Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21

Author's note: Skipping back a bit to very early days...

Short Pass: Cabinet

"If you get snot on me, I'll kill you."

"This is," Hiruma snarled, "is all your fault, fucking manager."

"It is not!" Mamori protested. "And I told you, don't call me that!"

"You're the one who had to go and fucking clean everything!"

"You couldn't even see the floor! How on earth did you work in here before?"

"Pretty damn fine, fucking manager!"

"I have a name!"

When Anezaki Mamori demanded to join the Devil Bats, ostensibly to protect Sena from him, Hiruma Yoichi had been only too happy to let her. Free work was free work, even from Miss Goody-Two-Shoes. He was quickly revising that opinion, though, as Miss Goody-Two-Shoes also turned out to be Miss Annoying-Morality, Miss Argue-with-Everything, Miss Fucking-Clean-the-Clubhouse-so-I-Don't-Know-Where- Shit-Is-Anymore!

He'd arrived at the clubhouse to prepare for practice but couldn't find his Kalashnikov anywhere. Or his AK-47. Or the Uzi. He'd demanded their location from the manager, but she had just shrugged and said that she had shoved them in one of the office cabinets and honestly, what was he, a high school student, doing with so many firearms anyway? How had he even gotten a permit? He'd broken into laughter-a permit? She really thought that he would bother with a permit? Anyway, it was none of her damn business, and what the hell, stay the fuck away from his guns!

Hiruma had been more annoyed when he opened the lockers to find his guns just piled any old way. Ok, he wasn't the neatest of people, but he did take good care of his armaments and you don't just dump them like that. Whatever, he'd worry about it after practice. He found the guns he wanted ok, but when it came to the ammunition...where the hell did she put all the ammunition? Hiruma started yanking everything out because the damn bullets weren't anywhere.

That had gotten the manager all riled up though, as she started complaining that he was ruining all her work and started putting things back in. Somehow it degenerated into a contest of who could take stuff out/put stuff back the fastest,and they were still at it when Sena showed up and asked in a trembling voice what they were doing. Hiruma told him to mind his own damn business, but Mamori yelled at him not to talk to Sena that way.

The problem was, she stood up to do so (having been previously crouching to shove pistols back into the bottom) and slipped on a rifle rolling on the floor. She fell backward into the cabinet. Hiruma might have laughed that she was getting her just desserts except she grabbed his shirt as she fell, yanking him into the cabinet as well. And as he fell, he'd grabbed at the cabinet door, which slammed shut after them. Sena had tried to get them out, but the door had gotten stuck and he wasn't strong enough to pull it loose. Finally, Hiruma ordered him to go find the fucking fattie to yank the door off.

And so Hiruma Yoichi and Anezaki Mamori ended up wedged together in a very narrow space, unable to move or do anything until help arrived. Dammit. It had to be Monday, didn't it?

Anezaki Mamori desperately wanted to rub her temples, a really bad headache was coming on, but there wasn't space. What space wasn't occupied by her was occupied by a very annoying, very irritating, very infuriating quarterback. It was something out of a romantic shojo manga, honestly-they had fallen inside the very small cabinet with his hands on either side of her waist and her head wedged under his chin so all she could see was the hollow of his collarbone. Her hand was still fisted in his shirt, and they were pressed together so close that she could feel his heartbeat under her fingers.

But it wasn't romantic, because she was stuck in an office cabinet with Hiruma Yoichi, of all people. And he was blaming her for the whole situation and still refusing to use her actual name. If it wasn't for Sena, there was no way she would have willingly tortured herself by joining the American Football club and dealing with him every day.

It was horribly uncomfortable and the cabinet smelled of gunpowder and gun oil. She wrinkled her nose.

"Stop that." His breath fanned the hair over her ear.

"What?" she wrinkled her nose again, and it brushed the skin below his neck.

"That! It...tickles."

"It smells in here and it's making me want to sneeze," she told him tartly.

