I just started a new fic called Black, White, and Everything in Between. It's different from this fic but if you like this one, I greatly encourage for you to go check it out! I also updated my oldest fic (it's being rewritten), Finding Luck.

It has recently come to my attention that people are assuming Jade is on the Rikkaidai tennis team. To put this simply,she is not, nor will she ever be. She is merely practicing with them because of her coach's orders. I highly doubt that Yukimura or Sanada would willingly let a girl on to the boy's tennis team.

That was just for clarification, otherwise the whole Rikkaidai tennis team would be OOC. Shishido still hasn't gotten kicked off the tennis team, and his character is developed after he beats Taki. Matter of fact, the only person I would consider OOC would be Atobe, and I've shown how that is only around Jade and no one else. Keeping everyone in character is a must for me!

I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please read, review, and favorite! I deeply apologize for the wait.

Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis.

Klysen

The orangish-pink rays had turned to a clear, light blue as we had zipped along the city landscape for the past two hours. We had hit traffic, causing us to be significantly slowed down and Coach Suzuki made up the time by saying lame puns and talking about his experiences at the Olympics.

My favorite one had to be when a friend dared him to steal the breakfast trays of two Australian women. Little did he know at the time that Australian women were terrifying. They had quickly demonstrated their ferocity, along with the rest of their rowing team, as they had chased him around the Olympic village for almost an hour, brandishing their oars and yelling. In the end, he was caught-he was a swimmer after all, and swimmers cannot run-and tied upside down to the Australian flagpole.

I had laughed so hard that my sides hurt and tears leaked out of my eyes. Coach had laughed along with me, but warned it was only funny because it had been several years since the ordeal occurred. He said that if he saw any of those women again, he would run for his life.

"What exactly are we doing at Seigaku?" I interrupted Coach Suzuki right before he was going to spit out another pun.

"You're the only swimmer from our school, so we have to bend a few rules," he muses as we coast to another stop because of traffic. "There is supposed to be a limited amount of events that you can swim, but since there is only you, we're going to see if you can swim more."

His words make me freeze, "Don't tell me you are going to try to get me to swim almost every event."

An evil grin unfurls across his face and I nearly shriek.

"You have got to be kidding me!" I exclaim, hands curled into fists. "There has to be at least twenty events."

He rolls his eyes, "Calm down. It's school swimming, so there aren't that many." He then adds hastily, "I think. Besides, if you did no, there may be a chance that you could not move on. The rules have changed in the last few years so I have to go review them to make sure."

I growl, kicking my swim bag and cursing my luck. I would die from exhaustion on Friday and Saturday if the rules were bent.

"You hungry?" Coach disrupts my thoughts of fainting during a race. "We are almost there, but we can stop for some food."

"I am a swimmer," I smile. "I'm always hungry."

"Finally," he laughs. "Someone who understands."

It is well known that swimmers are always hungry, mostly because we burn so many calories. However, this is only one of the main characterizations of swimmers. There are really six types of swimmers. Sure, swimmers are split up into what kinds of events and distances we dominate at, but at heart there are six types regardless of distances and events.

First, there is Swimmer One. Swimmer One concentrates solely on swimming and avoids social contact because it distracts from the sport. Swimmer One is idealistic and puts forth the maximum effort with minimum noise. It was difficult to be Swimmer One, as he or she would be condemned to being lonely during practice. Swimmer One would be most like Sanada in tennis, who commanded respect but barely talked.

Second, there is Swimmer Two, who is the exact opposite of Swimmer One. Swimmer Two focuses mainly on the social aspect of swimming as swimming is practiced with multiple people. After being doused by the chlorinated water, it was natural to feel a kinship to the people who you practiced with. Swimmer Two exploits this feeling to the maximum, preferring to talk during kick sets and crack jokes.

Third, there is Swimmer Three. Swimmer Three is just at practice, and is not sure why. He or she has no ambitions, and is often new to the sport or deadened by it, which is quite common because swimming is a repetitive sport. The same stroke is done thousands of time during one practice and there were times that I felt like a broken record, repeating the movement and bored out of my mind.

Swimmer Four is the one that has the least results. The "my parents make me swim" excuse leads these swimmers to want to leave during the middle of practice and never come back. They don't take practice seriously and hate the sport usually.

