Beating the Odds

By Uniasus

Chapter 1

None of them had heard from Sena for a month, but his flight home had been known before he left and Mamori (and Hiruma too) had written down the date of his return so those who could were waiting at the airport to welcome him home.

They waited long past the time it would have required Sena and his parents to leave the plane and collect their baggage, their glances around the terminal slowly fading from expectant happiness to an oppressing concern. Except for Shin, whose face was always set in that grim line.

"Did he change his mind and decided to stay and play amefuto in the USA?" Yamato asked after they had been waiting for over an hour.

Mamori shook her head. "He would have told something like that."

"Fucking shrimp," Hiruma muttered, the group turned around to look at him. He had given up standing and had decided to crouch to polish a gun. The security guards were eyeing him. "He said he wanted to come back and fight all of us."

Shin nodded. "I remember Sena-kun saying that."

"Yeah well, he's not here." No one said anything to Sakuraba about pointing out the obvious, but Akaba glanced at him over his glass.

"Che," Hiruma stood up and stalked his way over to the airline counter and not-so-subtly dropped his gun on the plastic. A security guard walked over, but the group noticed the paling of the guard and stewardess even if they missed the brandishing of the black notebook. The guard still stood there, most likely for appearances, but woman started typing rapidly on the keys. She said something to Hiruma, who obviously didn't like it for he threw himself over the counter to look at the computer screen himself.

Hiruma's actions had spurned the other into doing something as well, namely calling Sena's phone. He hadn't answered in a month, hadn't answered earlier today, so Mamori didn't understand why having a handful of amefuto players all call now to the same phone was going to make a difference. She called Kobayakawa-san instead, but Sena's mom did pick up either. The couple had left for America for a mini vacation a month before to explore the country before spending time with Sena, but surely they had all planned on flying back on the same flight?

It was the look on Hiruma's face when he headed back towards them that had them all dropping ending their calls. He looked as if he was facing a team who's plays he not only couldn't come up with a counter for, but couldn't identify.

"Hiruma-kun?" Mamori asked.

"They didn't get on the plane."

Everyone frowned. "What do you mean -" Sakuraba began.

"I mean, Sena and his parents didn't get on the plane in the USA. They canceled the flight about a week ago, switched the tickets to an open end date."

"He must have found stronger opponents than us." Shin decided. He turned to his teammate. "We must increase our training."

"Ye-es!" Sakuraba agreed.

Mamori shared a look with Yukimitsu, and she could see hints of a similar thought in the faces Yamato and Musashi. But she didn't ask Hiruma about it, about why if Sena wanted to stay, his parents would too after not making the move earlier, about the Kobayakawa-sans' plans. She didn't want to crush hope of Sena coming back soon. After all, if there was a 1% chance it would happen, it would.

She didn't want to hear proof that chance was zero.

"If we leave now," she ventured, "We can catch the end of the Enma game. It's the first college game for Riku and Monta, isn't it?"

Hiruma gave her a look, as if he knew what she was doing. Never mind that Sena was supposed to have been back earlier enough to play in the second half.

"Yeah," Akaba sang. He was flat.

Another month had past and still no communication from Sena. Many people took it as a sign the running back wasn't returning to Japan, that he had moved on and his family had gone with him. But Monta knew they hadn't moved, the Kobayakawa residence wasn't empty. No moving vans had come. And while the silence from his friend bugged him constantly, he still played the good neighbor and looked after the house when he had time.

But still, there were days he would go without thinking about Sena. Even with Riku on the team as a reminder. Monta always hated himself a little bit after that. And then hated Sena. Why couldn't he call his best friend? Or even send out an e-mail?

As if on cue, his phone rang with his little e-mail specific song. Hopeful, he flipped it open. Right away he noticed the kanji for 'Sena'. Eagerly he moved his thumb over to open it, but pause to read the notification more carefully.

It wasn't from Sena, but Taki (who had decided to forget about amefuto when he was approached by a dance company, but the idiot still kept in touch), and the subject line read Why didn't anyone tell me Sena was injured?

Monta paused, the words 'Sena' and 'injured' bouncing around in his head. He had hadn't heard of any such thing, and something as important as that would have been heard! Taki was probably just making this up, scaring him. His thumb hovered over the 'open' command and suddenly Monta found himself afraid to open the e-mail.

