An Eyeshield 21 Drabble
Sep. 1st, 2005 08:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dethoratsTitle: Hostess
Rating: G
Pairing: None exactly, just Fucking Fat-Ass (Kurita) and Track Star! (Ishimaru)
Word Count: 867
The clubhouse was filled with the tired moans and whining that tended to mark the aftermath of football practice at Deimon High. Kurita, long used to Hiruma's ideas of training and his methods of "encouragement" moved among the exhausted players passing out the latest treat to arrive at the local convenience store. It was some kind of American brand, and truthfully he found its taste to be a bit artificial, but it was cheap and filling and sugary enough to satisfy his sweet tooth. And it would give his teammates enough of a boost to get them home before they completely collapsed.
Ishimaru slipped in the door about ten minutes after everybody else. He was panting and sweaty, having spent the last of his reserves chasing after the elusive Eyeshield 21. Once again the slippery star player of the Devil Bats had given him the slip before he could even get a chance to talk to him, let alone try to ask him to join the track team. It was the same story day after day, but Ishimaru found himself coming back anyway. And it was more than just the draw of Eyeshield. Watching the rest of the team as they bitched about Hiruma, who was off somewhere else or they would've been silent, and stuffed their faces with pastries, he felt a warm feeling spread in his chest.
Track was wonderful, and there were some great guys who he ran with, but there was nothing really like a "team" in track. Maybe the relay quartets, but that was about it. Everything was about individual achievement, even if the results did contribute to the overall score. There was no real chance to work together, to share in the triumph and defeat the way it happened on the football team. Even if he didn't get to play that much, with Eyeshield 21 being the number one runner, he had contributed his share. If only he wasn't quite so invisible...
Energized from Kurita's snacks, the team snaked around him and out the door, no one really even sparing him a second glance. There was no sign of Eyeshield either. Heaving a sigh, Ishimaru dropped down into one of the newly vacant chairs and watched as Kurita puttered around, straightening up the room. The large teen moved suprisingly well, and for a moment Ishimaru thought about asking Kurita if he had ever tried throwing. The shot put took power and a certain amount of balance but it didn't need accuracy like passing. But he discarded it almost immediately. If anyone was dedicated to American football, it was Kurita. After all, if he didn't love it, why would he put up with Hiruma for so long?
Kurita hummed absent-mindedly as he moved about the room. It was so much nicer now that they could actually use the place as a clubhouse rather than just for storage the way it had been before. And having teammates was wonderful. Perhaps they'd make it to the Christmas Bowl before he graduated after all. Popping another one of the confections in his mouth, he moved from sorting the pile of abandoned equipment to wipe down the table and startled.
"Oh, Ishimaru! I didn't know anyone was still here."
"Mmm, that's ok. I just got here when everyone else was leaving."
That wasn't entirely true, but Ishimaru had long ago learned that it was easier than trying to explain that no, he'd actually been there for however long but no one had noticed.
"Oh? Getting in some extra practice?"
Kurita smiled and settled into two of the chairs, his bulk needing the extra support.
"Something like that."
No point in asking about Eyeshield's identity again. He'd already tried that and gotten a gun barrel to the head as a result.
The already limited conversation died, and the two looked at each other in the slightly strained silence. There was no real reason for it. They were both second years, even in the same class, but they had little apparently in common except for American football. Ishimaru sighed again and wondered why he so often had this problem. It was like people almost forgot he was there and the talk just trailed off. But then Kurita seemed to get an idea and turned to the desk behind them.
"Cupcake?"
It was chocolate, obviously, with a white curly-cue swirl of icing across the top. Ishimaru wasn't big on snacks. Running could be hard on a body, and he was usually pretty careful about what he ate. But the look on Kurita's face was hopeful and he really could use the sugar rush to help get him home before he faced a mound of homework.
"Sure."
The quiet that filled the small room was no longer so uncomfortable as they chewed. It wasn't the best, Kurita thought once more about the pre-packaged pastry, but it definitely wasn't the worst either. And when they were both finished, Ishimaru helped put back the chairs and took out the trash while Kurita swept the floor. As they parted ways, Ishimaru decided that maybe his pursuit of Eyeshield 21 wasn't so futile after all as Kurita called after him.
"See you tomorrow Ishimaru!"
A/N: Holy crap do I love Ishimaru for no apparent reason! Whenever he shows up on the screen, I have to yell "TRACK STAR!" much to Brian's possible annoyance. For some reason, I feel the urge to develop a slash pairing between these two, probably because they seem to get the least amount of love. Anyhoo, if ya want, tell me what you think please.
