Hello! This is Merry of MerryGold. Gold wrote this up, but I edited and reviewed. This is our first collaborative work, and our first work to be posted here, so be nice. No flames or trolls, just constructive criticism and valid (meaning you have evidence to back you up) arguments, please!
MerryGold does not own Eyeshield 21, all characters and designs belong to Riichiro Inagaki and Yusuke Murata
Mamori sat at her desk. She was so deep in thought, she hadn't noticed that class had been over for several minutes already.
As Kurita walked out of the classroom heading towards the club room, he noticed that Mamori hadn't moved. This was unusual: as the team manager, she was usually the first one out the door.
"Mamori-san? Are you coming to practice today?" Kurita asked before he left.
"Hmm? Oh! Yeah, I'll be right there." Mamori replied, gathering her things.
"Would you like me to wait for you?" asked Kurita politely.
" No, no, I'm fine. You go on ahead. Hiruma will be more upset about you being late than me."
"If you insist..."
Mamori's daydreaming continued through practice. More than once, Hiruma pulled out a firearm, and Mamori didn't react. Kurita decided he would ask Mamori after practice if anything was the matter.
"Mamori-san, are you okay?" Kurita asked her as they put the last of the practice equipment away.
"Yes, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"
"You were acting oddly today. You weren't focused in class or during practice. Something's going on."
"Well…. You're right, but I don't know if I want to talk about it just yet."
"Well, if you change your mind my ears are always open."
"Thank you, Kurita. You're a good friend."
Hiruma went over to Kurita's house later that day to watch game tapes. Kurita was busy thinking about what could be bothering Mamori, and Hiruma was tired of Kurita losing focus on the more important matter at hand- American Football.
"Okay, fucking fatty. What the hell is keeping from you from focusing on these tapes?" asked Hiruma testily.
"Mamori-san is acting strangly lately," replied Kurita.
"So what? Why the fuck do you care? It's the fucking manager's problem. Now shut up and watch the fucking video," said Hiruma.
"Yes, Hiruma."
The next day at school Mamori asked Kurita if they could talk after practice. They made plans to meet at the Kariya Bakery for cream puffs.
"Thank you for coming, Kurita," said Mamori as she sat down at the table Kurita was sitting.
"Oh, it's not a problem. You're giving me cream puffs, so we're even," Kurita said jokingly.
"I'll just get right to the point, then. I really like Hiruma. But it's impossible to tell if he likes me, so I got an idea. I want you to go on a date with me."
Kurita choked on several cream puffs.
"M-me? I don't think this is a good idea. Why don't you just ask Hiruma?"
"No! If I ask, he won't give a straight answer. In fact, he'll probably pull out a bazooka and shoot me on the spot."
Kurita knew that was most likely true. There had to be a better way to find out than going on a date with Mamori, but he supposed it wouldn't hurt to try.
"I suppose I could help. Just this one time," said Kurita hesitantly.
"Thank you so much, Kurita," said Mamori.
Something was up. Hiruma had just left Kurita's house, but Kurita wasn't home.
"Where the hell is that fucking fatty? This is the second time this week. He hasn't been giving it his all at practice, either."
As he walked down the street he saw Kurita on the other side of the street. Wait… he wasn't alone. Fucking manager was with him.
"Well, well. I smell blackmail material."
It was quickly obvious that they were on a date. He trailed them from a distance for the rest of the day.
"This is odd. They're obviously on a date, but I don't sense any romantic feelings. This is irritating me. Why?"
But then he remembered that it didn't take much for anything or anyone to irritate him.
After three more days of trailing Kurita and Mamori, Hiruma was fed up. He went to confront Kurita and Mamori.
"Alright, fucking fatty, fucking manager. I know you two are dating. I want you to stop. It's affecting your performance at practice. "
"Is that your only reason, Hiruma?" asked Mamori.
Something about the question bothered him.
"Yes, I don't need any other fucking reasons."
Kurita really didn't want to be here.
"Okay, calm down. There's a perfectly logical explanation," Kurita said.
"Kurita, you can go. I can take it from here," said Mamori. She sounded angry.
Kurita beat a hasty retreat.
When Kurita left the room, Mamori turned to Hiruma.
"You were following me and Kurita, weren't you?"
"No, a fucking birdy told me. No shit I followed you."
"Why did you follow us?"
"Because fucking fatty was never home when I went to his house, and both of you have been acting strangely. What the fuck is going on?"
Mamori blushed.
"I…I was trying to make someone jealous…"
"Did it work? Can you start focusing on Amefuto again?"
"Are you jealous?" Mamori asked Hiruma.
Hiruma was starting to understand the cause of his fouler-than-usual mood. This irritation was different from when the team did something wrong. He was jealous. He wasn't irritated because fucking manager and fucking fatty were dating; he was irritated because it was fucking manager with a man other than Hiruma.
"I like you, Hiruma."
Hiruma was taken aback. He was silent for a few minutes. He didn't know how to respond, even though he should have seen this coming a hundred yards away. He was happy to hear what Mamori had said. He knew that he probably shouldn't kick her the way he kicked the rest of the team when he was trying to hide how happy he was.
He kicked her anyway.
"Get back to work, fucking girlfriend, we have a game in less than a week!"