I don't own Prince of tennis

PROLOGUE

They say you never know how valuable something is until you've lost it. And they're right. As I look back to what was once my life I realize how beautiful everything had been.

Six month ago my life was perfect. I had no worries but school and my crush, of course being the shy girl that I was I could and would never tell him my feelings. I had a friend that always cheered me up, a loving grandmother and about a million dreams.

Five months ago my mother decided to come back home with her new boyfriend. She also decided that I was to live with her and not my grandma. This saddened me but the shadow it cast upon my blissful existence was as fleeting as a morning dream.

Four months ago my mom left for another one of her business deals leaving me alone in the newly furnished apartment with her new love. I still didn't mind and nothing seemed out of the ordinary I mean this was not the first time she left. True enough before she used to leave me with my grandma and not her boyfriend but in my childishly naïve mind I honestly believed that it meant she was more serious with this one than with all the others. I actually began fantasizing on what it would be like to have a father again and it felt nice.

That was the last time I was childish or happy for that matter. The last time I would watch life with hope filled eyes and think it was my playground. The last time I would trust someone or dare dream.

One day three months ago I arrived home a bit late for my teacher decided to keep me after class. I can remember everything perfectly, the eerie atmosphere that seemed to engulf the entire apartment, the lack of sound the darkness that greeted me when I entered and him. Why I don't know, I never did and most probably never will, but he grabbed my hands roughly not caring about the pain he was causing me and began screaming at me. I was so terrified that I couldn't answer his questions which only made him angrier resulting in him throwing me against the wall. I remember the pain that coursed through my body as he started hitting me over and over again. And all I could do was cry and pray it would stop.

When it finally did I couldn't move for the pain was too great, so I just sat there hugging my knees as tightly as I could crying till I passed out. I woke up later in my room. My first thought was "It was all a dream." But the bruises I saw in the mirror spoke of a different truth, one I didn't want to hear. I slowly made my way to the door only to find it locked, on my nightstand was a first aid kit a bottle of water and some food, that is if you can call two bags of potato chips food.

For some reason I didn't panic or freak out, I took everything with calm, too much calm. One could say that I was on the verge of something, what I may never find out.

The next day he let me out at about eight at night. Seeing how the house was empty I made a run for it. Go to my grandma that's what I thought, she will make everything better. But when I arrived there as soon as she saw me she slapped me. I didn't know what to say; although her slap was far gentler than his fists it hurt 10 times more. Why? What did I do? I was the victim here and yet she saw me as the criminal? I ran to my last refuge, the last place where I could find help. I went to my best friend in search of answers and help. I only received answers.

Apparently He told everyone I ran of with a gang after steeling money from him and threatening to hurt him. I almost laughed at this. The image was two ridiculous for my mind to conceive.

They forced me to go back to him that very night telling me what a disappointment I was and how they would make sure I wouldn't stray from the right path again.

After that the days were a blur to me, the bruises on my body began to spread like a disease and my so called friends abandoned me thinking I really was in a gang. Soon enough he wasn't satisfied with just bruises so I started showing up at school with broken arms or deep cuts that forever stained my uniform. And nobody cared, not even I.

One month ago I held a total of over half a dozen hospitalizations a broken arm cuts that varied in lengh from one to six inches, a broken nose three broken ribs and a criminal record. That's right I was officially a criminal, for you see at some time my accidents seemed to raise suspicions so he arranged it so that it would seem like I tried to rob his house but my partner double-crossed me. They never caught my partner but the police was proud in apprehending me. I never said anything, never denied never even tried to reason with them, because that was impossible. They were the enemy and I had to keep my guard up no matter what. I always tried to escape and I always ended up in the hospital afterwards.

Two weeks ago I was hospitalized because of a knife wound in my left side. Although I lost a lot of blood I unfortunately lived. I say unfortunately because if I would have died two things would be accomplished one I would finally have some peace and two he would be under investigation. But faith decided against me or so I thought then and allowed me to leave.

