So, I need your help with some ideas… Mainly for Hiruma. I'll tell you all about it at the end of the chapter, but right now, I need to vent:
Wtf is wrong with ff-net's Doc Manager? I can't be the only one having problems uploading stories. Eventually I found a way to upload this chapter by only copy and pasting FOUR. LINES. At a TIME. Which is absolute bullshit. If this problem isn't solved by the next time I'm ready to update a story, I'll probably just move all of my work to my AO3 account and continue from there. Hopefully everything will be fixed by then (it's quite a long window of time considering how long I take to update), but we'll see.
Anyway, please enjoy this chapter. I've been sitting on it for so long, it feels good to finally shove it out into the world. :)
"American-san! Wait for me!"
Abby paused at the school's entrance, loud music spouting from the earbud dangling by her shoulder. Her eyes skipped from face to face trying to find one she knew. A hand tentatively rose from within the depths and she followed it down to the small figure. The boy smiled and smoothed his brown hair as he walked towards her.
"Good morning, Ren. You forget my name?"
"No, of course not! I simply wasn't sure how to address you." He grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."
She snickered, putting her iPod away. "You are not good at to be sure."
"Um… Yes. Forgive me, I knew I should have gone with," Something, "instead. I'll call you," Something, "from now on."
"You will call me what?"
The lines on his face pulled back in horror. "Is that too strange? I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to–"
"No, no," she said putting up her hands. "I do not know that word. What is it?"
"O-Oh. Yes, um, it means… um…" He cleared his throat. "In English, I believe it is: Captain."
Her eyes lit up. "Do you speak English, Ren?" She asked in her own tongue.
"A little," he mumbled, his cheeks turning pink as he twiddled his thumbs. "I have… five in English class."
"A five's like an A, right? Sweet! That makes things a whole lot easier for me."
"Um… That… um… What is easy?"
"Sorry. I said: will be easy for us speaking. But seems it will not be."
"Oh." He bowed. "Forgive me, Green-san."
She shrugged opening her shoe locker. "My Japanese is okay. Is not so important. Don't need to ask forgive me so much."
"Um… 'Ask for forgiveness'?"
"Yes. Forgive me. Thank you."
"Of course, Captain. Or should I call you Senpai? O-Or maybe Green-san?"
"Captain is good." She closed the locker. "Can you help me with a job?"
"Of course! What do you need, Captain?"
She pulled a sheet of paper from her bag. "I have cheerleader names, but do not know what to do. Do you know?"
"Do I know what to do with them? Honestly, no." He held out his hands. "But I know who to ask, so leave it to me."
"Thank you, Ren," she said handing it to him, then pat his shoulder. "Already, you are very helpful."
He beamed. "T-Thank you, Captain. I'll do my best!"
The school bell rang, signaling a welcomed end to fourth period. Abigail finished writing in her planner—the words Cal Worthington High School on the cover in big teal and gold print—and packed her things. Her class had Japanese next but, because it wasn't her first language, Abby reported to a tutor during the period instead.
Ito-sensei was a young and eager English teacher, only a few years older than most of her students. Abby thought she was kind but had a hard time understanding her students needs.
"Good morning, Green-san," she said slower than necessary. "How are you today?"
"I am good. I am hungry. How are you?"
"I am well, thank you," she said allowing her student into the office she and a few other teachers shared. She sat down at her desk as Abigail grabbed a folding chair from beside the cabinet and sat in front of her. "Today we are going to work on your writing."
Fighting down a groan, Abigail fluttered her eyelids and softly cleared her throat.
"First, write down all of the hiragana characters in order. Second, write down all the katakana characters beneath them. Do you understand, Green-san?"
"Yes, sensei." She pulled out her red notebook, flipped it to the first clean page and copied down the different characters for the millionth time.
"Good work, Green-san. Now, spell the following words as I say them… 'Run'. 'Stand'. 'Sleeping'. Very good. Now, 'Night'." 'Something'. 'Something'. "And finally, 'Day'. Very good. Now–"
"Sensei," she forced in. "What did I write?"
Ito-sensei twitched. It always took her a moment to respond when Abby spoke during a lesson. Whether she was gathering answers or just startled, Abby was never sure.
