03. Words:

She felt that through every argument, every confrontation, every dispute she had with him, she might get to know him better.

"You shouldn't press him so hard, he could hurt himself!" Mamori cried, at last raising her voice in their latest argument. Frowning at her as he worked to add another weight to the running back's bar, the captain replied,

"A little weight won't kill him, damn manager. You've got to shred the muscle to build up new ones." He gave the small boy a withering look. The small boy appropriately gulped and squirmed under his gaze. "Besides, we've got to get him past 88lb if he's gonna be of any use on the field."

"He's the manager!" She pressed, "He isn't going to be lifting more than a box of videos for you!" The grunt of effort beside her turned her attention back to Sena, who was valiantly fighting to complete a third and fourth press with the heavy weights, no longer mindful of the pair quarreling above him. She watched him, then sighed, "How much should he be able to lift at his height and weight without injuring himself?"

Hiruma made no attempt to hide his smirk of triumph as he set up his own machine. "The normal bench press weight for him would be about 100-110lbs, but he could go higher if he tried." He considered his weights for a moment before reaching for another iron ring, "I could have stopped at 135lb but I've gotten up to 165lb so…"

She considered his words for a moment longer, then turned on her heel and scanned the room, "Does anyone else need help?" The quarterback's grin burned into her retreating back.

"You weren't in class last period, do you want my notes?" He looked up from his laptop to find her standing over him, her extended hand filled with neatly printed notes, freshly ripped by the look of their frayed edges. He continued to stare up at her until she waved them a bit, embarrassed, "Well? Even if you do have the entire faculty in your pocket, they'll still be sore with you if you fall behind."

He snorted and popped his gum at her, but took the pile from her, quickly leafing through them, pausing only slightly on pages with more text than others. He handed them back without looking up, returning to his work without another thought to the girl above him. She made a face,

"That's it? Scanning won't do you any good, you know. At least write some of it down before you forget." He glared at her from the corner of his eye,

" 'Two Japanese invasions of Korea and subsequent battles on the Korean peninsula took place during the years 1592-1598. Toyotomi Hideyoshi led the newly unified Japan into the first invasion (1592-1593) with the professed goal of conquering Korea, the Jurchens, Ming Dynasty China, and India. The second invasion (1594-1596) had no lofty goal of world conquest and was aimed rather solely as a retaliatory offensive against the Koreans. The invasions are also known as…' "

He intoned, returning her notes verbatim into the open air. Mamori stood speechless beside him for a moment. He glanced up at her again, tapped his forehead twice, and returned to his work.

With the utterance of that final giggle, he decided that he just couldn't stand it anymore. "Do you have to pig out like that in here, damn manager? The smell's making me sick." Hiruma groused as the Devilbat's manager lifted the final pastry from its familiar yellow box. She ignored him, taking a large bite, not minding that the filling squeezed out from either side and stuck to her face, giving her a clown-like grin when she finally came up for air.

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and sucked a thumb for a moment, before acknowledging his request. "I'm nearly finished, and you know I don't 'pig out' Hiruma-kun." She smirked into her next, daintier nibble. "Oor jus' jealous cuz' Oooh haven' foun' a favorite food yet." He pretended to be bored and continued to type, trying not to let the smell of creampuff invade too far up his nose.

"It's pure sugar. Nothing of value in one of those." He continued to type, "If you've gotta chew on something in here, make it sugar-free, will ya?"

Finally finished with her treat, Mamori stood to clean up, collapsing the box as she walked it to the trashcan. "Like you're gum I'd assume? You're almost out; if I stop by the store what flavor would you like?"

Though his face spoke volumes on his dislike of being coddled, he curtly answered, "Melon. Or Sour Apple." She made a face at his choices.

"So sour!"

He grinned at her. "I like it to bite back."