"She sucks."

"What was that crap?"

"She'd be better as a fucking manager!"

"This is shit!"

Clenching her fists, Abigail fought the urge to strangle the Devil teen. Each performance had earned at least one derogatory comment and she was getting sick of it. Were any of the girls champion material? Of course not. Nearly all those who tried were obvious rookies. So far, only two had been notably confident and at ease with what they were doing, but she wasn't complaining. A number of girls showed real effort and potential; she especially liked the girl who fell and immediately got up smiling. However, Hiruma wasn't looking for potential. He wanted a grand batch of cheerleaders for his team as soon as possible. Abby didn't.

She didn't want a group she could immediately go to nationals with. No, she wanted a team she could trust. Filled with girls who would work themselves to the bone without being told, who would never stop trying, and would leave no one behind. Pushing, pulling, and dragging each other if necessary. A team that would not end a performance prim, pretty, and sweet, but with tired, heavy breaths, smiling. Not because they had to, but because they couldn't help it.

The most recent applicant, a short girl with dead eyes and dark hair stopping just above her chin, finished out of breath and with a slight stumble. Abigail immediately flung a hand over the Devil's mouth.

"Thank you very much," she smiled, ignoring the dark aura emitting from the boy beside to her. "Callbacks should be up next week." The girl looked between them, not a hint of emotion passing her features, before giving a small bow and scurrying out of the gym. Abigail let go and glared at him.

"What's your problem?!" They shouted at one another. "ME?!"

"You said the tryouts were mine, remember? So stop acting like a massive dick!" Abby shrilled in her native tongue.

"I'm being honest! They're all fucking terrible!"

"They're not–!" She turned forward sharply, stopping herself. "They're inexperienced," she explained, slowly piecing her calm persona back together. "It's your own fault if you can't tell the difference." The American picked up her clipboard, putting a few notes and a number next to the girl's name: Saito Natsuki. Hiruma grumbled under his breath but she ignored him and called for the next applicant.

The door cracked open and a tiny figure slid into the room. Both Abigail and Hiruma straightened their spines, wide eyes following the newest entry. The two shared a glanced at the list of names on Abby's clipboard, then at each other. Hiruma started cackling, nearly falling off the bleachers as Abigail glared at him. She quickly turned to the small, blushing boy before them.

"Do not be minding him. Everyone has equal chance to be cheerleader," she said sternly, slapping the Devil's arm to make him stop, but to no avail.

"I-I would really like to... be on your squad, Green-san. However, I... don't think it would be a good idea. I have enough trouble making friends as it is..." He made an audible gulp, unable to meet her gaze.

She tilt her head slightly, eyes unwavering. "You do want to? You do not want to? I do not understand. Be clear."

"I-I do!" The boy said, quickly looking up at her. "But... I don't want others to..." his mumbles became quieter and quieter.

Abigail regarded him carefully. She decided that signing up and coming to cheer tryouts must have been terribly difficult for a boy so shy. Clearly, it was something he wanted to be a part of, gender rolls be damned. She'd like having such a person on her team, but couldn't shake her disappointment and annoyance in his intense concern for others' approval. It was something most in her country looked down upon or at least pitied.

"I do not want two answers," she scolded. "I only want one." He nodded, still staring at his shoes. She studied him for another minute, mulling over what to do, then sighed. "Come here and think. Tell me the answer at the end. Okay?"

The boy nodded again and quickly made his way over to the bleachers. She smiled and pat the seat beside herself. She didn't want him to think coming here had been a mistake or that he would be un-welcomed for something as silly and unfair as not wanting to be bullied. He sat beside her dutifully as Hiruma called for the next fucking applicant.

"We're alive," Abby yawned. "Somehow."

Hiruma kicked the door open to leave the gym and she slipped out before it could close. In the end, Ren had officially decided that he couldn't decide. So Hiruma kindly suggested the position of team manager. After staring down the barrel of a gun, Ren immediately agreed it was the best idea in the world. Abby felt bad, but said nothing as they swapped phone numbers. The thing she'd always hated most about being a captain was the technicalities and paperwork. If Ren being her forced manager meant she didn't have to deal with such things, she was selfishly for it. To make amends, she offered him the position of substitute whenever a girl couldn't participate. He said he'd need to think about that, too.

It's probably a miracle he even managed to show up. Abby fought down a laugh, picturing her new manager unable to decide on which colored pen to fill out paperwork with or who to give the first bottle of water during practice.

"You know where Tokyo Tower is, right?" Hiruma asked, suddenly breaking the silence. The girl cocked a brow.

