Family Matters

-X-

The baby that the teacher had pulled out from the box was a boy.

The class watched in anticipation as he gave it to them. The plastic doll would be the unofficial white flag that would soon end this Mating War, and the symbol that declared Hiruma as safely taken, and that they could now breathe in relief without having to worry about their partners rigging up a bomb inside their assigned baby's chest.

Once she took it, there would be no backing out. Either she took it, or risk failing. She had to, no matter how horrifyingly unstable their compatibility was, and no matter how unhealthy and violent their relationship would be, she just had to, dammit.

No doubt, she might soon quickly realize the dire mistake she had made and try to draw back out of the partnership, and if she did that, hell would ensue. Again.

They would be left with so much of a clusterfuck that they would only be a little surprised if Mamori put up a fight to get the baby out of her hands, and they couldn't blame her of it, because well... the situation was that distressing.

Though, she was the only person in their class... grade, who could compensate with the blond quarterback's random antics of creating havoc and shit-storms, and the only one who actually cared enough to send cards and apology letters after.

So they watched with great intent, and fervently hoped to God, she would accept it with grace and pressured resignation.

Mamori tried not to drop the baby as soon as it was handed to her. She stared at its eyes, suddenly not knowing whether she should embrace it in all its adorable glory or throw it out the window, screaming.

The auburn-haired girl snapped herself out of her reverie, shocked from her own thoughts. Instead, she forced a smile. A very obvious, pained one, but nonetheless, a smile. The whole class sighed in relief, wiping the sweat of their brows.

Shit. That was close. Truthfully, they expected some sort of carnage to happen out of the situation, namely in the form of the box of fake infants exploding, or the baby in the auburn-haired girl's hand, and then eventually her own arm.

The class discreetly switched their views to Hiruma, who was picking his nails, and then to Mamori, waiting for the inevitable slap-shock to hit her like a ton of bricks, and for the mortifying realization of what she had just done to enter her features.

There was a pause as the girl just sort of stood there, and finally thanked the teacher, unknowing what else to do.

A cry of shock and amazement broke throughout the classroom. Clearly, she was out of her mind. And so very, very very, dearly,self-sacrificing.

Really, now. Mamori thought as she sighed depressingly over her classmates' habit of blowing things out of proportion. It wasn't that big of a deal; it was just a classroom project. It wasn't like they had actually gone out and, and did it, you know, and had a baby, because... because well, they were partially right. This was Hiruma they were talking about, and her.

The 'son' wasn't even a son-- it was just a plastic baby doll for a Health project, and. And, she immediately wanted to claw her eyes out just thinking about it.

They were still in high school, for Pete's sake. Too young and seventeen and students and it really wasn't that much of a big deal. It wasn't like it was true, anyway, you know. They were only pretending. There was no way they would do, even discuss, that together.

And, and even if it was real—like if the world had suddenly ended and they were the last two surviving people on Earth, and she had gone insane and decided to marry him, or. Or become 'lovers', since the idea of marrying the blond was just preposterous-- they still wouldn't go out and do it.

'It' was the term. And they wouldn't do it. Even if the human race depended on them. They would not do it.

They would instead adopt… a… a cheetah, or a jaguar, or whatever. Even an alien baby, but they would not reproduce.

She didn't want something like his traits mixing in with her future child's gene pool, and God knew that the world didn't need a second Hiruma Youichi, AKA the boy who grew up in the very spitfires of hell, walking around unsolicited in their planet.

And what was worse, if it would happen, then she would be out-numbered. Two Tasmanian devils set loose, totting guns, and one miserable woman trying to hold onto the last of her sanity. It was unfair.

Who in their right minds would even want to give birth to the blond demon's child? For all they knew, the baby wouldn't even need giving birth to. It'd just claw its way out of her stomach and pop out with an indignant curse and his father's signature "YA-HA!" and the doctors and nurses would be too frightened to cut the umbilical cord, so the blond quarterback would have to do it and of course he'd resort to shooting her bloody stomach.

