Summary: "Never believe me"; Mamori learns more about her job as manager.
Notes: This is a set of 10 one-shots, each revolving around a different "order".
Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21. Nor do I own the idea of "10 Orders"; that belongs to the Live Journal community of the same name. I have no affiliation with them, and am simply borrowing some of their prompts.
Never Believe Me
Hiruma was a devil. You couldn't trust him, couldn't turn your back on him, and couldn't hide from him. Everyone knew this. Everyone, that is, except Anezaki Mamori.
She had spent almost an hour looking for the tapes of the game with the Chameleons, which Hiruma had said were necessary for team practice that day, but she still couldn't find them. When she had called Hiruma for help, he had told her to look in the drawers of the clubhouse's desk, but none of the tapes in there were labeled for the Chameleons' game.
Finally giving up, Mamori headed out to the field, dejected and prepared to suffer intense humiliation for her failure. She wasn't expecting to find the team running drills like usual, as if they weren't waiting for her to find the necessary tapes. Spotting Hiruma, Mamori made her way over to him to apologize. When she was within two feet of him, however, he turned an accusing look her way and demanded, "Where the hell were you, fucking manager? We've been waiting out here for you for an hour!"
"Hiruma, I called you thirty minutes ago to ask where the Chameleons' tapes were!" Mamori protested. Remembering what he'd said, she added, "And you were wrong, the tapes weren't in the desk drawer!"
The quarterback blinked at her and started cackling. "You actually went looking for those tapes for that long?" Mamori waited for the explanation, an odd feeling in her stomach. Why was he laughing so hard? Finally, Hiruma brought himself under control and nudged the box resting by his feet. Mamori looked down to see what was inside of it.
"You—you absolute jerk! You had the tapes out here the whole time!" she shrieked. Realizing that there wasn't any video equipment set up, she added, "And you told me those were necessary for today's practice, but you're not even using them!"
"Of course we're not," Hiruma scoffed. He looked at her seriously and ordered, "Never believe what I say, fucking manager. That's not your job." As abruptly as he'd sobered, he turned back to the field and opened fire on poor Eyeshield 21 and Monta-kun. "Faster, fucking shrimps!"
Mamori stared at him, too shocked to protest his abuse of the other players. Then what is my job, if not to believe you? Isn't that what we're all supposed to do, as club members answering to a captain? No answers were forthcoming, and Mamori didn't have the courage to voice her newfound questions.