Disclaimer: I do not own Eyeshield 21 or it's characters.

Note: Please read and review because I would really like to know what you think! Especially constructive criticism because I won't be able to improve if no one is willing to point it out to me. Your time and thoughts would be most appreciated. Thank you and please enjoy!

Dedication: I'm still working on the next chapter but in honour of Sena's birthday, I wanted to take the 13th chapter (12th DOWN: TO CONQUER THE FIELD) of the main fic of Eyeshield 21 fanfic; Survivor and make it a separate fic as a tribute to Sena. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KOBAYAKAWA SENA!

You can also find me in AO3, Tumblr, and Twitter. Just search for Mayonaka no Sasayaki and one way or another, you're gonna find a picture of a white wolf which is me XD

Also, if you want to support me on Ko-fi: I2I3D8UJ (after typing Ko-fi's website) or just search for Mayonaka no Sasayaki

Language note: In Japanese, sometimes when people address others it can be gender neutral like 'aitsu' or 'koitsu' which can both mean him/her. Those who don't know that Sena is Eyeshield 21 would of course use he/him while those who do know will use she/her. That's why if you see the term of address not switching to him/he for those in the know it's because they're using the more neutral address instead of 'kare wa' (he/him) or 'kanojo wa' (she/her).

THE DEFENCE

Sena exhales a smooth breath. The sun hasn't risen fully, the soft purple air in front of her mouth turning to fog each time she exhales. Gripping her ankle, she stretches the front of her thigh, switching legs twice before bending down to touch her toes. Rising, she takes a breath and smiles.

"Aerv'usael, Hiruma-san."

Familiar cackles fill the air as Hiruma pushes himself away from the shadows of a nearby tree. "Aerv'usael. You've gotten better at picking up my scent it seems."

"When the winds are in my favour, yeah." Sena stretches an arm across her chest. "You look like you have something planned for our entrance in the match."

Hiruma shrugs, smirking impishly. "The Oda idiots had too many limos."

"That…seems a bit at odds to us Bats, though?"

"Eh, it's temporary. We'll have something more suitable when we have a full team."

Sena switches arms so to avoid hitting Hiruma as he settles beside her to start with his own stretches. "Why do I have the feeling you'd choose a monster truck for us, given the chance?"

"Well, you're not wrong." Hiruma stretches his wrist. "But it's still not practical. You've ever seen a hauler truck?"

"I don't think so..."

"It's a truck that usually hauls race cars."

Sena gapes at her friend. "That's huge! How is that more practical?"

"Mobile locker rooms and a headquarter to brainstorm game plans."

"…That really does sounds cool."

"Obviously."

"Designs?"

"In the works."

"May I…?"

Hiruma snorts, giving her a deadpanned stare. "You're my partner, chibi. You don't have to ask permission all the damn time."

"Oh." Sena stares at her feet. "Sorry, I'm just...not used to it? I've always followed whatever Mamori-neechan told to do and well, I've been a gofer for years so…"

A hand tips her chin up, bringing her gaze back to a thoughtful looking Hiruma, a glint of regret in his eyes. "You're allowed to do what you want, chibi. You always had."

Sena's mouth twitches into a smile at what almost sounds like an apology. "Even when I wasn't given a choice?"

"Even then," Hiruma chuckles as lets go, hands on his hips. "Besides, you forced us all to give you a fucking choice didn't you?"

Sena giggles. "And you wonder why I believe that you're kind?"

"That is still the biggest bullshit I've ever heard," Hiruma grumbles in disgust, gagging for emphasis. "Told you not to sleep talk when you're awake, chibi."

"Oh!" Sena brightens. "A tsundere Hiruma-san has been spotted!"

"Brat," Hiruma growls, smirking as he squishes her face.

Sena sticks her tongue out. "Jerk."

"Am I now?" Hiruma rumbles and Sena realises that they've gotten closer that there's barely any space between them.

Breath stilling, she's abruptly reminded of what happened last Sunday with Koigahama; of the words she said and still not understanding why she said it at all. Biting her lip, Sena peeks up at Hiruma from under her bangs and to her surprise, the action causes the hand holding her face to freeze then, loosens it's hold to cradle her cheek instead. Gulping, she locks eyes with Hiruma, their faces closer than Sena thought and their gaze hold for the space of a breath before Sena brings up a shaking hand to rest on top of Hiruma's.

When they first met, Hiruma usually makes Sena nervous for unpleasant reasons but recently…it's more awkward and maybe even a little thrilling than anything she's ever experienced. Honestly, she's terrified at what it means because Sena has never had a good track record when it comes to having friends and being allowed to keep them. There's always been a time limit before people leave her and Sena is afraid that if she digs too deeply into whatever it is between herself and Hiruma, then she'll lose the Bats, lose Hiruma far too quickly.

"RAAAAAAWWWRRR!"

Hiruma sighs as he lets go. "It's too early for this shit."

Sena tries to ignore the sudden lack of warmth when Hiruma steps back before she turns to watch in amusement as Komusubi and the Sankyōdai race past them and tumbling to the ground a few feet away from the clubhouse. After a moment, Kurita bounds up to them with Monta in tow as he chews sleepily on a banana.

