Pesticide

Type: oneshot

Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21.

Pairings: AllxSena [Hiruma, Yamato, Agon, Shin, Marco, Riku, Akaba, Kakei, Juumonji, Sakuraba, Hatsujo, Rui]

Summary: Chasing away the idiots around the pipsqueak, Hiruma mused, was rather like making pesticide: the ones who actually survived were much harder to get rid of. Crack.

It was a general consensus that Kobayakawa Sena was very attractive.

Those messy brown locks, soft and sticking up every which way, like duck fluff, waiting for fingers to run through them—and maybe yank them just so Sena's reaction could be revealed to the world; those large brown doe eyes, glistening with innocence and curiosity and naivete—often watering, which upped the cuteness factor by ten; that slim, delicate build, so slight that one felt as if he could just fold Sena into his arms—and maybe lock him away forever so he wouldn't get tainted by the idiocy of everyone else around him…

And those legs. Dear fucking God those legs. Years of running had conditioned them to be perfectly lean, lean, lean, beautifully shaped, not bulky enough to be a turn-off but not as scrawny as chicken legs either. Men (and women, too) practically drooled when they saw Sena stretching his legs.

Golden Legs: not just in terms of speed—which only served to make them more attractive—but in terms of "what-would-it-be-like-to-have-those-gorgeous-things-wrapped-around-me-while-he-screamed-my—"

Ahem.

THE POINT OF THIS IS:

Kobayakawa Sena was attractive. Really attractive. His most attractive features were his eyes, his hair, his face, his body shape, and his legs, which, now that Hiruma Yoichi thought about it, basically meant everything.

But that was okay, because it only reinforced the fact that Kobayakawa Sena was the most fucking adorable thing on Earth. Although most of the commentary from above was kind of tainted by Hiruma's own slightly twisted tastes, it didn't change the facts.

Facts were facts were facts, and it was an undeniable fact that Sena's legs—and his hair—and his eyes—and his face—and his body—and the rest of him—

Ahem.

THE REAL POINT OF THIS IS:

Sena's attractiveness did not go unnoticed. In fact, although Hiruma was loathe to admit it, he would have been pissed off at all the idiocy in the world if Sena's attractiveness had gone unnoticed.

And it was okay at the beginning, when the admirers were limited to just that: admirers. Fangirls, and, alright, fanboys, who kind of followed Sena around, giggling if he stopped and turned around to look at them; girls (and guys) who stopped and turned around to look at him as he walked down the street; cashiers who blushed and started stuttering when faced with Sena's shyly adorable, "Excuse me, how much is this?"

(Hiruma shot that cashier later anyway. The stuttering increased the amount of time Sena had to spend with the awkward boy by five fucking minutes, meaning that Hiruma got his gum five minutes late. And you were not late with Hiruma's gum. You just weren't. The fact that Sena had to spend an inordinate amount of time with another guy who was checking him out may or may not have also been a contributing factor to Hiruma's wrath.)

Then they started getting bolder.

It all started when one of the louder fangirls walked up to Sena one Valentine's Day and stuffed her chocolate in his hands, declaring her love for him.

Sena had been shocked. Which was unsurprising, because the kid was the fucking densest person Hiruma had ever met. But he had accepted the chocolate gracefully, while explaining as kindly as he could through his shock that he didn't have any interest in a relationship at the moment.

It had been nice of him.

And that was when it all started going downhill.

As soon as his admirers realized that Sena wasn't a harsh person, and wouldn't reject anyone cruelly—in fact would try to accept their affections for him, chocolate and all—they started going all out. In droves.

Mobs, as a matter of fact.

The first few days were the worst; Sena literally couldn't step outside without at least five people jumping out of the bushes to declare their love. Then, after Sena was late to practice four days in a row, Hiruma decided that enough was enough.

It was time for pest control.

So he promptly sent out an announcement that anyone who wasted the brunet's time would have all their secrets revealed to the entire school, through the intercom system. That cut the number of confessions down to a few idiots.

The idiots' secrets were promptly revealed to the entire school. Through the intercom system.

The idiots were eliminated.

Phase One of Pest Control: complete.

Hiruma had sat back and relaxed, then, letting Sena's mutters of "How could you do that"'s and "Why does it even matter to you"'s and "That's too cruel, Hiruma-san"'s wash over him. The crisis was over. Now the fucking pipsqueak could go back to coming to practice on time and improving his running, and there would be no chance of him losing focus because of a lover.

Hiruma should've known it was too good to last.

The next shock came when someone from another school walked over and confessed to Sena.

Hatsujo Kaoru. Some dipshit of a football player who the Deimon team had apparently played against in their first match of the season. Hiruma had all but forgotten him by now; he wasn't even significant enough to earn more than half a page in Hiruma's black book. He was a crappy football player, he had a crappy personality, and he was obsessed with girls.

So what the fuck was he doing confessing to the pipsqueak?

Sena took the confession like he had taken all the previous ones: with blushing grace. "No, thank you, I'm not interested, Hatsujo-san."

