Legs of fear

by Silvyavan

After a freak accident during middle school leaves one Kobayakawa Sena traumatized but somehow alive. Now in a compromising position concerning his life, Sena isn't sure if he should live in fear of slipping up or put his life in someone else's hands. Then Mamori reminds him of highschool and suddenly death by demon contract doesn't sound so bad.

8. Dressed in Red, Dressed for Dread

A/N: for all those wondering why the fuck i haven't been updating, behold - a damn near 20k chapter with one of my favorite scenes taking up almost half of it.

In which things get better, then worse and Sena has an omen sent to him.

---

Anyone who knows Raimon Taro is aware of how passionate he is about baseball. Ever since he was a child, he had strived to become someone capable of saving the whole game just by catching the ball.

He practiced, he trained and he even joined the baseball club of Deimon High when he enrolled. To him, the whole world revolved around the small white ball with red stitches on it.

So anyone who knows him knows that when he's referring to someone to pass something, he obviously means something related to baseball.

Not everyone, however, knows who Raimon Taro is.

Which lead Taro to the current predicament of a guy in the same year as him yelling about traffic safety while he yelled at him for throwing the ball incorrectly.

Let Taro rewind a little. About 5 minutes max.

Raimon was practicing his ball catching when one of the balls flew over the fence. Raimon had immediately ran out to retrieve it and spotted it lying next to someone with the same school uniform with what looked like a rugby ball.

"Hey! Pass me the ball!" He yelled, running out of the entrance and into the courtyard. He waved his free hand, getting the guy's attention. "Throw it here!"

Now, Raimon thought that it was obvious that he was talking about the baseball and not the ball the first year was holding. His uniform and basket was clear proof.

He was wrong, because not only did the first year throw the wrong ball but he also threw it incorrectly and ended up throwing it in the street, much to both of their horror.

Raimon was ticked off at this point, jumping in the air to catch the rugby ball. He had used the barrister to jump higher and above the oncoming truck. When he landed, he got a good look at the first year that threw the incorrect ball.

He was frozen, watching him with wide red eyes and hands clenched so tight his knuckles were white. Raimon noticed that his eyes looked really, really glassy. Like they were seeing something that wasn't quite there.

"I MEANT THE BASEBALL!" Raimon yelled and huffed, snapping the first year out of his trance. "Can't you tell by my uniform?! I'm talking about the baseball behind you! I've been a ball boy forever, you know! But does that make me less of a member of the baseball club? You fool!"

The first year looked at the ball behind him, then back at Raimon and then at the ball again. Wasn't he listening?! Raimon was getting even more wound up. He groaned.

"Now I'm really pissed off! I'm used to being called clumsy," he said as he walked over to the first year, "but you're somehow worse! You got two different sports mixed up! Don't confuse baseball with rugby!"

There was a moment of silence as Raimon watched the entire situation get processed by the first year before he all but exploded.

"What the god damned hell are you doing!?" The classmate yelled as his hands shook and waved around in panicked gestures, as if Raimon wasn't the one who was supposed to be asking that question. "Why the god damned hell would you jump above a speeding truck?! What if you'd gotten hit?! And all over a stupid ball!"

Raimon balked at the first year, maximally confused.

"What if you'd gotten hurt?! Or messed up the jump?! You could've gotten killed! A ball isn't worth your entire life, much less a ball of a sport you don't even belong to!" The classmate yelled, shaking Raimon hysterically. He himself was shaking, red and brown eyes partially glazed over and sweating. Raimon noted how hot his hands were, almost like the tea his mom would make when it got chilly. "Don't throw your life away like that!"

Ah, Raimon realised, this guy was worried he'd nearly thrown himself into oncoming traffic for a ball.

The classmate stopped his intense monologue with a wheeze and heavy breathing. Taking a deep breath, the spiky haired first year closed his eyes and tried to calm down.

"I know how to walk in the street! I'm talking about you throwing the wrong ball! And to begin with, isn't this thing club property? Why'd you swipe it anyway?" Raimon asked as he gestured to the rugby ball. At least he thought it was. Not to mention that was the real question - why'd this guy have school property outside of school. It's then he realised he was holding Raimon in a vice grip and let him go, apologising for handling him so roughly.

"I'm really- really sorry, it's just, uh, please be careful when you're trying to catch something." The first year said, nervously scratching his head. "You see, I wanted to get used to handling a ball so I thought I'd borrow it and practice with it."

"What?!" Raimon balked. The guy froze up, raised his hands towards his face and seemingly braced for impact. It only made Raimon more confused.

Oh. Oh! Realisation struck Raimon. This guy wants like Raimon, who's been in sports clubs for years. He was new to ball sports and wanted to try it out! He was a rookie and he thought that a rookie mistake nearly got him run over! He was nervous and worried that a desire to try out sport for the first time nearly hurt Raimon!

"What an amazing guy!" He concluded and the rookie gave a confused huh. The rookie seemed to relax, dropping the defensive posture and glance at him nervously. Raimon felt a little bad. As someone who has been in the field of sports for years, it should be his absolute duty to help others getting into the field with confidence! No matter how late they enter! Even more so with someone who was practicing off school hours! "Practicing even while commuting, now that's what I call "maximum effort"! I think that's a clear difference between us, I need to put more effort in!"

"You're, uh, exaggerating it..." the rookie said. What a humble guy too!

"Speaking of which, this rugby ball seems really hard to handle if you don't practice a lot." Raimon said as he handled the ball a little, turning it in his hands.

"It's American football." He corrected. They ended up talking for a while about the sport and the ball and their teams. Turns out the guy was a club secretary and was new to the game. Raimon felt a little disappointed that he was only a secretary but the fact that he was super willing to get into the sport meant that maybe there was hope he'd become a player!

The conversation about the rugby ball was cut short when he heard the coach call for him.

"Oh shit!" Raimon said under his breath. "See ya, rugby secretary!"

"Bye, be careful!" The secretary yelled after him, waving as the coach dragged him back to the field.

"We're playing against another team today, so why don't you come and watch! Come watch me pawn the game!" Raimon yelled in answer as the secretary went his own way. He still seemed nervous but Raimon could tell he was a lot more relaxed. He could consider that a pat on the back for inspiring another person about baseball.

---

Sena's original thought that the morning and week would go smoothly are cut short by meeting Raimon, getting the life scared out of him by the casino themed clubroom and the posters with him indirectly plastered on.

Raimon was... odd in a way. Odd in a good way. Sena wasn't really sure how to go about the "jumping into traffic" misunderstanding and the light burn in his hands had yet to fade. He seemed like a nice guy. Unorthodox but nice. And he was good at catching the ball. Maybe he could join the amefuto club, since they were recruiting? Kurita specifically had said that they needed someone good at catching.

The idea quickly went down as he heard Hiruma say that a receiver should be tall. Raimon was only a little bit taller than him and Sena... Sena was five feet at best. Those weren't excellent odds.

He sighed. Well, even if Raimon was tall enough, he was on the baseball team anyway. And was passionate about it too, if their previous talk was worth any salt. Sena wasn't really keen on taking that away from him.

Still, Raimon was friendly with Sena without even knowing his name. Sena didn't really remember when was the last time someone was like that to him. Maybe Riku or Mamori when they first met but that was ages ago.

A small part of Sena hoped that they could play together. That would've been nice. But another part of him knew that they weren't even acquaintances - for all he knew, Raimon could have been just like that. Naturally friendly.

Friends. Sena wasn't sure what to make of that word. It seemed like a concept too far to reach.

He was brought out of his musings when Hiruma dumped a pile of rolled up posters into his arms to hang up inside the school.

"Don't we need permission to hang these up?" Sena asked, remembering how Raimon reacted to him having the school's football.

"Just hang them up, I don't give a rat's ass!" Hiruma said, ruffling Sena's hair. Sena sighed in defeat.

"It's okay, I got permission from the student council." Mamori added.

The four club members ended up splitting up and trying to cover as much ground as possible. There was no space on the bulletin board so he had to look elsewhere. Sena had tried his luck with one of the less populated parts of the school, hoping no one would catch him. He wasn't really sure where was an appropriate place to hang them, so he just slapped them on wherever.

He was about to pass his classroom before a thought came up. Sena looked inside and found that, despite having a few people inside before school started already, the classroom didn't have any posters.

'This is as good a place as any.' Sena thought as he walked inside and propped one up near the TV. 'Will this even get anyone's attention? Well, it's better that we put them up in the first place, right?'

Sena looked at the TV, remembering what the baseball club student said. Royal Castle game, huh? Sena wondered when it would start before noticing some writing scribbled on the side of the TV.

'We're definitely going to the Christmas Bowl!' it said. And underneath it was the affiliation, first year second class and names. Kurita, Hiruma and...

"Musashi?" Sena wondered out loud. Who was Musashi? Sena then remembered what Kurita had told him about the club. He said that they originally had only three people, so Musashi was probably the third.

But as far as Sena knew, there was no one in school named Musashi. Did Musashi leave? Or was he just absent? Now that he thought about it, neither Hiruma nor Kurita said anything about a 'Musashi' in all past three weeks, with the exception of that small comment.

So that meant... Musashi left. Sena's mind couldn't help but wonder why. Why did he leave? Didn't Hiruma and Kurita share a common goal with him? If Hiruma and Kurita, who both loved amefuto so passionately, had made a club, then doesn't that mean that person was also passionate about it?

The other person must have left but the other two held the club together after that.

Weren't they friends?

Wasn't it lonely?

Was Musashi... dead?

Dread filled up in Sena's gut but he quickly shared it off. No, if someone had died in the first year, Mamori would have told him about it. Maybe would have even asked him to go to a different school. Musashi was most definitely alive. He had to be...

But then why did it seem like that was the worse alternative?

Sena's eyes drifted to the baseball field. The team was heavily focused on something, like doing stretches. Some people passed the fence, likely students. There were some that moved alone, some that moved in friend groups.

'Baseball club, huh? I wonder if Raimon is there.' Sena thought as he came closer to the window. The game was starting and Sena watched as the players got in their positions. The first toss was hit and Sena noticed a player running towards the falling ball. It was Raimon, who caught the ball inches before it hit the ground.

Maybe... it wouldn't be such a bad thing to at least ask, right?

Besides, Hiruma took in Sena as a runningback and he was... well, him. But that was because of his running ability, he had to admit. There wasn't anyone in school that was faster than Sena, even if it was because of a demon contract.

What if Raimon had good catching abilities? What if Raimon was the best catcher in school and without any supernatural curses to aid him in it?

But he was in the baseball club-

Wait. Was there a rule about being limited to only one club? If not, then-

Sena ran out of the classroom as fast as possible, running to the baseball field.

He did promise Raimon he'd watch the match, after all.

---

Sena has regretted many things in his life. Going to the baseball game was close to being in the top ten of that.

What has started out as a simply watching from near the fence ended with a ball nearly hitting Sena straight through his right cheek. His reflexes were sharp enough to duck to his left, even if the ball was only going to brush past him.

