Work Text:
Welcome to the planet
Welcome to existence
Everyone's here
Everyone's here
Everybody's watching you now
Everybody waits for you now
What happens next?
What happens next?
Green eyes looked at the imposing building of Notre Dame University dismissively. He had seen bigger and better already, and after all that bullshit he had seen through, not many things could intimidate him.
If he would've found appropriate feelings to use, he would have scoffed at all those starry – eyed newbies, but he found this course of action pointless. He was here to take classes and relax from the hectic year he had – and of course, to blend in.
And one Harry James Potter, now Harry Orion Evans, the ex-wizard intended to do good on his promise.
Throwing his last look at the fountain, he absentmindedly joined the hustle and bustle of searching for the assigned classrooms. Harry was a recluse. A polite one, but distant nonetheless. He had a few acquaintances from every clique – geeks, jocks you name it, he had it all; but still, he was rather mysterious to his peers. Quiet and unobtrusive, but with keen sense for social interactions, and seemingly so much older than his peers. He didn't have any trouble with lessons, but his scores were somewhere in the upper middle half of the class. He didn't really join any club or brotherhood, although he helped in animal shelter in his free time.
Generally, he was left alone; nobody knew why.
Until one day…
Harry was walking from his lessons, idly contemplating his grocery list - he had to restock his fridge and pantry badly, because his friendly neighbours thought it would be a good idea to have a big happy meeting in his apartment, when he happened upon a group of jocks, intent on beating one of their own into the ground.
"Go away, Jap," One of the jocks sneered at the dazed form on the ground. "We need no weaklings here."
Harry's blood boiled as the jock kicked the kid down. "What the fuck is going on?" He asked sharply, unintentionally using his commander voice.
The jocks stiffened. Harry blinked as he recognized one of them. "Rawlings!" He barked out, making the called jock jump in fright.
"Ain't yer business, Evans," One of the jocks sneered at the slender green-eyed man. "Scram, or else we'll fuck up yer pretty face." He threatened, stepping forward.
Harry didn't budge. Instead, he strode forward confidently. "When you idiots are hazing someone, it became my business," He replied frostily. "Go away and leave him alone."
The jocks roared with laughter… except for Rawlings. The sandy-haired teen gulped. "Uh.. Harry, he's a Jap." He tried to justify. "He isn't ours."
Harry blinked as he looked at the crouched teen's upturned face. "A Japanese, huh?" He muttered dryly. Dazed hazel eyes looked at him. "We-ell, more so the reason for you asses to leave him the hell alone." Rawlings flinched as his colleagues bristled at Harry's dismissive tone. "Hoh? So you wanna protect your little squinty-eyed bitch?" the leader sneered.
Harry didn't react. Green eyes looked in those hazel orbs flecked with gold. The dazed stare sharpened, and after a moment, Harry nodded.
He then turned to the lead bully. "Stetson." His voice was like liquid nitrogen. "You may haze him any way you want; any time and any place. But I promise you this - if you try to haze him, I will be there to stop you. And on the field… He will crush you, like the whiny little bitches you bunch are."
The Japanese's face snapped at the green eyes man's promise.
To hear such a faith in that voice… the faith in him… it was amazing feeling.
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened -
Today never happened before
Grunting, the bullies skulked away, leaving the still kneeling Japanese teen and glaring British one. Green eyes thawed a little, as he looked at the still dazed teen-. "You alright?" Harry asked gruffly. The kid nodded dazedly. "Uh, yeah. I – I think so?" He pressed his hand to the bleeding wound, as he swayed a little.
Harry groaned. "Oh, for the love of - ! Get up and go to the infirmary!" He growled out. In return, he got a stupid smile and a nod. "Thank you, I think I will… hey, do you have a tissue?"
Wordlessly, Harry passed him one. Just when he turned, a hand was placed on his leg. "Um… Thanks for your help. You know – earlier," The kid fumbled.
