Chapter Text
Foreword: This one-shot is in two parts, and contains snippets of interactions between the original three Deimon Devil Bats (Hiruma, Kurita, and Musashi) and Mamori. While all four of them are in the same year, there are very few instances in the manga that show that they have interacted with one another. Therefore, this story is meant to embellish or create instances where they may have encountered one another before Musashi’s absence.
Act 1 – Kurita
Kurita really didn’t intend for his day to begin with a standoff with a Disciplinary Committee Officer.
When Hiruma had shoved a giant pile of posters in his arms with the command, “Fucking fatty, quit dicking around and stuffing your face with sweets, hang up these recruitment posters instead!”, Kurita had immediately wolfed down his cake and tea and proceeded to do exactly what Hiruma had asked with immense enthusiasm. After all, they did need to enlist at least 11 players for their team to even enter the tournament, and his desperate passion for playing football was hardly enough to sustain a team. Hiruma was the one with the brains and the means to pull together a team, to gather funding and equipment through immoral means, to plan formations and plays, and to “convince” (but really browbeat) people into joining their team to achieve the goal of the Christmas Bowl.
The first day at school had been an interesting change from their days at Mao Middle School. No terrified and furtive glances, no panicked screaming, and no desperate attempts to flee the scene when Hiruma approached. It only took three days for that illusion to shatter completely as Hiruma began his reign of terror and coercion over the entire high school. Musashi had been bemused, but still did absolutely nothing to temper the cackling maniacal high schooler, and Kurita had been both awed and terrified by Hiruma’s ability to amass so much infamy and power in such a short period of time. However, he did admit that it often worked to their advantage, as one could get away with so much more when you had the devil on your side. In fact, after their junior high years of watching Hiruma’s outlandish behavior and pure talent at flaunting the rules of…well, everything but football, Kurita and Musashi had become a little used to being able to get away with almost anything with no consequence, knowing that Hiruma would probably use his little black Devil’s Handbook of Threats (which seemed to have limitless pages and information for such a small notebook) to bend the rules anyway.
Except for now, of course, as he guiltily glanced at the auburn-haired girl that stood before him with a bright blue accusatory gaze, the armband loudly declaring her position as a disciplinary committee even without her explicitly saying so. “Excuse me, do you have permission to put up these posters?” she asked reproachfully, her eyes wandering towards the rows of posters he had already pasted onto the walls, overenthusiastically covering other recruitment posters, and the pile of rolled posters that lay on the ground, waiting to be hung.
In all honesty, Kurita had zero idea whether Hiruma had reached out to any of their superiors for approval, although more likely than not, Hiruma probably couldn’t have cared less to even request for authorization of any kind, at least not at a high school level. The word “permission” was practically a forbidden word in his friend’s vocabulary (unless you were asking Hiruma for permission – that was completely acceptable). However, he was pretty sure that the girl in front of him wouldn’t necessarily appreciate that answer. “Um…well…you see…”
She sighed, clearly able to read between the lines of his evasive stammering, but he gratefully noted that the accusatory gleam in her eyes diminished into a more maternal and patient look that flooded him with relief.
“You do realize you need permission to hang up these recruitment posters, just like any other club in this school, right? However, if you come with me, I can talk to the teachers and the student committee and help you get their approval.”
Kurita’s apprehension melted away into gratitude, appreciative that she wasn’t asking him to actually pull down any of his posters, and thankful that she was willing to help him after all. “Really? Thank you so much…um…”
She smiled, her eyes lighting up at his politeness and happiness, and he was surprised to see just how kind and gentle her expression was. “Anezaki Mamori,” she responded with a small bow. “I can’t help but think I’ve seen you before, but I don’t believe I know your name?”
“Kurita Ryokan! I don’t think we’ve met before, but it’s nice to meet you Anezaki-san!” he exclaimed happily, bowing in return. “Thank you so much for offering to help!”
“No problem, Kurita-kun!” She glanced over at one of the posters he had just put up before leaning down to help him gather the rolls of posters that were strewn about around his feet. “The Amefuto Club…?”