But fear of collision and possible death were nothing if not good motivators to sharpen his ability to dodge. Sena wasn't sure if Raimon excelled in catching or throwing, because a wrist flick like that could kill a man.

Raimon was good, really good at catching. He caught with precision and polished skill, maneuvered around the field with it too. Now if only Sena could have that skill not be thrown at him with the promise of lethal injury.

After the near heart attack, Sena decided that no, he does not want to die in front of dozens of people with his brains blasted out into the fence. So he had grabbed a helmet from near the bench. Strike number one.

He turned around to see what was happening, only to see... Raimon getting kicked around by his teammates. A feeling, similar to what he felt when he saw his tired teammates at the Oujo match, rose up in him. He didn't know a lot about baseball. In fact, he knew very little. But Monta had caught the ball and threw it back perfectly, so why-

Oh. He had to throw it directly into their gloves. Monta had... missed. Sena felt a little dejected. But still, baseball was a team sport, right? Just to be hated because of a mistake...

Then he overheard the coach talking about Raimon.

Raimon was a good defence player because of his catching but it wasn't enough. Baseball needed all-rounded abilities. Specialisation had no place there.

Raimon wasn't a specialised player. A horrid, rancid feeling of hope lit up in Sena. Sena didn't want to think about Raimon getting kicked out of his favorite sports team, especially for working hard at it. But an ugly thought inside him said that maybe, maybe if Raimon got kicked out, Sena could offer him a place at the American football team and-

Sena slapped himself through the helmet, fully accepting the resulting sparks of fire that went off. No. No. Bad Sena, very, very bad Sena. You are not purposefully ruining someone's entire life because you want to impress your newfound team. Stop.

But after hearing the words the coach had said, his eyes drifted to Raimon.

Sena felt like he had to go talk to him. No, scratch that, he really wanted to go talk to him. Maybe to cheer him up or to say "Hey, look, I made it to your game!"? Sena couldn't tell anymore.

He quietly got up and headed towards the crowd Raimon was in. Strike number two.

Sena was about to talk to Raimon when the coach made a roll call and he had reacted on instinct. Even after his meek protests, he had eventually all but been forced into the shirt and moved to the position of hitter.

Sena felt like he was boiling under the eyes of almost every player on the field. This was different. This wasn't like when he was Eyeshield 21. In amefuto, he had an eyeshield, a helmet, bulky armor underneath and things that would protect him.

Here he felt like he had just crawled out of a pit of burning sand, naked and afraid, surrounded by monsters. Why that was the first metaphor he thought of, he didn't know.

The first time he didn't even know what to do. The second time the ball had connected with the bat, but the vibrations went up all the way to Sena's shoulders. It hurt, it made his arms feel like boiling lead.

The yells from the other players just made it worse. Fear had flared up, his eyes were spinning in his skull and when the third and final ball was thrown, Sena had swung blindly.

The ball ended up going upwards and over the player behind him, somehow. After that, the coach had just yelled at him to run.

And Sena ran. Sena ran across the bases, had gotten a home run and kept running. Because running was all he could think of. He didn't want to be here, why did he even come here, he's so stupid, why, why, why, why did this sahara of misery never end-

Sena suddenly slammed into what felt like a tree. A walking, talking tree. He looked up from his helmet and saw a uniform. His school uniform.

"Oi." He heard from above him. He recognised that voice anywhere. He looked up and from under his helmet he saw Juumonji. Juumonji stared back at him, baffled. Sena then ran the opposite direction. "Hey, wait-"

But Sena was already long gone, running back to the baseball field because he realised he had just stolen club property.

And just as he put the uniform down, someone called out to him. It was Raimon. His panic died down and now he could do what he came for. First he had waited for Raimon to change and then, as they walked back to their classrooms, talked about the game. And then he asked Raimon to join the amefuto club.

"Say what? You want me to join the American football team?" Raimon asked, clearly surprised by the request. Sena nodded frantically, the fire in his legs and arms making it difficult to make a coherent sentence without sounding meek. "I refuse!"

Sena could almost feel his body crumple up like a paper ball. He should have expected this.

"I thought so. But, uh, can I ask why?" Sena asked.

"Because it ain't cool if I do that!" Raimon replied and Sena couldn't feel more confused. It wouldn't be cool? Was playing on two different teams considered two timing in sports? "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying American football isn't cool. I'm not that lame as to laugh at other people's passion! What i was sayin' was if I don't stay with baseball, I'll be uncool. I've bet my entire life on the glove, so one day I gotta become a hero by receiving and catching!"

"Oh!" Sena realised. "That's... that's pretty amazing."

"Yeah, it is! Being a hero on the baseball field is what made me love baseball in the first place!" Raimon added.

"Ah, no, not that! Not that it's not cool, it is. But I was, uh..." Sena corrected Raimon while feeling a bit uneasy. "It's amazing that you've got it all figured out."

"Huh?"

"You've got a dream. A good one and I can tell you can get it. I'm... I'm a little jealous is what I want to say. It makes you seem so alive. It really feels like you can do anything with such an attitude." Sena admitted sheepishly. Raimon's dream was something he worked for, something he had planned and had set in stone for years to come. Hiruma and Kurita had dreams, while not as old as Raimon's, but it made them feel so animated, filled to the brim with energy.

A dream meant something worth living for. A dream made you feel alive. And Raimon was so full of life it seemed to bleed into the people around him, whereas Sena had the physical presence of a corpse and was on his way to becoming one.

Sena had no ambition because he had no dream. Sena had no dream because he had no future to see himself in. Sena had nothing he genuinely strived to be, outside of just existing and surviving.

"Do you want one?" Raimon asked Sena. "A dream, I mean."

Sena thought to himself for a moment.

"It would be nice."

"Then find someone who you care about!" Raimon declared. "The easiest way to get a dream is through other people!"

And with that Raimon left Sena a little confused and disappointed, forcing him to return to class.

The rest of the day was left with Sena thinking about Raimon's words and silently regretting not being at least a little more forceful with his request.

---

Hiruma notices everything. He saw patterns and changes in behavior easily.

So the shrimp sighing depressingly and scratching the back of his head with hidden anger was like playing a tuba right in front of him.

What happened that made him act like this?

"Hey, what the fuck are you staring at?" Hiruma demanded, propping up his gun. Anezaki moved to hold up a bulletproof binder she had gotten in front of his face. The shrimp gently lowered the binder out of her hands.

"Nothing. I'm just... mad. Or sad. Or both. Or maybe just disappointed." The shrimp answered vaguely. That gave him absolutely nothing.

"At who?" Hiruma demanded.

"Myself? Some weird part of the universe that controls everything?" Sena added, voice more frustrated than before. As if he didn't know what to do with his frustrations. And then he mumbled something about a team. The cock of Hiruma's gun spoke all it needed. "Maybe the... baseball team of our school?"

Hiruma raised an eyebrow. The baseball team? What the fuck happened with them to make the shrimp so... puffy looking.

"What about them? If they're bullying you, I can bring it up-" Anezaki piped up, focus diverted onto the shrimp. Great, now not a single piece of shit work is gonna get done today.

"No! No, it's not that, it's..." Sena quickly backed up before he thought to himself, as if choosing his words wisely. As he should, Hiruma thought. Hiruma had heard of the small rumor that Eyeshield had made a small mishap on the baseball match. "Do you ever see someone that you know they'd do well in but can't say it outright because the thing they're currently doing is- they're good at it but at the same time not good? Like you know they'd be able to do good in this specific thing but you can't tell it to them because this one thing but it means a lot to them so you don't want to say anything bad about it? Like you just want to tell them "hey, try this instead" because you- you just know they'd be better at it?"

By the time the shrimp was finished, he let out a frustrated breath and slumped. That was a loaded issue and practically opened the whole case.

"You found us a receiver?" Hiruma nearly cackled with glee. This made perfect sense. Shrimpcake went to the baseball match after setting up the posters, found a guy who fit their bill, only to have the fuckhead refuse a golden ticket because of some shitty motivation like money or it being a popular sport. Only shit for brains flock to popularity, the niche is where demand really lies!

"Yes!" Sena nearly toppled his chair with the fervour he had in his jump. In the same second, he almost folded in on himself from disappointment. "But- no, it's like-"

And then Sena went on what Hiruma could only describe as an aggressive mime trying to put one box into another while gesturing at both and making remarks such as "but it's like this", "but that-", "but then-" and "so it's like-" before neatly exploding while waving his hands around.

The method was clearly one where he just wanted to let the fucking floodgates open and unleash a sea of insults towards his target of frustration but also withholding information to keep Hiruma from blackmailing the poor sod in question. Hiruma mentally cackled. It was funny as fuck, watching the shrimp puff up like a moody cat and still have the sense to try and protect the receiver candidate.

"Sena, use your words."

"I want to but it's- ugh!" Sena said, before sitting back down. "I feel like it's my fault for not selling it more. I'd suck as a door to door salesman."

"No shit." Hiruma agreed. Anezaki sent him a glare. What, he was right! The shrimp sucked at motivating others. Maybe it was a fifty fifty thing, judging by Oujo, or just made him more bold behind the visor. Either way, communal confrontations were not what Sena excelled in.

"Ah, that's right!" Kurita suddenly exclaimed, glancing at the clock. "The reply of us and Oujo's game is about to start."

And with that, Hiruma whipped out the projector. Sena looked like he wanted to ask something but then closed his mouth and just accepted it for what it was. Good choice. Better keep up the attitude, too, if he saw his little surprise.

At the mention of Sakuraba leaving because of his injuries, the shrimp seemed regretful. Maybe he was even wondering about visiting him. He didn't like the thought of that, even if it was just for an apology.

And then came Eyeshield's so-called reply. The expression on the shrimpcake's face was one for the history books. How can one look so traumatised yet so relaxed at the same time?

He slowly turned away from the screen to stare at Hiruma with the deadest look on his face, lift his right hand coming in to hide his face from Kurita and Anezaki.

'What the fuck, Hiruma?' The shrimp mouthed, eyes softly glowing and small canines sticking out from the edge of his lips. There it was again, that vampire-bioluminescence skit. Hiruma simply smiled smugly.

He wasn't technically wrong for doing so. As far as he can tell, he's built up Eyeshield's reputation quite solidly: a merciless bastard on the field who can pump up his teammates to work like rabid dogs while attacking the enemy, both off the field and off the game. It was the truth, with an additional Hiruma Yoichi touch given to it.

Once the broadcast ended, they turned the lights back on but Sena's eyes, while no longer glowing, still stared at him.

"Is Eyeshield someone like that?" Anezaki asked.

"Hiruam probably did it." Sena answered. Hiruma only cackled, loading up his glock.

"Oh! How did you guess?" He asked mockingly before resorting to a serious tone. "In American football, you'll win if you scare the opponents out of their wits! You gotta become a badass in order to deal with the enemy!"

'I'll bring out the demon in you and then even Seibuu will have a run for it's money.' Hiruma thought. If he could manage to bring out that part of Sena that would mercilessly plow through the competition and have it stay that way for the entire game, things would be so easy.

But they're not and that's okay. Nothing worth having came easily, after all.

