The leaves crunched under her feet.

Mamori took pleasure in the sound, holding the coat around her.

"You have another stupid look on your face, fucking manager."

Mamori said nothing, ignoring the tall, lanky man beside her. Her smile, if anything, widened.

"Tch." And Hiruma said nothing more. He walked, partly hunched against the cold, his black scarf flapping in the biting wind. But Mamori could tell that he was pleased. Well, satisfied, anyway.

They walked past the darkened stores, the yellow streetlamps their only light in the night. There was hardly anyone in the road, just occasional cars that went past.

"Are you sure your mother won't look for you?"

Mamori looked up at him, "yes. I had already said I was going to be spending a night at a friend's house. And the thing about being a goody-two-shoes is that my mother trusts me."

"Despite omitting certain things like the fact that your friend is a boy." Hiruma cackled. "Maybe, we should have stayed in school grounds. I've never seen a disciplinary officer committing—"

Mamori had slapped a hand over his mouth, pausing in her stride, even as Hiruma continued to cackle. "Hiruma-kun, you really are the devil." Mamorie said, blushing. She took her hand off, "but you should know, I would have done exactly the same thing if I had to do it over again."

Hiruma stopped cackling, his eyes narrowing at her. "Really? What if I had brought a camera?"

Mamori shook her head. "Should I be worried that I'm not surprised by what you're saying?"

"Well, I have a camera in my room. Kekeke."

Mamroi punched his arm.

They finally arrived at the business hotel. Mamori felt her cheeks redden as she walked past the reception desk, but the old man was resolutely looking at the newspaper in front of him. No looking up even as Hiruma and Mamori waited for the elevator. She was tempted to peek at the old man when they got on, but decided she would look foolish doing so.

"I constantly underestimate how much fear you can arouse, Hiruma-kun," she said, reflective.

Hiruma grinned.

When they got off to Hiurma's floor—penthouse, why not, Mamori thought, that suited him—it was a short walk to his suite. Hiruma opened the door.

Mamori gasped. Behind her, the quarterback laughed. There was only the sound Hiruma's gum wrapper as Mamori walked into the sumptuous living room. The windows were from the ceiling to the floor. The city was spread out below them, lights glittering. Mamori looked at the city, her wonder turning to sadness. "Have you lived in hotels all your life, Hiruma-kun?" She asked, unable to completely disguise her voice.

There was no answer. Mamori looked behind her and saw that Hiruma was watching her. He shook his head. "Tch. Typical. I show you something like this, and your first thought is that I must be lonely." He turned away, " I'm going to get a bath going."

Mamori, left standing in the middle of the living room with Hiruma's coat around her shoulders, felt dumbfounded. I show you something like this, and your first thought is that I must be lonely. All the three years that she had known him, from the first time she stared him down in their first year to the day she stood beside him at the Christmas Bowl, he had never…responded this way. It was like he was letting her see something incredibly personal. She brought a hand up to her heart, hammering in her chest. She shrugged off the coat and laid it over one of the leather couches.

Somehow, she was more nervous now than she was earlier. In some ways, she still could not believe that it happened on the football field of Deimon. Or that it had happened at all. But what she had said on the walk to Hiruma's hotel was true: if she had to do it over again, she still would have done the same thing.

"Hiruma-kun!"

Hiruma glanced back at her. Grinned. "You look like you have a bee up your skirt, fucking manager."

"Is it true?"

This time, he turned to face her. "What's true?"

"Are you really moving to America?"

There was no smile. Just a slight rise of his eyebrows. But he didn't laugh or shoot his gun into the air or call her an idiot. He didn't do any of that. He just stood and met her gaze.

Anezaki Mamori felt something else move her. She felt an emotion drive her legs forward, as she launched herself into Hiruma and kiss him, desperately.

Hiruma said nothing. His hands had come up automatically when she jumped. Now, he simply held her, hands on her bottom, as he slowly guided her lips and her tongue with his own. His own tongue swept inside her mouth and tasted her. His legs folded underneath him, and he carried her down to the ground. He kissed her jaw, and licked her neck, his tongue rough. Mamori clung to his shoulders, gasping, a lovely, liquid heat pooling in her lower body.

Hiruma's hands were unbelievably hot as they came under her shirt and the fingers splayed out in her back. He snapped Mamori's bra open, and Hiruma leaned, his tongue darting over Mamori's nipple. Mamori cried out, her hips moving against him.

Hiruma laid her out in the grass, unbuttoning her shirt. He looked down at her, unsmiling, eyes incredibly intense. He came down, his lips moving over her skin, one of his large hands cupping her breast, thumb grazing her breast. Slowly, Hiruma began to drive Mamori with his hands and his lips, touching her stomach, her hips, the back of her legs. Mamori was soon panting.

