Disclaimer: Eyeshield 21 is owned by Riichiro Inagaki and Yusuke Murata.
It was pouring hard outside. The team had already left and she alone is in the club room. The rain started pouring just a few minutes ago. I wonder if Sena reached home before it rained. Well he should have reached home. With his speed it is not impossible. Mamori is still doing some analysis for the upcoming game against Hakkushu and there is a lot to be done. The team is busy doing their parts and as the manager, she should do her part.
At the sound of a thunder the door opened. Hiruma entered the room, dripping wet.
"Hiruma-kun! What happened?"
"Damn rain..." He was not in the practice session today and Musashi was the one placed in-charge of the training. Of course the team asked where Hiruma went. It's rare that he's not around for practice, especially at crucial times like this. He just said he's off to some "business." Mamori didn't know he would come. She didn't realize that. She thought she'd be all alone this afternoon.
He opened his locker, trying to look for something he can use to dry himself up. He took off his shirt and threw it at the table. Obviously he didn't find anything that could help. His locker is full of fire arms and grenades, no space for something else. Pissed off, he sat down, opened his laptop and started typing.
"You shouldn't work with just that. You'd get sick." Mamori scolded him. "There is an upcoming game you know."
It seemed like he didn't hear her words. He just continued typing. There are no other sounds heard aside from the raindrops playing on the roof of their club room, occasional thunderclaps and lightning strikes and the sound of fingers skilfully typing on the keyboard. At times you can hear deep breaths, seemingly tired but generally there was silence.
"Here, use this. You left this the other day." She handed him a polo shirt. It was his uniform he left a few weeks ago. She also gave him a small towel to wipe off the dripping water from his blond, spiky hair.
"Finished your homework yet, damn manager?"
She made a face. She has always told him to stop calling her that, but the more she stops him the more he seems to enjoy calling her "damn manager." She answered the question anyways. "Almost. Gaou may be a real problem." She said, worry noticeable in her voice, as she returned to her seat and looked at the papers scattered on the table.
"Tch. That damn fatty better be a match for that bastard." He just finished buttoning his shirt up. Again, he sat down and continued his work. Again there was silence.
Mamori wanted to say something. She wanted to make him realize the dangers of the match against Hakkushu, the trouble that he's in. She wanted to tell him how strong the enemy is, how insane Gaou is. She wanted to tell him he's in the most dangerous situation being the quarterback. But she knows he knows this already, that's why she can't speak up. And she knows that even though he knows all this, he will still go for it. Nobody can stop him, not now that they're one step closer to their dream, to Christmas bowl. But deep inside she feels heavy, she feels uneasy. There is something hurting her chest and it makes it hard for her to breathe. Every minute, every second she thinks about the match, the more the pain grows. And as every moment passes she feels she can't handle it anymore. She feels like exploding. She can't take it. She has to do something. Subconsciously, her body walked towards where he is sitting. Then she found her hands on his shoulder. The touch sent 1,500 millivolts and increasing at it jumped from neuron to neuron until it reached his brain. It made his muscles at the shoulders contract a bit.
"What?" He growled.
"Hiruma-kun..." She wanted words to come out, but nothing was heard. All she wanted to tell him is to take care but she was paralyzed.
He closed his laptop and stood. He has read through her, and he didn't want an awkward moment. He was starting to feel uneasy. He knows Mamori's feelings for him but he had always avoided situations that make him feel weird inside. He walked to the door but as he extended his arms to open it Mamori grabbed the other. Then he felt her hands on his cheek and her lips on his. His hand made their way to her hips and he pulled her close. She wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his body, thin but toned.
He didn't know she can be this aggressive. Tough, yes. He knows no other woman tougher than her, but he didn't know she can be this emotional, so emotional it made her kiss him. And with this kiss he knew he loved her. He was hiding it, but true, in the course of their journey to Christmas bowl, somewhere there he began to love her.
Mamori pushed off, her rosy pink cheeks are now bright red. Hiruma grabbed the umbrella leaning near the door. "Not yet going home, damn manager? It's raining, you might get sick. There is an upcoming game you know." A playful, devilish smile flashed across his face. They walked together that day, under one umbrella keeping them dry, their hearts listening to the words never heard, revealed by a kiss.