The Weight of Dreams, Eyeshield 21
Saturday, 20 March 2021 14:23![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
derwent_fTitle: The Weight of Dreams
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Characters: Hiruma Youichi, Mushanokouji "The Kid" Shien
Rating: G
Summary: Kid wakes up in a hospital room. Post 246th down: Honoured Name on the Tombstone.
Notes: Shipoween 2020 gift for![[archiveofourown.org profile]](https://p2.dreamwidth.org/b164c54b26e4/-/archiveofourown.org/favicon.ico)
Senri, which I just remember to post here now.
The white ceiling was the first thing Kid saw when he opened his eyes.
For a moment, he wondered why he was back in his room – wait, what day is it? – before his eyes caught the cast covering his left arm and the recollection of what went down in the field slammed him with the force equal to that of Gaou’s.
A strangled gasp escaped from his mouth. Really he had no reason to be surprised. Of course the moment he dared to voice his dream was the moment it got destroyed.
“Unless you want to break some more fucking bones, stop moving around,” that voice could only belong to one person, but still Kid had trouble believing that it was really Hiruma Youichi who was sitting vigil for him, perched on the beige armchair to his right with laptop on his lap as usual, like a twisted version of guardian angel – or more appropriately, a guardian demon.
Against the suffocating white of the hospital, Hiruma’s face was unsettlingly pale, another evidence of how Kid’s world had been turned upside down. He wondered, briefly, if Hiruma saw in his broken body a version of his own future. That thought was quickly replaced, though, when he realized the lack of his teammates in the small room.
“Tetsuma?” he asked, not bothering to disguise the alarm in his voice.
“In another room.” Then Hiruma added, seeing the question in his eyes, “He’s gonna have to spend several nights here, but his injuries are not as fucking bad as yours.”
“And Riku?”
“They’re keeping him for observation, but most likely fucking albino pipsqueak can go home tomorrow.”
He still had another question, but before he could ask, Hiruma had already answered, “Tch, stop catastrophizing, their injuries are not permanent. Neither is yours.”
Kid blinked. That’s . . . good, certainly better than the nightmares his mind had conjured. He let out a relieved sigh, eyes taking in his surroundings. It was a cozy private room, which he was grateful for, because he really couldn’t stand the thought of sharing a space with others right now. It was undoubtedly Hiruma’s doing, blackmailing one of the doctors, perhaps, or maybe the hospital administration. He stole a glance outside the window. Tokyo's skyline, filtered through the gauze curtain, was at once both familiar and foreign. They must've been pretty high up, he reckoned.
Come to think of it . . . “Why are you here?”
“They didn’t tell me you got concussion as well, fucking eyebrows. What do you think?”
Kid shrugged – or tried to, anyway. He couldn’t really move much. “Seibu is not just me, Tetsuma, and Riku, as you surely know.”
The infuriating blond just rolled his eyes. Interesting, Kid thought, and filed it away for later speculations. Right now, he had a more important question.
“Tell me you have plans for facing Gaou.”
Hiruma’s lips split into his trademark grin, but Kid thought he saw . . . apprehension? shadowing his eyes for the briefest of moment.
“Like I ever run out of plans, Shien.” He closed his black laptop, put it inside its bag, and stood up from the armchair.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Kid called out after him.
Hiruma waved his hand in disdain. “I've got better things to do, fucking eyebrows.”
Despite the misery threatening to overwhelm him, Kid smiled. He’d known Hiruma long enough to decipher what his answer really meant.
It was a yes.
Fandom: Eyeshield 21
Characters: Hiruma Youichi, Mushanokouji "The Kid" Shien
Rating: G
Summary: Kid wakes up in a hospital room. Post 246th down: Honoured Name on the Tombstone.
Notes: Shipoween 2020 gift for
The white ceiling was the first thing Kid saw when he opened his eyes.
For a moment, he wondered why he was back in his room – wait, what day is it? – before his eyes caught the cast covering his left arm and the recollection of what went down in the field slammed him with the force equal to that of Gaou’s.
A strangled gasp escaped from his mouth. Really he had no reason to be surprised. Of course the moment he dared to voice his dream was the moment it got destroyed.
“Unless you want to break some more fucking bones, stop moving around,” that voice could only belong to one person, but still Kid had trouble believing that it was really Hiruma Youichi who was sitting vigil for him, perched on the beige armchair to his right with laptop on his lap as usual, like a twisted version of guardian angel – or more appropriately, a guardian demon.
Against the suffocating white of the hospital, Hiruma’s face was unsettlingly pale, another evidence of how Kid’s world had been turned upside down. He wondered, briefly, if Hiruma saw in his broken body a version of his own future. That thought was quickly replaced, though, when he realized the lack of his teammates in the small room.
“Tetsuma?” he asked, not bothering to disguise the alarm in his voice.
“In another room.” Then Hiruma added, seeing the question in his eyes, “He’s gonna have to spend several nights here, but his injuries are not as fucking bad as yours.”
“And Riku?”
“They’re keeping him for observation, but most likely fucking albino pipsqueak can go home tomorrow.”
He still had another question, but before he could ask, Hiruma had already answered, “Tch, stop catastrophizing, their injuries are not permanent. Neither is yours.”
Kid blinked. That’s . . . good, certainly better than the nightmares his mind had conjured. He let out a relieved sigh, eyes taking in his surroundings. It was a cozy private room, which he was grateful for, because he really couldn’t stand the thought of sharing a space with others right now. It was undoubtedly Hiruma’s doing, blackmailing one of the doctors, perhaps, or maybe the hospital administration. He stole a glance outside the window. Tokyo's skyline, filtered through the gauze curtain, was at once both familiar and foreign. They must've been pretty high up, he reckoned.
Come to think of it . . . “Why are you here?”
“They didn’t tell me you got concussion as well, fucking eyebrows. What do you think?”
Kid shrugged – or tried to, anyway. He couldn’t really move much. “Seibu is not just me, Tetsuma, and Riku, as you surely know.”
The infuriating blond just rolled his eyes. Interesting, Kid thought, and filed it away for later speculations. Right now, he had a more important question.
“Tell me you have plans for facing Gaou.”
Hiruma’s lips split into his trademark grin, but Kid thought he saw . . . apprehension? shadowing his eyes for the briefest of moment.
“Like I ever run out of plans, Shien.” He closed his black laptop, put it inside its bag, and stood up from the armchair.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Kid called out after him.
Hiruma waved his hand in disdain. “I've got better things to do, fucking eyebrows.”
Despite the misery threatening to overwhelm him, Kid smiled. He’d known Hiruma long enough to decipher what his answer really meant.
It was a yes.