Grunting, Harry made a move to go away, but he was being held by the grip. "Uh… What's your name?" Harry looked at the sheepish teen in front of him. "Harry Evans." With that, he pried the grip off of his leg, choosing to disregard dismay on the kid's face. "I have things to do and places to be. Park your hide in infirmary and keep your mouth shut. You never saw me, understood?"
He was granted one more of those stupid, brilliant smiles. "Yes, Sir, right away, Sir!"
The bloody kid had the cheek to salute him!
Harry twitched.
The bloody nerve.
Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
The tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be
He had thought this would be the end of it. However, he didn't count on the kid's stubbornness in that matter. He was minding his own business in the mess hall, eating his lunch, when –
"Um, hi. Can I sit here?" A familiar voice asked cheerfully. And even before he could answer, the ass parked himself on the seat next to his. "I didn't manage to introduce myself before," The same happy-go-lucky voice nattered on. Harry shot his new neighbour an annoyed glare, but without success. "I am Yamato Takeru, nice to meet you."
Harry grunted at the introduction. "Hn."
He looked at the brat, and he barely managed to stand still. Bloody hell, Yamato was tall! Well, at least taller than Harry. And that sparkling smile, combined with puppy eyes… "My head is good, thanks. I needed some stitches, but it was okay." Yamato nattered on cheerfully, unaware of the thunderous mood of his 'saviour' and people carefully edging away from the two of them.
Harry twitched. He had a rising urge to perform a very painful surgery on the fool…. To sew his mouth shut, or at least shove a fork up where the sun doesn't shine.
"Would you mind?" He growled out. "I'm trying to eat!" the tone of his voice would silence the rowdiest of Gryffindors, but Yamato blithely continued. "Oh, good! Then would you mind swapping some rice for fries with me? I'm craving 'em, but I came too late to get some." Harry sighed and showed his fries to the nuisance. It seemed that this would be a long, long day.
He kept his promise. When the imbeciles attacked Yamato again, he interfered. The thugs were later found by a pair of lovebirds – unconscious and with couple of broken bones. Harry was still cowardly enough to hightail outta there with his fastest speed, leaving Yamato in the dust.
No matter. Somehow, the dratted boy found out where he lived –
/Ring, Ring/
Harry blinked at the sound. Who on earth would want to visit him now? His neighbour, Mrs Stebbins, was away for her weekly tea time with other old ladies, the postman came at Tuesdays – today was Thursday – his acquaintances learned early on he abhorred frat parties –
/Ring, Ring - /
Sighing wearily, he out down the book he had been reading and stood up to open the door.
And lo and behold, here he was.
"Yamato…" Harry growled out.
The boy beamed. "Hi! Um… I heard you're tutoring English. So – um, would you tutor me?"
And there it was… a famous puppy dog eyes.
Harry growled.
"You insufferable – And if I say no?"
For a moment, he delighted in the devastated expression on his personal stalker's face.
He made a mover to close the door, when he was stopped.
The brat held the door open, his usually somewhat goofy face serious, hazel eyes bright with amber flecks were shining with determination.
"Then I'll just have to persuade you to say yes."
At that moment, Harry was hit with a vision of himself saying those exact words to one dour Potions' Master. He had been desperate – and determined enough – to hound Snape to the end of the world if needed be, just to be trained properly. When he had lost his faith in Dumbledore, he turned to the one person he knew never lied to or manipulated him.
Hermione and Ron protested, but Harry was undeterred. If he had to off the tosser, he would be bloody prepared to do so, and not with that mumbo-jumbo of his mother's supposed sacrifice!
He paused. Green eyes looked at detrmined hazel and amber coloured ones. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he sighed.
"Well… Come in on, then."
And he was rewarded with the most brilliant smile to date.
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened
Harry swiftly kicked Yamato in the stomach, making the taller teen yelp with pain. "Is that all you've got? " Harry asked disdainfully. "Is that all you can do?" he kicked Yamato again, before stomping on his chest, making Yamato groan with pain. "Uh… But Ha – Harry – " Green eyes flashed as Harry swiftly kneeled and looked at Yamato's face.
