Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21 or any of its characters.
The Devil In Broad Daylight
He did it again.
For the umpteenth time, as they have observed, Hiruma has somehow found a way to surprise and amaze them. Whether it was on purpose or purely accidental, they couldn't tell anymore. There were times that they suspected that Hiruma did what he did to screw around with those around him, just for kicks.
He would rush headfirst into any challenge, almost erratically and insanely.
Of course, he is never without any sort of strategy to back him up.
Then again, most people don't realize it and if they do, it would often be too late.
When he had a plan, it would be either be the most absurd, scatterbrain plan a man has ever thought of, or something so ingenious, no one would have thought of it.
And they would always work without fault.
They regularly reassured others that he was one hundred percent human, with the other twenty percent being the devil.
He relied quite a bit - scratch that, all the time - on last-minute luck, making him something of a male counterpart of Lady Luck.
There were several times he made others do things that they would have never done in normal circumstances.
If those people reflected back on why they did the things Hiruma told them to, they would have to admit it usually because of that ever-present gun cradled in his hands.
Or that fearful book with words of doom scrawled in its many pages always carried with him.
And his wild, savage beast of a dog too.
He is the type of person to smirk and laugh at the skies, just to spite it.
Gambling is his life, both on the field and off.
Hiruma never let them catch a breath, always keeping them on their toes, wondering, presuming, guessing what he will do next.
Despite what most people say, he actually does have a softer side.
It's a habit of his to grin with all his teeth, in resemblance to a shark.
He enjoyed tempting fate, mocking it and laughing cheerfully at it once he slipped past its relentless grip.
People liked to think of him as a trickster, mischievous and unpredictable, or better yet, as the devil, who schemed and laid deals to the unfortunate.
His natural hair color is black, in spite of people thinking otherwise.
He took all their theories, assumptions, philosophies, speculations and hypothesis and completely screwed them.
Contrary to belief, he does bleed like the rest of them.
Never attempt to defeat him a battle of wits; you will lose, period; no questions asked.
The lies he told repeatedly became truths, much to the surprise of others (and himself even).
He never claimed to be a patient man, but in the most strenuous, crucial time, he could wait forever for that single miracle to happen.
As soon as he smiled with that somewhat omniscient, devilish Cheshire grin, you better bet he's up to something, good or bad (in fact, if he doesn't smile, you know that something is wrong).
He is the worst possible enemy anyone should ever make and at the same time, the best possibly ally you could get.
They are proud to say that because of him, they were changed into the players that they are now.
He could say that it was because of them that he actually enjoys playing football as much as he does now.
He has the ability to frighten the heck out of people, strangers even, on the first meeting.
Never mind ability; he just scares people for the fun of it.
Yet, his presence also brings a calming (somewhat) atmosphere.
He was the mastermind, prodding his little chess pieces forward to his command.
The way he pushed himself to win was really commendable, even if all odds were stacked against him.
He came back on the field with a broken arm, for heaven's sake!
Even more impressive, was his uncanny ability to take their ragtag bunch of misfits and transformed them into a formidable, unbeatable team.
They trusted him, even when things seemed hopeless.
He trusted them, even when they did not trust themselves entirely.
He was their captain.
Their leader.
Their control tower.
Their comrade.
Their friend.
And they would never trade him for anything in the world.