Carpe Diem, Eyeshield 21

[derwent_f]

Title: Carpe Diem

Fandom: Eyeshield 21

Characters: Koizumi Karin, Himuro "Maria" Maruko

Rating: G

Series: Part 1 of Unexpected

Summary: A chance meeting with the former Hakushu Dinosaurs manager leads Karin to confront her feelings about football.

Notes: Mild AU, in that Karin hasn't been assigned to write about Eyeshield 21.

Fill for the prompt 'Declarations of Love' on my ladiesbingo card. Also because I recently reread the manga and got annoyed all over again by the lack of Hakushu Dinosaurs in the epilogue.

There wasn’t a single inch available on the bleachers as far as her eyes could see, whether on the home side or on the away side. Karin grimaced; it was Ojo Silver Knights vs Saikyodai Wizards, of course there wouldn’t be. And really, it was her own fault: impulsively coming to the game at the last minute, what did she expect?

 

With a sigh, she scanned the bleachers once more. If she still couldn’t find an empty spot, she’d just have to suck it and go home.

 

She almost missed it – but there, two rows below, on the far left edge of the bleachers, was a small empty spot.

 

She walked down the steps and gingerly made her way across, apologizing all the while to the sitting audience (Excuse me, I’m sorry, would you mind?), careful not to step on or trip over someone’s leg. After what seemed like hours, she finally got to the edge of the bleachers, where a woman in a navy buttoned-up shirt and black jeans sat alone.

 

“Excuse me,” she began, raising her voice a little against the buzzing crowd, “Um, is this seat taken?”

 

The woman’s face turned towards her. Karin’s breath caught. The face was all elegant sharp lines and cool detachment, the face of an empress from far back in history. Her fingers itched with the urge to capture that face on paper.

 

“No,” she answered, face turning into a frown, examining Karin’s, recognition dawning. “Koizumi Karin? Teikoku’s quarterback?”

 

Karin blinked. Now that she had a good look at the woman, she realized that she’d seen her before somewhere. Her brain flipped through the list of friends and acquaintances, before something finally clicked. “Himuro … Maria, right? Hakushu Dinosaurs?”

 

“It’s Maruko, actually,” Maria – no, Maruko said. It was a little strange – Karin swore Mamori called her Maria, but, well – it wasn’t like she knew the woman. They’d only met once before, at the party welcoming Team Japan’s youth delegation home, several months after Teikoku’s infamous first defeat. Even then they barely got introduced; there were simply too many people for any genuine conversation to take place.

 

Maruko scooted over a little to the edge of the bleachers, leaving Karin to sit between her and the others. She sat down gratefully. “Thank you,” her smile was returned with a nod.

 

“Your former teammates didn’t save you a seat?” The question startled Karin. “Ah, they offered. But I had an appointment before this, and I wasn’t sure I’d make it, so I told them not to bother,” she explained, feeling the flush of embarrassment creeping up her face. It was silly, but Maruko, even in casual jeans and buttoned shirt, looked so mature and put together that Karin felt like a child beside her.

 

Changing the subject seemed like the best course of action. “What about you? I didn’t know you’re still involved with football.”

 

“I’m not,” Maruko replied. Karin blinked, gaze sweeping around their surroundings, taking in the excited audience and their various football paraphernalia.

 

Maruko’s face remained impassive, but there was a hint of amusement in her tone. “I’m a sophomore here,” she explained simply.

 

“Oh … I didn’t know that,” once again a blush crept up her face. Mamori had never mentioned Maruko at all, and Karin wondered if the former even knew. She hadn’t heard anything from Suzuna either, and considering how much of a gossip the cheerleader was, the fact that the woman beside her managed to slip under her radar was … pretty impressive, actually. She wondered where the other former Dinosaurs were. Gaou, she knew, still played football with Takekura Construction Babel. But the quarterback, Marco, or the cornerback, whose name she couldn’t remember … she hadn’t heard anything about them either.