"Good morning!" Kurita chirps.

Sena smiles. "Good morning, Kurita-san, Monta."

Hiruma makes his way to Kurita's side with a deadpanned stare. "Fucking idiot linemen and their early bird nonsense. What the hell."

"Max…" Monta mumbles as he trails off with a snore.

Sena breathes a quiet laugh, watching her team with a fond eye. It's gonna be a long day but strangely, it's not as daunting Sena expected it to be, not when she's with the Devil Bats.

When they finish their pre-game preparations, they meet up with the volunteers by the school's entrance, watching in awe along side them as two long black limos roll up by the gate.

"There are flames on them." Sena blinks then sighs. "Of course there are."

Hiruma cackles. "You like?"

"That's not the poi—nevermind." Sena tilts her head in thought. "Actually, yeah. The color contrast is good."

"Thought so." Hiruma hums, a fang catching his bottom lip. "Although, there's something about the yellow that keeps pissing me off…"

"Ah…how about adding green to mix in with the red, Hiruma-san?"

"...I knew it. Dammit."

"Next time?"

"Next time."

When they arrive at Seisen Stadium, it is to the sound of the deafening roar of the crowd. Across from them are two big buses housing the powerhouse school that is the Ōjō White Knights.

Kuroki gapes at the amount of people. "This is supposed to be the district tournament, right? Why the hell are there so many people here?"

"Not only that." Togano looks around. "A lot of them are girls."

"Is football popular with girls after all?" Jūmonji asks, giving Sena a questioning look.

Sena sweatdrops. "I'm afraid not."

"It's because of Sakuraba-kun," Kurita answers sheepsihly as he walks up behind them.

"MAX!" Monta gasps, pointing at a TV crew. "Even the TV station is here!"

"So that's why they got this stadium, huh?" Kurita looks down at the grass covered field. "This is the first time we're playing on natural grass."

On Ōjō's side, they hear the coach calling in for the team's last snack. Sena watches as workers, one after another bringing in the food for the hungry players of Ōjō.

"That's a MAX gap between the small and the powerhouse team," Monta mutters, sweatdropping.

"Have no fear!" Kurita exclaims with a grin behind them, dragging a cart full of food. "Chef Kurita is here!"

"S-shishō!" Komusubi hops on over to Kurita, a tarp under his arm.

"Ah, thank you, Komusubi-kun!"

The team circles around the cart, mouths watering.

"This smells amazing!"

"Did you make this, Kurita-senpai?"

"Yup!" Kurita passes over the bentō to the players. "We always have lots of food at the temple. I didn't want it to go to waste!" The center rummages inside the cart and brings out a bentō with a big 'X' taped on the lid. The smell of spices immediately gives away to whom exactly the meal belongs to.

"Here you go, Hiruma!"

Her partner takes the bentō with a cackle and a slight incline of his head before parking himself on a nearby bench. Hiruma then promptly opens his laptop as he eats his meal. Excited, she thanks Kurita for the meal as he passes a bentō to her. For the next hour and a half, they spend the time by eating the delicious food and afterwards, familiarising themselves with the field. Personally, she's especially looking forward to play on natural grass which she only got a taste of once at Notre Dame Stadium.

Plopping herself back to her spot with her friends, Sena glances around and sees both the crowd and TV personnel fawning over Sakuraba, to the teen's discomfort. Sena frowns in sympathy. It must be hard, to have others building an imaginary person up and ignore the real one right in front of them. At least, that's the notion she's getting from the little Sakuraba had been willing to share the last time they jogged together.

"Oh," Kurita breathes, voice small.

Tensing, she and her friends share a glance, worried at what could've caused the hurt they can all hear in their senior's voice; ready to fight and defend the center if needed. As one, they follow Kurita's line of sight and what they find almost have Komusubi launching himself into a war cry. Thankfully, the Sankyōdai manage to hold the angry lineman back even though they themselves don't look all that pleased.

"Shinryūji," Monta growls under his breath, throwing the team a nasty glare.

Sena zeroes in on the player with a head full of dreadlocks, Kongo Agon; the one responsible for hurting Kurita and taking away his dream of attending Shinryūji. Sena sneaks a glance at her partner, finding him typing on his laptop, subtle tension lining his shoulders and eyes that are considerably pale.

"It's okay."

They swivel to see Kurita smiling at them, wobbly but sincere.

"I rather be a Bat than a Naga anyway." Kurita sets his shoulders, giving them a determined look. "I will never regret being here. Especially not when I'm with all of you."

After a long moment, Hiruma is the first to react; kicking Kurita with a pleased smirk before the linemen follow not a moment too soon, jostling Kurita with happy grins. They then all clamour around Kurita, content to let their actions speak for them. It seem to work if the happy tears in Kurita's eyes are anything to go by.

"Listen up, bastards!" Hiruma slams his rifle to the ground as he stands. "Today's game has a different feel from the previous one. We're not just gonna play football." The quarterback's fangs gleam as he sends them a vicious grin, a wild gleam in his eyes. "This is war!"

"Yeah!"

A volunteer nervously raises his hand. "But Shin is gonna play, right? Will we be alright?"