"You want to give up? Then, by all means, do so. I dare you. Be the little squinty- eyed maggot that is too weak to play football…. On a girls' team. No – girls would be too good for you, wouldn't they?" Harry continued mercilessly, his breath fanning across Yamato's steadily reddening face. " A newborn baby could trash you, blind and with one hand tied on his back. "
Yamato snarled. "You bastard…" He spit out, his breathing heavy with exertion.
He was dirty, muddy, dog-gone tired. His body ached like nobody's business in places he didn't know it could ache, and right now, he hated one Harry Orion Evans to the deepest pits of Hell.
"And proud of it," Harry dismissed the accusation.
Standing up, he kicked Yamato's throbbing side again. Hard.
"Now, if you are done with your pity party, get up and MOVE!" He barked out, before turning away from the seething Yamato.
That… was a mistake.
Yamato shot up and pounced on Harry, teeth bared in a snarl –
And Harry pivoted, grabbed his would – be attacker's jaw and slammed him on the hard concrete, making Yamato see stars.
"So, you still have some fight in you," He remarked coldly. "Good. Get up and start running."
Yamato whimpered.
Harry was one cold, cruel son of a bitch, and Yamato was monumentally stupid idiot to beg Harry to help him to enter the qualifications for Notre Dame's first-string football team.
Sighing, he got up and started to run.
Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here
He still had nightmares from that time. He got better, but memories would haunt him to the end of his life. Closing his eyes, he sighed. It was hard to move on, and sometimes, he wondered whether he did the right thing, moving to States and not staying in England.
On the minus side, he felt as a coward.
On the plus side, he was safe from paparazzi and wizarding idiots.
And looking into Yamato's glowing eyes, as the brat excitedly bounced to him, announcing he got accepted into the first string was, if not redemption, at least a tiny bit of salvation that made Harry smiling so much easier to bear.
"Hey, Harry! I'm number 21 now!" Yamato told him enthusiastically. Harry made a noise and nodded, making Yamato pout. Harry's lips quirked in a smirk at the sight.
"Ah, I know!" Yamato perked up. "Let's celebrate with some of your home made lasagna and cake!"
Harry choked in surprise. "What?" He yelped out. "Do I look like your personal chef?" He sputtered out.
Yamato eyed the flustered green-eyed male impishly. "Yes," He answered promptly. "Now, feed me?" He whined, making puppy eyes at his friend.
Harry sighed. "You're paying for the ingredients, AND you're washing the dishes." He capitulated gracefully.
"He – ey!" Yamato mock – pouted. "I'm the man of the hour! Don't I deserve some… special privileges?" Harry's eyebrow twitched.
A surprised yelp later, Yamato was nursing his numb arm and staring dumbly at Harry's retreating back.
"Harry! What have you done to me? HARRY!"
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself, to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened before
The first quarter against NASA Aliens was disaster. Eyeshield 21 was completely overwhelmed by some no-name running back.
It was a blasphemy.
Eyeshield walked to the changing room alone.
"As soon as the game is finished, you're expelled from Notre Dame"
Gritting his teeth, he threw the golden helmet at the wall.
"Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck! How could it happen?" He snarled out, his low voice too furious to be comprehensible.
"That no – good ahou-yarou – how dare he - !"
BANG!
An errant football ball had just exploded at the wall with the force of Yamato's throw.
In front of his mental eyes, the memories began parading.
"Hey, isn't that a Jap? What is he doing on OUR field?"
"Oi, Squinty! Bring us water!"
"Go away. You are useless trash"
"I bet he'll miss catching the ball again."
Yamato growled like a wild animal. He had poured his sweat, blood and tears into being football player, and just like that, just because some no-name American won in their little confrontation, he was now disposable to the team!
"Are you finished with your temper tantrum now?" A sharp voice cut through the red haze of his rage.
Yelping, Yamato whirled around.
There, leaning against the door, was his Harry.
