Snippets from a crack!idea-- Vexen and Saix in the world of Eyeshield 21. I pair these two together indiscriminately, I'm afraid. My LJ is proof enough!

Eventually, though whether it was by tacit agreement or simply as something that was inevitable, Vexen and Saix found themselves taking up impromptu residence in the gym's old storage room, where equipment too broken or unfit for use was kept. Throwing a sheet over the piles of torn gym mats helped, but nothing could conceal the unholy stink of several old catcher's mitts, face masks, and jockstraps quietly moldering in the corners of the room, where Vexen had banished them to within the first week of their residence.

First week of a loosely projected six months. Luxord had done something with the time, they knew, some bizarre contract and release, casually snapping the fabric of existence as if it were gum. He'd promised that no matter how long they lingered in Tokyo, only a week would ever pass by the clocks of the Castle that Never Was. Vexen wasn't exactly sure that was all that desirable a notion, but the Superior had enthusiastically agreed, and that was the end of it.

In exchange, they'd had to give a majority their powers up, at least temporarily, and that meant casually 'persuading' civilians to give them decent accomodations was well-nigh impossible.

On the bright side, when Mamori discovered just where they'd been spending their nights on the first week of school, she'd been duly horrified, promising to put them up in better living spaces as soon as she could arrange it. For now, perhaps, wouldn't they mind staying with other members of the team?

The way Vexen's face blanched must have been some sort of hint, because she laughed and hastily explained that no, there was nothing to worry about; Sena and Yukimitsu had offered. They could only afford to room one extra person each, however, so...

The way Vexen grabbed for Saix's hand might have seemed a bit desperate, but the academic couldn't have cared less.

After a moment of watching the two strange boys shift subtly closer together, drawn to one another like opposite poles of a great cosmic magnet, Mamori smiled, ducking her head in a quick nod.

"I'll see about getting you a hotel room until we can find you something more permanent," she said, and if Vexen's fingers didn't quite loosen around Saix's arm, well, at least his shoulders sagged in relief.

"I fail to see why this much padding is necessary," Vexen complained, plucking at the uniform that hung far too loosely on his lanky frame. Saix, behind him, shifted gingerly on the field. The idea of false grass was still a relatively fresh concept; the berserker kept expecting it to suddenly give way underfoot.

The blonde man the rest of the players called Hiruma (who'd been the team's captain last year, they were given to understand, captain and slavedriver; who also wasn't supposed to be helping the football club this year, technically, but special circumstances had resulted in the administration rushing to mete out special permission) merely grinned at them, the sudden sight of sharp teeth enough to make Vexen pause.

"We're perfecting the Devil Tackle today," Hiruma offered, easily twirling a machine gun around his fingers. "So the injury count's likely gonna be pretty fucking high, without that padding. Just don't want any trouble with your school, y'know, with you being exchange students n'all. Where did you say you were from?"

"Never Was High," Vexen muttered. They hadn't been able to come up with a better name on the fly, and it had stuck.

Hiruma's smile grew sharp as knives. "Welcome to the the Deimon Devil Bats."

Vexen would have responded with a more coherent greeting-- that is, if he hadn't suddenly been tackled from behind.