So, it was decided. They would not do it, ever ever ever, so there was no need to freak out. Which she wasn't doing.

They sat back down in their seats, Mamori holding the plastic doll on her lap when she noticed that Hiruma had been glaring at her for the last few minutes.

"What?" She finally asked, a little irritated due to the hellish thoughts her mind had came up with earlier. It seemed that 'Hell' and 'Hiruma' were now synonyms in her brain, but weren't they always?

The boy had immediately scowled. "Are you stalking me, damn manager?"

"What?" Her eyes crinkled. "I sit here, Hiruma."

"Why the fuck do you have to sit so close?"

"I don't know," Mamori made a face. "You're making it sound like it's my fault."

"Probably is. You rigged the seating charts, didn't you?" He sneered.

Mamori scoffed. "What would I gain from seating next to you?"

"The answers from yesterday's test." Hiruma smirked, and turned back around to face the glowing screen of his laptop before she could protest; though his eyes couldn't help but stray on the plastic doll again as he did so, and he suddenly let out an almost garbled sound.

"Fucking hell." Hiruma snapped. "Damn manager, don't hold the thing like that!"

"Like what?" Mamori inquired, staring at his twisted expression with a bit of confusion. Did he mean that she should hold it properly? The girl shifted the baby on her lap, repositioning it so that she was now carrying it in her arms.

Hiruma's eye twitched a little. Just a little, before he re-composed himself. "Nothing."

"Oh... okay." Mamori said skeptically, now wondering why the quarterback hadn't even dismissed the idea of the project, though somehow felt that she already knew the answer to the question and so never asked. It's not a big deal.

-X-

She was instantly tackled into a hug by Sara after the locker exchange between their electives.

Apparently, the story of her being the 'spawner of the demon' had already spread like wildfire to almost half of the second-year students.

It was only because they took Health during the same period, which provided an easier access for the gossips to pass, and because some brave bastard out there managed to escape a certain notorious student's hidden cameras, and still had enough courage left in her or him to risk spilling the most outrageous gossip ever to grace Deimon's halls.

It was quite outstanding, actually.

The only other story that probably had a chance of topping it off of being the most ridiculous rumor ever, was if a tornado broke out in the middle of the school hallways and killed Hiruma.

Captivating as the idea may sound, though, it would never happen. Not because the story was so preposterously inane (like, come on, a tornado? Why not a hurricane?), but because Hiruma couldn't just be killed by a simple tornado. Oh no. You had to sever all of the limbs first and burn the body, to make sure that he wouldn't ever come back.

Thankfully, most of the rumors hadn't reach the first-years yet, though the third years were catching on pretty quickly, having quite the eccentric juniors running around. However, it wouldn't be long before Hiruma himself finally heard the rumors, saved whatever ass-kicker he's got in his laptop, and raise hell all over the school.

The grounds would crack, revealing a swirling black hole at the bottom, which was supposed to be hell, and thunder and lightning would crackle outside the school's grounds threateningly.

He would then probably take the baby, the bane of all the gossip, and throw it off of the edge of the swirling black hole as a sacrifice, and Anezaki, being the saintly person that she was, would probably risk her life saving the baby and die in the end, God pity her.

These were only some of the latest gossip the students of Deimon had conjured up in the scarce forty-five minutes of their next elective, after they had heard that Hiruma, now subjected as the Deimon-Serial-Baby-Killer (adding another name to his lists of nicknames) was partnering up with her for the project.

Mamori was a little more than horrified when she heard of this.

Ako, her glasses-wearing friend, could only snort as they made their way down their classroom for lunch. "Well, what do you expect, Mamo? It's Hiruma's baby. You're the 'mother' of his child." She made air quotations.

Mamori buried her face deep between her fingers. "Adoptive." She sighed. "I'm the adoptive mother of Hiruma-kun's adopted child. And please don't say it like that."