"If you get snot on me, I'll kill you."

She rolled her eyes. Oh yes, this was real romantic. Mamori sighed. Well, there was nothing better to do until Kurita arrived, so might as well..."Why don't you ever use my name?"

"What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Well, it's not like we can go anywhere, so I thought we could try and have a conversation."

"Fucking manager, we talk all the time. I wish you would shut up."

"We argue all the time, that's not the same. I want to know why you never use my name."

This time he sighed, and his breath fanned over her hair again. "Newsflash-I hardly use anybody's fucking name. Or is it the swearing that's offending your precious sensibilities?"

She bristled at the sarcasm in his voice. "It's not the swearing. My grandfather in America swears almost as much as you do. But just calling me the manager-"

"But that's your title." She couldn't see his face, but his bafflement at the thought processes of females was clear in his voice. "That's what you are and what you do. Besides, why would a Disciplinary Committee member would want the notorious Hiruma Yoichi calling her by name? People would think we were friends or something."

Now she was as baffled as he was. "You're trying to protect my reputation? Why? I thought I you were just using me as free labor."

She was expecting a smart come-back but instead there was a pause as he contemplated his response.

"Everyone uses everyone else in some way," he said finally. "You're using the manager role to protect the fucking shrimp, I'm using you for free work. But to be any fucking good at using people, you have understand their levers. You're very popular. If your association with the club and the rest of us who aren't in the fucking exalted popularity circle starts to decrease your reputation enough, the motivation to protect the shrimp won't be enough to stay. It's in my best interest to reduce your involvement with us to a functional role and protect your reputation so you'll stick around. Get it?"

Now it was Mamori's turn to pause. She hadn't thought that he'd thought through things that...analytically. Did he think of everything like that? Mamori had thought that Hiruma was just some crazy who did whatever he wanted when he wanted it, but if he'd thought through even what he called people in that detail... It was impressive, scary and fascinating all at once.

But still annoying. "Your analysis is off. Being popular is not one of my levers. If I say I'm going to be the manager of this club, I'm going to be the best manager I can be. I'm not going to just leave when things get tough. I don't care what others think as long as the people I care about still care about me."

"If you say so."

"I do say so!"

"Mamori-neechan, are you still there?" Sena's voice filtered from the outside.

"Where the fuck did he think we could go?" muttered Hiruma.

"I'm here, Sena!" Mamori called, ignoring the quarterback. "Did you find Kurita?"

She was answered by a grunt and then the screech of metal as the door to the cabinet was then bent and ripped off. With the door no longer holding their weight, Hiruma and Mamori fell out with a pile of guns on top of them. Mamori in particular was hit in the back of the head something.

"Oww..."

"Are you ok?" Kurita asked.

"There it is," Hiruma said, lifting the box of ammunition from Mamori's back. He looked down at her. "Get off, fucking manager."

Mamori opened her mouth automatically but then closed it. Well, if he thought that she was going to leave if her reputation took a little hit, she would have to prove him wrong. Until then, she was just going to have to deal with him not using her name. "I'm fine," she told Kurita and Sena with a smile, pushing up from Hiruma's chest and dusting herself off.

He glared at Sena and Kurita who were watching them. "What the hell are you doing just standing there? Go practice!" He fired at them and they took off with a yipe.

Before she could scold him for that, he slapped a stack of paper in her hands. "If you are going to be the best manager, then you better start doing your homework. Those are my notes on the other teams in the area-start reading up."

"Fine. After," she cast a significant glance at the mess of firearms, bullets, rockets and who knows what else littering the floor, "the rest of this gets put away again."

"I'll put them away this time," Hiruma snapped at her.

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. Though you ought to think of a place better than that cabinet. Maybe a weapons silo."

She didn't mean it in a serious way, but was startled to see an especially wide grin crossing his face. "Kekekeke. Not a bad idea, fucking manager. I'll have to talk to the principal..." He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and grabbed a football on his way out the door.