---

Hearing people talk gossip about and in front of you but at the same time not to your face is a strange feeling. Like a false sense of paranoia.

Sena secretly hoped the Eyeshield 21 secret would die with him. He really did, because his reputation was getting worse and worse by the day. Even if something miniscule inside his mind seemed content with having such a brutal reputation.

"Ahoy! Secretary guy!" Resouned a voice from the entrance. Sena's mood instantly felt lighter, seeing as Raimon came around to change his shoes. Sena greeted him back as he closed his locker. "I saw the TV program yesterday! That Eyeshield guy was such an asshole!"

And suddenly Sena feels his lifespan shed 7 years and a punch to the chest. Well, the lifespan thing probably wasn't real but Sena could feel the way the tattoo almost burned through his shirt. And in public too.

'Why... what did I even do?!' Sena thought dejectedly as he clutched his chest and tried not to stagger. Why was Raimon saying this even though he didn't even do anything? Why was life treating him like a chew toy? Just- why?

Sena quickly picked himself up, trying to look composed despite feeling like a fresh bowl of hot rice was thrown at his chest. He wasn't sure if he was failing or succeeding, as Raimon quickly changed his manner of speech.

"Life must be tough, eh? Having a terrible senpai like that..." Raimon said as they both walked to their classrooms. The burning was finally receding, albeit slowly. "By the way, I never got your name!"

"Ah, it's Sena. And I'm not even sure how to answer but... having a senpai like that..." Sena thought back to Hiruma and the grin he gave Sena when they saw the broadcast. "Is difficult. But because he's with us we were able to win our first game. And I heard it's difficult to score touchdowns against Oujo."

Sweeten the pot, Sena, maybe there's still hope.

"Right! I heard your win over Koigaoka was your first win!" Raimon mentioned. Oh, right, it was. "We gotta celebrate! Your first win and me entering rank 1!"

Sena perked up at the sound of that. The burn stopped receding.

"What? Rank one? That's great, congratulations!" Sena said, realising that maybe this was for the best. Raimon loved baseball so he wouldn't want to take something like that away from him. It was what made him alive, so Sena wouldn't be mad about it. Besides, there are other receiver candidates in the school! There's bound to be at least one.

"To tell ya the truth, I'm not sure yet... it'll be announced after school... It might actually be difficult for me to make Rank 1, but I should be able to climb up there from Rank 2." Monta said, uncertainty washing over him. Sena looked over him in concern. Noticing this, Raimon brightened up and ran to his classroom, calling from behind. "Ya can't always be pessimistic about life! Come to the baseball team office after class!"

...Why did Sena feel like the comment about pessimism was directed at him specifically?

He brushed it off, trying not to think about it.

When class finally ended, he hurried down to the baseball team office. Noticing that Raimon, or anyone as a matter of fact, was not there he went to check the list. Only to realise he didn't know his name.

He saw the coaches come out of the classroom and intercepted them. He asked about Raimon, only to earn a look exchanged between the two men and have one go to the poster.

"We don't have a guy like that in our team." One said.

"You mean him?" The other pointed at a name on the poster.

Raimon Tarou? Was that his name? Seemed like it. But then Sena realised that the name was under the category Rank 3.

"Rank 3 isn't really a team. It's more like a clique. To tell the truth... they failed the test." The coach said.

"Many people want to join our team. Although it's kinda harsh, we can't let everyone in." The other said.

Sena was... a bit at a loss for words. It didn't really sink in. But then he remembered what Raimon had said about baseball. He bet his entire life on the glove. At this Sena realised that this was the price.

The price of a dream. The feeling of a dream fading away, was it similar to seeing your future slip through your hands? Was it similar to seeing death?

Sena didn't know, because while he didn't have a dream, he also never had one broken so easily. Sena couldn't put himself in Raimon's shoes but the desire to do something still burned in his chest.

"Do something." A voice called to him. "Do something or else."

Or else what? Sena couldn't really think of an answer. Would Raimon end up like he was all those months ago? Would Raimon lose the thing that made him alive?

Sena didn't realise he was running until he saw Hiruma and Kurita walking with fliers, talking about handing them to tall people.

"Sena?" Kurita asked as he stopped before them, breathing a little.

"Oi, what's with the trail of dust?" Hiruma asked.

"Listen, listen, please hear me out, Hiruma. Do receivers have to be tall?" Sena asked, voice coming out in one breath.

"What?"

"Yes or no, just please answer the question." Sena said.

"Not necessarily." Kurita answered. Sena perked up, sudden energy doubling.

"Does American football not need people who are good at only one thing?" Sena asked, foot bouncing nervously. Where was all this energy coming from?! He didn't even know Raimon for that long! But Raimon-

If Raimon couldn't become a hero in baseball, Sena will drag him kicking and screaming into that position with Amefuto. The question why simply does not matter at this point.

"Dumbass, its the other way around!" Hiruma answered. "We need people who are good at one thing because it's a very specialised sport."

And almost as if a switch had been flipped, Sena told Hiruma "give me a minute or five" and immediately ran off to a direction.

Sena wasn't sure how long he was running or how far he had run, but by the time he realised where he was running to, he was already there.

At the riverbank, and Sena could see Raimon sitting in the distance and for a while he thought he had avoided the direction where Sena came from. He hadn't seen him all day, fully expecting to meet up with him when they knew of his rank.

Flimsy expectations and even flimsier attempts at hiding one's hurt was all that came from today instead.

"Raimon?" Sena tentatively asked when he finally got close to the boy.

"Sena? What are you doing here?!" Raimon asked, putting away the baseball glove he had been eyeing.

"Looking for you. I-, uh," Sena began, realising he may or may not have forgotten why he ran over here. "Wanna hang out?"

Raimon blinked a few times before throwing him a packaged corn dog. Sena took that as a yes and sat down next to Raimon.

"You sure run fast... are you a regular player as well?" Raimon asked, opening a canned drink. Ah, so he did see Sena run all the way here.

"Maybe? I'm sort of on secretary duty but I play as a regular." Sena said sheepishly.

"A regular player, huh? I'm not even fit to be one." Raimon said as he handled the baseball glove. He saw Sena eyeing it and brought it forward. "This glove was given to me by a professional baseball player called Honjou."

Raimon began telling Sena about the time when he went to a baseball game, one where the same Honjou had played. He recalled how the crowd cheered for him whenever he made a brilliant catch, similar to that of a hero. And how Honjou had thrown Raimon his own glove at that very same game.

The story was inspiring, in Sena's opinion, but with the way Raimon talked, it seemed more like a bittersweet memory.

"But what awaits me is... something every guy has to go through - the first disappointment in life. Everyone realises it by then..." Raimon said, putting the glove over his head and seemingly curling in on himself. Sena knew that position well. The point where emotion and regret becomes too much and it all just comes falling like a sack of bricks. You try to keep it in, you fail and so the only thing you can do is try and hide the tears. "And for me... it's that it's impossible to become a professional baseball player."

"Raimon..." Sena put a hand on Raimon's shoulder. He didn't even look at Sena. "Raimon, please answer me."

Hesitantly, Raimon wiped his tears and looked at Sena, partially wondering why Sena was suddenly so up front.

"You told me you were going to be a hero by receiving and catching, right?" Sena asked, a familiar spark going off in his loins as Raimon nodded. His chest was heating up, like an oven ready to bake. No, more accurately would be like an engine waiting for the nitro to fill inside the canisters and fly. "Why do you think baseball is the only way you can do that?"

"What do you mean why? It started with baseball so I should go through with it through baseball!" Raimon said, tears fully forgotten. "You talk like you have an alternative."

"Do you want to see the alternative?" Sena asked, feet jumping and hands scratching themselves. Asking the question was hard enough as it was, his teeth close to either not letting his jaw move or moving at a speed that made them almost chatter. Please say yes, please say yes, say yes, say yes.

Raimon stared at him for a moment before punching the glove one more time and throwing his hands in the air.

"Surprise me, I guess?" Raimon said, hope dying in his eyes.

And it was like Sena was an angry dog let off his leash. Hearing Raimon trust and confide in him to something like a decade long dream flipped a switch in Sena and his curse. The tattoo on his neck sparked to burning life, the arrow on his chest grew and suddenly Sena felt like he could conquer the world. Its almost as if the curse took Sena's regular adrenaline cocktail and added five shots of methamphetamine.

He did not know what happened, or what his thought process was, or how he could even do that, but by the time he was halfway to Deimon, Sena realised he had all but ran through gardens, alleys, bridges and tunnels with Raimon thrown over one shoulder and their bags thrown over the other.

It was exhilarating, it was sublime, it made Sena feel alive.

Sena felt like a man who had just discovered his place in the world. Like a person who had achieved the most aggressive form of self enlightenment.

Like a demon who just achieved holiness.

Nothing seemed to touch him anymore, the words "stamina" and "tired" didn't exist, air didn't seem necessary and the burn in his limbs seemed less painful.

Raimons yells for him to slow down and put him down fell on deaf ears as Sena began getting bolder, jumping over fences and running on garden walls. He was hurrying back to Deimon. Sena was not smart, by all means. In fact, had he not been overwhelmed by the sheer amount of power coursing through his veins, he would have berated and beaten himself up for literally kidnapping a person and sending them to a demon for the sake of a childhood dream.

But Sena did not think, he simply acted. Because Raimon was his friend and Sena had always wanted a friend. Not someone who bullied him into being a gopher. Someone who would stand up and tell him "get up, let's beat them up together".

Sena, in the end, never had something like that. He died, came back to life as something less and began to realise that human contact would kill him. Sena had turned into a shell of a person.

Sena never had something like that and, maybe, in a way, that killed him.

Sena will not allow Raimon to get himself killed the same way. He didn't need a reason not to.

So all coherent thought had gone out the window, replaced by a sudden primordial feeling that wired him into a demigod of a madman.

The minute Sena had ran through the field, that surrounded the entrance of the school, and jumped from the wall, exhaustion slammed into him. He was burning alive, he tasted a small hint of blood in his mouth and felt like he was getting crushed by gravity. Or maybe that was just Raimon weighing more than him. And maybe the fact that he carried two school bags and a bag full of snacks all the way from the riverbank.

Whatever, Sena was going to get Raimon back on his feet. If baseball failed Raimon and vice versa, Hiruma will drag Raimon into American football with a new dream and Sena will encourage them both.

Running past the students who were still going home, Sena ran to the clubhouse and kicked the door open. Nobody was there. Mamori must still be handing out fliers, maybe Hiruma and Kurita too. Off to the field then.

At the sight of Hiruma and Kurita at the field, talking about equipment, Sena sped up towards them, ignoring the barking of Cerberus.

"What the fuck- Who is that?! Where did you go?! And why do you look like that?!" Hiruma yelled as he quickly pulled out a gun. Sena wasn't really sure what he was talking about.

After running through the length of the entire field, Sena finally started stumbling to a stop, wheezing as wonderful, crisp spring air entered his lungs.

Sena quickly swatted the gun poking his head and dropped the bags off his shoulders. What a fucking relief it was. Sena was sure he would've ran through the entire town to look for them if he didn't find them at the school.

