Chapter Eleven: The Lone Wolf

A/N: StarrkUlqui chapter. You can skip this because this has no relevance whatsoever. And lol I want this finished before the year ends because I'll most likely be busy in the next six months. Enjoy!

Again, we were being swept off by Juujika. Only this time, we were getting smashed for real and not in a practice match. Fuck Abarai, fuck Hidetomo and, above all, fuck Starrk. But I wasn't one to talk, was I? Because I myself had got sacked twice—by the same person. Renji Abarai. Abarai was chiefly a defensive player, whose physical strength could not be outplayed by anything less than the speed of light. For some reason, he was currently also playing on offense today, as second RB. With that sort of versatility, no one could've credited him for anything less than a fiend. But his athletic successes would not be forwarded had it not been for Juujika's tactician who also happened to be quarterback and the team captain. Kajoumaru Hidetomo was a fucking genius who specialized in mind games. It was nearly impossible to read through his signals and plays unless you were some sort of a psychic.

So while the opponent was taking possession after possession, coach was beginning to do his nuts. The ball was, after all, hating us with all the soul it had. I was sitting on the bench, watching our defense team make fools of themselves as though they were a bunch of helpless middle schoolers, when coach blared at me, his volume almost knocking the cup of Gatorade I was holding,

"Grimmjow! Get yourself and Shuhei on the fucking defensive before third Down. I want Abarai subdued and their Offensive Line destroyed, do you hear me?!"

Hisagi looked as though he was going to pee his pants. Pissing one's self aside, players like Hisagi and I seldom played on defense, and half of the time such opportunity was given us whenever coach Muruguma was running out of options. This time, he was out of options. Instead of reserving my and Hisagi's energy for the upcoming possession, he gambled his way out with the best of his cards. Hisagi and I were his best players. Obligingly, we both assumed the Safety positions, docilely, hoping against hope for this purgatory to end. By the end of the first half, however, the score was 12 to 29, which meant that, following each of our two touchdowns, we had failed to make a one-point or a two-point conversion. And that, of course, brought my thoughts back to Starrk.

"What the hell is happening?" I asked the team during a timeout on the second half.

"That Abarai is happening." Was the answer I received from Di Roy.

"Never mind that bastard." I remarked, passed a quick glance over every head around me, and resumed, "Omaeda, I want you to break through their Offensive Line in less than three seconds. Understand, Linemen? Shuhei, ya heard coach. You ain't called the Cheetah for nothing. You're faster than Abarai which pretty much suggests there's no victory for us if ya can't shove his face in the mud. Ylfordt, and Shawlong, assist the Cheetah on this. We'll go on with the same formation; only this time I want it to work."

"I'll do it. If they gain more than two yards, feel free to drive a football into my crotch after the game." Hisagi assured, with extraordinary confidence. But the next thing he spoke boded the dark turn of events which awaited us. He continued, "The real problem is our offense. We can't push through without try-for-points, can't even go for successful onside kicks. We're getting more touchbacks than ball safeties. Unless we opt for a two-point conversion all the time, which would be a bitch to pull, we'll—"

"—Forget the goalposts for now! We're on Defense, damn it. I don't wanna hear your stupid whining!" Coach roared behind us, to which Hisagi frowned miserably. Just like that, the matter was settled as if it could be done as easily as it was said.

"Okay, then. Looks like I'll have to kill Abarai for real." Hisagi muttered to himself, dejected, while he buckled his helmet.

During the next set of plays, it became clear to me why Hisagi Shuhei was the ace of the team and no one else. All those minutes he had sat on the bench or had gotten outdone by Abarai, he had been, apart from our knowledge, analyzing his opponent's singularities. Sure, we had superb Linebackers like Ylfordt Grantz and Shawlong Koufang, but within the team no one was as fierce, nor as talented, as our RB. Thus it happened, in Juujika's fourth attempt to gain yards, when Renji Abarai was finally pinned down to the ground by our glorious Running Back, who almost managed to make a fumbled ball in the process.

"So you've finally unleashed the fucking beast? Did you see the look on Abarai's face? He was just about to make a fucking desperate punt kick!" I told him and, with that, both our convictions to win were renewed.

His speed was unnerving; I could give him that. On our next possession, streaming past every fucking Linebacker and Safety on the field, he could damn well leave every play to himself once I handed the ball to him. My cards from hereon were limited to back-passes and handoffs. Since there was no stopping our genius Running Back, within minutes the scores rallied into closer figures. But this didn't mean Abarai and Hidetomo accepted the blows without retaliation. Indeed their movements became more and more aggressive with every play that followed.