"Monta-kun?"

The received jumped and the sound of Unsui calling his name, his finger hitting the phone and opening the e-mail. It was just a link.

"Heh-heh, Unsui-san!"

"Is everything alright? You aren't usually so still." the quarterback asked.

"Yeah, just checking my e-mail."

"Well, just make sure you change in time for practice."

Monta nodded, attention back on his phone as he clicked the link. It took him to an article on a American amefuto website. His English wasn't very good, but he thought he could make out 'Notre Dame' in the headline.

"What are you looking at Monta?" Riku asked, coming up behind him.

"And article Taki sent me, but my English isn't very good."

The blonde slipped the phone out of Monta's hand (only cuz the receiver let him), and began reading it aloud. "The Notre Dame football sho…" He trailed off, and Monta fear spiked.

"Riku?"

His teammate looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Maybe I should read this in the club house, so everyone can hear."

Monta snatched his phone back, but the symbols were as unreadable as ever. "Yeah, maybe you should."

Once in the locker room, Riku and Monta jumped on to one of the benches that ran in front of the lockers.

"Listen up max you guys!" Monta shouted. "Taki just sent me an e-mail about Sena. But it's in English so Riku's gonna read it all too us, okay?" He hand his phone back over to the runner.

"Sena's coming home?" Kurita asked from the back of the locker room. On of the other players tapped him in the shoulder. "Sh," and the line backer went silent. The looks on Monta's and Riku's faces were giving the team the idea that it wasn't good news about Sena.

Riku cleared his throat and began to read from the phone screen:

"The Notre Dame Shooting: Two Months Later

"It's been two months since the Notre Dame versus Purdue game where a sniper fired onto the field and injured Notre Dame running back Sena Kobayakawa. Kobayakawa had just passed Purdue's Kant on the field when he was shot three times, once in the knee, once in the lower back, and once in the shoulder. Kobayakawa was rushed to the local hospital, but slipped into a coma. We never found out why he was shot, as the sniper fell off the top stand he was shooting from and fell to his death.

"Kobayakawa was an exchange student from Japan, and upon learning of his injury his parents flew to the states to be by his side. Unwilling to remove their son from the care he was receiving here in the States, the running back has remained in Indiana for the past two months.

"Now it seems the family is finally going home. Earlier this week, Kobayakawa woke from his coma, much to the joy of his family and teammates here at Notre Dame. But it is not all happy endings for this family, Kobayakawa's football career is over. Dr. Davis, who had been in charge of the running back, informed the press that Kobayakawa's lower body had been paralyzed by the second bullet.

"'He'll be lucky to walk,' Davis said, 'and even that is questionable at the moment. The days of Sena being the fastest on the football field is over. It's quite sad, the kid had talent.'

"The Kobayakawas refused to answer any questions, but Dr. Davis did inform us that Kobayakawa is due to start physical therapy in Japan later this month.

"That's, that's all it says." Riku trailed off, the hand with the phone dropping as if the device suddenly weighed a ton. Monta grabbed it before it slipped out of Riku's fingers and proceeded to forward it to every amefuto contact in his phone. The soft sound of clicking keys was the only noise in the locker room.

Not everyone on the Enma team personally knew Sena, of course not, but they all knew of him at least. Knew he had been on the roster, still was in fact, but never the game ones. It was a hard blow.

"I think practice is canceled for today," Unsui said, "Actually, I'm pretty sure it is. I'll see you guys tomorrow." He walked out of the club house shirtless, forgetting the uniform he had been changing out of on the bench.

It was the manager's shout of 'no!' that halted practice. Not that is was a shout really, it was softer than that, but there was really horror behind it that made it carry and forced her drop to her knees.

"Fucking manager! Stop being so weak!" Hiruma called.

Akaba, who was closer to her, shot the blonde a dirty look. Hiruma gave him a devil's look right back and then returned his attention to the Saikyoudai manager. She was rubbing her eyes with the side of her hand. Che, she was crying.

Hiruma marched toward her, and coming closer he could see she was trying not to cry. Her phone was in her hand.

"It's Sena," she said when he was just a meter from the out of bounds line. She made sure her voice carried, wobbly as it was.

"Really? It's about time we heard from the fucking shrimp."

