Title: Christmas And The Devil's Smile
Rating: T, for Hiruma mouthing off the f-bomb
Characters: Hiruma, Mamori, and appearances by most of the DevilBats
The fic: Mamori invites Hiruma to a Christmas dinner with her parents. The only problem now is, will he know how to behave?
Disclaimer: Eyeshield 21 (c) Riichiro Inagaki & Yusuke Murata.
This was a fic written for veryviciousv, from the HiruMamo LiveJournal Community 2008 Secret Santa (LOVE to this community!!). Thought I'd share it here, too!
- - - - - - - - - -
"Honey, when's he going to get here?"
"Soon, Mom," Mamori said with a flustered smile. "It's not seven o'clock, yet."
"Punctual, is he?" said her father with an approving nod. "That's good, very good!"
Her parents had been asking all day - from the moment Mamori had woken up, all through brushing her teeth, changing her clothes ("Make sure you wear something nice, dear!"), eating breakfast, tidying up the house ("Did you want to hide Rocket Bear in the garage?"), eating lunch, bustling around the kitchen preparing dinner, up until now, when they were waiting not-so-patiently for seven o'clock to come.
"Christmas dinner?" Hiruma stopped typing on his laptop and looked up at her, eyebrows raised. Mamori nodded.
"My parents really want to finally meet you," she said. "I figured, a dinner on Christmas day would be a perfect opportunity."
"On a school night?" said Hiruma, now smirking. "Lady Disciplinarian likes her night life, eh?"
"Oh, stop it! Christmas dinner next week on the 25th, at my house at seven o'clock. Are you up for it, or not?" Mamori challenged.
Hiruma's grin widened. "I'll see you there, fucking manager," he said softly.
That grin of Hiruma's usually meant trouble; she knew him well enough to know this. The moment he said those words, Mamori's thoughts were set somewhere along the lines of "oh-God-what-was-I-thinking?". Ever since then, her whole week had consisted of constant fretting, to the point of even dreaming about the upcoming dinner - yes, he was her... her boyfriend, but to introduce him to her parents over a Christmas dinner... how would Hiruma act? Would he know to behave, especially in front of her parents? Heck, did he even know what behave meant?
But it was far too late to back out now, and to be honest, Mamori felt - or rather, knew - that perhaps she was being a little unfair on him. She did want Hiruma and her parents to meet each other, really, but she still could not shake off the slight feeling of dread that plagued her stomach every time she saw Hiruma holding a firearm of some kind (which was far too often), or whenever he mouthed off, "fucking brats, fucking fatty, fucking old man, fucking baldy"...
"Mamori," said her mother's voice, shaking her out of her thoughts, "could you get the napkins from the cupboard?"
"Sure, Mom."
"And also-"
KABOOM!
"Wh-wha-what was that?" stammered Mr. Anezaki. They both turned to look at her daughter, who, to their alarm, had blanched several shades.
"Mamori!" Mrs. Anezaki cried. "Are you all right? Mamo-"
Their daughter tore past them with a jumbled, "Yesmfinesallright", before lunging for the front door and wrenching it open.
"About time, fucking manager!" a boy's voice shouted. "How long did you plan to keep me waiting?"
"HIRUMA-KUN!" Mamori screeched, "I told you to leave the arsenal behind!"
"I forgot," said the one called Hiruma rather lazily.
"You FORGOT?"
"Are you letting me in or what? Is this your idea of hospitality?"
"Don't talk like that in front of my parents!"
"Eh? Your parents are there? Oi, Mrs. Anezaki-"
"Don't be so rude!"
"Mamori?"
"Can't you use some manners for once in your life!"
"Mamori!"
"Especially in front of my PARENTS, they've been wanting to meet you all week, you could AT LEAST-"
"MAMORI!"
She jolted awake and bolted upright. "Wh-wh-" she gasped, looking around in confusion. My bedroom? It was a dream?
"Honey, are you all right?" Her mother was staring at her, concerned. "You were mumbling in your sleep."
Mamori fell back onto her pillows and groaned.
- - - - -
"I bet that he'll pull out at least two firearms over dinner," annouced Kuroki at the clubhouse that afternoon.
Togano looked up from his Jump issue. "Why would he do that? Even he would know to restrain himself, right? It's Anezaki-sempai's parents he's meeting, after all."
"What, you think I'll know what that unpredictable guy is thinking? Nah, I'm thinking about if she walks past a guy who looks twice at her," answered Kuroki. "He nearly swiss-cheesed Satake when he accidentally bumped shoulders with Anezaki-sempai the other day."
"Hmm... true. How much are you betting?"
