Title: Lesson 8: Heartsick (Points of View)

Characters: Hiruma/Mamori

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

His face was blank and uncaring as he handed her the envelope. She knew what it was without him saying it, and yet she still needed to say the words to make it real in her mind, because she was in total disbelief and shock. How could he be so insensitive? How could he just calmly wait for this to happen? She was determined that she would have no part in it. She would not sit by on the sidelines watching and simply waiting for the moment he would be crushed by Gaou. He was behaving as if he had seen the future, seen it happen already, and now the only thing left to do was to plan their strategy of what to do when it did. Well, she showed him exactly what she thought of that plan as she tore up the envelope in his face and tossed the pieces aside. She was not going to be his accomplice in this. She was not going to let it happen as long as she could breathe.

That was the point though, she couldn't breathe. As she ran to the nearest girl's bathroom, and shut herself away into a stall, she could feel her chest tightening under the weight of what it all meant. The tears came, and her chest heaved with every ragged sob, but the release of emotion didn't make it any easier for her to breathe as she sat there on the closed toilet seat with her arms wrapped around her body in an attempt to console herself. After a few minutes, Suzuna found her and began asking if she was alright through the closed bathroom stall door. Mamori quickly shut off the tears and pretended as best as she could that everything was fine as she emerged from the stall, splashed water on her face, and dodged any more of the cheerleader's questions. She didn't have the patience to deal with Suzuna in that moment. Not when the man she loved was not only in danger of being seriously injured, but actually counting on it happening.

Putting on the act of calmness had begun to fuel anger deep inside her as she made her way to the clubhouse. She passed the field, and saw out of the corner of her eye the Deimon players pause as their stares followed her to the clubhouse door. She expected Hiruma to be sitting there with his legs propped up on the table waiting for her. With the way the team was watching her steady march to the door, she expected a fight to be waiting for her on the other side of it, and she was prepared. It was the perfect place to yell and scream at him all she wanted; to shake some sense into that tall lanky body of his. With a swing of the door, all the fight left her body as she looked inside, and found that there was no one there. Where had he gone off to? What was he doing? The team had already begun practice with their leader nowhere to be found. Maybe that was why all eyes were on her.

She walked in and let the door swing close behind her. Collapsing into the nearest chair she let out at long sigh as hot fresh tears began to sting her eyes, and threaten to trickle down her cheeks. It was a vicious cycle she was doomed to repeat, and here she had thought that everything was alright, that they had made-up in the only way that the two of them knew how. Her body shook as she sobbed with the new tears flowing freely down her cheeks. He was always trying to find new ways to humiliate or exploit her. Somehow, that vicious streak in him had become a part of his charm, and a part of her unfathomable attraction to him. Somehow, she knew she wouldn't have him any other way. It was the times when he was careful and unguarded that bothered her the most. This had now become one of those times, and her faith that was restored just a day or so ago had now been shaken to the core. Sitting there alone in the clubhouse made her feel abandoned and utterly helpless.

He realized that she could be completely dense sometimes, but this had been the height of stupidity on her part. How could she just go and do that? How could she make such a showy display of ripping up those plans right in front of his fucking face with all the fucking brats looking on? He had let her get way out of hand, and now she was forcing him to do something else to rein her in. He pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it came to him. There was no need to punish himself as well as her; at least not at this moment. There were still other tactics he could explore to bring the woman he loved under his complete control. Things were not that far gone, not just yet. He solemnly picked up the torn pieces of the envelope, and stuffed them in the back pocket of his uniform pants. Then he grabbed his stuff, and began to make his way out to the field for practice. Right before he emerged out of the tunnel and on to the field, he decided to turn around and take a detour.

With his machine gun propped on one shoulder, and his gym bag slung over the other, Hiruma stood on the roof and calmly watched as his players took to the practice field. It wasn't easy for him. It had never been easy for him. He hated defeat, but he always believed that there was data to be gathered in defeat. In a match between him and Gaou he would certainly be defeated. Yet in that defeat there was something he needed to learn. Something he needed to know. This team he had so haphazardly put together, could it survive without him? What would happen to their dream of football once he was gone? He had known for a while, that the dream that had begun with three had now spread to the entire team. Even though he ruled his team with fear and grit, he had also given them hope, and heart. With him out of the picture, would they just let the dream fade away? Was he the only thing that was holding his ramshackle of a team together?

He couldn't let it be just that, and he needed to know if they were stronger than what they appeared to be on the outside. That fucking eyebrows was banking on the fact that if he destroyed the head then the body would fall, and Hiruma wanted to see that if the head was removed would another one grow in its place. He had put a lot of time and a lot of energy in building a football team for Deimon, and now it had become more than just a dream of winning the Christmas Bowl. It had become about what he would leave behind once he was gone. This was his last year; his last chance to make it, but it wasn't all of theirs. He wanted to know what footprint, what wound, what scar would show that he was there. He had been alone for much of his life, and he had been fine with that. Now, things had changed within him, and all he could think about was what he would leave behind. What would be his legacy? Deimon football had to survive beyond him.

He looked down and saw Mamori's tiny figure heading toward the clubhouse. Deimon football had to survive beyond her as well, and she had to realize that. The game was bigger that the two of them and the team mattered more. He made his way down from the roof and towards the clubhouse. His head down and focused on his path, he paid little attention to his players even though he could feel their eyes on him. They were expecting a showdown just as much as he was, but he didn't care. He knew what was right, and she was just going to have to live with it. Or else he was going to have to use that ultimate strategy; the one plan he hoped he would never have to use. With his hand on the doorknob he paused as he heard her sobs on the other side of the door. His thoughts carried him back to the pieces of the envelope waiting in his back pocket as he flung open the clubhouse door.

Their eyes locked on each other for an instant. They said nothing and made no sudden moves as if frozen in time. He watched a tear trail its way down her cheek from across the room, and she saw the corner of his mouth twitch downward slightly masking the pain he felt at seeing her cry. He kicked the door shut, and reached into his back pocket, pulling out the pieces of the ripped up envelope and tossing them towards where she sat. They continued to stare at each other wordlessly. Their eyes never leaving the other's as the pieces of paper quietly floated down to the floor.

"Tape them up," he ground out lowly through his clenched razor sharp teeth.

"What?" She blinked up at him, not fully comprehending what he meant, because in her mind she had expected him to say something else, and that menacing thought was still replaying itself loudly in her ears.

He had already turned around to go back out the door, but he paused for a moment to toss over his shoulder, "I don't care how you do it, but you better put the fucking pieces back together again. Do you understand?" The tone of his voice made her shiver. It was commanding, authoritative, and so very cold. He had been the same way when she had ran after him that day he cut Yukimitsu from the team. His tone was so matter of fact and without feeling that she understood completely, and now she was mentally kicking herself because she had missed it earlier. If she hadn't been so blind with concern, she would have gotten what he meant immediately by giving her that envelope, but she had let her feelings for him get in the way. The team was bigger than the both of them.

She watched him walk out the door before she bent down and began picking the pieces of paper up off the floor. She wiped the tears from her raw eyes and her stained cheeks as she methodically laid the pieces out on the table. Mamori finally understood what needed to be done, and what her place in all of this was. There was no way for her to stop what was about to happen, and she didn't believe that there ever was. All she could do was hope that they all would survive this, because they had to. If their dream died so easily then was it really worth all the effort they put into it in the first place? It had never been about saving him, and it had always been about saving the team. She lined up the pieces of the envelope and the letter that had been inside. She turned the paper over because she didn't want to read the words. She didn't have to because she instinctively knew what it would say, but reading the words would just make it more real, and right now she just wanted to pretend it was just a dream.