Title: Novellus
Disclaimer: I do not own the series or characters involved in this story.
Warnings: AU, non-canon genders, gender-sliding, romance
Relationship: Hiruma/Sena
Summary: "I just want to play football." But when you're not the typical sort of football player – small, frail, and not-all-that male – things can be tough. Sena just might end up being the biggest football sensation, or the next failed celebrity.
Notes: Chapter two of the updated 'Novellus', in which Hiruma is properly introduced.
Please read & review. This is an in-process work. I also have a poll on what I should work on next.
Chapter Two
Sena held the latest photo book in her hands, flipping quietly through each page.
"Sawai-san is an excellent photographer, isn't she?" Tanaka said, grinning as he tapped one of the books on the table. Sena nodded. Her agent was incredibly pleased, of course, that the new photos were out, were going to bring in money, that Sena would be going to signings and smiling at the fans. And, as she flicked through the book, Sena was happy too.
She'd become an idol through modeling, and as she peered at the pictures before her, she remembered exactly why she attended practice and stood in front of the cameras.
Momo Productions had kept their word, all on the chance for a good product - Sena Kobayakawa, the non-binary model turned idol, who sported elegant suits and frilly dresses based on how she was feeling. Fans called Sena 'they' and 'them', and they all ate up interviews with Sena talking excitedly about her varied hobbies. About what it meant to be outside of male and female, to be something that Sena could only call 'new'.
Looking at the pictures of herself, she couldn't help but feel that the photographer had captured exactly what it meant to be 'Sena'.
Tanaka sent her off with a copy of the book and well wishes for the new school year -
And that was how Sena started high school.
That, and Mamori meeting her outside the train station, trying to shove another hat on her.
"It'll be okay, Mamori-neesan," Sena consoled, shoving the hat away as playfully as she could. She laughed as Mamori finally relented and shoved the baseball cap into her bag. "I doubt anyone will realize who I am. I look so plain in person."
Mamori still sighed as they made their way out of the station and toward Deimon. "I think you underestimate people," Mamori said under her breath. She snatched Sena's wrist and began tugging her along all the same, though. Sena smiled.
They were a block away from Deimon and Sena was talking about her next dance rehearsal when the screams came. And Sena knew them immediately for what they were, her ears fine-tuned to the shrieks and cries. She'd been hearing them for two years, after all.
Fans.
Girls, boys, and everyone in between and outside was huddled near the entrance to the school - and most of them were definitely not wearing Deimon's uniform. They waved and cheered at Sena, still a block away. Some of them were holding signs. Huge hearts and declarations of love adorned some of the signs; others held simple wishes for the new school year. Sena felt her knees wobble. Thank god for wearing pants, she thought as she stared at the crowd.
"Told you," Mamori murmured. She sighed heavily. "Let's go do this."
With a firm nod, Mamori stepped toward the crowd. Sena could only follow, and the second she set her foot down, she felt her face fall into place. Perfect small smile. Gentle waves. Hold onto her bag, just in case. Take measured steps, never too fast or too slow. Back straight, head straight, skim her eyes along the crowd. Don't make eye contact for too long.
The crowd only screamed louder as she walked into it, pushing through to make it to school.
"Sena!" people cried, hands reaching out. "Sena!"
For anyone else, surely the cries of their name would set their heart on fire. The thrill, the adoration, all of it. But Sena wanted to run into the school, not walk pleasantly through the massive amount of adorers. She wanted to sprint until her lungs and legs gave out. She didn't want to tilt her head so her hair cascaded over her shoulder and smile winningly.
"Can you believe they're going to Deimon?" some people asked, attempts at whispering in the crowd turning into larger cries.
"Such an ordinary school!"
"Such an ordinary life!"
As Sena spun on her heel and waved her fans goodbye, her heart panged with the knowledge that this was far from an ordinary life.
School itself was absolutely, completely, and utterly worse. Constant calls of "Sena-chan!" and blushing boys approaching her with soft remarks for "Kobayakawa-kun". And even more "Kobayakawa-san", pushing her farther and farther away from her classmates as if she lived in another realm entirely, even while she was sitting right next to them.
(Sure, she lived in a different world. One where she spent way too many nights sweating over dances and smiling just right for the camera. One where every last piece of clothing had to be tailored.
She really, really loved the sweatpants that she'd somehow hidden from Tanaka's tailor-crazed demands. Beautiful, beautiful sweatpants that didn't fit quite right.)
"I'm so happy you're in our class, Sena-chan!"
"Do you wanna go out for karaoke after school, Kobayakawa-kun?"
"Kobayakawa-san, are you good at math? I'm not good at math."
The end of school came like a shining beacon of hope, and before the classroom even knew what happened, Sena had flown on swift feet out of the class and down the stairs, straight into the most abandoned section of the school she could find.