"Well, okay, but that still doesn't change the fact that you're 'adoptive parents' together," the pony-tailed girl sniffed.

Mamori's head snapped up. "Who says we're together?"

"Who says you are?" Ako countered questioningly, giving her a suspicious eyebrow-lift. Mamori sighed again, rubbing her face tiredly.

"Oh God." Sara had instantly erupted at their left, features scrunching at a sudden thought. "Remember when he blew up the girl's locker room and sent some poor kid to fetch you?"

"Sena. It was Sena." Mamori muttered helpfully. "And he kept his eyes closed all the way through."

"Oh yeah, I remember. I was only half-way dressed during that time." Ako commented blankly. Sarah made strangling gestures beside her. "My locker was reduced to a heap of metal junk! I had to be moved all the way back with the laundry!"

"And here I was hoping that our kids could have a play-date," Ako sighed, shaking her head disappointingly. "But imagine how much of a playground bully your kid's gonna grow up to be."

"None of my children will be playground bullies, I assure you." Mamori tried to sound very sure of this, though her resolve came out broken like her voice. "And you forgot to mix in some of my traits with the baby's. I'm sure it'd be all right." She tried once more, feebly.

"It wouldn't work." Ako crossed her arms. "Manga statistics show that evil genes are pre-dominant over good ones. Haven't you ever seen the movies?"

"And, God, it even looks a little like him." Sara blurted, nose crinkling.

Mamori's eyes widened, horrified. "Sara!"

"Yes, Sara, don't just drop it on poor Mamo like that. Even if it is, slightly true."

-X-

The auburn-haired girl fidgeted a little as she bit her lip, staring at the plastic baby in her hand intensely. Her eyes wavered.

It does not look like him, she decided finally, consoling herself. Mamori shut her eyes for a split second before opening them back up again. See? It looks perfectly normal. It's fine. The baby's adorable. Sara was just one to blurt random things.

The baby stared back at her, unconvinced, like how Hiruma usually stared at her. Mamori had to turn another way so she wouldn't suddenly burst out crying.

She couldn't blame the terrorized looks she'd been getting all around the halls, as people paused opening their lockers and stared at her piteously, shaking their heads.

They all probably wondered if what the rumors said would come true, and, looking at the bewildered face of the demon spawn's mother, soon started wondering when she'd crack.

That poor, saintly girl had to be with him, of all people, and had to be burdened by his child, of all things, while the mad man just ran around laughing and knocked up more girls in his wake.

This was becoming more and more like those tragic, Shakespearean plays; the ones where the girls died in the end (though it was absolutely no Romeo and Juliet).

They felt utterly sorry for her, being paired up with a demonic monstrosity like him. It was like a sheep being mated with a wolf. Next thing you know, she would be trapped by his claws, and what the rumors predicted all along would come true.

The girl would be forced to chew her own leg just to get out of the horrid relationship, though it would already be too late.

He would've gotten her, and pulled off some sort of heinous, evil stunt, commit breaking and entering, and the axeman would've been too scared to even do anything to stop him, and eventually, when she came, he would immediately pounce on her and rip open her ribcage and eat her heart raw, just the way his mom probably made it when he was still a kid.

Mamori smiled sheepishly at her schoolmates sudden, almost shell-shocked faces. Judging from the petrified expressions they now wore, the rumors must've been getting more and more exaggerated.

There was a familiar pop of a bubblegum.

Mamori turned around just in time to see Hiruma standing behind her.

Oh.

He stared at them, and somebody must've fainted, assuming from the resounding 'thud' that echoed throughout the once bustling, but now eerily quiet, hallway.

It must've been frightening to talk about a certain pointy-eared quarterback and suddenly have him appear before you, like a fucking invisible lightning had just struck in the middle of the hallway and brought him there. They should've expected as much.