 

If Maruko gave any reply, it was swallowed by the audience’s deafening roar. The game began with (as expected) Saikyodai’s offense. Even from her seat, Hiruma’s intimidating grin, as the players took their position on the field, was evident.

 

Hiruma’s body twisted, and Karin knew, instinctively, where and how he would pass the ball. Her fingers twitched. She watched the ball sailed in an arc through the air, and knew, as surely as if she’d thrown it herself, that despite Sakuraba’s towering presence, the ball would land where it was meant to: in Taka’s ready hands.

 

From there it would be a battle between Taka, Yamato, and Shin. But Karin’s mind was still replaying that pass, reliving the moment again and again, until the woman beside her spoke and brought her back down to the bleachers.

 

“Do you miss it? Being on the field?”

 

“What?” Her mouth began to form the practiced denial she gave every time someone – her parents, her brothers, her friends, even Taka and Yamato – asked her that question. But Maruko was looking at her with a face that revealed no expectation, only genuine curiosity, and it reached something deep inside her. Everyone always simply assumed that of course Karin was happy that now she could focus on her drawing without the distraction of football. Not even Mamori or Suzuna, with all their passion for football, seemed to grasp it.

 

Sure, it was Yamato’s persistence coupled with her inability to say no that first brought her into the team. But why couldn’t anyone see that afterwards, it was Karin, and herself only, who stuck to the grueling training? It was Karin who practiced and memorized and climbed the ranks to the first string and held her place there. Why didn’t anyone see that?

 

And here was Maruko, practically a stranger, who made no assumption where it was so easily made. Karin snapped her mouth shut.  Her mind returned to those nights, where after a long day training, she lay on her bed, besieged by exhaustion beyond what she thought a human being could bear. Every muscle on her body ached, pushed and stretched beyond their limits. And yet, football was the only time where her body, so perpetually awkward, for once moved in harmony. She had never felt more at home in her body than during those moments, where every part of her hurt and her blood sang with the thrill of being alive, alive, alive.

 

Maruko was still looking at her with that black eyes of hers, and Karin felt reckless.

 

“Yes, I do,” for the first time, an honest answer. “And you?”

 

Maruko’s gaze turned and took in the field. “I came here to find the answer. Surprisingly, I do, just a little.” Her eyes found Karin’s once more, and something like an acknowledgement passed between them.

 

No more words passed between them for the rest of the game. Karin became perfectly aware of the points where their bodies touched: the elbows, the hips, the thighs.

 

The game ended with the Wizards’s victory, though not easily. “A good game,” Karin offered. Maruko hummed in what might be agreement or mere indifference.  She stood up, bag slung across her body, ready to go.

 

Karin blinked, and felt somewhat deflated. That’s it? She’s just gonna walk away? But what did Maruko owe her? When it came down to it, they were strangers, acquaintance at best.

 

But there was something that made Karin felt like taking a chance again. She jumped up to her feet. “You know, there’s this new café nearby I’ve been meaning to check out,” she began, resolutely ignoring the flush creeping up her face. “So, uh, if you’ve got no other plans – wanna go?”

 

Maruko’s eyebrows rose, a flash of surprise, and something inside Karin felt thrilled being able to catch her off guard. Around them, people were talking, laughing, slowly leaving in groups. Her former teammates had made their way down the bleachers to the field; mingling with the players, catching up with both old and new friends. They’d want her to join them. She should join them.

 

But the sky above was blue and fresh, the spring sun shining down on them. She’d like to try something new. “We don’t have to talk about football,” her assurance came out with a gentle teasing note that surprised her. 

 

The corners of Maruko’s lips curled upward into a faint, yet genuine, smile. “Alright,” and gestured to Karin to lead the way.

 

She didn’t hold back the pleased, excited smile she gave in return. It’s spring, after all – the season of renewal, of growing new branches and discovering new ties. Why not seize this opportunity?