Sweetness, people actally like this story. Whop! I'm begining to think that Eyeshield 21 is just a big way to diss America, I know football players, if they were going into a World Cup thingy they would be dead serious about it. The reason America's so good at football is because we've taking it so seriously. Meh, ignore me, patriot moment that's all, it happens to us all from time to time. I think. Maybe, I dunno maybe it's just me.

EDIT: An angel by the name of ChibiBoko came down from a cloud and helped edit this chapter! Now how amazing is that?

Chapter Three: Getting Off on the Wrong Foot

The second we walked out of the principal's office, Agon's smile disappeared like the flick of a switch. His shoulders squared, his expression darkened, and his once easygoing, dentist-perfect smile had vanished. In just a couple seconds he transformed from a TV star teen heartthrob into the kind of guy that scares cops away.

For one scary moment he glared at me -possibly considering the countless ways to make me suffer multiple tragic deaths- before walking out into the hallway with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

I followed him against my better judgment (which was telling me to run for the hills) down the same busy hall that I had nearly been trampled into mush in the first time I passed through with Apollo. However, this time I couldn't just swim unnoticed through the crowd.

The second we walked down the hallway a murmur spread in every direction, and suddenly no one wanted to be in the hall anymore. Some people pushed themselves back into the classroom they had just exited despite the complaining classmates behind them. Others would just press against the wall as if any moment it would disappear and they could run for it. I could've sworn I saw one guy jump into his locker, but I was too afraid to look back to check.

So… either the principal forgot to mention that everyone in the school had some deadly fear of Japanese people, or my 'big brother' wasn't as angelic as the principal had thought and was the cause for the whole 'parting of the Red Sea' thing going on.

I was getting a strange, sneaking suspicion that it wasn't me people were afraid of.

Somehow I survived the hallway and followed Agon up the marble staircase, making sure to keep a death grip on the railing with my left hand. I had a funny feeling that if I slipped and broke my neck Agon would just leave me there to bleed.

Evidently I didn't fall nor break anything and was able to continue following Agon to wherever he was leading me. By now I was practically jogging to keep up with his long strides and wasn't expecting him to stop short, which he did. I had to put on the breaks, fast.

Wasn't fast enough though; seconds later I plowed into him at top speed, bringing a whole new meaning to the phrase 'walking into a wall of bricks.'

"Watch it fag, no touching. I only go for girls, got it?" He snapped. I nodded, still trying to blink away those weird spots in front of my eyes. That had hurt really, really badly. Ouch.

"Hai, senpai. Gomen nasai." Oops, can't seem to speak English while in pain. Who'd have thought?

"Whatever. And quit with that bowing thing, it's fucking annoying."

Huh, what bowing thing? Oh yeah, what I was doing right then. Must've been instinct, I guess.

"There's your room. Go change or I'll fucking kill you. Got it?"

--

The uniform was almost the same as what I would've worn back in Japan; a long, navy blue blazer, matching trousers, and a dark blue striped tie. The white button-up shirt was long-sleeved and breathable. The 'badge', as the principal had called it, was just a pin that had to be stuck into the shirt; it was a thin triangle that was a light green color.

Yep, me the scholarship student.

I managed to change in record time, coming out of the room lugging with me my bag full of whatever I would need throughout the day.

"Ready," I panted, slightly proud of myself. Seriously, that had to have been less than two minutes.

"About fucking time, come on midget." Agon was already halfway down the hall before he bothered to call out to me. Yes, more of that following game. Great. Why me?

"Um, yeah, coming." I once again tempted fate climbing down the smooth marble staircase going in the opposite direction than before.

"Gym's that way. You're late." Agon pointed to a pair of thick double doors at the end of the next hallway and started walking off before adding, "Oh yeah, if you can't find anyone who can put up with you, look for me in the lunch room."

Was that supposed to sound like a threat? Maybe. It wasn't like I'd be asking him to clarify that for me.

I headed toward the double doors, realizing at the last moment that perhaps I should say something to him. The silent act would only get me so far. I turned, mouth open wide, and blinked in surprise when the hall turned out to be Agon-less.

