DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN EYESHIELD 21!
A:N: Prepare yourself. Mild lemon ahead. If you are not of age please don't read any further. Don't say I did not warn you.
She decided to stay inside one of the rooms that was supposed to be hers as some of her clothes and her other essentials were on the walk in closet and adjoining bathroom. She stayed the whole day in her room, not wanting to get even a glimpse of Hiruma, ignoring the tightness in her chest.
Damn you Hiruma.
Silent tears began to fall from her eyes as she relived the nightmare that happened a year after the shoot of her modeling career.
She had turned her condo apartment upside down as she looked for her necklace but she had yet to find it.
Where did I place it?
The last thing she remembered last night from the success of the fall fashion week was that it was clasped securely on her neck and when she came home its usual spot on her neck was empty. She had already called the events planner last night asking if any of her staff membersfound a missing necklace and if one came out to call her immediately. She cringed. Hiruma would kill her when they meet tomorrow only to find out that she lost it. She had to think of something to appease his impending wrath. She could already hear booming noises from her head.
A smile crossed her face when an idea came to mind.
The following night after, she debated what to wear and decided to just go for something casual. She doubted Hiruma would have blinked an eye no matter what she wore but there was no harm in trying to look pretty for her man.
Her man. Hiruma was hers.
She could not suppress a smile from forming her lips.
She chose to wear a skinny white jeans topped by a plain pink flowy halter top and cream wedges to match. It was simple yet classy.
She suggested they meet at the public football field near her place. She knew he would easily agree to it without hopefully knowing her cheesy reason for wanting to meet there – because it was in a football field where everything started and it would only seem fitting to commemorate their first year together in one.
Her heart sped when she saw the familiar back of Deimon's ex-quarterback.
'Youiichi?'
His back stiffened for a while before it went slack.
Her brows furrowed.
'Kekeke. Think I wouldn't know why you wanted to meet here.'
She blushed but mentally cringed as she awaited his ribbing.
None came.
"Youiichi?' she asked in confusion. He was in an odd mood. Normally he would have taken that as an invitation to tease her until she was red in the face or until she'd be tempted to whack his head with a nearby broom.
'Throw it away.' He said simply.
'Throw what away? It's rude to talk to people with your back on them, Youiichi.'
He made no action to face her.
Growing out of patience, she moved to stand in front of him with her hands resting on each side of her hips.
Her brows furrowed further when she saw his face void of emotions.
'Throw what away?' she repeated.
'On this damn night, you are no longer fucking bound to me.'
She was silent for a second, contemplating his words. She felt the sudden tightness of her chest when realization dawned on her.
Around fucking time.
'Dddddddid I do anything wrong?' Her voice shook.
His boundless eyes landed of her neck.
Her gaze followed his. 'I lost it. Know that I did not mean to lose it... Are you mad because of that? I tried looking for it yesterday but no one found it. I could not find it. That's why...' She explained imploringly.
He shrugged, popping his gum. 'A fucking sign.'
'You don't believe in signs.' She looked at him closely, dropping her hands from her waist.
'I only fucking came to deliver my damn message.'
In their year apart, Hiruma would call her when he needed her to analyze some plays for him. At first it annoyed the hell out of her thinking he only called her to make her work when she was not his manager anymore, which she never failed to remind him. But he would just cackle then her doorbell would ring and every time she opened it fresh creampuffs would be in her doorstep. Her anger at his injustice would disappear then she would smile like a loony before thanking him over the phone for being so thoughtful but he'd say it meant nothing more but a bribe. Of course, she would not believe him but never voiced it out. Somehow she figured he missed her more than he let on. The work he gave her was always already half way done.
So why...when did things start to fall apart?
Everything was perfect so why did he suddenly wanted to end everything?
'Is there someone else?'
She held her breath as she waited for his answer.
'Fuck no.'
'Then why?'
'Eat those damn creampuffs. You're looking too fucking thin.'
Endless tears blurred her vision as she watched him slowly walk away from her. In his usual pace. She wanted to run after him but for what purpose? To beg him? Hiruma already made up his mind and when the devil does no one can sway him to do otherwise apparently even her.
She stayed rooted in her place, silently tormenting herself by watching his back slowly disappear from her view. She could hear her heart cracking from each step he took away from her until nothing was left but tiny pieces of her once whole heart.
I love you.
Her right hand instinctively went to touch the left side of her waist up to the side of her ribcage and stopped just below the side of her left breast. Unsatisfied she pulled her sundress off and positioned herself in front of the full length mirror. Staying on her side, she once again faced what she had once lost and never found, the football necklace he gave her. The mark was intricately inked on her side, the same exact replica from its color to every little detail. It was supposed to be a reminder of their promise to each other, their love for each other, and as an apology for losing the necklace but now it was a reminder of empty promises, broken hope, and a shattered heart. She should have had it removed after that fateful night when her heart shattered into tiny pieces but she was a sucker for punishment, parting with it seemed to shatter her heart more when removing it should have helped restore it. The ink remained but he was forever lost to her.
0000000000
For the past two days they saw little of each other, falling into a silent agreement to stay out of each other's way. When Hiruma was outside of his room, Mamori stayed inside hers. When Mamori cooked, Hiruma was nowhere in sight but she did leave him food to eat and made him coffee. She was not completely heartless. Surprisingly so was Hiruma, he never left any dirty dishes on the sink.
But on the third night Mamori was already losing her mind with nothing to do. Her back already ached from lying in bed for two straight days. She looked at the infinity pool longingly.
No harm swimming outside. She doubted he was currently lounging at one of the pool loungers. Hiruma and the pool just don't add up.