“Yes! We’re aiming for the high school championship game – The Christmas Bowl! Do you know anyone interested in joining a new sports team?” Kurita’s heart soared with passion and enthusiasm as it always did whenever he spoke about football. “We only have three members so far – me, Hiruma, and Musashi – and we need at least 11 teammates to enroll for the championship games, so if you know anyone who is interested in playing American Football, send them our way!”
Kurita turned to Mamori eagerly with that last request, only to realize that she had returned to staring at the poster intently again. “The Amefuto…oh! I remember where I’ve seen you!” She abruptly whirled around to face him, that censorious gleam resurfacing in her eyes again much to Kurita’s dismay. “You and your friends put football décor all around the entrance exam room, and even got the exam proctor to ask people to join the club – people were absolutely terrified of all three of you! How did you get away with all of that as middle-schoolers?”
“Fucking blackmail.”
Kurita jumped in surprise, having been so focused on Mamori that he failed to notice his friend had, at some point during their conversation, stealthily sauntered over to catch the tail end of their discussion. Kurita felt a healthy dose of pity for Mamori, who was probably even more taken aback, seeing as Hiruma uttered those words just inches away from her ear, his spiky hair grazing her face lightly with the action. However, despite the flinch of surprise she gave, her defiant stance itself refused to buckle, her disapproving gaze merely shifting from Kurita to Hiruma as her ire grew.
“Excuse me?” she countered icily, all that previous gentleness and kindness from moments ago slipping away, leaving behind a polite but cold demeanor. “Blackmail?”
“You have a problem with that, fucking disciplinary committee officer?” sneered Hiruma condescendingly, invading her personal space even more and drawing himself to full height, his trademark AK-47 resting on his shoulder as he menacingly loomed above her. Kurita was surprised to see that in spite of the threat that Hiruma so clearly posed, Mamori still seemed unrelenting, not having moved an inch since Hiruma had made his presence known.
“Yes, I do,” she declared firmly, finally moving, but only to cross her arms in yet another act of defiance against Hiruma, refusing to buckle despite Hiruma’s encroaching behavior. “It’s unfair for you to simply get everything you want or need for your club through these blackmail attempts of yours! You can seek permission to hang your posters, just like everyone else in this school. Surely that isn’t such a difficult task for you to manage.”
Privately, Kurita wondered if Hiruma could even conceive of asking for permission – perhaps it was a more strenuous task for him than Mamori could even imagine – but Hiruma simply responded with that trademark cackle of his, which Mamori seemed wholly unamused by.
“Kekekekeke! Why the hell should I ask for permission if I don’t need to? Isn’t that a waste of my time otherwise?” Hiruma turned to Kurita, snatching a few of the posters from his slack hands and slapping them up onto the wall. “Go ahead and report me, and see whether anyone gives a damn!”
“I will do exactly that, and even if no one else keeps tabs on your actions, I most certainly will!” she replied furiously. However, before she left, she quickly glanced at Kurita, an almost apologetic look in her eyes. “Kurita-kun, it was nice to meet you. Please don’t pick up any bad habits from your friend.”
As she turned around and marched away (probably to report Hiruma to someone, although based on previous experience, Kurita highly doubted anything would come of her attempts), she passed Musashi, who was casually leaning against the wall, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a slight grin.
“Musashi! How long have you been here?” Kurita asked, curious as to whether he had witnessed the scene between Mamori and Hiruma, living proof that not everyone was so easily threatened by their demonic friend.
“Long enough,” Musashi replied, his smile widening as he turned to Hiruma. “So, you found someone who didn’t flee in frantic panic at the mere sight of you…interesting.”
“Tch…you mean fucking annoying,” Hiruma sneered as he glanced down the hallway in the direction that Mamori had gone. However, before Kurita or Musashi could comment further, his leg shot out towards the pile of rolled posters that lay on the floor, nearly forgotten amidst the confrontation. With a swift kick, he sent all the posters pelting towards Kurita and Musashi. “If you shitty hens have time to gossip, then make better use of your time and hang up the rest of these posters! We don’t have all fucking day!”
