miikka-xx: as you may know, my ffnet account is now an archive, but I did write an ES21 fic, and I thought it would be nice to share with you guys right here. :) thank you in advance for reading!

Title: Timeline Overhaul
Rating: T+ (15+)
Summary: Post-series. Hiruma's ambitious. Or: how Saikyoudai University became the number one team in the university league and then some. Hiruma/Agon.
Disclaimer: Nope! :)
Warning(s): This story is complete and will be split in three chapters. There is football, swearing, guns, and Hiruma/Agon. Saikyoudai Uni, as you may remember in the last chapter of ES21, was the 'rumoured number one college in the league', and this is the backstory, along with slash! Hooray!

timeline overhaul

'We've voted for what we shall yell before the match. It was a unanimous decision, after all, in the end, we can only use the shout of a champion team.' - Banba, volume 36, page 38

Two weeks before they go to the World Football Juniors, Musashi tells them calmly in front of Deimon High: 'I'm not applying to any colleges.'

Hiruma's mouth is uncharacteristically smoothed into a firm line of disappointment. Kurita's eyes are wide and he's going to cry any time now, Hiruma knows. So, he jabs the end of his SIG Sauer P220 into the fatty's side to stifle him and cackles, 'and what about football, old man?'

Musashi's face crumples into amusement, 'knew you wouldn't let it go. Does Takekura Construction Babels sound alright?'

Kurita wipes at his face with his fists, sniffling quietly. 'so we'll be against each other? Me 'n Hiruma against you?'

Hiruma makes a dismissive sound in the back of his throat, 'no, there will be three teams.' Even Musashi seems surprised.

'Not applying to Enma University?' he asks, and Kurita is staring too. It takes a moment of silence before Kurita is smiling, a bit uncertainly but his eyes are dry and he's standing straighter than before.

'Oh,' he says, pounding a fist against an open palm, 'we'll be like the Three Kingdoms fighting for the center. Wei, Shu, and Wu.'

'Didn't they all lose?' remarks Musashi, but Hiruma intervenes before Kurita's face falls.

'Shut the fuck up and get to the Rice Bowl,' he says and he's grinning, replacing the SIG Sauer with a M4 A1 to shoot a barrage of celebration bullets over their heads.

One week before the World Football Juniors, Mamori apologizes for being late in meeting Hiruma: 'I got distracted by university applications, y'know?' Her hair is a mess and her face flushed from running. Hiruma doesn't reply – continuing to type out the various strategies to fit with certain rosters. Out of habit, he adds a column that says 'percent chance of success' but leaves it blank.

'I'm going to apply to Saikyoudai,' she rambles as she organizes her papers on the table, 'it's a good one for the degree I want. How about you?' Her hands pause, her face looking at him expectantly.

Hiruma pauses, eyes flicking up to meet hers. He shrugs noncommittally. She snorts in exasperation. 'You're going to blackmail your way into Tokyo U, aren't you?'

This time, he grins, all sharp teeth and glittering eyes. 'Of course.'

By which he means he has no fucking clue.

The World Football Juniors comes to a tie, but they volunteer for overtime. It's the American offense. The Japanese have declining stamina. It's a one-time play and it's gonna take brain and skills. Hiruma thrives in these conditions. His chest is tight with possibility as his brain racks through different possibilities.

His eyes land on Shin, who limps his way to the bench, grimacing, and discounts him entirely. That's when he finds Agon in the crowd, dreads splayed over the shoulders as his lip curls in a snarl when talking to the hulking Gaou.

'Oi, fuckin' dreads,' calls Hiruma, catching his attention almost immediately. 'C'mere.' The rest of the team huddled around him shift uneasily. Even now, Agon's towering physique and bloodlust are not something to be ignored, and Hiruma is the only one aside from the Shinryuuji Nagas' coach to use it to his advantage.

'Fuck off,' says Agon, an automatic reflex, but he's standing beside Hiruma, close enough that Hiruma can see the energy shifting in his eyes and the tenseness of his muscles as he's ready to fight once more. The Japanese have declining stamina. Agon, however, Hiruma knows, does not.