Hiruma scoffs. "Relax. Eyeshield 21 will have the ball most of the time so that's where Shin's gonna be."

The volunteers breathe a sigh of relief.

"So if anyone was to get broken bones, it'd be Eyeshield then. That's a relief."

Sena throws an unimpressed stare at the back of the helper's head, who backtracks when even Hiruma raises a derisive brow.

"I-I mean! We'll do our best not to drag Eyeshield-san down!" The buzz cut helper flails as he turns to the rest of the volunteers. "Right?"

"Yeah! I mean, we could even retaliate and get revenge for the broken bones from last year's scrimmage!" Number 45 turns to give Ishimaru a nervous smile. "Wouldn't you like to do that?"

Ishimaru nods. "That's true! We did make it to the second round. If we run away, it'd be too humiliating."

"If it's Eyeshield 21, I somehow feel like things will turn out alright."

"That's right! He is from Notre Dame, after all!"

Monta gives her sympathetic look. "Hiruma-senpai is making you a scapegoat."

"It's better that way." Sena smiles with a shrug, eyeing Shin with a contemplative frown. "Besides Yamato-kun, Shin-san is the only one in high school that has above average speed. If Shin-san focuses on me, it will hopefully give the rest of us a fighting chance to score points."

"I MAX hope so."

An announcer's voice booms over the stadium. "The game will begin shortly! Everyone please clear the field!"

Sena blinks. "That's my cue."

After notifying her team of the pre-game trial, Sena makes her way into the stadium's gym, quietly greeting the three officials waiting for her inside.

The second trial has a curious effect of acting as both a test and a pre-game warm up. Sena eases her arms down and touches her toes. Rolling upright, she gets into position and when she hears the telltale beep, she shoots out.

The muscles of her legs twitch and flex pleasantly before starting to relax as her stride clicks into place. For the moment, her pace is comfortable, limbs smoothly slicing through the air as she dashes to and fro between the points. It's when the intervals get shorter that the hidden challenge of the second trial is revealed. Maintaing her speed while trying to reach her destination before the sound of the beep has proven to be quite daunting as the minutes roll by, especially since the test requires her to run continuously for 7 minutes there and back between the lines, keeping to the increasing speed prescribed by the audio signals.

The speed is controlled by means of an audio recording emitting sounds at regular intervals. One of the key points is for her to pace herself so as to be at one end of the 40 yard track or the other when she hears a sound. At first, the speed is low but it increases slowly and steadily as time goes on. The aim in the trial of course, is to follow the set rhythm in it's allotted time of 7 minutes with a minimum of 2100 meters in distance.

When the final beep sounds out, Sena slows down to a halt, gasping and panting as sweat beads down her face before a towel is placed under her nose. Swiping away her bangs, Sena looks up to see the representative from the Association, a kind middle aged man named Maehara smiling at her. Accepting the towel, Sena bows in thanks as she presses the cloth to her mouth.

"Well done, Kobayakawa-san."

"Thank you, Maehara-san."

Leighton; a woman representing for the NFL, claps a hand to Sena's shoulder. "All the best out there, Kobayakawa."

"Don't let your guard down out there, little lady," the Notre Dame representative; Hooper warns as the man scowls. "Heard it's one of the best teams in the region."

Sena lets out a breathless chuckle. "Thank you. I'll do my best." Sena bows. "And as always, I'll be in your care."

After excusing herself, she trots back to the field, slowing down until she lingers at the edge. Eyeing Ōjō's players, Sena frowns in confusion when she sees that Shin is still seated by the bench, calm and stoic as ever if a bit sombre.

An arm rests on top of her head. "Killed it, huh."

"Thankfully." Sena glances up at Hiruma. "The intensity had increased a bit."

"To be expected. Didja pace yourself like I told you?"

"I did. Haven't got a complete hang of it yet, though."

"You will."

Warmth blooms in her chest at the conviction in Hiruma's voice. "…Thank you."

"Hn." Hiruma shifts closer, voice taking on that sharp strategist edge. "Fucking chibi."

Sena leans back slightly against Hiruma's chest. "Hm?"

"Seems like Shin is sitting out of the game." Hiruma huffs out a careful breath. "For now."

Ah, so that's why. "Alright…end of the first or second quarter?"

Hiruma hums a low dark melody, mind no doubt thinking of several scenarios until finally, he shifts away. "Second. I want the fucking brats to have more match experience. Come in early if we're lagging behind." A green bubble pops with a snap before the captain points at the highest point on the bleachers. "Until then, keep an eye on them, Co."

"Co?"

"The English prefix that means joint or mutual. We're partners so it fits." Hiruma shrugs. "Plus, its sounds like a short form of your name. Easier to address you on the field than Eyeshield 21."

"Why not chibi like always?"

"To raise the intimidation factor." Hiruma's smirk turns maniacal. "People have been calling you the Devil Hero since that match against Koigahama after you wasted them so badly; especially when you sacked their shitty quarterback with light-speed and stole a touchdown."

"That…was a bit excessive of me." Sena slumps. "His comments about not having Musashi-san around was getting out of hand and I just wanted him to be quiet already."

Hiruma rolls his eyes. "Of course you did it for someone else."