"Um, Sir!" He squeaked out, flushing involuntarily. He was embarrassed to no end – not only had Harry witnessed his humiliation, but from his words, he was present for Yamato's temper tantrum, too.
It didn't help that Harry was looking good enough to eat.
"What are you - doing here?" Yamato asked hesitantly.
Green eyes narrowing, Harry approached the taller teen calmly.
"Watching you making an ass out of yourself," Harry muttered dryly.
Yamato wanted to protest, but instead, he snapped his mouth shut.
Instead, he watched Harry approach him.
Harry was clad in dark grey trousers with green T-shirt and denim jacket over it. Tousled wild hair, as if the wind messed it up, Harry also wore blue-tinted glasses today. Yamato swallowed dryly. Harry was one smokin' hot piece of a man, and Yamato's hand made acquaintance with his member many times over the fantasies of his grumpy friend.
"I'm sorry, Harry," He managed to get out, shamefaced. "I disappointed you." He hung his head, only to be grabbed by his hair, and brought to Harry's furious face.
"You're right, Yamato," Harry's voice was arctic cold. "You disappointed me – but not because of your play. You disappointed me because you gave up!"
Yamato flinched at the pointed words. "But he – he's too fast!" He protested feebly. "I can't seal him and – " He was interrupted by a bonk on his head.
"Then find a way. You're not the only player on the field," Harry growled out, exasperated. "Everyone has a flaw. Find his, and exploit it!"
Yamato stared at Harry, feeling betrayed. "You know what? Fuck. You." He snarled out. "If you were on my place, you'd do the same – "
Harry sighed. "Yes," He agreed. "I'd stand up and continue." His voice was flat, making Yamato shudder with dread. A bitter smile and those weary green eyes instantly made him guilty.
Harry released him and turned away. "Harry, I - !" Yamato tried.
A slight shake of Harry's head snapped his jaw shut.
"Don't." Harry's whisper echoed in the empty locker room.
"I can only tell you what my - Sergeant- told me. 'When you'll be out there, you'll have only two possibilities. One is, to survive. The other is to die. But only you can chose which one you'll abide by.'"
Yamato watched as harry walked away from him, and for some reason, he felt an unreasonable loss of… something in his chest.
Just what had his friend been through to have such a weary outlook on the life?
However, that cinched it up for Yamato.
He didn't care what were his soon to be ex-team mates saying about his heritage, his faults and his inability to be recent running back.
He was not here to pussyfoot around this time. It didn't matter that this would be his last match. Even his approaching expulsion didn't matter anymore.
What it did matter, was to run this son of a bitch into the ground and win.
Yamato – Eyeshield 21 – was a veritable juggernaut that caused chaos end despair among his opponents, Harry noted. Caesar Charge was a scary thing to see – but even scarier thing was, Yamato was evolving. Pushing higher, better, faster, he soon reached and outpaced NASA's running back, and with Caesar Charge in attack mode, NASA's ace didn't have a chance.
The pace of the match was brutal, ending in Notre Dame's total victory.
Basically, Yamato saved their arses.
Mr Don approached the panting Eyeshield. "That was a good game, kid," he said nonchalantly. He watched the Eyeshield grunt in agreement and take off his helmet. "This time, you're forgiven," Mr Don continued blithely, unaware of Yamato's rapidly approaching dark mood. "If you had played like this from the very beginning – "
"Don," Yamato interrupted the man calmly. He took the eyeshieid off his helmet, holding the blue – coloured piece of plastic in his right hand gently.
Don looked at the too still and too calm player lazily. "What do you want, Eyesh – "
"Fuck. Off." Yamato told him candidly, as he crushed the eyeshield in blue shards with one hand, making the crowd go quiet. "You don't need me, I won't be here. Expect my resignation letter by tomorrow."
"Whaa -! But - !" Mr. Don tried to protest, but Yamato was already striding away, his hear held high.
Pale blue eyes looked at the shards on the ground and then at the still overwhelmed Don. "Congratulations," Clifford said tonelessly. "You've just lost us my best card."