"Hiruma- Hiruma, fire of my loins, put the gun down-" Sena wheezed as he set Raimon down off his shoulders, fatigue crashing into him like a freight train. After a few greedy gulps of air, he looked at Raimon, ruffled, shocked and extremely perplexed, and Hiruma, who was seconds away from smacking Sena with the back of his gun. Sena then outstretched his arms to present Raimon. "Rai...mon- Taro."

"Sena, what the fuck.." Raimon mumbled, worried more about Sena than himself.

There was a moment of silence as Sena tried to control his breathing.

"Okay?" Kurita broke the silence. Sena then realised that they'd need to see what Sena saw to understand his thought process.

"Raimon, Raimon, listen to me. I'm going to sound insensitive and like a total piece of shit for asking you for this." Sena said as he firmly grasped Raimon's shoulders. "I want you to try out for the position of someone who's very good at catching on the American football team."

"You want me to give up baseball for American football?" Raimon retorted. "That's like running away. I can't do it. Too uncool."

"It's not running away-" Sena wheezed, stretching his limbs and hearing them pop. "I- gods above, was the air always this tasty- I first hoped- that I could just live through high-school like a ghost. To just- disappear after three years."

"Okay?" Raimon spoke.

"I sucked absolute ass at it. I failed so fucking miserably on the first day. It's not even funny."

"Oh."

"No shit." Hiruma piped up.

"Yeah. But-" Sena took another deep breath. "Then I got roped up into all kinds of stuff. Stuff i was terrified of doing, stuff i was seriously against. Like American football. I wanted to stay away from it. But i-"

"Take your time, Sena." Kurita said. Sena let go of Raimon to make a quick "okay" gesture before placing it back on his shoulders.

"I was just running away. I wasn't even running, I was just standing right where I was without making any progress. I was pathetic." Sena said, lightly shaking Raimon's shoulders. "And! I still am! Pathethic!"

"What? You're not-" Raimon quickly tried to argue but was shut up by Sena saying the phrase again with more vigor.

"If I can't change- if I had years to change and I didn't do anything, am I to blame? Are my circumstances to blame? Is it the environment? Is it just the universe in general?"

Raimon looked both intrigued and horrified.

"The answer is nothing! Nobody's at fault for things just- just happening like that! But it's-" Sena interrupted himself as he coughed and wheezed again. "It's not always bad. Me meeting Hiruma just turned out that way, me meeting you just turned out that way. Even though i lived for months hoping I could just disappear for the sake of everyone around me, it turned out differently. And I'm happy-"

A few sobs came out of Sena.

"I'm happy it turned out that way." Sena finally finished.

Raimon looked touched. Hopeful. Amazed to an extent even.

"Sena, dude, thank you. But some fools just refuse to turn back." Raimon said as he tried to cover up the emotions swelling inside him.

"Open your mind and let the air come through!" Sena wheezed in protest.

"Sena, thank you, I mean it but you need to lie down, you ran way too fast for it to be normal. Or calm down at least." Raimon said as he pressed his hands to gently push Sena down to sit on the floor. Sena, still high on whatever amphetamines the demonic curse had bestowed upon him, resisted but still had his hands on Raimon's shoulders.

The whole situation looked like a scene out of the Exorcist: Sena was halfway crouched while holding onto Raimon's shoulders for dear life, curling backwards as he tried to wheeze out instructions of throwing a bunch of balls into the air and having Raimon catch them.

Then Hiruma pulled out what seemed to be a bottle and a rag and before Sena could finish what he wanted to say, a sweet smelling cloth was pressed to his face and he felt himself weaken.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Hiruma asked Raimon as he grabbed Sena out of the first years hold and hauled him into one arm.

"I study here? But if you're specific then the riverbank?" Raimon asked, clearly befuddled by the entire situation. Sena, still awake but much more groggy and tired, could only listen to the conversation.

"Are you saying this little bastard ran all the way to the riverbank and immediately grabbed you and ran with your sorry ass back here?!" Hiruma demanded, an emotion that Sena didn't recognise in his voice.

"No I didn't!" Sena piped up in his hold. "I found him, we talked, we had snacks and then I grabbed him and we ran."

"You mean you ran and I held on for dear life as you parkoured your way through the neighbourhood." Raimon said in a disbelieving voice.

"You what?!" Kurita exclaimed, worried beyond comprehension.

"I found our receiver." Sena answered, focus coming back slowly.

"... Is this the guy who you mentioned yesterday?"

"Yes."

"God fucking damn it, shrimpcake."

"Are you mad?" Sena asked as his vision was blacking out. He never got to hear the answer, even as he was being shaken.

---

Hiruma was so fucking tired of Sena being so painfully backwards. Most people have morals, modus of operandi, preferences, a fucking personality with a pattern.

Not Sena Kobayakawa. Not this singular first year with at least three different personalities with some fucked up control schedule.

Not this fucking shrimp, who's incompetent as a simple secretary but suddenly manages to grow a spine huge enough to find a receiver and carry him back to Deimon in six minutes or less.

Fucking hell. This was good, yes, but also bad because Hiruma had heard them enter the school by the sudden yells and screams of civilian students. Sena had also come back with twigs and dirt covering his hair and face, some parts of his uniform were even ripped in odd edges.

The first year came back from what looked like a knife fight with a grocery bag of snacks and one Rai Montarou clinging for dear life on his shoulders.

Sena was so out of his mind that his body looked like it was about to vibrate out of existence if Hiruma hadn't busted out the chloroform. Which the shrimp was apparently partially immune to. Whatever, he was gonna invest in tranquillisers either way.

And now he had a passed out runningback in one arm, a gun in the other and a monkey of a person trying to somehow help them carry him to the club room.

Not before Hiruma tested if Sena had actually found them a receiver or just grabbed some random bozo. A good distance away he had yelled at the monkey to grab the bags, Kurita would help with carrying Sena.

And lo and behold, Montarou managed to catch his surprise pass with one hand while the other was busy with bags on his hands.

At the end of the day, Sena was worth all the trouble and paranoia he caused to the general populace. Miraculously.

Now came the question of the hour: does the monkey join their team because of blackmail, the inspirational guilt trip Sena had showcased, a bribe or could he actually begin to like amefuto?

Its only when they came to the clubhouse did anyone even mention the hole in his pants. Where did it come from, how did it get there? Nobody knew, nobody cared. Well, with the exception of Anezaki.

Mamori, in typical class president fashion, blew her gasket when she saw Sena, incredibly disheveled, being carried like a sack in Hiruma's arms and Monta looking like... that.

A quick apology and a run down of the situation from the monkey was enough to keep the fucking manager from trying to kill all three of them. But not enough to keep her from letting them just mind their fucking business.

Judging by Monta's reaction to Anezaki's offer to mend his pants while they waited for the shrimpcake to wake up, it seemed there wouldn't be much trouble bribing him into the team.

A little bit of manipulation here, some slander on Eyeshield's name there and he'll have the monkey in their ranks as soon as tomorrow.

"Was Sena always like this?" The monkey asked as he sat waiting for his pants to be mended while looking at Sena, who was blissfully passed out on a makeshift surface from several chairs.

"No." Anezaki sighed in answer.

"Really? What happened?" Does the monkey have a hobby of sticking his nose where it doesn't belong?

"Something, apparently." Anezaki huffed, brow farrowing in both concentration and dissatisfaction. She suddenly looked at the newcomer. "Do you know?"

"I've known Sena for about 2 days." Monta admits, voice as dry as the air. Blunt but essentially not a lie. Wow.

Two days. Two days is the required minimum for which the shrimp needed to get attached so much that he would literally change someone's life.

"And now Sena would die for you." Hiruma barked out, clear distaste showing as he poked the shrimp with the muzzle of his gun. No reaction, outside of the manager snapping at him to not do that.

"I'm sorry?"

"You will be, at some point." Hiruma answered as he pulled out his laptop to get to work. And that's less of a threat and more of an unfortunate promise. It's been a few days since he saw that and while he was the only one who had information like that on him, that's not something that will stay constant. Rumors, secrets and scandals buried deep in the past will come out one day. The way how information was slowly becoming more and more valuable was a show of that.

It's inevitable.

And if by that time Sena had not accumulated a large circle of allies, be it in the school or outside of it, some will realise just how much damage is about to be brought on. Be it emotional or physical.

The best way to keep a secret is to pretend there's no secret at all. Which means either making it public knowledge or have it not be a secret, so much as information available to a few select people so as to not make it be suspicious.

Problem: if information like this were to become public, Hiruma would bet his left lung on the fact that Sena would be involved in some medical government experiment to "find the secrets of longevity". Or maybe become an urban legend that gets hounded by public reporters hoping to find out what really happened.

For Sena, who could feel the eyes of someone from a hundred feet away on him and be unnerved by it, that would be a nightmare come true. Best case scenario he'd leave the country altogether. Worst case-

No. Worst case won't come. Hiruma won't let it. If it goes down to that, he'll personally pull a few slaves up to forge a whole new identity for the shrimp and his family. They'll have to change everything, hell, maybe even move to Kansai or Shikoku. And that would throw his plans into the literal pits of hell, never to return.

So plan "B" it was. Get Sena to have a tight knit but loyal social circle where, at some point, he'll either feel brave or safe enough to let loose the truth and Hiruma can find Japan's most infuriating look-alike and send him straight to hell.

This was their best case scenario. And, frankly, if all went well, he'd probably achieve it by the start of the fall tournament.

But Murphy's law isn't called a law for nothing. And Sena's trauma is that much more intense than previously assumed.

So Hiruma has to be cautious and hyperaware.

During his musings as he typed away at the computer, Sena groaned himself back to awareness.

"What... the hell..." Sena rasped, moving his arm to rub at his face.

"Welcome back to the realm of the living, shrimp." He said blandly as he reached over to poke his cheek. "Good to know you didn't die on us."

Sena groaned even more, reaching for the edge of the table to haul himself up.

He rubbed up and down his face in a mock attempt to try and wake up.

"Oh, hey Sena." The monkey piped up.

"Hi Raimon-" Just as Sena said that he whipped his head to look at Monta, who was sitting across from him in his underwear. "Raimon?"

"Yeah?"

"You're not an oxygen deprived hallucination?"

"No. Why would I be?!" Monta said, seemingly offended by the gesture. "You passed out in the middle of the field, I wasn't going to just let you get carried off!"

"Carried off- what are you-" realisation dawned on the shrimp as he seemed to recall everything that had happened. He sat up straight, looked around the room and reality seemed to catch up on him.

"Sena?" Mamori asked, finishing the last stitch on the now mended pants.

"Oh god." Sena whispered to himself as he buried his face in his hands. "Ooooooh goooooodddd, whyyyyyyyy? Why did I do that?"

"You okay?" Monta asked as he gratefully took the pants and put them on.

"Raimon, I am so sorry, I shouldn't have pressured you like that, I didn't mean to, i swear, it's like this plan just automatically came into my head and I didn't even bother to check it." Sena bemoaned as he began to vehemently apologise to the boy.

