Summary: "Don't lie to me"; Hiruma and Mamori show concern for each other in different ways.
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.
Author's Note: Sorry this is so late; ff has been having uploading issues for about a week for apparently everybody.
Don't Lie To Me
"What were you doing with the fucking dreads, fucking manager?" Hiruma demanded the instant Mamori stepped in the clubhouse.
Mamori blinked in surprise. "How did you even—no, never mind, I probably don't want to know how you knew that," she shook her head. "Honestly, the lengths you go to just to keep an eye on Agon-san impress me sometimes."
Hiruma's scowl deepened as long, lean fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on the desk. Mamori couldn't help but notice that none of the other Devil Bats was there, even though practice was supposed to start soon. "Where is everyone, anyways? They're all going to be late," the manager mused.
"The fucking team's out on the field if they know what's good for them. What the hell were you thinking?" Hiruma snapped, as if repeating the question would yield better results than the first time.
"They're at it early," Mamori replied. "And it was yesterday when I wasn't needed here, Hiruma-kun, so I don't know why you're wasting time on the issue."
The quarterback stood up walking around the desk so that he was towering over Mamori. "What did you two do?" Hiruma once more demanded.
"I managed to get a bit turned around and he helped me find my way," Mamori gave in, realizing that she wasn't getting out of there without answering the question.
"Don't lie to me, fucking manager," Hiruma warned. His right hand snaked out and grabbed her arm before she could say anything else, and his left hand pushed her sleeve up enough to reveal the dark, finger-shaped bruises around her wrist. "What were you doing with the fucking dreads? And this time, tell me the truth."
Mamori frowned slightly. Hiruma didn't have time to get in a fight with anyone, not with the start of their third year at Deimon and the end of their time with the American Football Team drawing close. "Don't worry about it, Hiruma-kun. Nothing happened. Come on, the rest of the team is probably waiting for us."