A plane flew over the small town, and birds soared above the buildings. As the sun shone on the walls of the local high school, all seemed well.
Pity that such a peaceful environment housed such a malevolent demon.
"YAAAA-HAAAAA"
The sound of gunfire and maniacal laughter tore through the air, and was soon followed by the stamping of hastily running, cleat-bound feet and another shriek.
"Hiruma-kun, someone's going to get hurt if you keep doing that!"
Said manifestation of the devil, Hiruma, grinned, "Fucking manager, if they ran faster then it wouldn't matter, kekeke."
The so-called "fucking manager," or Mamori, pouted angrily, but resigned herself to the fact that he'd keep shooting regardless of what she (or anyone) said.
Turning away, she called out "Hiruma-kun, I have to go to the Disciplinary Officers' meeting, I can't make it to practice!" and trotted off.
"Tch, fucking manager, I'll just be able to torture the chibi and monkey more...OY, GET MOVING, TEN LAPS BEFORE DRILLS!!" growled Hiruma.
Listening to the commotion out on the field, Mamori sighed and continued to her meeting. She certainly wouldn't allow such a disruptive student to get in the way of the upcoming Spring Formal. She was definitely excited about it; not only was everything running perfectly on schedule (obviously because of her efforts, not that she'd admit it) but the Masquerade theme was sure to stir the student population enormously. Hopefully, people would be just as excited as she was and attend?
--
Hours later, as an exhausted Mamori trudged down the stairs after smoothing out the many problems that came with planning such a large event (really, who would imagine that there would be such heated debates over whether to use pleated or unpleated curtains?) she spotted the Deimon Football Team practically crawling into the clubhouse after what was surely a torturous practice session. Looking around, she spied the team's quarterback watching Kurita close the door and hearing a loud crash as he collapsed inside.
"Hiruma-kun, the Spring Tournament is already over and you're still pushing this hard?" Mamori demanded.
"Fucking manager, they won't get any better if they don't fucking practice their asses off. Why do you think we lost? The damned fatty won't get any better if he just stuffs his face with sweets all day." He paused, and grinned, "Here!" He tossed a slightly crumpled package towards her. "Don't get too fat, fucking manager."
Mamori caught the parcel, surprised. As she opened it up, she squealed in delight. "Hiruma, how did you get these? They're Kariya's latest choco-chestnut-raspberry delight! It's nearly impossible to get more than one or two now that the demand is so high...Mmm, delicious...munch..."
Looking up, she was surprised to find that the team captain had already disappeared.
--
"Mou, just leaving me like that, how could you? Hiruma-kun!!"
"Fucking manager." His voice was steady, but something about the way he said it made her stop.
"Y-yes...?"
"You still have cream on your face! YA-HA!!" And with that, he ran off again gleefully clutching the new blackmail photos he had snapped.
"HIRUMA-KUN!!" Mamori's shriek pierced even through the walls of the clubhouse, and Monta swooned "Oh, Mamori-san looks so beautiful with that cream moustache! In swirling colors of brown and yellow, so wonderful!"
Before the aerial ace could laud the manager further, a stray bullet struck dangerously close to his head and the team fled back into the clubhouse.
--
Walking back home, Mamori licked the sweet cream from her upper lip and pondered over what had possessed Hiruma to give her such a gift. "Sure, it was nice, but that's what's odd about it..."
Feeling inside the bag for any more pastries, she sighed with disappointment and tossed it into a waste bin.