The students held their breaths, waiting as they anticipated the interactions between demon, spawn, and spawn-reproducer to play in front of them, because you really couldn't call a family like that simply as father, mother, and child.

To say the least, they were a little disappointed as they expected there to be some sort of battle between Heaven and hell, mostly in the form of Hiruma finally getting stabbed with a pointed cross and combusting into flames, while Mamori held the baby victoriously.

The former only had to shift his rifle onto his other shoulder, and immediately, the students turned away.

Mamori glanced to her right, staring at the dissipating crowd as they forcedly returned back to their everyday tasks unperturbed, or as unperturbed as one could be with Hiruma present and the constant wariness of getting shot ever conscious in their minds. She looked back at the blond.

"I was just on my way to the clubhouse," Mamori said, pleasantly thinking to herself that the baby didn't even look anything alike to its supposed adoptive father. Sara had been delusional.

Hiruma shrugged, seeming too disinterested about it. As he was with all school activities, per usual. "Walkin' with you, then." He said simply.

Seeing the demon, spawn, and spawn reproducer walking somewhat together, though, was still a shocking thing all by itself.

"Without Hiruma grabbing the baby and eating it, that is."

-X-

Mushashi quietly slid the door to the American Football Clubhouse open and gruffly stepped inside, Kurita trailing behind him.

"Oh?" He said suddenly, eyebrows lifting a bit, his features shifting to express rare surprise and growing amusement.

He stared at the baby sitting at the roulette table, and then to the blond quarterback busily typing at his laptop. He found it a little strange and uncharacteristic that Hiruma had even agreed to the whole baby project thing, much less actually bring it over with him to football practice.

Unless, you know, he planned on using it as a football. Or target practice for his marksmanship. But hey, maybe the blond had some nice, unusual fatherly tendencies once in a while.

"Uh. Hiruma...?" Kurita called hesitantly, also having noticed the presence of the plastic baby doll.

"I didn't know you were like that," Mushashi remarked as he sat down opposite their quarterback.

The blond barely glanced at him. "I'm not."

"Why'd you bring that plastic toy with you, then?"

"Why don't you have yours?" Hiruma countered easily, now looking up at them.

"I asked my partner if she could watch over it after school, since I knew it would've been a hindrance to you. But I never expected you to actually--" The kicker paused, noticing the slight twitch of their manager's shoulder at the corner of his eyes, "-- bring yours over here." A wide, almost scandalous grin broke out unto his face. "Oh my God, the rumors are true?"

"Which one?" Hiruma produced a gum and popped it into his mouth. "The part where I was stabbed with a cross, sacrifice the little shit, or where the damn manager over there ends up chewing off her own foot?"

"... you've heard them all?"

"I made up the one with her dying in the end."

"Wha-!" Mamori looked over at them, face shocked. She gritted her teeth, clenching her fists from the rising temptation of throwing a coffee mug over at a certain blond's head. "Hiruma!"

"Now, now, mother." He spoke, grinning despite himself. "We can't have violence in front of the baby. Kekeke."

Chapter End.

-X-

Sorry for some mistakes. I've gone over this chapter like two-hundred times now, and really, I'm getting sick and pissed off re-reading it over and over again.

Just please PM if you spot any grammar mistake, and I'll edit it. C:

And also, sorry for the very very very long wait. I just hope you guys still remember this little 'ol story. And I realize that I didn't do the things listed in the last chapter, but that was what kept me from updating. I promise I will still do them, though. C:

Alert and review! It fuels me, and my ability to go off track on the main point of the story to write humorous side notes! C:

-X-

EXCLUSIVELY NEXT CHAPTER:

Mamori woke up in a cold sweat.

Oh God. She just had a dream that she was married to...

To...

… ...

To Hiruma.

She shuddered violently, feeling cold, uneasy chills rampaging up and down her spine.

Oh, the humanity. The pure adulterated horror. People should really wear chastity belts nowadays, especially with maniacs like him running wild.