Beating the Odds

By Uniasus

Chapter 4


The day seemed hotter than when the Devilbats played the Sphinx, if that was possible. Sena's shirt was heavy on his upper body, weighted with humidity and the sweat from the hot car ride. His legs were even worse, covered as they were in a pair of light weight track pants. At least he wore the white pair.

He was the only one at Shuuei not wearing shorts, but he was willing to bear their burden in the weather. It hurt to look at his legs. They were just fleshy sticks, lacking in muscle and strength, with a scar on his right knee. They mocked him. But here, all the other wheelchair athletes seemed to show off their legs. If they had them. Sena didn't realize how lucky he was till now. Being able to use both arms and his torso meant he was one of the most functional athletes, a T-54 and a F-55 for track and field classifications. There were others who couldn't properly use any of their limbs.

But it was heartening, they were still here. They weren't willing to give up. The thought made him smile. Really, he should have made an effort meet some of them before hand.

Sena's parents had to work, so they weren't able to get him to the medical center in time for registration. So his teammates took him. It had been cramped in the back with Kurita, Riku, Ishimaru, and Monta. Unsui drove, Agon in the passenger seat because he had nothing better to do that day.

"Anyone see the registration tent?" Sena asked, looking around. The field was reminiscent of a school fair, lots of tents with colorful flags streaming. There were tables set up at a variety of location around the field, most likely for events to occur later that day.

"No," Unsui answered, looking down the single row of tents with his hand over his eyes to block the sun.

"Well, let's max search!" Monta declared, fist pumping into the air.

Agon made a throaty noise and then spat to the side. Unsui gave him a look, but his twin didn't give any attention to it.

"Alright, lets go!" Kurita took off in 'search mode', moving from tent to tent, Monta behind him rolling between people's legs and wheels. Sena laughed. "So energetic!" He gave his wheels a push, heading towards the tents. Riku took up a position on his right and joined him, the Kongo brothers trailing, all moving at a more sedate pace.

"This is bigger than I expected," Sena commented.

"Really?" Riku asked.

"Yeah, I figured this would be something for fun that Shuuie put on, maybe twenty athletes, but did you see the window stickers on some of the cars in the parking lot? People came from hours away! And there's so many here! And there's still two hours before anything starts!"

"Hmm, now that we're closer it seems like a lot of the texts are exhibitions too."

Sena paused in shock, turned to look at Ishimaru on his left, and then gave another push on his wheels. "Sorry," Sena said, "I forgot about you again Ishimaru." He gave the amefuto player a sheepish smile.

Ishimaru wilted. "Don't worry, I'm used to now."

"Still, exhibition tents?" But now that they were closer, Sena could see for himself. Many of the tents were displaying sporting gear, everything from clothes to different models of wheelchairs. "I had no idea there was specialized equipment for people in wheelchairs. I mean, look at this stuff!"

"You don't have anything?" Riku asked.

"No, not really," Sena said, looking towards a tent showcasing a table of gloves. "I mean, nothing that I didn't have already from amefuto. Don't know how much I would need anything like this stuff anyway."

"Well, you ran better with spikes than in sneakers right?"

"True, but I don't think they sell wheelchairs with spiked wheels," Sena ignored Agon's noise of contemplation, "besides, I'm racing on a track, not grass."

"Looks like there are wheelchairs made for racing though," Unsui gestured towards a tent on the left. There were three wheelchairs on display, all with the outlines of an obtuse triangle as opposed to the square one Sena was using.

"Huh," Sena kept his eyes on the tent while they past it. The idea of a specialized wheelchair for racing was certainly intriguing; he'd like to check out the tent if he had the time.

"Hey Sena!" Monta appeared out of the crowd in front of him. "Kurita-san and I found the registration tent. I'll take you there."

Kurita had already started filling out his paperwork for him. "What events are you doing?"

"The 60 meter sprint, and discus."

"What's discus?" Riku asked.

"It's this one kilogram disk that you throw, and the one who throws it the farthest wins. You'd be amazing at it Kurita-san."

"Do any of the events involve catching?" Monta asked.

Sena shook his head with a smile, "Nope, sorry Monta."

"Max lame."

After registering, Sena spent the extra time before the events started hanging with his friends and exploring the expo. He had told Hiruma when the entire event was being held and then left it to the blonde to tell everyone else, but hadn't quite expected everyone who showed up to do so. Hiruma came, of course, as had Mamori, Juumonji, Akaba and Yamato from Saikyoudai. Yukimitsu and Takami were around somewhere, as Shuuei students they were working at the event. Musahsi would come later, most likely just in time to see his race. And from Oujou, Shin and Sakuraba had come to watch.