Finally, she asked, "Can you not read what you've written, Green-san?"
"Yes, I can read. But—"
"Then read it for me now."
"But my… Do not I need help with the reading."
"Green-san, I cannot help you if you do not do as I ask. Please read what you've written."
Abigail sighed. "Run, stand, sleeping, night, 'ku-ro-ee', 'she-ro-ee', day."
Ito-sensei nodded her head after each word. "Very good, Green-san. Your pronunciation needs work, but it's acceptable."
"But what I am saying?"
"Yes. What you're saying is correct, and most should be able to understand you."
Abby stared at the woman before her. "What?"
"Does that not answer your…" Ito-sensei took in a deep breath. "What… is… your… question?"
"Uh… I do not know the words."
"You know the words, Green-san." She tapped the notebook with her pen. "You just wrote them down and read them on your own."
"No—yes, I did. But no. I—" she huffed and made circles with her wrists. "I do not understand."
"What isn't to understand? You did as I asked. You did well!"
"No, I—Yes, but, no. I cannot understand in English."
"I…" Ito-sensei shook her head, becoming more frustrated. "I'm sorry, Green-san, but I don't understand your question. I haven't asked you to translate anything."
Abigail loudly exhaled through her nostrils before straightening her spine. "Nothing. Is nothing. Continue, please."
Ito-sensei's eyes darted from Abigail's face, to the notebook, and back again. "Do you understand… whatever it was?"
"Yes, I understand. My mistake. Continue."
"Oh, good. I was worried." She smiled. "You are very good at answering your own questions, Green-san. Is that common in America?"
She sucked her teeth but quickly forced a grin. "Sensei. Please, continue."
"Yes, of course. Write out these words…"
Abigail pushed more force against her ears, desperate to keep the noise from destroying her eardrums. The recorders were hitting all the screeching notes, two boys kept trying to bash their drums in, and those God-awful sting instruments—some terrible contraption she couldn't even begin to pronounce—were undoubtably Satan's finest creation.
She squinted at the clock. Five minutes. Only five more minutes of torture. She set her chin in one hand and drummed her fingers across the table with the other. Her digits found the beat of the so-called music with ease but her brain was too busy throbbing to create a proper thought. When it finally stopped, Abby leaned onto the hind legs of her chair and whispered, "Praise Jesus."
Several boys were sent to the music room to put away the instruments while the rest of the class was released for lunch a few minutes early. Abigail crossed her arms and watched her classmates group their desks together or walk out in small numbers. She shut her eyes and listened to the sound of their movements and conversations.
Once the lunch bell rang, she could almost swear she was back at her school in America. Echoing footfalls, idle chatter, and a random kid shrieking somewhere down the hall. Yes, if she just relaxed and took away her focus, Deimon and Worthington sounded almost identical.
"Abby-chan, are you—H-Hiruma-kun!"
Abigail's eyes snapped open at the devil teen's name and found the barrel of a gun staring back at her.
"JESUS!" Her arms spastically pin-wheeled as her chair dipped back further. The tip of her foot caught the desk's edge and she maneuvered her chair back on four legs. But not without striking her knee against her desk. Rubbing the knee gingerly, she glared at the devil teen smiling down at her from his perch.
"Slacking in school, Fucking American? What would your mother say?"
"I wasn't slacking!" She snapped. "I was trying to get rid of my headache and you gave me a bruised knee!"
"If you're going to be so fucking cranky," he said sliding off the desk in front of hers, "maybe we'll just be on our way."
"Are you alright, Abby-chan?" Kurita asked taking a cautious step forward.
"Yes," she huffed. "I am fine. No thank you to Hiruma."
"Sorry," he said smiling.
Abby cocked a brow at him. "Kurita, why you are ask for forgiveness?" She jabbed a finger in Hiruma's direction. "He is one who should."
Hiruma scoffed. "What planet do you live on?"
"Earth, last time I checked. But I guess I could've been transported to Pluto or something while I wasn't looking. These things happen."
"Pluto's not a planet, dumbass."
"Whatever, douchebag."