"It- apology accepted but why?"

"I- crap," Sena whispered to himself. It wasn't loud enough for Anezaki to hear. Good, she would've blown a fuse. "I saw the bulletin board and I had no idea that you saw it and I felt like crap, thinking it was my fault."

"Sena, you didn't even try out for the club." Monta clarified. "What are you going on about?"

"I felt like you would lose your will to live if you couldn't achieve your dream anymore so I wanted to give you a new one with the American football team. And I didn't even consider your feelings or that I came on to strong and I'm sorry-" Sena was now babling like a drunk girl talking to her best friend in the club bathroom about something. Wow. What an amazing amount of material to emotionally analyse. Too bad Hiruma has no empathy. "My head hurts so much right now, but I should've just left it at that and let you think on it, i-"

Sena's words had drawled off to something unintelligible while his hands started making odd motions here and there.

"Sena, take a deep breath." Anezaki said as she passed a glass of water to Sena. The runningback took it and drank it slowly, shaky hands trying their best to stay leveled. Mamori then turned to Raimon. "Sena didn't actually do anything regrettable, right?"

"No? I don't think so. I mean minus hauling me over here, nothing much. Is it the last day for tryouts for the team, or is he really that passionate about American football?" Raimon said.

"Our plan for picking out players hasn't even started yet." Kurita admitted bashfully. "But if it's Sena, then I guess it should've been expected."

"Really?" Raimon asked.

"Mhm, Sena's a hard worker. He gives his all where counts the most!"

'A lousy worker too. He put up posters wherever, little idiot. He's unfit to be a secretary.' Hiruma thought to himself as he kept an ear out for the conversation. 'But he makes up for it with speed i suppose.'

"I'm not, really..." Sena said looking away from the group and putting the cup down. His eyes drifted to the window and saw that the sun was already setting. "Wait, what time is it?!"

"Way too late for any of us to still be here." Hiruma finally said, saving his work and closing his laptop. Sena looked mortified. "Now that body number 1 has risen from the dead, we can finally get on with our lives."

"Wait, did you guys wait for me to wake up?"

"Yeah." Kurita answered.

"Why?" Sena seemed confused as to why they wouldn't apparently leave him to simply sleep on the grass.

"Do you know how stupid that question is?" Do you seriously value yourself so little that you wouldn't be surprised if we just left you on the street, is what Hiruma wanted to say. But he doesn't. "You lot get going, I'll lock up this place tonight."

Which more or less meant that Hiruma could put his plan into action.

Mamori excused herself and, after fussing over the two midgets of the room, excused herself to go do something she was meant to do after school.

The fatty also left so Monta had graciously offered to walk with Sena until they had to part ways. Buddy system, a good call.

Not for long, as Hiruma knew all the best places for kidnapping unsuspecting civilians.

Hiruma didn't even have to try that hard. Just hide in some bushes and snatch him when Monkey isn't looking.

Though it's surprising how quickly Sena manages to find them both. But his reactions of him calling Eyeshield 21 the big boss who makes the rest of them do the dirty work and had Anezaki in his hands because of his skills was hilarious. It's a mix of scandalised and disbelieving. Partly wondering when this slander will end. What a fucking comedy act.

He's way too much of an open book to be able to hide secrets. Yet had it not been for Hiruma's stash of unfiltered camera records, he would have never found out in the first place.

Manipulating the monkey is as easy as breathing. He's gullible, incredibly so. He still got his desired result, with the monkey walking off to tell him he'll think about it.

Once out of ear shot, he dropped the cigarette and crushed it out.

"You can come out, I know you're there!" He said in a sing song voice. Sena immediately popped out of the bushes, still scandalised.

"How could you say all those things?! And all that about Mamori too! Me and her as- no! Just-" Sena began, a look of disgust washing over him for a moment before sighing and sagging. "I'll never understand you."

Hiruma laughed at that as he went over to him and started leading him out of the playground.

"You don't have to understand. You just gotta accept it for what it is. Now let's go, the monkey probably bailed so-" Hiruma said before there was a tug on his hand. He looked back, seeing Sena simply standing there and looking at his hand wrapped around the first year's wrist. It wasn't a tight hold so-

Oh. He recognised that look on his face. Marvelling at something intricate. Like a cat seeing it's first Christmas tree, just barely holding itself back from knocking the damn thing over.

Was the shrimp really so out of it today that he got entranced by Hiruma simply holding his hand?

"Shrimpcake? Hello?" Hiruma snapped his fingers in front of his face. Sena snapped out of it, stammered an apology and let Hiruma lead him back to his own house, keeping up with his pace.

He didn't question how he knew where he lived or anything of that sort. Instead, just as Hiruma was about to turn around, he called out to him.

He looked like he wanted to say something but stopped and simply wished him good-night.

Weird little shit.

The answer of what he wanted to say came in the morning, likely after Sena saw Monta in the amefuto uniform.

Tiny bastard had slammed into him from behind in a death grip of a hug, chanting "thank you" into his back before he sicked Cerberus on him.

---

Training with Raimon felt a lot easier now, mostly because there was none of the awkward silence when he was doing it by himself. Hiruma and Kurita were already strong enough that they only need some warm ups and training to keep up their physique. Even then, Kurita's idea of a warm up was doing high-speed benchpresses. Sena was told to train until he had some real muscle on him. And the same went with Raimon.

So this is how some days of the week had gone by. Peacefully training and occasional errands. It felt nice. He and Raimon had exchanged phone numbers and usually went to get snacks for the team. They talked at the time and Sena had found out that Monta had been a gopher in some ways as well.

Not to the extent Sena was but to him it didn't make any difference. Going after snacks for people was usually a stressful and tedious task.

Sena never realised you could go on snack runs with a friend. It was funner that way and more efficient. Plus it wasn't as tedious.

It became something to look forward to.

He was brought out of his musings when Cerberus had thrown a newspaper through the window. Hellhounds were smarter than they looked, huh.

Hiruma read something in the paper, his face scrunched up and he threw the newspaper down with a loud curse. Curiosity got the best of them and Sena looked over the newspaper.

'Snatch-steal on motorcycle strikes again.' The headline said.

"Yikes! Another motorcycle snatch incident." Raimon said. Sena raised an eyebrow. How did that make Hiruma mad?

Wait. Did demons have assigned territories? It would make sense if they did. This would technically be like finding out someone from the neighbourhood was trespassing into your yard and stealing your lemons. And Hiruma... Hiruma was a bit of a control maniac. Nothing happens without his say in it, so random incidents on the place that he managed- okay, yeah that made sense.

Sena checked the information and flinched. It happened in the place where they usually went jogging. They were that close?

Sena felt goosebumps rise on his arm. Okay, no, calm down, this was today's paper. There's no way the culprit would strike twice in the same area in the very next day. That's not how hit and runs work. Sena knew this.

Back in the first week of the incident, Sena had played truant for the first time.

Yes, he actually skipped class. He was still horrified himself. But it... technically wasn't skipping class if it was last period. And he was sent to the nurse's office because the teacher said he looked pale. And the nurse had sent him home early.

And instead of going home properly, some insane and sick part of his brain drove him to run to the place where he had gotten smeared across the asphalt.

Sena had nearly cried halfway there. But some evil and self-suffering will inside of him forced him to go to the place where he had died.

Only for the entire place to be completely sterile. There was no stench of blood, no tire marks indicating a car jam, no leftover stains on the walls or roads.

Clean. Not even a single thing out of place. Like nothing had ever happened. A simple street, oversaturated in the soft autumn glow of the sun slowly setting, with orange leaves billowing in the wind.

The shock that came about made Sena hobble his way to a familiar park. Maybe some lost part of Sena had hoped that Takeru would be there. Maybe he hoped that Takeru was still in Kanto and could visit the park. Maybe he had hoped to actually tell Takeru what had happened, to beg him to tell him what he saw, to prove to him that what happened that day was real.

That Takeru was real. That what he feels is real.

But miracles don't happen and if they did, they certainly didn't happen for Sena.

He's not sure what broke him more, the blank murder scene or a small wish to an angel ending with nothing.

That was probably the day where Sena became more and more... dead, in a way. Lifeless.

But that was months ago. And Sena was getting better. Slowly and painfully, but better. He was better. He would be better.

He's got nothing else going for him.

"It must be Zokugaku." Raimon said.

"Zokugaku?" Sena asked. Did Raimon know who it was?

"It's that high-school from across the river but... it's pretty much gangster hideout. That place looks like it's straight out of a movie." Raimon said and before Sena could even comment on that, a hand grabbed his head, pushed it into Raimon's and rubbed their heads in a noogie.

"Not that! Turn to the sports section!" Hiruma bellowed above them. Ah, so he was partially right. Hiruma wouldn't so much as glance at the criminal reports of the town.

And it had shown that Oujo nearly lost. In their third round. A 7-6 end score. To Sankaku High.

Sena didn't even hide his grimace.

"What..." Sena breathed out, feeling almost offended. They barely got three touchdowns in their match while Oujo got sixty points. And then this happens.

"Fucking exactly." Hiruma spat out as he glared at the paper, scowling.

"7 to 6! Talk about a close game!" Kurita exclaimed.

"Those dipshits nearly lost in their third round too! Now the propaganda we worked for has lost it's appeal!" Hiruma barked out.

"Speaking of propaganda, the flyers and posters are good ideas but wouldn't it be just as good to hold a game? We can use the school field." Mamori piped up from reviewing the tapes. At the sound of a game, Hiruma had done a one-eighty and was already typing away at his computer and phone in hand.

Sena sighed as he heard Raimon say something about speed. He'll get used to it.

"Well, a game could be good. It's been a while since we've played too." Sena answered and then saw how Mamori tilted her head. "And, uh, I heard Eyeshield was getting restless. Said something about... needing more enemies."

Sena could feel the way Hiruma's disbelieving stare pierced into him.

"Oi, shrimpcake and shrimp number 2. You go do some running and get some equipment along the way." Hiruma said and grabbed an envelope with a map and threw it at Raimon. He then pointed at the receiver. "You. Make sure he stays out of bullshit. And you!"

The finger was then directed at Sena.

"Stay out of bullshit." Or else, went unheard. Sena gulped and gave a mock salute.

---

Staying out of bullshit was apparently easier said than done. Because just as they had both found the sport's equipment store, Sena had run into Shin of all people.

Shin was jogging and Sena ran right past him, only to get a quick look at his face. He looked focused. Or maybe intense was his default look. Maybe even angry.

Sena had passed him and he was a few feet away when he realised that Shin didn't recognise him. He could only sigh in relief. And maybe disappointment.

He didn't really know Shin outside of the Oujo match. But it would've been nice to talk to him.

Shin suddenly stopped, made a quick look at him before turning away.

"Are you Eyeshield 21?" Shin asked with a voice that was both on edge and surprised. If anyone had seen Sena's face, they would've thought he was having a heart attack.

He and Hiruma had put genuine work into keeping Sena's identity a secret and yet here Shin was, tearing it down in less than a second. Sena inhaled, bitterly sent a mental apology to the blond demon and turned his head.