In the end, our strength in running alone decided the outcome of the match. Silently and calmly, Hidetomo Kajoumaru accepted that, against Hisagi's lightning speed and learning curve, nothing could be done. Feel the wrath of a once-in-a-generation Running Back, bastards, I was thinking. The scoreboard now glowed with blatant digits, reading 44 and 42 in our favor with zero minutes remaining, our comeback stupefying everyone in the crowd and in the opposing team alike. This particular victory was intoxicating unlike any other, because it also meant we were entering the regional finals. Meanwhile, Renji Abarai and Hisagi were exchanging modest words on the sideline, their postures awkward. While a number of things were happening, including the forwarding of congratulatory words all around me, Hidetomo, perhaps the most mature team captain high school had ever seen, held his hand to me and said,

"Grimmjow, thank you for the wonderful game. My high school football journey ends here. With that, the least I can do is to wish you luck for the next match. Kyoushin Gakuen, dubbed the strongest in Kanto, is next and you know who to watch out for; the Twin Dragons, Madarame and Ayasegawa."

"So I've heard. But you and I both know who's now sitting on the throne. So for everyone's satisfaction, we will crush Karakura Wolves when the time comes."

"Ah, yes, Ginjo Kugo, the 'Alpha Male' aka the strongest quarterback in Tohoku; Many believe Karakura will eventually crush last year's champion now that the Alpha has come to be its captain. It's been my dream to defeat him with my wits and Renji's talents… I caught sight of him on the bleachers earlier, right behind the bench—there he is."

Jujiika's captain gestured toward my left. In the space of time where I turned my eyes on the appointed direction, everything else in my surrounding receded to sheer echoes. Hidetomo's parting nod barely registered to me. All I was aware of was the presence of this third quarterback. Yes, there he was, Ginjo Kugo, standing tall amid the relentless spectators and beaming amid the obscurity. He was looking at me. I couldn't tell what sort of understanding passed on between us, but somehow I deduced we were both under no illusions of being entitled to undermine each other's capabilities. Bottom line was, he was strong but the same could be said of me.

Come, Grimmjow. He seemed to be beckoning me. I was all set up to return the favor when something from the vicinity of my vision caught my attention; Ichigo was sitting beside him. For reasons best known to me, their proximity with one another was disquieting, even as Ichigo was beaming at me. To my relief, I was rescued from this sordid staring match by Yadomaru who, not without irritation, shook me off my current state,

"How long are you planning on spacing out like that?"

On the parking lot, our victory seemed to lend a certain charm to the athletes. But I made my way heedlessly to my mother's car, which I had borrowed earlier today, my haste making it immediately obvious that I'd rather not get assailed by the stupid cheerleaders. By this time, the Juujika Gakuen students who had come to watch their team get crushed most likely had all gone home. On the other hand, it was possible Ichigo had hitched a ride with Kugo, with whom he appeared to get along very well; an idea which bothered me. A lot.

Just then, a group of scantily-clad sophomore girls came into view, completely ignoring my less popular teammates. As not a square inch of space surrounding Hisagi, Ylfordt and Omaeda was available for further human occupation, these chicks chose me as their next target. Luckily, Ulquiorra appeared behind them, looking as though he would rather be anywhere else in the world. Smiling at the girls' direction, I waved my hand up in the air, to which they responded by hastening their steps and giggling uncontrollably. But I was not so sadistic as to leave them long in suspense, so I called out,

"Ulquiorra! Here, mate!"

At that, the bimbos scowled in dejection, turned around to find my friend idling behind them, and yet they remained unfazed. Upon reaching me, one of them spoke,

"Jaguar King, we were wondering if you'd want to drop by tonight. I'm hosting a party at my house, and almost every Panther is coming. It would be a blast if the super quarterback consented to come."

"I'd love to, but my fucking boyfriend has come to pick me up." I said with a straight face, gesturing at Ulquiorra whose eyes widened in what probably was mortification.

"Oh, you're really funny, Grimmy! But come now." Girl #2 pleaded.

As a rule, I always tried not to growl at girls, including Yadomaru at the height of her nagging tirades. Hence I merely stuffed my bag at the backseat, to imply the firmness of my resolve, and answered,

"Here's how it is: I ma split the fuck out for—"

"—We've scheduled a romantic dinner tonight. So unless you girls wish to ruin our pre-arranged date..." Ulquiorra, with the best of his humor and a deadpan expression, butted in. Until now, I had had no idea he was prone to contemplate terrible forms of amusement, like what he had just shown, but I was all ready to give him a high five anyway.

Not waiting for elaboration, the women cleared out. Whether they believed me and Ulquiorra or not was open to suggestions. I couldn't really care less.

"I'd have preferred a mellower alternative but that would do." I told Ulquiorra with feigned reproach.

"You started it."

"What do you want?"

