Disclaimer: Don't own. Never will. Sorry.

WARNINGS: Major Language.

'Kay, remember last time when I was discussing my bitch of a ninth grade English teacher?

Where did we leave off, oh that's right.

"Physical, emotional, mental and sexual abuse?"

Oh boy.

Ah, good times.

Anyway, when she said that, I froze with my hand still raised lazily in the air. I could have pulled it down easily, but at this point I really wasn't thinking rationally (have I done that before?). So I kept it up, for some god awful, stupid reason.

"You've got to be shitting me." Is all she said after I kept my hand up.

"What?" I asked stupidly back.

"You've got to be shitting me. I mean what I said, Niou-kun. I don't believe you." She replied, shaking her head slowly.

"Now you're shitting me, bitch." I snarled out of anger spurned by her disbelief, "It did all happen thank you very much."

"This is a new low even for you." She sighed.

"No, I'm used to being treated like shit, but this has got to be the worst. I mean hell, if the doctors are the one's asking me about where all the bruises and lacerations and broken bones came from, I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one who saw the aftereffects.

"You probably did those to yourself." She muttered insincerely as she turned to face the board.

"You want to say that to my face you goddamn bitch." I growled angrily.

"Excuse me? You had better watch your tone young man." She said, starting to get extremely angry now.

"And I think you'd better watch yours." I agreed.

"Go to the Headmaster's office. Now!" She yelled when I didn't move.

I stood up, grabbed my things and left. No, I didn't go to the Headmaster's office. He definitely didn't expect me to actually show up anyway. If I did, I think the old man would have actually had a heart attack.

Instead, I headed towards that park where I'd ended up beaten half to death in the first place.

While I think about it, this is actually where my life got worse. I never would have found out about my CML (chronic myelogenous leukemia) and I wouldn't have been able to start chemo until it actually did kill me. Which reminds me, chemo starts tomorrow.

And I don't want to go.

I know, I know, call me crazy, not wanting to take the one opportunity to save my life. I'm stupid, right?

No, not really.

I just don't know if I really want to prolong this any longer. Looking at my track record, I'm lucky that I made it to be fifteen really. The odds definitely were against me. Maybe I just don't want to push my luck any further than I already have.

I am a trickster and have gotten out of really fucking sticky situations before. Maybe I just already used up all of my luck.

'God, you're pathetic.' I thought to myself, shaking my head to clear the really depressing self-pity session out of it.

I slipped my headphones into my ears and turned my ipod on full blast after fishing it out of my pocket.

'Fucking Perfect' by P!nk came on and I smiled to myself at the irony.

That song was all about how I don't give a shit what you bitches think and all that, but really all the girl wants is to be accepted by someone, by anyone really.

Just like me.

And I fell asleep on the swing, just like that.

Made a wrong turn, once or twice

Dug my way out, blood and fire

Bad decisions, that's alright

Welcome to my silly life

Mistreated, misplaced, misunderstood

Miss, no way it's all good, it didn't slow me down

Mistaken, always second guessing

Underestimated, look, I'm still around

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than, less than perfect

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel

Like you're nothing you are perfect to me

You're so mean when you talk

About yourself, you are wrong

Change the voices in your head

Make them like you instead

So complicated, look how big you'll make it

Filled with so much hatred, such a tired game

It's enough, I've done all I can think of

Chased down all my demons, see you do the same

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than, less than perfect

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel

Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me

The whole world stares while I swallow the fear

The only thing I should be drinking is an ice cold beer

So cool in lying and we tried, tried, tried

But we try too hard, it's a waste of my time

Done looking for the critics 'cause they're everywhere

They don't like my genes, they don't get my hair

Strange ourselves and we do it all the time

Why do we do that? Why do I do that? Why do I do that?

Ooh, pretty, pretty, pretty

Pretty, pretty please, don't you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than, less than perfect

Pretty, pretty please, if you ever, ever feel

Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me

You are perfect to me

You're perfect, you're perfect to me

Pretty, pretty please if you ever, ever feel

Like you're less than, less than perfect

Pretty, pretty please if you ever, ever feel

Like you're nothing, you are perfect to me

I woke up from a nightmare (fucking cancer is chasing me. I could never get away, only run and get caught. Then it snaps my neck and the blood drains from my body and I die).

Wow, even my own damn subconscious was basically telling to hurry up and go fucking die already.

Even I don't like me apparently.

Bet my therapist saw that coming.

(VOCAL THERAPY SESSION: 'COURSE YOU DID DUMBASS! IF YOU DIDN'T I'D WALK THE HELL OUT OF HERE AND NEVER COME BACK)

Excuse the interruption, folks.

Anyway, life's shit, my own body is trying to kill me in one of the slowest most painful ways it knows how, I'm trying to kill me. I guess it all just works out for the better for everyone isn't there.

Everybody's happy.

'Cept me, of course.

But I'll be dead.

Now I wanted to the end the damned diary (and it is a fucking diary, just accept it!) entry there, but the therapist said it had to be longer…

And…I have absolutely no more shit to talk about at the moment.

Nothing's going on with tennis (almost time for the prefec tournament training, but not quite), I'm dying (not new news), school's the same (shitty and boring and I still don't go to half of my classes), and my mates-

My mates.

Now that's a topic that just might be interesting.

Ever since I was diagnosed with cancer and all but fucking forced into accepting the chemo treatment, I had been ordered off of the courts until prefectural tournament training.

So basically, I've barely seen anybody

At all.

Ever.

Huh, and after all that fucking bullshit with their speeches on friendship and how we're all stronger together as one, as a perfectly united team, and how I should trust them all more, they go and abandon me to the wolves.

That'll teach me to trust anything those lying bastards say again.

But I never really did in the first place, did I? I was more forced into it than not. From the beginning, it was 'Niou you're not good enough for singles yet, but if you work hard in doubles you just might improve!'

'Niou, this is your new doubles partner. His name is Yagyuu Hiroshi.'

'It's a pleasure to meet you.'

'Hmmph. How about not?'

'Niou, your serve is too weak!'

'Niou, you're not trying!'

'Niou, hit the damn ball harder!'

'Niou, stop sitting on your ass and go help Yagyuu for once in your goddamn life!'

'Niou. Niou! NIOU!'

God! I'M SO FUCKING SICK OF IT!

I'm sorry, buchou that I'm not some scary ass, sadistic demon who likes to permanently damage people. I'll just make sure the other team lives through the match from doubles.

I should be able to pick my own damn partner, not have someone from the fucking golf club shoved onto my court.

Definitely not a pleasure.

It's not me. That's Yagyuu, struggling to improve.

I am trying. Yagyuu's the one that's waiting in the wings, hoping some random ass ball will come his way.

I can't hit the ball harder! If I do, I'll break my goddamn wrist! But that doesn't matter to you does it?

I'm not the one sitting on my ass, letting my partner take the fall though. Why can't I ever be the one to be trusted? They know by now that we switch our roles, so they should know who's who.

Or maybe they just don't want to.

I knew it.

I always did, but I chose to ignore my instincts and trust the lot of you despite my experience.

You would have always abandoned me.

The only question was when.

Now, I have my answer.

The only time you chose not to stay by my side constantly, was the time I needed you most. I've never needed anyone before, you probably thought, so he'll be fine now.

But what happens when someone so strong gets scared?

Glad to finally tell you to fuck off,

Niou Masaharu

AN: I'm mean aren't I. Poor Niou.

Nothing much to really say here I'm afraid, I hope you enjoyed your third look into the mind of Niou Masaharu. Don't be too afraid to come back for another serving!

Cheers!

Love,

Tainted Fated Demise