Hiruma turns to the rest of the team. 'No breaks. You have all the audio codes shoved in your fuckin' skulls?'

The team nods, and only Agon shifts, restless. He didn't attend any of their team practices and knows nothing, but Agon can read Hiruma like no one else can. That much Hiruma's figured from their near-perfect Criss-Cross.

The time counts down. The American's team huddle is beginning to break. Quickly, Hiruma lays it out for them. 'We're going for the Devil's Ballista, using dreads right over here.' Shin shoots his head up as he rests on the bench, meeting Agon's glance, and nods. Agon lands his gaze back on Hiruma. Hiruma is grinning, outlandishly wide and terrifying – knowing Agon listening intently to the plan and observe his body's movements. The attention is nostalgic and invigorating. He lets it energize him.

'So,' he says, straightening, and the team follows. 'What're we gonna do?'

This time they all join in – even Marco and Kid and Agon, 'KILL THEM!'

One week after the World Football Juniors, Hiruma encounters Agon in a convenience store trying to buy sugarless gum: 'I said go find some, you fuck.'

The cashier looks one careless glance away from bursting into tears and almost sprints to the backroom of the store. Hiruma whistles low as if impressed, 'could be a running back.' Agon half-turns towards him, his snarl ever-present on his face. The wig of his dreadlocks are gone and his skull is covered with dark fuzz that makes him seem younger than eighteen.

'A bit far from your trash of a high school,' he says. Hiruma shrugs lazily, two bottles of pop in his hand and a bag of beef jerky, 'had to come if you're buying my gum for me.'

Agon scowls, his face getting progressively more angry, but Hiruma finds it more amusing than scary. Agon's always known him, though. Even back in middle school, they could read each other more easily than any other and perhaps that was friendship, Hiruma didn't quite know. He didn't quite care either. After the Shinryuuji mess, Hiruma found it hard to care what Agon meant in the grand scheme of things except an annoying prick.

'What do you want?' snaps Agon after a moment, still eyeing him with that mix of wariness, disgust, and ease of familiarity. Something that Hiruma easily reciprocates. The nice thing about Agon is that one always knew their place with him. Always below, never above, and only equal if gifted by the gods with athletic genius.

'Let's talk about the future,' says Hiruma, voice lilting, drawing out the syllables real slow, reading Agon as he reads him. The moment is interrupted when the cashier sprints back to the counter with eight packages of sugarless gum. Without pausing, Hiruma places his beef jerky and pop on to the counter beside Agon. 'It's on him,' he smiles, eyes glinting, teeth sharp and white in the fluorescent light of the store. The cashier seems equally terrified of Hiruma as Agon.

'Fucking prick,' says Agon under his breath but pays anyway.

They're off to a fantastic start.

Hiruma leads them out of the shopping district and on to the suburban areas. The houses are white and stout – two stories high and shoved against each other like packed turf – white splices on green grass and the occasional shrub and tree.

Agon spends three quarters of their walk romancing a girl on his phone. Hiruma drinks deep of his pop and listens with half an ear just in case there is something incriminating. It takes three minutes of sitting on a bench of an empty baseball pitch when Agon finally hangs up and stares at Hiruma.

'You gonna switch sports halfway through?' he snorts, 'I know you fucking suck, but that's a new low, even for shit like you.'

Hiruma props his ankle on his knee and finishes his drink before replying. 'You still want that three million?'

Agon's face smoothes out – curiosity and seriousness melding together. 'You asking me to go to another fuckin' tournament?'

Agon's bag from the convenience store is between them on the bench. Hiruma rifles for a pack of gum and pops one in his mouth, chewing noisily. Just as predicted, Agon's mouth is curling in some parody of silent laughter.

'You want to go at it again. You want to try this World Juniors bullshit next year. You're fucking crazy.' Hiruma cocks an eyebrow as he catches sight of Agon's face – a half-grin and almost something like pride in his face. 'You ambitious fuckin' shit.'

'World Juniors?' sneers Hiruma, 'Aim higher, you short-sighted plebeian.'

