honey and glass

by jes12321

Summary:

Sena decided to go to Deimon for change. Sure, he's the only deaf kid in the school and he doesn't know a single other student besides Mamori-neechan, but he'll be fine. Everything will be fine.

A certain Devil comes in and wrecks every single plan Sena had ever made.

Chapter 1

Notes:

Title from 'Honey and Glass' by Peyton Cardoza

TW for bullying, kidnapping, and gun violence (honestly that last one is throughout the story so if you don’t like it I would stop reading here) (you’re the one who chose to read a fic with Hiruma Youichi)

Also, sign language in this fic will be in italics.

Sena was running very late. The combination of sleeping in later than he expected and forgetting to charge his hearing aids the night before meant that he was behind schedule. And being behind schedule meant rushing to Deimon High School, running at full speed in an attempt to make it onto campus before the gates closed for testing. 

It was a risk, Sena knew, to attend a regular high school after going to a school for deaf and hard of hearing students for the past three years. Sena also knew that he had to escape the bullies at his middle school, most of whom would be attending their affiliated high school. Mamori being a student at Deimon High was also a plus. At least one other person there would be able to understand Sena. Although, with rumors of a Devil haunting the halls of Deimon High, the principal was desperate enough for new students that he agreed to almost all of Sena’s requested accommodations. He was even letting Sena take an American Sign Language class online rather than English like the rest of his classmates. 

All of which is to say that Sena had to make it to the test on time. He wasn’t going to get another opportunity like this at another school and the idea of going through three more years with his bullies was nowhere near appealing. 

Weaving through crowds of people (apologizing hastily to anyone he had cut off or bumped into in his rush) and leaping over obstacles, Sena literally dove through the small opening in the gate as the teacher pulled it closed. He looked at Sena incredulously, which Sena really couldn’t blame the man for. If he had seen a fifteen-year-old boy fly through the air in a desperate attempt to not be late, he would also be a bit surprised. 

Sena didn’t notice the Devil watching his run from the school rooftop. 

The test hadn’t been too unbearable. It was all written, so Sena didn’t really need his hearing aids and he could take the test with the rest of the prospective students. He really didn’t want to be treated all that differently just because he was born with messed up ears. He never really cared about the details, just that the doctors couldn’t fix it. 

Sena had been able to hear when he was younger. It wasn’t until he turned five that his hearing started to go. By the time he was ten, he was almost completely deaf. Without hearing aids, he couldn’t hear anything. Even with them, softer sounds were difficult to make out and it was almost impossible to tell which direction they were coming from. All in all, it sucked. But Sena had learned how to talk before his hearing went, so he could communicate outside of sign language. He usually didn’t. Not when too many kids at the playground had made fun of his slurred words or mispronunciations. At least at a school full of other kids with hearing issues, no one bullied you because you were deaf. 

Really, that was his biggest concern. Being bullied for his disability. Sure, Mamori would protect him sometimes, but she couldn’t always be there. She had her own life that didn’t revolve around Sena. He knew that. 

It wasn’t until a few weeks later that Sena realized bullies would be the least of his worries. 

School had just ended and Sena had at least a month to just relax before he had to start at Deimon High. His plan was to sit in his room and read for most of it. If he ran out of books in his own room, he could always borrow one of his father’s law books from the study. Shuuma never seemed to mind too much. 

But no. Here he was, tied up and being dragged across a familiar courtyard before being dumped in a small room. 

“Hiruma?” A soft voice asked. The boy was large, a mix of hard earned muscle and soft fat. Sena was suddenly very glad he remembered his hearing aids that morning. “Who is this?”

“Our new running back.” The other boy (Hiruma?) answered with a smirk. Sena flinched at the sharp teeth that showed in his smile and the deadly glint in the boy’s eye. 

The first boy, whose name Sena still did not know, smiled so brightly Sena fought back the instinct to squint. There was so much joy and hope in his eyes that Sena almost felt bad that he was going to have to turn them down. From the balls scattered around the small shed, they were part of the rugby team, and Sena had no intention of joining a sports club. 

He could not, however, tell them this as his hands were still tied tightly to his sides. He let out a few aborted sounds and squirmed in his bindings, trying to pry at least one hand free. 

“What, chibi?” The demonic boy (Hiruma.) asked, smirk gone and replaced with something that shown of annoyance. “Speak up.”

Sena let out an annoyed huff as he continued struggling in the ropes. Finally, the large boy seemed to get the idea and reached forward to untie Sena, but not before glancing at the Hiruma for permission. Finally, with his hands free, Sena reached up and pointed at his hearing aids before beginning to sign. 

“I can’t join your team.” His hands moving slower than usual in the hopes that at least one of the boys knew sign language. They both stared at him blankly. He sighed again before making a motion of writing on a pad of paper. 

“Are we playing fucking charades now?” Hiruma huffed before plucking a notebook and a pencil off the nearby table and tossing it to Sena. He fumbled with it for a moment before finally getting a grip on both items, dipping his head in thanks which the boy pointedly ignored. 

I’m deaf and communicate through sign language.  

He showed them the paper and watched as realization dawned on their faces. 

I’m sorry, but I cannot join your team.

As Hiruma read that message, he let out a sharp bark of laughter that seemed devoid of any true humor. 

“What, you can’t play just because you can’t hear? So what? You’ve got those fucking golden legs to carry you. Who needs fucking ears?” 

And Sena can’t do much but stare. No one but his parents have ever told Sena he can do something despite his disability. His teachers and friends (read: Mamori) had always brought up his hearing as an obstacle when it came to future plans. Mamori had even encouraged him to continue at the affiliated high school so he would be accommodated and surrounded by others who understood him. She didn’t know about the bullying. Couldn’t know about the bullying. 

“We’ll accept you as our teammate,” The other boy (whose name Sena still did not know) added, wringing his hands with only slightly dimmed hope in his eyes. 

But isn’t rugby dangerous?

The large boy’s eyes widened and Sena let out a choked sound as Hiruma pulled out a fucking gun and pointed it at his face. 

“Let’s get one thing straight, fucking chibi; we play football, not rugby.” He growled, ignoring the way the other boy tried to pull Hiruma’s arm away. Sena appreciated the effort, at least. “Of course it’s dangerous, but that’s half the fun.”

There was something about the glint in Hiruma’s eyes that made Sena hesitant to believe him. Why in the world would anyone willingly put themselves in such a dangerous situation?

“And with those legs, not many could even fucking touch you.” Hiruma continued, finally lowering his gun and blowing a bubble of the gum he had been chewing. 

“How about joining us for practice today? Then you can decide whether you want to join or not.” The large boy (Sena really needed to learn his name) suggested, finally removing the last of the rope tying Sena to his chair. In any other situation Sena would have bolted. Used those so-called ‘golden legs’ to escape this new version of hell. But there was such genuine hope in the boy’s eye that Sena couldn’t bring himself to deny him. 

“Fine.” He signed on instinct before simply nodding. They would probably get tired of him anyway. What with his inability to communicate with others. 

“Oi, fatty, he’s joining us either way. The chibi might just need some extra persuasion.” Hiruma drawled, suddenly reminding Sena that, even if it wasn’t aimed at him, the older boy still held a gun in one hand. 

On the way down to the field, the larger boy introduced himself as Kurita. Sena thought the name was fitting. 

Practice had been simple enough, though Sena was quite sure he had caught Kurita physically holding Hiruma back multiple times. He would have to thank the boy later. The forty yard dash was the worst part and that was mostly because Hiruma had sent a literal demon after him as ‘incentive’. Had it worked? Yes. Did Sena feel like he was about to pass out? Also yes. 

“You are fast!” Kurita called, gently lifting the creature off of Sena’s back. “That was a high school record.”

Before Sena could respond to the news that he had apparently just made a national high school athletics record, Hiruma spoke up. 

“Of course he’s fast. I don’t recruit weak motherfuckers to our team.”

The words made warmth bloom in Sena’s chest and he wasn’t quite sure why. Sure, the cold dread and fear were still present in the deepest pits of his stomach, but the reassurance (almost praise-like) made him want to squirm.

Without thinking, Sena signed a quick “thank you” before grabbing Hiruma’s free hand and bowing his head. It was how he had always thanked his parents and friends (read: Mamori and Riku) in the past and it felt fitting given the compliment Hiruma had just paid him. He failed to notice the way Hiruma froze as his hand was grabbed, cold fingers wrapped in warmth as a gentle smile was shown in his direction. 

“Whatever, I’m just telling the truth.” Hiruma grit out, pulling his hand away from Sena’s as he backed up a half step. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

Sena’s face warmed a bit and his smile dimmed a bit at the realization of what he had just done to a stranger. Really, you couldn’t just go around grabbing people. Get yourself together. 

Kurita gently led Sena away and reminded him of the time. Sena looked up at the sky and saw that the sun had almost set while he was practicing with the boys. Had he really been that engrossed? 

Before he could leave, Kurita put his number in Sena’s phone, adding to his honestly pathetic contacts. His parents, Mamori, and Kurita. Four numbers total. It was the most he had ever had. Even on the home phone, Sena had only ever known Mamori in the phone book. 

“And don’t worry about Hiruma. If he needs to contact you, you’ll know.” It sounded almost like a warning and the foreboding wording did nothing to help Sena’s nervousness. What had he been thinking by grabbing Hiruma just a few minutes prior. Hiruma was probably going to murder him in his sleep now.

Sena thanked both boys, careful not to reach out and grab them, before heading home, taking well-lit paths and crossing the street when he saw a group of three kids around his age. They didn’t seem to notice his change of course. 

At home that night, Sena lay in bed, staring at his new contact with a small smile. His room was quiet. Although, Sena supposed, the whole world was quiet if you asked him. Sometimes it was annoying. When his parents would accidentally sneak up on him or when his hearing aids died in the middle of a movie (subtitles were fine, but it wasn’t the same). But right now, in his comfortable bed, moonlight streaming through his window, it felt almost perfect. 

Just as Sena felt himself drifting off to sleep, his phone buzzed on the bed beside him. A text from an unknown number. 

‘Practice starts at 8:00 am sharp, fucker. Be there.’

Yeah. Perfect.

Notes:

Fun fact! The invention of the football huddle is actually accredited to Paul Hubbard, a deaf quarterback at Gallaudet University (a university for deaf and hoh people). They were playing against another university for the deaf and hoh and did not want the other team to see them signing, so Hubbard asked his teammates to gather in a tight circle to hide their hands. The huddle is now used around the world in numerous sports including football, soccer, baseball, and basketball.

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Also, I'm using these first two chapters to gauge how much people wanna read it, so if you want to see more please comment and kudos!

Chapter 2

Notes:

TW for mentioned bullying

The name signs in this chapter are of my own invention and I honestly have no idea if they would work with Japanese Sign Language. I am working off of what knowledge I have of American Sign Language, so let me know if I fuck anything up. Thanks!

Youichi was the smartest person he knew, but he was also a fucking idiot. The kid was deaf. How had he not known that? Youichi was renowned for his extensive knowledge on pretty much everyone. Kurita had said it was because he was excited to have another teammate and he forgot to do more research. That was inaccurate seeing as you couldn’t do more research when you hadn’t done any to start with. 

Truly, a cursory look at Kobayakawa Sena’s academic history would show that he went to a school for deaf and hard of hearing students for the past three years. But no. Youichi had seen those golden legs and gotten carried away in his determination to make the kid join their team. It was stupid and illogical and Youichi could not bring himself to realize why he had reacted in such a way. 