“You could hang some posters too Hiruma,” Kurita pointed out plaintively. “Shouldn’t we all work together to recruit new members for the team?”
“Kekekekeke, the posters are just one way of getting some new slaves for the team,” explained Hiruma conspiratorially, and Kurita cringed as the tiny yet deadly Devil’s Handbook of Threats was withdrawn from Hiruma’s pocket with such malicious glee that you could practically feel Hiruma’s devilish aura permeating the air. “With tried and true blackmail, or some assistance from Cerberus, we’ll have plenty of new recruits in no time!”
Hiruma’s cackling echoed through the hallway as he sauntered off, leaving Musashi and Kurita with the immense pile of posters that still needed to be posted on the walls. They both glanced at each other with a helpless shrug, knowing full well that there really was no stopping Hiruma, especially when he was in the throes of lording his immense bank of knowledge and power over others.
Still, as Kurita and Musashi divided the posters among themselves and went their separate ways to continue their recruitment efforts, Kurita couldn’t help but think of Mamori, the first person outside of Musashi and himself who really stood up to Hiruma without an ounce of fear despite not knowing his character, a girl with as righteous and angelic an air as Hiruma’s was sinister and demonic. He wondered if Hiruma and Mamori would ever cross paths again, and if so, how their next battle would turn out.
Act 2 – Musashi
“Anezaki-san, please help us! He’s a demon, and he must be stopped!”
Musashi stopped in his tracks before he could turn the corner of the hallway, instead choosing to lean against the wall and keep out of sight to avoid being drawn into yet another conversation about Hiruma. The recruitment posters had not drawn a lot of excitement, much to Kurita’s dismay, although Musashi had already predicted this lack of interest considering Deimon’s lack of history or background with American Football. Unfortunately for the student population, their tepid response only incited their trigger-happy colleague’s fervor to turn to blackmail, Cerberus attacks, or just browbeating people for adding members to their roster, mainly recruits from other sports teams that already had some degree of skill that could be potentially useful for football.
And unfortunately, as the story of a student fearlessly facing off with the devil himself had spread across the school like wildfire, this meant that Anezaki Mamori was constantly badgered and beleaguered by her peers to help them with their Hiruma-sized issues. Musashi even remembered seeing her at the forefront of a posse of students, her arms crossed as she scolded Hiruma for his antics (Hiruma had been largely unbothered and just stood there grinning around his bubblegum with his AK-47 resting on his shoulders. Seeing as all the students involved in the protest save for Anezaki either called in sick or fled in the mere presence of Hiruma the following day, Musashi was certain that the Devil’s Handbook had been hard at work after the mini-protest). However, Anezaki was always solicitous enough to assist her peers without ever seeming exasperated or annoyed at their requests. Even now, she seemed very kind and understanding with the hyperventilating student that had practically accosted her in his desperation.
“Ishida senpai, please take a few breaths to calm yourself,” she implored gently, giving the student some time to compose himself before continuing. “Okay, now how can I help you? I can only assume based on your explanation that the matter pertains to Hiruma-kun.”
“He’s a menace Anezaki-san! You know he’s stealing members from clubs and forcing them to play football, and now he’s trying to steal some of my basketball players! They are frightened for their lives, but he has some sort of evil power over them because they’ve been skipping some basketball practices to attend football practice, and-”
“Oi, fucking old man, are you so damn tired from just walking around the hallways that you had to pause to catch your breath? Why the hell are you just leaning here?”
Musashi’s focus on Ishida and Anezaki was immediately shattered, but he found it somewhat amusing that you only had to speak of the devil, and the devil himself would appear. In response to Hiruma’s question, Musashi simply jerked his head toward the pair of students who were completely unaware of Hiruma’s presence, as evidenced by Ishida’s continued ranting.
“-so you see, I desperately need your help! We need all the help we can get when confronting the devil!”
Hiruma’s annoyed expression blossomed into an evil grin, and before Musashi could even ask what had triggered such demonic joy in his friend, Hiruma immediately turned the corner to step out into the open, his AK-47 resting casually against his shoulder as he began laugh.
