Still [Eyeshield21: Hiruma x Mamori]

Chapter 9: Flower

Well, first of all, I'd like to apologize for leaving you hanging with this story. It's just life has been hard, but I survived. And I hope everyone else, is doing okay. 

For some reason today, this song wormed it's way to my playlist and brought back every emotion I had for this ship. Please listen to it before reading this chapter, it's one of the ending songs in the anime. Flower by Back On.

The underlined italicized lines are English translations of the song.

xxXxx

There's no way that you and I met by mere chance.

I can't even remember for how long I've believed so.
On the endlessly stretching road of our journey,
before I could notice, a flower was already blooming between us.

If you'd ask Hiruma what physical part of Mamori he liked the most, not that he'll answer the question if anyone would ever dare ask him, he just knew in the back of his mind that the answer will always be her hands. He heard that Agon had once complimented how nice her legs are back in highschool during the Oujo game, sure it was nice too but for him nothing would beat Mamori's hands for him. The same hands that would send him signals from the bench; signals that helped them secure their victories. So, when he felt those hands tremble as she secured the bandages on his arms in the infirmary after Gaou took him down, he felt a pang of guilt of what he knows he is putting her through. They were both smart, and he's sure it was ages ago since they realized these feelings that they were putting on hold because they had a goal; the Christmas Bowl.

She was silent all throughout the ordeal of wrapping his arms and when she finally boiled over once he said he'll come back to the field, he tricked her with the third question, because he's a little shit like that and told her she promised to work obediently. She'd told him that he's an idiot with tears on her eyes but was already picking up his gear and uniform to put it back on him. He smiled, genuinely, even through the pain on his right arm as Mamori carefully slipped his shirt back on him.

They were on their way back to the field with his walking ahead of her when he felt her hand again, fisting on the back of his shirt. Reluctance. It's trembling again, fear. Hiruma turned back and gently pried her hand with his left, he held her wrist as she looked up to him. Dread.

"Do you trust me?" he rasped, voice quiet, physically pained, only for her to hear despite being only the both of them in the hallway. Baring his vulnerability in front of her.

Something in her eyes changed, hope. She whispered a "...yes." Before straightening herself, releasing his shirt and adjusting a firm hold on his helmet she had on her other hand.

Hiruma smirked, the devilish glint back in his eyes like he was not a dead man just minutes ago, "Then let's fucking kill them."

I wasn't able to honestly say "Thank you" to you...
I hate that hesitant self: it's only one single phrase!
Unable to get it out of my mouth, I look for an exit in my heart.

The crowds are chanting their name, Deimon Devilbats, as the rest of the Kanto players entered the field to celebrate with them. They won the Christmas Bowl. There were laughter, smiles, tears as the brats crowd around Sena who eventually broke down after it him like a truck that everything they worked for as a team finally paid off.

Hiruma looked around expecting everyone to have their attention to their running back, their MVP, the glue that stick the rag tag team together. But instead, he found himself locking eyes with his Fucking Manager, her attention was on him. She had a smile small on her lips, pride. He smirked, he felt it rising in his chest, longing.