"I'll bet one hundred yen."
"You cheap bastard!"
"Cowardice is the motto of Kuroki Kouji!"
"Merry Christmas. What are you guys up to?" Musashi came in through the clubhouse door and set his toolbox on the ground. "Making bets on how their dinner will go?"
"How about it, old man?" said Juumonji, "Want to bet on something?"
Musashi looked at them thoughtfully. "I bet that he'll end up being invited to dinner every day of the week. Five hundred yen."
"You think it'll work that well?" asked Yukimitsu, surprised. Musashi just smiled knowingly and shrugged. The Ha-Ha Brothers exchanged looks.
"In that case, I bet he won't say a single swear word to her parents," said Juumonji. "Maybe in front of her, but not her parents. Three hundred yen."
"Heh! Then I bet he'll... he'll rock up in a formal suit for the night, one hundred yen," said Kuroki. "Toga, stop reading for a sec and place your bets!"
"Hold on, this is a really good part in Blea- ow! All right, fine, you bastard! I bet that... they'll mention something about American football over dinner. Three hundred yen."
"WHAT?" Juumonji shouted. "Now THAT is cheap, you lazy ass! He's the quarterback and she's the team manager! Of course they'll talk about American football!"
"You got a problem with that, eh?!"
"Damn straight I do!"
"Fugoh!"
"Komusubi says he thinks Hiruma will act like a gentleman and hold out the chair for her and things like that," said Kurita helpfully. The potential brawl between Togano and Juumonji subsided. The three Ha-Ha Brothers sniggered loudly, and Musashi chuckled.
"Well, then, I bet that he'll... present her parents with a bouquet of flowers," said Yukimitsu. They all stopped and stared at him. Then, as one, they burst out laughing at the thought of their spartan commander from Hell holding a bunch of flowers. Dignified Musashi made a noise that sounded like a laugh disguised as a violent cough. Kurita spat out his water with enough force to knock over a nearby chair.
"What's so funny?" The door opened and Sena and Monta walked in, dumping their schoolbags on the ground as Kurita picked up the fallen chair again. They looked around at their hysterical teammates curiously.
"Imagine our captain holding a bouquet of flowers," said Kuroki. Sena and Monta stared at him and imagined. They then looked half-stunned, half-horrified. The other Devil Bats howled in laughter again at the looks on their faces.
"Wh-What's all this about?" Sena spluttered. "Are you talking about their Christmas dinner with Mamori-neechan's parents tonight?"
"This can't be!" howled Monta, shaking Sena. "That dinner? It's really happening? My angel Mamori-san and that Devil? And- and- FLOWERS? I wanted to give her flowers on a date!"
"You lucked out, monkey," said Juumonji unsympathetically. "Anyway, place a bet on what will happen during their dinner."
"I bet he'll get kicked out of the house and told never to return!"
"No way, impossible," said the Ha-Ha Brothers at once.
"Wait, you're not planning on sneaking over to Mamori-neechan's house to actually spy on them, are you?" said Sena, looking worried for their safety and sanity.
They all stared back at him.
"Are you NUTS?" said the Ha-Ha Brothers in unison.
"Then, the bets..."
"We're just imagining how things would turn out, Sena-kun," said Yukimitsu. "Hiruma-san probably wouldn't let us even set foot inside of Anezaki-san's house, and I think we all want to get through Christmas alive and free of bullet-holes." Sena nodded and smiled in relief. Monta still looked mutinous; the thought of challenging the commander from Hell kept him from doing much else.
"Well, now that that's cleared up, who's going to bet next?" said Juumonji. "Oi, old man, what-" He was cut off sharply.
The door opened with a resounding BANG that echoed fear in their hearts, as, to their horror, the Devil himself stepped into the room and gazed back at them.
"Fucking brats!" Hiruma bellowed. "Get your asses on the field if you know what's good for you!" He fired off a round with his AK-47, and they were out of the clubhouse in two seconds flat.
"You going to play Santa Claus?" Musashi mused. He stepped around another overturned chair and casually made his way to the door.
"Kekeke..." Hiruma smirked and popped a stick of gum in his mouth. "Why the fuck not?"
- - - - -
The journey home after school had been a mad dash that Mamori barely remembered. She knew she had said a very hurried goodbye to her friends, might have passed Sena and reminded him that she wasn't walking home with him, might have received a good luck wish from Kurita and Musashi when she passed them, and might have accidentally bowled over the fruit stall owner and his wife when she thundered by.
"Mamori! Calm down!" her mother had said in alarm when Mamori burst into the house and charged upstairs to take a shower. When she heard the water running, Mrs. Anezaki smiled in wonder. She had rarely seen her daughter so frantic.