So, of course, Youichi got no sleep that night as he did a deep dive into Japanese Sign Language. By the time the sun had risen above the horizon and Kurita had called to make sure he got sleep the night before (he had a few hours before practice, he’d be fine) Youichi thought he was fluent enough in the language to not make a fool of himself in front of Kobayakawa. He had a reputation to keep. A reputation that included excelling at certain things. 

When he showed up at the Deimon High field a few minutes before eight, Youichi saw Kurita already practicing with the kid nowhere in sight. He sighed. There was still some time before he was late. 

Twenty minutes passed. The little shit was still nowhere in sight. 

The annoyance must have shown on Youichi’s face because Kurita was periodically coming up with excuses as to why Kobayakawa would be late. 

“Maybe he just overslept. Or he got lost. Or, uh, maybe he forgot his hearing aids and had to go back for them.”

It was a shitty attempt to make Youichi feel better, but he was loath to admit that it worked. Slightly. 

When he hadn’t shown up ten minutes later, Youichi was contemplating simply kidnapping the fucking chibi again. But just as he pulled out his favorite rifle, there was a soft rumbling in the distance. He looked up to see Kobayakawa, a cloud of dust behind him as he ran at top speed toward the field. When he finally reached the second-years, he put his hands on his knees and took a few deep breaths before looking up at them. They were going to have to work on his stamina. 

Kobayakawa began signing rapidly, but Youichi managed to catch most of it. What he couldn’t was easily filled in with context clues. 

“I forgot to set my alarm and then my parents kept asking where I was going but I didn’t want to tell them about football because even though they’re super supportive it’s a pretty dangerous sport and I don’t know how they would feel about it. Then I had to rush over here and I forgot my hearing aids so I’m sorry that I’m late.” He finished with a bow, only slightly deeper than the one he had given Youichi the day before. 

(Youichi pointedly ignored the way his hand tingled at the memory. People didn’t touch him. He was a Devil. Why would anyone want to touch him?)

Kobayakawa stared at them for a moment before his eyes widened and he made the same motion as the day before for a pen and paper. Youichi couldn’t help but smirk at the action. He was gonna blow this kid’s fucking mind. 

“If you’re late again, I sic Cerberus on you.” Youichi signed before turning away to return to practice. He only turned around again when he heard a choked sound and Kurita’s soft voice. 

“Sena-kun? Are you okay?”

What he saw was unexpected but not necessarily surprising when Youichi thought about it later. Tears sprung from big brown eyes as he stared at Youichi. His mouth was open in what seemed like shock and the tears were beginning to overflow, falling slowly down his face. 

What the fuck?

“What the fuck is wrong with you, chibi?” Youichi signed, forcing himself to glare at the small boy. 

“No one except Mamori-neechan—” or, at least, Youichi assumed the modified sign for kind with the letter M was for the annoying committee member, seeing as they seemed close, “and—” here Kobayakawa made a modified sign for speed with the letter R , “ever bothered to learn. Thank you, Hiruma-san.” 

Youichi couldn’t help but laugh at the name sign. The kid had the nerve to use a modified sign for devil with the letter H . It was a softer cackle than usual. Enough, at least to gain a curious glance from Kurita. 

“What? Were you gonna bring a fucking pen and paper out on the field with you? Fuck no. This is easier, you little shit.” He signed before clicking his tongue in an exaggerated gesture that Kobayakawa would at least see even if he couldn’t hear it. “Now start fucking practicing. You’re already late and you ain’t got time to lose.”

Youichi watched as Kobayakawa nodded and headed to the team’s club room to get changed. He was already wearing the number twenty-one jersey and Youichi left a helmet with an eyeshield on one of the small tables next to it. He smirked when the kid waltzed out wearing the uniform. Youichi was glad it fit. He’d had to order a special size for Kurita because the pads only added to his friend’s bulk. 

Ignoring said friend’s numerous questions about the encounter between Youichi and Kobayakawa, he headed back to the football he had dropped a few yards away. He’d fill Kurita in later. They had practice and, as Youichi had pointed out before, no time to lose. 

 

The rest of spring break practice goes as well as Youichi expected it to. Of course there was shit that went wrong, but Youichi had accounted for that when he mapped out exactly how the break would go. Still, he wished he had been wrong. At least then it could have gone better. 

The first instance was when Kobayakawa was running with a tire dragging behind his tiny form. Kurita had gone over to let him know they were taking a short break. Even Youichi knew the importance of rest. What he didn’t know was how the boy would react to Kurita. 

“Sena-kun?” Kurita called, more out of habit than anything else. Kobayakawa tended to ditch his hearing aids when he wore his helmet (if he remembered to bring them at all). He had told Kurita before that he could hear really loud noises like fireworks, but they were muffled to his ears without the aids. That meant if you wanted to tell him something and he couldn’t see you, you had to get his attention. Kurita made the mistake of grabbing the boy’s shoulder and shaking it slightly. 

Kobayakawa let out a high pitched sound as he spun around and lifted his arms in a defensive position in front of his face. There was no reason for the action. He was wearing a helmet and no matter how often Youichi shot at him, the chibi knew that he was worth more in one piece. That only left one option: instinct.

Just how many times had someone hurt this boy in the past that his first instinct upon unexpected touch was to protect himself from pain? What confused Youichi even more was the fact that he hadn’t tried to run. With those legs, no bully could catch up to him. Or was it because he didn’t have anywhere to run? Was it something at home? 

Youichi made a mental note to do some more research in depth into Kobayakawa’s life after practice. He snapped his fingers in front of the boy’s face to get his attention.

“What the hell, chibi? If you’re gonna react like that, you gotta fucking tell us. We can’t do shit if you don’t let us know what’s up.” The words were kind enough that they shouldn’t make Kobayakawa start crying and that they made Youichi want to cringe. He’s the Devil of Deimon for fuck’s sake. He shouldn’t be kind at all. 

“You’re not mad?”

Youichi couldn’t help but stare at Kobayakawa for a moment. How stupid is he?

“Mad? The fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m not gonna start askin’ you to spill whatever shit you’ve got goin’ on, but if it’s gonna affect practice or gameplay, you gotta tell us. Got it, chibi?”

A single tear appeared beneath the eyeshield blocking most of Kobayakawa’s face and he made an aborted motion, as if to spread his arms. Youichi could only imagine what kind of stupid shit he had been about to pull and forced himself to ignore the spark of disappointment in his chest. 

What the hell?

Instead, Kobayakawa just nodded before turning back to Kurita and asking what he needed. In the past few weeks, the fatty had managed to understand the basics, but his own signs were usually jumbled. Youichi watched with mild amusement as Kobayakawa tried to decipher what Kurita was signing, no small amount of confusion on the small boy’s face. It was amazing how he couldn’t hide anything. Every emotion he felt was displayed for the world to see. 

Youichi couldn’t bring himself to watch. 

 

It happened again at the base. 

While Kobayalawa had seemed (rightfully) hesitant about breaking into a military base, Youichi had managed to convince the boy that it was no big deal. And if he had to restock on ammo later, that was Youichi’s business and no one else’s. 

The soldiers welcomed Youichi and Kurita with slaps on the back and boisterous laughter. With a warning look from Youichi, they refrained from being too rough with Kobayakawa but didn’t keep from ruffling his hair genially or punching his shoulder. Luckily, he didn’t have any adverse responses to the actions. Youichi wasn’t sure why that made the corners of his lips want to lift just a bit. 

Before he could change from his school uniform, Youichi felt a tug on his jacket and turned to see Kobayakawa looking up at him. There was hesitance in his face that made something churn in Youichi’s stomach. Why couldn’t this running back just make a decision and stick with it?

“What?” He signed, not attempting to hide the annoyance in his face or movements. 

“Well, I just—” Kobayakawa paused and took a deep breath. “How do you know them?” He gestured toward the soldiers that were standing on the field not too far away, already wearing pads and worn out jerseys. 

“I snuck in one day and saw ‘em playin’. Bastards couldn’t get rid of me after that.” Youichi supplied rather than answering. It was vague enough to keep the air of anonymity and enigmaticness but told Kobayakawa enough that he would probably stop asking. Without waiting for a response, Youichi made his way to the locker room and began changing. Out the open door, he could see Kurita talking to Kobayakawa. Well, signing to him. Kurita had always had loose lips. Youichi looked away and continued changing. 

The scrimmages hadn’t been too bad. Sure, the team with Youichi, Kurita, and Kobayakawa lost almost all of their matches, but it was a learning experience. That didn’t mean Youichi wasn’t annoyed. 

“Oi,” Youichi called out as Kobayakawa left the locker room. He had been the last one to leave and Youichi knew he made sure to bring his hearing aids today. The younger boy paused, turning almost in a full circle before his eyes found Youichi. “Fucking chibi, when I tell you to run, you run. Got it?”

Kobayakawa nodded, his eyes wide as he stared and took half a step back.

Youichi laughed at the reaction and reached up to flick his ear. Before his hand could even make contact with skin, Kobayakawa was already a meter away, hands covering his ears and body curled in on itself. Youichi didn’t really know what to do. 

“Chibi?” The boy only flinched. “Yo, what the fuck?”

This time, there was a whimper and Youichi dared to take a step closer to the cowering boy. He hadn’t been that scary, right? No one had reacted to him like that in years. Not since he learned to control the Devil. 

“Kobayakawa, what the hell?” His voice was softer than he intended and contrasted the words he used, but Youichi couldn’t bring himself to care when the boy in question finally looked at Youichi. “ What is it? ”

When Kobayakawa didn’t answer, Youichi took another step closer. Kobayakawa took a step back. He tried not to let the strange pang of something in his chest at the movement distract him. 

“Chibi, you should know by now that you’re of more use to the team in one piece. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” 

And maybe there was something in Youichi’s face or maybe the way his hands shaped each word, but Kobayakawa lowered his hands and straightened his posture just slightly before launching himself at Youichi. For his size, the boy packed a punch, knocking the air out of an unprepared Youichi as he barrelled into the tall boy and wrapped his skinny arms around him. 

“What the fuck?” Youichi whispered, not quite able to get much louder with the lack of oxygen in his lungs. A bit too gently, he pushed on Kobayakawa’s shoulder. The boy released his hold immediately and was, once again, a full meter away from Youichi. Although he wasn’t cowering this time, which seemed like a good sign. 

He did, however, begin frantically signing. Youichi didn’t understand all of it, but he did catch the repeated action of “Sorry”.

“Whatever,” Youichi mumbled, sure to keep his voice loud enough that Kobayakawa would actually hear him. “Just—look at me.”

“Sorry.” Kobayakawa signed one more time, finally lifting his face.

“Look, I don’t know what the fuck happened to you. Whatever it was, obviously no one fucking reported it, because it wasn’t in any of your records. I said I wouldn’t pry, but if whatever happened is gonna affect you on the field, you gotta let us know.” 

“Bullies,” The word made the corners of Youichi’s vision turn red. He isn’t sure why. “When I was little, like before my hearing was totally gone, they would pull on my hearing aids and say I was faking it. One time, they—well, they pulled one out while I was on a riverbank and I lost my balance. I fell into the water and hit my head. The doctors said it damaged my ears and sped up my hearing loss.”

And Youichi, well, Youichi couldn’t help but stare. He could not comprehend why someone would do something like that. For all that he is, Youichi was not cruel for the sake of being cruel. Even he knows that. The things he does, he does as an exchange. He won’t let certain information out if you do him a favor, if you give him something in return. And if you hurt him or one of his, you have a price to pay. 

