Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.
Sena Kobayakawa admired the strength and unmatchable power of Shin's notorious spear tackle since the very first Deimon Devil Bats versus Oujou White Knights game.
He envied its deadly accuracy, its ability to bruise your ribs for days to come, its never-fail skill in getting an opponent cowering on the ground, and that it was uniquely one of a kind. Sena knew that if he wanted to beat Shin, he would have to find a way to maneuver around it, seeing as he definitely couldn't tackle the other boy first.
And he was getting good practice.
If he attempted to keep a semi-precise tally in his mind concerning how many times he's said hello to the dirt, peeled himself off the football field, and overall had to suffer from the force of Shin's sheer arm shooting into his stomach faster than a bullet being shot from a gun, Sena may be able to round up to three hundred.
Then again, he wasn't sure.
Sena sat on his bed, his shirt hitched up to his neck as he examined his bruised and aching stomach, which was sporting a sharooshing shade of purple and blue. Biting his lip, he gingerly began prodding at the sore flesh and instantly recoiled when a white-hot pain seared through his body.
It was only fair to blame Shin Seijuro.
He had been asked by his mother a few days ago to fetch the flour that she needed to finish off dinner, and Sena had dutifully dashed to the market to retrieve the ingredient. It had been on his way back, however, that he was passed by a jogging Shin, who after he noticed Sena, decided to tackle him on the grass.
The next Oujou versus Deimon game had been merely two days away at the time, and Sena brushed the incident off as practice.
At the game two days later, he had been roughly tackled to the ground once again, which Sena had expected. But he hadn't expect Shin's sturdy form to linger atop him much longer than he should have.
Shin had even let their eyes lock, his expression grave and his body heavy on Sena's frail form, but his eyes still unnaturally warm. It wasn't until he was two inches away from Shin's face was he really able to observe his features. Sena, who normally thought of himself as an observant person, was ashamed to admit that before the sudden eye-lock, he wasn't aware of what color Shin's eyes really were.
A moment later than he should have moved, Shin heaved himself off the ground and dusted the dirt off of his uniform before extending a gloved hand curtly to the running back. Sena took it apprehensively and watched as Shin then sauntered back to his team and got in formation.
Sena thought it had been a fluke. Little did he know that this was an occurrence that he unfortunately hadn't seen the last of.
---
Playing Oujou, Sena mused, was only truly difficult when Shin was in the game.
Sure, Takami and Sakuraba had worked out various passing techniques, and sometimes even Monta had problems intercepting their infamous Everest Pass, but it was nothing Hiruma couldn't predict and prepare the team for. Otawara did prove himself to have noticeable vigor, but Kurita was normally determined enough to stop him. It was Shin who Sena had always struggled with, and it was Shin who determined the win or loss of a game.
Playing Oujou was also only painful when Shin was involved.
Sena was on the way to his second touchdown in a row, the field all a blur to him as he whizzed by player after player and sought out the end. He thought he had surpassed the rest of Oujou, but really, Sena should have known.
He grunted as the air was aggressively pumped out of him and Sena landed on the ground with an ugly thud, Shin landing with him.
Shin's body collided harshly with Sena's, but once again, as Sena's eyelids fluttered open, he realized that the Oujou linebacker was making no move to get off of him.
"S-Shin-san," Sena stuttered through the throbbing in his side.
Shin blinked impassively down at him. Sena was getting peeved. First he was pounded into the ground like fresh beef being flattened by a meat cleaver and now he was being ruthlessly held captive by a heavy linebacker. His wrists were pinned to the ground by Shin's palms, and no matter how much Sena tried to fruitlessly dig his heels into the ground and pick himself up, Shin didn't seem to get the message that Sena was uncomfortable.
"Fucking shrimp!" barked Hiruma, "get off the ground already!"
At the sound of Hiruma's demand, Shin finally lifted himself up from Sena and wandered back to his team as though nothing had happened. Sena pondered if really nothing had, and he was looking too much into Shin's lingering tackles.
---
Two weeks later, Sena was once again subjected to the same actions, except he did notice a small amount of added gentleness added to Shin's tackle. As the two of them landed on the rigid ground, Sena noticed a nanosecond before he hit hard that Shin was clinging onto Sena's elbows to soften his fall considerably. Once again, their eyes locked in a serious exchange of Sena only knew what, and Shin took his sweet time getting off the smaller boy.
If Shin would lean any closer, their noses would be brushing. Sena almost felt awkward in the situation; it had an odd amount of non-football intimacy tainting it.
Once again, Shin's warm body left Sena's as he got off the running back and walked off. Almost wanting the natural heat of Shin's skin back, Sena propped himself up on his elbows and stared over his shoulder as Shin jogged back to the Oujou huddle. After a few moments of idle staring, Sena returned to his own team.
"Monta-kun," he began, prodding the receiver in the shoulder, "is it just me, or is Shin-san kind of drawing out his tackles on me?"
"FUCKING PIPSQUEAKS! GET IN THE HUDDLE!"
---
Sena was starting to think that he was imagining things. Some people would say that he was 'seeing what he wanted to see', but every single time Sena asked someone on Deimon after he was brutally tackled by Shin if the linebacker was definitely lying on top of him for longer than he should after a simple tackle, his responses would all end the same way.