"Ah, young love," she sighed. She began cleaning up the house, humming an old love song happily.
A few hours later, Mr. Anezaki had returned home from work, and they had finished preparing the food and the drinks, and laid out the good tablecloth, china, cutlery, and glasses ("No, Mom, we don't need the candles." "But it's so much more romantic, dear!"). Mamori quickly checked over everything. Everything seemed fine; the house was spotless and the dining room was practically sparkling.
And the time had almost come.
Mamori stared at the clock on her wall. One more minute to seven. She did a quick check of herself - dress was fine, hair was fine, makeup was fine, jewellery was fine...
Forty seconds... thirty-nine... thirty-eight...
"How is he getting here, Mamori?" her father asked.
"Um... w-walking, I guess." She had not thought about it. But now that he mentioned it... no, Hiruma wouldn't come trampling down the street in an army tank. He wouldn't.
Would he?
Twenty-five... twenty-four... twenty-three...
Oh, God, thought Mamori, Not the tank, please. Or the fighter jet. Or the-
Fourteen... thirteen... twelve...
Ordinary. Please, let this be a nice, normal-
Three... two... one-
Ding-dong!
The three of them jumped. Mamori swallowed hard and raced for the door. There was no sign of anything exploding to announce his arrival. This was a good sign. This was a very good sign.
She opened the door. There was Hiruma.
The first thought that crossed Mamori's mind was, Oh my God, he's wearing a suit! followed by, Oh my God, he looks really, really good in a suit!, and then, Are those FLOWERS he's holding?!
"Honey," Mrs. Anezaki whispered, nudging her dumbfounded daughter gently, "Aren't you going to let him in?"
"Oh! Right!" mumbled Mamori. She cleared her throat and smiled nervously, stepping back. "Um, c-come in, Hiruma-kun." When he entered, he looked directly at her parents.
"Good evening, you must be Mr. and Mrs. Anezaki. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," said Hiruma, inclining his head respectfully. Mamori stared at him, startled at the uncharacteristic politeness.
"Oh, no, the pleasure is ours!" her parents said in unison, beaming. It seemed that as far as first impressions went, Hiruma was doing well.
Mamori eyed the flowers warily, but Hiruma merely brushed past her, and, to her shock, handed the bouquet to her mother.
"For you, Mrs. Anezaki," he said with a gentlemanly smile that the other Devil Bats members wouldn't have trusted one bit.
"Oh, how sweet of you, you shouldn't have!" Mrs. Anezaki gushed, delighted. "These are beautiful! Aren't they, Mamori?"
"S-S-Sure, Mom," said Mamori. "Beautiful..." She kept trying to catch Hiruma's eye, but he steadfastly avoided her gaze and kept his distance.
She finally gave in, stepped beside him, and linked her arm through his.
"Took your time, fucking manager," he murmured. Mamori nudged him sharply.
"You, of all people, bought flowers?" she whispered. Hiruma smirked.
"First time for everything," he said.
"Well now! You don't find many kids like that, nowadays!" said Mamori's father heartily, nodding at the flowers. "Your boyfriend's quite the gentleman, Mamori!"
"Of... Of course, Dad," she replied. "I wouldn't have it any other way, isn't that right, Hiruma-kun?" She gave him a rather threatening smile, but she could see that Hiruma's eyes were practically dancing. He was having way too much fun.
"I'm sure you're famished," said Mrs. Anezaki, "Dinner's ready, so won't you sit down, first? I'll find a vase for these beautiful flowers!"
"Thank you very much," said Hiruma, still smiling. And he followed them in, dragging Mamori with him.
"Are you planning something?" Mamori whispered. "This isn't like you at all! Not that I'm really complaining, but honestly, Hiruma-kun-"
"Fucking manager," Hiruma interrupted her in a soft voice, "Is that Rocket Bear I see, next to the sofa?" Mamori whipped around, alarmed.
"Mamori!" her father called from the kitchen, "Come help me get the drinks!"
"Where's Rocket Bear?" Mamori hissed. Hiruma raised his eyebrows.
"So you do have a Rocket Bear plush, then?" he murmured. "And I was only joking..."
"Hiruma-kun!"
"Mamori!"
"Coming, Dad!"
A few minutes later, they were all sitting around the dining table. Mamori was feeling even more jittery than before; Hiruma had pulled out her chair for her to sit on, placed her napkin on her lap ("What? No Rocket Bear cutlery?" he whispered), and poured them all drinks, all done with such courteous movements and gentlemanly smiles that Mamori thought she might been hallucinating, and had to refrain from slapping herself (only the Rocket Bear jab kept her from doing so). It didn't help that her parents were closely watching the two of them with very approving and happy smiles.