Youichi held his hands out to sign partially out of instinct and partially because he cannot bring himself to say the words out loud. 

“Me and Kurita—” Here he used the sign he had seen Kobayakawa use in the past; a modified sign for protect with the letter K , “wouldn’t do that.” Youichi held up a hand to stop Kobayakawa as the younger boy moved to begin signing. “But that kind of shit doesn’t just go away. You don’t have to tell us everything, but you gotta tell us something or we can’t help.”

“I just don’t want to be a burden. We lost a lot today and I know you like to win and I feel like I disappointed you, especially in the place that made you love football.” 

Whatever response Youichi could have had prepared just flew out the window because he had not been expecting that. What the hell had that fatty told Kobayakawa about his time at the base? Just how many secrets had he let spill?

“I don’t need a machine or a soldier. I need teammates.” Is all he can respond with before turning away. When he doesn’t hear footsteps following behind, he turns his head so Kobayakawa can at least see his lips. “You coming, chibi?”

He keeps walking but he doesn’t need to look back again.

Notes:

I’m really high rn and I had smth I was gonna put here, but I forgot what it was so you don’t get to experience whatever galaxy brain thought I had. That sucks for you.

Also, sign language is a very blunt language so I apologize if any characters come off as slightly ooc while signing.

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Chapter 3

Notes:

TW for self-worth issues and self-deprecation

Also, this fic will not have an update schedule. It is up to the writing gods when the inspiration strikes and I can update. I'll try to keep it at least twice a month, though.

There were only nine days of spring break left, but Sena was almost certain he wouldn't make it to high school. Not if he was late for practice. No matter how much Kurita insisted that Hiruma wouldn’t hurt him and no matter how many times Hiruma insisted that Sena is of more use in one piece, he couldn’t help but think about how close the bullets had gotten the last time he had been late. 

In his rush, Sena made the brilliant decision to take a shortcut. Usually he avoided taking alleyways for obvious reasons, even if he did know Deimon like the back of his hand. Compared to Hiruma, though, no thug or delinquent was scary enough to make him take any longer than he needed. And of course it was the shortcut that made him even more late than before. 

Rounding the corner out of an alley, Sena flinched as he rammed right into three boys. They were tall and looked like your typical delinquents. One of them even had a scar on his face. It was a bit intimidating, but the image of Hiruma Youichi tamped down any fear Sena may have felt. 

One of them said something, but the sun was coming from behind the boys so Sena couldn't see their faces and he had gotten into the habit of not wearing his hearing aids to practice. The sweat wasn’t good for them anyway. Sena decided that bowing quickly would have to be enough of an apology before he slid around them and raced toward Deimon High at full speed. 

Arriving at the clubhouse, Sena slid the door open fast enough for it to slam against the wall and saw the clock across the room. 

7:59

Thank fuck.

Hiruma didn’t say anything. He simply glanced up from the gun he had been polishing and raised a single eyebrow at Sena. Sena couldn’t do much else but bow in apology. Hiruma stared for a moment longer before jerking his head toward the changing area of their small club room and focusing once again on his gun. 

It wasn’t until he had changed and left the room that he found the three boys from earlier had followed him all the way to the club room. At least, that’s what Sena assumed. He’s not really sure what other reason anyone would have to come to the Deimon High Football Clubroom, knowing who, exactly, would be there. 

Sena felt a tap on his arm.

“These fuckers said they were lookin’ for you. You know ‘em?” Hiruma signed. 

“I bumped into them on my way here. They must have followed me.”

Hiruma’s smirk turned dangerous, but Sena wasn’t scared for himself. No, the smile was directed at the three boys currently being held hostage in Kurita’s arms. Hiruma said something that Sena couldn’t quite make out with the way the taller boy’s face was angled away, but Kurita just nodded with a wide smile and squeezed past Sena to carry the three boys into the very small changing room. 

“Nice job with the new recruits, chibi.” The smirk on Hiruma’s face was just as dangerous now that it was directed at Sena, but he can’t gather the nerve to feel scared of it. If anything, it looks nice. 

(Wait, what?)

“I didn’t really recruit them as much as piss them off and make them follow me here.”

Hiruma laughed as he signed his response and Sena sort of wished he had brought his hearing aids so he could listen to it. 

(Fuck.)

“That’s how the Devil Bats do things.”

And Sena doesn’t even want to stop the smile that breaks out, practically splitting his face in two. He knew there were more teeth showing than in one of his normal smiles, but maybe that’s alright. After all, Devil Bats are known to bare their teeth.

Practice went well enough. Even with the newly dubbed sankyoudai (even if they’re not related) targeting Sena during their mock scrimmages. It doesn’t even dampen the mood, though, because they finally have enough people to actually do mock scrimmages. Against all odds, Sena hopes they have enough real teammates to form a whole team someday.

And even if he doesn’t show it openly, Sena can see how happy Hiruma is in the way his calls are more aggressive and how his smile isn’t as sharp around the edges. Less projected danger in his stare. 

Really, though, what made practice great was Hiruma interpreting for the sankyoudai because they didn’t know any sign language. Sure, a middle finger is pretty obvious, but other than that, they’re hopeless. Sena liked the way Hiruma made fun of the new Devil Bats (at least, Sena hopes they will be) every time he signed and he can tell that the quarterback wasn’t exactly transcribing Sena’s signs word-for-word. It’s fun, the unpredictability that comes with Hiruma. Something Sena has grown to appreciate in the past weeks. 

By the time the sun is low enough on the horizon to paint the sky every imaginable shade of pink and orange and purple and blue (gosh, Sena loves sunsets), Hiruma has declared that practice is over. As Sena was headed to the locker room to change, he noted Hiruma calling the sankyoudai over, his favorite rifle resting on his shoulder. Kurita quickly turned Sena around and led him to the locker room. 

 

The next morning, Sena arrived on the field to find five people already there. 

“The sankyoudai are here?” Sena asked with just a bit too much hope on his face. He wasn’t sure why he wanted them to stay, why he wanted to add to this team. Maybe because Hiruma and Kurita were the first people to ever just accept Sena as is. To tell him he can improve and that they will be by his side during the entirety of that journey. 

Kurita nodded excitedly, smiling so wide it almost split his face. Sena notes that Kurita hasn’t exactly mastered the kind of grin Hiruma seems to excel at, but also knows that there’s something special in the pure kindness of Kurita’s smiles. A different kindness to Hiruma. 

“I’m pretty sure Hiruma is blackmailing them, but I hope they can grow to love football.” Came Kurita’s shaky signs. The words were in the wrong order and some of the signs were incorrect, but Sena was just glad he had friends willing to put in the effort. 

“Me too.”

The pattern continues for the rest of the break, and Sena thinks he can slowly see the sankyoudai warming up to the sport and to their (sort of) teammates. They even learned a few signs, though most were quite rude and the others were football-related. It still made Sena’s chest warm to know that they cared enough about communicating with him to learn that much. 

Kurita had noted their growth as well. Apparently getting repeatedly thrown to the ground hurt their pride enough to make them actually put in the effort. Kurita had fussed over them every time they went down while Hiruma cackled a few meters away. It was nice, Sena realized. To have a team.

They had even started smirking when they managed to tackle Sena. 

Toganou had made multiple manga recommendations to Sena. And even if Sena couldn’t reply to his ramblings, he enjoyed watching Toganou talk about the latest chapters of his favorite manga. Sometimes, when Sena thought to bring his hearing aids with him, he would participate in the conversation, using simple signs or gestures to communicate his own opinions. 

Kuroki was probably the most violent out of the three and definitely the one Sena was the most hesitant about growing closer to. In the end, Sena had been playing a game on his old gameboy during one of their breaks when Kuroki appeared over his shoulder and said something. When Sena gestured to his ears to show he couldn’t hear, Kuroki had sat himself down on the grass next to him and pulled out a small pad of paper. After that, Sena realized that Kuroki wasn’t nearly as scary as he seemed. Sure, he was violent, but that violence was usually in defense of himself or his friends. It was actually kind of sweet.

While Juumonji wasn’t quite as scary as Kuroki, he was the most difficult to get closer to. He seemed to have a personal grudge against football and everyone involved with it. Sena had witnessed him lecturing Toganou and Kuroki multiple times before when they showed any kind of fondness toward the sport. For the past week, Sena had made absolutely no progress in bonding with his new teammate. 

“What do you want?” Juumonji growled one day after practice. Sena had brought his hearing aids because his mother needed eggs for dinner and asked him to stop by the store on the way home. 

“Friends.” Sena signed, hoping the hesitant smile on his face helped to portray what he was asking for. 

“Look, I don’t know what you’re saying, but you should just stay away from us.” Juumonji said, turning away from the shorter boy and shoving his hands into his pockets. Sena ran around him to block his path. 

“Why?” Sena knew that the sankyoudai at least knew basic questions. After an entire week of forced lessons from Hiruma and Kurita (who both seemed to think Sena did not know about them).

“We ain’t exactly good company.”

His face fell and Sena could just barely hear him sigh. A few meters behind him, Toganou and Kuroki were talking animatedly to each other, bright smiles on their faces. Sena wanted all of his teammates to smile like that. 

“Why?” Sena asked again, taking a step closer to Juumonji.

“Because we’re delinquents. We—we’re the trash of society. The gum on the bottom of this world’s fucking boot.”

Toganou and Kuroki froze where they were at the words. Their smiles disappeared and they both fell into a similar posture to Juumonji. 

Sena had been bullied enough to know what it was to be told something until you believed it yourself. To repeat those words in your head and out loud because they were all you knew. It hadn’t been until Hiruma and Kurita smashed into Sena’s life that he even realized what he had been doing. 

“Who?” Who told you that? Who made you think you were less than? Who convinced you that you aren’t worth it?

Juumonji didn’t quite understand what he meant, his face twisting into a confused scowl. 

“Us. Me and Toganou and Kuroki. We ain’t good company. Not for someone like you.” Sena couldn’t help but point at himself in question. “Someone good. You got skill and you’re nice to people even if they ain’t done nothing to deserve it. People like us don’t hang out with people like you unless we’re ordering you around.”

And Sena had so much to say to that. So much to tell them that he couldn’t because they wouldn’t understand. No matter how different they were, these boys had experienced the same thing Sena had. Except, no one had been there to pull them out of their pit of despair. He took a deep breath.

“No…” Sena mumbled, his voice slightly scratchy from lack of use. He was so focused on forming the words that he didn’t even notice the looks of surprise on all five other boy’s faces. “Don’t listen. You’re good too. Not trash.”

It wasn’t enough. There was so much more he wanted to say and Sena hated the stupid communication barrier between them more than he ever had before. But his throat already hurt and he couldn’t bring himself to look Juumonji in the eye after hearing his own garbled voice filtered through his hearing aids. Sena wasn’t sure he could remember the last time he spoke aloud to anyone outside his family. Even then, it was a rare occurrence. 

“Sena…” Juumonji’s voice was so quiet, he almost didn’t catch it. 

“What the chibi is trying to say,” Hiruma quickly cut in, standing beside Sena, angled so his body was partially between the two boys. “Is that only weak fuckers let other people tell them who they are, and we don’t have any weak fuckers on this team. Yeah?”

He turned to look at Sena, directing the question toward the running back. Sena couldn’t do much else but nod.

“Yeah!” Kurita exclaimed, wrapping his arms around all three boys and lifting them into the air. “You’re one of us now, so if you’re trash, so are we. We aren’t trash, right?”

