Disclaimer: This story is based on Eyeshield 21, the manga. Not the anime.

A/N: I don't know if anyone even cares about this series anymore, but I still love it, and since I've already written this much I figured I'd post it in case someone does want to read it.

Chapter 1

You better choose your words carefully because I'm not your anything

Gonna stay here in my place and you'll stay in yours

Because your only good is what you're good for

-Carry You, Jimmy Eat World

Tap, click.

Computers and surveillance networks. They went hand in hand with one another. Then they led you straight down the road to blackmail hell.

Copy, paste, delete.

His surveillance network of hacked cell phones fed images from every part of Tokyo directly to his laptop. Endless evidence of Japanese citizens committing crimes and pursuing guilty pleasures. Survival based on perfect prediction of the most effective way to use it all.

Drag, drop, click-click.

The computer allowed him to navigate the chaotic stream of data. He controlled some of the most sensitive information in all of Japan and it just sat there on his hard drive, waiting to be used.

Tap, minimize.

The laptop was endless organizing and filing that kept his calculating mind from growing stagnant.

Crop, resize, paste, exit window, click.

It was everything that mattered so far in his entire life, all contained within a single machine.

Start menu, shut down. Black screen. Silence as the fans stopped running.

But he still needed more.

Close.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Hiruma said.

There was no trembling, fearful answer. He glanced down at the alley beneath him. The shuffle of noise he'd heard wasn't the rare, curious pedestrian coming over to talk to him (the rocket launcher propped against his side was probably a strong deterrent).

Hiruma was seated on the fire escape of his hotel, where his laptop's extension cord could still reach the outlet just below his window. The backside of the business building was usually empty, but a boy about his age had appeared underneath him. He had dragged with him the body of a high school student that looked considerably bigger than him.

Of course. Criminals gathered in the same kinds of places.

The boy began to root through the student's pockets, tossing a set of keys over his shoulder. He barely spared a glance up at Hiruma before he pulled out a wallet.

"Never mind," Hiruma said. He opened his laptop again and tapped the power key. He wondered how long the boy would stay in the alley, and if any of the student's friends were chasing him. Didn't look like it.

Hiruma typed in a series of passwords and waited for his computer to boot up. Once a pile of bullet shells appeared on his desktop background, he began to search through his video files, trying to remember where he'd seen the boy before.

He'd been gathering information about the other middle school students in his area ever since the men at the American base had taught him about football. This boy wasn't in any sports clubs, though. Although it seemed like the details Hiruma recorded about people were limited to what he could use against them, he actually had a secondary purpose. Soon, he knew that he wouldn't be able to gamble with the Americans anymore, if only because he kept winning. He was planning to start a gambling ring of his own in high school that covered all the football clubs in Tokyo, and possibly the main ones for the other prefectures so that he could follow them to the nationals. He had already memorized the faces of every ace in each school, but not every great athlete joined a sports club before high school. He saved what statistics he could find on other students from their PE classes, but they mostly hung on the peripheral of his mind, side notes that he couldn't do anything with yet. He was fairly certain that he remembered this boy's face, though.

He finally found a picture of him and brought up the corresponding stats. His name was Kongo Agon, and Hiruma was right; he wasn't part of any sports clubs. But he was fast and one of the best athletes in his school. Hiruma had noted at the bottom that Agon was a showoff and arrogant as hell. He probably thought he was too good to join a sports club. People like him were common, in Hiruma's opinion. Either they joined a team and lorded themselves over everyone because of their abilities or they wasted them by refusing to train at all. Hiruma marked the folder to remind himself that he'd seen Kongo Agon in person, but kept it filed with all his other side notes. He had no use for someone who wouldn't join a sports team.

Hiruma went back to studying the videos streaming to his computer. He switched the view from several cameras in his hotel to the train station. He caught sight of a businessman in an expensive suit exchanging a wad of cash for a rolled-up paper bag and recorded the image.

Below him, Agon had stripped the student of his jacket and was robbing those pockets as well. Hiruma wished he could use that brawn to collect more blackmail info. He watched as he lifted the high school student over his shoulder and tossed him into the dumpster without even changing his breathing. But he knew that someone like Agon would never help him out willingly. Never mind that his method of finding students to mug was probably completely inefficient, way too much work for slim pickings…

His loss.

Hiruma watched Agon leave the alleyway out of the corner of his eye, and quickly switched the view on his laptop. He followed him through his cameras down the street. He kept the video stream up until he saw him get on a train headed south to Kanagawa.

He did a basic search until he found a few families in that area with the name Kongo and split his monitor into four screens, each one showing a street as close to the listed houses as he could get. He hit record and shut his laptop again with a grin.

His memory tried to tell him that there had been a hint of interest in Agon's face when he'd glanced up in the alleyway. Hiruma ignored it and climbed back through his window, ready to order his free room service from the hotel.

Four days passed and Hiruma was bored as hell. School was obnoxiously easy, as always, and the game he'd been preparing to bet on at the American base had been cancelled because of rain. It was still raining outside, and Hiruma was going to set off some hand grenades soon if something more interesting didn't happen. Fucking rain wasn't any excuse to cancel a match.