"Yeah, I've been there once." She turned her head a few times, trying to figure which direction it would be in, before returning her attention to the Devil. "Why?"

He grinned. "The Devilbats are having an entrance trial there. Too many applicants who don't give a crap. You're going to help."

"I am?"

"You are."

"Says who?"

"I do."

She glared. "Why?"

"Like I said, too many people. And it's the fucking cheerleaders' job to support the team."

"And what is it you want me to do exactly? Stand there screaming 'Go team'? 'Don't trip, you poor fools'? 'If you're afraid of heights, it sucks to be you'? Because I don't know how to say half of that in Japanese."

He let loose a few dark chuckles. "Just be there Saturday by 9."

"Do I have to wear my school clothes?" She asked seriously as they neared the front gate.

He scoffed. "I don't fucking care."

"Sweet."

"Fucking weirdo."

"Shut up, jerk."

As unpopular as the opinion was among most teenagers, Abigail actually liked being up in the morning. The crisp air inspired warm drinks and light blankets, resulting in a quiet, cozy atmosphere. It was only the waking up part that she didn't like. Waking up early made her feel crusty and bland, especially on the weekends. This morning wasn't quite so cold, and after checking her weather app, Abby knew why. Already in the seventies, today was going to be a scorcher. After spending the usual twenty minutes stretching, she pulled on a pair of shorts and a light top. When she went downstairs, Yuki was drinking tea on the couch, listening to the weatherman apologize for the heat.

"You're awake early," she said.

"Didn't I tell you about the tryout thing today?"

"I thought you already had them?"

"We already had the cheerleader ones. This one's for the football team."

Yuki hummed then snapped her fingers. "Oh yes! Now I remember! At the Tokyo Tower, yes?" Abby nodded before entering the kitchen. After a quick breakfast, she grabbed a water and a few snack bars before heading out.

"Later Yuki."

"You know which train to take? You have your pass?"

"Yes, Yuki," she chuckled. "I have my phone, too. I'll be fine."

"Okay. Have a good day!"

"You, too!"

"It's so nice to see you again, Transfer-san! I don't know if you remember me, but my name is Mamori. I'm a part of Deimon's disciplinary committee and manager for the American Football Club."

"You." Her eyes sharpened and the manager flinched. "Yes, I remember you."

The redhead blinked worriedly. "Is... Is something wrong, Transfer-san?"

Abby's mouth twitched. I'M A FUCKING CHEERLEADER BECAUSE OF YOU! Her head screamed. On the outside, she calmly shook her head 'no'. It wasn't Mamori's fault, she reminded herself. It was Hiruma's. If Abigail could be fairly civilized with the demonic quarterback, then she could certainly be civilized with the well-meaning manager. But Heaven forbid the poor girl ask another favor.

"My name is Abby. It is nice to be meeting you, Mamori. Again..."

She smiled. "Let's work hard, Abby-chan! Alright?"

"I can do that." She looked around. "What are we doing?"

"Oh, yes." She turned back to the tub and machine in front of her. "We have to fill this with," something, "from the," something, "machine."

Twenty bucks says that word means 'ice', Abby thought, glancing into the large container halfway full of the stuff. Mamori passed her a scoop and she thanked her. Not wasting any time getting started, the American began shoveling ice from the machine to the tub. The other girl set to work as well, dumping a bag of sugar into a slot in the machine. Abby was confused but didn't ask, mostly because she wasn't entirely sure how to say 'sugar' correctly.

"Why are you here, Mamori?"

"It's the manager's duty to make sure everything's ready before practice."

"No. I know that. I mean to ask... Why are you manager? Are not you busy enough with... committee?"

"Oh! My friend Sena became secretary so I joined as manager to keep him safe. That Hiruma is such a," something, "sometimes!"

"Such a what?"

Mamori repeated the word. After trying to explain it a few different ways, Abby decided the word either meant 'a tyrant' or 'a bully'. With Hiruma, it could honestly go either way.

"I know that, too," she grumbled.

"Oh no! Did he bully you into doing this?"

Abby shook her head. "He bully me into becoming cheerleader captain. He said this was part of that. You remember the policy change Principle said Tuesday?"

Mamori nod.

Abby pointed at herself. "For me." The other girl gasped.

"That whole change was for you? I heard you cheering at the game last weekend, but I didn't think he'd get so worked up over one little cheerleader!"

"You do not know the most of it. I had to change times for me to work after school. Annoying."

"I'm really sorry to hear that, Abby-chan... That Hiruma!" She shook her head before smiling sweetly. "But everyone else on the team is really nice. I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun."

"That is what everyone is saying: I will have fun." She shrugged. "I am going to try hard and keep working. Does not matter what will happen, bad or good."