Oh well. With the way people were treating me so far, I'll probably meet another Agon-like character sooner or later to pass the message on to. I entered the gym and instantly wished that Agon might have, gee, I don't know, mentioned just how late I was? I smiled nervously as what seemed to be a thousand pairs of eyes turned to face me as the door slammed unnecessarily loudly behind me.

--

I'm not bad at all sports, just sports that involve physical strength, hand-eye coordination, or teamwork. It would seem many people who came up with sports had those three things in mind while creating their accursed games. One of those sports would just happen to be volleyball; the evil sport where you have to hit the ball once over the net without doing anything stupid so you don't face the wraith of your teammates.

They were playing volleyball.

I was barked at to change into my gym clothes by a coach whose name I instantly forgot and raced away from the curious onlookers. During my time changing, I was able to dig up the slightest hope that there would already be enough players and I would just have to sit out this time. It wasn't until I remembered my cast that hope came pouring in like little golden bubbles of joy. You can't expect someone to play volleyball while in a cast, right?

For once my positive thinking didn't backfire on me, and when the coach saw the cast on my arm he grunted but pointed to the bleachers where I would spend the remainder of the period. Skipping over, I noticed someone sitting up in the far left corner typing away on a laptop.

Carefully climbing up, I sat a few steps down from him; close enough that if either of us wanted to strike up a conversation we could, but far enough so that if he was anti-social I wouldn't break any sacred rules.

I nervously scanned over the rest of the gym, awed by its size. On two sides were bleachers, the one on the right was pushed and stacked up while this side was down. Above were the basketball hoops and down below were the unfortunate souls who were stuck playing volleyball.

My stomach did a flip as I made eye contact with a tall pale boy with dark eyes and blond hair right in front of me. Since so far my luck with meeting people hadn't gone so well I waved hesitantly, feeling rather foolish, nervous, and apprehensive all at once.

To my luck and surprise he smiled back and raised a hand, and a smile spread across my face. Of course the next second it disappeared as the volleyball sped in his direction. Luckily he moved just at the last second and the balls bounced where he had been. Unluckily the ball slammed into the ground hard enough to launch it in a new direction, er, my direction.

I squeezed my eyes shut and prepared for the sting of rubber against face (one I've come to be accustomed to during gym), but apprehensively opened them when nothing happened. I was halfway sure that the ball was just hovering in front me waiting to catch me off guard before slamming into me at full speed.

Instead I saw a long pale hand. After blinking for a moment and remembering how to use common sense, I realized the hand was holding the volleyball. Looking up timidly, I met the strangest pair of eyes I'd ever seen. The irises were bluish-green except for a thin ring of dark swimming bronze around the pupil, making his eyes look wider than natural.

"Um, thank you?" I croaked out. I awoke from my frozen state, forcing my eyes away from his while edging away. A glance at the laptop he held confirmed that he was in fact the boy who had sat in the stands above me minutes before. He casually tossed the ball back down to the other pale boy and gave me a bored glance.

"You fucking stink." He stated bluntly. Everyone below turned away, no longer paying attention to the stands. Confused, a random thought ran across my mind. He wasn't wearing a uniform. Hmm, weird after I just listened to an hour speak on how important it is to wear the uniform. He was dressed up in a black shirt, black pants, black shoes, and I was so betting on black socks too. I inadvertently blinked, and when I opened my eyes he was gone from my line of vision.

I whipped around, finding him already back to typing on his laptop in his former seat and not paying me the slightest attention. My brain was still too clogged up with trying to understand why I wasn't suffering from ball contact to question how he got there so fast.

"Um," I began tactful as ever.

"I'll give you a moment to try thinking again. Stupid people are fucking annoying." He snapped, not looking up. He talked quickly like someone who was jittery and caffeine-wired, but his posture was the exact opposite. He stood straight and didn't shift around at all.

Brain still stuck, I tried to take his advice on the whole thinking thing. Okay Sena, you can do this. I think.

First: a falling object came flying my way.

Okay, that was simple. Stuff like that happens a lot to a guy like me.

Second: rude guy catches ball, which equals lack of pain. Yay.