“Ha?”

“Haa?”

“Haaa?”

“Of course you ain’t!” Kuroki called out, still struggling to escape Kurita’s hold. 

“Then neither are you shits.” Hiruma responded, rifle balancing gently on his shoulder and a certain glint in his eye that showed just how much he cared for this team. 

Sena tugged on Juumonji’s jacket sleeve to get his attention before signing, “Team. Friends.” And gesturing toward the group as a whole. The second time around, Juumonji seemed to understand what the sign meant as some of the tension in his body bled out. After a few more moments (and a threat from Hiruma) Kurita finally released the three boys from his hold.

The four future Devil Bats walked home together that day and Sena doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the smiles on his teammate’s faces.

Notes:

bro i cried writing this chapter

First time we get to see Sena actually speak. We’ll see it more in the future, but not too much. Also, the sankyoudai have trauma, too! Never forget that. This team is going to heal as a fucking family whether they like it or not.

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Chapter 4

Notes:

TW for, like microaggressions i guess

The first day of school was an experience that Sena had experienced many times before, but it felt different this time. It wasn’t that he was the new kid or even that he was the only deaf kid. Even the way Mamori appeared on his front step to escort him to school wasn’t much of a change. She had done it all through middle school, even though it meant she had to make a detour on her way to her own school. Her hands smoothed the front of Sena’s too-big blazer and straightened his tie as she checked to make sure he’s wearing his hearing aids and has his bag and his phone and—

“Mamori-neechan, we’re going to be late.” He signed, freeing his hands from her fretting ones.

“Oh, alright.” She finally conceded, stepping out onto the sidewalk so they could begin the short walk to Deimon High School. “I just worry about you. You’re so small and weak and I’m worried that kids will make fun of you because of your… hearing issues.”

Sena understood. Really, he did. It made sense to worry about the small deaf kid who didn’t know how to stand up for himself. Except, after an entire spring break with Hiruma, that didn’t exactly describe Sena anymore. Sure, he was still short and deaf, but he put on some muscle and he had at least learned how to set boundaries (at Hiruma’s insistence). He had changed so much in so little time, but Mamori remained static as ever.

No, the difference laid in his newfound teammates. His friends. Three of whom were in Sena’s class. And Sena had Hiruma to thank for that. Without him dragging the cowardly middle schooler to practice and forcing him to join the football team, Sena would probably have ended up as the sankyoudai’s gopher. But now, even as they sit in the back of the classroom and Sena sits in the front (it’s always easier to hear or read the board if he forgets his hearing aids), he can practically feel their gazes on his back. 

After setting his bag by his seat, Sena headed back to where the three boys sat in the back corner. 

“Good morning!” Sena signed, not bothering to hide his smile. 

“Mornin’,” Toganou said, putting his manga on the desk in front of him. “Why’re you sittin’ up front?”

Rather than signing a response, Sena pointed at the teacher’s podium then at his hearing aids. The three boys seemed to understand. Sena looked at the clock and saw there were still a few minutes before class started for them to talk, so he settled down in an empty seat near their desks and tried his best to participate in the conversation. 

The teacher finally arrived and everyone took their seats. After introducing himself, the teacher went around and had each student introduce themselves. When it comes to Sena, the teacher had him come up to the board and write his name and middle school. He then explained that Sena is deaf to the rest of the class. It isn’t the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done but Sena thought it might be up in the top ten as the whole class stared at him. 

Classes end early that day as students shuffled out to the main entrance to see the second-years at various club booths, calling for new members. Sena and the sankyoudai headed over to the table being manned by Kurita, Hiruma nowhere in sight. 

“Hello, Sena.” Kurita greeted, signing as he spoke. He also turned to the other three boys to greet them before turning back to Sena, who was searching their general vicinity. “Hiruma said he didn’t have time for ‘pointless recruitment bullshit’.”

The first-years laughed at the way Kurita rubbed the back of his neck as he quoted their quarterback. Even when they’re not his own words, Kurita hated cursing. 

“It’s okay, Kurita-san. I’m sure we’ll get at least one recruit.”

They do not, in fact, get a recruit. Apparently, even with Hiruma’s absence, the students of Deimon High knew better than to approach the football team. It doesn’t seem fair to Sena, who knows that Hiruma wasn’t a bad person. Sure, he was a bit sadistic and the sight of his little black book could probably terrify even the most powerful people, but he did it out of his love for the game. He did it to win. Sena had never really won anything before, so he didn’t quite get it, but he knew how important it was to Hiruma and that’s all he really needed to know. 

Only slightly dejected, the Sena accompanied Kurita to the club room to break the news to Hiruma. The sankyoudai declined the offer to join them, citing pre-existing plans. Sena knew it was an excuse so they didn’t have to risk interacting with an annoyed Hiruma Youichi, but didn't say anything to them. 

Opening the door, Kurita stopped in the opening, large frame blocking Sena’s view of the room. He tugged on the taller boy’s jacket to get his attention. 

“What is it?” He signed, trying to peek his head around Kurita’s body. 

“Hiruma is, uh…” Kurita trailed off, glancing back into the room. “He’s busy. We can come back later.”

Without another word, Sena was ushered away from the club room and back toward the school. Every time he tried to even get a glance at the clubhouse slowly disappearing in the distance, Kurita placed a gentle hand on Sena’s shoulder to lead him in the opposite direction. 

Sena, however, was a naturally curious person and recently, that curiosity had been encouraged by those around him. That meant the moment Kurita looked away, Sena used the speed that he had honed as a means of escape and decided to run toward something instead of away from it. 

 

Youichi hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep since he heard Kobayakawa’s voice. Honestly, he had been a bit peeved that the running back hadn’t spoken to him first. Then, he had laid in bed wondering why he cared so much. It wasn’t like Youichi never struggled to fall asleep. His brain worked so much that it sometimes couldn’t shut itself off, which led to sleepless nights. But this time was different. 

All those other times, Youichi had been able to put his brain to work. Use it until it finally shut down and he pretty much passed out. Not the healthiest lifestyle, but it worked for Youichi. This time, though, his brain was simply playing that moment on loop, repeating the words in that scratchy voice over and over. He couldn’t even distract himself with football. 

That was how, three days later, Youichi found himself texting some bullshit excuse to Kurita before passing out in the club room. 

It was honestly some of the most peaceful sleep Youichi had gotten as of late. While he wouldn’t openly admit it, the stress of the approaching football season (along with it being Youichi’s last chance in high school) was making his already short nights even more restless. Maybe he should pass out more often. 

When he felt consciousness begin clawing at the edges of his sleep-addled brain, Youichi groaned, pushing his face further into the warm pillow beneath his head. In his dream, he could hear humming and airy laughter. It was nice. He probably would have fallen asleep again if not for the feeling of gentle fingers carding their way through his hair, too real to be a dream. 

Youichi’s eyes went wide as he realized the sounds he had heard were not part of his dream either. And that the shitty couch in the club room didn’t have any pillows on it. 

Above him, Youichi saw Kobayakawa Sena with a soft smile on his face. There was a single moment where Youichi simply stared. He could hear Kobayakawa’s soft humming and held himself back from leaning into the fingers in his hair. The moment was shattered when Kobayakawa saw Youichi’s open eyes. 

“Sorry,” Kobayakawa signed hastily, oddly enough not making any move to create distance between them. “I came in to check on you and saw you sleeping. When I sat down, you just sort of just grabbed me and moved here.” 

At the last words, Kobayakawa gestures to their current entanglement. Youichi’s head resting on Kobayakawa’s strong thighs, face dangerously close to nuzzling into the boy’s stomach. 

“And the humming and playing with my hair?” Youichi teased, desperate to gain any sliver of control in their conversation but still not willing to move. 

“Your hair was in your face, so I brushed it away and you seemed to enjoy it so I kept going.” 

The idea of losing control of his actions as he slept made Youichi horribly uncomfortable, but the red slowly crawling up Kobayakawa’s cheeks almost made it worth it. Youichi can’t say for sure that he would rather be watched over by anyone else as he sleeps. At least he knows the running back won’t tease him about it like Kurita or Musashi would. And if Youichi were to ask, he was sure Kobayakawa would never mention this moment between them ever again. 

“And the humming?”

The flush made its way higher on Kobayakawa’s face and suddenly Youichi needed the answer. 

“When I have trouble sleeping, my mom sometimes holds me and hums. The feel of the vibrations is nice, so I thought it might relax you. Sorry if I woke you.”

The signs are quick and frantic, as if Kobayakawa is trying to get them all out before something happens. Maybe before he loses his nerve. Youichi didn’t respond, forcing himself into a sitting position. He didn’t miss the small frown on Kobayakawa’s face at the movement. It made something hot grow in his core. 

“For someone who can’t hear, you’re pretty good at it.” Youichi mumbled, looking straight into Kobayakawa’s eyes as if daring the boy to refute his claim. “But don’t even fucking think about leaving for goddamn show choir or some shit. I will kill you.”

There’s the laugh again. Less breathy with more voice and intent behind it, but the same laugh Youichi had heard moments ago. He thought that it might be a nice sound. Youichi glances at the clock to find that it is late into the evening. Just how long had Kobayakawa been there?

“There’s no practice today. Go home.” He ordered, standing up and gathering his things. He turned to see Kobayakawa standing from the couch as well, picking up his own bag. The running back’s face, still red, and Youichi finds the color fitting on him. 

“Good night, Hiruma-san.” Kobayakawa signed. He bows once and leaves the room before Youichi could respond. Youichi could only watch as his form quickly disappeared in the distance.

Notes:

Mamori will get better, but she has to go through growth just like everyone else, so be patient.

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Chapter 5

“We need a receiver.” Hiruma announced as the six current members of the Deimon Football Team sat in the locker room around an old, rickety table. Sena slowly began to lift his hand only to receive a sharp look from Hiruma. “Someone who can catch my fucking passes. Without one, we can only run the ball and that’ll never take us to the Christmas Bowl.”

“Preferably someone tall. The taller the passes are, the more difficult they are to block, and taller catchers can usually catch higher passes.” Kurita explained.

“But all the tall kids are already in other sports.”  Juumonji grunted, pushing himself off the wall of the club room he had been leaning against. “What do you want us to do? Kidnap them?”

The grin on Hiruma’s face said all Sena needed to know. That was exactly what their captain wanted them to do. Sena couldn’t help the soft groan that escaped his mouth, and while it had been quiet enough that he, himself couldn’t hear it, Hiruma’s head spun around so he could stare down Sena. 

“What? Can’t do it, chibi?” And there was something about the way Hiruma’s mouth formed the words, the glint in his emerald eyes, that told Sena this was a challenge. A direct challenge from Hiruma Youichi. Sena didn’t even notice the way the corners of his lips lifted just slightly as he gave a single nod. 

“Of course I can.”

“Good.” Hiruma answered, turning to look at the rest of the group with a similar challenge in his eye, but not before Sena saw what looked like a spark of approval on their captain’s face. 

Which led to Sena standing by the baseball fields of Deimon High School, completely and utterly lost. He didn’t have any classes on that side of the building and no one around him knew how to sign. Sure, he could hear them with his hearing aids in, but he couldn’t ask anyone for directions. 

As he stood there, helpless and wishing he had brought a pen and pad of paper, Sena decided he may as well watch baseball for the time being. If he was late for anything, Hiruma would send Cerberus. It wasn’t ideal, but it was his best option at the moment. And, really, it was. Until a baseball came flying out of left field toward Sena. Not that he saw it. 