As strange as it may seem, Sena wanted to do well for Shin as well as himself. He had told Shin about wanting to train for today, and so the line backer had helped him devise a training schedule. If it wasn't for the older student, Sena wouldn't feel nearly as confident as he did and he wanted to thank Shin for all his helping. Doing well seemed to be a good way to do that.

He waved them all good bye as they headed towards the bleachers and he made his way to the flat expanse of asphalt on the other side of the track. All the athletes were grouped together by their classifications, some small and some large.

Classification were all based on the physical limits an athlete had. There were eight classifications for field events and four for track events. You only competed against other in your classification to ensure you competed against others of your level. It wasn't fair for someone with limited shoulder function to compete against someone who had full control of his entire arm. Sena could see the point in it, but personally he wouldn't mind competing against someone with better skills. That's how you improved, even if you never had a chance of winning. That's how you had fun. But in this case, Sena was at the top, one of the most physically capable athletes of the 120 who showed up.

All the field events were going to go first, going through the classifications. There was only three: shot-put, discus, and javelin, with the weight of the equipment varied depending on athlete classifications. There were a lot more track events, ranging from the ultra short sprint of 60m to the 1500m, and while at larger events Sena got the idea things were divided by gender, they weren't here. The event really was focused more on fun and activity than competition. But that was alright, Sena didn't mind. He was going to win anyway.


"Why are they in little huddles?" Monta raised a hand above his eyes to block the sun as he looked down towards the field. "And what do all those numbers mean?"

Mamori looked up from her pamphlet to see what the receiver was referring too. Spectators had been shuffled to the stands and the participates were gathering in groups around tall white signs. "They're athlete categories, depending on how much control they have over their body."

A pointy chin landed on her shoulder as Hiruma looked at the sheet in her hand. All of a sudden, there were more hands on her back and jostling heads as everyone also tried to get a look. "Geez, did none of you grab one?" Mamori reached down into the bag at her feet and pulled out several other copies to pass around. Hiruma didn't take one and just kept reading over her shoulder.

"So, what's the Shrimp?"

"F-55 for the field events and T-54 for track."

Everyone around her looked for it in their pamphlets.

"I didn't realize how lucky he was," Juumonji said, looking at the other classifications.

"He was probably running too fast to let the guy get a better shot." Agon rubbed his side from where his brother elbowed him.

"I thought Sena would have more people to race against," Riku said, looking towards the brunette. There was only fifteen people in his category, another one looked to have twice that amount of competitors.

"It doesn't matter, they would have all lost anyway."

No one said anything to contradict Yamato, they were all confident that Sena would win. Or at least give it his all. Mamori couldn't help but feel more practical. This was Sena's first time. But he had won his first football game. But not against a good opponent. Were any of his opponents good? Most of them were in a different type of wheelchair. Nervously she nibbled on her bottom lip.

"Relax, manager. Sena'll do fine. And if he doesn't win, at least he tried. But I can tell he wants to do this, more than coming up with plays, and I'm just glad that he can look like that again."

"Like what?"

"Like he's on the field," Unsui inserted himself into the conversation. Mamori turned around to look at him and Hiruma had to catch himself from falling forward as she pulled his support away. Unsui didn't look at her, he kept his eyes on the track and presumably Sena.

"They won't know what hit him," Shin said. "Skill is only half of what makes Sena dangerous. His spirit is just as strong."

"Sorry," Mamori smiled. "I guess even after all this time, I can't help be worry about him."


The disk felt surprisingly light in his hand. One kilogram really wasn't much. The set Shin had given him went up to eight and during practice with the team he could bench press twenty five. It was a far cry from his previous record, but he was getting better and that was good enough for him. But it all meant that Sena got the feeling that discus was going to be really easy.

He had signed up to do it as a whim. Athletes could enter three events and he hadn't wanted to do another track one because it might wear him out before the sprint. Nor did he want to over tax his arms with a field event, so he choose the one with the lightest thing to throw.

But really, so light!

Sena smiled, moving the disk in his hands while he waited his turn. The record to beat so far was by a girl named Ayasha Hime. She threw it sixteen and a half yards.

"Good luck!" he wished the boy in front of him, an older blonde named Hikaru Yao that Sena had befriend in the short time since the event started. Hikaru gave him a grin and pushed himself forward for his turn. He gave an impressive throw, a few centimeters past Ayasha.

And then it was his turn. Sena stopped playing with the discus and laid it to rest so he could push himself forward and roll his wheelchair into the correct spot. Feet facing the stands, his body perpendicular to the grassy range he'd be throwing the weight down, he took a deep breath. There were butterflies in his stomach now, familiar creatures that reminded him of all the times he had stepped onto an amefuto field. But there seemed to be less of them now because as he grabbed the discus, hung it from his hand over the side of the wheelchair, and then twisted his body to swing it up and release it, he knew he had nothing to fear and little to be nervous about. It was his win, and he knew it from the minute the disk left his hand. Twenty yards. A solid win.