"That sounds like a difficult way to live."

"I am doing my best, Mamori. Trust me."

Not much later, Hiruma and a large group of boys made their way towards the tower. Abigail was surprised at the number of applicants and realized her help was much more necessary than she'd thought. Mamori had done her best to explain the ice, the sugar, the hellish obstacles within the tower, and their job to refill the bags. Abby wondered how tedious and difficult all that might have been to do alone. As she pondered, the devil teen walked over to a pair of older, fairly professional and very nervous adults. He asked them quick questions and they answered without pause. Not even a minute later, Hiruma was walking back over to the boys and the adults were apologizing to anyone who wished to enter the tower.

"We've got the place booked for the day," he explained, smiling deviously and putting away a black notebook. Abby felt some sweat roll down her neck as she stared up at the tower.

I wonder if he could book an entire amusement park like that...

"Oi, Fucking American." Abby turned to him. "We got enough ice cubes?"

She shrugged. "I could hide a few bodies in here if I had to, yeah."

"Alright, listen up! The rules are simple!" Hiruma cocked his gun and began explaining what Abby already knew as she watched the bullet fly from its chamber.

I wonder if that was an empty casing, or just for dramatic effect? She didn't know much about guns, only the small tidbits she could remember her brother complaining about while still in training. He told her that in movies, when the characters cocked their guns to show how 'serious' they were, they were actually just wasting a perfectly good bullet. Unless it was old fashioned or had already been shot, you didn't actually need to cock a gun before shooting it, he'd said. Hiruma, she mused, with his random, well-hidden, never ending arsenal, must have known that and was just constantly trying to scare people into thinking he'd shoot them. Sena walked over, pulling her back into the moment, and picked up a piece of ice.

"This ice... seems to melt easily…," he said, half of the cube had returned to it's watery state. Mamori gave him an apologetic smile while Abby simply crossed her arms.

"We've added sugar to make them melt faster."

"You are going too, Sena? Good luck."

He waved his hands. "O-Oh no. I'm going to go get Eyeshield 21, then, uh, go up with Kurita-san and Hiruma-san. But thanks anyway, Green-san." She made note of the stutter, but said nothing of it.

"I understand. But please call me Abby. Is annoying to hear 'Green-san' so much. You too, Monta," she told the receiver now walking over. "No more 'Green-san'. Okay? Abby now."

"Sure, Abby-san. Mamori-neechan, could I have some ice?"

She nod. "Of course, Monta-kun. Abby-chan, it seems more are coming over. Would you please help me?"

"Okay."

The short boy made a sound from his nose and Abby stopped.

"This good?"

He nod his head, making a similar noise. She handed him the bag with some difficulty and he hoisted it over his shoulder. He made another sound, like a thank you.

"You are welcome," she said and he trotted off.

"Abby-chan, could you understand that boy?"

"I do not understand much Japanese and he did not say much Japanese." She shrugged. "I did and did not."

"I see... How strange."

"Still?" She asked, becoming more and more concerned with how much ice was being packed into the bag.

"Yes, please," the boy with the shiny forehead persisted. Abby grimaced but continued shoveling.

"You say so..."

After a few more scoops, he said, "I think that should be enough. Thank you."

"You will be good?" She pointed at the bag. "Looks... not easy."

"I'm not very," something. "I know it will take me a long time to get up there. But thank you for your," something, "Transfer-san!" She waved a hand in front of her face and watched skeptically as he tried to hoist the bag over his shoulder. Abby pushed from the bottom of the bag, helping him lift and settle the bag on his back.

"Thank you, Transfer-san," he said with a small bow.

"You are welcome." She watched him walk towards the tower with shaky legs. "Good luck!" She called. He thanked her again over his shoulder.

"I hope Yukimitsu-kunwill be okay," Mamori mumbled. "We've spoken before and he seems very nice."

"I agree."

"YOU!" Abby's head snapped forward. In front of her were three boys in football jerseys: numbers 51, 52, and 53. Her eyebrows rose in surprise. They were the same boys who had chased her earlier in the week. 51 was pointing at her, glaring.

"Oh." He must have been the one she kicked. "How are you? How much ice?"

"What are you doing here?" 52 asked her, not quiet as upset but still visibly so.

"I am cheerleader. Have to help."

"Huh?"

"Huuuh!?"

"HAAAAAH!?" Player 53 got right in Abby's face, so she gave a light smack to his cheek.

"Stop it." He jerked back next to his friends, holding his face like she had slapped with incredible force. "How much ice?" She asked again, refusing to let them get a rise out of her.

