The door to the Deimon High American Football Club slams open. Mamori stands in the doorway, furiously clenching and unclenching her fists. Yoichi blinks once in her direction before returning to his laptop. If the fucking manager has something to say, he'll consider listening, until then he had bigger fish to fry.
"Hiruma-san, please be Sena's boyfriend." Mamori finally blurts out, in a fury of barely discernable babble and grimacing. It seems like it's physically paining her to ask this. If Yoichi was anyone besides himself, he would've choked on his own spit. As it was, he made a living off of being unreadable and simply glances up, raising an eyebrow.
"Fucking manager, if you're on drugs I'm not blackmailing you out of rehab." He says. Mamori's flushes red with anger, but stands her ground. She's serious, Yoichi realizes, with no small degree of shock.
"I don't want to ask this of anyone, but right now, you're the best choice I have." Mamori says solemnly. Yoichi sets the laptop aside and seats himself at one end of a long table. Mamori copies him, sitting at the other end and primly lacing her fingers together.
"Sena's swamped right now." Mamori finally continues. "He's not the smartest book-wise, but he's always been good with people and he's starting to notice the way people look at him. It wouldn't be so bad but there are a lot of people, most of them either bigger than him, incredibly dangerous or both. A few of them I doubt would accept no at any point in time." Mamori swallows nervously, staring at her hands. "Sena can't handle this. I know I've said that a lot, but this time I'm positive." Mamori looks up again, her eyes blazing. Yoichi, listening neutrally, is beginning to see the somewhat convoluted reasoning behind Mamori's request. "He needs time to decide who he wants to be with, if he even wants to be with anyone. As it is, he's so stressed he can't even sleep, let alone think."
"So why ask me? The linebacker from Ojo, or the other midget are clearly better choices." Yoichi says dismissively, though he's actually rather curious why the fucking manager did pick him. It's not everyday she asks for something, doesn't demand or tell but asks, knowing full well he could blackmail her with any request. Mamori looks at him seriously, if anyone still believed he had a soul, she would've been looking straight into it.
"I trust you." She says after a long pause. "I trust if Sena develops feelings for you during this pretense, you won't abuse them. I trust you won't force him into anything he hasn't explicitly given you permission for. You were, and are, the best choice. You can keep his suitors at bay and let him think. Besides which you've shown fewer signs than any of the other options of romantic interest in Sena. And this way, I'll be close enough to watch." Mamori pauses, to let her words really sink in, before adding "and because I'll owe you one. I know you'll respect that, and won't do anything towards Sena to make me retract my end of the bargain."
It's a tempting offer, Yoichi isn't afraid to acknowledge this is the best he's been painted since he was in grade school. But he's not an idiot, and he refuses to walk blindly into any situation. "Three questions." He says, holding up three fingers. "One, you say relationship- tell me exactly what you are expecting from this farce. Two, there are obviously stipulations on the 'one' you owe me, you aren't an idiot, so explain those as well." Yoichi goes silent, curling his fingers in on themselves and reclining back in his chair.
Mamori cocks her head to the side. "That's only two questions." She points out, sounding much more relieved than she had entering the club room.
"I'm saving the third." Yoichi replies, with a patented Cheshire grin. Mamori wrinkles her nose, but doesn't object again.
"One, I expect you to keep him a safe distance from the people he is aware have feelings for him. I expect you to grant him a time out, if you would, a respite during which he can think through his feelings. Anything beyond that is entirely up to Sena and will have to be discussed with him." Mamori semi-mockingly raises a finger, and then another. "Two, if Sena would cry if it were suggested to him, I can't do it." Mamori says, and then nods, satisfied.
"That is a very broad ranger, fucking manager. Is there anything the damn shrimp doesn't cry at?" Yoichi scoffs, but Mamori's answer won't change, and they both know it.
"Do we have a deal or not?" Mamori asks, head held high.
"Fine. When the fucking shrimp is ready to talk, I'll be here." Yoichi responds, waving Mamori off. She leaves quietly and Yoichi snorts, shaking his head. He'd thought today was going to be boring.