Swimmer Five is one of the main types of swimmers. Whether they admit it or not, all swimmers are partially like Swimmer Five. Swimmer Five swims so he or she can eat whatever they want, which I have to admit is the best part of swimming. We burn so many calories that we are infamous for being able to eat anything and still be healthy. Coach Suzuki and I definitely belonged at least partially to this group.

Swimmer Six is the funniest type of swimmer, as they seem to be eternally confused during practice and meets. Surprisingly, they probably have the highest success rate. The "wait…what?" characterization of Swimmer Six leads them to look like they are flailing around during practice even though somehow get through and drop time (decrease the amount of time during a swim event) consistently.

So, while we eat constantly, this is only part of the six main characterizations of swimmers. However, it's probably the most prominent one as most swimmers only have the mind for swimming, food, and sleep.

Coach Suzuki turns in front of a small fast-food building and I peek out, instantly recognizing the familiar yellow 'M' that was known almost all over the globe.

"McDonalds? Really?" I smirk, amused.

He shrugs. "Fast food craving."

I tear into the sausage and egg sandwiched between the English muffin, agreeing that it was smart for only Coach Suzuki to go in and get the food. I didn't need the recognition, because I was absolutely sure that a few tabloids had gotten hold of my presence last night at the Atobe mansion and reported it already.

"This is so good," I moan as I nearly burn my tongue.

"I know," Coach Suzuki groans before taking another bite.

If anyone had looked into the car, he or she would have seen two people greedily stuffing their faces. Thank goodness for tinted windows.

Coach Suzuki gets back on to the road, driving along for a few minutes before turning in front of a large school spanning several acres, around the size of Rikkaidai.

"We are here," he announces.

"Yeah, I kind of got that," I reply sarcastically.

He swats at me, "Watch the sass, or I'll increase the amount of breaststroke in your next practice."

I stick my tongue out at him before we both get out of the car. I sling my bag on to my back before bouncing out of the car. The wind whipped around me, scattering a few late cherry blossoms to the ground.

Something about the school made me feel like I was fated to be here today.

I follow Coach Suzuki through the main entrance and through several hallways. He slides open the door to one classroom and stands in the doorway as I try to peer over his shoulder. I could only catch the view of a few students before he moved forward and I lost balance, falling forward and straight on to my face.

"Ow," I groan as Coach turns to shoot me an apologetic grin. A few students laugh at my blunder.

"You are late," a woman's voice rings out. "You were supposed to be here an hour ago."

"We hit traffic," Coach explains.

I get up slowly, nursing my chin.

"Ah, is this her?" The woman was relatively young, possibly in her early-thirties. Her kind demeanor clashed with her intimidating height. There was something behind her gentle smile that hinted at a caustic personality.

"Yeah, she's not much to look at and she's extremely clumsy-"

"Hey!" I protest.

The woman laughs before turning to her class, "I am sorry class; there is some urgent business that I must take care of. In my absence, this young woman shall instruct you. She is fluent in English." She pats my shoulder before following Coach Dan into the hallway.

In an instance, I turned into Swimmer Six.

"Wait, what?"

The two adults calmly stepped out of the room and I wanted to scream and tear after them, except the stares of the students held me in place. My anxiety of crowds returned, smashing me into a statue and I willed myself to move.

"This is English class, right?" I squeaked, setting my bag down.

"Yes, obviously," one snarkily replied in halted English. Her voluminous pink hair was offset by heavy makeup, making her almost look like a raccoon that fell into a vat of dye.

"Well, okay," I murmured to myself. Suddenly, the memory of a logic puzzle flashed through my head Turning around, I picked up a piece of chalk and drew a long horizontal skinny rectangle with four boxes. Then, I drew a large vertical rectangle with six boxes bisected by the horizontal rectangle, so both rectangles shared two inner boxes.

"This is a logic puzzle," I announced in the familiar tongue. "Use the numbers one through eight, but none of the following numbers may touch each other. They must not be side-by-side, on top of one another, or even diagonal from one another. For example, the number four cannot be next to either five or three. Seven cannot be next to eight or six. Go ahead and solve on a piece of paper."

The students tore out pieces of paper to solve the puzzle and I breathed out, my shoulders feeling lighter now that they were not staring at me. At least none asked what the puzzle had to do with English, because it had nothing to do with English at all.

"Done," a guy with spiky hair and thick glasses announces. I stroll over and muse at his paper.

