Another one of my English class narratives. This was the excersise:

Write a narrative (a short story) about a traumatic experience the persona had. (First person 'I')
It could be true to life or fictional.

My attempt to give a account on what happened to Yukimura before the year Ryoma arrives to Seigaku/Japan.
It's kinda upsetting (which nearly got me killed from my Yukimura fan friend...) so if you're not up to it, I suggest you don't read it...

Disclaimer: I do not own Tenisu no Oujisama or whatever else readers call it nor do I own the charcter which come out during my fic.

The sun gleamed brighter than usual. Winter sun wasn't always so warm, so perfect. Nothing could go wrong. The second tournament of my junior high school career was gone. One left. My third career, I knew, is going to be the best. My dream of taking my team to three consecutive wins of the Junior High Team Tennis National Tournaments was to come.

Spotlight was upon my team, six of them training hard; encouraging each other. I was given no choice but to smile as the team vice captain's voice could be heard now and then, yelling at the remaining of the team who may have missed a shot, or missed a beat in their step.

'Marui, that was an easy shot! Jackal, where are you aiming for!' the hatted boy yelled out to the doubles pair. Beside him, the Mastermind jotted new notes into his data book he always kept with him. The Gentleman beside him merely adjusted his glasses, as his doubles partner laughed a joke at the two on the courts; teasing them.

'Why the heck did you just watch that ball go past you? Are you crazy?' the Brazilian half boy questioned the other, yelling curses at the top of his voice.

'I thought it was an easy enough shot for you. Not my fault you missed,' blowing a bubble with his green apple gum, the red headed volleyer walked away; as if nothing had happened.

'Uh…I kinda do believe Jackal Sempai that it was your fault Marui Sempai…' the wavy haired second grade rookie reluctantly approached his sempai, an address used to an older apprentice.

'Akaya is right Bunta; you could have easily hit that shot. Just because you know that you would misaim the shot by 78 does not mean that…' the Mastermind continued to lecture the shorted red headed boy with his logical ways lagged on about percentages and training methods Bunta could use to gain better ball control at the certain receive position.

'Yanagi-kun, I think it's about time that you could give Marui-kun a break,' having heard the foreign-languaged lecture, the Gentleman came to the help of the Volley Specialist. Looking at Hiroshi with sparkling eyes, Bunta then changed his focus on Renji; sick of his lecture, science had never been his best subject. Renji sighed and looked away.

'Yagyu got you there Yanagi,' as always, finding the scene funny, the silver haired boy smiled at the taller black haired boy, eyes innocent as if to say he had nothing to do with the scene. Masaharu was just present merely to enjoy the scene.

'Even if Renji stops lecturing does NOT mean that you will get away with it Marui,' Bunta's face sank as Sanada stood in front of him, eyes peering from under the black hat.

'If you disagree,' Sanada added as Bunta opened his mouth to argue, 'you can discuss the issue with our captain.'

Obviously not realising that I had been present at the scene, five pairs of eyes suddenly flew towards me; all eyes but those of Sanada and Renji, who had watched me approach the side of the courts.

'Uh…you're back...right…' eyeing me for a brief second, Bunta quickly looked away; he knew his consequences. Renji was strict about his cause, and Sanada was bad enough, but they all knew that I would be the worst. After all, I was the captain of the Rikkai Dai Junior High School Tennis Squad. Together with Sanada and Renji, we had been in the regulars since first grade; together, the three of us had led Rikkai Dai to the highest position in junior high tennis world history – Victory. We would do anything for the third; no doubt the others too were eager to reach the top for their first and second times.

'How are you feeling Yukimura-kun?' Yagyu came towards me with a concerned expression on his face. The bespectacled boy peered into my face as he approached.

'Its OK Hiroshi, I just felt dizzy. I must have dehydrated or something,' stating the truth, I answered the honey haired gentleman, being careful to pick my words so I did not alarm him.

----

My downfall started with a simple flu, which had triggered a respiratory infection. I had been forced to stay skip school for a day and miss practices with my team for three (practices occurred during weekends as well). I wasn't happy, but Renji somehow had persuaded me to do so with his logical ways.

A few days since my full recovery of my flu, I had collapsed in the middle of a soccer match in PE. First it was a sudden blurred vision, soon followed by dizziness. That did not bring on my collapse, but what had was a sudden sharp pain in my legs. The pain quickly ceased, but replaced by weakness in my legs and numbness. I couldn't feel my legs at all. Sanada, who was in my class, soon rushed to my side and carried my numb body to the sick bay; it was quite a sight to see the usually expressionless face change in concern and alarm.

A week since my recover of the flu, I was training with the team, swinging strokes and returning strong driving shots with technique and accuracy. Training even after daily practices at school, my stamina was not so easily outrun, but breathing was suddenly hard. The first one to notice was Masaharu who had been on the other sides of the courts returning my shots. I refused his offer to rest and the same pain in my legs returned, this time reaching as high as my knees; previously it had only been up to the calf muscles.

As the week progressed, this pain continued to find its way up me; from my knees to my thighs, to my abdomen, to my waist to my chest. I was also beginning to notice that it was getting more frequent. The first sign was always difficulty in gaining breath, which was son followed by blurred vision and dizziness. Finally, the pain and numbness.

I hid from the team mates; especially Sanada. He was the most likely to respond, and it was not going to be pleasant either. I knew his determination on setting his hands on the winning trophy along side me and the team, but I was not foolish enough to know that he would be more concerned about me than a tournament, even if it meant the world for him; and it did.