"Yes?" Sena said as steadily as he could. Shin then turned around completely, looking him over. Just as he was about to say something, the roar of an engine, jeers and Raimon yelling reached their ears.

Sena's head snapped down to the store to see Raimon chasing a motorcycle with two people on it. A brief yelling match told him all he needed to hear.

Raimon got robbed and the money they were supposed to buy the equipment with was stolen by the same bikers he had read about in the paper.

'So much for staying out of trouble.' He thought sarcastically as he nearly skidded on the road to chase them.

"There's a traffic jam near the bridge." A voice behind him said. Sena turned to see Shin, armed with gloves, running beside him. "We should be able to catch up with them with our pace."

The mention of traffic jam hadn't registered completely in Sena's until they were nearing the bridge. His mind nearly skidded to a halt.

Sena making progress, yes, but nowhere near cars. Not around damn cars. A traffic jam isn't going to help him at all. If anything, Sena wanted to stop altogether.

But he couldn't. If Sena were to stop, he'd let the money get taken and let Shin run into the same traffic trying to get it back. Failing a task given to them by Hiruma is one thing, letting Shin try and dodge sporadically moving cars is another.

A part of Sena wanted to stop Shin, to tell him to let it go, its just money. But another part of him knew differently.

That Shin wouldn't listen, Shin would run after the motorcycle and-

And then what? Get hit by a car? Get run over? Die?

Sena screamed internally as he let himself run with him.

The guilt, the fear and the spike of adrenaline sent Sena into a flash of heat so strong he felt cold. Everything was blurring. He barely heard Shin talk about instructions.

Everything was blurring, he felt like he was on fire and-

A loud honk from his left suddenly flipped a switch.

He had realised he was already on the street, surrounded by active vehicles and everything is so loud-

The world blurs, changes tone and suddenly Sena is no longer seeing a bridge full of dangerous cars.

No, what Sena then sees is hell. It has to be.

The cars are turned to jagged red stone formations, the asphalt turns to rough black sand and the people around him turn into silhouettes of burning bodies, spectres trying to swim towards him and claw at him.

The air is nothing more than radiating heat and sand in his face and lungs as everything burned beyond belief.

And in that moment Sena loses his fucking mind.

All fear of bodily harm and Shin getting run over is replaced by a burning, almost melting rage and a fear, so cold it freezes his heart, that makes Sena snarl at the specters and move swiftly with the sandy wind through the maze of rocks.

He jumped, twisted, turned and avoided anything that came at him, a few specters getting ripped to shreds by his claws as he ran, faster, wilder, stronger, faster, until he catcher the bastard that stole his damn necklace, that person gave it to him-

From his right, just as he passed another rock, he saw a silhouette of something, a rider of sorts with a strange collar like pendant-

The view, the sudden visions and perspective shifted back to reality, back to the cars, the people, the road and the bikers and yet.

And yet the rage and bloodthirsty itch in his teeth stayed as swiftly swerved at the two on the bike.

"Gotcha." Sena snarled, a vicious and sharp smile splitting across his face as his eyes glowed orange under the shadow cast by his hair. His hands- claws- reached out and grabbed both of their collars and yanked them into the barristers.

Sena payed no mind to the sound of them yelling something about money or anything of the likes.

The sound of a crash and something exploding didn't even phase Sena as he grabbed the two offenders, pulled them by their jackets and slammed them down back into the steel barristers.

All that Sena felt right now was the unnervingly bloody form of rage at the people who tried to pull a fast one on him.

"Look at me." Sena growled out, hands pulling at the fabric so strongly he could feel it tear a little. The nerves were still on fire, the world still seemed to blink in and out of reality and the burning bodies that came out of the corner of his eyes just made him lose more and more control. He can't do this, he can't breathe but he feels like his organs are boiled and all he can do is threaten the two delinquents like he was about to kill them. "I said look at me."

His voice came out hoarse, sharp, deadly, evil even. The two teens flinched and raised their heads to look at Sena.

"I hope you have a will and a comedy act ready, because for a bunch of clowns you sure like to play around like you're ready to die. Do you think this is funny? Do you think you can just walk around like you own this place and then act scared when you get your ass handed to you." Sena nearly roared, vision going through a static like lense. He heard someone call for him but he ignored him. "You better peal your ears open and you better do it well. I'm not letting you go because I'm nice. I'm letting you go with a warning. If I see you pulling this shit again, running around like you've got the biggest dicks in the room? I'll peel you like a grape."

A hand held Sena's back, only to draw it back immediately. He didn't notice.

"I'll peel your skin, your muscles, your nerves, your everything until you're nothing but bone. I'll make you regret it. So now you apologise for acting like you've got the biggest dick in the room, you're getting into the police car and once your boss bails you out." Sena said, panic, trauma, fear and mania finally catching up to him. His voice trailed off to a sneer before turning into a hysterical chuckle. "When you see him, you tell him he better cut this shit out or I'll make him. Capisce?"

The two teens were shaking, fear in their eyes and Sena could see his own reflection in them. His eyes were orange, so orange they glowed and his teeth seemed to be similar to that of a monster than human.

Realisation struck as the teens shook their heads in fear with tears falling from their eyes, gripping Sena's arms like they were begging him to let go.

And reality slammed down on Sena. Sena was scared, sweaty, tired, jittery and ready to vomit his breakfast from his chapped lips. He felt weak, he felt like livewire and he was ready to just break down.

And yet he was so monstrous, so sinister looking to these teens, who couldn't be a year older than Sena, as they looked at him like he was the devil. Like he was gonna hurt them. Like he was gonna kill them.

And Sena nearly did. And Sena was about to. And Sena had promised to do so too.

The tattoo on his neck felt like ice. For the first time in almost 7 months, the tattoo felt like it was gonna give him freezeburns.

Like a giant, cold, iron leash on a beast. A collar made of silver, burning its holy chains into his wretched, hellborn neck.

Sena felt so sick of himself. Getting better? What a joke.

Sena was getting worse. Sena was turning into a monster. Sena was turning into-

"Eyeshield!" Somebody shook him hard enough that Sena had let go of the teens, who crawled away in terror. Two large and familiar hands wrapped around his torso stopping him in his tracks.

Shin. Shin was holding him. Shin was holding Sena back.

Shin was holding a monster in human flesh, parading as one in his own oblivious nature.

"Shin." Sena breathed out.

"I called the authorities, they'll be here in a few minutes, their motorcycles are destroyed. You don't need to do anything, just let-" Shin said, a careful but blunt voice echoing behind Sena's head. Shin was holding him so carefully, so gently like he was afraid to crush Sena.

"Shin. Let me go."

"Not until-"

"Let. Me. Go." Sena said as his voice came to a small shimmer. He had barely managed to mouth 'Please', all air and desire to talk gone. He wanted to leave, he wanted to get away, he wanted to go hide in some dark corner and cry, he-

He didn't want to hurt Shin.

Several emotions went through Shin's eyes as he reluctantly placed Sena on the ground. Sena looked at the two delinquents and then ran.

"Eyesh-" Shin called as he reached his hand out.

"Please handle the police statement, I- i can't breathe." Sena slurred out as he ran back to the bridge, back away from the crash and the traffic jam.

Sena ran and the visions came back. People and bystanders turned into hellish silhouettes of burning bodies and inanimate objects turned into red stones, scaring him and tearing into him as his body moved with the wind away, away, away-

Sena realised he was back at the place he had met Shin. Near the sport's equipment store.

He was burning up, freezing, terrified and couldn't trust his eyes. He looked down unto his hands. The kept switching, his vision kept glitching.

Hands, claws, hands, orange claws, hands, claws with fire, hands, claws with innards and blood on them, hands, claws gripping something, an arm, near his neck, he's being choked, who's arm-

Belial. Belial, Belial was choking the life out of-

Sena saw the last image so clearly that it terrified him.

He saw the alley that separated the sports building between the other houses. He ran into it.

He's not sure how far he got, maybe a few houses away but Sena's legs quickly gave out, making him dig his claws into the wall to the left of him.

Claws? Claws?! Cl-

Sena whipped around to look at his hands again. Human. Soft, rigid, shaky human hands that were gripping the wall with all their might.

What had he done? What was he doing? What was all that-

What the hell is he?!

"Sena!" A voice called out as Sena was just about to drop on his knees and curl up.

He ignored it, he couldn't hear it. His mind was too preoccupied with trying to comprehend what the fuck he saw.

He feels dizzy. He feels jittery and very, very dizzy.

It's difficult, it's hard to think when Sena's mind keeps replaying the scenes of him running from specters in a giant desert over and over again. Sounds didn't process as well as they did, his vision kept switching back and forth and his teeth were chattering.

"Shit, shit, crap, maybe Hiruma knows-" Raimon trailed off. Noise was bouncing back and forth like a ball in a game of football and Sena could only barely try and focus on getting a grip.

---

Hiruma took off his helmet, wiping the small beads of sweat off of his forehead. It was hot as hell in wearing this thing!

Still, he had managed to rile up Zokugaku's captain strongly enough that a match was made. The supervisor and the captain had already left and Hiruma was left with himself. He was surprised nobody had interrupted him He looked at the clock.

He checked out the window. Anezaki and Kurita were outside. But no hide or tail of the shrimp duo. Where the fuck were those two?! They should've been here by now!

A faint vibration from the booth caught his attention. He looked to see his phone buzzing before dying down to signify a missed call. Who fucking called him? He usually called his slaves not the other way around.

He walked over to the desk, picked up his phone and looked at the notifications. His eyes widened.

7 missed calls from Rai Montarou. 14 unread messages from Rai Montarou.

Hiruma cursed under his breath, switching out of his clothes at lightning speed and grabbing his gun. By the time he opened the messages on his phone, he was already out of the clubhouse.

"Hiruma?"

"Hiruma, what-"

"Something came up, don't ask questions, get a medkit ready in case of injury." Hiruma barked out at the two of them as he looked over the messages.

Rai Montarou: HIRHUMA PIVK UP.

Rai Montarou: SSENAS ACTING MAX WERIF!

Rai Montarou: WEIRD*!

Rai Montarou: SOMETHING HAPPEMD, PLS PICK UP!

Rai Montarou: HE'S FREAKING OUT, I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

Rai Montarou: JES CRYIND AND SHAKING

Rai Montarou: PANIC ATTACK PANIC ATTACK PANIC ATTACK

Rai Montarou: SOME MAX WERID GUY IN A HOOD STOPPED SENA TO TALK TO HIM

Rai Montarou: AND THEN I GOT MUGGED AND HE AND SENA RAN ACROSS THE BRIDGE

Rai Montarou: PICKJ THE FUGG UP!

Rai Montarou: AND THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION AND WE GOT OUT MONEY BACK

Rai Montarou: BUT SENA FRWAKED OUT AND HE RAN BACK TO THE STORE

Rai Montarou: HE'S NOT RESPONDING PICK UP

Rai Montarou: HOOD GUY IS DONE TALKING TO THE POLICE, I CAN SEE HIM COMING HERE

"Fucking shit."

