Chapter Eighty Seven: A Hollow Victory

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

Song Playing: Disenchanted by My Chemical Romance

A Dishonest Friend Arc 2/2

Theme 72: Slow

Hiruma had known about Higurashi Souta since the very first art exhibit outing but had ignored him for the most part. It wasn't unusual for Anezaki to make friends and since it didn't affect her football duties he left well enough alone. He probably would have continued to leave it alone if the feelings hadn't developed.

She thought she was hiding her crush on her classmate: which she was, just not well, at least not from him. He knew all her tells and had known immediately that what she feeling wasn't strictly platonic.

Still that was fine. If it had stopped there Higurashi Souta would have stayed more or less under his radar.

But then the boy had made the mistake of starting to reciprocate the feelings.

The information relayed to him by his intricate spy network depicted stolen side glances, unnecessary touching, and violations of personal space. All these little details led to one solid outcome. Higurashi Souta was going to ask her out.

And that just wouldn't do.

Practically speaking there was no reason a relationship between this Higurashi boy and Anezaki should bother him. The fucking manager had already proven to be a master multitasker who wouldn't shirk her duties because a boyfriend was suddenly in the picture. As her teammate and friends he should have been fine with this potential development. Happy, even, because he knew it would make her happy.

Instead he felt a churning, clutching feeling inside himself and he knew that the only way to get rid of it was shove this Higurashi kid back into the friend zone and make sure he stayed there. The hitch was his normal methods were useless. The brat was as clean as they came. He'd tripled checked all his data on him and they all pointed to the undeniable fact that Higurashi Souta was a kind, considerate, well-mannered young man who had nothing that he could be bribed or blackmailed with.

Which meant he had to do things the messy way.

Timing was critical. Fortunately for him timing had always been a strong suite of his. With a bag full of sickeningly sweet treats clenched in his hand, he swaggered in and promptly laid siege to their budding romance.

With a few well-placed jabs and jokes he had effectively stopped the kid from seeing her as a lovely young lady. Now he saw her as they all saw her. The kind, slightly over-bearing, loyal friend with a massive sweet tooth. As the brat walked away, he was feeling pretty smug about the whole thing. There was a twinge of guilt in there for using some of her more embarrassing qualities but, as they say, no harm no foul.

Then he looked up.

The sight before him completely wiped out any pride he had felt about the whole scenario. As she haphazardly shoved her things into her bag, he had a front row seat to the way humiliation had completely taken control. He didn't recognize the broken woman before him. She was actually sobbing painfully and his heart squeezed in agony, knowing he had caused it.

It turned out he had grossly miscalculated this one and there was a shit ton of harm done that he felt instantly foul about.

There were several emotions running across her features but there was one that he couldn't place. There was something heavy and full of hurt that ran deeper than the other feelings. It tugged at the back of his mind, taunting him. She met his eyes for a brief moment and the word clicked into place.

Betrayed.

His churning insides suddenly got worse. It was as if his gut was a bottomless pit that was trying to fill itself with guilt. He couldn't ever remember feeling this horrible, and his memory was extensive. He may have won the battle but it sure as hell felt like he had just lost the war.

As he said her name his voice was hushed and he found he couldn't put the force he wanted to behind it to make it any louder. At the sound of her name she had visibly flinched, completely ditched trying to zip up her bag, and had ran from the room like he was throwing things at her.

She hadn't even bothered with the cream puffs. In the back of his mind he almost wished she had thrown them at his head or smashed them. Anything to bring back the anger. Her fury he could deal with, betrayal had his gears whirring with nothing to show for it. This left him all alone wondering what the hell he had been thinking.

That was almost a week ago. Since then she had ignored him, not avoided him but completely outright acted like he didn't existed. She had attended every class, every practice, every game, and he felt like a ghost. Briefly he thought back to Ishimaru Tetsuo from high school and wondered if this is what that shmuck felt like all the time. The only time she had acknowledge his existence was early into day two when he had grabbed her arm in a vain attempt to get her to look at him and talk. She had jerked her arm back so fast and recklessly he was sure that there were bruises. No words were exchanged but the hard unforgiving stare she had given him before pointedly leaving had prevented him from trying anything else.

So he stewed, in his own guilt with absolutely no idea how to fix the sick feeling in his gut that said he may have screwed this one beyond repair. He had heard of people having butterflies in their stomach. He envied those people. He'd kill to have a belly full of butterflies.

Instead he had slugs.

There was no fluttering, just a slimy cold feeling coating his insides. Like there was a horde of slugs inching their way around his internal organs, up his esophagus, and coming to rest at the back of his throat. Slowly suffocating him, making him sick and heavy and slow. If this was what guilt felt like then the universe could shove it where the sun don't shine because it was absolutely awful.