“Kekekekekeke! Do you think it’s wise to confront the fucking devil?”
“EEEEEE!” Ishida threw his hands up in the air and fled as if Cerberus was nipping at his heels (which for all Musashi knew, might have actually happened to Ishida in the past). Anezaki stared after Ishida with a perplexed expression, but after he disappeared into the distance, she turned to Hiruma with a belligerent glance.
“Hiruma-kun, was that really necessary?” she scolded, hands on her hips as she met his gaze. “And how many times will I have to field complaints about you forcing members from other teams to join your American Football team?”
“He was a fucking coward if he ran away screaming like a little girl – note I didn’t give a damn about asking him to join the team,” Hiruma cackled. “And as for your question, as many as I need to fill my roster.”
Anezaki sighed exasperatedly. “You can’t just force people to join your team – you could ask them nicely, or maybe even show them how the sport is played for them to gain interest, but why would you even want people who don’t have any passion for the game on your team?”
“Kekekekeke, are you fucking deaf? I already said why, so use your smarts to figure it out yourself.” Hiruma grinned widely upon seeing Anezaki’s eyes narrow in annoyance, but before she could say anything, Hiruma readjusted the gun that was resting on his shoulder and began to walk away, still cackling as she stared at his retreating back.
Musashi chose that moment to push away from the wall and make his presence known. “Don’t mind him Anezaki.”
“Musashi-kun! How long have you been here?” she exclaimed curiously, slightly taken aback by his sudden presence.
“Long enough,” he replied succinctly, leaning his head slightly as he picked his ear with his pinky. Anezaki’s surprise immediately transformed into annoyance, and Musashi was somewhat amused at how quickly her good-natured attitude seemed to evaporate around him, Kurita, and Hiruma, although Hiruma often bore the brunt of her annoyance due to his many antics.
“Hiruma-kun is your friend,” she pointed out emphatically. “I will confess, I don’t entirely understand how someone as sweet as Kurita-kun or as level-headed as you have such a close friendship with him, but surely, as his friends, you both should do something to rein him in, or at least keep him from terrorizing everyone else.”
Musashi chuckled. “I don’t think Kurita’s capable of interfering with Hiruma’s schemes, and in all honesty, do you think Kurita and I have any power over Hiruma’s machinations? But really, we all became friends because we liked each other’s personalities and outlook on life, so why would I ask him to change?”
Anezaki sighed, seemingly accepting defeat on the front of getting Musashi’s assistance in the matter. “Very well Musashi-kun, I can’t depend on you or Kurita-kun for help in this regard, can I?”
“I suppose not,” Musashi conceded. “However, what I don’t understand is why you always agree to help out the students though. Do you really enjoy arguing with Hiruma?”
“Of course not!” declared Anezaki, wrinkling her nose as if she was deeply offended by Musashi’s somewhat teasing, somewhat probing question. “It’s just…Hiruma-kun is constantly bullying the student population, and from what I’ve learned in the past, the best way to face a bully is not to cower in fear at what he may or may not do to you, but to face him head on, to show him that despite all his intimidation tactics and violent endeavors, you aren’t terrified.”
Musashi stared at Anezaki for a moment, wondering when and how a typically gentle and kind person like her became a pillar of strength for so many of her peers, but before he could say anything, the bell chimed, and Anezaki smiled before turning to him with a slight bow.
“Time for class. Have a good day Musashi-kun!”
As Anezaki walked away, Musashi couldn’t help but admire the fact that unlike the rest of the student population, she seemed to be made of sterner stuff, and had absolutely no compunctions about facing off with Hiruma, or any bully, for that matter.
However, as he walked to class, his thoughts came upon another revelation of sorts – of course Anezaki was constantly standing up to Hiruma at her peers’ request, but more surprising was that Hiruma actually deigned to butt heads with her, considering how quickly he dismissed the rest of the student committee. And honestly, Anezaki hardly went out of her way to oppose Hiruma – most (if not all) of the times she actively argued with Hiruma were either direct confrontations started by Hiruma or on behalf of her peers, fervent requests from those who lacked the courage to challenge Hiruma lest they provoke his ire, but were perfectly willing to offer up someone else as a sacrifice. Of course, it was the power of the Devil’s Handbook or his intimidation tactics that made the student committee hide in his presence, but then…why hadn’t Hiruma tried anything of the sort with Anezaki?
