Notes: Hello and welcome to my first attempt at Prince of Tennis fan fiction! I'm actually being a very bad little author in starting this because I really should be finishing some other stories, but this idea has been bugging me and so it must be written! However, my beta reader is not very happy about that so this is probably going to remain unchecked. I'm very sorry! I'll try to keep my mistakes to a minimum! I'm also very sorry that this is such a short and frustratingly unrevealing opening. Think of it as a game! You can try and guess who might be narrating…I bet none of you will get it.
Warnings: Bad things will happen! The big things you need to know about are suicide and torture (probably of many kinds) and of course the fact that there will be gay love. Don't want to read about that kind of thing, stop right here!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of it!
Prologue
Why? It was the one question he never asked me. It's the most natural question in the world, when someone hurts you that badly you want to know why they did it, but he never asked me. Plenty of other people did. In fact, everybody else did. They asked it like it was an easy question to answer. They asked it like human motivation is the simplest thing to explain. Even I asked it. I asked myself why I did it and I asked why he did what he did. When I remember those long nights of selfish pondering it makes me hate myself all over again because I had no right to question his motivations and he had every right to question mine and yet he never did.
Motivations. Reasons. We pluck from the air most of the time. A human beings mind is something so complex it's impossible to understand its thought processes and the logic behind the things it makes a person do. I should know. I had to answer all those questions. Why? What does that even mean? And why isn't " just because" a valid answer? It's all because of emotion. Emotions get in the way of rational thought and stop a persons actions being black and white. I seriously doubt I could have given a truthful answer to that question at the time, let alone after the event. Though, hindsight often gives us the gift of eloquence and allows us to provide answers and reasons where there probably never were any.
Hindsight. The very thing that throws the entire idea of our civilization into question, because everything is viewed in hindsight and hindsight is a thing that distorts and corrupts the reality of the past. I plan to tell you a story and a story is all it will be, though I am recounting true events and attempting to paint an accurate picture of the things that occurred, I am doing so in hindsight. This is not a diary. You are not seeing these events through my eyes as I stood there and watched them happen. You are seeing these events as I perceive them now, years after they occurred. I will try to explain myself and tell you why I did what I did but you must reach your own judgements, as I cannot guarantee you the truth.
You must be wondering why I'm telling you all this. The answers simple. I don't want you to hate me after reading what I have to say. I want to make sure you don't think I'm forcing you to see things my way and I want you to understand how little, logical and therefore ultimately cruel thought went into my actions. I did not set out to cause the damage I did and what I'm trying to show you is that hindsight is the only thing that allows us to see the ultimate consequences of our actions. I do not wish anyone to accuse me of making the conscious decision to produce the results I did.
But why does all that matter? Why does it matter if my actions were thoroughly premeditated or not? It matters because this is the story of how I almost killed the person I love.
Review! Let me know what you think!