Chapter Twenty Four: Simplistic Intimacy

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21. Special thanks to Yue-neko who inspired this.

Song Playing: One Last Breath

Theme 38: Touch

Hiruma was not a physical kind of guy.

He didn't shake hands. He didn't give pats on backs. He would give the occasional kick in the rear and surprise kidnapping which forced contact but that was as far as his expected physical connections went. There was the one rare moment where he had placed his hand over their manager's mouth to keep her from talking but that was as close as he was willing to get to touching someone that didn't involve tackles.

It worked well for him.

Mamori was a hands on kind of girl.

She gave out hugs. She linked hands. She couldn't turn up the oppertunity to offer a comforting embrace, to award a job well done with a simple tap on the arm, to grab shoulders and shake the person with excited relief. It went against her naturaly nurturing personality to hold back and not fuss over others. It was the way she expressed herself while including others.

It was how she worked.

So, when they first started dating it proved quite an interesting point: this issue of touching.

It was something she hadn't even noticed for the first few months. After all she was busy with it being their last year at Deimon. In fact it was brought to her attention from an outside source. One of her friends had asked how their current romantic relationship was any different from their previous professional one. Her first instinctual response was to insist that there was a difference but then she was asked what that difference was.

After an awkward pause she stated that they kissed now.

Looking back on it her own words sounded rather weak but it had gotten her thinking. Thinking about what normal couples did and what they did. Normal couples held hands, linked arms, hugged, and kissed so there was barely a sliver of light between them... Mamori quickly shook that mental image out of head as she continued on with her original train of thought.

Though thinking about it now even their kisses didn't involve much contact. Not to say that they weren't passionate, because they were. It's just that while their lips were completely pressed together their bodies were far enough apart that a kid running down the street could duck between them and get away unscathed. It also seemed that all their kisses took place near a building because his arms were always leaning against the wall on either side of her head but never touching. Her hands eventually found their way to his hair or chest but it was she who reached out. Never him.

She knew they weren't a conventional high school couple. Their relationship was in no way 'normal' or healthy as one of her friends pointed out.

She readily accpted this, relished it really. She didn't want to be one of those clinging couples that spent every possible moment together. Nor did she want to be that constantly fighting couple that were on and off again more times than a light switch. Actually she enjoyed the place they were at, where they still butted heads but at the same time reaching a mutural understanding.

Still... a little bit of physical affection was wanted and needed if they had any hope of making it.

So she learned if she wanted to hold hands or link arms when walking down the street then she couldn't wait around for him to read her mind, she had to take charge. And take charge she did. She was nervous at first. What if he objected? What if he thought she was getting too clingy? Worse yet, what if he rejected her touch? She wasn't sure if she was strong enough to handle that blatant of a rejection.

In the end all her worrying had been for not. When she had cautiously reached out and grabbed his hand while they were walking around downtown he had merely given her a curious side glance before returning his attention to the many shop windows. She had to repress the urge to sigh in relief.

Over a course of time these sort of simple gestures became more frequent, natural, almost welcomed. If she saw something special in the window of a department store she would grab hold of his hand and drag him in with her. When she was feeling cold she'd link arms with him and walk a little closer. Once she made the first move he didn't hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulder or waist or hold her hand back.

He was willing to participate in the more tender shows of affection, he just wouldn't initiate it.

It wasn't until they had their first fight, their first real fight as a couple that he realized how accustomed he had become to those little touches.

They had always fought over a wide range of things but nothing anyone, including them took to seriously. But something was different about this one. For one thing no one but them knew what it was about, which was strange in itself. When they fought everyone in a three block radius knew what they were fighting about. For another neither of them would explain to anyone else what was going on. Normally you couldn't get them to stop their rants about insufferable quarterbacks and whiney managers.

But then came the final blow, which went unknown to everyone except them. They had stopped touching.

Well technically she was the only one who had stopped because he had never started to begin with, excluding the kisses he started. They still talked, though yelled was probably a better word, on a daily basis. They didn't avoid each other like other couples did when they argued. In fact they seemed unable to stay out of each other's sight in an effort to win at whatever weird arguement game they where playing.

It took a week for them to patch things up to the point where they could officially say that they weren't fighting.

Then it was like nothing had ever happened.

Another three days came and went, things were back to normal. They had resumed their routine of kisses without bodily contact and their walks downtown. What hadn't resumed were the casual touches that she used to bestow upon him. It was something that she hadn't really thought about or noticed. In fact it was actually brought to her attention by Hiruma, of all people.

Ironically enough they were walking around downtown side by side on a warm Sunday afternoon when she felt something brush against her hand. Ignoring it as an accidentally bump she continued on admiring the day as if she hadn't noticed. Until she felt the same something tap the back of her hand but when she looked there was nothing there and he was staring off to the side. A bit suspicious but not worried enough to bring it up she turned her attention to her left to admire the clothing in the storefront. Not a minute later that something grazed her hand once again.

This time she took his larger hand in her own.

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