“Watch out!” A voice called. Sena spun around, trying to pinpoint the source of the noise. As he turned to face the field yet again, he was met with a shadow blocking the sun from Sena’s vision, arm reaching out to catch the ball that had been hurdling his way. It seemed to happen in slow motion and Sena could almost see the lightbulb that went off in his head. Catching. Wide receivers had to be good at catching. 

As the boy turned around to look at Sena and the running back noticed how he looked about the same height. He couldn’t have been more than 160 centimeters and even that was a stretch. Quickly, Sena bowed in thanks.

“Oh, it was nothing. I’m gonna be a catch master someday, so you were just giving me extra practice. You really should be more aware of your surroundings, though.” The boy (whose name Sena still did not know) said, scratching the back of his neck with his gloveless hand. “I’m Raimon Tarou, but everyone calls me Monta.”

Sena took the offered hand and shook it. For a moment they both stared at each other before Sena realized Monta wanted his name, too. Before he could come up with some way to let Monta know his name, someone was calling him away. 

“Nice to meet you.” He called before jogging back onto the field. 

Sena waved back distractedly, thoughts occupied by how the hell he was supposed to get Monta to join the football team when he clearly seemed so enamored with baseball. Sena shook his head and headed back toward the school. Maybe he could find a teacher or someone who would let him borrow a page from their notebook. 

 

Youichi was pretty sure (about 93.2% sure) Kobayakawa was distracted by something. He had gotten tackled by the sankyoudai more than normal, which meant the delinquents weren’t having a good time with the challenge Kobayakawa usually presented. It was bad enough that even Kurita looked worried. Finally, after what had to be the fiftieth tackle, Hiruma let out a frustrated groan and called practice short. They weren’t going to get anything done with their running back not giving his all. 

As they all changed and made their way out of the locker room, Youichi pulled out his favorite rifle and pressed it up against Kobayakawa’s forehead. 

“Not you, chibi.”

Youichi could see Kobayakawa’s throat bob with a nervous swallow at the words. Or, maybe it was the gun pressed to his face. Either way, Youichi was going to figure out what was bothering his running back. For the good of the team, of course. 

“What is it, Hiruma-san?” Kobayakawa signed, his hands shaking just slightly. Youichi finally lowered the gun and dropped it on the table to free both hands. 

“You’re distracted. We ain’t gonna win the Christmas Bowl without your full commitment.”

Kobayakawa’s face shifted just slightly, the fear leaving only to be replaced with some emotion Youichi couldn’t quite place. 

“Were you worried, Hiruma-san?”

Fuck. No, Youichi was not worried. He just wanted the team to be the best it could be, because that was the only way they were going to the Christmas Bowl. He was not worried. He told Kobayakawa as much. Youichi wanted to rip his hair out when the boy simply smiled and nodded placatingly. 

“Oh, fuck you, chibi.” He signed, hands itching to pick up his gun again. Before he could, Kobayakawa’s hands began moving.

“I think I found someone to be our wide receiver. I just have to get him to join the team.” 

Youichi’s hands stopped twitching and his mouth stretched into his signature Devil Bat Grin. To anyone else, it would have struck fear into their very soul, but Youichi watched as Kobayakawa held back a laugh at his reaction. He decided to ignore it in favor of pulling out his Little Black Book, waiting expectantly for Kobayakawa to give him the name. 

He froze as two small hands landed on his own. Youichi followed the hands with his eyes, up the arm to the face, finding Kobayakawa with an almost apologetic look on his face. Youichi ignored the way his hands burned where Kobayakawa touched them and the way they felt too cold as the shorter boy pulled his hands away. 

“You wanted teammates. He has to join on his own.”

And fuck if it didn’t make Youichi want to both grin at and shoot Kobayakawa for using his own words against him. It wasn’t like he could oppose the words. Not logically. But there was something about Kobayakawa that made logic seem irrelevant. It was very annoying. Before he could even come up with a response, Kobayakawa began signing again. 

“You just make the sankyoudai learn to love football and I’ll do the same for—” Here Kobayakawa does a modified sign for catch with the letter M . “You’ll have teammates before you know it.”

“We will.” Youichi signed impulsively, instantly regretting the way the words make him sound so nice. “You’re part of this team whether you wanna be or not, chibi.” 

Kobayakawa only smiled at his signs, letting Youichi know that his attempt to create the distance he had grown so used to was an utter failure. 

“Don’t worry, Hiruma-san. I won’t let you down.”

For some godforsaken reason, Hiruma believes him. But, really, what on the Deimon Devil Bats football team hasn’t been forsaken by God. A team of misfits that don’t fit anywhere. Well, except on the football field. 

“Then hurry the fuck up and get us our wide receiver.” 

The smile on Kobayakawa’s face only grew and Youichi had to physically restrain himself from looking away in an attempt to not be blinded. Apparently the running back hid the fucking sun in his mouth and only let it out when he smiled. He can only retaliate by flicking Kobayakawa’s ear, reveling in the red that grows on his face and the fact that the short boy didn’t flinch away that time. 

Before Kobayakawa can get any ideas and sign something in response to Youichi’s actions, he spins around and quickly made his way out the doorway, forcing himself to keep his eyes forward and not look back at the boy behind him.

Notes:

Is…is that character growth I see? Oof, no idea where that came from.

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Chapter 6

Notes:

TW for the amount of times the word ‘MAX’ appears in this chapter.

“I’m not interested in playing rugby.” Tarou called behind him for what must have been the tenth time that day. Whoever this kid was, he seemed as MAX stubborn as Tarou himself, refusing to give up until Tarou finally gave in. 

Just the day before, Tarou had heard from one of his classmates that the boy, Kobayakawa Sena, was deaf. It was hard to believe someone like that played such a violent sport, but the only thing Tarou was good at was catching and he was still determined to play baseball. He didn’t really have any right to dump on other people’s dreams for seeming unrealistic. 

Really, he almost respected the boy for his MAX determination. No matter how many times Tarou pushed away the papers with speeches about the benefits of playing or some other bull about whatever game he was trying to sell, he just wouldn’t give up. Even as Tarou tore up the notes left in his shoe locker and pointedly avoided Sena every time he was in Tarou’s general vicinity, he kept trying. But Tarou wasn’t one to give up. He was going to be a catching master, just like his idol. 

Sena sped in front of Tarou, stopping to scribble something on another piece of paper. 

‘Just come to one practice. Just to see what it’s like.’

And maybe Tarou was tempted. Third string didn’t even have practice. Or, at least, they didn’t have mandatory practice. Usually it was just Tarou there anyway, seeing as no one else showed up to the dilapidated field used for third string practices. Sometimes the second string players would even show up and kick him out so they could split up and have more room for practice. Currently, his dream seemed to be on MAX hold. 

Tarou looked over Sena one more time, taking in the hopeful look on his face. 

“Fine, but I’m not playing or anything. Just to watch.”

To say Sena lit up at his words would be an understatement. His whole body seemed to both relax and tense up at the same time, as if he were holding himself back from jumping for joy. Tarou felt MAX pride that he was the one to do that. Sena then reached forward to grab Tarou’s hands before bowing deeply. Tarou couldn’t even get another word out before the boy was speeding away once again. After a moment, Tarou realized that Sena had placed a piece of paper in his palm. He unfolded it to reveal a place and time as well as a short note that read ‘It’s American Football, not rugby. See you at practice!'

Okay, it was official, Tarou MAX respected this kid. 

 

Or maybe he was just scared of him, Tarou thought as he watched Sena interacting with the Devil of Deimon as if they were the closest of friends. Both of their hands were frantically moving and Tarou could only assume they were using sign language. And either he had been staring too long or they were talking about him because Hiruma turned and sent a wide smile his way. Tarou didn’t think he ever wanted to see teeth again, because he had just seen enough for the rest of his life. Especially not ones as sharp as the ones in Hiruma’s mouth, more fang than anything else. Then they started heading toward Tarou and he fought the MAX urge to run away. He probably wouldn’t be able to escape Sena anyway. 

“Chibi says you can catch.” Hiruma remarked, smug look on his face that almost made Tarou forget about how scared he was supposed to be. Almost. But he soldiered on anyway. 

“Of course I can. I’m going to be a MAX catch master just like Hanjou Masaru-sensei. I can catch anything.”

It was a bold claim, but Tarou was nothing if not MAX bold and he wasn’t going to ever give up on his dream, so what was the point in lying to the Devil?

The smile on his face only grew and Tarou had what he could only describe as a premonition of danger. Nobody’s teeth should be that sharp. Especially not someone who was already as MAX terrifying as Hiruma Youichi. 

But before he could say anything else Sena had grabbed Tarou’s arm and begun pulling him toward what Tarou could only assume was the club room. It was simple inside, a few tables against the wall and some posters hung on the wall. There was a pile of what looked like protective equipment in the corner and Sena dragged Tarou over to it before he could look at anything else. Soon enough, Tarou was outfitted with a full uniform, the number eighty emblazoned on his chest. Sena smiled in a way that Tarou somehow knew said “Perfect.”

“Oi , Chibi, Monkey Boy, get out here.” Hiruma’s voice called from somewhere outside the room. Tarou’s face scrunched at the new nickname, but Sena gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder before jogging onto the field that made him feel a little better. 

Practice was a strange mix of fun and terrifying, with the so-called ‘sankyoudai’ seeming to be gunning for the new guy (not that Tarou considered himself the new guy, he wasn’t even supposed to be playing). Tarou hadn’t even thought before joining the others in their scrimmages. It felt natural for some reason and that MAX scared him. 

His whole life, Tarou had been forced to claw his way into whatever position he could get on local baseball teams. Most times he ended up as a ball boy, but at least he got to be on the field. To be handed a position that seemed specifically fit for Tarou’s talents and goals sounded MAX too good to be true. Then there was the issue of Hanjou Masaru. How was Tarou supposed to live up to his dream of being like Hanjou-san when he wasn’t even playing baseball? He could almost feel the weight of the glove that sat safely in his backpack. 

“Oi, Monkey Boy,” 

Tarou looked up from where he had been staring at his bag to see glowing eyes and rows of MAX sharp teeth. 

“U-um, yes, Hiruma-san?” He grit his teeth to keep them from chattering, but Tarou could tell from the way Hiruma’s smirk shifted that he hadn’t been able to hide his shaking hands. 

“If you ain’t payin’ attention to the field, someone will take you out and take your spot.”

And that was really all he had to say to Tarou. Tarou, who had spent his whole life watching other people doing what he dreamed of. If this was something Tarou could be good at, something he could do that no one else could, why shouldn’t he? 

Out of the corner of his eye, Tarou saw his backpack, abandoned on the hillside. Before he could respond, there was a gentle hand on his shoulder and Tarou turned around to see Sena sign something at him. 

“Oh, I’m MAX sorry, I don’t know sign language.” 

“The Chibi’s asking if you had fun today.” Hiruma clarified, also staring expectantly at Tarou, waiting for his answer. It was MAX creepy how similar they looked at that moment. 

“Yeah, I had fun.” Tarou admitted, not willing to dump any of his issues on Sena. Hiruma wouldn’t care, but Sena would probably MAX care and it would make Tarou feel bad. He had to figure this out on his own. A resolute grin made its way onto his face and Tarou missed the way Hiruma smirked at the sight, glancing over at Sena to see him already looking back. 

