Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

Author's note: Thank you Cherry Tiger! Mamori's friends' names now updated. I knew it was an A and an S...

Short Pass: Realization

She could barely manage to think the words in her head, it was so insane.

After Sena revealed himself as Eyeshield 21 in the match against the Bando Spiders, Deimon High was in an uproar. Well, the rest of the high school American Football world too, but especially Deimon High. How could wimpy little bully gopher Kobayakawa Sena be the rocketing football speed ace Eyeshield 21? It was mind-boggling.

Even Mamori's old friends Sara and Ako were peppering her with questions. It was somewhat annoying, as this was the first lunch they had been able to eat together for a while, but Mamori supposed that she couldn't blame them.

Did you know that he was Eyeshield 21?

"No, I had absolutely no idea. It came as a surprise to me too."

Why? How could you not know? You had practice together nearly every day!

"Well, Sena always changed into Eyeshield 21 behind the scenes and I was busy doing something else..." Though Mamori should have known. After all it wasn't as if the rest of the team's excuses were all that great. And she had already known that running was pretty much the only gym subject that Sena was any good at...

It was, she was loathe to admit, willful blindness on her part. She had spent so many years looking after Sena and trying to protect him from everything that she could literally not conceive that he could be such a strong player. Even though she had noticed that Sena was maturing a little in the football club and was proud of him for sticking through Hiruma's hellish practices, something still did not compute. She was mortified that she had missed so many signposts along the way (honestly the Death March? How had she not noticed during the Death March?) and realized that what she had thought was just protectiveness was in fact looking down on Sena and his potential.

It was still taking her awhile to work through all the feelings that she didn't have time to right after Sena's confession in the game. Mamori wondered if that was why Hiruma had asked Suzuna to be Sena's "agent" (well, ordered in that "Don't let the other teams fucking poach him, fucking skate girl" way of his) instead of her. At first she had been at little hurt, but she soon recognized that some space was probably good. Besides, if she was going to let Sena grow up finally, she was going to have to get used to seeing him with other girls. And she thought that he might be having a little crush on the cheerleader...

"Mamori? Earth to Mamori!"

"Uh, what?" Mamori jerked back to attention to find one of her friends waving a hand at her face. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

"So are you still going to be the Devil Bats' manager?"

Mamori blinked. "Well, of course I am. Why do you ask?"

"But didn't you say that you were only going to be the manager to protect Sena? It seems to me that he's doing pretty well on his own. I mean, he's Eyeshield 21! Jeez, I'm never going to get over that."

Mamori managed to push off the question by muttering something about how she had made a commitment to the team, there were only a few more games until the end of the season and where else were they going to find someone to take over this late? Which was all true but...

Later, in her room at home, she thought: what if she did quit? Her friends were right, her original reason for even joining the team at all was completely moot at this point. True, it was late in the season to find a substitute for her, but Suzuna could probably do it in a pinch or Hiruma could blackmail someone else. Or he might not even need to blackmail anyone, as interest in the school's American Football team was skyrocketing.

If she wasn't the manager, she wouldn't have to spend all her nights and weekends on the field instead of doing homework or just hanging out with her friends. She wouldn't have to be constantly coming up with excuses for the quarterback's...unconventional training methods. She wouldn't spend countless sleepless nights running through plays. True, she'd never get to laugh with the team and relax over food after a long day of practice, but she could actually enjoy a game instead of feeling like she was going to have a heart attack every time the Devil Bats got hurt.

If she wasn't the manager, she'd never spend another afternoon arguing with Hiruma over the analysis of past games. She'd never have him tease her about creampuffs and snacking and her bad art. She'd never experience the almost telepathic light-speed communication they had during a game.

She'd never get to see Hiruma Yoichi at all except occasionally in class or as a small spiky blond figure way down on the field...

Mamori suddenly stiffened. Since when did she look forward to seeing Hiruma? He was a psychotic blond nut, with a tongue even sharper than his hair, incurably violent tendencies, and a tendency to not only ignore societal rules but blow them up with twelve packs of C4. Seeing his behavior once was enough to make her join the Deimon High Disciplinary Committee.

But he also cared greatly about his friends, though he tried not to show it. He pushed others hard, but never more than they could bear, and he would never ask the team to do anything that he was not willing to do himself. He worked harder than anyone. He was incredibly smart, determined, surprisingly trustworthy and challenged her like nobody else...

If she wasn't the manager anymore, she would miss him, she realized. Sure, she would miss everyone else too, but she thought about rooting for them on the sidelines, or perhaps stopping by with snacks every once and awhile. But she would miss him, and the thought of suddenly not seeing him every day was like someone giving a great big wrench to her world.

Oh god. Mamori stared aghast at the ceiling. Oh nooo... When did this happen? Her brain started ticking over the past few months, and couldn't pinpoint it. But it had happened, apparently, and oh god...

She could barely manage to think the words in her head, it was so insane. I've...

One thing was certain-she couldn't let him know. She was terrified of letting him know. She would give up creampuffs before letting him know. True, they got along a lot better now than in the beginning, but she could not think of any time that he treated her any better than anyone else. She wasn't a long-time friend, like Musashi or Kurita. She wasn't a team ace like Sena or Monta or even Taki. She supposed he did at least think that she was useful, and a step up from a mere slave... For example, he let her argue with him about ideas (and perhaps even encouraged it, as she was practically the only person who would do so) but he still collected pictures and who knows what else on her for his Threat Book.

He had even kissed her once (oh god) and didn't feel anything. Instead he did it as a joke and to get another compromising photo. Though she supposed that she was glad he'd done that before she realized...this, because she wasn't sure what she would do if he did it now.

Mamori screwed her eyes shut and groaned into her pillow. It was still a long way until the Christmas Bowl.