"It's not all that bad when insults are directed at me but it hurts when it's against the people I care about," she defends before biting her lip. "But what do you mean by raising the intimidation factor?"

"Can you imagine the reaction our opponents will have once they now they're gonna go up against someone I openly acknowledge as my equal?"

In her minds eye, she envisions the pandemonium not unlike the ones she sees daily at school whenever Hiruma's name is breathed within the vicinity. Sena sighs, shaking her head fondly. "Demon."

"Thank you!" Hiruma grins. "And it's Devil, fucking chibi. You should know that by now."

Sena laughs. "Like you can talk! How many time have I told you that wasn't a compliment?"

"Me thinks thou doth protest too much."

It's not fair how good Hiruma is in imitating accents. "Really, Hiruma-san? Shakespeare?"

"Fucker was a sadistic bastard in the western classics." Hiruma tilts his head. "So, you in?"

"If we're aiming for intimidation as equals then that means familiarity, right?" Sena folds her arms, smiling. "Then lets kill 'em dead, Cap."

Hiruma grins. "Ya-ha!"

When it's time for them to huddle around together, the offence is mostly silent—the energy charged under their skin keeping them at bay. Not too far from them, they hear Ōjō build up towards their battle cry. The Bats grin, hands clutching their knees as they take a deep breath, the roar of the two teams bursting out and echoes around the stadium.

"GLORY FOR THE KINGDOM!"

"LET'S KILL 'EM, YA-HA!"

After separating herself from the team, Sena takes the camcorder in hand and makes her way to the stands.

"Sena!"

Blinking in surprise, she turns and spies her exasperated looking parents first before her eyes shift to the one sitting beside her mother, seeing a waving Mamori along with her two closest friends; Suetomo Ako and Watanabe Sara.

Sena smiles at her parents then, walks towards the three older girls, confused. "Mamori-neechan." Sena bows slightly to Mamori's friends. "Suetomo-san, Watanabe-san."

"Hello, Sena-chan!" The bubbly Suetomo greets, hair tied in its usual pigtails as her glasses glint slightly in the sunlight.

Watanabe bows back, long dark hair curtaining her face. "It's good to see you, Sena-chan."

"You too," Sena replies, smiling at the three before her voice takes on a dry note. "Checking up on me again, Mamori-neechan?"

Mamori nods, eyes determined. "Of course! I have to protect Sena after all."

Suetomo and Watanabe sigh, shaking their heads.

"Mamori…"

"We know you mean well but seriously, stop babying her Mamori."

Mamori pouts as she scolds her friends. "Sena is helpless and weak, you know that. Not to mentioned that boys can turn into wolves at any moment and Hiruma-kun is the worst one of them all!"

"Here we go again."

Before the three friends can squabble, her father interrupts, giving her a knowing smile.

"Scouting?"

"Yeah," Sena confirms, raising the camcorder with a small smile. "Ōjō are hailed as the best defence in all of Kantō after all. It can't be like how things were against Koigahama last week."

Her mother leans over with a cheeky grin. "All the best, Sena."

"Thanks, Kaa-san."

Quickly excusing herself before Mamori can say another complaint, Sena bounds up the bleachers, standing near a Deimon student with a balding forehead. Sena points to the empty beside him.

"May I?"

"Hm?" The boy starts in surprise before he gives her a polite smile. Strangely, he seems familiar for some reason. "Of course, please."

"Thank you." Making herself comfortable, she watches with pride as her team takes position then, turns on the camcorder. "April 17th, 2005: Deimon vs Ōjō. It is now noon and the start of the first quarter. Deimon is on the offence."

The whistle blows and it's the kickoff. Sena sees Monta twisting mid-jump as he catches Hiruma's throw, landing on the ground before he takes off towards the end zone. Monta makes it past 20 yards before a cornerback tackles the wide receiver, knocking them both out of bounds.

"Way to go, Sakuraba-kun!" The reporter from the TV crew cheers as she jumps up and down.

A man in front of her snorts. "Sakuraba is on the bench. Honestly, isn't a reporter suppose to know what she's covering? This ain't an idol signing, dammit."

Sena chuckles dryly at that, watching as Monta shakes a fist at Ōjō's cornerback. Spinning the camera around, Sena leans forward in her seat, holding her breath as the players take their places on the field. Sena zooms in, making sure to keep as much of the field in sight as possible, but still close enough to see the action. Unexpectedly, Hiruma turns his head at her direction and cracks two of his knuckles then, rotates his wrist.

Two routes down. Improvise.

Alright then. The chances of a successful run is on the right side of the line and if anything happens, there are two possible routes for both herself and Monta to take so they won't get tackle too soon.

Sena taps the side of the camcorder and sticks out a finger in return to signal a third route to the sides. Even under the helmet, Sena can see her partner's signature grin at the increased chances. Sena smiles, lying in wait as she watches the Devil Bats desperately tries to find equal footing against the White Knights.

The clock ticks.

The trick play is an improvised version of his old one that Kobayakawa used in the Rule 21.

They started the drive deep in their own territory, and they've chipped away to the 60 yard line. They now have 4 minutes until the end of the quarter to score a touchdown. What a good number to bring an upset. Especially when the White Knights expect nothing from them and are underestimating them.

