Title: Don't Abuse Firearms
Characters: Hiruma/Mamori
Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield
A/N: I really liked the death of Rice-kun in the manga.
Sena, Monta, and Kurita had been nice enough to help Mamori clean up the mess she made of Rice-kun on the field with the flamethrower. Hiruma conveniently had more pressing matters to attend to in the clubhouse while he waited for the field to be cleaned up. While the guys didn't mind being covered in soot, Mamori felt she needed to change into her spare gym outfit. As she turned towards the school to go to her locker, she remembered that she'd already put her bag in the clubhouse. She groaned inwardly. She could only imagine what taunts and heckles Hiruma was going to toss at her as she walked through the door looking a mess like this.
Walking towards the clubhouse, her thoughts began to change as she realized what it truly meant to Hiruma to have Monta on the team. In a matter of days, the Deimon Amefuto Club had increased from two people to five. It must have been a bittersweet moment out there on the field for him destroying what may have been a symbol of loneliness for him.
Maybe Hiruma needed a moment alone to process the enormity of what transpired? Mamori smiled to herself at the thought as she opened the clubhouse door.
"Kekekeke, you look like you dug your way out of Rice-kun's grave, fucking manager," Hiruma doubled over with demonic laughter as she entered the clubhouse. She had interrupted him from cleaning the dreaded flamethrower when she walked in.
"Can you at least manage to use my actual name when you insult me?" She sighed as she grabbed her bag out of the corner, and turned to go back out the door. She should have known he wasn't the sentimental type.
"That was a pretty bold thing you did out there, fucking manager," he said to her just as she reached the door. She turned around to see his demonic smile as he continued to clean the flamethrower.
"Well, I just thought…you know, might as well join in, right?"
"It felt good, didn't it? Handling such a powerful piece of machinery?"
"Yeah, it kind of did," she said as she walked forward. "It was kind of liberating," she smiled, and shyly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Liberating, huh? If you want, I can give you a few tips on how to handle firearms,"
"Really?" She blinked, then shook her head. "No, no, I'm not the type of person who likes the use of weapons."
"Che," Hiruma reached down, picked up his 44 magnum, and slid it across the table to her.
"Go ahead, pick it up," he said as she eyed the gun lying in front of her. It actually did feel good picking up that flamethrower a torching Rice-kun. She fingered the gun for a moment, as she imagined herself holding it.
"It's not going to start purring, fucking manager. Go ahead and pick the damn thing up," his words snapped her out of her trance. She picked the gun up and gripped it firmly in her hands. Hiruma smirked as he watched her marvel at the gun in her hands. "Nice grip."
"I'm holding it right?"
"Sure you are. Go ahead and point it at me,"
"Oh, I can't do that, Hiruma-kun," she giggled.
"It's not loaded, fucking manager," he said with and calm tone. She eyed him cautiously as she pondered pointing the gun at him then shook her head.
"Aww, come on. Listen, just stand over by the door and point the gun at me. I swear it's not loaded,"
"Is it some kind of trick?"
"It's no trick, I'm just giving you the chance to hold a gun and actually aim it at someone. It's all in fun."
"Okay," She crossed over to the door and lifted the gun. The weight felt good in her hands. She smiled as Hiruma grinned back at her.
"Now say something like, 'freeze fucker'"
"I can't say that."
"Sure you can."
"Oh, no, no, no. I don't use that kind of language."
"Come on. Remember, it's just for fun," he smiled a devilish smile that was infectious. She couldn't help herself. Holding the gun in her hand made her feel like a different person. It made her feel as though she could do almost anything.
"Okay, here I go." She pointed the gun right at him. "Freeze fucker!"
Click.
"Hiruma-Kun!"
"This is going to make the perfect addition to my collection!" The demonic laughter returned as he eyed the preview on his digital camera. "You really should see your face in this picture, fucking manager. It's priceless!
"Ugh!" Mamori opened the door to go out when she remembered she was still carrying the gun. She angrily stomped over to the table, and slammed the gun down.
"Hey, don't abuse firearms, fucking manager!" Hiruma cackled loudly as she grabbed her bag and slammed the door behind her as she left.