Title: Flowers Before...
Characters/Pairings: Hiruma x Mamori
The fic: Mamori is more chipper than usual and this annoys a certain QB.
Rating: It's Hiruma. There should be a rating specifically for him. I'd call it 'H', but people might get the wrong idea. (but having said that, I rated this T)
Writer's note: I... hope I didn't make them too OOC. And don't ask me why Sunday. It just... happened.
Disclaimer: EyeShield 21 (c) Riichiro Inagaki & Yusuke Murata.

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Hiruma immediately racked his brain for a list of all the males who he had seen approach her (and subsequently get chased off, fast) this week.

There she is, in her casual Sunday gear, hair pinned behind her ears, handbag on her shoulder, bouquet of flowers cradled in her other arm-

A BOUQUET of FLOWERS?!

Hiruma immediately racked his brain for a list of all the males who he had seen approach her (and subsequently get chased off, fast) this week. What the hell, any of them could have given the flowers to her, the romantic saps. And why the hell was he scowling so much?

"Hiruma-kun?"

He cursed himself for standing so long, distracted, outside the door of the Sun Sun convenience store, watching her, and being caught watching her. She looked very chipper as she fell into casual step beside him, and they walked down the street without him saying so much as a 'so, what the fuck are you doing here?'. He was feeling too disgruntled. He eyed the bouquet of flowers as though he wanted to set them on fire, the pretty, delicate, damn things. He looked away as Mamori caught his stare.

"Aren't they gorgeous? Sara and Ako gave them to me," she said, beaming. She didn't seem to notice the dark look he was shooting the bouquet.

Oh. They were just from her friends. Well, that was much better.

Hiruma stared at her from the corner of his eye. She is usually cheerful, but today, even more so. The fact that she is giving off an air of utmost resilience against teasing and insults made him feel like he was fighting a losing battle.

Hiruma does not like losing.

"Where are you headed, Hiruma-kun?" The usually observant girl didn't seem to notice his bad mood.

"Clubhouse," he said curtly. "The game's in two days and I need to do more planning, unlike some slackers."

"I see... in that case, I'll go with you for a little while."

"Whatever," he replied, as carelessly as he can, which actually isn't very careless, and he thinks the fucking manager can probably hear the lack-of-carelessness in his voice, but he was feeling too pissed off to care, because- tch, they had arrived.

He kicked open the door in his usual rough manner – oddly enough, the fucking manager did not berate him for doing so. Instead, she strolled into the room, humming merrily.

Humming, for crying out loud!

"By the way, if there's anything I need to do, we'll have to deal with it now, otherwise it'll have to wait until tomorrow. I won't be able to do anything else for the team tonight," said Mamori. "I'm having dinner with friends, and then we're going to karaoke afterward."

"Eh? Dinner and karaoke, on a Sunday evening?" said Hiruma. A mocking grin appeared on his face, and he was relieved to find his usual smart-ass self is returning... maybe. "When there's school tomorrow? This isn't like you, Lady Disciplinarian."

Mamori made a face at him as she put down her bag and flowers. "I'm allowed, every now and then," she said cheerfully. "It's not everyday it's my birthday."

Birthday.

His brain froze for a second. Oh.

"That said, Hiruma-kun-" She looked up at him and smiled mischievously, "Where's my present?"

Well, fuck.

What's a guy to do? Feigning annoyance and making sure to give a huge sigh, he leaned forward, grabbed her by the arm, pulled her towards him, and – after allowing himself a brief moment to relish the stunned look on her face - kissed her deeply.

"Happy birthday, fucking manager."