Number Four: Scary Conversation, Shut My Eyes, Can't Find the Brake

Moto showed up the next day, still rubbing his neck oddly, but otherwise saying that he was fine. He said that he had gotten food poisoning, but Hiruma was still suspicious.

Hiruma wasn't about to say anything in front of anyone, though. That wasn't how he did things. If there was anything glaringly wrong, he tended to find out about it and then torture the person until they admitted it themselves. It was more fun that way.

Mamori stood in a corner of the weight room, watching Sena try to attempt 15 kg on the bench press. She usually made sure that no one killed themselves in the weight room (technically that was Hiruma's job as captain, but Hiruma came close to killing people every day…). Kurita was bench-pressing about 265 kg. Hiruma was doing push-ups near Sena, so he could yell at him at leisure. Moto was working with the rowing machine, and seemed to be in a bit of pain. He would continually stop to readjust his shirt or to work out a kink in his neck.

Hiruma glanced upon Moto when he was doing that once. He frowned and went back to yelling at Sena.

Mamori yelled at Hiruma to stop yelling at Sena before an electronic beep went off in her pocket. She looked at the blue stopwatch she had pulled out and pressed the large stop button.

"Time to pack it up, guys," Mamori told them. "We've been in here an hour. It's almost time for school."

Kurita, Moto, and Sena looked glad to get out of there. However, when they were leaving, Hiruma grabbed the back of Moto's shirt.

"I need to talk to you," Hiruma demanded brazenly, pulling him away.

Sena and Kurita, not wanting to get in the middle of one of Hiruma's torture sessions, gulped and left hurriedly. Hiruma waited for Kurita to walk out of the room before closing the door with a click. He proceeded to swoop down on Moto. Hiruma's glare was enough to send Moto over the edge.

"You know, if you had told me about this, I wouldn't have let you join the team in the first place," Hiruma snapped, startling Moto. He began to sweat.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Hiruma…" Moto stammered. Hiruma rolled his eyes and stuck his hand up the back of Moto's shirt, grabbing onto a strap that ran across the upper half of Moto's body. Moto looked at Hiruma uneasily, his face turning red.

"This. I'm talking about THIS," Hiruma stated rather indifferently, letting go of the strap harshly. Moto looked absolutely flustered.

"Well," Moto hesitated, "I'm sorry, but -?"

"Sorry?" Hiruma repeated, seemingly taken aback. "If your neck is out of whack, it's not your fault. But you won't be of much use to us if you have to leave because of it. I assume that the whole food poisoning thing was a lie?"

"Yeah," Moto nodded. "I…"

"Was getting a neck brace, I'm not an idiot," Hiruma finished for him. "So how long are you gonna have to wear it?"

"A while."

Moto didn't say anything for a long time, evidently embarrassed.

"Why are you just standing there?" Hiruma eventually asked.

"I didn't want to be a burden like this," Moto finally spat out, almost at a loss for words. "I want to play… but…"

Hiruma blinked before turning on his heel and walking out the door. "Just sort it out before tomorrow, all right?"

Hiruma walked out of the weight room before frowning, turning right and walking across the staff parking lot towards his homeroom.

"Damn it all… why me…?"

"Kiyoko, you look a bit… flustered," Umi-chan noted. Kiyoko snapped, looking back at Umi-chan and Mamori. They both looked confused by Kiyoko's behavior.

"Oh, it's nothing," Kiyoko told them. "Tea Ceremony is going to have a presentation this weekend. I'm nervous…"

Umi-chan sighed happily. "Oh, good. I'm glad. It's weird to see you so shaken."

Mamori grinned as well. "We'll definitely go."

Kiyoko tightened the green ribbon that adorned her short black hair. She fingered it gently before going back to her food.

"How's Sena, Mamori?" Kiyoko asked. Mamori seemed startled by the sudden question, but she smiled.

"He's doing good," Mamori told her, going a shade of pink. "I think that he enjoys the football team."

"Even with Hiruma on the team…?" Umi-chan asked warily.

"I think that Sena's gotten used to it," Mamori sighed. She waved the question away. Kiyoko smiled.

"Did anyone figure out who likes Hiruma yet?" Kiyoko inquired calmly. Umi-chan began to giggle, while Mamori shook her head.

"That girl is good at keeping her privacy, whoever it is," Mamori admitted.

"Well, wouldn't you keep that a secret if you liked him?" Umi-chan protested. Kiyoko and Mamori nodded emphatically.

"But I still don't understand WHY anyone would like him," Mamori wondered aloud. "He has no good qualities. He's a psycho…"

"They do say love is blind," Kiyoko offered. "Maybe the girl is a little love-struck and can't think straight."

"Or maybe she's mental," Mamori mused. "That would make sense."

"She could be a bit rebellious," Umi-chan suggested. "You know, wanting to break the yoke of parental expectation or something."

"I have no idea what you just said," Kiyoko admitted monotonously.

The bell rang. Kiyoko picked up her lunchbox and rewrapped it.

"I should get back to class," Kiyoko nodded. "The food was delicious, Mamori."

"Thanks," Mamori cooed. "Don't be late!"

Kiyoko exited classroom 2-3 and made her way down the stairs as a few boys made their way up. She put the lunchbox into her backpack and encountered a soda machine. She frowned, pulled a dollar out of her uniform pocket, and shoved it into the machine. She waited, and soon enough, she heard a mechanical click. The soda popped out the other end.

Kiyoko, glad that this machine wasn't nearly as broken-down as the one by the football field, took a deep drink of the Coke and walked down to her homeroom, 1-1.

A/N: Well, er… the story isn't quite over, actually. It's seven chapters long. We're on four. Just wanted to clear that up.

A/N 2: Am I the only one angry about the fact that Gorillaz's (far superior) single Feel Good Inc. lost Record of the Year at the Grammys to Boulevard of Broken Dreams (shutter)? I can't STAND BoBD. I would have been fine with Vertigo, or Hollaback Girl, but BoBD is the single most overly-hyped, overplayed piece of tripe ever. (Sorry if I offended anyone, but if there's one thing I can't STAND, it's politics interfering with art. Really.)

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Eyeshield 21. Or a coke machine, now that you mention it…