A fanfiction inspired by the NFL tournament taking place this month.

Summary: Most people seem to forget that there were two sports called as "football". But Sting's friends were always at odds when debating which of the two was the "real" deal.

The life of a student athlete was not an easy one. Being a college halfback only made it harder.

A pencil flew across paper furiously, occasionally creating a small rip that made Orga swear. But some wear and tear didn't steer him away from his task. As much as he hated his homework, he had to get it done. Nothing was going to get in the way of him maintaining his GPA.

So he thought, before someone began to play the electric guitar rather loudly, followed by another on the drums.

The pencil in Orga's hand snapped in response to this distraction. "Spit Fire! Sting! Keep it down, will ya!" he screamed to the two in his—as Orga like to call it—"band corner". "And go to your own dorms!"

Spit Fire—a black-haired young man with a pair of orange goggles over his eyes—proceeded to scat sing while he went wild on the electric guitar. This only gave Sting a cue to beat a drum solo, effectively drowning out Orga's command.

"If you got rid of the guitar and the drum set, they'd stop coming over," Rogue said while the larger man tossed a balled up sheet of paper at the duo playing with his instruments.

Orga merely grunted in response as he returned to his homework. He tried his best to focus again, but with Sting and Spit Fire on the stage, he shrugged in defeat. "Remind me again why I invited them over."

"Actually, you only invited me," Rogue informed with a dark expression reminiscent of a sneer, remembering how the muscled football player made him his English tutor by coercion. Though Orga claimed he barely used any force, he remembered how the panicking behemoth grabbed him by his collar and nearly begged him to help with his English—all while Rogue dangled over the floor. "The other two are part of your "band"," he added, referring to Orga's so-called rock band, which was really just them playing whatever they wanted. Sting came around so he could play on a drum set that he didn't pay for while Spit Fire couldn't last even a day without playing some kind of guitar at least once. He claimed this was due to a childhood spent playing Guitar Hero and the ukulele. With a childhood like that, the dark-haired man was not surprised that Spit Fire was part of the university's resident guitar club.

"Actually, I remember bringing Sting over to help with Physics," Orga grumbled before he turned to yell at the would-be Physics Major on stage, "before he completely forgot why I invited him!"

Rogue could only shrug at his hopeless case of a best friend. "If Sting can't help, then call Dobengal."

"Fat chance I'm calling him," Orga grunted, returning to his English homework without warning. The drumming began to die down as Sting motioned for Spit Fire to quit playing so they could hear the conversation. "That guy doesn't even take Physics."

"He took AP Physics last year," Rogue reminded, "which he passed with a five on the exam."

At the mention of the score, Sting hit the cymbals rather violently, bringing the attention to him. "I swear that guy cheated on the test!" the blond hissed, pounding away on the drum kit. "I mean, no one gets a five on those tests! The highest I ever got on those tests was a four!" he finished, striking the floor tom.

"Hey! Careful with that!" Orga warned.

"If you ask me, Sting," Spit Fire noted while he returned to the electric guitar, "you're just hacked off because Dobengal didn't choose to major in Physics."

"What's the point of taking AP Physics if you're not gonna major in it?! I swear—!"

"Even if he's not taking Physics now, he still has the general knowledge," Rogue continued, ignoring the duo's bickering on the stage.

"...I'm still not calling him over," Orga grumbled.

Rogue frowned at Orga's refusal to ask Dobengal to come over. Usually he would welcome help from his friends, but why not now? "You know he has just as much knowledge as Sting, if not more."

"Hey!" Sting yelled indignantly.

Spit Fire raised his hand as though asking for permission to speak, a habit he unconsciously adapted from his Japanese class. "I know why Orga doesn't want Dobengal over." The guitarist pushed his goggles up as his mouth curled into a sneer. "It's because Dobengal plays real football."

Orga's head whipped towards Spit Fire so quickly, Rogue swore he heard his neck crack. "It's not real football, Spit Fire," he growled, narrowing his eyes at the guitarist. "What you and that midget play is SOCCER!"

Rogue should have known this was why Orga didn't want Dobengal to help him. They were already in college, but the old soccer-football feud never died when they left high school. Orga was the school's halfback due to his size, which was matched only by Magnolia High's lineman, Elfman Strauss. Dobengal, on the other hand, served as a striker on the soccer team, though the coach sometimes relegated him to defender if the situation called for it.

"It's international football, Orga!" Spit Fire shot back. "You only call it soccer because this country didn't wanna call their version of 'football' rugby!"

"Do NOT compare football to 'rugby'! Football is way more awesome and violent!"

"You only call it violent because of all the safety gear you wear! Rugby doesn't even have that kind of stuff! Face it, you wear that safety gear because you guys can't take a hit like real men!"

"At least we're better than you soccer dorks! We actually get injured! You guys fake injuries to get the other team out!"

"Dobengal actually sprained his ankle that one game!" Spit Fire spat, pointing the guitar pick threateningly at Orga. "What injuries do you get with all that thick gear! If anything, you guys shouldn't be able to feel a thing!"

Rogue rubbed his forehead irritably while the argument between the two steadily gained volume. He locked eyes with Sting, who pointed a drum stick at the door. 'Wanna go get a bite?' he mouthed.

Rogue was already at the door and Sting slipped past the bickering duo unnoticed. As they left the apartment, they couldn't help but wince as a crash sounded from inside. "You are SO LUCKY that didn't break, Spit Fire!"

Those two had a serious problem when it came to football.

Author's note:

Soccer is officially called association football. Obviously, the sport is called something different by country, but most languagesthough the spelling differswill pronounce it 'football'.

American football originated from rugby football, or rugby for short. However, rugby players don't wear heavy gear like American football players. Instead, they wear light padding and a mouth guard.

Spit Fire is one of my OCs who made his appearance earlier in The Unwound Future. I'll go on to expand his character later.

I know many of you were expecting me to update The Unwound Future and Remember Me?, but I'm having trouble focusing on them due to the workload I'm getting now that it's almost the end of the semester.