"So, Hiruma-kun, I hear you're the quarterback for your school's American football team," said Mr. Anezaki eagerly, once they started on the food.
Mamori flinched a little; the All-About-The-Boyfriend conversations had finally started. How would Hiruma reply to them? She looked at him from the corner of her eyes; he was smiling, completely unfazed...
But then, he usually was unfazed, usually able to find a way out of a tight situation. This, she realised, was something she had come to depend on, almost unconsciously.
Relax, she told herself, Trust that Hiruma-kun will be all right.
"Yes, I am," replied Hiruma with a devilishly smooth smile. "I do like American football, and I can only hope I make an adequate quarterback."
"Oh, I'm sure you're excellent," said Mrs. Anezaki. "Mamori is always telling us - all those game you've won! And my daughter as team manager, it makes me so proud! Aside from the Disciplinary Committee, Mamori's never been so enthusiastic about any other club before!"
"Mom," mumbled Mamori, fidgeting a little.
"A team manager and quarterback duo," said Mr. Anezaki thoughtfully. "What a wonderful combination!"
"Indeed," said Hiruma, eyes flickering towards Mamori. "I'd be completely lost without my manager."
Mamori stared at him, startled. Beneath the gentlemanly posture he was successfully keeping up, and his smooth words and actions, there was something in those last words that struck a new chord in her.
Sincerity?
"Hiruma-kun-"
"A toast!" Mr. Anezaki suddenly proposed. "A toast to the invincible quarterback and team manager duo, of Deimon High's American football team!"
"Hear, hear!" said Mrs. Anezaki. "A very happy Christmas, and a very happy future for the both of you! Come on, honey, raise your glass." She nodded in Mamori's direction.
"Uh, r-right," said Mamori, stumbling for her glass.
"Cheers!" They all clinked glasses and drank. Mamori and Hiruma exchanged looks; Hiruma gave her that devilish grin she had become so used to, and raised his glass, tapping it against Mamori's.
"Merry Christmas, Hiruma-kun," said Mamori, unable to fight back a smile.
- - - - -
Dinner went on without any dramas, explosions or firearms. Conversation was civilised, and her parents nodded and smiled approvingly to just about everything Hiruma said, though Mamori couldn't really remember much of it. Hiruma being such a gentleman was far too distracting and out of character, not something she felt she could ever get used to.
"Hiruma-kun, won't you stay for a coffee, too?" Mrs. Anezaki offered when the last of the food had been finished.
"Oh, I couldn't," declined Hiruma respectfully. "It's getting a little late, and we still have school tomorrow, I wouldn't want your daughter coming into school sleep-deprived."
"Goodness, you're right!" said Mr. Anezaki, looking at the time. "It's almost ten! Yes, school tomorrow, that's the mind of a healthy high school boy!"
"Then, I guess I'll... take the dishes," said Mamori, standing up.
"I'll help you," offered Hiruma.
"It's okay, Hiruma-kun-"
But he had already taken most of the dishes and carried them into the kitchen, leaving Mamori to take the glasses, and leaving her parents beaming.
"I don't know what to say to you, sometimes," said Mamori when she joined him at the sink, placing down the cups. But she was smiling and shaking her head.
"Kekeke, what's there to say?" murmured Hiruma in her ear. "Seeing you squirm your way through dinner was a lot of fun."
"You-!" Mamori's protest died away promptly when Hiruma gave her a quick kiss.
"Careful, fucking manager, your parents are still there."
"Oh, you are so infuriating, sometimes!" said Mamori. She took his hand and began dragging him outside. "After all this time, can't you call me by my real name, for once? Honestly, Hiruma-kun..."
"Well, I must be off, now," Hiruma said loudly. "Mr. and Mrs. Anezaki, thank you for the meal, it was wonderful."
"Hiruma-kun, do come to have dinner with us again tomorrow, won't you?" Mrs. Anezaki said, beaming. "Or even the day after! Any time you want to stop by, you'll always be welcome here!" Her husband nodded enthusiastically in agreement.
Mamori gave a faint sort of laugh. Hiruma inclined his head.
"I'd be delighted to. You're too kind, Mr. and Mrs. Anezaki," he said graciously. He turned to their daughter, who looked torn between relief, wonder, and exasperation, and leaned over to kiss her cheek, allowing his lips to linger a little.
"I'll see you tomorrow... Mamori," he whispered.
And he smiled that charming smile of his, and left.