She put on a modest two piece white bikini and completed the look with a black sarong.
She went down the steps from her balcony as it had a quick access to the pool. Once down, she looked around to verify if indeed Hiruma was nowhere in sight. Seemingly satisfied with her appraisal, she removed her cover and dived into the pool and did a few strokes.
After an hour of swimming, she decided to rest by staying afloat in the water while paddling her feet. Feeling a steady gaze on her, she looked at her side and choked water when she met steady blue eyes.
She tried to calm herself as she slowly made her way to the steps, noting that his gaze seemed to follow her every movement.
Breathe Mamori. Breathe.
Once she was out of the water, she steadied her nerves and walked normally to her towel to dry herself, ignoring the furious drumming of her heart. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him move. She thought he was moving back inside the house so she closed her eyes for a second.
Her towel was abruptly taken away from her.
She gasped and opened her eyes, 'What the hell.'
In any other day, he would have taunted her for swearing but tonight all he needed was one answer.
He gently traced the outline of her tattoo.
Oh hell, she forgot about her tattoo.
She stepped away from him and quickly wrapped her sarong to cover her exposed body.
'Fuck. Why?'
She chose not to answer and quickly headed to the stairs to escape. She was about to close the French doors from her balcony when Hiruma gently pushed her aside and closed the doors himself, effectively locking them in her massive room. He stalked her until she was trapped between the wall and his body.
Her heart felt like it was doing a thousand somersaults. Her eyes stayed on his chest then at her feet. His searing gaze bored a hole in her head.
'Fuck if you think I'm leaving without an answer.'
So be it.
He tilted her chin up meeting her gaze, 'Fucking talk or I'll kiss you.'
Caught between not wanting to talk and wanting to feel him, Mamori crossed the little distance between them and kissed him. She mentally patted her back for catching him off guard but Hiruma refused to be beaten by deepening the kiss. His wondering tongue probed inside her mouth dueling with hers.
Soon they were tearing each other's clothes until skin touched skin. Their hands made their own exploration – touching, groping, caressing.
Logic and reason had no place here.
His lips trailed kisses down her neck until it reached her pink bud and sucked on it. She moaned arching her back, shoving her breast closer to his face while his hand pinched the other to harden more. Her hand trailed down his body until it reached his shaft and gripped it. She massaged the tip with her thumb and spread his precum all over his rigid cock.
He gave one hard suck before he released her nipple and carried her to the bed. His lust filled eyes drank her in, lingering longer in her tattoo before he dipped down to taste her sweetness.
'Ahhhhh. Hiruma-kun.' She moaned.
Her hands gripped his hair tighter as he nibbled her clit and made love to her with his tongue and fingers.
'Fuck you taste so damn good.'
Her hips bucked wildly, his fingers pumping her pussy.
'Please… I need you now.'
On the brink of madness, he positioned himself above her then entered her in one fluid stroke. He pumped in and out. Faster. Harder. Unstopping. Unrelenting.
'Ahhhhhh. Youiichi.'
'Fuck. Mamori.'
He exploded inside her, delirious from their climax.
When their breaths evened out, Mamori whispered then closed her eyes, 'I love you Youiichi.'
'I fucking love you too.'
000000000000
'This is our turf boy. Go find yourself another dumpster.'
'Go fuck yourself.' His bleached blond hair glossed in the night sky as he pointed his AK-47 to the five surly men. He then gunned each one of them down with a rubber bullet to the head.
Fuckers.
He then continued to rummage through the dumpster - digging, unearthing god knows what.
Shit. Where the fuck is it.
He then felt a round object from the piles of garbage he tuck his hand to.
Fucking finally.
'Kekeke. Fucking found you.'
He raised the necklace to the sky.
The devil always keeps his contracts but sometimes he just has to mislead the person into thinking otherwise.
He scowled when he remembered Mamori crying and hurting. It fucking broke him too but he had no choice. The woman was trying to kill herself from juggling her career and her personal life. She was losing too much weight from trying to be a superwoman when she was only Mamori. Did she not know how fragile she was? He even asked her to review plays for him so she will damn well get fed up with him and tell him to take his plays to hell. But no, she just had to be his perfect girlfriend. His angel always wanting to save his ass. Damn her for being her. So he made a choice to leave her to her bearings for a few more years until such time she could take on to be fully his without any disruptions and without jeopardizing her well-being in the process but even the devil's best laid out plan can have setbacks. Because only after a month without her and he was already going insane. He was completely addicted to her. She made him into a junkie. A needy bastard craving for a sniff if only for a second. Fuck his life. He was going after her and if he needed to personally shove food into her mouth then so be it
He stopped dead on his tracks when he saw Mamori sitting on her bed across her open balcony, naked from the waist up with only a towel covering her front and a man hovering on her side. Her eyes were closed.
Fuck.
His brain stopped working. The clenching in his heart was a familiar occurrence for the past month that he did not have her but today the pain was unbelievably unbearable even for him.
Only a month and she has already replaced him.
Fuck.
He moved away from his window. He purchased this unit yesterday so that he could watch her nearby and he did not want any fucker getting an eyeful. Ironically, he got an eyeful.
He came back to Japan that night, throwing his fucking heart away.
Mamori stirred in her sleep. Hiruma tightened his hold on her, absent mindedly caressing her tattoo.
Fuck.
He made a mess of things.
Fuck.
His jealousy got the better of him without fucking thinking. Without fucking questioning. With fucking asking her.
Damn it.
He will fix this.
Fuck.
He would not be reasonable enough to let her go this time.
They will talk.
A rare smile formed his lips.
She was his.
Mine.