Disclaimer: I'd never own this series. Not in a million years. But please allow me this small pleasure of imagining I can.

Summary: This story does not contain spoilers. It's just purely out of my imagination. The rainy season sort of affects my brain or something… It's about football, love, and life. It's about Hiruma (and then some other people).

Chapter 1: A REAL beginning, at last?

The sound of raindrops pounding on the roof, the rustle of leaves against the window, the slapping of feet on the wet pavement, and then the door opening – a silhouette against the gloom outside…

Where have you been, Youichi?

- - -

He opened his eyes. Sunlight is pressing upon the glass wall of his apartment, overlooking the city. He got up and walked towards the glare, almost automatically, solemnly, looked out to the world, his world. It was the same every single morning: long ago memory visiting his dreams, then the sunlight, and then the sky. He seemed free. He wanted to be free. Why does he have to go back to take off the chains?

There is much inevitability in life, he thought, as he brushed his teeth. He recalled them, those instances, beginning from when he was young. He remembered how he tried to fight them, how he won at times, and how he lost as much. Then he began his mind ritual of convincing himself that he should stop running away and face them again, at least for the last time.

The world is waiting though.

- - -

"He has a light blue tie on", whispered the receptionist to the other. She's blond, while the other one is brunette. The brown-haired one looked towards the object of this seemingly unimportant observation. But when she saw who it was, she beamed, looked back at the blond-haired one and they both giggled.

The one with the blue tie reached the desk to get his morning paper, face devoid of smile or expression. As he reached out for the paper, the brunette greeted:

"Good morning, Mr. Hiruma", smiling, showing off her nice cleavage.

He blinked, almost grunted, and gave up some sort of expression closest to a smile, the least he could muster. But it was enough, for both receptionists blushed and beamed.

"Did you see that? Did you see? He smiled at me!"

"I know, oh, I should have said it Japanese, I could have gotten something more from him, maybe his number.." the blonde lamented over her friends good fortune.

"Oh, you wish, haha" the brunette replied with an air of triumph.

- - -

The offices of FBL Incorporated are located in a 35-floor Manhattan building. The President's office is at the 29th floor. It was a clean rectangular place, without any pictures or designs on the walls. Only one object gleamed on the big mahogany desk: a football, with many notes and signatures on its surface. Hiruma Youichi, 27 years old, bachelor, former quarterback of his high school Amefuto Club, and one of the wealthiest men in New York, walked into his office after making 2 receptionists, several secretaries (both the young and the matronly), a few office clerks, and a dozen or so busy Manhattan professionals, blush. This is how his day starts. At first he was a bit befuddled knowing that he can make people nervous even without holding some type of ammunition. After some time he got used to it. He doesn't dress to impress people or to make ladies weak in the knees. He just knew that he has to convey some sort of authority. And where guns and flamethrowers are unacceptable, a mysterious and well put together façade is most effective.

On his way to work, he had finally convinced himself to take a step towards the inevitable. And so this early morning, he opens his laptop and begins to work, searching for clues, facts, people, places he hasn't been to for so long but remembered like yesterday. His old laptop crashed years ago, and his black book has finally run out of space. Both have been replaced. Because old habits die hard, and some are just too useful to get rid off. It was already almost noon when his assistant, a young Harvard graduate named Robin, knocked on the door and peeked in.

"Mr Hiruma, sir, you have a visitor. I'm afraid he's not in your appointment book. I've explained to him, sir, that you dislike being disturbed, but he asked me to tell you that 'the-' –er- 'the fucking old man' is here", he explained for his intrusion, looking a bit confused and more than a little curious.

Hiruma's eyebrows twitched. Old Man?

After a brief pause:

"Let him in", he answered in perfect English.

Robin was more than more than a little curious now, for this is highly irregular. His boss has just allowed himself to be interrupted! There must be something extremely important about this person. He looked at the visitor: a tall, muscular man, with a moderate tan and slightly bearded face. He doesn't look very much like a Japanese, but his accent tells otherwise.

"Mister –er- sir, Mr. Hiruma has requested you to go inside his office", he told the visitor.

The man nodded and walked directly to the President's office without another word. While the young assistant thought: This is very curious indeed.

- - -

Takekura Gen, former kicker of Deimon Amefuto Club and currently president of his small construction company in Japan, was taken aback by his old friend's appearance. He couldn't help but smile and shake his head.

"I can't believe this.."

"Tch. What is so fucking hard to believe, fucking old man?" the equally surprised friend replied.

Oh yes, there was the gum, and that tone; it is definitely him, Gen thought.

"I'd have to say you look much more striking without the blond hair and absurd contact lenses", he said back.

"Is that why you're here? To criticize my fashion style?" the other one spat back, but unable to control the happiness spreading on his face upon seeing his old friend again. He suddenly stood up and looked outside at blue sky over Manhattan.

"Ah, it's beautiful here, but you should come back to Japan," Gen mused, looking lost at the scene in front of him.

"Tch. What's so fucking new in Japan? It's definitely more interesting here"

"Ah, nothing much; I'd have to agree with you on that..", he exclaimed scratching his head.

"I just thought that maybe it's time for you to settle some things. You know, some things you left behind. I thought you might want someone to be there with you, in case.." he trailed off.

"Hn"

"Youichi, I know you've found her. I think it's time to take it further and make your peace", Gen added, finally expressing his concern.

The other man did not acknowledge this however, but continued to stare outside. But his friend knew that a lot of things are currently going through the devil's mind.

Another sign of impending inevitability coming my way, Hiruma thought. And he still remembered what he told him last, about his most childish and most absurd little weakness. But there are so many other things he didn't know, so many things he kept to himself.

The rain, the sound of running feet, the club door opening, and the most memorable figure -- still etched on his mind, until now.

"You can stay at my place tonight. Let's get some fucking lunch", was his final reply.

The other man smiled. Still unsure, but almost there – you have nothing to lose, Youichi, nothing at all. But the question is: are you ready for what you can gain?

They left the room, with a final look at the sunny sky. Manhattan is really a nice place. But in Japan, the cherry trees are in full bloom. Gen wished they can be back there in time to see the most beautiful ones of the year.