 

That night, Tarou sat in front of the small television in his bedroom, watching Hanjou-sensei’s greatest plays and holding his beloved mitt. How had one kid come along and made him, even for a moment, think about giving up on his dream?

“Tarou? Honey? Are you okay in there?” Tarou’s mother called from just outside his room. For her to actually ask him about how he was, Tarou obviously had been doing a MAX terrible job at hiding his feelings. So, he sat there silently, unable to lie to his mother but not wanting to tell her, either. 

A sliver of light cut across Tarou’s dark room as his mother came in, closing the door behind her. The shifting light from the television lit up her face and Tarou couldn’t help but stare as she settled beside him.

“What’s wrong, baby?” She finally asked, nudging him with her shoulder. And if Tarou hadn’t already MAX cried himself out thinking about how he couldn’t look at baseball the same anymore, couldn’t look at his idol the same anymore, after a single football practice, he would have broken into tears then. 

“Ma, what do you do when you have a MAX dream and you’ve planned everything out on how to achieve that dream, but something comes along and makes you MAX question all that?”

One of his mother’s hands came to rest on his mitt with a knowing smile while the other wrapped around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. He could hear her heartbeat in her chest and feel the rumble of her voice as she spoke. 

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a hairstylist. Open my own salon, make people happy. And when your father came along, he was so supportive. He was even willing to help me pay for classes. Everything was going great. Then I got pregnant with you.” Tarou felt his body stiffen. He knew his mom had been young when she had him, sacrificed so much to raise him, but given up on her dream? How could he? “Ichiro was so happy. We weren’t even married yet, but he was so excited to be a father.

“I didn’t know if I was ready for a kid yet. That’s a lot of responsibility and I was only nineteen. And what about my dream? But your father told me he would stay home and take care of you while I went out and took classes and got started.” She pulled away to look at Tarou, right into his soul. “But I realized I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t shove all the responsibility off onto him, because when people are counting on you, you gotta help them out.”

“Do you ever regret it?” Tarou asked, MAX afraid of the answer. 

“No,” His mother answered, running a hand through his hair, nails scratching his skin softly. “I couldn’t miss any of your moments, Tarou. I took a leap of faith by raising you and it was the best decision I ever made.”

“But what about your dream?”

“Dreams shift and change. I still get to cut your hair and your fathers and most of the ladies on the block. I’m still making people happy, even if it's not the way I thought I would be.” She pulled him in for a quick squeeze before hopping up from her place on the ground and pulling Tarou up with her. “Now come on, your father made dinner and you know how he gets when we’re late.”

Tarou laughed as she pulled him along, stopping only long enough for him to gently place his glove in its place on his bedside table. Maybe he could still be a MAX catch master, even if he didn’t do it the same way Hanjou-sensei did.

Notes:

Bro, once you start adding those ‘MAX’ in there, it gets addictive and you just wanna shove them into every sentence. Let it be known that I was tasteful in my distribution of ‘MAX’ (or, at least, I tried to be). Also, I love Tarou’s mom. Just thought you should all know. MILF of the highest degree.

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Chapter 7

Mamori was pretty sure that Sena was hiding something from her. She was even more sure it had something to do with the resident Deimon Devil. 

When Sena had told her that he wanted to apply to Deimon High, Mamori had been against it for a variety of reasons. Of course, she thought he would flourish more in a school with other kids like him, but it was mostly because of their Problem Child. Hiruma Youichi was a menace and Mamori didn’t want him anywhere near poor Sena. Her little brother was a small kid with a weak body. Even if he wasn’t deaf he would be the subject of bullying. No, a school for kids like him would be best. 

But then Sena had been…happy. Mamori hadn’t seen him smile as wide or as much since Riku had moved away. What she couldn’t understand was why he was so happy hanging around people like those three delinquents in his class. Mamori was worried that they were using him as a gopher, bullying him into doing their bidding. After all, it wasn’t like he sat next to them during class. Only before and after, sometimes during lunch. Other times, well, Mamori could never find him those other times. 

She had also heard other student council members (because maybe she had told them to keep an eye on Sena, but he was her little brother and he needed protection) saying he was hanging out with Kurita Ryoukan, who wasn’t too bad on his own, but he was friends with Hiruma, which was never a good sign. 

At least Sena had finally made friends with someone who wasn’t suspicious or dangerous. Raimon Tarou seemed like a good kid. Wasn’t top of the class, but he wasn’t a troublemaker either. The problem came a few weeks after school started and a request came through for Raimon Tarou’s withdrawal from the Baseball Club and entrance into the American Football Club. It all led back to Hiruma Youichi and Mamori was going to find out why. 

The issue was, Mamori had no idea where to start. She could butt in on his lunch time, but bringing more attention to Sena around his aggressors might make them worse. That, and half the time she had no idea where he even ate lunch. Even the three delinquents didn’t seem to know. Before school, she could only walk him so far before they went their separate ways and lately Sena had been leaving earlier and walking alone. After school was worse because Mamori seemed to always have work for the student council so she couldn’t walk him home and when she could, Sena claimed to have plans. 

It was suspicious to say the least. 

Which is why, for the first time since she joined the student council in the first place, Mamori skipped their after-school meeting to follow Sena. She told the others she had a family emergency to take care of, which wasn’t untrue. Sena was like her baby brother and Mamori would do anything to protect him. So, she quietly followed as Sena made his way out of the back doors of the school and headed toward the field. Mamori couldn’t see his face as he opened the door to the American Football Club room. She had been right, Hiruma had something to do with this. 

Mamori couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Without another thought she stormed into the small room after him. Inside, she was met with Sena trembling before Hiruma with his favorite rifle raised in the air. 

“What do you think you’re doing, Hiruma?” Mamori yelled, pulling Sena out of his hold and holding him to her chest. 

“Anezaki,” Hiruma responded, flat and uninterested. “I was just telling the fucking chibi off for being late. Again.”

She can feel the way Sena flinches against her and doesn’t stop the fury rising within her.

“Stay away from Sena, Hiruma. Just because he’s small and weak doesn’t mean you can push him around and force him to do your bidding.” Mamori tightens her grip on Sena and drags him out of the club room. Or, at least, she tries to. Before they can pass over the threshold, Sena is gently peeling himself out of Mamori’s grip and stepping only far enough away to sign something to her. 

“Hiruma-san isn’t forcing me to do anything. I joined the team because I wanted to. I’m having lots of fun with everyone.” 

Mamori felt her heart practically stop in her heart. Was Sena actually playing? He would be destroyed out there. He was so tiny. 

“Sena, you can tell me the truth. I can help you if you just talk to me.” She signs before grabbing Sena’s face and holding it gently between her palms. 

He stares at her for a moment, seeming to consider something. He even lifts his hands to sign something in response, but before he can, Hiruma speaks up again. 

“He said he’s fine, Anezaki. Don’t you have committee duties or some shit?” 

It suddenly clicks in Mamori’s brain that Hiruma had understood what Sena said. Hiruma Youichi knew sign language. What the fuck? Adding salt to her already festering wound, Sena takes a step back, letting Mamori’s hands fall to her side, and is met with a gentle ruffle of his hair from Kurita. It feels like a punch to the chest when he smiles at the large boy in a way Mamori hasn’t seen in months. 

“Don’t think this means you’re off the hook. I’ll be watching and if you do anything to Sena, you will regret it.” Mamori sends Hiruma a final glare, promising pain, before backing out of the door. He looks completely unbothered by her threat, but Mamori doesn’t mind. She knows exactly what she’ll do if he messes up and Hiruma will regret hurting her baby brother.

 

The moment Anezaki is out of the room, Youichi can’t help but laugh. Small? Yes. Weak? Not at all. Kobayakawa is one of the strongest fuckers Youichi has ever met. He gets pushed down over and over and still gets up again. It's fucking crazy and it makes Youichi feel something. Pride, maybe, that he has such a strong teammate. Yeah, that's it. 

“Sorry about Mamori-neechan, she can be a bit overprotective sometimes.” Sena signs, face toward the ground. It’s annoying. Kobayakawa hasn’t avoided eye contact in weeks. Youichi wants to growl. All that progress gone because of fucking Anezaki . He reaches out his leg and kicks Sena’s legs to get his attention.

“I don’t have weak fuckers on my team.” He signs, the least fucking mopey words he could come up with, before standing and sauntering out of the club room. 

He can practically feel Kobayakawa perk up behind him and before the door can even close, Youichi hears the sound of him rummaging through his locker for his gear. 

Practice goes as it usually does. The only exception is the way Kobayakawa seems even more determined than before. As if he wants to prove to himself that he isn’t weak. As if he has to prove that the things fucking Anezaki said about him weren’t true. Youichi pointedly ignores the concerned glances Kurita sends his way. 

By the time they’re all headed home, Kobayakawa can barely stand, having run through his legs. He and Youichi are the only ones left in the club room and Kobayakawa looks dead on his feet. 

“Chibi?” He calls, glancing over at the boy. There’s no response. Kobayakawa hasn’t put in his hearing aids yet. He hasn’t even put on a shirt yet, his bare back exposed to Youichi’s eyes. Eyes that take in every single inch of skin they can before forcing himself to look away and take a deep breath. He reaches over to gently slap Kobayakawa’s arm, if only because any more force than that would send the kid to the ground. Really, a light breeze could probably knock him over at that point. 

Kobayakawa looks up, eyes wide in surprise before softening when he finds that it was just Youichi who had touched him. Instead of signing any kind of response, he just lets out a strange mix between a mumble and a hum that Youichi can practically feel vibrate through his body.

“Hurry up, I’m walking you home, chibi.” Youichi signs, reaching down to grab his school bag. He is not letting his running back pass out in some alleyway or walk into traffic. Those legs are going to carry the Devil Bats to the Christmas Bowl, so they have to be in prime condition. 

“What? No, you don’t have to. I’m fine.” He shows this by tripping over his own feet and falling on his ass trying to put on a shirt. Youichi can’t help the scoff that leaves his mouth. 

“Yeah, right. I’ll be waiting outside.” 

The chill of the night air is nice on Youichi’s warm skin. The days have been getting warmer since school began, but there’s still a bite to the air once the sun goes down. Hopefully it’ll help to keep Kobayakawa awake for the walk back to his house.

Youichi hears the door open behind him and looks back to see Kobayakawa turning off the light and fishing a key out of his pocket to lock the door. Where he got it, Youichi has no clue. Probably Kurita. He is usually the first one there after school, anyway. It had been strange when he had been late earlier in the day. 

He has a pink scarf wrapped around his neck hiding the bottom half of his face. It looks hand-knit. It’s not cute at all. Not whatsoever. 

“Come on, chibi.” Hiruma signs, half turned around already and heading toward the front gate of the school. 

Apparently it was a good idea to walk Kobayakawa home because he had almost run into at least four light poles and tried to walk into traffic twice. Every step he took seemed painful and when the pair came upon a vending machine, Youichi stopped to buy a drink. If it gave Kobayakawa a chance to sit down on the bench nearby, it was simply a coincidence. 

Youichi sat down on the other end of the small bench to sip at his drink. He was almost finished when he felt a soft weight on his shoulder. Youichi looked down to see Kobayakawa slumped over, asleep, on Youichi. On instinct, he froze. Youichi wasn’t the kind of person you fell asleep near, much less on. He was all sharp edges and bony joints and hard stares. There was no way Kobayakawa was comfortable. The boy seemed determined to prove Youichi wrong as he nuzzled (nuzzled!) even further into Youichi’s jacket. 

