DEVIL'S BRIDE
Drabble set featuring the start, the end, the ups and the downs of Youichi Hiruma's attempts and success of courting (re: blackmailing) Primrose Dorea Potter into being his girlfriend.
I do not own Eyeshield 21, if I did... the games would be more interesting! There's only so many times I can see the same formula of a match before it gets old. Also, there would be more character exploration.
000
WIGGLE ROOM
Talking to the blond pest was... not so bad, she guessed.
He certainly had a... way about him. To put it kindly. Very kindly.
Sipping at the red coloured sweet drink (pomegranate green tea – served chilled), she watched him with a wary eye and half an ear as he went about explaining American Football with almost fanatical enthusiasm, using salt-shakers, napkins, condiments, his cigarettes and lighter along with their empty dishes to explain the rules and player positions. Somehow, his rambling was beginning to make sense and if she compared it to Quidditch, well, it became all the more understandable. And, dare she say it, interesting.
"And you're the Quarter-Back? The one that needs to be a fairly decent all rounder, running, catching, grappling, throwing, that sort of thing?" she asked, setting her now empty drink down with a thoughtful frown.
The blond pest nodded with a fanged grin, "Bin-goh," he drawled in his slurred Japanese accent.
Primrose hummed, but didn't react as the Waitress from earlier hurried over with a slice of chocolate cake and a caramel apple slice, setting the chocolate cake in front of her and the apple slice in front of the pest.
"Still think Ame-futoball is 'Pussy's Rugby'?" the pest taunted, leaning back in his seat with a self-satisfied smirk. Clearly quite convinced he had converted her.
She paid him no mind as she dug into her slice of cake, "Oh, absolutely," she stated airily, just to piss him off. It worked as well, much to her amusement. She was beginning to understand why the twins always found it so hilarious to needle the kiddies, it was funny to see them hiss and snarl unhappily when you confronted them with the simple facts of life. Not everyone was going to agree with you, no matter how much you argued one way or another. "I was playing a game a lot more violent since I was eleven. Sixty feet in the air, seven players, four balls, three goal hoops. It's a little like American Football. Three Chasers who handle the Quaffle, the main scoring ball, and try to get it into one of three hoops for ten points. The Keeper to intercept them and prevent the Quaffle from getting in. Two Beaters who're armed with metal plated baseball bats who smack lead cannon balls at the players to try and knock them down to the ground and also protect their team from the other team's beaters. And the Seeker, a little like a Running Back, they hunt for the smallest ball, the Snitch, it moves autonomously and turns on a dime. Catch the Snitch and the game ends, it's worth a hundred and fifty points."
The pest's eyebrows were high towards his hairline during her explanation, she smirked at him, waving her spoon.
"Injuries can range from shattered bones, joints, severe bruising, internal bleeding and severely bruised pride," she stated, rubbing her own arm in remembrance of her Second Year match against Slytherin. She closed her mouth with a startled clack, realising that she had perhaps said entirely too much about a magical game to a non-magical and cursed herself internally. She rarely spoke to muggles anymore, not since starting Hogwarts, they had done everything in their power to completely seclude her from this half of the world and she had accepted, even relished in it. The less contact she had with the Dursleys the better in her mind, she'd let herself become to relaxed and allowed her usually controlled tongue to waggle much too freely when caught in a semi-pleasant conversation. She wasn't used to censoring herself like this!
She forcefully reminded herself that she wasn't on this so called 'date' willingly and got to her feet.
"Excuse me, I need to visit the ladies," she stated politely, grabbing her bag, before making her way towards the door with the familiar logo plate on it, leaving the blond fourteen year old in her wake. Not that she knew he was fourteen. He was taller than her. If only by two or three inches.
Once in the bathroom, she did her business and washed her hands, staring at her face in the mirror. A perfunctory check for facial spots before her eyes slid to the side and up, spotting an open window in the reflection.
It was a tiny thing. But. So was she.
Stomping down the stab of guilt she felt at abandoning the blond pest with the bill, he had forced her out onto this date and she had no intention of giving him the chance to weedle a second one out of her, or follow her home, he looked like he was younger than her but that didn't mean much when she knew that Tom Riddle had murdered at fifteen and probably done a lot of pretty grim stuff beforehand as well. Plus, he had frickin' GUNS, in a country where it was illegal unless you were in the police. Even licensed private ownership was illegal. If he didn't have some kind of connection to gangs or Yakuza, she would eat the Sorting Hat.
Hoisting herself up onto the window-sill, she realised this was going to take a lot more acrobatics than she was used to. It was a tight fit but given her size and build, she had more than enough wiggle room to squeeze her way out. She gripped the edge and slithered herself through, head first so she could see where she was going, keeping her grip on the window sill and curling her legs down and through. Leaving her dangling with her back against the brick wall behind her, wedged in a tiny narrow alleyway between the tea-house and someone's apartment block. That someone staring at her from their bedroom window with wide dark eyes.
She gave them an awkward smile and dropped to the ground.
Then she ran. Cursing the fact that she'd left her Pokemon Cap behind. She quite liked that thing.
By the time the half an hour mark went past, Youichi Hiruma was blinking up at the apologetic waitress who had just informed him that the ladies bathroom was empty. That fucking Sneak Thief gave him the slip again! He paid for their meal and left the little café, pausing as he passed the alley and spotted the tiny open window and started laughing.
'Well played, fucking Cat-burgler. Well fucking played.'
000
X3 heh, finished. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. It's a little... mehish. But I wanted to get something out. Hopefully the on going state of one-up-manship between Primrose and Hiruma will continue to amuse you.