Hiruma sat by himself in a coffee shop. It had been crowded with people looking for a shelter from the rain when he'd entered it an hour ago, but it had quickly emptied out. The girl working behind the counter kept throwing him scared looks, and every time new customers walked in, they backed out as quickly as they could. Hiruma had his laptop in front of him, but hardly anyone was on the streets, where most of his cameras were. He scowled as he thought of how much work he would have to do replacing the ones that the rain ruined.

He caught himself idly flicking the safety on and off on his Browning and placed the gun down on the table. He heard a sigh of relief from the girl. He tapped a few keys, forcing himself to relax and find something to do. He could always hack the school computers and review the rosters of students in the sports clubs, just to make sure no one new had joined. Or…

He rested his left hand on the small black notebook in his pocket. His fingers flew back to the keyboard and the monitor flicked through several windows of folders before arriving at one with a picture of a red key over it. He unlocked it with a password and opened a web browser under a program that kept his history from being recorded, then typed "local shogi tournaments" into the search bar.

The shop door opened, ringing the little bell that hung above it. Hiruma glanced up automatically, then stayed absolutely still, following the figure with his eyes. It was Kongo Agon, beaming an innocent smile at the girl behind the counter.

Hiruma quickly closed all of the windows on his computer and placed his hand on the Browning again. Leaning back in his chair, he waited to see if the other boy would notice him.

Agon leaned against the counter, his smile still in place, and ordered a cup of coffee. The girl blushed and fumbled with the cash register. When she told him the total, he just asked what time she got off work. The girl giggled and went to get the drink.

Hiruma watched this with interest. The moment the girl's back was turned, Agon's expression grew bored and he began to fiddle with the tip jar. He glanced up at the girl, still busy with the coffee machine, and silently pocketed the folded bills. A smirk washed briefly over his features before he again caught the girl's eye and smiled. He thanked her for the coffee and turned away. As he did so, his eyes snagged on Hiruma's.

"What are you looking at, fag?" he growled. Hiruma's grin widened, baring his sharp teeth. Agon frowned, and then raised an eyebrow in recognition. "Aren't you the guy from the alleyway?" he asked, his eyes lingering on the gun in Hiruma's hand.

Hiruma cackled and shut his laptop. He jerked his head towards the door. "Got a minute, fucking blondie?"

The scowl deepened to a glare as Agon's free hand shot up to his hair. Before he could protest, Hiruma looked pointedly at the tip jar. "Excuse me, miss," he said in his most polite voice, which sounded more artificial than generic orange soda.

Agon's eyes widened. The girl looked up and flinched at Hiruma's expression.

"…one coffee, please," he finished. He saw the tension go out of the other boy's shoulders and his smirk grew. He took the paper cup the girl handed him and threw it away before following Agon out of the shop, laptop bag slung over his shoulder and Browning casually resting in his hand.

Agon glanced back to make sure Hiruma was following him. Hiruma kept his smirk in place as they went down the street. The rain was running down his face and washing the gel out of his hair, but he barely noticed. This was exactly the opportunity he'd been waiting for. He'd watched Agon on his cameras for a few days well enough to know that he was often in this area of Tokyo. He'd also seen enough to know that if he approached Agon on his own, he'd never get anything from him. He had to make the encounter as coincidental as possible. There was little chance that he'd actually make Agon afraid of him, but he could at least make him wary.

Agon stopped at the corner and turned around to face him. Hiruma saw the growing irritation, the hint of curiosity just barely enough to keep Agon there for a few minutes. That was all it would take.

"Well, what? Have you been stalking me or something?" Agon sneered. He drank half of his coffee down in one gulp.

Hiruma slowly pulled the black notebook out of his pocket and opened it to a page at random.

"Kongo Agon," he pretended to read. "Recently stole money from a coffee shop. Yesterday, robbed an innocent young girl of her wallet and her virginity. Skipped school all last week. Attacked and robbed two high school students." Hiruma raised his eyebrows. "Recently made a sexual advance towards a male student of his middle school and was turned down flat."

"That's a fucking lie!" Agon threw his coffee cup on the ground and grabbed Hiruma's collar. Hiruma's face was still locked in its toothy grin, but behind the mask almost the entirety of his attention was on Agon's other hand. He knew how fast the other boy was, but under no circumstances could he allow himself to be hit. It would ruin everything if Agon thought he could overpower him.

Pocketing the notebook, he shoved the barrel of the Browning under Agon's jaw. He stiffened and relaxed his grip enough to let Hiruma step back.

"I want you to be my thug," Hiruma said curtly. "One job for every piece of dirt I have on you."

"Why me?" The low voice was suspicious.

Hiruma shrugged casually. "Because you look dumb enough to start a fight and strong enough to win it."

Agon growled low in his throat, but didn't move. He weighed Hiruma carefully with his eyes.

"Plus," Hiruma added, "you're bored. Or do you like only targeting weaklings and desperate girls?"

"You're one to talk, you skinny asshole," Agon muttered, but his eyes flicked towards the Browning. "So, what, be like a bodyguard?"