Hiruma opened his mouth and got half a word out before a low, loud rumble cut him off. The gentle giant beside them shyly covered his stomach.
"Was that you, Fucking Fatty?"
"Kurita, are you hungry? You must eat."
He nodded. "Actually, that's why we're here. We came to ask if you would like to join us for lunch."
"I…" Abby sent a quick glance between them. She noted that most of her classmates were either huddled at the other end of the room or running out. "I can join?"
"Of course!"
Hiruma groaned and moved through the doorway. "Hurry up! I don't plan on wasting my entire lunch on you idiots."
"Hey, wait a sec!"
Abby snatched up her things, thinking she might have to rush after them, but Kurita waited by the door until she was ready. They caught up with Hiruma in the stairwell who picked up his leisurely pace once they reached the ground floor. A group of girls by the front door scampered aside as he approached and a boy all but hurtled himself to get out of the way.
Abigail watched everyone's muscles clench as the devil teen came near, then relax once he'd gone past. She wondered how on earth she'd managed to ignore his presence for as long as she did. The more she looked, the more she realized most of Deimon's students were in a constant state of alert. Eyes and ears scanning the room, arms and legs tense. Ready to identify and get away from the Devil as quickly as possible at any given moment. She wondered if her eyes were beginning to lose their edge and frowned at the possibility. She needed to practice more.
"Hey Hiruma, what do," she paused, preparing her lips, "'ku-ro-ee' and 'she-ro-ee' mean?"
"Don't you know anything?"
She crossed her arms. "Well I certainly don't know everything, Mr. Smarty-Pants."
"You mocking me, Fucking American?"
"I'm not mocking you. I'm teasing you. That's what friends do, you know."
"Since when are you and I friends?"
"Since about two seconds ago." Hiruma entered the clubhouse first and Kurita let her go in second. She shared a quick greeting with Monta and Sena, sitting beside the former, and turned to the head of the table. "I'll forget all about you bruising my knee if you tell me."
"I didn't do shit to your fucking knee."
"Not directly, but you brought upon the action that caused me to hit my knee. So it's still technically your fault."
"What a shame," he patronized in Japanese, pulling out his laptop. "Looks like I can't speak fucking English anymore."
"Jerk." She pulled out her lunch grumbling and took a large bite out of her sandwich.
"What kinda sandwich is that, Abby-san?" Monta asked, leaning closer towards it. Still wrangling with the peanut butter in her mouth, Abby cracked the sandwich open. He tilted his head and gave it a funny look. "I love bananas, but I'd never eat 'em with peanut cream."
"Peanut cream?" Abby glanced around the room. "What is peanut cream? This is peanut butter."
"Butter?" Monta, Sena, and Kurita all shared an unsure look.
Abby torn off a piece and held it out to Monta. "Would you like?"
"Sure. I guess I'll try it." He studied it carefully, taking a good sniff before putting it anywhere near his mouth, then scrunched his nose. The others watched him carefully, as if this experiment would impact lunches everywhere for eons to come. Abby cocked a brow at them and took another bite.
She was beginning to forget what it was like to come face to face with foreign foods. The first time they came to Japan, Abby and her parents could hardly stomach the food. She could still recall the way the textures and tastes clashed with what her tongue was accustomed to, and how sick it made her. Never in her life had she craved a proper cheeseburger as much as she had during that first week.
A loud monkey-like shriek startled her.
"Iz shtuck!" Monta shrieked, trying to fight the smooth, pasty texture stuck to the roof of his mouth.
Abby laughed, gaining nervous looks from around the table. She ripped off another piece, and offered it towards Sena and Kurita who both politely declined.
Monta gagged. "That's"—he smacked his tongue—"disgusting! How can you eat that?"
Abby offered Hiruma the piece and tossed it into her mouth when he refused.
"It is good. My favorite lunch." She laughed again at the looks they gave her, a strange mixture of awe and disgust, and shook her head before starting on her apple slices. She offered Monta one, knowing the juice would help wash down any remnants of the peanut butter, but he immediately put up his hands.
"No thanks. I'll stick with my own lunch from now on."