She breathed in deeply. Perhaps she had miscalculated. Compared to her pictures plastered over Tokyo, compared to the photoshoots, compared to the concerts, to the fashion shows, to the magazine spreads, Sena was plain. Quiet, withdrawn, shy. When she stepped in front of a camera, a whole new side blossomed from her, one which was confident, happy, exuberant. She'd thought, like in her previous school, people wouldn't notice her much. Or those that did would simply move on, realizing that the idol people called Tokyo's 'little flower' was much more boring in person.
No one seemed to be moving on. Her knees clacked together threateningly.
But everyone was using 'they' or 'her', and remembering that made her knees still in their shaking. Her breathing evened out. People were being overwhelming, shoving into her space, speaking too loud and too quickly, but they seemed enamored with her - for her. For Sena. She placed a hand over her chest.
More than anything, she owed the scout at Momo Productions for allowing her a chance at that sort of peace.
Students were yelling for their friends, making plans for the afternoon, and hesitantly, Sena stuck her head out.
Deimon High rose above her, not all that intimidating, a simple school with simple trees and simple students milling about. A group of young girls laughed. The air smelled crisp and sharp against Sena's nose.
There was a reason she'd come to this school, and she stepped from her hiding spot into the courtyard of Deimon. A few people saw her and waved. She inclined her head.
And then she asked them where, maybe, perhaps? she could find Yoichi Hiruma.
Yoichi Hiruma was a strange man. He held almost everyone in Tokyo in the palm of his hand, pulling strings to achieve his every desire. He strutted about with guns slung over his shoulder and hidden in what could only have been magical, endless pockets. He dressed like the demon he was, from his piercings to his black skin-tight clothes.
And since Sena had seen him a year ago on the field, the idol had know she'd had to have him. Because there was fire in his eyes, and if anyone could find a way for her to play football while the rest of the world conspired for her not to, it would be that man.
She didn't care what anyone said - she was going to make Yoichi Hiruma, the demon of Tokyo, her quarterback.
If she could find him, that was. She stared at the shabby shack before her. People she had spoken to about the football club had pointed her here with quivering fingers. But all she could hear was the soft swish of the wind through the trees. Gingerly, she opened the door and peeked inside. Darkness was all that greeted her.
Hiruma wasn't here either, and with a sorrowful sigh she shut the door. She'd gone all over her new school in pursuit of the quarterback, with absolutely nothing to show for it. Maybe she should have learned more before trying to hunt down the man. But she couldn't ask Mamori for help. She bit her cheek hard. Agon had outright refused to talk about Hiruma, so he was out too. Ichiro would know what she was plotting immediately, stupid perceptive guy that he was. She scuffed her shoe on the ground before sighing again.
She would just come back tomorrow.
Just as she was turning around, however, a shadow fell over her. She jumped and looked up.
Right at the man she'd been looking for.
"Yoichi Hiruma!" she cried.
The demon frowned down at her - he was taller face to face than he had looked on the field. He had a plastic bag from the convenience store in his hand, and a small pink bubble popped from his lips. His eyes bore down at her, and Sena pressed herself against the door.
Which wasn't as closed as she thought, and with a yelp she went tumbling backward.
Instinctively, she reached for something, anything to hold onto. But the only thing in front of her was Hiruma, and a mortified blush flared on her face as she latched onto her upperclassman's jacket.
'Oh no,' she thought.
"Fuck," was all Hiruma said as they fell down into the shed. Dust erupted around them as they sprawled on the ground, a loud 'thud' greeting them as they collided with the floor.
Sena couldn't bear to look at Hiruma. Of all the ways to meet the man, she'd chosen dragging him on top of her into a deserted, dusty club shed. The smell of him was more overpowering than the must, like mint and soap all around her, and the weight of him was even stronger. Her head should surely be throbbing from the fall.
But it wasn't, and with a deepening blush she realized that Hiruma's hands - huge, huge hands - had kept her from banging against the floor too badly.
'Mother in heaven,' she prayed as she felt Hiruma lift himself away from her, 'this wasn't what I meant when I said I'd make him mine.'
She slowly peeked at the quarterback, who had risen off of her completely.
He was glaring at her, his lips drawn down in what must have been offense. He brushed off dirt from his uniform and picked up his forgotten bag, his every movement stiff. She gulped.
"The fuck was that?" he snapped at her. She flinched and stood as well, wiping off the dirt from her own pants.
"I," she started. Hiruma waved his hand - she couldn't get the feel of his hand, how damn large it was, out of her mind - to silence her.
"I know you fell down," he said snidely, flicking on the shed light. Sena tried to ignore the mess it revealed. "I want to know about the 'make him mine' shit you were saying."
"Oh God," Sena said, her heart clattering all the way past her feet. "I didn't - it doesn't mean anything. I didn't mean to say that out loud, I just, it's just that."
And even though her face was blushing hard enough she was worried she'd be stuck red-faced forever, even though she couldn't give a good reason, even though she'd just blurted out the most embarrassing thing she could think of to the one person who would never forget what she said - Hiruma laughed. He was busy cleaning off a table and chairs, kicking equipment off haphazardly, but he laughed.
"Calm the hell down," he advised. He kicked a chair at her, and she didn't need to be told twice to sit down. "I just thought it was interesting, was all." He swung out a kettle and cups, and before Sena was quite she what was happening, Hiruma had made her tea and she was sitting across from him, only a rickety plastic table separating them.
