to have been a girl with you, Eyeshield 21

[derwent_f]

Title: to have been a girl with you

Fandom: Eyeshield 21

Characters: Koizumi Karin, Himuro "Maria" Maruko, Maruko "Marco" Reiji

Pairing: Koizumi Karin/Himuro "Maria" Maruko (pre-femslash); Himuro "Maria" Maruko/Maruko "Marco" Reiji (past)

Rating: G

Series: Part 2 of Unexpected

Summary: Maruko's turn to run into someone from the past and confront her feelings about a certain former quarterback.

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

Fill for the prompt 'Vulnerability' on my ladiesbingo card.

Title from Eloise Klein Healy's poem "Asking About You".

Totally wasn't planning on writing a sequel, but well, here we are. This one's more on the shippy side than the previous, though.

Almost no one who looks at the tall elegant woman – with her cool, composed face – will be able to guess what’s actually going on inside. Which is a good thing, since despite blending in perfectly with the crowd, Maruko has never felt more out of place.

 

She’s never been into art, and here, surrounded by Karin’s classmates and the arty crowd the exhibition draws, she’s painfully aware of the fact. The only reason she came was that Karin had personally asked her to.

 

“You don’t have to come, of course. I know it’s not your thing, so I totally understand if you’d rather not,” Karin had assured her, repeatedly. But her words held a note of insecurity, and Maruko found that she hated to make Karin felt that way. (Not surprised, though, it’d been some time coming.)

 

At least earlier in the evening she had company in the form of similarly supportive-yet-out-of-depth families and friends of the art students. She met Karin’s parents for the first time then. Karin’s a younger copy of her mother, while Maruko had to squint hard to find any resemblance with the loud, domineering man that was her father. Maruko, whose parents are of the quiet yet warm type, disliked him immediately. No wonder Karin was so eager to move into her own place.

 

It’s past midnight, though, and that crowd has since gone home, leaving only the art people around. Karin’s still talking to a couple of prospective buyer, and Maruko doesn’t want to interrupt. This night’s about Karin and her exhibition, and she’s here to support her.

 

“Of all places to run into you, this would be at the bottom of the list, I’d say.” She’d know that voice anywhere, anytime. Sure enough, when she turns around she finds herself face to face with Marco. As always, he looks as if he just steps out of a fashion ad, in his bespoke suit, Patek Philippe watch, and perfectly coiffed hair.

 

“Marco. Home for summer?” she wonders if he still plays football, stealing time between his classes at the fashion school in Italy.

 

“Visiting the folks. Saw the poster promoting this exhibition, seemed interesting. So here I am.”

 

She’s circled whole gallery twice and didn’t see him. But it’s not unusual – Marco’s always been good at stealth. It makes her slightly uneasy, not knowing how long Marco’s been watching or how much he’s seen. But it’s not the first time, either.

 

“So?” Marco prods. “Why are you here?”

 

“To support a friend,” she answers simply.

 

Marco raises an eyebrow. Then his gaze shifts to her left shoulder and an amused, knowing smirk takes over his face.

 

“I thought you were done with football.”

 

“I am,” she said, “Most of the time.” She knows better than to give him more clues. With Marco, it’s best to err on the side of discretion.

 

He takes a sip of the black liquid in his glass. Cola, obviously. Marco always finds a way to sneak that drink anywhere. It brings a small smile to her lips. She would never not find that habit of his amusing.

 

“Either way, good luck,” he says. “Don’t make the same mistake with her you did with me.” And with that perfectly-aimed remark, he turns around and waves a hand in goodbye.

 

Stop hinting, that’s what he meant. If you like her, tell her. Don’t leave her in limbo.

 

“Smug bastard,” she curses affectionately under her breath, reminded once again of her fondness for him.

 

The clicking of heels on marble floor alerts her that someone’s approaching. It’s Karin, lovelier than all the paintings around them in her burgundy dress.

 

“I’m so sorry I had to leave you again,” she winces.

 

“It’s alright,” Maruko says, and finds that she means it, too. She likes watching Karin talking about her paintings, her voice slightly pitched with enthusiasm.

 

“By the way, I thought I saw Marco?” she looks around uncertainly.

 

Maruko nods. “He was here earlier.”

 

“Oh.” Karin frowns. Then she adds, “You know, if you want to catch up with him or something, you’re totally free to do that. I’m sorry, I should have made it clear earlier. But you totally don’t have to stay here until the end …” as she tends to do when nervous, she begins to ramble.

 

“Karin,” she cuts the other woman off. Then takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “It’s fine, really. I’d rather much stay here, with you.”

 

It’s not enough, Maruko knows. She needs to tell Karin, out loud and clearly, how she feels. But as she watches a shy yet pleased smile begins to bloom on Karin’s blushing face, she can’t help but think that it’s a good start.