Yōichi tells the bastards about their next play.

Everyone stares. One of the helpers pales while his teammates trade nervous glances but eventually nod. A moment later, they line up for the play. It's the kind of insanity that Yōichi thrives in. It's madness, and when he glances up to where Kobayakawa is, he sees the gears turning in those garnet eyes before it brightens in recognition.

Keh! Clever girl.

The offensive line crouches in a row in front of Yōichi. The referee places the ball between the two teams and blows his whistle, and the clock begins to tick. Yōichi breathes in and glances to the right, and receives a thumbs up from Monta. Glances to the left, towards the sideline. From his place at the line of scrimmage, a volunteer named Atsumi hops up and down on the balls of his feet. Yōichi gives the signal, and Atsumi goes into motion.

"Wait!" Yōichi shouts and stands up from his crouch. "What the hell am I doing, this isn't going to work!" Yōichi waves his hands about in a helpless gesture, then abandons his position, striding towards the sideline. "We should have a time out!" Atsumi passes him at a jog while Yōichi tries to call for another huddle.

The White Knights defence relaxes, glancing around at each other in confusion. The linebackers shrug, and the cornerbacks look to their coach for guidance.

That is when Kurita snaps the ball.

Without hesitation, Yōichi turns on his heels and shoots downfield, blowing past a bewildered Ōjō defender—then three more—and sees the end zone yawn before him. The stadium is muffled because fuck that noise, he needs to concentrate his hearing on picking any potential tackles as his cleats pound against the turf.

Going up against his partner on a regular bases has given him an advantage that he didn't have before; in that slowly but surely, his body is working to catch up with his mind. Even though his speed hasn't broken the 5 second wall yet and that sometimes, his body still lags behind his mind, he's gone against someone that uses light-speed as a weapon so his eyes are able to trace and predict the snail-like movements of his opponents then acts before they can move to stop him.

A hell of a way to make up for any lags.

Yōichi looks up, squinting into the sunlight. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Monta and Ishimaru, his fellow receivers; and over his shoulder, he sees Atsumi passes the football. It cuts through the air, spiralling towards them in a decent curve. Monta catches the ball first and screeches downfield for 15 yards before the defence catches up to stop him. The teen tightens his hold on the ball before he turns his back towards the defence and with the training he had, manages to short toss the ball back to him with minimum trouble. Yōichi catches and hauls it in to his chest.

Dodging the defence with the skills he cultivated over the months, Yōichi kills the last 25 yards and crosses the end zone with a loud cackle, spiking the ball for good measure.

"Touchdown!"

When he looks up, the dumbstruck faces of the crowd fill his vision before he's swarmed by his teammates while the volunteers looks on in awe. Yōichi then zeroes in on Kobayakawa's smiling face amongst the crowd, eyes fierce and bright and fixed on Yōichi.

Yōichi throws up the horn sign. "Ya-ha!"

The crowd from Deimon's side cheers; loud and deafening, almost drowning out the stunned voice of the announcer as he excitedly shouts out to the whole stadium.

"What an upset, folks! For the first time since the Shinryūji Nagas, the Devil Bats are now one of the two teams to ever score a touchdown against the White Knights! I repeat!" The announcer shouts over the din of the crowd. "The first points have been scored by the Deimon Devil Bats!"

"Dammit!" yells out Ōjō's head coach; Shōji Gunpei as he slams a clipboard to the ground. "What an embarrassment! And against Deimon!"

Yōichi grins at the upset, cackling gleefully as he calls the team over. "Alright, ya bastards, gather around! We're gonna go for a try-for-point!"

His teammates nod. "Aye, Captain!"

When he sees some of the helpers looking nervously around each other, Yōichi feels a tick on his brow before taking a breath. He can't waste their time in getting annoyed by ignorant amateurs so he instead nudges Kurita towards them to explain. His friend nods, beaming as he happily explains to the others. Now to concentrate on the kick.

Ugh, bad enough Musashi handed them assignments, but the stupid geezer just had to talk his ear off about kicking technique and making sure he was at least decent enough to score 45% of the time instead of the usual 35%. Stupid older brother.

"Ah, fuck it. Let's get this over with."

In the end, he uses the remaining time of the quarter to hold off the defence as he readies the kick. The ball sails wildly, spiralling with no rhyme nor reason before it barely hits the goal post, giving them a 1 point gain. Well damn.

Ignoring the cheering crowd, he checks the score of 7-0 before calling for a huddle to prepare the brats for switching goals as they enter the second quarter and into defence. As he's about to line up the next play, he hisses with a flinch as the stadium erupts with deafening screams of fangirls as they fawn and foam at the mouth the moment they see that Sakuraba is now playing offence.

"Fucking hell."

Kurita gives him a sympathetic glance, passing Yōichi's customised helmet on the bench to him. "I think it's best to avoid taking it off for the rest of the game, Hiru."

"Fangirls have fucking crazy screams," Yōichi grumbles, taking the helmet with a nod. "It's actually in a damn league of its own."

Kurita chuckles. "Is that why you rarely have your hair down?"

"Che, like having my ears bleed is an alternative."