'Haa?' drawls Agon, previous expression erased with annoyance, 'where else is a piece of shit like you gonna go?'

Hiruma takes pity on him and explains, short and sweet, all bullshit cut for the prize that he knows Agon craves. 'After hosting us this year, they created a four year World Championship, fuckin' dreads. International shit – stronger team, stronger opponents, world-wide recognition, and money.' His grin turns lethal and confident, 'and it's next year in Italy. The fucking inauguration. All eyes on us.'

He plays Agon easily, knows that Agon is very much aware of how he follows Hiruma, whether it's into dark alleys, train compartments, or a football field. The fact of the matter is not even the Shinryuuji Nagas' coach has as much of a command over Agon as Hiruma does.

'I'm not going to miss this and wait four years,' says Hiruma with lazy assurance in his eyes. 'First university, then Rice Bowl, then the Championship.'

Agon licks his mouth, eyes contemplative and steady. Hiruma feels himself be weighed, taken apart and split in half – pros and cons. He knows pros heavily outweigh 'having to work with trash', because if Agon truly stuck to that philosophy, he would not have played with the Shinryuuji Nagas, with his brother, with Hiruma.

'You're fucking insane,' says Agon, voice low and rough, and Hiruma pulls out a Glock 17 from his waistband, cocking it and placing it right against the man's temple.

He's cackling, anticipating slipping back into his bloodstream, the empty hollow space he ever feared wouldn't be filled after the World Juniors. The World Juniors is just the first pinnacle of the rest of them. There's more for Hiruma, he soon realizes, more to find, climb, and conquer. The fun of building and succeeding and beating the unbeatable odds. The World Championships. The NFL. The fucking Super Bowl. 'Is that a yes or a no?'

Two weeks after the World Football Juniors, an extremely loud and enthusiastic Kurita visits Hiruma's hotel room with a terrified Unsui in tow: 'Hiruma, guess what? We're both going to Enma University!'

Hiruma reassembles his Browning 9mm on his desk as Kurita sits comfortably on his bed and Unsui looks like he's going to shrink into himself as he gingerly takes a seat beside his friend. 'Their football team is absolute shit,' he says, and Kurita frowns.

'Not with us,' he says confidently, 'right, Unsui-kun?' Unsui takes a few trembling breaths and nods, his back straightening. 'See? I'm a lineman, and Unsui-kun is really good at everything – quarterback, cornerback, running back.'

Sliding the safety on, Hiruma observes his handiwork, gaze sliding from the trigger to Kurita's cheery face, confidence and hope radiating off his entire frame.

'So, what're you doing here, fuckin' fatty?' he says, testing him. He eyes Agon's twin brother – he has the same straight nose, the pointed chin, the square jaw, but there is something soft about his eyes and his mouth that makes them easy to differentiate for Hiruma. He finds he prefers Agon better – cruel and crazy and devastatingly invested in Hiruma's existence, much to the man's delight.

Unsui looks over at Kurita with a small smile and Kurita nods. 'We're just here to tell you that Enma University's team is going to the Rice Bowl.'

'Are you now?' drawls Hiruma, lips stretched wide, tasting the challenge. Kurita – used to his maniacal expressions – doesn't mind him, but Unsui cowers, just a little bit. Hiruma latches on to the weakness with precision. 'Doesn't seem like your quarterback, cornerback and running back is confident enough to walk by himself much less play football without his little brother.'

Unsui's eyes go wide and Kurita is getting ready to berate Hiruma for his incessant bullying, but Unsui beats him to it.: 'I don't need my brother.' There's a pause where Unsui takes a deep breath. 'we'll – we'll beat you, a-and we're gonna beat him too – ' His voice trails off in a tremble, but the air between them presses down anyway with the gravity of Unsui's confidence.

'Alright, we'll see about that,' says Hiruma, feeling calm, the creeping of worry for Kurita being squashed by Unsui's presence. Now, if only the old man could get some teammates who could talk back to a devil from hell like Hiruma. Kurita is beaming, knowing approval from his friend, and makes the gestures to leave.