Don grunted. "Not if I have anything to do with it."
Yamato didn't bother with changing out of the jersey. Fuck clothes – he had to find Harry!
With that thought in mind, he sprinted to Harry's little apartment, hoping against hope he would find harry there.
Harry didn't bother with watching the match to the end. Yamato's words hurt too much. Harry groaned, furious at himself and at one squinty – eyed bastard - somehow, Yamato managed to creep under his skin and stay here. Harry knew he would miss the happy-go-lucky chatterbox, but it couldn't be helped. Sniffling slightly, he headed to the kitchenette to make some tea. Furiously, he rubbed at his watering eyes.
"Oh, fuck NO." He groaned. "I will NOT cry like some weak pansy arse!"
But tears came anyway.
He was jolted from his uneasy slumber by the pounding on the door. Blearily, he looked at the clock. Four AM. The match should be finished – Harry harshly stopped that particular train of thoughts.
The pounding continued.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!" He yelled back, irritated. It came out a little listlessly, and not as fierce as he would have liked, but what the hell.
As he opened the door, the golden and blue blurr slammed into him, and the next thing Harry knew, was him being kissed out of his wits by very male, very bothered, and very familiar person.
Whimpering feebly, he tried to back away, but those arms didn't budge. Instead of that, he was subjected to another of those ravenous kisses that turned his knees to jelly and otherwise sharp brain to mush.
Eventually, they parted. Dazed green eyes looked at the equally dazed, but determined amber ones. "What –" Harry began.
His attacker shushed him. "Harry. You can yell at me later. Just let me tell you –" Yamato's Adam apple bobbed nervously. "I love you. And I'm sorry for – well, you know. That, in changing room. I was angry and scared. Obermann just told me that after game, I was to be expelled from the school and - " Harry's eyes widened. "What! That no good piece of – "He fumed. "I'll show that Malfoy reject just what he'd lose –" He blinked as the first part hit his brain.
"Wait. You love me?" He asked incredulously, making Yamato blush and shuffle uncomfortably. "Um, yeah."
Harry stared. "Why?" The question flew out of his mouth before his brain could comprehend. A moment later, he berated himself. He could have asked anything else, and instead of that, he chose to ask that!
Stupid brain.
Yamato stared at the bewildered youth in his arms incredulously. "You mean you don't know?" He asked, flabbergasted. "You are a good person. You protected me, helped me, and didn't give up on my whiny, bitchy arse. You bore my fits of stupidity and you helped me with my English - and you still ask why?"
Harry made a frustrated sound. "Yes!" He growled out. "I would've done that for anyone. I am bitchy, unsocial and more likely to off you when you woke me up than to tell you to fuck off. I am paranoid and – "
He snapped his mouth shut. "Never mind. The point is, neither of us is gay. You tell me you love me, but that's just temporary – oof!"
He yelped as he was shoved into the wall painfully. The door banged shut a moment later. "Really?" Yamato purred out, incensed. "So you say my dreams of having you at my mercy, naked and helpless, are just a phase? That me, wanking at the memories of you crouching over me, kicking my butt into gear, sharing your meals with me, teaching me English grammar – is just a passing fancy? That my want of having you for myself – and for the record, I was jealous of your groupies as hell – is something to scoff at?"
Their breaths intermingled, as their eyes stared at each other's faces.
Harry gulped. He knew Yamato was intense, but… Woah. "Why won't you believe me?" Yamato asked desperately. Harry blinked. Yamato was serious with this.
"But we're both males." He tried once again.
Yamato made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat. "I. Don't. Care." He growled out. "Besides, I quit the team anyway."
Green eyes widened with shock.
"YOU WHAT!"
Yamato winced at the volume of Harry's shocked voice.
'Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to tell him,' He mused to himself silently. But he was out of reasons to convince Harry, and he thought –
"You quit your team?" Harry practically hissed in Yamato's face. "Yes, but only after a match. Which we've won, by the way," Yamato quickly backtracked. "Besides, there was no point staying there, while they were so eager to kick me out," He snarled, irritated.
