I made up the character Ken; I hope it's still okay with all you readers out there, though! This is my longest fanfiction yet, and I like how it came out, despite how it rambles and is rushed at certain points. I might continue it if I can think of anything else… Reviews are welcome, especially those of which that contain any constructive criticism that could help me to improve my Eyeshield 21 fanfics! (I don't exactly LOVE the name, either, heh, just couldn't think of anything, I hope it fits...) Also: I was just recently aware that you can't tell which perspective it;s being told from, not very accurately. I'm just going to say it switches from Musashi to Ken, and the parts with Ken's perspective, Musashi is Takekura, and in Musashi's, Musashi is Musashi. Heh, I hope it's okay, if you get confused reading any part, feel free to inform me!

"Not good… Not good…! My lungs feel like they're gonna collapse, and they're gaining on me…!" Three gangsters were chasing after a middle-schooler who had 'trespassed' into their hang-out spot. The boy, running as fast as his un-athletic body could allow, turned as often as he could, changing streets, crossing roads, but the three stayed right behind him, slowly catching up. He ducked through a hole in a fence into a construction site, bumping into a worker carrying boards of wood. "What are you doing here, kid? It's dangerous. You should get out," the worker warned in a gruff voice.

"Y-yes sir!" He jumped up to his feet, but was distracted by the shouting of the three chasing him that grew louder. The middle-schooler hid behind the muscular carpenter who faced the three gangsters, unimpressed. "Look geezer, we just want the kid. Move aside!" the tallest one of the three barked. The carpenter looked down at the boy, as if examining him, and then at the three. "No." The gangsters growled and jumped at him, fists ready. The kid began to cry, sniffling and wiping his nose on his sleeve. However, the worker swiftly kicked the three of them down, and they hit the ground, surprised. They scrambled out back from where they came from. "Thanks, mister…" the boy meekly smiled, wiping the tears from his eyes. The carpenter looked at him and went back to work after ruffling the boy's hair.

"Here it comes!!!" Ken kicked the ball back at the kids, who had asked him to toss it back. However, he put too much power into his kick and it flew over the playing children's heads, landing even further from them when it had flown to Ken. "Oh… Sorry!" With a quick apologetic bow, he ran off; after all, he couldn't be late. He ran around the corner to a construction site, which was being worked on by the same company that that man had been working in. Ever since he'd met him, and ever since he'd been saved by him, Ken practiced kicking, so he could be as strong at kicking as his hero. He jumped, grabbing the top of his fence, and poked his head above it. But… he wasn't there. A nearby worker noticed him and cheerfully said "Oh! Kenny! Sorry to disappoint, but Takekura hasn't been coming to work recently. I think he's playing football with a couple of his friends." For six months now, the boy had heard this same sentence each day. It was the only thing that drove him to buy a football of his own, and begin to practice the sport. However, the only position he was good at was kicker. "Thanks, mister! I'll go look for him now!"

The man smiled as the boy's head disappeared and light footsteps grew fainter. "That kid…" he said to himself. "He's been visiting this company, always finding out where we've been working, since two years ago. Everyone here knows his name by now, and he knows all of ours, but he still addresses us as 'mister'. The only guy he doesn't call that is Takekura, who's so hard at work he hardly sees, much less talks to him." He chuckled and resumed working.

"Boom! Ken kicks the ball sky-high, where'd it go?? Oh, it's by the goal post, and it's going, it's going…. And it's in! Yaaaahhh!" the boy held his football above his head and imitated a roaring crowd. He was passing by his high school, Deimon High, to practice his kicking, where he always did. But there was a team already practicing there. "Huh? Does Deimon have an American football team?" He strode over, watching people practice. One boy ran incredibly fast and wore an eyeshield. Another kid jumped up high and caught a ball, reminding Ken of a monkey jumping up to grab a banana from a tree. There were people of all positions practicing, but one caught his eye the most. A kicker. The player kicked a ball from nearly fifty yards away from the goal post, and it flew and flew, finally flying right in.