"Hiruma, please."

Hiruma looked at her, understood what she was asking. His hand came up to caress her cheek. "No regrets, fucking manager."

Mamori shook her head. "No. No regrets."

Hiruma pushed aside the crotch of her panties, and began to rub the soft, tender flesh. Mamori nearly jumped out her skin, but the blonde held her down. Liquid spilled over Hiruma's fingers, and he cursed. He moved down Mamori's body and ducked under her skirt.

"Hiruma-kun?" Mamori nearly screamed as Hiruma began to lick her down there. The embarrassment was washed away in the intense pleasure as Hiruma's tongue slipped in and lapped her up. When she came, Mamori was clinging to the grass, legs unable to move in the aftermath.

Hiruma surfaced and when he took a look at her face, he cursed again, undoing his belt, almost fumbling as he pulled down his zipper and took out his penis. He rubbed the length himself between Mamori's legs, making her moan. The disciplinary officer pulled his head down, kissing him fiercely. Hiruma pulled away, guiding the tip of his penis to her opening. He looked at her, poised to plunge in. Mamori lifted a hand and tugged at his collar. Hiruma took the hand and held it as drove himself in. Then he stopped for a second, quivering, as the blood flowed down to her skirt.

Mamori's arms came around him, as she waited for the hurt to ease. Then he began to move, and Mamori, carried on the waves of his motion, clung to Hiruma. The pressure in her lower body began to build again and her hips began to move with him, and as they moved faster, harder, Mamori bit his shoulder when the orgasm hit her, the waves of pleasure nearly driving any coherent thought out her mind. Hiruma shuddered, coming a moment after her.

Faintly, Mamori heard Hiruma say as he settled himself on top her, "Fucking manager, you're going to have to take my coat."

"What are you sitting there for?" Hiruma stood in the doorway of his bedroom, a towel wrapped around his hips.

Mamori shook her head as she stood. She carefully avoided looking below his waist. "You know, for all that we can understand each other without actually speaking, there are still some things that I would wait for you to say."

"Like fucking what?"

Mamori began to make her way towards him. "I don't know. Like, yes you can come into my bedroom. Yes, I have feelings for you. Yes, I'll take you with me to America. Yes, I'll stay here in Japan."

Hiruma looked at her, eyebrows rising with every word she said. "You finally get into my pants, so now, you'll start bossing me around."

Mamori laughed. "Don't I already boss you around? There has to be some other benefit to giving you my virginity?"

"Nothing. I don't know why you're so stupid, doing that when you don't even know if I'll really go. And you'd be really stupid if you did that to keep me here."

She stood in front of him. "Well," she said carefully, "I love you."

Hiruma jerked as if he had been struck.

"Don't be surprised." Mamori said, her eyes flashing. "You should have known that by now. Of all the people I could give my heart, soul and body to, you are the worst choice I could make. With your blackmailing, your violence, your cursing, your being emotionally unavailable—"

Hiruma pulled her against him, "My being emotionally unavailable?" he said incredulously. He picked her up and made his way into the bathroom.

"You are, Hiruma."

"Ahh, I see." He dropped her in the large bath tub.

She shrieked. She came out spluttering, but all indignation was swept away when Hiruma let the towel fall. He climbed into the tub with her and leaned back, grinning at her.

Mamori looked at him mulishly. Two could play that game, she thought. She stood up in her wet things and began to undress, tossing everything over the tub. And she saw to her satisfaction, that even though Hiruma was resisting discomfort, his eyes sweeping over the wet, white blouse were not comfortable at all. Then, he saw her looking at his face, and he grinned up at her, unrepentant.

"Stripping for cream puffs, are we?"

Mamori bared her teeth at him and threw away the last piece of clothing, putting her hands on her hips. She would have killed Hiruma had she heard his thoughts as he looked at her, angry and naked. So he continued to grin up at her, "I'll wash your back, if you wash mine."

She made a sound of disgust and settled into the water, but sitting at a far corner, away from Hiruma. He came over, anyway, and soaped her, grinning the whole time. Honestly! It made her wonder what she ever saw in him.

To her exasperation, he carried her out of the bathtub and into bed. He dressed her in one his shirts and firmly tucked her into his arms.

Then he closed his eyes. Mamori poked him. "What? No sex or camera?"

Hiruma didn't bother to open his eyes. "When we get married, then I'll use the camera. Video, too."

Mamori lay extremely still. She wasn't sure if she had just heard that right. And, you know, sometimes, Hiruma said things, and it turned out he was bluffing.

Then, Hiruma drew her closer. "You know, fucking manager. As much as we can understand each other without words, sometimes, I need you to say things, too."

"Like what?" she said softly.

"Like, yes."

Mamori smiled. And to spite him, she said nothing at all, but she snuggled in closer to his chest.