Disclaimer: I don't own Eyeshield 21, Inagaki Riichirou and Murata Yuusuke do (Not to mention Shueisha and Viz). This is a non-profit fanwork.
Hatred is Holy
by Fushigi Kismet
Sometimes she thinks she hates him. Sometimes she thinks she loves him. Sometimes she thinks there is no difference as long as she is with him.
They hop the line of love and hate like children skipping rope. But the ease with which they do it is deceptive; the rhythm lulls them into thinking, This is easy; this can go on forever, but fatigue creeps stealthily up their legs and when she stumbles she drags him down with her in a tangle of love and hate and arms and legs and stray football equipment.
"Fucking manager," he groans, opening his eyes to see her sprawled on top of him.
She blinks and hastily scrambles into a sitting position with a "Don't call me that!" as he sits up, brushing off someone's elbow pads.
"You should fucking watch where you're going, fucking manager." And then he runs a curious finger over a stray strand of her hair, eliciting a vehement "I hate you," but he watches her tremble as she says it.
"Hatred is holy," he says, grinning as he nuzzles the corner of her jaw, "but love is divine. Or some fucking shit like that. Gonna sit on my lap all day?"
She arches her neck and pulls her hair aside. "Yes."