His kicks were just like Takekura's. However, he was now wearing a football uniform and had a new haircut. But Ken was sure that no matter how different that immense mohawk made him look, no matter how different his football uniform was from his work uniform, his kick stayed the same, but was perhaps even stronger than before. Ken stared at the player's uniform, at the two "1"s on the back. The player turned around, and noticed Ken.

"Hey, Hiruma. That kid is watching us practice. Could he be a spy from another team?" Musashi pointed. Hiruma looked up with an uninterested scowl. "No, let him watch. He's a Deimon kid." He grabbed a megaphone from a bag, and put it to his mouth.

"What are you—"

"Hey fucking kid! Come over here!" Hiruma shouted into the megaphone. Ken looked around, dumbfounded. Assuming that the "fucking kid" was him, he ran down the hill to the field where the players were practicing. By now, all of them had their eyes on him. "Hmmph." Hiruma scowled. "Definitely wouldn't do as a runningback. Hey, fucking Fatty Jr.! Get over here!" Komusubi trotted over, wearing his look of determination. Instantly, he rammed the boy, but Ken had been able to get a grip on the lineman's shoulders and almost matched his strength, despite his lack of muscles. Hiruma's expression remained unchanged, despite Kurita's excited smile in the background. "I-If I could, sir, I'd like to show you my kicks!" Ken stammered.

"No good, we already have a kicker, this fucking geezer over here."

"Oh…" However, determined to show the second-year his abilities, and possibly the man who'd inspired him to begin kicking, Ken noticed a football on a stand. He pushed past Hiruma and kicked the ball, which landed about ten yards from the goal post. Musashi looked surprised, but the decision was definitely up to Hiruma. He looked at the quarterback curiously. Hiruma's eyes definitely said "No."

"Kid." Ken looked excitedly back at Musashi. "You're nowhere near my level. You'll only be holding us back." Musashi then took another football and placed it on the stand, then kicking it right through the goal post.

The kicker now looked straight at Ken after demonstrating his kick; however, the boy didn't notice the lack of firmness in the kicker's eyes, which held only pity for him. Ken turned away and started walking, his football gripped in his shaking hands. Several paces later, he looked back at Musashi and hurled the ball to the ground. I don't need your pity. I guess I misunderstood your actions on that day. His eyes sent the message directly to his former hero; who stood there unable to say anything back and since he couldn't recognize the boy, could not receive the second half of his message. Even if he had thought of anything to reply with, it was too late; Ken was already running away.

"Damn… Damn…. DAMN…!" the boy shouted in the air. "Damn that Takekura, I hate him!" Ken was filled with anger, unable to think straight. Since the incident about an hour ago, he'd been walking around aimlessly, cursing his old hero. He reached into his bag for his football, but it wasn't there. Right… what was I thinking?! Ken swerved in the direction toward Deimon, realizing what he'd done in his anger. Football… I've come to love it when I was training to be as good as Takekura. In fact, I don't even need him anymore! I'll become a better kicker than him and then he'd take back those words he said from before! With this in mind, Ken dashed toward the high school, thinking of how humiliated the Deimon kicker would be.

The boy ran back, only to find that the team was, surprisingly, still practicing. Ken jumped behind a bush and watched intently, his eyes following the kicker's leg motions. His eyes were glued on him as he crouched down, hidden from the team. It just has to be…

Everyone was getting ready to go home, and Musashi looked back at where the boy sat. Musashi had noticed him back there a while ago, and presumably Hiruma as well. The kid hadn't moved from that position even once, not even to take a leak. That can't be healthy, Musashi thought. However, he grabbed his football stand and collected the balls he'd kicked that were now by the goalpost, then heading for the locker rooms.

Musashi just finished changing into his work uniform when he'd heard a boy's shouting. "Let me in! I have to talk to Takekura!" Why did that voice sound familiar? "Sorry, but there's nobody in the club by that name. You've probably got the wrong club, kid." Juumonji. Musashi sighed and walked out of the locker room with his bag over his shoulder, picking his ear.

