FASH: Inspired by a short story in a doujinshi anthology that I bought. I don't know what they're saying in it, but I got the gist and thought it was a fun idea.

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

""-speech

''-thoughts

Mamori pursed her lips together into a thin line, eyes narrowing dangerously as she regarded the blonde sitting in front of her with a bone chilling look. Had anyone else been in the clubhouse at the moment, they'd probably be surprised that Mamori could pull off such an expression.

"Hiruma-kun," She began lowly, planting her hands on her hips when he only glanced at her for a second before turning his attention back to his laptop.

"Sena isn't as strong as the other players you bully, you've got to be more gentle with him."

Had Hiruma felt like reacting he would have turned to give her a dry, all-knowing look as he questioned her how she knew for sure that Sena needed to be constantly coddled. As it was he didn't even bother acknowledging what she said. He knew the truth of the matter after all.

The disregarding of her request made Mamori stomp forward, glaring at Hiruma as she raised her voice. "Hiruma-kun, if you keep on treating Sena as violently as you do, he's bound to get hurt! He's fragile, like glass, and not of the bullet-proof variety."

Hiruma almost rolled his eyes in annoyance, but they were instead drawn to the opening clubroom door.

'Well look who it is.' He thought in amusement as Sena crept in. He pushed his laptop to the side and stood up, smirking deviously at Mamori as he approached the first year.

"Hey Sena," He began, hardly able to conceal his demonic glee as both the other occupants of the room tensed.

"How was your day?" He brought up a hand and gently ran it through Sena's hair while the younger boy stood completely still, Mamori doing the same.

'Heh, I think I broke their brains.' The hand running through Sena's, admittedly soft, hair slowly moved down to the back of his neck while his other hand moved to rest on one of Sena's hips.

'And for the grande finale...'

"How about showing some love to your favorite quarterback?"

In a flash of movement that Hiruma couldn't help but be mildly impressed with, Mamori had lunged forward and ripped Sena away from him and was now holding the majorly freaked out boy in a protective embrace.

"I take it back! Just treat him like you do everyone else!" She cried and Hiruma turned around, chuckling darkly.

"If you insist, fucking manager."