Hiruma snorted. "It'd be more like what you do now, except you'd mug the people I tell you to." He glanced again at Agon's other hand, which clenched slightly, then lifted the gun away. "I'd let you keep any money you found, of course." He stepped back again as Agon released his collar completely.

The mention of money made Agon actually listen to him, but the dark eyes still looked suspicious. Hiruma waited. He didn't really care enough about Agon to sell him out to the police if he refused. Forcing him into anything would likely just end in Hiruma's arm being broken. Or worse. Still, Agon could be useful for a lot of things.

Hiruma noted a slight shrug as Agon made up his mind. "Fine. But if this shit gets boring, then I'm out of here."

Hiruma's grin widened. "Then come with me, fucking blondie." He reached into his bag and pulled out a pair of dark shades.

Agon stared at them, then glanced up at the still-clouded sky. Hiruma shoved them onto Agon's face impatiently.

"Just wear them. I want to see those on your face every time you do a job."

Hiruma waited for him to fix the glasses before he began to walk. Agon stayed a few paces behind him, but Hiruma was careful not to walk so fast that Agon felt like he was following instead of walking with him. It was important to let him think that he still had some control. Set up the dynamics of this partnership right from the start.

The calculating part of his mind analyzed this with the precision he'd learned from his father. The part of him that just wanted to cause some chaos cackled in anticipation.

They walked five blocks to an arcade, Agon muttering the whole way about how long this was taking. Hiruma led him inside and gestured with his gun to two boys wearing the Maou Middle School uniform.

"Try and get them outside," Hiruma suggested. Agon snorted and moved forward.

He didn't say a word, just grabbed one of them by the shoulder, spun him around, and decked him. No threat, no explanation, nothing. His fist closed around the second boy's collar and he sneered. Hiruma watched Agon's eyes look over at him and he gave his most demonic smile as he cocked the Browning. The boy whimpered.

Agon dragged him outside after motioning for the first boy to follow them. Hiruma walked ahead of them to the side of the building and stood back to watch Agon work.

It took less than a minute to get both boys on the ground. They were weak, and Agon was a beast when he fought, unleashing all of his considerable strength into each blow, refusing to hold back in the slightest. The boys' whimpers only seemed to fuel his attacks; he grinned when one of them landed a weak kick on his shin before he chopped him on the head. The boy plummeted to the ground.

The sharp-toothed smile stretching across Hiruma's face relaxed into a real one, no less terrifying. Agon was obviously enjoying this, the way that Hiruma enjoyed having so many people under his control. Finally, someone who wouldn't try to reform him or tell him that he had more potential than this, who knew this dark joy as intimately as he did. Hiruma's smile widened as he reorganized his picture of Agon in his head.

As Agon bent down to start looking for money, Hiruma stepped forward. He wanted a chance to speak before they passed out.

"Fucking stop trying to win our classmates' loyalty. Maou is mine, shitheads," he said coolly. Both boys nodded vigorously, their eyes fixed nervously on Hiruma's index finger toying with the trigger.

Agon pocketed the cash he found and kicked one of the boys. "Get out of here, trash."

They scrambled away as quickly as their battered bodies would let them. Hiruma cackled, then found himself shoved against the brick wall, Agon's forearm pressing the air out of his lungs.

"Now give me that notebook," he growled. The sunglasses had slipped down his nose to reveal scowling eyes.

Hiruma tried to bring up his gun and found his wrist pinned against the rough brick as well. "Fuck," he hissed as he felt the bones grind. "You think that's the only place I've got the evidence? Deal's a deal, one job per piece of dirt I've got on you."

"And how many is that?"

"Twelve."

Agon's grip loosened slightly, then both hands shot forward to snag Hiruma's laptop bag from him. A cold metal barrel was pressed to the nape of Agon's neck the next instant, but he already had the laptop out. He lifted his arms, ready to throw it. Hiruma tensed.

Technically, it would still be all right. He had everything backed up multiple times, and the few recent things he didn't would be easy enough to find again. Reconnecting all his camera videos to a new laptop would be a bitch, but it was doable. And it wasn't like Hiruma had much else to do when he wasn't on the base.

What really worried him was that he might have judged Agon incorrectly. He felt like he understood him, even after only a few days of watching, because something in them was similar. He had thought that this plan would work. He cast around for a way to salvage the situation, to not let Agon walk away with the upper hand.

Agon stood up before he made a decision. "Make sure I get to bone a pretty girl next time and I'm in."

Without missing a beat, Hiruma planted a smirk on his face and lifted the gun. "Deal, fucking blondie." He snickered as Agon's eyebrow twitched. The taller boy dumped the laptop in his arms and walked away without glancing back. He didn't look like someone who'd just sold his soul to the devil. Hiruma wavered slightly in his decision, but reminded himself of how quickly Agon had taken down those two boys. He could definitely use him.

He zipped his laptop back into the bag, irritated that it had gotten wet at all. Heading back to his hotel, he tried not to think too hard about what he would have done if the laptop had been smashed. It would have been fine. Really.

"Fucking pathetic," he muttered.