Sighing, Youichi pushed Kobayakawa until he was leaning back against the bench and stood up. Hesitating only for a moment, he leaned down and pulled the shorter boy onto his back. It took some shifting, but Kobayakawa seemed to instinctively grab onto Youichi, even in his sleep, which made it somewhat easier. 

(He ignored the way his back caught on fire, sparks running down his spine and tingles running across his ribs. He ignored the warmth in the pit of his stomach and the instinctual way he tightened his grip on Kobayakawa’s thighs.)

Really, Kobayakawa was lucky that Youichi knew where everyone on his team lived (where most people at Deimon High School lived, but he had his teammates’ memorized). He groaned before knocking on the door. 

The short woman who responded was obviously Kobayakawa’s mother. Even if Youichi hadn’t done a deep dive into Kobayakawa’s family life, anyone would know that Kobayakawa Mihae was his mom. They had the same deep brown eyes that held a spark of determination (even if Mihae’s was less bright, but only a bit). 

“Your son fell asleep after practice. He was out cold, so I brought him back.” There was no need to be rude with these people. Really, if he didn’t want to have to blackmail them into letting Kobayakawa play, he should be somewhat polite to them. 

“Oh, what a sweet boy. Thank you so much.” The words grit at Youichi’s ears. He was not a sweet boy. He was making sure his teammate didn’t walk into traffic and break his legs. “Shu, come here!”

From deeper inside the home came Kobayakawa Shuma, who shared his son’s uncontrollable hair and long, sloped nose. He had the same ruffled look that Kobayakawa did when he ran straight from class to practice.

“Oh, hello.” He greeted, staring at the sight in front of him. 

“This nice boy brought Sena home when he fell asleep after practice.” Kobayakawa’s mother explained, gesturing for her husband to take the boy from Youichi’s back. 

“Practice?” The man asked once he had a solid hold on his son, looking only slightly less confused.

“American Football, remember? Sena has been talking about it for the past few weeks,” Kobayakawa’s mother explained, and, really, Youichi should know their names. “You must get out from behind that desk of yours sometimes.”

“Only for you two,” He responded, dropping a kiss on his wife’s cheek. It was sickeningly sweet and Youichi wanted nothing more than to disappear. 

“Thank you again, ah…?” 

“Hiruma.” He answered easily, hands deep in his pockets. 

“Well, thank you for bringing Sena back, Hiruma-kun.” 

Youichi gave a curt nod before turning around and walking away. He could see the light from the doorway disappear as it was closed and Youichi couldn’t help but wonder why he felt so warm despite the cool air outside.

Notes:

hmm…I wonder? Sena paying back the favor of falling asleep on your teammate.

Also, I know I mentioned earlier that Sena didn’t tell his parents about being on the Football team, but we’ll talk more about that in the next chapter so stick around! (god, i sound like a disney commercial)

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Chapter 8

Notes:

TW for implied homophobia (like, blink and you miss it)

Guys, so I like to back stock my chapters (I always have a set amount that are unposted until I finish another chapter) and I just finished a new chapter, so I'm posting this one, but I almost posted the one I just finished and let me tell you, it would make absolutely no fucking sense if you read it now. Complete fucking gibberish. There's relationships and characters that haven't been introduced yet. It would have been a shit show and it would have spoiled so fucking much. Anyway, here's the chapter you actually get. Hope you enjoy!

Sena woke up to the sun peeking through his curtains and warm blankets over his shoulders. The last thing he remembered was stopping at a vending machine because Hiruma insisted he needed tea. 

He couldn’t help the flush that ran up his neck and cheeks as he imagined how he got all the way back home after that. He had to have been carried home from the vending machine. Sena hoped it was Youichi who did it. The older boy always seemed averse to touch, but the few times when he initiated it or grudgingly accepted it from others, there was something so soft about it. How every one of Hiruma’s hard edges seemed to dull just the tiniest bit. Still sharp enough to cut, but only if you didn’t handle them with care. 

Sena was broken from his musing as he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning toward it, he saw his mother opening the door. 

“Oh, you’re awake.” She signed, walking up to the bed and sitting down on the edge near Sena’s knees. “You were out like a light last night. A nice boy on your team had to carry you home. Make sure you thank him today at school.”

Even knowing that she was referring to Hiruma, Sena still found it humorous to see him described as a nice boy. He knew it was true enough, but Hiruma would deny it until the end of time. 

“I will.” Sena replied, sitting up in bed.

She looked at him for another moment before pulling him into a tight hug. Sena’s parents had always been tactile. It was how they showed their love. Mamori had been no different throughout Sena’s childhood, never afraid to fix his tie or tighten his scarf. They were some of the few people Sena trusted with his touch. He had a feeling that his list was growing, slowly but surely. Mihae pulled away and stared at Sena with her hands on his shoulders before pulling them away to begin signing again.

“I’m glad you found people who accept you.” One of her hands came up to brush Sena’s hair out of his face. “And I’m glad you trusted me and your father to trust you to be responsible.”

Of course, Sena wanted to say, of course I trust you. But he couldn’t. Instead, he leaned into the hand that was now cradling his face and smiled up at his mother. She simply smiled back and gave him a single pat on the knee before standing up and leaving Sena’s room so he could get dressed for school. 

Just like every other morning, Mamori met Sena at his door, going over her daily checklist for him before they headed toward Deimon. Today, however, she seemed to be hesitating about something. Sena knew what it was, but he didn’t really want to talk about it either. Not with how stubborn he knew Mamori could be. His luck ran out at the train crossing while they waited for the arms to lift so they could cross. 

“You can be honest to me, Sena.” She signed, eyes scrunched and lips pursed. Sena knew she was worried (and that she had a pretty good reason to be) but he didn’t want or need her worry. Not now. “If Hiruma is forcing you into anything—”

Sena grabbed Mamori’s hands to stop her, making sure to look her in the eye before letting go, silently telling her to let him talk. 

“Hiruma-san isn’t doing anything to me. I like being part of the team. I’ve made lots of friends and I’m having lots of fun. Please, Mamori-neechan, don’t try to stop me.”

She seemed shocked at his words, frozen as he turned back to the train still passing by in front of them. He could feel the vibrations in his bones. Sena focused on keeping his eyes forward, refusing to give in and look at Mamori, to show any sign of weakness she may misinterpret. Finally, as the train finished passing and the arms slowly lifted, Sena felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Mamori staring at her shoes, hands already moving. 

“I’m sorry, Sena. I just want to make sure you’re safe like I always have.”

And Sena couldn’t help but smile at that. For her to (almost) admit that she was wrong meant more to Sena than Mamori could ever know.

“I know.” He signed with a smile before grabbing Mamori’s now still hands and pulling her across the tracks and toward the front gate of the school.

 

Reaching his classroom, Sena set his bag down at his desk before heading to the back of the room where three familiar boys lounged at their desks. Really, Sena was surprised they were actually in class already. The bell wouldn’t ring for another thirty minutes. 

He always liked the back of the room. The sun was warmer and he could lean back to stretch without bothering someone behind him. He could see everyone in the room. No one could sneak up on him. He could see both doors and every desk, but from the back of the room he had absolutely no hope of reading the teacher’s lips during class.

In middle school, Sena had always sat in the back. It was more difficult for the bullies to catch him off guard and the teachers always signed anyway, so he could usually understand the lectures. That wasn’t an option, now. The thing was, though, Sena trusted the three boys behind him to keep an eye on his back. He trusted them to watch over him, even in the classroom. Even if he didn’t need it. 

The lunch bell rang and Sena got up from his seat, gathering the bento his mother had made for him that morning and waving goodbye to the sankyoudai before heading up to the roof. Usually, students weren’t allowed up there, but when you were with Hiruma Youichi, no one really tried to stop you. 

“You’re early,” Hiruma signed, lazily blowing a bubble with his gum. Sena could smell the sugar-free apple scent from across the roof. 

“Shouldn’t you still be in class?” He signed back with one hand rather than responding, setting down his bento and dropping onto the roof. 

“Eh, math is fucking boring.”

Sena let himself laugh at that. Hiruma had expressed his opinion on school before and no matter how much Sena pointed out that he used a lot of those skills for football, Hiruma’s answer was always the same. 

Yeah, that’s football. It’s different.

It was sweet that Hiruma had something he enjoyed that much, even if Sena would never say it out loud. 

Opening his bento, Sena saw a small baggie inside labeled for Hiruma-kun in his mother’s handwriting. Immediately, Sena blushed, not noticing Hiruma’s moving hands. He only hesitated for a moment before shoving the bag into Hiruma’s lap, stopping his signs. 

“What the fuck is this, chibi?”

“It’s from my mom,” Sena took a breath, trying to slow down the speed at which his heart was beating. He let out a breathy chuckle on the exhale before continuing. “I know you don’t really like sweets, but, uh, thank you for bringing me home last night, Hiruma-san.”

Hiruma picked up the bag, using one hand to sign while he pulled on the shiny ribbon wrapped around the package with his other. 

“Just makin’ sure you didn’t walk your fuckin’ ass into traffic.”

The bag opened and four cookies fell out onto the notebook situated in Hiruma’s lap. It had haphazard notes and sketches of new plays in it and it reminded Sena of the reason he had joined Hiruma for lunch in the first place. 

For the past few weeks, Sena had been practicing not only the physical and technical portions of football, but also the mental parts. At first, Hiruma had been confused as to why Sena had asked him for tutoring. Sena had explained that if he was going to be a real teammate, he needed to know the game better. That meant strategies and gameplay and scouting other teams. 

So, as Hiruma bit down on one of his cookies, he drilled Sena on every single detail of his favorite sport. Hiruma was a good teacher. Sure, he used his favorite rifle to threaten you when you got an answer wrong and the smell of chocolate chip cookies mixed with remnants of apple was distracting to say the least, but Sena always left their meetings more knowledgeable than he had gone into them. 

He returned from his lunchtime meeting earlier than usual, face pleasantly warm despite the lingering winter chill outside.

“Oi, Sena!” Juumonji signed, fingers forming jerky words as he spoke. “Where have you been?”

Sena pointed to the hearing aids situated in his ears before signing his reply. “Just going over football stuff with Hiruma-san.”

The sankyoudai weren’t the most fluent in sign language, but they could at least understand most of the simpler signs. It was nice that they were making the effort. 

“Yeah, because doin’ shit with Hiruma Youichi makes ya blush like a fuckin’ virgin.” Kuroki replied, lips curled into a smirk and a single brow raised. It made Sena’s face go even hotter than before. He was not blushing, he just was warm because of all the stairs. No matter that Hiruma had been putting him through intense stamina practice. 

He shook his head, holding out his hands as if he could stop the words. 

“Yer even more red than before, chibi. C’mon, tell us the truth.” Toganou spoke this time, closing the newest edition of Jump that he had been reading. “We’ll only tease you a little bit.”

“I am telling you the truth.” Sena insisted. His face felt like it was on fire and he just wanted this conversation to be over.

“Is it a guy?” Kuroki asked. His voice was softer than before as he glanced around them. Most people gave the delinquents a wide berth, so they didn’t really have to worry about people overhearing, but the thought was nice. 

“Yes, Hiruma-san.” Sena sighed, thankful that they finally understood. 

“You have a crush on Hiruma-san?” Juumonji’s voice would have been shrill if not for the forced whisper, eyes wide enough that it seemed like they would fall right out of his head. 

“What? No! It’s just him that I was with just now.”