Sena gave a thumbs-up in the direction of his friends in the stands and then went back to his group to watch the other classifications compete. Hikaru lightly punched his shoulder when Sena rejoined the group.

"Man, Kobayakawa –kun, where'd you learn to throw like that?"

Sena shrugged. "I just threw it. But the disk felt so light! I have a friend who's been helping me strengthen my arms, so it's thanks to that person that I could throw as far as I did."

"Sounds like a good friend."

"Mmm, he is."


When it came time for the 60 meter race, Sena felt the butterflies come back stronger than ever. It was similar to his first amefuto game in that he felt like an amateur and completely out of place. It didn't help that of the five competitors he was the only one without a sport wheelchair. They also all had gloves while he was left with his callused hands. But unlike his first game, he wanted to be here.

He ignored the looks he was getting from the other guys on either side of him and focused on the finish line. It was so close; his first push would mean everything. Sena crossed his left arm in front of his chest and his right came up to pull it closer to his body to enhance the stretch. He counted to twenty, and then repeated the same thing for his other arm.

One of the track volunteers made his way to the group and Sena smiled to see it was Takami. The quarterback gave a brief nod his way and then stopped in front of the five racers to give finial instructions.

"Right, you guys can line up once I'm done talking to you. You'll hear one short whistle and that's your cue to get ready to push," Takami help up a small metal whistle that hung on a cord around his neck. "Two seconds later, I'll blow it again and that's your cue to start."

They all nodded, and the brief happiness he felt at seeing his friend melted into seriousness. This is was it.

Takami left and they all lined up at the starting line. Sena couldn't help but look at the biceps of the guys on either side of him. The one on the left was older, easily 30, and had arms bigger than Shin. Sena gulped, but then forced himself to look ahead. His opponents didn't matter, not like they did in amefuto. They weren't going to block or tackle him. They were just going to stay in their own lanes. What did matter was that invisible laser line 60 meters ahead whose breaking would determine the winner.

Takami blew the whistle and Sena placed his hands on his wheels just before eleven o'clock on his wheels. He barely noted the flurry of movement from the other racers doing the same. There was just enough time to take a deep breath and then the whistle sounded for a second time.

Sena pushed, leaning forward to extend his arms past three o'clock on his wheel before pulling them back to where they started to give another push. He focused on a point just beyond where he knew the laser crossed the track, just past the finish line, in a way to encourage his body to give all it had the entire time. Just that spot mattered, and he wondered if this was how Musashi saw the field when he kicked. All his concentration was on the pumping of his arms and that spot.

And then it was over and all five racers where in a small huddle, panting hard and sending tired smiles at each other. Sena glanced towards the score board and found himself surprised to see his name in second place. He had wanted to win, had aimed for it, but in all honesty hadn't really figured he would. He didn't know about his opponents, and it had taken time to get to the top position he held as Eyeshield. The object really was just to do his best, though it would have been nice to win.

12 seconds. He did 60 meters in 12 seconds. The winner did it in 11.82. Sena grimaced. So close!

"Hey, don't look like that."

Sena turned to look at the older man, the one with the biceps who was in the lane next to him. "You beat everyone else by over a second, and you're the first to get close to me, even with a regular wheelchair. Plus, it's a pretty good time. The world record for this event in our class in ten point eight two seconds."

"I thought the record was six point nine seconds."

"That's for the 55 meters, and a different classification. The guy who did that wasn't in a wheelchair."

"Oh…"

The other guy laughed. "What'd you do, look at records for the Paralympics or something?"

"Hehe, yeah actually."

"What's your name kid?"

"Kobayakawa Sena."

"Ito Daisuke," He held out his hand and Sena shook it. "Are you doing any other events?"

"No."

"Pity, I wanted to verse you again."

"I'll be here next year."

"You better, otherwise I'll hunt you down."


"Sena!" Mamori called, waving her hand in the air after the meet was done and the athletes and spectators were allowed to mingle again. "Sena!" She watched the brunette look around the crowd and then suddenly Juumonji was beside him and the two of them made their way over. They were all standing in a group off to the side in front of the few exhibition tents that were left.

"I thought you were going win," Hiruma stated after popping a bubble.

"Heh heh, I'll win next year. I did get first place in the discus." Sena turned towards Shin and gave a small half bow. "Thank you again for the weights and training schedule Shin-san."

"You're welcome, Sena-kun."

Mamori smiled at him. She was so proud of him, sitting here with a true smile on his face, nothing like the painful one Sena wore when he first got back to Japan.