Mamori shook her head. "Monta e-mailed me an American news article. Two months ago, someone shot Sena during a game."

Half the team rushed towards the sidelines to hear better, Hiruma snatched Mamori's phone from her and started reading the article while the manager summarized it for the rest of the team.

"He was in a coma till recently, and the doctors say he'll be lucky to walk."

"Which means he can't run." Akaba said. He turned to Yamato. "That would make you the new Eyeshield 21, would it not?"

The runner shook his head. "It's always something that's been earned on the field. Sena-kun has never been beaten in running, he still carries that title."

"Fuck that," Agon growled. "If a king dies, his title gets passed to the next in line. Which would be me."

"Such a disharmonious statement." Akaba said.

Agon made to lunge at the other player, but Hiruma foresaw the action and set a round of bullets his way. The dreadlocked player glared.

"All you fast guys can figure it out on the field later this season, right now you're not doing anything but blowing hot air." Hiruma handed Mamori back her phone. "See if you can figure out when he'll be back before the end of practice."

She nodded and got to her feet. Everyone was still staring at her. "Shoo!" Mamori made a sweeping motion with her hands. "You've got a game later this week, so get practicing."

Mamori didn't have an answer by the end of practice, but she was on the phone with someone in the club house. Most of the team sent curious, wondering looks her way when the left, but a few stayed behind, lingering. They didn't hide the fact they were waiting for Mamori's answer. Hiruma would look up at her every so often from his laptop, Akaba was moving his fingers to form chords on his guitar – but not playing, Yamato was reading the article himself on his own phone, and Juumonji was eyeing Mamori like a hawk while tossing a football between his hands.

When Mamori sighed they all stopped what they were doing to watch her shut her phone.

"I got through to Sena's mom. They're in an American airport right now, they'll be landing late tomorrow morning."

Juumonji slapped the football against his palm. "We're going to see him right?"

"Oh course fucking scar-face," Hiruma snapped at him. "He owes us for not showing up the last time."

"I'm inviting some others too," Mamori said, looking up from her phone. "If we all meet somewhere, we can leave together."

"Who are you inviting?" Yamato asked.

"Kurita-kun, Monta-kun, Riku-kun, Shin-san, who'll probably bring Sakuraba-san, do you think Musashi would like to come Hiruma-kun?"

"Yeah, don't worry about it though, I already sent him an e-mail."

They met at the train station, all smiles and laughs. It was so good to know Sena was coming home. They talked about the possible adventures he had in America, the possibility of new techniques he developed, the games he won. The fact that such things were now impossible, the fact Sena was injured, was carefully avoided.

But it became impossible to at least not think about while they waited at Narita airport. They all fell silent eventually.

They saw the Kobayakawas first, or rather Mamori saw them. No one else knew what Sena's parents looked like. "Kobayakawa-san!" she called out, waving her arm in the air cheerfully.

The couple both looked at her, harried but still glad to see a friendly face. The matron leaned down, dropping from sight, but then stood straight at began walking towards the large group of amefuto players. It was obvious Sena's dad was pushing something.

It was Sena. They knew he couldn't walk, the article has said as such, but they hadn't really understood what that meant for day to day living. Just that he could no longer play amefuto. But here he was, in a wheelchair, and suddenly Mamori realized he wouldn't even be able to get into bed because his room was on the second story. Where would he sleep, the couch? And how would he get to school? Was he even going to school? He might have taken the Enma exam while abroad, but he hadn't registered for anything. And what if he had classes on the second floor? Saikyoudai had an elevator, did Enma?

It still hurt too much to think of Sena never again running on the field. And if Mamori was wounded by the thought, Sena must be dying from it.

"Oh Sena," she breathed, the first one talk. And Sena, who looked so drawn out with his pale skin, skinny body (what happened to all that muscle he use to have), and tired eyes, still had the power to flash her a smile and look as if he hadn't been flying for sixteen hours and had learned the life he had spent years striving for had crumbled.

"Hey Mamo-neechan. You grew out your hair."

She sniffed once, increased the strength on her squeeze, and then pulled back, eyes dry. She'd cry later. "You too, Sena." She fingered a lock.

"I'm gonna get it cut soon."

"I think it looks good," Juumonji ventured and suddenly every one was in motion.