---

Raimon has, in the short time they've known each other, been under the impression that Sena is a naturally nice, awkward and careful guy who's scared of car accidents.

Raimon never assumed there would be a shocking reason for it. He's a little dense, he can admit that much. But now, seeing Sena, sitting on a curb stone behind a small convenience store, sweating and shaking and teeth chattering like he's simultaneously hot and freezing, a few more things make sense.

Sena's compassion is care towards people close to him and it's not without reason.

Sena's awkwardness is his inability to properly communicate what's on his mind and it's not without reason.

Sena's careful nature is an almost fever-inducing paranoia that is not without reason.

And Raimon felt like he saw a glimpse of the reason today. Cars. Something happened to Sena, something to do with cars.

And that's all Raimon can think of for now. For now. Because he's Sena's friend. Because he wants to be Sena's friend. Sena has already shown more sides of himself to Raimon than he's used to, even an idiot like him can tell.

Because Raimon knows that Sena needs to talk about it. He's seen it. The way Hiruma stared holes into Sena's head at practice, the way Kurita seemed to hover over Sena when the weather seems to cloud up and the way Mamori fussed over him.

Sena's a paranoid and scared person. He needed to talk to someone. Someone who he could trust not to say anything to anyone. Someone he can rely on. Someone who could understand that this is something Sena had kept boiling inside of him for a predominantly long time.

Raimon has always wanted to be a hero. But sometimes a hero is just someone you can rely on, even for a little bit. So he'll do it.

But he didn't know how to. Hiruma wasn't answering any calls and Raimon had all but given up on contacting him. He'd call his sister but he didn't have her number. He doesn't have the correct solution. Not in a way that could be an instant fix, but maybe that's too much to hope for right now.

So he does it the best way he knows how to. The Maximum Raimon Tarou way.

He sat down next to Sena, grasped his shoulders, turned him around and tried shaking him out of it. It doesn't work, if anything, Sena looks even more lost.

Crap, Raimon seriously doesn't know how to deal with a situation like this.

Suddenly hoodie guy come out of the corner, looking around before spotting Sena and freezing in his tracks.

Raimon looks back at the hoodie guy. He's as clueless as Raimon. Neither know what to do.

But luckily, or unluckily, hoodie guy knows where to start.

The guy ran into the alleyway, looking back and forth between Sena and Raimon, trying to grasp a hint on what happened.

"What... what happened?"

"I dunno, Sena's freaking out, hard, and I can't get him to say anything. Captain's not picking the phone up either."

The hoodie guy cautiously walked over to them and pressed the back of his hand to Sena's forehead and looked him over.

"I don't know what this is. A fever, maybe, i don't know but he's dehydrated. He needs some water." Sena's hooded friend said.

"You get some then." Raimom rebuked.

"I didn't take any money with me. I was only going for a quick run." The friend said in a regretting manner that showed that he was obviously beating himself up for not doing exactly that. A part of Raimon sympathised with him. Literally who would think that he'd get robbed in broad daylight? Or that you'd need spare cash to help calm down your friend who you ran into?

"Fine, I'll do it." Raimon conceded with a sour face. He doesn't like the idea of leaving Sena like that with someone he doesn't know. But judging by how easily Sena and he recognised each other on the street and that the guy was actually trying to help made it hard to directly hate it. "But if you make it worse-"

"I won't. I swear on it." The hoodie guy said and there's something in those blue eyes that shone with either determination or fierce regret. "I... I need to fix this in the first place."

"...Alright. But you'll pay if you do, Mr. Hoodie two shoes." Monta sassed back, taking the hooded guy's reaction at the nickname as a small win. He turned to quickly go to the store, not wanting to waste any time. "I'll be back in a minute."

He didn't notice how Sena's red eyes followed him until he walked out of his sight.

---

The entire morning has gone from regular to catastrophic in the matter of ten minutes and Shin knows with every fiber in his body that he's at fault.

Shin had come across Eyeshield 21 by chance but could still recognise him. How could he not? Eyeshield was a unique player in amefuto so one can't blame Shin for knowing his muscles and body type by memory.

He had been happy at first. He really was. He had expected to meet Eyeshield again in the fall tournament at the earliest and put himself a standard of getting stronger until then. But his mind almost always wandered back to the short runningback who had nearly surpassed him in speed.

Deep down, Shin had wanted to meet him outside the field. To see what he was like outside of the game. Would he still be the blood pumping monster player Shin had encountered or was such a trait reserved only for amefuto and he would be different? How would he look, without the visor hiding his face?

Shin got his answers but in an arguably awful way.

One thing lead to another and Shin ended up seeing Eyeshield in his full, unfiltered holy glory do parkour over and across the cars.

Hiruma Yoichi was right. Eyeshield's performance during the Oujo match was nothing compared to the near religious experience Shin felt when he saw the boy quite literally fly through the road.

The euphoria vanished in an instant as he saw Eyeshield's face when he grabbed the two offenders.

Eyeshield looked like he was about to hurt them. There was none of the joyful and crazed glint in his eyes or the manic yet loving smile full of teeth.

No, Eyeshield looked at Shin with respect and admiration, even if through an insane lense. But he looked at the two thieves like he was ready to perform a public execution.

Shin tried to snap Eyeshield out of whatever mist of rage he was in, only for the robbers to start crying. And while that did snap Eyeshield out of whatever haze he was in, it had also left him vulnerable.

He looked terrified. Those once orange and shimmering eyes were now a dark, murky red.

Shin could only let go the runningback as he watched him dissappear through the crowd of onlookers.

His words worried him. Shin could handle the police report but hearing about how the runningback swore he couldn't breathe? Shin had gotten it done in seven minutes or less and ran back to look for Eyeshield.

Which lead to him now trying to find a way to calm Eyeshield down from a panic attack. Or fever. Or heatstroke. He's not sure what this was.

He had sent Eyeshield's friend to get some water but it won't do them any good if Eyeshield is too out of it to even drink it.

So first things first, some form of closure. Eyeshield's hands were either shaking in front of him or trying to pull his hairs out. Shin took off his hoodie, not quite clean but not quite dirty either. He placed it over his head, wrapping as much of it as he could around the runningback's head.

Second, root back to the present. Shin genuinely had no idea what to do here. Everything he did was based on assumptions and things he's seen his classmates do. A familiar form of contact that would make the person focus back into what was happening.

Shin made a mockery of a traditional tackle around Eyeshield, squeezing him every few seconds. Eyeshield's hands stopped shaking and balled themselves up in his shirt. His teeth weren't chattering anymore but this was a significant improvement.

"Eyeshield. Eyeshield, listen to me, can you hear me?" Shin said as placed the side of his head next to Eyeshield's. Eyeshield tried to rasp out some form of response. "You don't have to say anything, just- give me a sign."

Eyeshield made two knocks against his chest. He'll take that as a yes.

"Good. Good, great. You're doing great. Focus on breathing. Steady your breathing, you're hyperventilating. If you continue to do so, you'll knock yourself unconscious." Shin said calmly.

"I can't- it's everywhere- get away-" Eyeshield rasped out, voice popping from how dry it was.

"Nobody is here. Nobody except me and you. I've got you. You're a runningback. I'm a lineman. I'll guard the line. Just focus on what you have to do. And that's breathing. I've got you." Shin repeated several times while giving a few assuring squeezes.

Eyeshield then tried to do just that. His breathing had steadied out, not by a lot but it steadied itself. That alone was good enough. Progress was good enough.

Eyeshield's friend, a short fellow in a red number 80 Jersey, ran back to see... Shin's not sure what he saw. Shin's hoodie was wrapped over Eyeshield's head like a protective blanket while the runningback was gripping his shirt like a lifeline. And Shin was all but smothering him, whispering reassurances and calming words into his ear.

Shin swore he saw a loading screen appear behind the friend's eyes as he basically digested the scene with two water bottles in hand and his phone vibrating in his pocket.

"Uhhh..." the friend said as he awkwardly stood there. He then must've realised something and placed the water bottles next to Shin and ran out, mouthing something along the lines of "I'll give you some privacy".

Okay... Odd but okay.

Once Eyeshield's breathing was acceptable and he made two affirmative smacks on Shin's shoulders, Shin let him go and reached for the water.

"Here. You're dehydrated." Shin said as he passed the water bottle to the player. He fumbled with the cap a bit but had ended up drinking the entire bottle down in one go. "Better?"

"Much better." Eyeshield finally rasped out and kept his breathing steady. "Thank you."

"Much obliged." Shin said as the atmosphere quickly turned awkward. "What... what happened that made you react that way?"

"I... I was not okay. I think I could've died back there." The last part had Shin on edge.

"What do you mean? Did one of the bikers have a weapon?" Shin asked. The police hadn't found a weapon on them but Shin wasn't sure if it had gotten destroyed with the motorcycles. Eyeshield had apprehended the actual bikers, so there's a high chance that he might have been threatened with it.

"No. No, no, not that. It's-" Eyeshield began, hands going up to rub at his face and let the hoodie fall off him as he sighed. "I'm- terrified of cars. I really don't like being near them. At all."

A sudden rock of guilt dropped on Shin.

"I really hate moving cars. I can stand being inside of one but outside? No. Just- no." Eyeshield finally finished.

"That's- I'm sorry. I didn't know." Shin said and Eyeshield responded with a miffled "t's fine". "But... it... wasn't what I was referring to. Why did you run away?"

"Huh?" Eyeshield said as he let his hands drop from his face and look at Shin. It's then when he realised that Eyeshield's eyes weren't orange or red. They were brown.

"Why did you run away back then? I can understand you threatening them, essentially, but why the sudden change in behavior?" Shin asked. He wanted to know why Eyeshield had suddenly sped off away from the scene. He partially thought that he was the reason.

"I- I think I'm a monster." Eyeshield finally said.

"...why?"

"I nearly killed him, Shin. I threatened to kill him over some stolen money. Over- over something so simple. It's not like me. I don't want it to be like me. I- I don't want to be a monster." Eyeshield wheezed out the last part.

"Why do you think you'd be a monster because of something like that?"

"Because i wanted to kill him! I actually wanted to kill him, for a moment! I- I don't want to feel like that! Not after-" Eyeshield's breath hitched with the promise of another wave of tears. "I don't want to do to them what happened to me."

Shin then got the whole picture. Fear of cars and car accidents set Eyeshield into panic. The fact that someone had directly targeted a friend of his and nearly did run over him and several others had sent him into a rampage. However, there's a clear difference.

"You're not a monster." Shin stated factually. Eyeshield opened his mouth, ready to rebuke anything before closing it, taking several breaths before sighing. Shin took this as a point to continue. "Your fear of cars does not enable you to be aggressive. Your fear and worry for the people around you did, however. You crossed a line and reacted violently but you did it on someone's behalf. Maybe... maybe your reaction could have used some work, but your emotions didn't make you monster."

"... Because I was afraid for Raimon?"

"Would you had been mad more for yourself?" Shin inquired and it seemed like Eyeshield had an epiphany. "No. You wouldn't. Is this is probably the first time you've felt like this?"

"Yeah."

