Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

Author's note: I will ship Hiruma X Mamori until the Christmas Bowl and beyond (duh, that's why I'm writing these), but did anyone else get the feeling that Mamori and Musashi were a lot closer in school than just classmates? I mean, look at her expression when they talk about him. You don't look like that for just another desk in the room.

Short Pass: First

First guy doesn't always win. The couple from the outside.

If American Football had not exploded into their lives, it was safe to say that most of the Devil Bats would have never known one another other than a vague recognition of a name or a wave in the hallway.

This was not the case with Anezaki Mamori and Takekura "Musashi" Gen.

Later, he would wonder what would have happened if his father's health had never deteriorated and he'd never had to drop out of school. The wonderings were never more than a fleeting thought, he owed it to them not to let them become anything else, but they did pass over his mind occasionally.

You see, Musashi saw her first.

The first time was at the Deimon High freshmen orientation. She had been one of the neophytes to Hiruma's particular madness and stared like the rest at the football decorations that had plastered the room. Musashi had only noticed her as a teenage boy (despite his face) would notice a pretty girl.

He kept noticing her as the weeks followed because Mamori was...different than the other girls. He wasn't sure what it was, but he watched her in classes as she answered the teacher and did her turn of the chores, he noted as she joined the Disciplinary Committee, he saw the way she took notes meticulously in careful pen.

Still, Musashi may have left it at that, except one day she caught him practicing his kicks on the field Hiruma had blackmailed the principal for. His two friends weren't there yet-Kurita making a snack run and Hiruma doing god knows what-so he was practicing alone. He was just setting up the ball again when he heard clapping.

Turning around, he saw Mamori, her hair stirring in the breeze and her eyes catching the light of the setting sun.

"Wow, you're very good," she told him.

"Uh, thanks," he told her, somewhat embarrassed.

"What kind of ball is that?" she asked, approaching curiously. "I've never seen one in that shape."

"It's a football."

"Aren't football's black, white and round*?"

"Yeah, but this is an American football."

She blinked at him. "What's the difference?"

He wasn't as good as explaining as Hiruma and his demented animations were, and eventually just recommended the same book Kurita had given him when he'd first joined the American Football Club. She wrote the title down in that neat handwriting of hers and waved goodbye just as Kurita and Hiruma rounded the corner.

Slowly but steadily, Musashi stopped just noticing her but actually talked to her. They didn't become friends or anything, but if she saw him in the hall she would smile and wave, and if she passed the field on the way home and he was there, she would stop to talk.

Hiruma teased him about it but Hiruma didn't like her because Mamori had caught him in the hall one day blackmailing one of the quieter students. The student was a real creep and had a penchant for stalking the girls locker rooms, but from the outside it certainly looked like a straight on bullying and Mamori wasn't having any of that. Musashi remembered being impressed by her complete lack of fear in confronting the Blackmail God when most girls squealed away.

Weeks turned into months and a couple of times Musashi thought about asking her out. She was kind, pretty, smart and dedicated. He liked her. But then his dad's health took a sharp and drastic turn for the worse and girls were the last thing on his mind. The last time he saw Mamori was the day in the hallway where he was trying to smoke to get expelled.

More than a year passed and one day he got a phone call from Hiruma with a work order to expand their old clubhouse. He hadn't wanted to take it, but the money was good (though he was careful not to ask where Hiruma got it) and his dad's medical bills were still high. It had been hard to go back, but he was curious about what had happened after he'd left. Though he had decided he could never play again, it was fun to watch the ragtag team of freshmen and other sports players Hiruma had conned into joining the team.

And then, of course, Mamori was there. She had become the team's manager in a turn of events he wasn't quite sure he understood, other than her protective instincts over the little running back Hiruma was calling Eyeshield 21 had gotten the better of her. She was still as kind, pretty, smart and dedicated as he remembered, and still got on badly with Hiruma.

Apparently. Though appearances were deceiving. He had been nailing the last shingles to the roof of the latest addition to the clubhouse when below Mamori and Hiruma walked out. As usual, they were arguing. He mostly ignored it these days, but today he took a break to watch.

They could probably argue about the moon if they wanted to, so he didn't pay attention to the words. Instead, he looked at the faces. Musashi looked at the way Hiruma grinned at Mamori, he looked at the way Mamori's eyes glittered as she looked at Hiruma, he looked at the way they stood next to each other. And because he wasn't paying attention to the words, he heard all the things that they weren't saying, and probably didn't even know that they weren't saying.

Huh, he thought. And then, those idiots. And, with a little reluctance, he let his last thoughts of a kind, pretty, smart and dedicated girl go. She would be good for Hiruma, that was never a question, and Hiruma probably would be good for her.

Though, Musashi decided, picking up his hammer again, if Hiruma ever hurt her Musashi would have to see how far devil could run with gum stuck to each eyeball and one of his bazookas kicked up his ass.

*Practically everyone outside of the US calls soccer "football". This is why American football is stressed so much in the series.