As he's adjusting his helmet, Yōichi sees Ōtawara; the White Knights' idiotic captain and center, marching towards them from the corner of his eye. "Kurita!"

"Hm?"

His brother blinks in confusion as his fellow center snatches a down marker from a nearby crew member and bends it like a damn accordion before dropping it to the ground as Ōtawara laughs proudly. Not bad.

Kurita frets as he picks up the marker, looking it over before resetting it back into it's original state; somewhat. There are times that Yōichi forgets how stupidly strong centers are.

Walking over to the dumbfounded crew member, Kurita apologetically extends the marker. "Sorry."

"I-it's alright."

Ōtawara pauses before he lets out a loud, booming laugh before walking back to his team.

Kurita blinks confused. "Hiru…what just happened?"

Resisting the urge to facepalm, Yōichi sighs as he locks the helmet strap in place. "He was challenging you. Try to pay attention, fatty."

"Oh." Kurita, strangely looks guilty. Of course he is. "Oops."

Chuckling fondly, Yōichi gives a sharp whistle. "Get your asses over here, ya bastards!"

As the team huddle close, Yōichi turns to look at Kobayakawa who regretfully shakes her head as she cracks only one knuckle. Damn. Not many options when it comes to their defence then. Fine, their line isn't as shitty like it was back in January anyway, so they'll just have to increase the percentage. Which means...

"Uh-oh…"

"That's Hiruma-senpai's MAX insane face isn't it?"

"Hiruma…"

"This," he snickers, "is gonna be insanely perfect."

In the end, the kick-off has them facing off against the Knights with a distance of 60 yards until touchdown. Even worse is that fucking Takami Ichirō is today's quarterback.

"What the…" Takami mutters.

Yōichi grins as the commentator speaks, incredulous. "Suddenly a goal-line defence?!"

"It makes sense," Takami murmurs. "The defence blocks the run while Kurita prevents the pass before the ball is thrown. That's your plan, Hiruma?"

Ōtawara makes a face. "Whaaaat?"

Yōichi just shrugs, giving nothing away.

Takami frowns, eyes determined behind his glasses. "I won't allow it!"

Ōtawara huffs. "Never!"

Glancing to his left, he inclines his head at Monta who nods. Yōichi crouches, smirking at the cautious way Ōjō are eyeing them. Looks like some of their advantage of being underestimated have waned. No matter. They're sure as hell are gonna gain as many points they can to pull ahead before Shin steps in. Like hell he's gonna let his partner go against the linebacker without an advantage.

Time to cause another upset.

Monkey style.

Hiruma is MAX crazy. Then again, everyone and their pets knew that right from the start but still. Oh well, the whole team is a MAX crazy bunch anyway so it all works out.

Monta eyes Sakuraba with a twinge of jealousy as the idol is fawned over by his adoring fangirls. As a player though, he frowns intensely at the fact of how short he is compared to the Ōjō receiver. MAX unfair. But he's around the team long enough to understand that any disadvantage they have, they turn them into an advantage instead. That, or drag their opponents down onto their level, whichever suits the situation better he supposes.

Monta doesn't know what their chances are but he knows enough that it's important for them to MAX score as much as possible before Shin comes into the game. Not to mentioned the fact that they need to give his best friend some field advantage.

Monta thumbs his nose. "Let's MAX do this!"

"Set! Hut!"

Running downfield, he marks Sakuraba. From the corner of his eye, he sees Kurita have a MAX showdown with the Knights' center, barely knocking him over while his fellow linemen grapple against Kantō's ultimate defence. Not too far from where he is, he sees Hiruma also giving chase, keeping an eye on Ōjō's quarterback as he does so.

Sakuraba catches the ball. Badly. Monta watches as the older boy falls to the ground.

"Pass complete!"

"10 yard pass!"

Monta gapes, dumbfounded. "Mukyaa!"

What the hell was that?! Sakuraba could've gone and run with it and gain more yards! Monta knows he shouldn't want his enemy to get more points than his team but as a fellow receiver, that was such a MAX disappointing catch! Wasn't Sakuraba supposed to be one of the aces in Ōjō?

"Kyaaaaa!"

"Ace Sakuraba-kun~!"

Pursing his lips, he looks at the slumped shoulders of his rival then at his raving fans. After a moment, a lightbulb goes off in his head. Turning, he searches for Sena; one of the few people in their team who knows Sakuraba a bit more personally. Finding her, Monta points a thumb at Sakuraba then at the screaming fangirls. His best friend nods with a weary smile.

Ah…so it's like that. Poor guy.

Even so, he can't show mercy here. They got a MAX game plan to pull off.

"Hut!"

"7 yard pass!"

One after another short passes are thrown towards Sakuraba until the distance is 20 yards from touchdown. It's time.

"We are about to witness the touchdown, folks!" The announcer shouts over the screaming crowd.

We'll pretend to give up on the passes and keep their guard down so when the chance comes, fucking monkey, you'll intercept!

Monta has intercepted passes before. It's never easy and he's still not all that good at it but he knows that his chances are a lot better than he thought, lack of height or no. So he gets into position, eyeing Sakuraba with a critical eye and trusting his teammates to keep Ōjō at bay as he MAX sets forth on his target!

