A/N: Since Amberfox and Lyell (whichever one of them left the comment) was kind enough to leave a nice, long review, then...well, you'll see. Thank you, though :) I took your concerns into account in this next chapter.
--
That night, Mamori peered closely at Hiruma as they ate their dinner. Swallowing a mouthful of rice and fish, she asked tentatively, "Er, Hiruma-kun, we have to talk..."
Shit, the fucking manager's going to start complaining now isn't she... Hiruma groaned inwardly to himself.
"Well, we really shouldn't miss a whole week of school, you know, and I should get back home tomorrow. Won't everyone be wondering what happened to us? It's not possible for the two of us to just disappear..."
"What, you mean because I'm the football captain and you're from the Disciplinary Committee? Stop worrying, I took care of everything before we left."
--
At the Anezaki household, one day prior to events...
Anezaki-san opened the mailbox to find a small envelope. She found a letter in Mamori's writing...
Okaa-san:
I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but I had to leave in a rush. Hiruma-kun had arranged for the football team to have extra practice out in the countryside, and whisked us away without any prior notice. I barely had time to write this note and grab a few essentials, but I couldn't leave poor Sena in his clutches, could I? I won't be gone too long.
Love,
Mamori
Anezaki-san finished reading the letter and sighed, but from what she had heard from her daughter previously, such a description seemed to fit Hiruma very well. Her daughter had never misbehaved before, so she must have been in a hurry to not have even called.
--
"You FORGED my handwriting? How? When? Why did you do that? Why couldn't I just have called, or just gone back home?" Mamori sent a flurry of questions at Hiruma, faster than shuriken.
"It was just easier this way, alright? You'd think I killed her children or something...or maybe the fucking chibi..." growled Hiruma.
"You know what, forget it, I'm going home. Maybe this was all just a big mistake," Mamori snapped. The tensions that she had subconsciously suppressed during the two days at the old Hiruma house were starting to bubble up. Luckily, I'm on the pill to regulate my period, she thought in relief, but how can we explain such a conspicuous absence?
Rising, she went and packed her belongings quickly, and walked out of the house.
He didn't move to stop her. As she slammed the front door, she realized that she didn't even hear him move since the moment she had left the dinner table.
He was still sitting there, chopsticks in hand. As soon as he heard the door slam, he moved swiftly. Running out through the back door, he took a detour that would carry him to the train station in a fraction of the time that it would take going down the main road.
--
"Fucking manager, where the hell do you think you're going?" Hiruma's inquiry was laced with profanities, but the tone of his voice made it sound like he had asked, "How's the weather today?"
She whirled, and from the rapid reddening of her face and the shape of her mouth, he could tell that she was getting ready to start yelling at him. Before she could start ranting, he said quietly, "You know, the next train doesn't arrive for another five days. After all, this isn't exactly a busy area."
With those last couple of sentences, he managed to add even more fuel to the fire.
She glared at him, and if looks could kill then Hiruma would probably already have been digging his own grave already. "Do you mean to tell me that there's absolutely no way out of his place for another five days?"
He shrugged, "I didn't think you'd want to leave so early, so I told the conductor to not bother coming back until then."
She gave a savage sound of frustration, and then began to reach into her bag. He came closer, wondering in amusement what she could be bringing out. He wasn't prepared to be whacked in the face with a broom.
"Fucking manager--ouch--how the hell did that broom fit in there, and why are you--jesus, stop it--hitting me?" he protested, holding up his arms in an attempt to fend off her swings. As she pulled the broom over her head to do an overhand swing, a flash of metal and a wave of searing heat stopped her. She froze, and then dropped the now-flaming broom. Hiruma held his flamethrower with a look of desperation, but once he realized that she had dropped it, he put it down slowly.
"Hiruma-kun..." Mamori began to weep, "What are we going to do?" The pent-up emotions finally broke out as she sobbed uncontrollably.