"So, who wants ice cream?"

Hiruma snapped his attention to Musashi. "You paying old man?"

"Why not?"

"Yes!" Monta and Kurita shared a high five.

Mamori watched Sena and Juumonji share a look and hid a giggle behind her hand. Sakuraba eyed her curiously and she turned it into a soft throat clearing cough. "Let's race. Musashi pays for ice cream and everything else is paid for by the last person there."

"No fair!" she heard Sena call from behind her as everyone broke rank and ran back towards the parking lot. "I can't dodge between people any more!"

Oops, she hadn't thought of that. Oh well, Unsui could drive really fast.


Sena sighed as his friends slipped out of sight, and then turned to look at Enma's amefuto captain. "Aren't you worried about being the last one?"

"Not really. Here," Unsui held out a small bag towards Sena. "I noticed you didn't have any."

"Nani?" Sena muttered as he took the bag and peak inside. It was a pair of racing gloves. Eagerly, he pulled them out. They were ash gray with a neon green V on the back of the hand, the padding on the palm a rich black.

"Wow! Thanks Unsui-san!"

"I know you don't want help training for this stuff, but I wanted to support you some how."

"You did enough coming to see me."

"I wanted to do something more. Is this okay?"

"Yeah."

There were screams from up ahead as a van came down the path, forcing people to jump out of the way. Not any van, but the one they came in. It stopped in front of the two of them and the side door was thrown open, Kurita, Riku, and Monta behind it.

"Get your asses in here, fucking trash!" Agon yelled from the driver's seat

"Hie!" Sena exclaimed as Unsui gave him a push towards the van and his teammates pulled him in, wheelchair and all. The side door slammed shut at the same time as Unsui shut the passenger side door. Agon pressed on the throttle and pulled on the wheel, causing the van to rise up on two wheels as it turned. Sena found himself thrown out of his wheelchair and half on Riku.

"Watch it!" the blonde snapped to Agon, who ignored him.

"Ano? Where's Ishimaru-kun?" Sena asked, gripping on to Riku as Agon made another hasty turn and screams from the event attendee's filtered through the van to his ears.

"I'm here! Thanks for remembering me Sena-kun," Ishimaru waved his hand from behind the back row of seats. For some reason he was riding in the trunk.

Agon went over a bump and Monta caught Sena's wheelchair before it crushed him against the side. "Slow down max!" he shouted. "The middle doesn't have seats, remember?" Sena's parents had removed the captain seats to make room for the wheelchair hold and ramp in the van, leaving only the front seats and the back row untouched. Kurita was talking up the entire back row by himself.

"No way that fucking quarterback is getting there first!" Agon snarled.

There was another sharp turn. Riku wrapped his arms around Sena as they went sliding into the side of the van again, Monta holding the wheelchair back from hitting them. Sena winced. He'd have bruises later.

"Kurita, take Sena. Keep him between your legs." Riku pushed him over and Kurita gently plopped him on the ground between the linebacker's legs. Sena's eyes were on the level of Kurita's knees.

Sena wanted to say he didn't need the protecting, but as Agon jerked the wheel again he was glad to hit flesh and not hard plastic. Monta and Riku had stood up in a crouch, balancing themselves with hands on the van's side.

"C'mon," Riku told Monta, "Let's tie down the wheelchair so we don't have to worry about it hitting us."

They arrived at the ice cream parlor whole, though Sena managed to get a couple more bruises. Agon had slammed the breaks on and then quickly made a hard right. Sena had slid from between Kurita's legs and then been thrown sideways to crash into Monta's. It might have been okay if they ended up beating Hiruma there, but they hadn't. But at least none of them got stuck with the bill.


A/N: It must me said that I have no idea how wheelchair events actual happen. Everything I know came from a youtube video (www (dot) youtube (dot) com/watch?v=M_o1FDU3W5c) and two PDFs (http:/assets (dot) usoc (dot) org/assets/documents/attached_file/filename/22887/2010_WHEELCHAIR_INFORMATION (dot) pdf and http:/assets (dot) usoc (dot) org/assets/documents/attached_file/filename/22619/INDOOR_Records-Men (dot) pdf). While these resources were really helpful, most of this really is how I just imagine things. I have no idea what the structure and proceedings of such an event are.

I had had a scene in mind where everyone played wheelchair football, but I decided that the story didn't really need more than one sport scene. The drama is what you're all looking forward too, right? ^_~ So, maybe it'll show up in an omake, maybe not, but you know that we'll see relationships form in the next chapter. And remember, they'll be angsty relationships. Cuz I don't think I've ever written a happy one. Sorry Sena, sorry Mamori, you're gonna suffer so.