damn well be.
-Sgt. Y. Hiruma
Sergeant Youichi Hiruma licked the envelope, tucked the letter inside, and stuck a stamp on it. He wasn’t the kind of man who wrote letters and he certainly wasn’t the kind of man that let the distractions from the home-front distract him from the battles to come. It had been a month since his last leave and during that time his friend, no good acquaintance was probably a better term, proclaimed herself to be his lady and demanded a letter every month from him.
And one month latter he found himself actually writing the fucking letter.
He had signed his name like he signed every military document that came his way out of habit. It wasn’t until after he gave the letter to Private Kobayakawa that he even realized he had signed it that way. Somehow this made him feel like an ass (though most would argue the content of the letter should have been doing that).
Exactly 13 days later, Private Kobayakawa walked up to him and handed him an envelope.
“What the fuck’s this, Private?” Hiruma demanded.
“Your mail, sir.” Kobayakawa saluted and walked away. Hiruma simply stared after the kid, slightly amazed. Kobayakawa had been the world’s most bullied little brat in town. He used to be such a push-over that he ran everyone else’s errands for them. Now he was an official military messenger and one of the fastest and most efficient ones at that! He took pride in his work and was no longer the spineless brat he had been.
Hiruma missed the kid Kobayakawa used to be.
Without any further ado, Hiruma pulled out his combat knife and opened up his mail. It was from Mamori.
Youichi-
I’m so glad to hear that you’re alive! Everyone back home was worried about you! Every time I listen to the news, I hear your company’s number, 021, all the time. You guys are becoming such heroes!
It means a lot to me that you wrote me a letter (could you please use less ‘fucking’ next time?) and I would like to hear your physical condition next time. I worry for your health, I hear those trenches are best at growing diseases.
If there is anything you want from back here, I’m willing to send you small packages in my replies. Since I know you hate military coffee, I sent you a small pack of ‘Moon’s Roast’, that’s your favorite right?
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
Her use of his first name pissed him off, but not for too long. As was promised, there was a small bag of black coffee beans in the envelope, just enough for one cup of coffee. Hiruma couldn’t really be too pissed when the daughter of the pub sent him a cup’s worth of their best coffee brew. He did not admit this to anyone, but fucking woman made the best fucking coffee in the world.
And that night Hiruma had a cup of that heavenly coffee. It made him slightly homesick.
Another month passed.
Fucking Woman-
Get me another cup of fucking coffee.
Get me two cups of that fucking coffee.
-Sgt. Y. Hiruma
Another 13 days.
Youichi-
You could be a little nicer about asking for the coffee!
How was the first cup anyways? You never tell me if it was any good. Either way, it is good to hear that you’re still alive.
The radio’s been talking about Team Naga a lot lately, it worries me. I hope you don’t have to encounter them.
How’s Sena doing? Suzuna never tells me what he writes her about. I share with her what you send me!
I am thankful that you didn’t use ‘fucking’ so excessively this time. It makes me very happy.
I just want you to know that I still support you and wish you well. I know you hate God and Church, but I go and pray every day that you’ll return home safely one day. I know you’ll hate me for it, but I’m at my wits’ end and I just
I’m going to do everything, even if you hate it, because it can’t not help. So there!
I also recall that you liked sugar-free gum, so I sent you two packs. I hope they last until I hear from you again.
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
As was promised, there were two cups’ worth of Moon Roast coffee beans and two packets of Hiruma’s favorite flavor of chewing gum. Hiruma didn’t say anything but he took a piece of the gum out of the packet, broke it in half, and stuck a bit in his mouth.
Gum was so much better than fucking cigarettes.
Fucking Woman-
You are in no place to be making fucking demands. I write you your fucking letter, it makes you fucking teary eyed and happy, I’m so fucking sure. And if you plan to whine every time you send me a fucking reply, I won’t read it.
So fucking there!
Get me a third pack of that gum.
-Y. Hiruma
This time Hiruma was pleased, he managed to not put the ‘Sgt.’ part on his signature.
Youichi-
Would it kill you to tell me if you are unwounded or not?
And if you plan to be an ass about this, I’ll just stop sending you your coffee and gum.
So there yourself!
I heard you managed to defeat Team Naga! We were all so happy, we cried. Suzuna still hasn’t been giving me news about Sena’s welfare, would you mind sending me some next time please?
I sent you some mittens this time. I hear that they are a shortage on the field and I just want you to not lose any fingers. You always had such amazing, nimble fingers, it’d be a real shame if you lost them. Let me know if the mittens don’t fit.