One week ago a detective came to my room and started questioning me. I turned my head the other way and decided to ignore her. She saw this so she began telling me a story. It was a story I was familiar with for it sounded a lot like my own.

"Ten years ago a girl was introduced to her mother's fiancé. The three of them lived happily together until one day her mother was called to school. It appears that the girl had bruises on her body; her attitude had changed from a happy trusting person to an isolated hateful one. The mother didn't know what to say and her daughter gave her no answers either. The one who seemingly knew what happened was the fiancé who talk about the fact that the girl was part of a gang. They tried to get her back on the right track yet nothing worked, she started running away from home and even stealing from her own family. Her accomplice was never caught though. After one year she committed suicide, leaving nothing in her wake but a letter and a grieving mother. In her fine handwriting a single phrase was said "you should have trusted me". The fiancé disappeared soon after. Tell me, does this storry sound familiar?"

"And if it does?" I asked full of distrust. She was a cop afterall and they can't be trusted.

"Then help me catch him"

"I thought the girl was in a gang, and that she killed herself, so I see no crime."

"Don't you? Are you really a criminal? Are you in a gang?"

"IF I say yes then we do things my way." I know I can't trust her but I really have nothing to lose right now.

"So be it"

Ten hours ago the plan was set into action and for the first time in what seemed forever I walked with my head held high. The plan was nothing short of suicidal, but that was the least of my concerns for somehow everything would come to an end on this day. I walked around the tennis courts trying to find a reason to fight for my life and not just his end. I found none. My grandmother ignored my gaze and asked a regular to escort me out. It didn't hurt as much as it used to. My heart had been shattered in so many peaces that I doubted I even had one left. I wasn't ashamed I went through far worse humiliations in my own home. I saw Fuji approaching me and for once his mask seemed to waver. I guess he pitied me.

"I can go on my own Fuji you don't have to miss practice"

I tried to act like the cheerful girl I once was. I failed miserably. My voice was laced with sadness and hate fear and disgust and regret.

"Stop it " I heard him say though I might be mistaken for his voice was but a whisper. That's when I looked at him. It was the first time I really looked at the tensai. His eyes were wide open for me to see… what? I didn't know what the emotion so clearly mirrored in them was. Probably something that was long dead inside of me.

He grabbed my hand gently and kissed my bandaged fingers. The gesture seemed so out of place for me. I walked out through the school gates heading towards nowhere. I still had plenty of time till nightfall, so I wondered the streets I now knew as my real home. Whenever I could stand no more I ran here and the cold city littered with crooks rapists and murderers seemed far wormer and safer than home.

He was drunk that night, and I knew than this could only end badly. I thought that he would begin hitting me as soon as I would walk through the door, he always did, but tonight he had a different plan. He dragged me to my room and locked us in. I watched in morbid fascination as he dismantled the ceiling light and formed what looked like a butchers hook. He than tied my hands above my head and placed them in said hook so that I was now dangling a few inches above the floor. My wrists hurt from the pressure and the rope cut the flesh like a jagged knife. I was scared. He slowly and meticulously prepared his instruments, a whip a rusted knife a knuckle duster and several ther pieces. I knew them all too well. He ripped my shirt and began. By the third hit I was already out of it. I don't know how long it took for the police to get there, or to brake down the door. The sound of their voices jolted me back to reality enough to see the crazed look in his eyes. I knew than it was over for the both of us. He took the knife and plunged it in my chest. I thought he would do more damage but no. he turned around lit a cigarette and sat on the floor watching my life slip away.

I wish I knew why he did it but it didn't matter, nothing mattered anymore for as I sit here watching my blood form a deep red pool beneath my feet I can feel noting but relief. No fear no regrets nothing... just peace. The voices around me seem to drift further and further away and soon I fall asleep.

Well that's it for now. i'll update pretty soona dnd please tell me what you think about it. is there anything i should change or that you didn't like?