She stared into her tea. Normally she would take sugar with it, but she didn't have the strength to ask for any. She wasn't sure she even had the strength to do what she had come here to do.
She had imagined this moment for a year. She would be accepted into Deimon and go up to the football club and then she'd - she'd demand to be let into the club. She would come face to face with Yoichi Hiruma and hold her head up high and for the second time in her life she would really demand something. And Hiruma, the demon of Deimon, would do what she wanted because she was confident and unafraid and…
And instead she was bowing her head toward her tea and waiting for her blush to fade.
He probably thinks I'm some weird stalker, she thought morosely, sipping at her tea.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come," she began to say in a rush, pushing her chair out.
"You came to one of our games last year," he said at the same time.
His voice was like an arrow that hit her in the chest, and Sena immediately sat back down. She looked up at him, and he wasn't frowning at her. He wasn't cackling or laughing like he had been earlier either. He was just - observing. His eyes were quiet and watchful. She clenched her hands around her paper cup.
"You remember me?" she said, ignoring that Deimon's football team had only had one game the year before.
Hiruma's silent eyes turned mocking, and he rolled them as he leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, cause the little flower is so hard to identify. You're such a fucking mystery," he drawled.
A flush shot up Sena's face again, but she was pleased it was one of anger rather than embarrassment.
"I'm - I'm not a little flower!" she barked back. Hiruma just smiled with all his fangs.
"Sena Kobayakawa, Tokyo's little flower," he said. He swung his chair down with a clack and bent over the table, his grin only growing as he got closer to her. "Not a boy, not a girl - everyone knows who you are." He suddenly retreated. "Of course, that means no one really knows anything useful about you. It was hard digging up information on you, you know."
"Well," Sena said, keeping her hands on the cup to keep them from visibly shaking, "you should know I don't like being called a little flower."
Hiruma grinned at her, tapping his fingers against his lips. "That's not what I was talking about and you know it…brat."
The name wasn't ideal, but it was miles better than 'little flower', so Sena relaxed.
"So what's the real reason you were waiting to pounce on me?" Hiruma asked, swinging his body toward her again. He lowered himself to her eye level and placed his hand just near where hers were clamped on the cup. "Cause I'd really love to hear it."
"I wasn't waiting to pounce on you," she protested. This close, the scent of mint was filling her nose again, and she had to nip at her lip to keep from saying something stupid. "I was wanting to - um."
There went her confidence, right out the door with its tail between its legs. Hiruma's eyebrow twitched.
"Well? The hell is it?"
Sena stared at the demon. His eyes were bright green. Unnaturally green. Maybe he really was a demon. Maybe she'd made a mistake in coming to Deimon. The magic that had captivated her a year ago, that had made her legs ache, had made her chest fill up with that light airy emotion she still couldn't place, maybe it was a fluke, maybe she should have listened to Agon, maybe -
"I want to be on the football team," she blurted out as fast as she could.
'Please don't say no,' she thought, and she made sure to keep her lips sealed this time.
But Hiruma didn't say no. He didn't say anything. He just reached forward and - ruffled her hair. She was frozen as he did so, seemingly wanting to run his hands through it all. And then he chuckled, under his breath, almost as if he didn't want to.
"That wasn't so damn hard, was it?" he said. His voice with thick with mirth.
She blinked up at him. He moved his hand away as soon as her eyes fell on his. "You knew?"
"I said it was hard to find information. Not impossible." He grinned extra wide. "And I already know what position you want, so you don't have to work yourself up over asking for that either."
I really am making a deal with the devil, Sena thought as Hiruma went about the shed, searching for something among the wreckage. She stood, abandoning her tea.
"So you'll let me on the team?" she asked.
"Of fucking course," Hiruma grumbled, his back to her. "I know how good you run. Only a fucking idiot wouldn't have you on their team." He grunted happily and tugged out a jersey.
Sena smiled, glad the quarterback couldn't see her right at that moment. At least, she didn't think he could see her. When it came to Hiruma, who really knew for sure?
But her upperclassman didn't say a thing, just continued rustling about among the equipment, and Sena kept smiling as she said, "You can't let anyone know who I am."
Hiruma went horribly, frighteningly still.
Slowly, his shoulders shaking from obvious frustration, Hiruma turned back toward her, eyes glimmering threateningly. Sena felt her smile shake, but she didn't sit back down. She didn't grab her tea. She had gotten through the worst of it. Now was just the time to negotiate.
With the devil, but she'd already signed her soul away.
Hiruma strode over to her, jersey in his hand, helmet in the other. He looked at her with that same piercing stare he'd given her earlier.
And without warning shoved the helmet onto her head.
"Fucking fine," he growled out, and Sena couldn't help but smile at the thought that maybe, just maybe, she'd won against the demon.
Except no one ever won against Yoichi Hiruma.
"You'll be the team secretary, as cover," he said, and his grin was devastatingly evil and self-serving.