Before they make it to the door, Kurita turns, 'but, Hiruma, what university are you going to?'

'Tokyo U,' replies Hiruma offhandedly, ignoring their choked gasps, and turns on his laptop. What he really means is that he still has no fucking clue.

Hiruma is standing in front of the metal fence of the American military base eight blocks away from his hotel room when Agon finds him, no chick nor bag from the convenience store hanging off his arm. His hair is getting longer – not enough for dreads, but it will get there by the time they start university.

'You getting all contemplative before graduation, you shit?' he mocks as if he doesn't know why Hiruma is watching the practice match between the soldiers.

Hiruma snorts, 'you're the one who found me. You missin' me after three years, fuckin' asshole?' It's a half-hearted comeback as he goes over the list of pros and cons in his head. It doesn't matter if he applies to university late or early – he'll get in whether it's backhanded or legitimate. It's a matter of choosing which one now and graduation looms – a self-imposed deadline.

'Four years, prick. Can't even count anymore? How you gonna get into university?' It's the most roundabout yet obvious lead to the conversation Agon wants to have with him and Hiruma wants to laugh at how they circle each other even over the most inane things.

'Which one are you gonna bless with your god-impulse?' sneers Hiruma in turn. He's curious, and he can't deny it's going to influence his decision. Perhaps Agon's arrogance rubs off him, because he knows, more certainly than anything else, that they tip scales, they toss odds, they're the queens of their respective football chess games.

Instead of answering, Agon makes a derisive noise in the back of his throat as the linemen fall on their backs and the quarterback gets sacked on the red team. 'Pathetic. Quarterback had enough time to pass.'

Hiruma silently agrees. He needed three seconds, and this one had five. He turns away from the match and leans his back against the fence, eyes on Agon. Queens of the match, the demons of the football field, the powerhouse of Kantou. It's not a sudden realization, just something he's always wanted but never had the opportunity. Just this once, before the clusterfuck of four years ago, Hiruma wants to indulge.

'You're gonna be on my team.'

Agon glances at him. 'Fuck off.'

It's as much of an agreement Hiruma is going to get.

Three weeks after the World Football Juniors, the third-years graduate all throughout the country.

There is a shower of celebration bullets from Hiruma's Colt M4 carbine as the principal finishes his ending speech and the people scatter to take pictures and exchange last minute contact information. The first years are there too and they surround Kurita with presents of food and congratulations.

For Hiruma, Sena and Monta get him fake Las Vegas casino chips bought from some rip-off gift shop in the shopping district, but he hardly minds. Both Yukimitsu and Mamori hand him a red and silver striped silk tie, and Musashi and Kurita pool their money to buy him the fanciest football they can find in the city. The rest of the football team are there as well, gift-less but still full of congratulations.

Hiruma reciprocates with various semi-automatics, all his favourite brands with rubber bullets in order to decrease their horror. He's not going to take credit for when Yukimitsu and Mamori go home to giftcards that will cover their future first year textbooks, nor for the brand-new tackling equipment reinforced by steel sitting in Kurita's backyard, or the pile of cash beside a football magazine sitting on Musashi's bed.

Kurita suggests they visit Shinryuuji and Hiruma agrees with another spray of bullets, dragging the rest of them along. They lose Sena, Mamori, and Monta once they pass Oujou, and the Huh Huh brothers disappear to visit Hakushu. Even Musashi ducks out of the journey when he grabs a train transfer to meet the kickers of Bandou.

The journey to Shinryuuji is only for Kurita and himself anyway. He kicks them away with a sneer as usual, but they smile back and wave too enthusiastically for Hiruma's liking. God fucking forbid they actually trust and like him. People who didn't fear him eventually got under his skin, and sometimes he feels like there are too many of them already there – Kurita, Musashi, Mamori, the fucking football team, Agon.

The graduation ceremony seems to have ended once they arrive and the Shinryuuji football team are all gathered, speaking and exchanging gifts. They find Kurita and Hiruma easily as they wade through the crowd of graduates. Agon has short dreads around his face, reminiscent of his middle school days minus the baby face. Unsui is still bald, and he grins widely to wave at Kurita.