Later in the afternoon, when he entered the storage shed that served as their clubhouse to see Hiruma already there mulling over some training plans, he decided to indulge his ruminations. “Hiruma, you seem to constantly find yourself facing off against Anezaki,” Musashi bluntly pointed out, his curiosity finally winning over enough to actually discuss the female disciplinary committee officer with his friend rather than stand on the sidelines watching in bemusement. While his friendship with Hiruma was still rather nascent, he had noted that Hiruma didn’t notice women the way so many of their peers did – in fact, he seemed to rarely acknowledge their existence, save for Anezaki due to their frequent confrontations. Although perhaps after seeing Agon and Hiruma side by side, maybe Musashi simply hadn’t noticed Hiruma’s interest in women compared to Agon’s insane and relentless womanizing.
“Tch. She’s fucking annoying,” muttered Hiruma, breaking Musashi’s minor reverie. “One day she’ll get the hint and stop rearing her head into amefuto matters.”
Given that it was really her classmates that were banking on Mamori’s kindness and good-naturedness to assist them with all Hiruma-related matters, Musashi highly doubted that Mamori would back down so easily when her peers were so dependent on her, so Musashi continued to press the matter. “Why didn’t you blackmail her or terrorize her like you did the other committee members? I don’t see any of them protesting any of your actions anymore, only Anezaki.”
Hiruma cackled lightly. “What’s this old man? Why are you such a fucking chatterbox today? If you have that much energy, then go to the field and practice the shit out of your kicking!”
As Hiruma turned and walked away, still laughing, it finally dawned on Musashi that perhaps Hiruma didn’t have an upper hand in the Anezaki situation. Hiruma after all, could choose to not to blackmail people or threaten them with some form of insane violence – Musashi was living proof of that scenario – but it seemed like he considered coercion to be an easy and simple way of controlling those around him. However, if there was someone who simply didn’t have any sort of sordid secrets or scandals that could be used against them, and seemed to ignore the violent threat he posed, then what? Despite not knowing the girl well, Musashi had already gathered that she was a kind, motherly sort, got excellent grades in every subject save for art (in which her skills were deplorable at best), and had a notorious sweet tooth, which was especially prominent when it came to Kariya cream puffs. He couldn’t recall a single deep, dark, sordid secret or rumor about Anezaki that could be too embarrassing for her to reveal to the public, and if even Hiruma, with his extensive network and endless connections, couldn’t dig up any dirt about the girl, then what other option did he have other than continuing to face off with her?
Musashi couldn’t help but chuckle as he began to pull on his gear. Perhaps it was worth his while to keep his eye on both Hiruma and Anezaki and see how that battle would continue as the year progressed...
Act 3 – Hiruma
“Hiruma-kun!”
Hiruma clicked his tongue in annoyance the second he recognized the voice that was calling out to him, one that was all too familiar. Hell, didn’t those pipsqueaks have anything better to do than rattle off their pathetic woes off to a fucking disciplinary committee officer? And it was always that fucking mother hen, Little Miss Perfect Anezaki Mamori that they ran to, apparently the only officer with enough gumption to actually speak to him without cowering or stammering in fear. He briefly contemplating simply walking away and ignoring her, but seeing as the one time he had attempted to ignore her simply seemed to encourage her to barrel towards him with even more vim and vigor, he decided just dealing with her outright would be the best approach.
“Oi, fucking disciplinarian, what the hell is your problem with me now?” he called out with a wide, mocking grin as he turned around, shifting his AK-47 to his other shoulder as he did so. Of course, as usual, she completely disregarded the presence of the weapon (after finding herself unable to get him to stop carrying artillery around, she simply seemed to pretend his arsenal of weapons didn’t exist, which was fucking impressive considering how gutless her peers were).