"Here, let me relieve you of your burden," Shin said to Sena's dad, taking control of the wheelchair and pushing it towards the luggage carousel.

Things seemed to snap into place. Akaba and Yamato went on ahead to scout out which carousel the bags would be coming on, Riku and Monta took possession of Sena's right side, Juumonji looking over their heads, Hiruma took the left besides Mamori, Kurita smiling behind him, while Sakuraba walked next to Shin. Musashi walked behind the entire ensemble, and behind them all walked the quite Kobayakawas, faint smiles on their faces.

"Tell us about the Americans!" Monta chatted. "You beat them all, right?"

Sena laughed. "Not quite. Panther-kun has longer arms then me and tackled me more often than not. But I managed to match speed with him." No one drew attention the tightness that seemed to engulf the running back at the statement, but there was a beat of silence until Hiruma popped his gum bubble.

"Was everyone in America as big as those we versed in the World Cup?" Sakuraba asked, moving on to more neutral territory. Sena tilted his head back to look at the blonde.

"No, but many of the amefuto players were. Most of the students were average, if a bit more solid that those here. I wasn't the shortest one there though. There was an other exchange student, from India, who was a centimeter shorter than me."

Hiruma popped another bubble. "Really? I find it hard to believe there is someone in this world shorter than you shrimp."

Mamori slightly slapped him in the arm and he gave her a dry look. "Sena grew the entire time he was in Deimon, and I'm sure he grew in America too! Didn't you Sena?" she turned to face him.

"Hehe, maybe? I didn't check."

Akaba waved at them from the fourth carousel and the group made their way over, the Kobayakawas speeding up and passing the group in order to identify their luggage. Shin pushed Sena's wheelchair towards an empty row of seats, which were quickly occupied.

"But what about you guys?" Sena looked towards the group members in his year, Juumonji, Riku, and Monta. "What university are you attending?"

"Enma," Riku and Monta said at the same time, but the latter puffed out his chest as he said it.

"Ah, then you get to play with Kurita-san!"

"Now that Riku-kun and Monta-kun are on the team, we're sure to beat Saikyoudai and play Musashi in the Rice Bowl!" Kurita's eyes blazed.

Shin made a voice in the back of his throat. "Oujou will have that honor."

"Hmf, we went last year, and we will again," Mamori declared.

"Kekeke, of course!"

Sena hunched away from Hiruma. Musashi said nothing, just stood there with his arms crossed as if he were over looking a group of small children.

"Well, now that Sena's back we'll…" Monta trailed off, horrified and ashamed by what he was saying.

But Sena just smiled on of those tense smiles, and agreed. "Yes, I was hoping I could be manager for Enma's team and develop plays to stop Hiruma-san."

"No way you could beat me at trick plays, fucking shrimp. But I have to ask, what are your odds?"

"Odds?" Sakuraba asked. Riku just shrugged with the receiver looked at him. Sena looked down at his hands.

"Because if there's even a .1 percent chance, that's enough right?" The brunette smoothed the cloth over his thighs. "That I'll walk? 30. That I'll run? 2. But that I'll run like I could before, that I'll be able to play amefuto? I asked, Hiruma-san, if I had that .1 percent chance. They said no."

The pain on Sena's face was stark, and if it belonged to younger Sena, or if they were alone, Mamori would have thrown her arms around him and cried. But she hadn't been prone to such actions or a desire to protect for over two years now, and she knew it would embarrasses Sena if she didn't amongst all these people who considered him a man on equal grounds. Men who all wore a look of pain to some degree.

Juumonji's hand shot out and ruffled Sena's hair, causing the small male to look up at him. "We've won against low odds before right?"

Sena's mouth twitched. "Yes, that's true." But rarely had been an issue of what they were physically capable of doing; it had always revolved around willpower and the desire to win. So it was okay to pretend that would work this time too.

A/N: It seems like all that time I spent reading this series has gone into writing for it. Seriously. I was up till four am on Tuesday writing this and finished it halfway through Wednesday. I really should have been doing other things though T.T My poor grades. I don't even know what this essay on Tuesday is about! Something about Jews during the Holocaust... *headdesk*

I would love to learn I didn't through my grades away for nothing, so reviews would be very much appreciated. I'll even give you brow~nie!