Fear and Other Things

Chapter 1: The Incident at the Clubhouse

Mamori's eyes were not frightening enough to make anyone back down; they were too sweet, too motherly to scare anyone. But Mamori still got her way because while her eyes were not frightening, they were implacable.

She was not afraid. Toe to toe with Hiruma at his angriest, and her eyes were as implacable as the mountains, as deep as the earth, swallowing fury and sound. "There are better ways to behave," she hissed.

"Did I ask for etiquette instruction, fucking manager?!"

"In this case, you really needed it! You were even more horribly rude than usual! Mizu-kun was my guest!"

Hiruma's lips peeled back to show his pointy teeth, from ear to ear. "Fucking idiots naturally make me lose my manners!"

An index finger rose and stabbed Hiruma in the chest. "You can't say anything about him." Another stab. "Mizu-kun has been nothing but a gentleman." Stab. "He's been kind and honest." Stab. "And he's fearlessly stood up against your bullying." As Mamori's finger came to stab again, Hiruma caught it. Startled, Mamori looked up. And found Hiruma's eyes burning into her.

"Fearlessness, fucking manager, is not a virtue. Courage is a virtue but fearlessness is just idiocy. To have no fear means you don't think enough to be afraid; to have courage is to know fear, but to go on despite it. He is of the former and that makes him a fucking idiot."

Mamori's eyes narrowed, "I guess that makes me an idiot, as well, because I have no fear of you."

"You're just an idiot because you'll let him take you out, but you do fear me, fucking manager."

"I do not."

"Oh, yes, you do."

"Prove it." Mamori threw out.

Hiruma's grin stretched out wide and he took a step closer.

Startled, Mamori involuntarily took a step back. Hiruma grinned wider, and stepped forward.

"Stop that, Hiruma!"

Once again, Hiruma pushed back. Mamori looked up at him, at his face as he started to cackle.

"You're being childish, Hiruma!" Mamori said, her voice rising.

But Hiruma stepped forward anyway, and she almost fell. Hiruma caught her arms and pushed her again, against the wall, finally. "I can feel your heart racing…" And the grin was unbelievably wide. Hiruma leaned down.

Mamori stopped breathing for a moment. Her last thought was that she was a fool; she was afraid, after all. And Hiruma's lips closed over hers and that drained her brain of everything. There was only Himura and his lips, and his tongue, and his scent, filling her up.


Mamori feels…soft, was Hiruma's thought.

Hiruma is not fearless. He is not a fucking idiot, after all. This is why he succeeds, because he is careful and he is thoughtful. Because he fears. But he does not show fear. He knows that this is essential.

But he is trembling now. He is trembling as he kisses Mamori. Feels the strange shiver that runs up and down his skin as he pulls her close, his hands fisting the material of Mamori's uniform.

Mamori, fierce as a mother bear with its cubs threatened, has become pliant. As soon as he slipped his tongue between her lips, it was as if she turned liquid and she flowed into the spaces of his body, curving over him. Arms around his neck. Legs up against his, stomach pressed against his groin. Warm, all around. She offered herself wholly and sweetly. And the knowledge of it made him tremble.

Hiruma felt light-headed. The scent of her, the taste of her…Hiruma growled, deep in his throat. He slanted his head, delved deeper into her mouth, his tongue playing with hers. He lifted her, his hands grasping her bottom, and he set her against the wall; his body pressing against hers.

"Oy, Sena! Practice time MAX!" Monta's voice slashed through the air, and it ended, as abruptly as it started.


It was amazing how quickly Hiruma moved. One minute, he was holding her up, and the next, there was just empty space. Mamori felt a little dizzy as she leaned against the wall, her breathing labored. Her hand rose to her chest where her heart was thundering. A decent foot away was Hiruma, standing with his back to her as he picked up his machine guns to greet Monta and Sena with.

As the other members of the American football club trickled in one by one, Mamori tried composing herself. She walked over to her bag and dumped her notes onto the desk. She leaned over the notebook, and blindly stared at the scribbles and odd little figures that she drew.

"Is something wrong, Mamori-chan?" Doburoku quietly asked.

Mamori flinched. She looked up at the Devilbats' trainer and smiled. "Of course not, Doburoku-san."

Doburoku started to say something and then stopped. "Well, how is that young man of yours?"

Mamori's pen broke in her grip. "Doburoku-san, how many times do I have to tell you, Hiruma-san and I are not dating! He is definitely not my young man," she whispered fiercely.

Doburoku did not immediately reply. When Mamori looked up at him, Doburoku's eyebrows were lifted high. "I, ah, meant Mizu-san."

And horribly, Mamori felt the heat crawl up her neck, up to her face. "Uh, Excuse me, Doburoku-san, I have to get some water." With that, Mamori stood and left the clubhouse.

Eyes followed her. Doburoku's, Musashi's, and a pair that looked over a laptop.


"Something got you upset, Hiruma?" Musashi casually asked as he sat beside the quarterback typing in his computer. The noise of the clubhouse receded as the first years piled out to run into the practice yard. Doburoku had left with a meaningful look thrown back at Hiruma and Musashi.

"Tch," was the only reply Hiruma had.

"Well, I suppose being sly with you would never work. I hope you didn't touch Mamori-chan, Hiruma."

The fingers flying above the keyboard paused for a second, then continued furiously typing.

"For the wrong reasons, I mean," Musashi continued. "It would be a shame if you muddle the start of something—"

"I don't want to hear it, old man." Hiruma snapped his laptop closed, his face unusually expressionless.

Musashi looked at him. "You fool. You did kiss her."

Hiruma stood quiet for a moment, then savagely kicked the bench opposite. And left the clubhouse without saying anything more.

In the doorway, Doburoku's silhouette appeared. "I didn't think he would have ever done that." The trainer stepped inside. "Mamori is of great use as a manager to him, and it seems reckless."

Musashi smiled without looking at the older man. "He cares for her." The kicker leaned back on the lockers. "Well…it'll be interesting to watch, anyway."

Doburoku snorted. "More dangerous than interesting, I should think."

Musashi picked his ear, distracted. "Oh, we'll see, I guess." He pushed off the bench. And the kicker and the trainer left the clubhouse, as well.

End of Chapter 1