Abby shrugged and popped that in her mouth too. Once she finished eating, she rested her head in her hand and listened to the conversation around her. She focused on the sound of the words instead of the meaning. Her tongue could replicate the language well enough, but not entirely. There was always a strain, an obnoxious accent she couldn't separate herself from.
A bell rang outside the clubhouse signaling the end of lunch. Abby picked up her bag and returned to the main building with her friends. She and Kurita said their short goodbyes to Sena and Monta before following Hiruma up to the second floor.
"So," she moved alongside him, "how long did it take for you to learn English so well?"
"Not long."
"How long did it take for you to speak it the way you do now? Like, so naturally?"
He shrugged. "A while."
"You are insanely unhelpful today."
"You expecting something else, Fucking American?"
"No need to get so defensive. My Japanese still needs a lot of work, but your English is phenomenal. I was just curious how you did it, that's all." Upon reaching her classroom, she gave them a quick goodbye.
"See you later, Abby-chan."
"Black and white."
She gave Hiruma a long, confused stare as he walked down the hall. "Is that your version of expect the unexpected?" She shouted after him. "'Cause it needs work!" He disappeared in a doorway and Abby rolled her eyes.
She frowned as a coworker set another tub of dirty dishes beside her. She sighed and began to scrape the left over food into the garbage and rise everything off. Glaring at the dishwasher's timer, she picked up the emptied tub and put it with all the rest.
"Green-san, please clear table six!"
"Okay!" She sighed again, grabbing the container she'd just set down.
Keeping her head down, she left the kitchen and maneuvered through the sea of customers. She set the dishes in the tub and wiped the table down with practiced precision. Laughter erupted from the counter where Mr. Williams, the restaurant's owner, was telling another corny joke to some of his regulars.
"–so I say to him, Different? Friend, they're more different than 'kuroi' and 'shiroi'!" Abby's ears perked at the words. The old American howled at his joke while his friends chuckled and raised their glasses to him. He caught her staring and waved her over.
"Miss Green-chan," he bellowed. "Don't be shy. Is there something you need?"
"Um… No. I am… That is… Uh… You know I am learning Japanese. Your joke I did not understand. Please, will you explain?"
He turned back to the men at the counter. "Excuse us. We're going to be speaking English now."
The men nodded. One raised his glass and said, "Not to worry. Everyone in the world can't be lucky enough to speak Japanese from birth."
"Yes," another said. "And only the truly lucky don't have to deal with Ed's humor!"
Mr. Williams guffawed and slapped the grinning man on the shoulder before waving Abigail behind the counter.
"Sorry about interrupting, Mr. Williams, but I was just wondering—"
"No need to be sorry, Miss Green," he said placing more dishes into her bin. "You're still learning the language business."
"Right, well, in your joke, you said the words… uh… 'ku-ro-ee' and 'she-ro-ee', and I was just wondering what those meant."
He raised one of his thick, grey brows. "You've been here how long, again?"
"Uh… About—"
"They mean black and white, respectively. Aren't the colors one of the first things they teach you?"
"Well, I sort of skipped—Wait. Black and…? Oh. Oh, then he was… Ohhhh. Okay. Got it now. Thank you, sir!" She turned away, paused, turned back to give him a nod-like bow, then hurried back to the kitchen. Abby set the tub down next to the sink and pulled out her phone.
'Btw thanks for answering my question earlier :) '
She only had the chance to wash out a single cup before she felt her phone buzz.
'Did you only just figure it out?'
Abigail pouted. 'No! Of course not! I've just been busy at work.'
'You can't even lie when you text. That's just fucking sad.'
'You're impossible.'
'You're slow as fuck.'
'You're a jerk.'
'Whatever fucking cheerleader.'
'Yeah okay I'll see you tomorrow Mr. Smarty-Pants. :P '
Hey reader, would you send me some of your Eyeshield 21 headcanons? I could never really find a group of Eyeshield 21 lovers to converse and swap thoughts with, so I don't really know much about what others think and expect of the canon characters.
To be honest, I'm mostly curious about what other people think about Hiruma and his father/family. I have a few ideas but I'm not really sure which direction to go in with this story. It would mean a lot if you'd tell me your ideas. Any other thoughts/theories would be equally appreciated! :)