"And you are… alright, with that?" Harry asked tentatively. They both knew that Harry wasn't questioning only Yamato's decision to leave the team. Harry was also wondering about Yamato's feelings about him.
"Yeah," Yamato whispered. "Will you give me a chance?" He asked nervously.
Harry sighed. "I suppose," He grumbled out, with a light flush suffusing his cheeks.
Yamato beamed with happiness and stole another kiss.
"WE ARE – MARSHALL! WE ARE – MARSHALL! WE ARE – MARSHALL!" The chants pervaded the air, both from watchers and players. It was the day of the decisive match; the match that would decide which team would play in finale.
It was much anticipated match, both Marshall and Notre Dame having a winning streak through the entire season. But this time, only one of the two teams would advance.
What was even more interesting, was the fact that the match would be a final showdown between Donald Obermann, the captain of Notre Dane's first string, and the ex-player of the mentioned school, now the captain of Thundering Herd himself, Yamato Takeru.
Rumors had it that after the match with NASA Aliens, now renamed NASA Shuttles, Yamato crushed the blue eyeshield an politely told Mr Don to go fuck himself and then, he quit.
Two weeks later, he transferred to the Marshall University, which gladly accepted a running back of his calibre.
Although Notre Dame still held strong, there was a noticeable gap in their arsenal of plays, just because of Yamato's absence.
At the Marshall. Yamato quickly advanced to the first string. When the captain of the first string, Mitchell Reuters, injuried his knee, Yamato stepped in as a temporary captain. The trust of Thundering Herd wasn't misplaced. With Yamato at the help, they quickly rose to being one of favourites for champion s of the season.
Yamato himself improved tremendously. His speed was now steady 4,2. But if he really kicked into high gear, it became the astonishing 4.0. His bench-press was unknown, although there were speculations about him being able to lift 145 kg; some said he could lift even more.
His Caesar Charge was his opponents' worst nightmare. On the field, he wore a green eyeshield and a jersey nimber 21.
"I will show you the real Eyeshield 21," Hiruma grinned demonically. The Deimon Devilbats were in luck - in ther Hell Month, they came across the announcement of the match of Notre Dame VS Marshall, and like any hardcore football player, Hiruma grabbed the chance and ran with it.
"E – Eh?" A small boy squeaked out, his brown eyes huge. "R – Real deal?" Sena asked fearfully. Hiruma rolled his eyes. "Yup. Watch and learn fucking chibi…"
Sena gulped, as he looked at the field.
"And now, there is our very own Thundering Herd, led by captain Yamato Takeru – the Eyeshield 21!"
The commentator shouted, as the excited crowd almost drowned his voice with their roars.
Sena watched, awed, as the single figure in green and white jersey with number 21 led the team to the field. "EYE-SHIELD! EYE-SHIELD!" The calls were almost deafening in their volume.
The guy was tall and he moved with such an easy grace and confidence, that Sena blushed and shrunk into his seat.
"Kya! He's soo cool!" Suzuna piped out, her eyes shaped in little hearts.
The man beside her chuckled. "A new admirer, I see,"
Blue eyes twinkling with mirth, he looked at the eavesdropping bunch. "So you're here for the clash," He rumbled out.
Hiruma gave him a fanged grin. "Yeah. Besides, the damn pipsqueak got to see his namesake."
The man nodded. "Ah, indeed. And he will get to see something. Besides, I'm rather curious how will they outwit Don."
Down, on the field, both of teams lined up and looked at each other. Blue, white and gold against black, white and green. Two pairs of eyes locked at each other. "So you hid your tail here," Don remarked. "How sad."
Yamato gave him a wolfish grin. "Too bad for you, neh? Do tell me how you managed to win your matches. I heard you had a rather hard time with Tecumseh University." He ended cheerfully.
Don's face darkened. "You are going down," He growled through gritted teeth. Yamato smirked. "On my lover, yeah." The Herd groaned or snickered at Yamato's cheeky answer.