"Two and three are next to each other," I point.

"This, this is illogical," he shakes, staring at the paper.

Next to him, a person with honey-colored hair raises his hand. "I am finished."

His puzzle was perfect. "Correct." I smile. "Would you please come up to the board and demonstrate your thinking and the answer?"

He stands and brushes past me. His eyes were screwed shut. How in the world was he walking in a straight line and not bumping into anything?

Oh wait, Yanagi does the same thing.

I nearly snort to myself as the honey-colored teenager writes the numbers on the boxes on the board, explaining in perfect English, albeit with a slight accent.

"A round of applause for…" I pause, realizing I didn't know his name.

"Fuji. Fuji Syusuke," he completes as he sits back down.

"A round of applause for Fuji Syusuke," I nod.

I put my hands together and most of the students follow while one redhead with a bandage on his cheek whines, "Mou, Fujiko!"

"Now, a lot of you must be wondering what this has to do with English," I smile uneasily, balancing against the teacher's desk. My mind runs to make up a random connection. "Figuring out English is a lot like a puzzle. There are several rules that are broke several times in the language. Because the language has incorporated elements from several other languages, it is quite difficult."

The door to the classroom slides open and I breathe in relief. "I am sorry for putting you on the spot," the woman smiles. "Thank you for taking over temporarily Klysen-san."

A gasp makes me turn. The pink-haired girl is pointing at me, "You are that Klysen girl?" she shrieks in Japanese. I wince, wanting to cover my ears. "She is the one I have to swim against, Yoshida-sensei?"

The woman shoots her a stern look before turning to me, "Please join us during practice later. I will make my decision then. Practice will begin within the hour, as our normal school schedule has been changed for today due to a few athletic teams prepping for tournaments this weekend."

I bob my head, "Thank you," before following Coach Suzuki out the door.

I pull up the straps of the swimsuit with practiced ease, and cover myself with my captain's jacket and sweatpants before stepping out of the locker room.

Coach Suzuki sighs, "The coach here seems nice, and she is, but she only bends the rules for a select few. The team here is one of the best in the country, so she's probably going to race you against her own swimmers."

"What are their best events?" I get straight to the point, mentally prepping myself.

He grimaces, wrinkling his nose, "Distance events and breaststroke."

"Damn it," I curse. My worst events. I did not have the stamina for distance events and I looked like a flailing fish out of water, no pun intended, doing breaststroke.

"Yeah," he agrees. "But we've been training mid-distance for the last week, so you should be okay."

I groan, "Are any of them sprinters? Like the 50 or 100 meters?"

"Just two. The captain and vice-captain, I think."

"Size of the pool?"

"Fifty meters. Olympic-sized."

I wish there was an Olympic-sized pool at Rikkaidai. But nope, I got the small little pool that literally no one used. Literally no one, except for me.

"Just give it your best," Coach Suzuki sighs again. "If you were at your top condition, this would be easy. But you're not even close."

I shrug. "Nothing I can do now."

"Yeah, I will meet you at the pool in half an hour; she wants you to come in the middle of practice. I will go and try to convince Yoshida again. Meanwhile, don't get hurt and don't get in to trouble," he instructs, teasingly.

I send him a sheepish look, not able to protest because I had fallen over earlier inside a Seigaku classroom.

He strolls away and I march in the opposite direction, wanting to explore the campus. The large campus is adorned with a few trees here and there and great athletic facilities. I meander past the tennis courts and turn, wondering if I would see a familiar face. A few of the people that had been in the English classroom were there, bouncing balls and hitting to one another: I believe it was Fuji, that guy with spiky hair and thick glasses, and the redhead with plaster on his cheek. I scan the tennis courts, seeing a bunch of tall people and a few short first years. One of the first years was wearing a regulars jersey and bouncing a tennis ball in his hand before serving it.

The ball bounced irregularly.

I knew that serve.

"Ryoma?" I whisper, and then speak a little louder. "Ryo-chan?"

Unbelievable. That cocky guy was here in Tokyo.

He glances up at the nickname and looks across the courts, before his racket clatters to the ground as he releases it, shocked.

"Ochibi?"

"Echizen?"

The tennis players call to him as he walks across the courts, ignoring everyone.

"You're supposed to be dead," he murmurs, visibly shaken. He seemed completely different, yet exactly the same as he had been years ago. At least now he didn't try to drag that darn cat to school with him.