Third: he thinks I… smell?

"Wait, what was that? I smell?" I stumbled out. Sure, it hadn't been that long since I'd been stuffed into a plane with a bunch of strangers (who all knew me by face), but I didn't think it would make me smell that bad.

"Congratulations, that didn't take nearly as fucking long as expected; three whole seconds early. And yeah, you reek twerp; like wet dog and people."

It took me a minute to catch up with his jittery speaking. After a few seconds he looked up at me expectantly. While he was talking I had moved up a few seats trying to hear him over the background volleyball grunting and other manly gym noises. Unsure if what he said was a statement or just an insult, I replied with the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm Sena."

He turned back to his laptop and snorted. "Well, duh. What the hell do you think, we live under a rock out here? The kid who saved the President: age 15, birthday December 21, height 155 cm (5 foot 3 inches), 38 kg (83.6 pounds), parents Shuma and Mihae, born in Tottori, Japan."

"H-how do you know all that?" I asked shakily after a moment of awe, both amazed and creeped out.

"Not much else to do around here." He replied in a breezy tone like it was no big deal, not even glancing up as I stared dumbfounded with my mouth hanging open.

I remembered to close it, swallowing before replying. "Um, I didn't catch your name."

"I didn't give it." He retorted, his strange eyes angry causing me to nervously hunch down. Whoa, feel the hate. He stood up stiffly and jammed the laptop into a black (go figure) bag and tromped out of unnoticed by the teacher.

--

The thought that I would have to go to gym class every day -not counting weekends- wasn't really a pleasant one. I had already missed my first period History class and only had to sit befuddled in gym for twenty-five minutes.

Checking through my papers I sighed in relief, only one more class until lunch, joy. I headed out of the gymnasium with a heavy heart, imagining all the suffering I would go through once my cast was off.

I stopped short when I finally realized that I didn't know where to go.

"Hey, wait up!"

Startled, I turned to find the tall pale blond -not the rude one with the laptop- standing in front of me. I craned my head up as far as I could; he was really tall, more than I had thought earlier.

"Hi, I'm Sakuraba. We have gym class together." He introduced himself with a nervous but kind smile.

"Sakuraba? That's a Japanese name!" I gasped, feeling hopeful that he might actually speak Japanese too.

"Oh, yeah, my parents were kind of out there." He shrugged and I tried to keep the disappointment off my face with a smile. Looking around, I noticed that people were beginning to turn and watch us curiously. Whatever I was going to say caught in my throat.

"Um, do you need help getting to class or, um, anything?" Sakuraba asked nervously as the silent stretched out. I perked up quickly.

"Oh, um, thanks. My 'big brother' was supposed to come, I think, but I'm not quite sure that he's-"

"Here." Agon finished for me, not paying attention as I nearly jumped out of my skin in shock as a chill ran down my back. Who wouldn't be freaked out if Agon materialized seemingly out of thin air, arms crossed and razor-sharp death glare in place.

"Die already." He growled at Sakuraba who scowled back, but seemed a little antsy as Agon focussed his glare directly on him.

"Um, see you around." He muttered to me, giving a half-hearted wave before drifting away into the crowd. I turned to Agon, lips pressed together tight. Gee, thanks big brother; he probably scared away the only possible friend I'd ever make in this whole school.

He didn't seem to notice my displeasure or even care about it. Nor did he try to explain why he'd been rude; instead he just walked away. I followed after him, this time keeping my distance while at the same time ignoring the curious student body around us.

--

Lunch was what I feared.

One of the things Mihae warned me about was the cafeteria; students couldn't eat in homeroom like normal people would. Oh no, instead they stuffed all the kids into a large room with circle tables and expected everyone to be fine with that.

I stood there scanning the tables, searching for an empty one before I remembered Agon's request/threat and caught a glance of dreadlocks heading in one direction. My stomach dropped once I noticed who he was sitting with.

Surrounding one table were seven tall, muscular guys who all looked like they could snap me in half, never mind that I'd rather sit alone then risk sitting there-

"What the hell shrimp trash, are you just going to stand there? Get your ass over here!"