The symptoms of something I did not know came while I was alone; I had made sure that it happened when I was alone. The good thing was – I never lost consciousness.

----

It was surely a magnificent day. The sun was out against a bright blue sky, not a cloud could be seen – perfect. I looked above me head to watch and observe what loved like a pair of love birds, flying in the distance.

It had been a week and a half since my flu, and the symptoms, which usually came at this time at the courts, did not appear to occur.

'How about a match Yukimura Buchou,' Akaya requested a suggestion I could not resist. It was rare that Akaya called me 'Buchou' and not 'Sempai'. Merely meaning 'captain', Akaya avoided calling me so; I did not know why.

It was Akaya's service and he proved to have improved. His still maturing body serving four perfect serves at the corner of the receiving box, but I would not go easy on him just for that sake. As captain it was my job to keep the reputation, as well as teaching Akaya who was at the top.

Breaking Akaya's service point with ease, I gripped my racket and held the ball at the right height, ready for the serve. Knowing I could win the point without having to put too much effort into the serve, I hit a relatively easy serve for the second grade rookie to return.

Akaya, I had known, returned my effortless serve at ease. A nice return, I thought, as Akaya cornered the ball deep onto my side the courts in a difficult position to return, normally, but not for me.

'Too easy Akaya,' I mumbled to him, smiling, as I positioned myself for returning of the shot. An easy backhand to the net; a simple drop volley. Perhaps even a copy of one I had seen one of my strongest rivals feed the front of the courts.

I stood ready as the ball came, and swung back in rhythm. It then when I swung my racket back that it happened.

The moving ball suddenly turned into two, then four, then eight; slowly multiplying. Focusing my vision, I saw but a blur of yellow-green flying towards me. As I swung for the ball, I knew something was wrong. The contact of my racket and my arm felt weak; the force of the ball overpowered the strength of my arms.

'Yukimura!' before I knew it, my racket flew out of my arms as pain, sharper than I had even known could exist, flowed through the whole of my body. The team came rushing towards me as fast as they could as I fell, hearing the echo of Sanada's voice calling my name.

I was in agony. It all came at once – weak, paralysed muscles, numbness but with pain, blurred visions, dizziness, the difficulty in breathing. I couldn't move. I had no control of my body, except for the occasional uncoordinated jerks of my limbs.

----

----

I woke up the next day to see that I was in a white room; bright with the Sun's rays reflecting from the walls. By the smell of what seemed like the world's strangest potions, I guessed that I was in a hospital. I looked around to see that I was in a room by myself.

Glancing outside the window on my right, a knock came from the door. Quietly, the door opened as I heard footsteps to tell me that a group of people had entered the room.

'Yukimura, how are you feeling?' being in a hospital, a hatless Sanada asked me, sounding a little reluctant very unlike his usual self.

'Fine,' smiling at his stern, but slightly concerned expression, I answered. But inside, I knew I was not. My thoughts were backed up by the look of Hiroshi's face.

'Guillain-Barre syndrome,' Renji stated from behind one very concerned Akaya, already by my side, and a white faced Bunta who was, surprisingly, not chewing on anything for once. Taking my eyes off the unusual pair, I tilted my head to one side; questioning Renji.

'Yukimura-kun, you appear to be showing similar symptoms to what is known to be called Guillain-Barre syndrome. This is an autoimmune condition, in which the nerves are attacked by the immune system. The exact cause of Guillain-Barre is unknown,' adjusting the position of his glasses, Hiroshi told what he knew.

'As a result of the attack, the nerve is damaged and signals are delayed or changed, causing a spreading paralysis, which I believe you have already experienced in this last few weeks…'

'Is there a cure?' even thought I knew it was important, I butted in, and I had the urge to ask this question. At the moment, I did not care about what the disease was, or what causes it.

'Guillain-Barre is a rare illness striking from two to eight people in every 100,000 irrespective of gender or age. Though most people spontaneously recover, some with permanent disabilities, there is no cure known. But there is treatment, which can take up to two years or more to fully recover.'

I had enough. During that very short match with Akaya, I knew something was wrong. My limbs paralysed and I could not return an easy shot; my arms too weak to hold the racket and legs too weak to hold me upright.

When that ball crashed my racket out of my hands, I knew it was over. My tennis career was over and I was not even 15. Tennis was my life; I had learnt it since the age of five, and had clearly natural talents for the sport. I went to a school which had tennis related teams since primary, and even had a dream to go professional one day.

Without me realising, the room had gone silent. The team knew I was not up to this. They knew my will to win that trophy third time round. No one knew when I would fully recover. Maybe in a week's time, or perhaps in two years or what if…what if I never recover...? Even if it was in one or two years time, by then, I would be in senior high; my wish never to be even near to accomplishment.

Subconsciously, my eyes swam around the white room. In this colourless, bright, yet dull room of nothingness had swallowed me whole. I didn't feel alive anymore. I felt as if I was nothing but a mere object within this blank room, also white like the walls – blending in with the walls trapping me into this room of torture, this room of white, cold fiery hell.

Hmm... I thought this before too, but this fic isn't exactly traumatic is it...?
It's dramatic, no doubt about it, but no traumatic...

To make the story flow, I even had to look up Guillain-Barre syndrome... So annoying...
Anyways, I hope I helped anyone who was wondering to know some details about Yukimura and his disease! Without making anyone depressed any the way that is...

Well, please R&R! Like I said in my previous fic, I'll accept all comments including negative ones as long it has something to do with my fic... I'll use it as a refrerence for future use!

Thanx! Sakura