“Hiruma-kun, Ishida-senpai just came to me in hysterics-”
“He’s always fucking hysterical, so what’s new?” Hiruma interrupted callously, but she simply continued to speak around him, the slight rolling of her eyes the only acknowledgement of her irritation with his interruption.
“He regaled me with many tales of your unfairly appropriating equipment and funds from his team, and others sports teams as well! Hiruma-kun, it’s bad enough that you’re forcing people to join your team-”
“Who said they’re being forced? They’ll gleefully tell you that they joined the team of their own fucking accord!” Hiruma declared with a triumphant cackle.
“Yes, they definitely will say that while you have a gun pointed at their back!” Mamori fumed with exasperation, definitely fed up with Hiruma’s constant interruptions and “reinterpretations” of reality. “Stop interrupting me to distract me from the matters on hand – you need to cease siphoning funds and equipment from the other sports teams!”
“It’s not siphoning if it’s given to you willingly, so I think the words you are looking for are “accepting donations”, fucking student officer,” Hiruma smugly corrected.
“No, I used the correct words, because I’m quite sure that you blackmailed the teams and their members for equipment and funds. Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong,” Mamori countered, and Hiruma couldn’t help but chuckle and just shrug in response, knowing full well that such a nonchalant reaction to her accusations would only irritate her further. However, to his surprise, her anger seemed to deflate slightly with his acknowledgment – maybe she was beginning to become resigned to his plans, which he had to admit, would make his life a hell of a load easier if he didn’t have to encounter her after every fucking little threat he posed to any member of the student body. She sighed softly and took a deep breath, which immediately seemed to invigorate her, and Hiruma prepared himself for another fucking annoying righteous tirade.
“Honestly Hiruma-kun,” she finally stated calmly, surprising him slightly as it didn’t seem like she was actually attempting to scold him. “Why don’t you just go to the athletic director or even the principal and tell him that you’ve formed a new team, and discuss funding opportunities that you can take advantage of to get the team off the ground? Wouldn’t that actually be easier than siphoning all the funding and equipment from other teams, and would be more helpful for obtaining more specialized equipment?”
Hiruma cocked his head slightly but didn’t answer, and Mamori simply rolled her eyes at his lack of response and walked away without another word.
“Keh, she’s fucking annoying, but she does have a point” Hiruma muttered to himself. “It is fucking hell to deal with all those pipsqueaks just to get subpar equipment and limited funding – but who said I wasn’t already planning to go directly to the old fart himself. Time to see what’s in my fucking arsenal after all my “investigating”.”
After poring through video and camera footage from all the cell phone cameras he had installed around the city and a couple of threatening phone calls to people who owed him information or favors, he strolled into the Principal’s office unannounced, a devious smirk on his face as the Principal looked at him in both askance and annoyance, but with a slight air of nervousness considering the fact the old man withdrew a handkerchief to start blotting his forehead.
“Hiruma-kun, what exactly are you doing in my office when you should be in class? I didn’t call you here, and you don’t have an appointment, so you should-”
“Funny you should speak of appointments old man,” Hiruma abruptly intervened, a wicked smile blossoming on his face as he sank into a chair across from the Principal, carelessly swinging his legs to rest on the desk in the most disrespectful manner possible.
The Principal’s brow furrowed in confusion at the rather strange interruption and change of topic. “Hiruma-kun, exactly what do you mean?”
Hiruma’s smile widened as he withdrew a tiny black notebook from his pocket, and the Principal’s eyes widened. He had heard of Hiruma terrorizing the student population, and he had heard enough about the Devil’s Handbook from the student population and even some of the teachers, but when he had pressed people to file an actual complaint so that it could be handled appropriately, they’d suddenly fall silent, overtaken by a series of wild trembling before stammering excuses about not needing to handle matters in such a manner. And honestly, he needed concrete proof in order to actually handle the situation known as Hiruma, so he had held off on the whole scenario…and now it looked like it was his turn to suffer. He started sweating visibly and profusely now, wondering exactly what implicating information Hiruma would magically pull out of a hat…or in this case, the little black notebook from hell.