Wrapping him up in conversation, Kurita laughs and exchanges congratulations with the team while Agon corners Hiruma to the side of the group. His face is expectant but it's not for gifts or congratulations.

'You get lost on the way to your own grad, piece of shit?' he says, the sharp opening words that Hiruma has come to expect. What he doesn't expect is for Agon to dig into his pocket and pull out a packet of sugarless gum. He tosses it and Hiruma catches it easily. 'Consolation prize for missing it.'

'Didn't know you knew I graduated, fuckin' dreads,' drawls Hiruma, covering his surprise smoothly by popping a piece of gum in his mouth and chewing loudly. 'Gotta stop stalking me.'

Predictably, Agon snarls, making the appropriate motions to punch him in the mouth though he's never, ever gone through with it. Hiruma falls comfortably in the routine, fingering the packet of gum with half a mind. It's been four years. Forgiveness isn't Hiruma's style. Forgetfulness even less.

He opens his mouth to distract the man, but they're interrupted with the appearance of Ikkyu, loud and peppy, talking fast: 'congratulations, Agon-kun! Thank you for making me the team captain, I swear I won't let you down, you were a brilliant captain and I'm going to live up to it, I swear – ah, hello, Hiruma-san, congratulations on you too – '

Hiruma blows a bubble of gum and pops it as Agon's mouth twitches and he grabs the kid in a headlock. 'Shut up and scram, Ikkyu, we're having a conversation.'

Ikkyu freezes and Hiruma snorts. 'Were we? Thought you were gonna smash my face in, fuckin' dreads.'

Nevertheless, Agon lets him down gently, and Ikkyu flees with a bow and fluorescent-bright grin. Agon's eyes trail the kid until he starts congratulating the rest of the football team. Hiruma flicks his gaze back to Agon.

'You want him too,' he says, slow, 'what was that you once said? An ideal team is twenty of you and Ikkyu.' Hiruma won't disagree that Ikkyu is a brilliant addition – if two years delayed, but he wonders if Agon will undermine him as quarterback by forming a team loyal to him. It's a thought better pursued away from here.

He notices that Agon doesn't immediately reply. Instead, he chases the sight of Agon tracing the edges of his teeth with the top of his tongue, eyes still on the rest of the team. Finally: 'pick somewhere good, you fuck. Doesn't fucking matter if they're the best or worst.'

Because we'll rise to the top no matter what.

Hiruma cackles, flips the packet of gum into the air and catches it with a loud snap. 'We're going to have try-outs in two weeks, fuckin' dreads.'

Four weeks after the World Football Juniors, Hiruma announces the university he is attending through an obnoxiously edited video sent to every cell phone number of every football team that has gone against Deimon: 'Saikyoudai University, you fucks. Try outs next Wednesday at noon.'

He finds Agon at a popular café on a Sunday in the shopping district by Shinryuuji with two girls on his arm and his charming smile as he asks them, as subtly as possible, for a threesome.

Hiruma won't deny that he perhaps disrupts the meeting with more flair than required for the girls run screaming out onto the streets as Hiruma props his micro-Uzi submachine gun on his shoulder and smiles down at Agon. 'Did you get my text, fuckin' dreads?'

'You a jealous fuckin' girlfriend, filth?' he snarls back, but his frame is easy and his eyes are laughing. The anticipation is back, sweeping down his spine, as he pictures the plays he can make with Agon beside him, the skill sets he can develop, the goddamn possibilities - the fact that, for once, Hiruma doesn't have to claw his way to the top, raising those around him, and can compete with the best on his own because he is one of them. It's heady and addicting and feels like the prize he's always been chasing for.

He takes a seat across from Agon and slides the micro-Uzi into his bag as he pulls out his laptop. 'We have the pick of the trash, you fuck,' says Hiruma, playing to the man's humour, and Agon curls his lip when he notices.

'This better be the best fuckin' team, prick,' accedes Agon, eyeing him with a steady gaze. Hiruma blows a bubble and lets it pop before noisily chomping the gum back into his mouth.