"Am I?" I smile.

"You're supposed to be dead," he repeats. "Jade, I thought you were dead."

I shrug. "I'm not. Disappointed?"

"Who is this?" the redhead from earlier cries before wrapping his arms around Ryoma. "Ochibi! You didn't say you had a girlfriend!"

"Ah, young love!" another guy with violet eyes nods enthusiastically.

I snort, "Not his girlfriend. Give me a call sometime, will you Ryoma? I haven't seen you and your dad in forever."

He nods absentmindedly, "Where is Jasper?"

He always had a one-track mind. He always wants to play Jasper, and has yet to beat my brother. "Still in the US. College."

He nods again before I walk off. It seems like I really was fated to be at Seigaku today. Memories of us as kids fly through my head. Ryoma used to love piggyback rides from my brother and we used to play tennis together all the time since his dad taught my brother how to play. When Ryoga left, Ryoma got a lot quieter, but we still had great memories together until my brother entered high school.

"Echizen! Twenty laps!" echoes behind me. I giggle to myself, realizing whoever gave the laps, probably the captain, was a lot like Sanada. Poor Ryo-chan.

I blink, unsure if I was really seeing what I thought I was.

Nope, the seaweed-head was still there, leaning against the wall, emerald eyes looking at his cellphone as he tapped away.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, still feeling as if I was dreaming.

Akaya looks back at me, incredulous and eyes gleaming. "I could say the same to you."

"I'm supposed to be here," I tuck my hands into my pockets. "I had to go talk to the swim coach here because she handles swim meets for the region."

"I fell asleep on the bus," Akaya shrugs sheepishly. "It's a shame," he tucks his hands behind his head. "We had a practice game today."

"I didn't know about the practice game," I frown. I wouldn't have brought my tennis racket if I knew there was a practice game later. I was not actually on the team, so I would not play.

"Sanada doesn't tell you anything, does he?"

I shake my head before pushing my phone towards the second year, "Did you at least call Yanagi or Sanada?"

"Yeah," he pushes it back. "I'm just waiting for the next bus. It should be here in a few minutes. I might make it back in time for the match."

"You better have not caused trouble for the Seigaku tennis team," I warn.

He shrugs again, grinning, "Oops?"

I roll my eyes before waving, "Gotta go. Swim practice. I might come watch the match if I get back in time."

He nods before waving back and returning to tapping away at his phone.

I shake my head, wondering what other crazy things would happen today. I had seen a childhood friend that I hadn't seen in years and Akaya somehow ends up at Seigaku. I had walked all over the school grounds, wandering and wasting half an hour by exploring. I could smell the pool, but I had no idea where it was. The perfume of chlorine swirls around me as I turned around the corner of the building, bringing the wide blue expanse to my view. I pull off my clothes as I step on to the poolside covered by mats. Pushing the discarded jacket into my bag, I extract my cap and goggles and push my hair into the rubber covering and put the goggles on with a snap of the straps.

"Ah, Klysen-san."

I turn to see Yoshida-sensei, smiling and sitting on a chair.

"You will be just be racing the 100 butterfly, 100 breaststroke, and an event of your choice. If you beat my swimmers in two of the three events, I will bend the rules of individual swimmers for you and Rikkaidai."

I nod, acknowledging her before diving into the cool water, intending to warm up. The cold water rushes by my body and bubbles erupt at my point of entrance while I push off the bottom of the pool, easing into a steady freestyle. My head clears of the remnants of the anxiety from the English classroom and the pink-haired girl as I gently kick and flip at the other side of the pool. The water felt light and airy, unlike the dense feel of the Rikkaidai pool where every stroke met with resistance. I felt amazing today, which is probably because of all the rest I had over the weekend.

I pick my head out of the water and clutch at the pool wall, ignoring a kick I got from a Seigaku swimmer. Her toenails slice at my legs and I could feel them break skin;I turn slightly and recognize her out of the corner of my eye.

It was that pink-haired girl again.

"I don't care who you are, but I'll beat you in the 100 breaststroke," she hisses. "I'm vice-captain, and I know I am good."

"You're going to die in the 100 butterfly," another one says, behind me. "I went to nationals and ranked in that event."

