I'm back with another chapter. Why? because, I really wanted to write this. :P

Warnings: Atobe OOCness, angst.

Don't own Prince of Tennis

And no, this is not true, in case you didn't know. (as if)

"He's passed away Atobe."
Oshitari's voice was getting soft.

"W-what?" Atobe stuttered.

"He died, Jirou died."

"I don't believe it."

"Ato-"

"No, you're lying," Atobe said, not caring if he was interrupting his friends sentence, "You're lying, you're lying, you're lying!"

"It's-"

"Shut up! I don't want to hear you talk!" Atobe shouted, into the phone, and he threw it down, breaking it. He didn't even care that his eyes started to water and the tears started to fall. He couldn't stop them from falling. They kept coming out, pouring down his face.

His heart was throbbing in pain, and it wouldn't go away. It was hurting so much he could hardly stand it. He clutched his chest, hoping it would stop. He was silently crying, sobbing would make it worse.

Why did he die?

Why did he go?

Atobe tried to wipe his tears away, but they just formed again in his eyes.

Why won't these tears just stop falling?!

Angry and confused at that moment, Atobe picked up the broken phone and thrashed it to the ground again, he threw his books lying on the table out the window, shattering it, got out his tennis racket and forced it to the mirror practically destroying it. He trashed everything he was able to pick up. By the time he was done, his room was filled with glass pieces ripped paper and a bunch of debris.

And that's how Oshitari found him when he had come over to see how he was doing.

----T o T------

The funeral was two days after Atobe had found out. Many people attended, Jirou was a nice boy, everyone living on the same street as him liked him, his teammates, his parents, and of course Atobe. No one hated him at least.

Atobe stood in the back with his head down, his face hidden behind his hair. Some of his cuts and bruises could be seen on his face. If you were able to see his face, it'd be horrible. Along with his cuts and bruises, his eyes were reddish from crying and he looked he was about to cry again. It was not a pretty sight.

If weren't a funeral for Jirou, Mukahi would laugh.

Jirou's mom was the one speaking. She was sobbing her words out but no one dared to stop her from talking because she'd just cry even more. She was talking about Jirou and how good of a child he was. He never caused any trouble, he never talked back (teenagers, yanno), he was always smiling...when he wasn't sleeping. She went on saying that she wished Jirou were here. Then the question that everyone was wondering came up.

"I...don't even know... why he died... he wasn't sick ...or anything.." She choked through her sobs.

Atobe wasn't really listening at the time, just dwelling in his own thoughts about Jirou but then when she said that, he took his mind off of his thoughts.

"The doctor.. didn't know...the reason either..."
What? Atobe thought. Come to think of it, he didn't know either. He never even thought about that until now? Why did he? Atobe sat down in one of the benches, in deep thought. Footsteps came slowly and stopped right in front of him. "Atobe."

Atobe looked up to the speaker, it was Oshitari.

"What Oshitari? I'm trying to figure out what happened to him... leave me alone." Then went back to his thinking.

When Atobe didn't hear any sounds of steps moving away, he looked at Oshitari again, "I said," and he stopped. Oshitari looked back Atobe. They were like that for a few moments. Then Atobe realized what Oshitari was going to say. He knew. He knew why Jirou died. With just one look from Atobe's famous Insight, he could tell that Oshitari
knew.

"Tell me, tell me why!" Everyone stared at the two. Jirou's mom stopped talking, silence filled the room. Oshitari shook his head, with his hand over his forehead "let's go outside, you probably wouldn't be happy with the answer I give you."

---

It was raining as he stared down from the building from the roof. Cars were busily passing by, people were also. He faced upwards, closing his eyes, letting the rain soak in his clothing, and pour down his face, mixing along with his tears. Why? Why does it have to be like this? He chuckled bitterly. "Why?" was the question he'd been asking all this time, and it had finally been given to him.

-T o T-

"Tell me Oshitari!"

"Atobe, I really can't believe you don't know, with your Insight, I was sure you would realize right away, but you haven't, I guess I was wrong."

"Wrong? What is 'wrong?' "

"What's wrong? You're asking me what's wrong? One of my friends died and you are asking me WHAT'S WRONG?"

Atobe didn't say anything back.

"Atobe, he died because of you," he said, barely above a whisper, "It's your fault he died."

-T o T-

Why? Atobe got his answer. It's his fault, everything is his fault. Jirou did nothing wrong but he was the one who paid the price. He left a note to Oshitari but it didn't matter. Nothing seemed mattered anymore. He didn't care about anything anymore. Just Jirou. Only Jirou.

I'm coming.

I'm coming , so wait for me.

He fell and that was it.

T o T...