"We need to talk… and, oh, congratulations." He answered before installing himself on the passenger seat without as much as awaiting invitation. This simply meant I was going to drive him home while he yapped about something of relative importance. Having established that much, I secured myself behind the wheel and cracked the engine into a start. Before long, we were streaming past buildings.

"Start talking."

"Starrk."

"What, are you two dating or something?"

"Cut it out, Grimmjow."

"Then why the hell are we talking about that fucking prick? You know I hate him to the core, dammit. We almost got eliminated for good, in this match of all fucking matches, because he wouldn't fucking—"

"—remember when we were in middle school? You two were inseparable, like twins."

"…"

My silence was a clear indication of what Starrk meant to me, as a lost teammate and as an estranged friend. For whatever discretion, Ulquiorra showed at first no open knowledge of what I was presently feeling, but soon it became evident that he and I had been sharing the same sentiment for two years now.

"I was like the third wheel, tagging around with you two." He started without elaborating. In fact, he had been like some snotty wannabe with no friends. Starrk and I had been the tallest, most popular, and most athletic kids in the batch, and everyone had looked up to us. But, as chance would have it, we had come to accept Ulquiorra into our two-men circle. That had been way back in middle school. Two years ago Starrk had decided to distance himself not only from me but also from Ulquiorra. I had reasons to believe he had done that because otherwise I'd have been the one who would've gone solo, friendless. Since then he had been the lone wolf. I had always known it had been a huge sacrifice on his part, so for that very reason I hadn't had the shamelessness to confront him nor to demand he explain himself. For Ulquiorra's part, he had chosen to respect Starrk's decision by staying beside me. Ulquiorra continued, "The point is, what the hell happened to us? It used to be you, me and Starrk."

"He went emo shit. You know it as much as I do. Just who did he think he was, dumping us like trash just because he didn't wanna play anymore? So our fucking tandem was over and done for—because he couldn't bring himself back on the field? He could've been the Panthers' fucking captain!"

"He had no choice but to quit."

"Fine, but what good is breaking up with us?! Do I look like I'm all about fucking football? Best friends, huh? Fuck that." I spat in restrained anger, my grip on the wheel tightening.

"His sister is ill; that you know as much as I do. His part-time job, which he needs more than anything now, doesn't allow spare time for things like football practice, hanging around with us, or reviewing classes. That's the reason why he's been so sleep-deprived and distant."

"So what's his game, huh? Thinking of himself as a bona fide lone wolf? As you ought to remember, I insisted he could take his own pace, miss practice and whatnot. Hell, he could even tell coach and Yadomaru to fuck off for all I cared. But he made it a point to show us he was so over me and you and that he wouldn't care two fucking straws if the name Nagano Panthers were dragged into the fucking ditch!"

Ulquiorra didn't answer, thus rendering our proximity almost disagreeable, and I was so bitter, what with all the reminiscences pressing against me. At length, I heard him say,

"That time at the cafeteria he invited me to his home, right? If I remember correctly, he invited you too but you pissed him off. It was his mother's birthday then. Moving on, do you remember what his room used to look like?"

"Fuck yeah. NFL and Jeff Wilkins's posters in every damn square inch of the wall." I replied gloomily, remembering those old days when we had goofed around the neighborhood, to afterward spend the rest of the afternoon at Starrk's place until my mom would have arrived to pick me and Ulquiorra up.

"It still looks the same. Well, not really. I fancy there have been a few additions to the montage. David De Castro seems to have added to the list of footballers he admires… Grimmjow, this has to mean something."

"That fucker! De Castro entered NFL just this year!" I thundered. I found my foot slamming on the brakes. As it was, our heads jerked forward. Somehow, excitement was besetting me like fire because it was now clear that Starrk, should Ulquiorra's accounts be relied upon, was still harboring some attachment toward the sport he claimed to have fucking abandoned. Like some romantically wretched fool, he was hurting inside, dying to kick a fucking ball or to tackle someone, but was instead left with no choice but to attend to his domestic responsibilities and leave his one passion unattended. That or my imagination was shooting off the scales.

"Exactly."

"That motherfucker!"

"As captain of the Panthers, what are you going to do?"

I floored the gas pedal to get us moving once again. Smiling like a fool, eyes on the road, I couldn't suppress my excitement. More than anything, it appeared there existed not a word nor an event which could alter Starrk's eventual decision to rejoin the Panthers. He would come back, that much I was sure of.

"Regardless, he will return to where his kicking ass belongs in no time. I've been waiting for too long for that asshole."

"I always knew you were waiting. Too obvious."

With that remark, I resolved to talk to Starrk sometime in the next few days.

"So you're dating the bastard?"

"The answer remains the same: cut it out, Grimmjow."

"Mistrusting prick."

"Well, we did kiss, in his room. Looking back, I'm mighty glad you didn't accept his invitation."

I kinda expected that answer.

TBC