“Well, well, Principal,” Hiruma drawled dramatically with a devilish glint in his eyes, pausing on a page theatrically after aimlessly flipping through the notebook. “It appears I have some extremely incriminating photos here…”
The Principal’s eyes widened in horror the second the word “incriminating” was uttered. “What?!” he blurted out, absolutely flabbergasted that Hiruma had managed to capture photos when he had taken such pains to ensure that the entire ordeal was hidden. “Of my affair? How did you find out?!”
“Kekekekekeke!” Hiruma cackled wildly, slamming the notebook shut. “The correct question isn’t “How?”, but really, “What should I do to keep my fucking indiscretion under wraps?” So tell me, fucking Principal…what will you offer me?”
Hours later, as the sun was setting and after their training, Hiruma, Musashi, and Kurita were gathered in the First Years’ Room 2, with Kurita staring in awe and Musashi shaking his head bemusedly as Hiruma regaled them with his tale of blackmailing the principal with much glee and cackling, especially because he hadn’t even needed to actually show any evidence – the fucking idiot had just blurted out everything with absolutely zero filter.
“Do you know what this means fucking teammates?” he asked with his brow arched as he ended his story, his mirth dissipating even though he was still grinning, his eyes taking on a more serious glint. “We have a fucking club, we’ve been gathering teammates, and now we have the fucking funds and resources for all the specialized training equipment we need – it means it’s time to take this seriously and make it to the fucking Christmas Bowl!”
Kurita cheered enthusiastically with tears in his eyes, and even Musashi had a broad grin with Hiruma’s declaration. “I feel like we should commemorate this moment somehow,” he mused out loud. “The beginning of the Deimon Devilbats’ journey to the Christmas Bowl.”
Hiruma scanned the classroom briefly, his eyes narrowing as they fell upon the TV sitting in the corner of the room. “Let’s fucking commemorate this moment on that.”
“On the TV? But…that’s school property!” Kurita stammered, but Hiruma merely cackled and sauntered over to the TV, withdrawing a white marker from his jacket. He paused for a second, contemplating what to write, but then he realized that what he had said earlier were the best choice. And without any further hesitation, he wrote, “Let’s go for it! The Christmas Bowl!” signing his name before tossing the marker to Kurita, who fumbled it slightly but didn’t drop it. Neither Kurita nor Musashi made any further comment, simply signing their names, knowing full well that even though they had just defied school property, Hiruma would manage to wave any infractions away with a flick of his wrist. When Musashi handed the marker back to Hiruma, he grinned in excitement.
“So let’s fucking go for it and make it to the Christmas Bowl!”
***
“HIRUMA-KUN!!!”
Hiruma grinned mirthfully as once again, Mamori came barreling towards him, although he was fucking amused by how absolutely furious she sounded today, causing fucking fatty to cringe under the weight of her anger, and even causing the fucking old man to arch a brow in surprise.
“Well, well, well, fucking disciplinarian, why the hell are you chasing after me this morning?” he mocked, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face upon seeing just how deeply irritated she was today.
“When I told you to discuss funding opportunities with the Principal, that wasn’t an invitation to blackmail him for money!” she scolded him, seething with rage. “I meant having a civilized discussion, which I know is a rather difficult task for you to manage, but surely, you could have come to an agreement about funding your team!”
“We did come to a fucking agreement about funding after a discussion,” Hiruma replied plaintively, causing Mamori to cross her arms and somehow look even more annoyed and accusatory, which he hadn’t thought was humanly possible, but caused him to grin even more widely.
“It’s not an agreement if it’s blackmail!”
“Honestly fucking disciplinarian, you insisted I leave the other teams alone and stop giving them shit, and you suggested talking to the Principal, so really, if you look at it from that perspective…isn’t it your fault?” Hiruma insinuated devilishly, his eyes dancing with mirth.
“Don’t you dare blame me for this!” Mamori hissed, rolling her eyes with his attempt to shift the responsibility of his actions. “I’m sure you would have done this eventually, even without my suggestion, but honestly Hiruma, can’t you just behave rationally for once?”
Hiruma threw back his head and laughed, tears nearly pouring down his face with the stupidity of her question. “Hell no!”