A/N: This is an old thing I posted elsewhere, but decide to do so here (just to see my wordcount increase =p)

Disclaimer: Eyeshield 21 and everything it entails do not belong to me.

100 Brooms and Gunfire

Day 1

~ Little Comforts ~

There was something around her – a buzzing noise, insistent and all together disconcerting. There was also something dancing in front of her eyes and interfering with her work – the numbers were moving around – is it 13.54 or 14.35?

Mamori instinctively rubbed her eyes and the numbers ceased moving. The sounds however, swelled and sharpened into distinct voices. She recognized one as Monta, screeching his usual self-motivational 'MAX' chants. The other were echoing roars of 'Kill 'em-Crush 'em-Kill- 'em-YAHA!'

Mamori dropped her pen and she didn't even realize it. The shaft of sunlight coming in from the window behind her warmed her back like a draped jacket (or was there a jacket around her shoulders…?). She reached up and felt the stiff fabric – it was crisp and rough, and somewhere in the corner of her mind Mamori knew this jacket wasn't hers. But there were other things crowding her mind, clamoring for attention. Homework. Discipline Committee reports. Team data. Sena's lunch. A lost umbrella. Lack of sleep.

She may have yawned, but she didn't care. The table was becoming comfortable, she had a nice blanket around her and she was just too tired.

If she had stayed awake long enough, she would have seen the door close quietly, and heard the sound of multiple shots muffled behind them.

She would have heard Hiruma order everyone to practice elsewhere because 'the damn manager needs to work'.

But right before she fell asleep, her mind registered the scent of lemon and gunpowder lingering on the jacket and a half-smile curved on her lips.

She'll thank Hiruma when she wakes up later.