"Fucking shrimp, get your head in the game already! Focus!" Hiruma would yell, brandishing his guns.
"Ehhh? Shin-san? I think you're dizzy, Sena." Monta would say uneasily, shuffling his feet.
"Huh?"
"Huhh?"
"Huuhhh?" Togano, Kuroki, and Jumonji would chant as they always did.
"A-ha-ha! I will tackle Shin-san before he gets to Sena!" Taki stuck his fist in Sena's face, a thumbs-up popping up in front of his eyes encouragingly.
Needless to say, Sena was beginning to wonder if he was going slightly insane. Too many tackles. Too many guns shooting next to his ear. Clearing his head with a small shake, Sena jumped back into the game.
---
One, two, three, four, five, six…
Sena mentally counted the seconds as Shin lay silently on top of him. This was going for much too long to be a manly, Oujou-style tackle. There was only so long Sena could go on making excuses about the locks of their gazes, their bushing ankles, and touching torsos. Sena wondered if it was a new football technique, but still doubted it.
Sena's eyes awkwardly met Shin's, who were staring into Sena's brown pupils fixedly.
And he definitely wasn't imagining things when he saw Shin's face descend on his ever-so-slowly. Sena sucked in his breath and stopped himself from biting his lower lip in uncontrollable nerves. From the looks of it, Shin Seijuro was about to kiss him in the middle of a football field, right after a rough tackle, with the rest of Oujou and Deimon and hundreds of chanting fans witnessing the exchange. Sena felt a blush rise to his cheeks.
And a hair's breath away from Sena's lips, Shin withdrew and helped up him from his ruthless tackle.
---
Sena knew he wasn't strong enough to do this. Sena knew he wasn't prepared enough to even consider this. He knew that Hiruma would be giving him a humiliating punishment later on for deviating from the instructed plan.
But there were some things that Sena needed to prove to himself and everybody else, no matter foolish or ridiculously brazen they were.
With an animalistic pounce, Sena clawed at Shin's back and the unsuspecting linebacker's knees buckled as they both toppled to the ground, Sena's arms still wrapped around Shin's waist with an astonishingly strong grip. The football fell from Shin's fingers. As they unceremoniously fell on the ground, this time Shin's back being the one to take the hit, Sena blinked quietly down at his rival.
"You've beaten me, Eyeshield."
Sena blushed faintly at the words of shame, and quickly moved to get off of Shin. Just as he was crawling off of the boy, Sena felt Shin's gloved hand shooting off the ground to grab Sena's wrist with white knuckles.
"Stay here." Shin commanded softly.
So he definitely hadn't been imagining things when Sena had been under the impression that Shin's tackles hadn't been going on for far too long. Obeying, Sena stopped moving and stared wordlessly into Shin's eyes.
"Shin-san," he began inquiringly, tilting his head, "Why were you always tackling me so strangely?"
"Because I wanted to." Shin answered simply, and furled his hands around Sena's elbows securely.
"DAMN PIPSQUEAK!"
Sena could hear the sound of Hell on his heels thundering down the field as Hiruma began charging toward the running back. Hastening to finish his inquiries, Sena shifted slightly on the other boy and hurriedly continued.
"But Shin-san," he pressed, "I don't–"
"Lingering," Shin interrupted Sena, "gives me time."
Sena was about to ask 'time for what' when he felt a firm yet soft pressure on his lips. For a moment he wondered if Hiruma had gagged him and hauled him off to the locker rooms for his punishment of disobeyed the rules, but the next second he felt Shin's fingers snaking their way up into his hair and he made the connection of what was going on.
His confidence shows up in everything he does, Sena contemplated in awe, losing himself in Shin's shockingly gentle kiss. He knew that this was definitely wrong; they were rivals, but at the same time, Sena couldn't help but enjoy himself. As Shin pulled back, his face returned back to his emotionless expression.
"If you wouldn't mind, Eyeshield," he muttered softly, "I'd appreciate if you let me get up. This tackle has been going on for far too long. People will start staring."
Resisting the urge to tut at the hypocritical request, Sena rolled off of the linebacker and smoothed down the tousled portion of his hair. Wondering if this had been a one-time goal for Shin to accomplish, Sena sought out any sign of emotion in Shin's face, only to be given actual words as a reply.
"Perhaps you'd be interested," Shin ventured, "in being tackled more often. We could go jogging together."
A nervous laugh escaping Sena's mouth, he awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck but still managed to nod tentatively.
"Absolutely, Shin-san," he responded, and was stunned when he saw a soft and rare flicker of a smile form on Shin's face before the Oujou player ran back to his team. Sena was almost too caught up in replaying what the hell had just occurred between the two boys when he felt Hiruma poke him in the shoulder blades.
"Fucking shrimp," he murmured, "we need to work on your tackles."
AN: Ehhh, I know it's short, and normally it wouldn't be, but there's only so many times I'll write poor Sena being tackled by Shin…
THIS WAS WRITTEN FOR ALL OF YOU WHO THINK THAT SHIN LINGERS WAY TOO LONG ON TOP OF SENA WHEN HE TACKLES HIM. 8D