Hiruma groaned. Even the commander from hell didn't like to see girls cry, least of all HIS manager. He whipped out a cellphone and pressed a few buttons before putting the device to his ear and pursing his lips in impatience. "Listen, I need a helicopter here in fifteen minutes. I'm sending my location right now through email--" he whipped out a laptop "--and if you're not here by then, then I'm sure the local police would love to know who was supplying--oh, you'll cooperate now? Excellent." He hung up, and after typing a bit more, he slammed the laptop shut. "Oy, stop crying." His rather awkward attempts at stemming the flow of her tears and patting her back only served to make the situation worse.
"Don't YOU try and comfort me, you...you...butthead..." Mamori sniffled, and then realized that she had just sounded like a five year old. She let out a watery chuckle, and then proceeded to pummel him weakly. "You really suck, Hiruma-kun...but I guess I have to forgive you."
He snorted, and then began to twirl his AK-47 (when did he even draw that?) "like a pencil," as Musashi had once described it. "Urgh, Mamori, is there any way you'll be able to say that without looking like you're at a funeral?"
"You could take me out on a real date, for once. In the city. With people around and everything. Maybe to an amusement park! Or the movies...and you have to bring me flowers, too. Try and woo me the conventional way." She began to smile a little as her descriptions became more animated. Suddenly, she stopped. "Wait...did you just call me Mamori?"
"Fucking manager, what are you talking about?" The twirling of his firearm became a little more frenzied. He looked up and said in relief, "Look, the helicopter's here, we're heading back."
Freaking old man, you win this time. I'll do things the "normal way" for a little while.
--
The next morning...
"YAAA-HAAAA!! YOU SHITTY BASTARDS, TIME FOR PRACTICE!!"
The football team leaped to their feet in surprise--they had managed to convince Musashi to put his shotgun aside, and everyone was resting in the midafternoon heat. They were shocked to see him jump from the sky, and even more surprised to see Mamori climb down at a slower pace from a ladder from a helicopter.
"MAMORI-SAAAN! WE WERE SO WORRIED ABOUT YOU!" bawled Monta, leaping forward to help her down. Suddenly, a wave of bullets rained around him, and Hiruma began barking out orders.
"Everyone into the weightroom, I want to see how much stronger you've gotten since I've been gone!" he grinned sadistically. He turned to Mamori, "Get the clipboard and record their numbers."
In the weightroom, everyone was huffing and straining to try and lift the kilos those last strenuous inches, while attempting to avoid getting hernias as well. While the numbers hadn't exactly changed significantly in the few days that Hiruma had been absent, he was still gleefully punishing those who hadn't been able to lift more than their previous records. In other words, everyone.
Once Mamori had recorded all the numbers and everyone sat around waiting for Hiruma's verdict, he turned and grinned. Although it didn't hold any of the usual malice, the team shuddered. It was a little too kind for their liking.
"Kekeke, alright everyone, listen up. Quite frankly your numbers were adequate. You could even say that they were satisfactory. However, as much as I'd love to punish you all for slacking off the moment my back was turned," a collective shudder ran through the group of football junkies, "I'll be gone this afternoon on a date."
The silence was so thick that if a proverbial needle were to fall, it would be suspended in thin air on the tension (did anyone understand that? It's worded a bit awkwardly, I know). Suddenly, questions began raining on the increasingly-irate captain. Musashi and Kurita bore faces of disbelief even more exaggerated then when Mamori thought that Hiruma had wanted to decorate the clubhouse with flowers before the Hakushuu game.
"Yaa, You-nii, who's the lucky girl?" pestered Suzuna, circling around Hiruma like a gossip shark going after its prey.
"Lucky?" whispered Juumonji to his "brothers." "More like unlucky as hell..." This was followed by a barrage of bullets.
"This pretty much throws all my calculations on..." muttered Yukimitsu, who was visibly disturbed.
"Eh, Hiruma-san, who is it?" piped Sena and Monta. Monta looked a little hopeful. Certainly, he thought, if someone like Hiruma could get a girlfriend, then he had a chance with his lovely Mamori-san. If only he knew how very wrong he was.
Hiruma looked around at the eager and slightly apprehensive faces, and his smile expanded into a positively terrifying grin. He sauntered over the the blushing Mamori and wrapped an arm around her waist. "I'm going with MY fucking manager." His other arm swooped down below her knees and he lifted her, bridal style, before proceeding out the door.