The longer this refusal to acknowledge his very existence went on the worse his insides churned with the thought that he had actually broken their friendship beyond repair. There was only one thing he could think of that might work but he didn't want to do it.

He really really didn't want to it.

However, by day eight, he concluded there was no other choice. It was either execute the only resource he had to fix this or lose her completely. And there was no way he was going to allow that to happen.

With a heavy heart and hand he started dialing numbers.

Truth be told Mamori hadn't planned to hold her grudge for so long but she was just so angry. Angry, humiliated, and hurt that he would ever think it was okay to barge in like a train wreck and make her feel inferior in front of the one boy she wanted to impress. So instead of talking to him about his feelings like a well-adjusted individual she ignored him. No eye contact, no words exchanged, no indication that he even existed nevermind being directly next to her.

She hadn't known that she could hold on to such ugly feelings and, although she didn't like the way it made her feel, she just couldn't find it in herself to forgive him. Not yet, maybe not ever.

Especially since he hadn't made one single solitary effort to apologize or explain himself. There had been a moment when he had cornered her, taking hold of her arm but she had wretched that back so fast she was honestly surprised she hadn't hurt herself. His actions weren't that of a remorseful friend but of a bully trying to get his way. She had never liked bullies, never stood for them, and she wasn't about to start now. So she pinned him with her most writhing stare before walking away.

Opening the door to her dorm, she slipped off her shoes in the entryway, and padded into her bedroom to change. Only to come up short at the sight of the most elegant dress she had ever seen draped across her bed. Any other week this would have made her suspicious, if a little curious. Now it just made her angry.

Storming over she ripped open the card with her name on it. Surprise, surprise, Hiruma's chicken scratch was all over it asking her to meet him at nine. A car would pick her up and he would be providing explanations over dinner.

She was stunned to find her first reaction was not to comply but to toss the dress, with what appeared to be the accompanying jewelry, into the garbage because like hell she was going to do anything he wanted. It took her nearly ten minutes to calm down enough to have rational thought. She didn't care about the dress, or the jewelry, or the fancy dinner. She wanted explanations, and the biggest most since apology that has ever been given in the history of time or so help her there was no way they were going to recover from this.

Tossing the card in the bin, she marched into her bathroom and took the most determined shower of her life. By the end she was sure she had effectively scrubbed off the top layer of her skin. Carefully, she put her hair in the simplest up-sweep that she knew and got dressed.

It was when she caught a look at herself in the mirror that she felt her resolve waver. Hiruma maybe a right bastard but goodness did her knew her well. Taking in everything from the dress to the earrings to the necklace she felt herself take a sharp breath. She was stunning. She looked- she looked-

She looked like Audrey Hepburn.

Once that thought entered her mind she forced herself to re-focus. Hiruma was a master manipulator and she wouldn't let him get in her head. The jerk knew how much she admired the older actress and was using it to gain an advantage. Well, not tonight. Tonight she was unyielding.

She slammed the front door behind her.

Full of righteous fury, Mamori sat at the intimate table in the upscale restaurant waiting for Hiruma to show his sorry ass. Her scowl was firmly in place when she felt a presence behind her. Turning, her expression blossomed into surprise at the sight of Higurashi Souta. He was handsomely dressed in a suit, his eyes as kind as ever and a smile hovering at the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry I'm late." He shuffled into the seat across from her. "I was so nervous I forgot my wallet at home so the driver had to turn around." Here he swallowed. "You look beautiful."

Instantly she felt her face flush in pleasure.

"Thank you." Even as she felt delight warming her from the inside out, there was a slimy snake of doubt that she couldn't ignore. "What brings you here?"

Her question brought out the redness in his cheeks and his ears and a nervous confusion in his voice. "I don't know if you remember but I kind of asked you out to dinner before your friend showed up but you've been avoiding me. Then he called me up today and explained he had some connections is I was still interested. I guess he felt bad for interrupting us. Didn't he tell you any of this?"

No he did not.

"I'm sure it just slipped his mind." She felt her heart thundering in her chest. "Could you excuse me for just a moment?"

He gave her a quick nod of his head. "Sure."

"Thank you." Standing, she grabbed her purse and gave him a smile. "I'll be right back."

It took her few minutes but she managed to find an out of the way corner. Digging her phone from the deep reaches of her handbag, she scrolled through her contacts before landing on one particular name. Hesitating for only a moment she typed out a quick message of thanks before pointedly silencing then powering off her phone. Feeling at ease for the first time in over a week, she made her way back to her table.

Upon receiving her text, Hiruma allowed himself a smile that was also a grimace. He found that his stomach and heart still hurt but they weren't burdened with the weight of shame. Instead he found himself aching with change and the knowledge that things would be different between the two of them from this point on.