But the sankyoudai weren’t paying attention. They were whispering among themselves, quiet enough that Sena’s hearing aids couldn’t quite pick up on what, exactly, they were saying. Soon enough, all three boys turned back toward Sena, nervous looks on their faces. It was Juumonji who spoke up again.

“Sena, you know that, uh, damn I’m not good at this.” He took a breath before reaching forward to grab Sena’s shoulders. Sena found he didn’t mind the touch as much as he thought he would. “Sena, you can do better than that bastard.”

Before the school year began, Sena experienced his first tackle. The breath had been completely knocked out of him and as he stared at the sky, he thought of how blue it was and absolutely nothing else. His brain felt like jello in his skull and Sena had thought that would be the most shocked, most disoriented, he would ever be in his life. 

Apparently he had been wrong.

It took Sena approximately thirty seconds for Juumonji’s words to settle in his brain and then another thirty seconds to formulate a reply. In the meantime, he stood, frozen and silent. 

“No!” He insisted once again, face still burning. “I’m not—” 

Okay, so maybe the thirty seconds spent coming up with a reply, had not, in fact, been enough time. 

“It’s cool if you are, but Hiruma? Really?”

“Hiruma is actually nice if you get to know him.” Sena signed, forgetting momentarily that he was supposed to be letting his friends know that he didn’t have a crush on their captain. 

The three boys gave him the same unimpressed look. Sena shrank in on himself. He had never been more glad when he heard the bell ring and rushed back to his desk, firmly staring forward at the blank board in front of him. 

A few years ago, when Riku had still gone to school with him and Mamori, the boy had bragged about having a girlfriend. It was one of those elementary crushes that you thought were the end of the world when they didn’t work out. Sena had asked Riku how he knew he liked the girl.

“I just keep thinkin’ about her and my heart gets really loud and I wanna spend time with her.”

Sena breathed in a completely normal amount, not thinking whatsoever about how warm his face was after every one of their lunch meetings or how fast his heart beat when they touched or how when their lunches or practices were canceled, Sena always felt more disappointment than he probably should. They all had one thing in common and he had devil horns and fangs.

Sena was probably fucked.

Notes:

The Sankyoudai: We don't give a shit if yer gay, but HIM? Really? Why?

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!

Chapter 9

“We need four more players before tomorrow at ten.” Youichi announced, stepping into the club room. 

“Ha?”

“Haa?”

“Haaa?”

Yoichi didn’t bother holding back his cackle at the sankyoudai’s ridiculous reaction. It was nice to have teammates. 

“Why such a specific time frame?” Kurita asked, biting down on one of the many sweets he had brought to the club room that day. Youichi still had no idea how he could eat such sweet food and not want to throw up.

“That’s when the first game of the spring tournament is and we need eleven players to compete.” He stated, once again cackling at the looks on his teammates’ faces. They didn’t need to worry about some stupid game until they were playing it. Especially not against the fucking Koigahama Cupids. 

“By the way, where’s Sena?” Monta asked, finally looking around the room.

“He had a doctor’s appointment.” Kurita supplied, shoulders slumped slightly. He was always disappointed when his teammates couldn’t make it to practice, even if he knew they were coming back the next day. 

“Which means you fuckers gotta pick up the chibi’s slack. Each one of you better come back with a recruit each or you die.” Youichi called out over the sound of his machine gun firing into the air. The sharp grin on his face grew wider as they all quickly filed out of the club room. He missed the look shared by the sankyoudai as they left together.

“Hiruma, most people are already in clubs by now,” Kurita’s soft voice came from behind Youichi. “How are we supposed to find people to join the team?”

“We do what the Devil Bats have always done; we steal ‘em.”

Kurita’s answering smile was much too soft for a Devil Bat, but Youichi couldn’t find himself wanting it any other way. He just wished that they could have their other brother next to them as well. 

“Well then we can’t slack either, can we?”

“Not a chance in hell.”

It only took five minutes for the two of them to find a recruit. Kurita, being the too-nice idiot that he was, had offered to help another club carry some (read: most) of their equipment to their club shed. Sometimes even Youichi was impressed with his brother’s strength. No matter how many times he saw it, the easy force Kurita managed to exude was impressive. Not that he would ever admit it to the boy.

“Apprentice!” A small but forceful voice came from down the hall. It reminded Youichi of Kobayakawa’s voice in the way it wobbled around the edges and seemed to scratch at the speaker’s throat. A voice that wasn’t used too often. His eyes followed the voice to its source, finding a small, round boy at the end of the hallway. The boy opened his voice to speak again. “Shishou!”

“I think we just got ourselves a new lineman.” Youichi chuckled as he elbowed Kurita and shoved the large boy forward. 

“W-what?”

“Little fatass wants to be your apprentice.” The grin on Youichi’s face grew sharp as he gave Kurita one final shove, forcing him in front of the shorter boy. “You just completed your line.”

Kurita looked between their new teammate and Youichi a few times before breaking into tears. Youichi clicked his tongue but couldn’t help the way his smirk grew into a smile. Not gentle or soft by any means, but genuine. 

 

Sena didn’t really enjoy hospitals very much. He had too much experience waking up in them after being beat up by bullies and even more experience with doctors poking and prodding him because of his hearing. He wasn’t unique by any means, but his parents were always worried about him and forced Sena to get regular checkups. He just appreciated that they at least trusted him to get to the hospital by himself now.

“Welcome back, Kobayakawa-kun.” A dark voice whispered as he sat down in the waiting room. Sena was glad he wore his hearing aids, even if his parents made sure he charged and brought them to every appointment.

“Hello, Oka-san. It’s nice to see you again.” 

The head nurse had always somewhat unnerved Sena, but after years of seeing her, he knew that she really meant no harm and wanted the best for her patients. The stories were actually pretty interesting when you ignored the gaunt look on her face and the way the flashlight she always carried cast dark shadows that danced across her face. 

“In for another checkup?” When Sena nodded, she glanced down at the clipboard in her hands. “The doctor won’t be in for a while. He got a backlog of appointments so he’s a bit behind. I apologize for the inconvenience.”

Sena just shook his head at her apology to let her know it was fine before she walked away to check on other patients. He decided to roam the hallways of the hospital, keeping to the quieter areas to stay out of the nurses’ way. After a few minutes, he came across a familiar room. 

“Sena-kun, how are you?” the older man laying on the bed asked as he saw Sena in the doorway. 

“I’m alright. How about you, Takekura-san? Feeling any better yet?” 

“You know me. I’ll be out of here in a snap.”

It was the same thing Takekura had said every single time Sena visited him, since the very first time. It had been a year prior and Sena had been to the hospital for the first time without his parents. He had absolutely no idea where to go and he was too nervous to try to ask any of the nurses he didn’t know for help. In the end, he found what he thought was an empty room to just take a breather. It had, in fact, not been empty. But Takekura was a very kind man, despite his loud words and violent actions, and had helped Sena find his way back to the waiting room. 

“Will Gen-san be visiting again today?”

“Not if I can help it. That boy needs to spend more time enjoying his youth than taking care of an old geezer like me and working his ass off.” Takekura shook his fist as he spoke and didn’t even try to keep the grimace off his face. 

“Well too bad, old man. You’re stuck with me.” Gen’s familiar voice came from the doorway where Sena had been standing not too long ago. He must have come straight from work as he was still in his work clothes. Gen glanced down to lock eyes with Sena and smiled before ruffling his hair. “Hey kid, what’s up?”

Gen had learned sign language when he realized Sena didn’t speak. He and Takekura both knew how to understand Sena’s signs, but Takekura wasn’t quite as proficient at the actual act of signing. 

“I joined the football team at school!” Sena signed, straightening when he remembered he hadn’t visited either Takekura or Gen since before he took the entrance exam for Deimon. “I’m the running back and we almost have a whole team now.”

“Oh yeah?” Takekura grinned, clapping a hand on Sena’s shoulder and laughing. “Gen’s told you about his time in middle school, right?”

Sena nodded, remembering all the times he had visited Takekura and the old man had been asleep, Gen sitting silently at his side. 

“What school did you pick?” Gen asked, ignoring his father. Last time they had spoken, Sena had told them about his hopes to go to a high school that wasn’t affiliated with his middle school and Gen had fully supported him. Especially after he learned about the bullying Sena was experiencing. 

“Deimon.”

Gen went silent for a moment, as if he couldn’t believe what Sena had just signed. 

“Oi, that’s where Gen went before he decided to drop out and waste his life away.” Takekura said, a strange mix of grimace and smile on his face. 

Sena suddenly remembered one day when he had spoken to Gen. The older boy had told him about his friends he used to play football with, Youichi and Ryou-kun. But it hadn’t been until that very second that Sena made the connection. 

“The Youichi you described as an ‘annoying little brother’ is Hiruma-san?”

Sure, describing Kurita as a ‘good kid with the most determination you’ve ever seen’ tracked, but describing Hiruma as anything other than ‘devilish’ felt almost wrong. 

Gen took a deep breath, letting out the longest sigh Sena had ever seen him give before signing again. 

“Yeah. He’s a little shit.” He hesitated for a moment before beginning again, his hands moving slowly. “You said you almost have a whole team? You sure Youichi isn’t just blackmailing them?”

“ Yes, ” Sena dropped his hands, bringing one up to tap his chin to think for a moment. “ Well, maybe the sankyoudai, but I think they’re starting to really enjoy playing. I convinced Monta to join from the baseball club. We just need a few more players and we’ll have a whole team. ”

Gen smiled at that, the curves of his face softening into a look that was almost fond. He had told Sena before that he missed playing football, even though he knew he couldn’t come back. While Sena didn’t understand exactly what it was like to have that kind of weight on your shoulders, he knew why Gen felt like he needed to sacrifice himself for his father’s company. Even if Sena did agree with Takekura.

“Good for you guys. I’m sure you’ll do great in the tournaments this year.”

“Well, Hiruma-san says we still need another running back, a tight end, and another lineman. Apparently we don’t need a kicker because we can just score twice as many touchdowns as the other team, but I think it’d probably help.” Sena signed, thinking back to his lunchtime lessons with Hiruma. The image of the sankyoudai telling him he liked Hiruma flashed in his mind and Sena physically shook his head as if that would rid it of the thought. “Oh, our first game is tomorrow against the Cupids. You should come watch. Hiruma-san said I might not play because he doesn’t wanna show all his cards yet, but you should come anyway.”

Gen didn’t have a chance to respond before a voice cut into their conversation.

“Sena-kun, the doctor is ready for you.” 

Sena turned to see Oka standing in the doorway, having found Sena in Takakura’s room enough times to know that he would probably be there if he wasn’t in the waiting room. 

“I’ll see you later, Takekura-san. Bye, Gen-san.” Sena quickly headed for the doorway, giving both men a wave as he left.

Notes:

Did I plan for Sena to know Musashi? No. Do I actually kind of love the idea? Yeah.

Also, It felt really weird to call Musashi ‘Gen’ in this chapter, but it had to be done.

It is most likely that Musashi is the oldest of the three (with Youichi being the youngest and Kurita being in the middle) due to the age cutoff being April 1 in Japan. Musashi’s birthday is April 2, so even though schools sometimes make exceptions for close calls like that, statistically, boys get held back more than girls do in these situations because it gives them more time to “mature” (which is stupid, but okay). Therefore, Musashi would be almost a full year older than Youichi (Feb 7) and about three months older than Kurita (Jul 7).

Memes for this chapter! Come yell at me on tumblr!