And so you know, I was defending your honor the other day. One our customers wished you dead and I smacked him around and kicked him out. Using that broom you got me last year, might I add.
I hope you are well.
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
Hiruma simply put on his red mittens without a word. They fit perfectly and were very, very warm. And as an added bonus they smelled of coffee, Mamori’s coffee.
Fucking Woman-
Pvt. Kobayakawa is fine and in good health.
I am fine.
Happy?
-Y. Hiruma
Hiruma had stopped smoking, much to the amazement of his subordinates.
Youichi-
I’m so relieved to hear you are both well. From the sound of things on the radio, it sounds like we are losing, is that true?
Since its getting colder, I thought I’d send you a scarf this time along with another two cups of coffee.
Please stay safe and come home in one piece.
Lots of love,
Mamori
P.S.- How are the mittens?
Fucking Woman-
The enemy listens to the radio, don’t believe what it says.
Pvt. Kobayakawa’s about to get a fucking promotion, don’t tell his fucking girlfriend, she has no business knowing that before he does.
Your mittens are fucking fine, quit worrying about it.
I had to punish Private Kuroki for trying to steal my coffee the other day. Send me another fucking cup so that I can shut him up next time he comes around ranting about it.
I am fucking fine, as is the fucking Pvt..
- Y. Hiruma
Youichi-
If I don’t believe the radio, what am I supposed to believe?
I sent what you asked for.
Lots of love,
Mamori A.
Mamori’s last letter was covered with tear stains.
Miss Anezaki-
Believe in me.
-Youichi Hiruma
P.S.- I’m fine.
Youichi-
The postman told me they couldn’t mail things in the envelopes beyond letters now. I’m sorry I can’t send you your coffee or gum.
I know I shouldn’t believe the radio, but they tell me the situation is hopeless against this new ‘Teikoku Operation’ the enemy planed. Is it true?
Lots of love,
Mamori
P.S.- Call me ‘Mamori’ please.
Fucking Mamori-
In all honesty it seems pretty damn hopeless. Moral’s at an all time fucking low and everyone might as well be dead considering how fucking tired we all are.
But it only seems this way.
Private Raimon found us a bit of hope earlier today. I can’t say what it is, but I think it is possible to turn this thing around. Normally this wouldn’t matter because they don’t give me nearly enough authority. Fuckers. I know you’d hate me for finding this a stroke of good fortunes, but my superior officer, Doburoku, died yesterday and I’ve been promoted into his place.
If my plan works, you’ll get to see me next month, rather than one of these fucking letters.
-Youichi Hiruma
P.S.- Have my coffee ready.
After receiving her letter, Mamori walked over to the old radio in the shop. She flipped it on and waited for whatever news about the war was to be heard.
“-hey did it! 021 did it! We won!” The announcer was screaming in joy.
“Won?” Mamori gasped.
Hiruma came back home, all worn out and tired in ways he had never been in his life. Around his neck was an abused black scarf and on his hands were red shreds of what used to be his favorite pair of mittens. Over his shoulder was his father’s rifle, that saved his live more than once during the fighting. He walked right down the main street of their town in his abused, muddy uniform. He walked right into the coffee shop owned by the Anezaki’s and sat down at one of the stools on the bar.
Mamori simply set his warm, steaming cup right in front of Hiruma. Hiruma didn’t look at her, he only picked up the coffee and took a small, but long sip. It was after he set the cup down did he look at her.
“You lost weight.” Hiruma observed. “Did they ration all your creampuffs away?”
“No,” Mamori shook her head, “I was too worried to eat.”
“You worry too fucking much.” Hiruma rolled his eyes and took another sip of coffee.
“The radio’s been shouting nothing but praises about you since the initial victory announcement.” Mamori remarked conversationally.
“…I don’t really give a fuck about all that,” Hiruma glared at the radio, “I just wanted my fucking coffee.”
“…And I just wanted you to come home.” Mamori remarked, good naturedly.
“…You make it better than I do.” Hiruma admitted after a minute.
“Hm?”
“The fucking coffee.” Hiruma pointed at his cup.
“Good thing too, or I’d have to find something else you bribe you to come home with.” Mamori joked.
“…Can you make my coffee for the rest of my life?” Hiruma asked, looking her in the eye with something she would have called affection.
“Yeah, I think I can make your coffee.” Mamori smiled. “But I’m not leaving here, so you’d better stay.”
“I will.” Hiruma smiled and continued to work on his cup.
Sending letters was okay, but coming home was best.
_=_=_=_=_
I blame my exams, please comment.