"It's fine. He's looking for me." Juumonji was clearly puzzled, but shrugged and made his way home. "Can I help you, kid?"

Ken stared intently into his hero's eyes. It was the same exact look he'd been given before Takekura beat up those guys for him. They expressed indifference, as if he'd never met him before. "W-what's up with that look? Don't you recognize me?" The boy's voice shook, filled with shock and a bit of sadness. The kicker's eyes flashed a look of sympathy, then returning to its original gaze. "Sure." He ruffled the boy's hair and walked past him. Ken was shocked; his long-time hero had mistaken him for just some fan.

"You bastard! All this time, and you don't even remember me!" the boy yelled behind him. A football hit the back of Musashi's head, but he ignored it and walked on. Without looking back, he said "Work on your kicks. Your aim is great, but it wouldn't have gotten through the goal post with that."

Ken stood there, stunned and furious. That guy probably just guessed it was a kick; how else would he have known without looking back? That stupid, showoffy jerk. Takekura had dared to insult his kicks and not recognize him. Twice in a row. It was more than what Ken could take. He grit his teeth and clenched his fist, as one might react if in extreme physical pain. But no, what he was feeling was nowhere near the realm of physical injury. He had a fresh gash in his heart, one that bled and bled and bled, and could not be cured with anti-septic cream or by "kisses from Mommy". Right there, right then, in the dim light of the streetlamp, he began to sob. Those sobs quickly transformed into cries of sadness and pain; tears overflowed and frustration poured out. He fell to the ground and pounded the dirt causing it to come up in clouds; as if he were knocking on the doorway to hell, begging it to just end it all right then. He stayed there, curled up on the ground, and couldn't stop crying, not until a long time later…

"Morning." Musashi greeted his fellow workers, it was one of the occasional days he'd come to work ever since restarting school. Whenever this was, it was always early in the morning when the sun was barely out, the only time he could come to help out without having to miss school. "Oh, Takekura! Did you see Kenny yesterday? He came around looking for you. Well, then again, when doesn't he?" one of the workers said, followed by a cheerful laugh. "Oh, but recently, he comes around at about this time, too. Wonder where he could be. He'd be ecstatic if he saw you here today."

Musashi looked thoughtfully above the fence at the tops of city building, pondering this fact, and then snapped back into reality, as if he'd realized something. "Y-yeah, he's a good kid. I haven't seen him in a while. Pretty good company to have around." He got started on building in a rush, as if wanting to check on something as quick as possible…

Still in his work uniform, Musashi ran with his bag over his shoulder toward the clubhouse. He stopped quite suddenly when he'd reached the building. By the doorway, he spotted the boy from yesterday slumped against its wall, asleep, and cradling his football in his arms. He had mud on his face and all over his shoes, and his uniform was absolutely wrinkled. Musashi was amazed, had this kid slept here since last night? It'd even drizzled at one point late into the night, so, if it was so, the boy's perseverance was incredible. Amazingly, despite the probable hardships the boy had faced over the night, he wore a faint smile. Musashi crouched down by the kid and put his hand on his shoulder. "Hey," he said in a rather gruff voice. The boy woke to a shock, and finding himself having been woken by Musashi, he glared at the kicker.

Dreams of success of becoming the greatest kicker were the kinds of dreams Ken wanted to be filled with, but instead he drifted off to sleep accompanied by old memories of Takekura and his conversations with him.

'Wow, Takekura, you're great!' he would look up at the worker, starry-eyed and say 'I want to be as great of a kicker as you are!' Takekura would then look down at him with a brotherly grin and say, 'It's possible, but you're still a runt!' 'Wow! Ya really think so? Hey, you just called me a runt!' Then the two would playfully push one another, though it always ended in the same way. Takekura would ruffle his hair. He always loved doing that, and Ken always loved it when he did.

