Chapter 12

Work. Work. Look at these statistics. It was really hard when they lost. Good fucking dammit. FOCUS. Schedule a practice match. Make posters. Practice. Work. There was a gripping ache in his chest. They just lost. Work. Make the fucking shrimp run faster. Find a coach. Work. Look for a receiver. Upgrade the cameras. Work. Send this letter. Work. A rock that was too heavy to carry. Make a promotional video. Send an email to that guy. Send the picture to that woman. Get more funds. Work. A pain that was making it hard for him to breathe. WORK. FOCUS. PRACTICE. WORK.

He closed his laptop. He set it aside almost throwing it to the desk in front of him.

He looked around, noticing the bright orange rays peeking from over the mountains. The humid taste of defeat was still in his tongue. Bitter. Sour. Ugly.

They lost to the White Knights. Twice.

The club room was still unusable due to the ongoing renovation. He had no other choice but to use his classroom for work. He wanted to be alone as well, away from Musashi and Kurita, from Sena and from everyone else. This defeat was difficult and each has a way of grieving it. Burying his nose in work, all alone in a classroom dimly lit by the setting sun was Hiruma's way.

He stretched his arms relieving him from the numbness of staying in that form for quite a while.

The sky was turning darker as the mountains hid more of the sun.

Hiruma stood up and picked up his bag, swinging it behind his back as his other hand took the laptop. H was heading home for today. He could have a better look at some of the video files at home than here.

He walked the silent hallway. Having nothing to do made his mind idle and went back to his thoughts. Even as he tried to think about the things he had planned for himself as soon as he gets home that thing would always come back. Back to that ugly bitterness of a lost season.

And it was hard to swallow. He knew it was hard on Kurita, on Sena and probably to some of the other helping members. But, selfish as he was, it was hardest on him. All these scheming and still he came up short.

"Hiruma-kun, you're still here?"

The sound of the voice pierced through the chaos of his mind and pulled him back to reality. Mamori was in front of him, almost from out of nowhere. He smirked.

"What is it to you fucking manager?"

Mamori puffed her cheeks. Hiruma smiled even more.

"Can you not talk to me like that." She said.

She then calmed.

"Anyway, have you seen the tapes? If you need anything else…" Mamori's words then trailed off. Without anything to stop her from speaking, she paused.

Hiruma saw the pain in her eyes. Sympathy was his initial guess but he felt that it was deeper. He had always observed people and knew exactly what they are feeling or thinking from their actions, gestures and facial expression. There was something more her eyes were conveying other than sympathy.

"Stop looking like you went to a fucking funeral fucking manager." Hiruma teased, his face showing that he was undisturbed by her face.

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to help you even more." Mamori said almost looking down.

"Great!" Hiruma said walking closer to her turning his lips in a full grin, "make me five more fucking poster designs. Two more drafts for a fucking promotional video. Also, drop by the student council and take their fucking heater."

Mamori pulled out a small notebook and a pen, she instantly started to jot. Hiruma's instructions spread into the page like wildfire. Mamori then had to pause and looked at him incredulously.

"Take what?"

He stepped closer once more.

"I mean, ask for the fucking heater they fucking borrowed from me."

Closer, just to see what she was writing down.

"Oh… ok." She answered, taking mental and physical notes of everything including the time she would do all that.

"You got that?"

Closer.

"Yes."

Mamori looked up noticing Hiruma's chest touching her shoulders and his face leaning over her notes. His scent easily mixed in the air as she breathed. She caught her breath afraid to breathe out to his dangerously near neck.

"Great!" Hiruma said, finally looking at her. His eyes scanned hers seeing himself looking back at him. He saw the reflection of a man hiding his defeat behind work and a fake smile.

Hiruma took a few steps back facing the direction he would go to.

"Now. Stop it with fucking pity face." Hiruma erased the fake smile. "We don't need your fucking sympathy."

Mamori didn't say a word. Her eyes that were full to attend to his orders turned glassy again and with that emotion he can't seem to point out. This time it was more intense. He knew it wasn't sympathy but that was the closest thing he could conclude from it.

"Tch." Hiruma turned around, "I'll be expecting you to be more useful from now on fucking manager. Those things… tomorrow."

"Hiruma-kun…" Mamori muttered but he did not look back.

She gave herself a little nod and looked at his retreating back, "I'll submit those things so you better stop talking to me like that." She said.

"Yeah yeah…"

"Also…" She paused and breathed more air, preparing for a louder voice, "I swear I'll help in making all of you Christmas bowl ready! You better win that!"

Hiruma just turned a bit "Kekeke. Fuck, of course! We could win without your help but you have no fucking choice. You can't run now fucking manager."

Mamori smiled a bit but instantly turned annoyed, "Stop calling me that!"

The light atmosphere. The feeling of another chance to win this thing. The only thing he had his eyes on. She understood it as well.

'Ah,' Hiruma focused on that single thought dimming all the others in his head.

'She lost too. It was hard on her too.'

xxx

Confetti fly, mugs clink and drinks are passed around. Joyous laughter and singing resounds from the clubroom. The triumphant celebration is unlike any party they held before. The food and drinks are overflowing, everyone in the team is there, even the supporting members, and all of them are having the best time of their lives.