The Devilbats stared. There was no other description. Eyeshield 21 was juggernaut – nobody could stop him. He even won the clash with Mr Don, and that was nothing to scoff at – Don was taller and heavier that the slender Japanese – and yet, Yamato plowed through him with a deceptive ease.
The Herd had won. Yamato scored the last touchdown at the final whistle, and the stands went crazy. Even hardcore supporters of Notre Dame were yelling and calling in excitement.
Sena sat on the bench, dazed. That was the man who rightfully wore the Eyeshield title? In that moment, Sena felt a thousand miles away from his goal. He gulped.
Somehow, Hiruma managed to organize a meeting between Devilbats and Eyeshield 21. They entered the Herd's changing room filled with awe. This was the room of legends. Yamato awaited them, along with an unknown green-eyed male.
"Hello, Devilbats," Yamato greeted them warmly.
"Uh – h. Hi?" Sena squeaked out, his eyes huge. Yamato chuckled at the kid's awe. "Relax, I don't bite – ow!" He yelped, as the smaller male head-cuffed him.
"Harry!" He whined, making puppy-dog eyes on his green-eyed partner. Harry snorted, amused. "Won't work on me, Takeru. By the way," he turned to Devilbats, "I am Harry Evans, Auxiliary coach for the green bunch."
It was Yamato's turn to snort. "Keep telling yourself that," He snarked. "Guys, he's the Green Demon you've heard so much about." He smirked at Harry's glare unrepentantly.
Hiruma's eyes widened. The Green Demon was a mysterious coach that whipped the Herd in shape. The Herd both cursed and adored him; his training regime was said to be devised in Hell. The results, howeverm spoke for themselves. "So… Care to exchange training tips?" Hiruma asked with demonic grin on his face.
Harry smirked. "Why, I thought you'd never ask," He purred out silkily. Both Devilbats and Yamato paled with terror.
Yamato kindly answered their questions, or, as much as he could. Finally, the questions petered down, and Hiruma herded them away. "Um… Aren't you angry for me taking your title?" Sena asked hesitantly. Yamato blinked. "I don't care, " He told the small teen warmly. "Besides, I have faith that you'll definitely earn it on your own." He clapped Sena on the shoulder gently. "And if you hadn't taken it up, somebody else would."
Sena nodded, his eyes filled with tears of relief. "Yeah! I – I won't disappoint you, I promise!" Yamato chuckled. "I know you won't. Now, shouldn't you be joining your team?"
Yelping, Sena's eyes widened, and he scurried after the Devilbats.
Yamato chuckled. If nothing else, this team was definitely unique.
He felt Harry embrace him. "They are quite a rowdy bunch, aren't they?" Harry asked quietly.
Yamato nodded thoughtfully. "And they have potential. Especially the captain and the little one." He smirked impishly. "You know, they remind me of us."
Harry snorted, amused. "Should I acquire some guns?" He asked, green eyes dancing with mirth. Chuckling, Yamato took his jacket and shrugged it on. "Nah, you are scary enough as it is."
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked mock- dangerously. Yamato's eyes widened . "See! That's what I'm talking about!" He mock-yelped, before dodging the head cuff and dancing out of Harry's reach.
Harry only shook his head, amused with Yamato's antics.
Marshall University won the Fall Games, and got the trophy. The MVP of the season was Yamato Takeru, along with Patrick Spencer. Both of them are still rivals. Donald Obermann waits for his great chance in form of the first World Youth Championship. Sadly, Yamato Takeru declined the participation, along with the Devil Coach himself, Harry Evans.
In Japan, the finale of the Christmas Bowl went to Deimon Devilbats and Oujou White Knights. Kobayakawa Sena had proved himself to be the real Eyeshield 21. Devilbats won the match, and there were rumors of Kobayakawa Sena and one Shin Seijuro being in relationship. Some tongues wagged about Hiruma and Agon being in the relationship, too, but those rumors were quicky silenced or otherwise disproven.
/The End - Owari/