Date: 09 Oct. 2007
Title: Linger
Summary: Hiruma's thoughts after the event in the locker room (set after Chapter 251).
Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21, not even Hiruma.. but I wish I do. (too bad he's an anime character.. T-T)
Note: I wrote this after I wrote A thing to look forward to, but decided to post this first.
xxx
Her words still linger in his head, with the sound of ripping paper, and echoes of steel. He knew he ought to feel comforted by her confidence in him, but he was not. He's not easily comforted. He's not a simple guy.
He may appear cool and calm, almost serene, but the gears inside his head are relentlessly shifting and moving, unable to stop. Even the supposedly simple things such as the fucking manager's behavior are blown into greater proportions inside his tireless mind.
He wrote those plays not just as safety precaution but also to cover his other plans. How can she think he'd run out of those? His greatest pain in the match tomorrow would probably be Gaou, the fucking giant, but there's also Marco, whose unpredictability and ruthlessness equals that of fucking Dread. He can't risk showing all his cards. Apparently, damn manager thought he was already giving up. She was damn gutsy to rip his note right in front of his face, yet there was something in her eyes and her voice that stopped him from taking out his M-16 and blowing her away.
Fucking manager: her brain's incredible but she can still be a pain by being a girl.
But he sure has to give credit for he never thought she'd last this long. She proved to be his equal; therefore he will have to listen to her this time.
He's wondering why it matters what she said. He's asking himself why he can't just brush it off and be the same Hiruma as before. He's afraid to accept, to leave this place of denial, that somehow, even a teeny bit, he owed her. And not just her; there's also that pipsqueak who made their two worlds intersect, the monkey boy, the damn baldy, fucking porker and porker jr., the old man, the Huh-Huh brothers, the invisible track-team guy, even Duboroku and his sake. He can never and must never show this, of course. That's not his way.
His way is to use his persistent brain to plot, to plan, and to win. His way is not to motivate the team with kind words and praises, but to make them work with fear. His way is opposite of Mamori's, but both work for the same goal: to WIN! To Fucking WIN!
Shut up, he said to himself silently.
Once you taste creampuffs, you can never get enough.. kekeke.
Taunting himself wipes away all illusions: her face, her soft hands always ready to mend and care, her reprimands, even her broom-wading. All her hard-work, her fierce determination to meet his standards, her patience with his "unacceptable" methods -- will be for nothing if they won't win, if he won't win. All other things are nothing; all does not matter right now other than winning. So he'll fucking WIN.
Because he knows she'll have it no other way.
xxx
So Mamori-focused for the real Hiruma? Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?
From the song Linger by the Cranberries