"Then this time, you can't be told that you knew what you were doing. But next time, you'll do better. You'll be better." For yourself and for others, is what Shin wanted to say but he felt like he would've put his foot in his mouth that way. "Nobody got hurt this time and nobody has to get hurt next time."

"...I want to be better but I don't know how." Eyeshield admitted. His hands were rubbing his joints in circular motions. "Every time something good happens, something worse follows and I'm scared. I'm scared one day I'll be happy to the point of memory loss and then when I wake up something equally bad would happen. I'm paranoid but I don't know how to make it so that I'm less so."

"How do you know there's a connection?"

"I... don't know. But I also know. It's stupid but it doesn't go away. I don't know how to make it go away."

"Then get stronger."

"Huh?"

"Get stronger so that once you see the worse coming, you have the strength to stop it." Shin said wisely, eyes hard and staring into Eyeshield's. Eyeshield only seemed more confused. Shin turned his head to the side. "That's... all the advice I can give you. It's... all I have, really."

"It's... sound advice. I was gonna try and get stronger either way but... I never thought of it like that. I just thought that everything bad that happened was just- something i can't control. I never thought of stopping it. Just surviving until... nevermind."

Shin nodded and the conversation, once again, fell into an awkward silence.

"What's your favorite part?"

"Huh?"

"About the game? Mine is when you get a touchdown against a hard opponents like you. My first game was a mess actually. I didn' teven know how to hold the ball properly but I got us at great victory. For me, that was... that was something. I wanna feel something like that again. The feeling of something that came from that. Do you have one?"

"Mine is-" Shin began but he stopped after two words. He doesn't have a solid answer. "I... don't think I have one."

"I, uh, it doesn't have to be one specific moment. Just- a part that you like in the game. Like when the team switches to offense or something like that." Eyeshield said again, in an attempt to take Shin out of the suddenly cold feeling he's put himself into. "Shin?"

"There's... nothing that really comes to mind." Shin admits bluntly. It earned him a strange look from Eyeshield. Furrowed eyebrows over red eyes, a tilt of the head and a concerned frown. It almost looks cute, had it not been the fact that it was directed at him. It just made him feel guilty.

"Shin do you... even like amefuto?" Eyeshield asked in a small voice. "Why do you play American football?"

"Because." Shin can only answer. He's... not lying. Shin had dedicated almost all of his middle school years into American football. It's... only natural that he keeps doing it, right? He trains for football to become stronger in it. He does it because he can be perfect in it. So that must be the reason. To be above the human standard. "Because I want to become stronger in football."

"Because you like it, right?" Eyeshield asked. Shin didn't answer, he simply looked away. "Do you enjoy playing it?"

"I don't have to enjoy it." Shin said in a casual manner. It's true, for Shin, amefuto isn't necessarily something meant to be enjoyed. It might not even be enjoyable in the first place, with how many injuries come about in the professional league.

The near manic yet broken look Eyeshield gave him shatters whatever thoughts that could have come further. It's not a pitying look more so as it's a look Shin had never received out right. A look that shows that someone had failed someone.

Did Eyeshield feel like he failed Shin? Because Shin didn't enjoy football? Wait, maybe Shin's misunderstanding. If he were going by Eyeshield's previous statement, did that mean Shin indirectly say he didn't enjoy their match? Shin felt like he was kicked in the teeth.

"But i-" Before Shin could cover up his mistake, Eyeshield wrapped his arms around him, with his chin resting on his scalp and his chest pressed against Shin's face. The very chest that Shin had grabbed not even a full month ago and felt a heart beat against his hand.

Eyeshield was... warm. Very warm. Almost radiator level warm. Eyeshield was very warm and Shin could feel the small heart in his chest beat with vigor. His skinny biceps pressed the back of his head and neck while the triceps blocked his sides.

Shin had never been good with his emotions but the one he feels now is something he would want to feel again. And again. Multiple times. Maybe even on a regular basis.

Shin could confidently say he would like that a lot. He liked competing against Eyeshield and he could say he liked his hugs too. They felt comforting. Protective even. They made Shin feel wanted.

Wait, Shin realised, wasn't he supposed to hug back?

The soft feeling is suddenly replaced by dread. The incident where he had literally grabbed the runningback's organ haunted him many days after the match. It even affected his most recent match, much to his own displeasure. And Eyeshields comment on him being fragile didn't help.

He had asked Takami about ways on how to control his strength. It certainly wasn't for the purpose of hugging, but more so that he could actually function without breaking things.

"If you're trying to touch something and not break it, try to keep distance. Try to not touch it at all, just be gentle and sort of... envision the shape you wnat to put your hand in and hold it like that." Takami had said.

Alright, Shin could do that with his arms. Envision the shape and do it, trying to slowly minimise the area between them. Yeah, okay, he can do it.

Shin slowly raised his arms outward, paralel to each other so that Eyeshield's waist was in between them. Okay, great, good progress. He then slowly folded his elbows to make a square. Shin gently folded his hands to meet the shorter player's waist. Overall, Shin's arm muscles and hands were the only things touching and there was enough leeway so that Eyeshield could breathe.

Shin would consider that a job well done.

"Shin, are you hugging me?"

"Yes?"

"Oh, good. That's... that's good. Great even." Eyeshield breathed out, chin rubbing softly against his hair. "Shin, can I tell you something?"

"I... suppose."

"When I first started playing, I hated it. I really, really hated it. I hated it so much I asked why I was even playing it. Even now, I still... hate it a little bit. A good chunk but not as much. I don't think I could start liking it anytime soon. But I'm starting too. And I liked our game a lot. I hated it too but I liked it more than I hated it."

"I see."

"But... I thought you liked it too. I didn't think that you didn't like football either. I... I can't ask why you started or why you're still doing it but- I hope we can play again. And I hope I can make you happy playing football. I liked the match but knowing that you didn't like it, or that you didn't like playing at all just- it makes everything worse."

"Oh."

"I hate football but hate you not liking it more. I don't want the feeling to be one-sided. I don't want to be happy at someone else's expense. I don't want to you use you as a step for some self enlightenment." Eyeshield continued and Shin couldn't really stomach the misunderstanding. "I want to play football, knowing that the person I'm playing against is having just as much fun. I want you to be happy too."

'I want you to be happy too'. The sentence burned itself into Shin's mind, echoing like an opera singer's vibratto.

Shin had never outright had words like that told to him, much less so sincerely. It tightened his chest, burned his eyes and made his hands shake. And yet it was better than any other feeling Shin had felt in his entire amefuto career.

So he let himself go, just this once and fully wrapped his hands around Eyeshield's torso and let himself be lulled by Eyeshield's heartbeat.

He wants to happy as well.

"What the fuck happened here?!" A shrill voice echoed through the alley as the moment was ruined. Ah, Hiruma Yoichi was here. "Shrimp, who the hell are you hugging?"

Eyeshield unwrapped himself from Shin, just enough for the quarterback of Deimon to see his face and vice versa.

A good amount of sweat was on the blonde's forehead as he was huffing for air. Eyebrows laced with worry and and a form of controlled wrath melted into less worry and more controlled wrath.

Why would Hiruma Yoichi run all the way to-

Shin then remembered what transpired less than twenty minutes ago and how Eyeshield's friend had said something about someone not picking up the phone. That very friend was behind the corner from where the Deimon captain was standing, mouthing "I didn't think he'd get here so fast".

Ah, this is why.

"We're just hugging." Eyeshield offered the excuse.

"Then why was the monkey blowing up my phone less than twenty minutes ago about you having a panic attack, an explosion and some guy in a hoodie talking to you?" Shin averted his eyes in shame.

"We got mugged."

"By Shin?" Hiruma Yoichi asked with a downward tilt of his head.

"Shin helped us get our money back. We were mugged by bikers." Eyeshield explained.

"I know. The monkey told me. Now I specifically told you two to stay out of bullshit."

"You did."

"And what did you two do?" Hiruma asked with an edge in his voice. Eyeshield's eyes closed in a defeated sigh. "What did you do?"

"We got into bullshit."

"Exactly. Now you two are gonna grab the gear and haul it all the way back to school on foot as punishment." Hiruma Yoichi barked out.

"Wait. It's not his fault." Shin quickly defended the other in his arms. "Its... it's my fault. I caused this."

The atmosphere shifted. No longer was the April sun warm, no longer was the shade under the buildings cool. No, the warmth became a blistering heat and the cool shadows turned freezing.

And all this aura came from Hiruma Yoichi, who clicked a button on his gun. Eyeshield's breath hitched. There was a minute of silence where he and Hiruma Yoichi simply stared in each other's eyes, conviction meeting wrath.

"... Shrimp, go back to the school with the monkey and supplies. I need to exchange some words." The captain's words were cold, low and positively brimming with the promise violence.

"But-" Eyeshield began a meek defence, letting go of Shin and standing in front of him in a defensive manner.

"Sena." The captain bit out, gaze directed at Eyeshield. Ah. So Eyeshield's name was Sena. "Go. I'm just gonna talk with him."

Sena looked between his captain and Shin, who had stood up from his seat on the ground. Shin placed his hand on the runningback's shoulder, a solemn and determined gaze acting as nothing more than reassurances.

Sena inhaled shakily and walked forward, past his captain and disappeared behind the corner with his friend, after glancing back in worry.

Whispers, the ruffles of bags and the sound of footsteps faded out, leaving only Shin and Hiruma Yoichi to stare down each other.

"What did you do?" Hiruma Yoichi said, his voice so cold Shin nearly flinched from it. At a lack of response, Hiruma Yoichu pulled out his and pointed it at him.

"What. Did. You. Do?" Hiruma Yoichi said again, slower this time and Shin can feel the pure malice rolling off him.

"We ran into each other. His friend got mugged by bikers, i-" Shin said calmly but the last part of the sentence feels like it was stuck in his throat. He willed himself to say it. "I made him help me catch them by running trough traffic. I must've triggered some sort of reaction. It wasn't my intention."

Hiruma Yoichi took a deep breath, two more before pulling switching the safety on his gun. Whether it was on safety or not, Shin didn't know.

"I wish I could kill you. I wish I could shoot your brains out through this whole alleyway and leave you to rot." Hiruma Yoichi said with an almost impossible amount of malice. His green eyes almost shone with rage.

'I wish you did.' Shin thought to himself bitterly.

"I have a request." Shin bit out.

"You've got some balls-"

"I want to challenge Eyeshield on the field but I can't do that if he doesn't feel safe. Someone did this to him. There's no other way. It had to have come from somewhere, from someone." Shin said as he stared bitterly into Hiruma Yoichi's judgemental eyes. "I want to protect Sena from that. Not just as a lineman protects a runningback but as a friend. Please allow me to do so."

"You wanna be rivals on the field and allied off of it?" The quarterback asked, glaring daggers into Shin's very soul. But Shin didn't back down. He refused to do so. And the demonic human smiled at that. "Only you could think of such an ass backwards form. Welcome to the operation, Witness #1."

---

Monta: i tried to buy you and your boyfriend some time but Hiruma was having none of it.

Sena: me and my what?

Monta: it's ok i support you.