"Hut!"

He's not a fast runner so trying to put pressure on Sakuraba by getting near him isn't gonna work for him. So instead, Monta makes sure he has the ball in his line of sight, like all the countless times he's done before in both baseball and football. Even though Sakuraba beats him in height, he's definitely not gonna let him beat him in jumping!

Monta sees the football as it cuts through the air, spiralling in a MAX curve. Monta doesn't even have to adjust his trajectory. Ōjō has a really good and experienced quarterback like Hiruma said so he knows that pass is perfect. Monta takes a breath, stretches out his arms and jumps.

"Catch MAX!"

Dimly, he hears the fangirls screaming insults at him but even more than that, he hears Ōjō's quarterback shouting.

"Go back! It's an interception! Go back!"

It's disappointing but he can't get far with his speed so when he passes 20 yards, he can hear Ōjō shaking off his teammates and stampeding towards him.

"Raimon-kun!"

Head snapping over his shoulder, he sees Ishimaru running behind him. Monta nods, turning back to give a manageable short toss to the track and field player. Any more than that will just be a MAX bad pass from him.

Catching it, Ishimaru dashes forward in a MAX sprint. Though his senior is slower than his best friend, his speed is enough to cause a panic for the Knights.

"To the side!" Ōjō's coach roars to his players. "Make him go off the sideline!"

Kuroki; who is the fastest out of the Sankyōdai manages to catch the Ōjō player charging towards Ishimaru, giving their senior an extra 5 yards before he's pushed off bounds.

"Out!"

On Deimon's sideline, he hears the others groan in dismay.

"Sooo close!"

"It was almost a touchdown too!"

Panting, he swipes the sweat from his chin with a grin then, pumps his fist. "Yeah!"

"M-monta!"

He turns to find Komusubi grinning wide at him. Laughing, they body slam their chests and raises their fists to the air. "Chibiz!"

The White Knights are silent, glaring at them with MAX intensity. Scary.

"Amazing!" The announcer says, excited. "The Devil Bats are 12 yards from getting the bonus points!"

Hiruma places his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side. The captain's eyes (which thankfully are a bit more easier to look at after months of exposure) are sweeping across the field before glancing up at the bleachers. Hiruma cracks his knuckles and grins, looking satisfied.

Confused, he follows to where Hiruma was looking at and finds a similarly grinning Sena. Those two. Monta hides a snicker because how can he not? Personally, he thinks those two have been spending so much time together that they've picked up the same reactions and expression at times. It's MAX funny and cool.

"Hut!"

As he's about to take off downfield, he watches in horrified fascination as Ōjō's center tears away Deimon's line to get to Hiruma and Ishimaru. One by one, they fall and Monta is worried that the center is gonna flatten Ishimaru before the giant stops, confused.

"Huh?"

To the side, Monta hears quiet cackling as Hiruma sneaks away with the ball causing them all to stare at the devious quarterback, dumbfounded. When did he...?

"Don't just stand there! Get him, you fools!"

Spurned on by the shout from Ōjō's coach, the Knights scramble to tackle the Bats' quarterback.

"6 yard gain!"

That means they're only 6 yards from the end zone. They might be able to do this!

Loud cackles fill the air, causing the White Knights; who are MAX silent, to tense even more. Looks like Hiruma is taking advantage of the situation and is having fun in getting into their opponents' heads. Not even the coach is spared.

Monta shares a grin with his friends and sees them shaking their heads in exasperated fondness. Yup, that's their MAX crazy captain alright.

Suddenly, there's a hush around the stadium, even the fangirls, though confused, stay quiet. Uh-oh.

That can only mean one thing.

"Heh," Hiruma mutters while Kurita panics beside him. "He's finally being put in the game huh?"

As one, Deimon turns to see Shin Seijūrō standing up from his seat on the bench, sombre and intense as he makes his way to the edge of the field. The linebacker's presence is vastly different from Sena. While the intensity is the same when Sena gets into the zone, Shin's presence is heavy and suffocating while Sena's is light and fierce. Gulping, he turns to find his best friend standing from her seat, lips pressed in a firm line and eyes tracking her rival's movements with that empathic stare.

It's MAX time.

Togano Shōzō has never been all that smart but even he knows that Shin is no joke. Not with the way the crowds and the official are reacting; staring in awe at what could be passed off as a character from Hokuto no Ken. That's just how intense the linebacker is.

"Here he is, folks!" The announcer yells out gleefully. "The strongest linebacker in all of Japan; Shin Seijūrō!"

The crowd goes wild. There's no other word for it. Cameras flashes as cameramen scramble to get a good shot at Shin. The majority of the crowd makes it known on who they think is gonna win the match now that the true ace of the White Knights is here.

"Keh," Kuroki scoffs. "These assholes think we're gonna lose just like that. Like hell."

"Guess we just gotta shut them up," Jūmonji mutters.

Shōzō looks up at the bleachers, where he sees Sena recording the match. For the first time since they found out about Eyeshield, he can really see why his friend is the Challenger. Sometimes, Sena seriously reminds him of Kuchiki Rukia from Bleach; small yet strong and powerful. And the look on her face right now? It pretty much makes him think his friend is gonna unleash Bankai at Ōjō sometime in the match. Like seriously.