"Aw, c'mon, Sena-chan, just one date—" Hatsujo froze at the sound of a gun being cocked.

"Kekeke, when the fucking pipsqueak says he's not interested, he means he's not interested," Hiruma said through his biggest grin, the one that showed off all of his pointy teeth. "So why don't you fuck off, fucking loser?"

Sweating and shaking, Hatsujo "fucked off." And Hiruma was treated to another round of muttered "You don't have to be so mean"'s and "I can take care of this kind of thing myself"'s from Sena. He didn't hear a word of it.

The only thing he was thinking was: if a football player they had played at the beginning of the season was interested in Sena, who else might be?

As it turned out, the answer was: a whole fucking lot of people.

Next came Rui. Habashira Rui, the fucking chameleon wannabe-gangster. He caught Sena alone in an alley (Hiruma just happened to be following him. It was a coincidence, okay? A fucking coincidence!) and proceeded to stumble out an offer for a date.

(Hiruma "che"'ed. Why the hell was this idiot so wimpy? Motorcycle gangster his ass.)

Sena turned him down: "A-ah—I'm sorry, H-Habashira-s-san, but I j-just…don't l-like you th-that way. Heek! Sorry! Please don't hurt me!" And he ran.

That happened with a bunch of other minor players, too, and Hiruma (he wasn't relieved, dammit) decided that there was nothing to worry about.

And then came the big guns.

The first batter was Sakuraba Haruto.

There was a bright spot of pink on the receiver's cheeks that made Hiruma want to puke "Hey, Sena," Who the fuck gave him permission to call the pipsqueak by his first name? "I-I was w-wondering i-if—" He gulped and swallowed. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. "I-If y-you'd w-want t-to—"

"FUCKING PIPSQUEAK!"

Hiruma didn't even know he had shouted until Sena jumped five feet into the air. "H-Hiruma-san?"

"If you're late for practice, I'll set Cerberus on you!"

"I-I'm going, I'm going! Sorry, Sakuraba-san, talk to you later!" And with that, Sena was off, leaving Sakuraba looking very dejected.

Hiruma waited until his favori—best and only runningback was out of sight until he stomped up to Sakuraba, grinning like a madman.

"Kekeke, listen the fuck up, fucking pansy," he said through his grin, bringing out his black book. "If you lay another fucking hand on my fucking running back—if you even think about scoring with that fucking pipsqueak—every single piece of shit I have on you will be sent to your fangirls. Including that shot I got of you in that fucking locker room three weeks ago. Got it?"

Sakuraba's face was the picture of horror. "You wouldn't!"

Hiruma's grin widened. "You wanna fucking try me?" When Sakuraba rapidly shook his head, he pocketed the book and started to walk away.

And then he paused. "Oh, yeah. You can fucking tell that to all of your fucking little forest friends, too. The fucking pipsqueak belongs to Deimon and no one else. Fucking got that, pansy?"

Sena was very, very disturbed when Hiruma showed up to practice whistling. Through his gum.

The rumor that Hiruma Yoichi would destroy anyone who walked within ten feet of Sena or so much as looked at him the wrong way was spread very, very quickly.

Phase Two of Pest Control: Complete.

This time, though, Hiruma didn't let himself relax. Because he had learned the basic rule of pest control: what didn't kill a fucking bug, made it stronger.

And the ones who kept going despite the pesticides were the ones who were going to spawn more, and more, and more. They were the ones that were going to be the fucking hardest to kill. And he already had some suspicions as to who the toughest bugs were going to be.

He was right.

Maruko Reiji: he was supposed to be some sort of playboy who secretly harbored (or rather openly flaunted) feelings for his team manager. Which didn't explain why he not-so-subtly began trying to catch Sena on the weekends, springing requests for dates on the brunet at random moments no matter how many times he was turned down.

No threat from Hiruma—not even when he actually carried out the threat (the Hakushu Dinosaurs would never be able to look at their captain the same way ever again)—could deter him, but Hiruma refused to take this as evidence of the quarterback's good character and more as evidence of his stubbornness. He was like a cockroach that just wouldn't fucking die.

Akaba Hayato: tight end of the Bando Spiders, supposedly intelligent and obsessed with music. Somehow, he became obsessed with Sena instead, showing up to serenade the brunet on the guitar at night or to watch him during training, supposedly to see if the brunet had "amped" his speed.

His musical references were fucking idiotic, and Sena was obviously weirded out by them too, but at least he never outright tried to ask Sena out. Yet Hiruma couldn't decide if it was better or worse to have the red-haired music freak hanging around all the time.

(Definitely fucking worse, he thought with a scowl as he watched the fucking freak pepper Sena with questions about his running style while steadily inching closer and closer and—OH HELL FUCKING NO. The blond raised his rifle with an evil cackle.)