'Cream of the crop, dreads,' he says and his voice is low and serious, and it's been so long before he's been able to say something so outright and truthful to Agon without a wall of snark between them. Four fucking years. Forgive and forget – that Hiruma can't do. But… take advantage of the situation? Twist it to his ends? Bring together a powerhouse to destroy the university football league with one of the strongest beside him? Here, Hiruma thrives.

Five weeks after the World Football Juniors, the informal try-outs bring together Banba, Yamato and Taka, along with future prospects such as Akaba, Juumonji, and Ikkyu. Various other lessers turn up as well and Hiruma is almost uncertain with what to do when he is presented with more opportunities for a team than he has ever had in the last three years.

He introduces himself as captain without telling Agon, but the man doesn't seem to disagree as he lounges on the bench, talking on the phone as he watches Hiruma hoist a Berretta RX4 over his shoulder and shoot at them through various drills.

Afterwards, Hiruma has a team in less than five hours, his spreadsheet covering all the bases needed for a competent football team plus some extras. Agon dozes on half the bench, legs dragging across the ground as Hiruma seats himself beside the man's head, typing data into his laptop.

The sun is setting by the time Hiruma has found enough blackmail material on the Board of Education for Saikyoudai in order to get extra funding and improved equipment. He also sends a short e-mail to Mamori with an application to be football club manager attached. Best to cover all the competent bases immediately.

He stretches, glancing down at Agon, who is still splayed over the bench, dreadlocks spread over the wood, not quite reaching the shoulders. 'Oi,' says Hiruma, and that's all it takes for Agon's eyes flicker open, his face expressionless and his eyes without any malice. It puts Hiruma off-kilter – the familiarity between them built on cruelty and sneers is lost and has been slipping away in the past weeks.

Maybe he doesn't mind – to have Agon follow him without question once more. It's nostalgic and easy. Agon listens to a select few people – his brother, his coach, and Hiruma, and Hiruma knows how to play it to his advantage.

Lately, he's been wondering if it's the same on Agon's end. If Hiruma plays to Agon's tune, though he doubts Agon even realizes he's different from three years ago. Softer, easier – still batshit insane and violent beyond any right of any teenager, but approachable now. Fucking reasonable all of a sudden. Enough for Hiruma to seek him out and talk to him.

'Fuckin' dreads,' he says without reason; face blank, jaw chewing on the now tasteless gum.

Agon doesn't move, doesn't react in any discernible way. After a moment, he huffs out a breath, eyebrows raised. 'You can't captain for shit, filth.'

'Neither can you,' points out Hiruma, 'so I made you co-captain.'

Agon sits up, stretching his arms, and his shirt rides up enough to see the glimpse of a tattoo that Hiruma knows wasn't there during middle school. He idly wonders when he got it.

'You're really fucking stupid,' says Agon, sitting beside him, closer than the last time they were on a bench. There's no plastic bag of sugarless between them now. Hiruma closes his laptop and puts it back in his bag.

'You gonna undermine my authority or something, prick?' he grins, 'kick me off the team so you can get the glory?'

The sun wavers against the horizon, and Hiruma watches Agon's face, reading in advance, readying himself for that inevitable truth that will tell Hiruma that life is cyclical and Agon will burn him once more, as always, forever.

Instead, Agon is facing the sunset, the sharp profile of his cheek and chin, and his voice is low and careful: 'it'd be fuckin' trash team without the biggest piece of trash.'

With that, he stands and walks away, flicking out his phone and dialing a number and Hiruma hears him romance some nameless, faceless girl he will never know, and he can't help but laugh as Agon disappears around the corner. Laughs himself sick. Until the sun is gone and god, of course, Agon, would be the one to fuck everything up – ruins the rightful equilibrium of cruelty and malice between them.

He counts down on his fingers – five weeks after the World Football Juniors, he is stuck with a team that will dominate the university league and an asshole who basically fucking pledged his shitty, iron-strong loyalty to him.

Notes: Hee, I really do enjoy writing Hiruma, and if you guys have any thoughts/comments/criticisms/complaints, let me know! I'd be very thankful~ :)