They just won the Christmas Bowl and it's their second win at that. The fight was cruel and exhausting. The snowy field made it heavy to move around and the enemy was as tenacious as the Devil Bats. They fought with all they had with nothing but winning as their goal. Back then, the whole team were ready to die just to win.

And win they did... without anyone actually giving their life to the field.

This aggressiveness is something they all got from Hiruma. The Devil Bats will always be known like this. It is an unwritten tradition that will be passed until the future generations.

Hiruma eats and drinks with all of them, with Onizuma and his batch, with Sena and Monta, with the Huh-huh brothers and Taki, with Komusubi and Chuubou and with Yukimitsu, Musashi and Kurita. He had promised them that he will be with them once they win. And for Hiruma, the only thing they should really win is the Christmas Bowl.

Doboroku sits beside Mamori and Suzuna, drinking his sake he oversees the party.

"So Mamori, do you have any plans for next year?" He asks.

"Why yes. I'll continue studying at a University." She answers with a smile.

"A University huh... that sounds like a good choice for you."

"Eeeh, so you will leave American football?" Suzuna interjects.

Mamori hisses, "not so loud, Hiruma might hear you."

Suzuna sees Hiruma kicking Onizuma and Chuubou. She looks back to Mamori.

"You-nii won't like that at all."

Mamori looks down. Due to Hiruma being gone for a long time she has almost forgotten about that. She needs to prepare for that first thing tomorrow. And by preparing, she means the papers and other formalities, talking to Hiruma is a whole different task she cannot seem to wrap her head around on.

The party goes on until just before midnight. As each member leaves, saying their goodbyes, the room gets quieter and quieter.

"You can go home now Sena, I'll take care of these." Mamori says putting the used plastic cups in the garbage bag.

"Are you sure, Mamo-nee?" The boy asks.

Mamori nods, "be sure to take care of Suzuna, ok?"

Sena finally leaves with Suzuna and a worn out Taki.

Mamori is the only one left in the room. Even Doboroku had already left to drop off some of the boys. She looks around for Hiruma but he isn't anywhere. She feels alarmed. After everything that happened, it is very discomforting to not know where he is.

She looks out in the snow as she tries to remember where she saw him last. He was just there with them.

Outside in the snow stands Hiruma, beside him is a bin full of footballs. In full uniform with his number proud and tall against his back, he throws the ball forward.

He clicks his tongue, unsatisfied that the cold is getting to him. He takes another ball, poses to throw and throws it to an imaginary catcher in his mind.

This throw doesn't seem to satisfy him either.

"HIRUMA! There you are!"

Mamori walks through the snow hurriedly to him. He looks at her but instantly goes back in getting the next ball.

"What are you doing?" Mamori shouts.

"Practicing." Hiruma simply answers, "you go and hand me the fucking ball ok."

Mamori goes in front of Hiruma. "Let's do this tomorrow. It's late and very cold."

Hiruma sighs and throws the ball to the bin. He then goes to the side of the field where the bench is. He sits, takes off his helmet and continues to lie down. The coldness touches his face. He closes his eyes.

Mamori pushes the bin aside. She decides to take care of the balls on the other side of the field tomorrow.

Mamori goes to the bench and smiles at Hiruma. "You better not be sleeping there."

"Not fucking sleeping." Hiruma answers.

Mamori kneels on the snow beside Hiruma. She pokes his face and surely he opens his eyes and looks at her.

"Yeah, I fucking admit it. I missed playing when I saw them all. Stop it with that fucking smile."

Mamori giggles, "I am not saying anything."

Hiruma sighs. He then looks at the dark sky reaching out his hand towards the stars as he says with conviction, "I will fucking play to win again next year. This time… the fucking goal is the fucking NFL!"

"I'll do my best to cheer you." Mamori says happily.

Hiruma pulls his hand down and turns his head to her.

"Ah, I'll work you to the fucking bone this time to help me but you have no fucking choice. You can't run now fucking manager." Hiruma says with a grin.

Mamori's eyes sparkle with tears, feeling a bit nostalgic as she sees the image of a younger Hiruma.

But can she really? Can she really follow him and be by his side until next year? Who knows where Hiruma will go after this. She doesn't know what will happen to them and she can only fear the worst.

"Let's go home." Mamori says, pushing aside such thoughts for now. It is late and the chill is already getting through her skin.

Hiruma then reaches for her head and pulls her to him. With familiarity, he captures her lips. They are cold as he kisses them. He nibbles on her lips feeling his breath becoming warmer as his heart beats faster. Deepening the kiss and opening her mouth Hiruma exchanges the warmth of his kiss with hers. He pulls her closer as his other hand goes and embraces her. Mamori clings to him chasing the hotness of his breath and the sweetness of his lips.

Hiruma opens his eyes and pulls his mouth away from her. Mamori looks at him, her mouth hanging with his taste still in her tongue.

"Let's go home." Hiruma speaks her words, "But you will fucking come with me tonight." He adds.

Mamori's mind tells her to think about her parents and what her excuse will be for this. Her mind tells her that she doesn't have any change of clothes prepared so she will wear the same thing tomorrow. Her mind tells her that there will be a lot of things she needs to prepare early tomorrow and it will be unwise to go with him tonight.

"Come with me tonight." He speaks these words once more.

His eyes were on her the whole time. That certain deep stare silences all her thoughts leaving only her heart to answer to him.

"Yes."