"Can't believe I'm sayin' this but I'm actually enjoyin' myself here. I mean, who woulda thought, right?" Kuroki chuckles ruefully.

Shōzō snorts. "Told ya the team ain't so bad. I mean, it's full of crazies that actually like havin' delinquents around."

"Considering who's leading this team, is that such a surprise?" Jūmonji chuckles, cracking his knuckles. His friend looks at Kurita. "Plan still on, Kurita-senpai?"

Kurita nervously twists his hands before taking a deep breath. The center set his shoulders, gaze determined as he beams at them and never through them. It's the older teen's kindness and strength that had earned their respect, always patient and willing to spend his time with them even outside of football. What surprised them even more is that Kurita has and would never considers them as the trash of society. In fact, the center had been genuinely angry when he found out that others see them as such. Not for the first time, he's grateful they met the Devil Bats.

"Yes. We need to make sure that we understand how Ōjō's defence works now that Shin-kun is joining the game."

"Fugo!" Komusubi folds his arms. "H-hold line! Run and pass, success!"

Jūmonji sighs, scratching his head. "If I'm getting this right, we gotta make sure the line is strong enough to utilise the run plays and passes to its fullest. Especially when Sena is in the game."

"B-break!"

Shōzō blinks. "Say what?"

"Ōjō's line, fugo!"

He slams a fist into his palm. "Oh! Break a hole in Ōjō's line. Gotcha!"

Kuroki ruffles his hair. "I'm still having trouble translating, man."

"T-time," Komusubi reassures then, slams a hand to his chest. "I try too!"

"Yeah yeah, we know." Kuroki smirks. "Same here."

"Fucking linemen."

They straighten, looking towards Hiruma who's grinning sharply at them. Damn, if that's not scarier than Hollow Ichigo. The captain has the effect to make even the scariest characters seem like green horned genins compared to the infamous Devil of Deimon.

"One play," Hiruma states, tilting his head slightly towards where Sena is. "In one play gather everything you need before Eyeshield is brought in, ya bastards."

The five of them nod. "Roger!"

They gotta settle a bit of a commotion first though, when some of the helpers look like they wanna bolt when they realise that Eyeshield isn't gonna be in the game yet; terrified of Shin as they are. Idiots. Like they're gonna reveal their trump card when they still don't know shit about Shin. Besides, it ain't cool to let Sena do all the work. If they're gonna win this, they have to pull their weight too.

As they get into position, Monta trots over to them. "I'm gonna be a bit to the front. Hiruma-senpai wants to see how Shin reacts to receivers."

Shōzō frowns. "What about that Spear Tackle thing? He might aim for ya."

Monta waves away his concern with a grin. "Watcha think Sena and Hiruma-senpai have been communicating about throughout the game? They've been making sure there'll be MAX exit routes for us receivers."

Jūmonji smirks. "Then us linemen got nothing to worry about."

"And if he wants to hit us with that tackle of his, fine. We need to know what we're up against anyway," Kuroki grumbles.

"Fugo!"

"You guys…" Kurita sniffs. "Thank you for being in the team. It really means a lot that you're all here."

Shōzō shrugs. "Yeah well, thanks for accepting us."

Silence settles in the stadium as everyone waits with bated breath. Shōzō sees the grim faces of the White Knights, the air around them has changed and things are probably gonna hurt now.

Bring it.

"Set! Hut!"

Grappling against the Knights is like trying to stop the Akimichi clan's Nikudan which is saying something. Feeling a breeze to his right, he sees Ishimaru dashing downfield and that's when Shōzō sees him; Shin sprinting towards Ishimaru as he dodges the other Bats. Shoving his opponent for a Blue Sky, Shōzō sees Kurita stalling Shin for a moment before the linebacker ducks under and zeroes in on Ishimaru. Since he's the closest, Shōzō manages to reach Ishimaru in time only to have both him and Ishimaru getting tackled by the Spear.

Yep. That hurt.

"1 yard gain!"

Groaning, he looks at Ishimaru. "You okay?"

"Y-yeah. Thanks."

"Thought the pain might not be so bad if he tries to tackle two players instead of one. It's still a bitch though."

Ishimaru chuckles ruefully.

"Player change!"

Starting, he and pretty much everyone else look to the side and yeah— there she is; standing straight back, green eyeshield glinting in the sunlight as she waits for the officials to pass her.

Kobayakawa Sena; Eyeshield 21.

There's an ear-deafening cheer from Deimon's side and Shōzō knows he's not the only one grinning from ear to ear as the running-back takes her first step onto the field. After being trusted in the secret about their classmate, someone they actually consider their friend is the mysterious Eyeshield, he, Jūmonji and Kuroki had made sure to watch the videos that showed Sena's abilities. It was as badass as Shōzō thought and everything the soldiers said, especially when they watched the Rule of 21.

Now, watching as his petite friend fist bumps then, throws the horn sign with Hiruma, Shōzō feels relieved. They can do this. With those two at the helm, Shōzō believes that this crazy team that he and his two best friends chose are invincible.