Rating: G
Pairing: None exactly, just Fucking Fat-Ass (Kurita) and Track Star! (Ishimaru)
Word Count: 867
The clubhouse was filled with the tired moans and whining that tended to mark the aftermath of football practice at Deimon High. Kurita, long used to Hiruma's ideas of training and his methods of "encouragement" moved among the exhausted players passing out the latest treat to arrive at the local convenience store. It was some kind of American brand, and truthfully he found its taste to be a bit artificial, but it was cheap and filling and sugary enough to satisfy his sweet tooth. And it would give his teammates enough of a boost to get them home before they completely collapsed.
Ishimaru slipped in the door about ten minutes after everybody else. He was panting and sweaty, having spent the last of his reserves chasing after the elusive Eyeshield 21. Once again the slippery star player of the Devil Bats had given him the slip before he could even get a chance to talk to him, let alone try to ask him to join the track team. It was the same story day after day, but Ishimaru found himself coming back anyway. And it was more than just the draw of Eyeshield. Watching the rest of the team as they bitched about Hiruma, who was off somewhere else or they would've been silent, and stuffed their faces with pastries, he felt a warm feeling spread in his chest.
Track was wonderful, and there were some great guys who he ran with, but there was nothing really like a "team" in track. Maybe the relay quartets, but that was about it. Everything was about individual achievement, even if the results did contribute to the overall score. There was no real chance to work together, to share in the triumph and defeat the way it happened on the football team. Even if he didn't get to play that much, with Eyeshield 21 being the number one runner, he had contributed his share. If only he wasn't quite so invisible...
Energized from Kurita's snacks, the team snaked around him and out the door, no one really even sparing him a second glance. There was no sign of Eyeshield either. Heaving a sigh, Ishimaru dropped down into one of the newly vacant chairs and watched as Kurita puttered around, straightening up the room. The large teen moved suprisingly well, and for a moment Ishimaru thought about asking Kurita if he had ever tried throwing. The shot put took power and a certain amount of balance but it didn't need accuracy like passing. But he discarded it almost immediately. If anyone was dedicated to American football, it was Kurita. After all, if he didn't love it, why would he put up with Hiruma for so long?
Kurita hummed absent-mindedly as he moved about the room. It was so much nicer now that they could actually use the place as a clubhouse rather than just for storage the way it had been before. And having teammates was wonderful. Perhaps they'd make it to the Christmas Bowl before he graduated after all. Popping another one of the confections in his mouth, he moved from sorting the pile of abandoned equipment to wipe down the table and startled.
"Oh, Ishimaru! I didn't know anyone was still here."
"Mmm, that's ok. I just got here when everyone else was leaving."
That wasn't entirely true, but Ishimaru had long ago learned that it was easier than trying to explain that no, he'd actually been there for however long but no one had noticed.
"Oh? Getting in some extra practice?"
Kurita smiled and settled into two of the chairs, his bulk needing the extra support.
"Something like that."
No point in asking about Eyeshield's identity again. He'd already tried that and gotten a gun barrel to the head as a result.
The already limited conversation died, and the two looked at each other in the slightly strained silence. There was no real reason for it. They were both second years, even in the same class, but they had little apparently in common except for American football. Ishimaru sighed again and wondered why he so often had this problem. It was like people almost forgot he was there and the talk just trailed off. But then Kurita seemed to get an idea and turned to the desk behind them.
"Cupcake?"
It was chocolate, obviously, with a white curly-cue swirl of icing across the top. Ishimaru wasn't big on snacks. Running could be hard on a body, and he was usually pretty careful about what he ate. But the look on Kurita's face was hopeful and he really could use the sugar rush to help get him home before he faced a mound of homework.
"Sure."
The quiet that filled the small room was no longer so uncomfortable as they chewed. It wasn't the best, Kurita thought once more about the pre-packaged pastry, but it definitely wasn't the worst either. And when they were both finished, Ishimaru helped put back the chairs and took out the trash while Kurita swept the floor. As they parted ways, Ishimaru decided that maybe his pursuit of Eyeshield 21 wasn't so futile after all as Kurita called after him.
"See you tomorrow Ishimaru!"
A/N: Holy crap do I love Ishimaru for no apparent reason! Whenever he shows up on the screen, I have to yell "TRACK STAR!" much to Brian's possible annoyance. For some reason, I feel the urge to develop a slash pairing between these two, probably because they seem to get the least amount of love. Anyhoo, if ya want, tell me what you think please.