Player 51 grumbled something under his breath. She didn't bother trying to understand what, since it certainly had nothing to do with ice. He handed her his bag and after three scoops said it was enough. She did the same for the other two before they leisurely walked towards the tower.

"Those guys don't even care, do they?" She mumbled.

"What was that, Abby-chan?"

"Nothing. Just speaking to me in English."

Less than an hour later, half the people were running back down and begging the girls for more ice, including Monta and player 21. Mamori turned the machine back on while Abigail scooped. Not much later still, the Huh Boys walked back down. Instead of heading for the tub, they walked over to a kiddy ride and took a cigarette break. She rolled her eyes, but sincerely tried not to judge them. And tried even more sincerely to ignore the urge to throw ice cubes at them when the smoke flew into her face.

It was slow around noon, so Mamori went to buy more water. Not much later, Abby got a call from her mother. She hitched the phone between her head and shoulder, and continued shoveling for the random boy or two. Her mom and dad had just finished cleaning up the kitchen from dinner, she was told. They'd had pork chops and mashed potatoes, and of course Dad made it, did she really need to ask? Her mom asked what she was doing, so Abby told her.

"First you leave me, and now you're a cheerleader?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I thought you and your friends didn't like those girls?"

"Well, I talked to them about it and they thought it'd be better then losing everything I've worked for. Besides, it's kinda school policy."

"Your school's forcing you to be a cheerleader? Is that legal?"

"No, no. The school's not forcing me to be a cheerleader."

"No?"

Not technically. "School rules say transfers needs to join at least one club or they can't graduate. So I'm in the football club and I'm their... cheerleader." She shivered.

"Contain your excitement." She could hear her mother's small, teasing smile. "I like that rule. It's a good rule for kids like you who join the year late."

"Seriously? Mom, seriously?"

"What? The school year's nearly over, isn't it?"

"Not here. The school year starts in Spring. Not Fall."

"Well that's great! You're new just like everyone else."

"Not really. Only the first years are new."

"Whatever you say, Abigail." Her mother was probably shaking her head. "What grade are first years in again?"

"10th grade."

"And you're in...?"

"Juniors are in second year. Seniors are third years."

"Almost like those Harry Potter books we used to read you."

"Kinda, I guess. Haven't seen much magic around here though," she mumbled. All at once, a large group of hopefuls poured out of the tower. "Okay, Mom, I gotta go. Stampede's headed this way. Love you guys."

"We love you, too, Abigail. Call us for once."

"'Kay. Bye, Mom." She stuffed the phone back in her pocket as a sweaty boy handed her his bag.

From the tower entrance, the small boy with the reddish nose who hardly spoke ran up to her. They greeted each other briefly, before he started stuffing ice in his bag without help. It was then that the Huh Boys finally came back for more as well, taking one scoop each. In one foul swoop, Shorty hoisted the bag back over his shoulder and Abby's jaw dropped. It was nearly twice his size.

"You... You are okay?" She asked cautiously. He nodded, making a yes-ish sound, before glancing over at the Huh Boys, who also lost their composure at the tiny boy's strength. He eyed their measly one-scoop bags before letting out a single puff of air—a mixture of disappointment and condescendence. Abigail immediately threw her hands over her mouth, fighting down a sudden wave of terrible giggles.

"T-That BASTARD!" On of the Huh Boys screamed. The three of them practically dove into the ice container, grabbing as much as they could before chasing after the shorty. She heard them cursing in unison and broke down laughing. Clutching the tub for support, she could hardly hear Mamori asking what had happened.

Abigail scowled when the balding boy stumbled towards her, bag-less and drenched in sweat.

"What happened?"

He tried to smile, but the overwhelming exhaustion was obvious. "O-Oh, nothing really. I just ran into some trouble. But I need to keep going." Her face darkened and she was about to ask another question when an echo of rapid gunfire and screams caught everyone's attention. Abigail used her hand to block the sun as she squinted up the glimmering, Hellish tower. She humphed before filling a new, bigger bag for the boy.

"Do not worry so much. They will not do well. Not with Hiruma around. He is a jerk, but does not seem like man who agrees with those things."

"Things like what, Transfer-san?" Abigail didn't know how to say 'football-related cheating' in Japanese, since he was obviously fine with other forms of cheating, so she simply shrugged. After another moment, she offered him the bag, filled with as much ice as she could fit. She helped him lift it again before waving him off.

"Do you think something bad happened to him?" Mamori whispered.

"I do not think, I know."

"I see." She shook her head. "Poor Yukimitsu-kun. How could anyone be so cruel?"

She sighed. "I do not know, Mamori. I do not know."