The sound of faint laughter trapped in fond memories was shoved back into his mind when he was woken. Ken looked to find Takekura with his hand on his shoulder. He shrugged his hand off and glared at him before walking off, which turned into a run once he became sick of the feeling of Takekura's eyes watching his back. Who cares if he watches me practice? It'll only show him how much he should be afraid of me!

Musashi followed Ken to the football field, where the boy had found a football stand, then taking his ball and placing it on the stand. He then gave it a good kick, which caused it to then fly toward the goalpost. Musashi had realized the kid's potential when he'd kicked the ball the day before, but Hiruma had thought one kicker was enough. That same day Hiruma had also stated that the kid had slight potential as a lineman but would need severe training to be as good as the ones already on their team. As Musashi thought of these things, the boy was setting up to kick the ball again. He watched the ball soar and hit the goal post. "Hey, kid." The boy stopped in his tracks as he was about to retrieve his ball.

"What do you want?" he said, much differently and much more rudely than how he spoke before to Hiruma.

"You've got potential."

"But I'm nowhere near your level, am I right?"

"Wrong. I had to say what I did, the captain of the team thought one kicker would be enough for the team. But you're good. You just need more training. How long since you started football?"

"When'd you start playing again, Takekura?" Musashi's eyes went wide, but he grinned at the kid before him.

"I thought it was you. But… you changed so much I couldn't be sure." Musashi scratched his head, "How long has it been since I've last seen you? Anyway, it's been a long time. You grew a lot, really."

"And you got a mohawk," he grinned right back at him.

"So, are you serious about American football? About becoming a kicker, I mean?"

"You should know that better than anyone else." Ken's eyes certainly reflected his determination, and Musashi already knew the answer before even meeting his gaze.

"I'm off to see the old man, anyway. If you'd like, I'll teach you how to kick tomorrow morning at this field. Your kicking is more reckless than mine." He chuckled.

"You got it, Takekura. Better not be late!"

Ken watched Takekura walk off to classes, and stood there absentmindedly for a while. After several moments, thoughts finally began to form in his mind, thoughts of thankfulness and happiness… Thank god… He didn't forget. He smiled and began to cry just a little. "Ah, stupid allergies," the boy rubbed at his eyes, not wanting to show his happiness, despite no one else being there. However, in a second he got over it, and the tears flowed more freely down his face. Unlike last night, those tears were ones of happiness. Thank god, thank god…He began to laugh, all the while still crying and rubbing at his eyes.

The morning bell rung, signifying that in five minutes classes would begin. "T-this is no time to cry!" Ken wiped all the tears from his face, and smiled. He grabbed his football and rushed toward the school.

Musashi looked out the window, watching as Ken ran from the football field. He'd seen it all, the crying, the smiling, and could pretty much read what was going through the boy's head. He smirked, saying "So, Hiruma, he can join now right? Hopefully all that was enough for you?" Hiruma, seated at his desk, looked up at his classmate with tired eyes. "Yeah… from what I saw last night, the fucking kid is a fighter. He's on the team, and if he doesn't join, I'll make him." Kurita jumped up and down excitedly, saying "A new member! This will make the fourteenth player on our team!"

"Yeah," Musashi said, picking his ear. He looked back at the window, now focused on the football field. "Knowing that kid, he'll probably set his clock for five in the morning tomorrow…" He chuckled, and then said no more. Instead he sat himself down, remembering and thinking. That crybaby kid I knew two years ago…Is no longer. Instead, in his place, now stands a much stronger, more determined boy. Musashi smiled to himself, closing his eyes so he could sleep. He would need it if he wanted to practice with his apprentice tomorrow morning.

This is the end of Ken's joining the Deimon Devil Bats. I had fun writing this, especially since Musashi's my favorite character. Again. I don't know if I'll continue it. If I get positive feedback, or if I get inspiration, I might add one or two more Ken fanfics. I feel like I kind of stretched the ending, hopefully it's not too bad anyways. Thanks for reading, please continue to support me in the future!