Chapter Sixty Six: A Little Idle Talk

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

Song Playing: The Beast by Nico Vega

The Confrontation Arc 1/3

Theme 45: Animal

Blue eyes blinked in honest confusion as Mamori ignored the stack of paperwork in front of her in favor of Hiruma's profile. The man had the gall to continue working as if he hadn't just suggested that she go home. As if being asked to leave wasn't mind blowing enough it was the fact that she was being told to leave early. Practice had only been over for an hour: there were tapes to watch, forms to sign, and schedules to make.

That was just the day to day stuff too.

She was just getting ready to open her mouth, in either protest or interrogation, when her brain brought several things to her attention. Mainly the crick in her neck, the chance at a hot shower and a nap before dinner. As much as her instincts were to fight him on this material possessions won her over.

It was without shame that she called out a hasty farewell as she all but flew out the door.

To his credit Hiruma kept right on working as if nothing had happened. He continued on his computer for another half hour after the Saikyoudai manager left before powering down and tidying up the clubroom. If Mamori had still been around she would have been the first to say that the only thing stranger that the blonde closing down hours before his typical check out time was the fact that he was cleaning. Not only after himself but after others. It was something he never did. Ever. To do so would be to show consideration for others and would defy the very core of his being.

Only today seemed to be full of these freak contradictions.

After he was done the room was cleaner than it had been in a while. Except it wasn't the homey sort of clean like when the manager straightened up but the sterilized sort of clean that occurs just before a particularly violent interrogation takes place.

It didn't help that he took the power seat at the end of the conference table. No guns, no gum, just one very intense young man with his hands neatly folded coming very close to eviscerating the front door with the weight of his stare alone. Any normal human being would have been quaking in their underpants upon walking into such a scene.

Only Kongo Agon had never been accused of being normal and his humanity was most certainly in question.

Instead of announcing his presence with a firm knock, he flung the door open with enough voice to ricochet off the wall and slam shut behind him. Not bothering to wipe his feet he strode in and took the first available chair. The field must have just been watered because the mud that coated his shoes was making a mess of the previously spotless table top. With his hands in his pockets and sunglasses perched at the edge of his nose, Agon couldn't have looked more condescending if he tried.

"Trash."

"Fucking dreads."

They stared at each other, unblinking, for an unnerving length of time.

They still hadn't eye broken contact or so much as twitched a lid when Argon tore through the silence. What he said wasn't really a question or a statement, but a snarl. An ugly sound accompanied by an equally ugly face, "What?"

"Stay away from Anezaki."

Oh. Oh. The sneer melted away into something worse. A smile of teeth and malice and challenge. It seemed the bottle blonde hack had gone soft, gotten himself a little girlfriend. No- that wasn't right. If their curvaceous manager was indeed dating this weak willed piece of garbage she wouldn't be able to hide it. He felt his grin curve wider, crinkling his eyes. A crush then. The so called Devil had a crush on the only female to show him a scrap of affection. Now wasn't that just adorable. He planted his feet on the floor, arms draped over his knees as his insides boiled with anticipation. Finally, some fun. "Or what?

Hiruma's unwavering glare seemed to reach down into the very core of his teammate and ruthlessly remove several of his major organs.

Agon felt a familiar thrill race through himself, setting every nerve aflame at such a fantastic response. He took back his initial conclusion. This wasn't going to be fun. This was going to be a burn the world down blood bath.

In a single fluid movement he was out of his seat and out the door. He didn't need to look back to know that the former Demon of Deimon was still watching him. He could practically hear the gears whirring at full speed planning, plotting, constructing the most thorough painful way to eviscerate him. He didn't need to look because he was doing the same thing. The only difference being he was going to win.

Time to set the world on fire.