Eventually, a number of boys began to give up. Some threw temper tantrums, shouting it wasn't worth it as they stormed off. Others slugged away, complaining in hushed, bitter voices about the tower being impossible. Mamori's face fell.

"Do not worry," Abby said, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Some are going still. And some have not come down. It will be okay."

She nod. "You're right. I'll continue to do my best."

Only after the streetlights flickered on did they begin to consider joining the others at the top of the tower. Mamori insisted on waiting and Abigail made no attempt to deter her. She simply lifted herself onto the edge of the tub and watched the passersby beyond the fence. Some moving eagerly across the still-warm cement, others slow and aimless in the dark, humid night. A loud sigh broke her daze.

"Mamori?"

"Nothing. Let's join the others, shall we?" She smiled, and Abigail ignored the strain under her skin. They gathered their things and waited another minute before boarding the elevator and directing it to the top observatory. One hand strangled her water bottle, while the other tried to choke the metal hand railing. Her heart hammered incessantly in her chest and ears, drumming out the sound of her own breathing but amplifying the gears and wires pulling them further and further from the ground. The higher they went, the lighter her head and heavier her feet and legs became.

"Are you alright, Abby-chan?"

"I-I..." She cleared her throat. "I am fine. I do not... Do not like being this up. Understand?"

"Yes, I think so. Don't worry, these," somethings," are tested all the time and well taken care of."

Abby nodded, not daring to look anywhere but straight ahead. "You will not tell people, will you, Mamori?"

"Of course not, Abby-chan! We are reaching the top, though. Hiruma-kun might see you like this and use it to bully you."

"I… I will not let him." Shakily, Abigail let go of the railing and moved beside Mamori, in the center of the small area. She took deep breaths as her sweaty palms twisted the plastic bottle in a crinkling melody.

When they reached the top, Mamori took the first step out. "There's no one left down there. Everyone seems to have left." Abby followed, uncapping and recapping the bottle with a bored yet tense face. Hiruma stood, declaring the trial over.

"Just wait one little moment..." Kurita begged.

"You can definitely make is as long as you bring enough ice cubes," Monta mumbled.

"That was the only purpose of this trial," Hiruma explained, picking up his gun. "You will survive as long as you have determination."

"And don't cheat," Abby grumbled, glaring at anything that wasn't a window.

"Abby-chan?" She waved the other girl off.

"Is nothing." At that moment, the door to the lookout flew open and someone fell to the floor, panting. Mamori gasped.

"Yukimitsu-kun!"

"That dude!" The two girls rushed to his side, Sena and Monta not too far behind. Abigail unscrewed her bottle and poured all the water left onto the boy's head and neck. Kurita scooped up his bag and began to poor it into a bucket, while still trying to pay attention to the boy.

"It's all melted," Hiruma said. Abby's nostrils flared and she whipped around to scream at the heartless Demon. But the boy bent over, picking up a single ice cube from an ice shaver, and quickly tossed it into the bucket before she could get so much as a syllable out.

"Oh!" He smiled, pointing out the cube with his gun. "There's still one left! Fucking Baldy passed!" Abigail stared at him, catching his eye with a dumbfounded look, before lighting up like a kid on Christmas.

"Did you hear?! Did you hear?!" She shouted, kneeling closer to the boy. He nodded slowly, somehow managing a very tired, grateful smile. She grinned, proudly patting his back. "Good job, Devilbat!"

"By the way, Abby-san, what are you doing here, anyway?" Monta asked, handing her a bowl of shaved ice. She glared at Hiruma before answering.

"I am cheerleader for Devilbats now."

"Really?! That's great!"

"Humph." She chomped down on a giant spoonful of the frozen treat. It was tragically sweet and nearly melted the moment it touched her tongue.

"But Abby-san, I thought you said you hated cheerleaders..." Sena mumbled. She stared at him for a moment, slowly taking another bite as she dug through her memory.

Funny. I don't remember saying that to you, Sena. She kept that thought to herself.

"I hate me, too, now. Hiruma is a jerk." Monta laughed, patting her on the back. Sena was amazed she'd said such a thing and hadn't burst into flames. If he was listening, Hiruma didn't bother reacting.

"Abby-chan?" She looked up to find Mamori smiling down at her. "May I have your phone number, please?"

"Yes." Standing, she tentatively began to recite her number in Japanese. "I think is correct. May I see?"

"It's right," Hiruma said, not even looking up from his computer.

"Don't go memorizing my number without permission, Devil boy!"

He only grinned at the screen in front of him.

This felt long to me, guys. Did this feel long to you? 'Cause it felt long to meeeeee. Hope you liked it! :)