Kakei Shun: the guy had always been obsessed with Eyeshield 21, to the point where the only question was which Eyeshield the fucking giant would go after, East or West. Now, though, the answer was very clearly Sena. He was also smart enough not to admit his feelings out loud.

He simply hovered over Sena like a mother, except mothers—as far as Hiruma knew—didn't shoot their sons deep looks of longing when their sons weren't looking. Fuck. Just thinking about it made Hiruma sick to his stomach.

"Panther" Spencer: the American was texting and emailing Sena constantly. Constantly. As in, on an hourly basis on weekdays and every five minutes on weekends. His Japanese was horrible, which was why he often mangled phrases like "I love you" and they turned into things like "big help"," and which, as far as Hiruma knew, was the only reason why Sena was still oblivious to Panther's feelings.

The brunet was overjoyed that his foreign rival had deemed him "worthy" enough to stay in contact with and replied to all the messages with fervor until Hiruma had Cerberus chew up his cell phone.

(One of Sena's admirers—and when Hiruma found out who, he/she was dead meat—sent him a new one.)

Kongo Agon: the biggest womanizer and bastard Hiruma had ever met. As far as Hiruma knew, the asshole would chase—and catch—anything in a skirt. Apparently, this extended to Sena, too, despite the fact that that Devilbat cheerleader uniform was a one-time thing and meant for Deimon's eyes only, not teams from other schools.

(That didn't stop the photos from circulating faster than Hiruma could catch up with them.)

Agon was also on par with Hiruma in terms of cruelty and inhumanity, which was why he drove Hiruma up the fucking wall normally. When he started making his moves on Sena, then (popping up in the middle of the brunet's runs to try to drag him into a nearby alley, or offering to "massage" his legs, or throwing him over his shoulder for some "joint practice" with the Shinryuuji Nagas) Hiruma was seething mad.

Kaitani Riku: the so-called "big brother." Hiruma scoffed at the hypocrisy. If Riku really thought of Sena as a fucking little brother, Hiruma would eat Cerberus's collar. The Seibu Wild Gunman came to practice every so often to check his childhood friend. The joy on Sena's face and the answering warmth in Riku's whenever they saw each other made Hiruma want to puke.

Even more disgusting were the blushes on Riku's face whenever Sena complimented him admiringly or started chattering away about their time together in elementary school. And worst of all, Hiruma couldn't even kill him, because the white-haired fucker actually had a legitimate reason to visit Sena, and Hiruma had no doubt that if he did anything to Riku Sena would flat out quit the Deimon football team. Forever.

Shin Seijuro: one of the biggest problems on Hiruma's list, he was a fucking robot that thought about nothing but football, training, and nutrition.

At least, that was how it was supposed to go.

Instead, the linebacker's mental focus had shifted to football, training, nutrition, and Sena. If their rivalry had been pure competition before, the match against America had shifted it to an awkward friendship—awkward because Sena wasn't sure how to act around someone he considered an amazing player, and because Shin was a socially retarded moron—and then, at least on Shin's side, into…love. Love. BLECH. The black-haired boy's affections were silent but steadfast, and they fucking pissed Hiruma off.

Yamato Takeru: the other one of the biggest problems on Hiruma's list. Like Shin, he was a robot, but rather than being robotically socially disinclined, he was a perfect robot. As in, perfect in everything. Hiruma couldn't find a single scrap of blackmail on this guy, except for his defeat at Deimon's hands at the Christmas Bowl, and that wouldn't help because it was already public knowledge. The guy had good looks, smarts, a good body, athletic ability, and fangirls.

Fangirls.

Which pissed Hiruma off even more, because—in his opinion—the running back should've just gone after one of the fucking fangirls because that was all that he deserved. He had no right marching in from Kansai and beaming his stupid mouthwash-commercial-worthy smile at Sena, putting his hand on Sena's shoulder, leaning over to—

"W-wasn't that a bit…extreme, Hiruma-san?"

"He'll survive," Hiruma shrugged, blowing the smoke off his rifle.

"B-But…" Sena flailed, looking for words. "Y-you shot him in the arm…"

"I'm paying his fucking medical fees, what's the big fucking deal?"

"YOU CAN'T JUST SHOOT PEOPLE LIKE THAT, HIRUMA-SAN!"…is what I want to say, but if I said that I'd be killed, Sena thought, gulping audibly.

Hiruma simply smirked.

Making pesticide was hard work, but no one had ever called Hiruma a wimp. He'd take care of the fucking bugs around Sena—and then they'd see who came up on top.

Like he told Sakuraba: Sena belonged to Deimon and Deimon alone.

"Oi, Sena, get over here and help me stretch, will you?"

No one noticed the twitch developing in Hiruma's eye as Sena hurried over to Juumonji, completely oblivious to the gentle smile the other boy was giving him. No one noticed Hiruma cocking his rifle, either.

BANG!

"EEEEK!"

"YA-HA!"

"WHAT THE HELL, HIRUMA—"

Scratch that. Sena belonged to Hiruma and Hiruma alone.

It was time to employ in-house pest control.