01.
Heapos;s fast as hell. On the way to his house heapos;s taking a deep breath already, heapos;s prepared, his foot is arched and poised to claw the earth away within the next minute, the next second, the next time he exhales he knows heapos;s going to be gone.
And his hands are swinging, carefully controlled, but anyone whoapos;s watching can tell right away that heapos;s raring to go. That theyapos;re just waiting for the right cold wind to push him to the right way at the right time and heapos;ll be off. Mamori watches him carefully and sheapos;s carefully watching his movements, carefully, because something seems to be off. The timing of his feet when they fall to the ground, one after the other, theyapos;re a little faster now. When he turns into a corner itapos;s now a rather sharp turn than before -- soft, gentle, hesitant, looking left and right because he might hit somebody, or he might meet someone he doesnapos;t want to. And now with no hesitations, sure of himself, he cuts through the crowds of students in school like theyapos;re nothing more than butter and he, a hot butterknife, solid.
Hiruma watches her watching him and he smiles with that grin of his and drawls, "it canapos;t be helped, fucking manager."
By reflex she responds "donapos;t call me a apos;fucking managerapos;, Hiruma-kun," but it comes out rather weak and skims through his head like wind. Hiruma blows a pink bubble from his mouth, maybe to stop himself from saying something important; or maybe to tell her something cruel but heapos;s holding it back until the lsat minute, she doesnapos;t know, sheapos;s not always sure with Hiruma himself. But he is silent for a while as they walk towards their respective classes and everybody goes ahead of them, including Sena, and she watches him move further and further away.
Mamori extends a hand to grab him back -- she was going to tell him to be careful now, study hard, make sure you listen to the teacher -- but Hiruma, calm as a lighthouse in the middle of a raging storm, grabs her wrist gently, but firm.
For a minute it was him watching her watch him in the middle of the hall. The warning bell for third period class sounds and sheapos;s trapped right in between his fingers.
They look so brittle, she thought, but she knew she canapos;t break off of them any time she wanted to because their slender forms were an illusion, masking how much heapos;s already marked her wrists with his fingers.
"Let him go," he says finally. "He has places to run off to."
So Mamori says nothing, and just watches Sena disappear with his newfound friends for a while and she thought maybe this is just alright, itapos;s just for the meantime anyway, later on theyapos;ll meet again and maybe she should just leave Sena with his friends.
Sheapos;s not looking at Hiruma when he let her go. He was gonna say something else, but heapos;d decided he wasnapos;t going to waste his time.
4.2s is his record time, if you keep watching him like this youapos;ll never catch up to him, heapos;d wanted to say, but stopped himself just in time. The two of them went separate ways and Hirumaapos;s laughing eerily to himself. Itapos;s better off not telling her that. Not yet, anyway.
After all, he mused,
Iapos;m no miracle worker.That was one month ago.
02.
Then Sena took off his helmet and that was another story, entirely.
03.
At the end of the match against Bando Spiders, Mamori visits the fountain on a local park near the stadium and she sits there, sighing, resting. Today was a very exhilirating day.
Hiruma walks towards her in slow steps, as if dragging in the shadows of the setting sun with him, and heapos;s half-laughing and half-smiling at her and she canapos;t tell which is which.
"That brat did very well today," he drawled.
"Sena is always good at what he loves doing."
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