I turn to see an extremely muscular girl with steely eyes and jet-black wisps of hair escaping from her swim cap and I gulp. Her shoulders were built for butterfly, whereas mine were nearly falling apart during every Rikkaidai tennis practice. Butterfly was one of my better strokes, but I hadn't trained for this.

I lift myself out of the pool, letting the water pool at my feet. Drops roll down my arms and legs as I step on to the diving blocks.

"This is the 100 butterfly," Yoshida-sensei announces, whistle in her mouth. "Take your mark..."

I turn my head slightly to see Coach Suzuki watching me, completely focused. He gives a small nod as I bend down, getting into position for the dive.

A shrill whistle pierces through my head as I let myself fly over the water, my body following my arms as it creates a hole in the surface of the water. I kick quickly under the surface, knowing that this event would rely on my legs because my shoulders were still sore and had been under significant training lately. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that extremely muscular girl rise to the surface and begin her stroke. I hold out, rising a few meters later, a bit ahead. I break the surface with my fingertips before I push my arms back and swing around again to the streamline position, all the while kicking in a steady rhythm.

Reach, and press. Reach, and press. My arms reached far ahead of me and then I pressed my palms back, shooting me through the water. The mantra repeated in my head as I kicked along to the mantra, neck-and-neck with the muscular girl as we raced. My breaths grew deeper and more desperate as I could feel the ache in my shoulders. I extended my hands to the wall, completing fifty meters before turning halfway and pushing off, racing underneath the surface. We were still matched evenly as she rose to the surface and she suddenly started kicking harder, edging ahead.

Damn it. She had been saving her energy.

I pull the water back as I rise to the surface too, kicking hard and cutting through the water, keeping my head down to be more streamline. We were almost evenly matched again...if I could just pull ahead a little more.

The yellow buoy for the fifteen meter mark sped by as I lifted my head up to breathe, lungs depraved of the oxygen they craved. My shoulders were at the point of giving out and pulled harder, bringing us back to even again.

The five meter mark felt like a welcome mat to my arms, saying "just a little farther!"

Suddenly, water enters my mouth as I breathe in and I cough and sputter, trying to dispel it from my windpipe as I try to finish as I slow down significantly; trying to survive was a little more important. I glance up to see the Seigaku team cheering as I finish, hands slamming against the wall.

"1:01.32," Yoshida-sensei announces, smile curling across her face. For the first time, her kind voice reflected satisfaction in my downfall and I gasped, trying to catch my breathe and trying to wrap my head around the idea that I lost in butterfly.

I almost never lost in butterfly. Breaststroke sure, but not butterfly. I had been counting on winning the butterfly and the choice event, so I wouldn't have to worry about the 100 meter breaststroke. I breathe in deeply, trying to calm my lungs.

"Come on," Yoshida-sensei encourages me to get out of the pool as my lungs heave. "You have to do 100 breaststroke now."

Was she nuts? I did not even have the opportunity to cool my muscles down and work off the lactic acid.

Apparently she was crazy, as she motioned for me to get out of the pool. I pull myself out and I massage my shoulders, pushing down on the pressure point to help my deltoids relax. I jump on to the block, not wanting to look at Coach Suzuki's face after losing in the 100 meter butterfly. Instead, I glance at the sneering face of the pink-haired girl who strapped her goggles to her eyes.

"Take your mark..."

I lean down, gripping the edge of the diving block, legs bent and ready to propel my body through the air.

The sharp whistle next to my ear makes me grimace as I push off. My body slices through the air and into the water and I pull my arms back from the streamline position. I quickly surface, spinning my legs in circles, realizing I was swimming for my life.

If I lost, this was the end for the sole swimmer of Rikkaidai.

I gasp for air with every stroke, hands pulling water back and then shooting forward to repeat the motion as my legs led my body into a glide. I reach my arms out towards the opposing wall, gasping as I pulled myself up and into the opposite direction with the turn. I was barely ahead of the pink-haired girl and her spite made me push myself faster. I kept my head in between my arms during each streamline, trying to have the least amount of drag on my body as possible.

Oh please. Oh please. Oh please. I had to win this. There were no ifs or buts about it. I just had to.

With every stroke, I shoot forward, gliding through the water. This had to be my fastest breaststroke yet. I streak past the flags marking the five meters to the wall, not even paying attention to the pink-haired girl. She wasn't in my line of view, even though she had been swimming next to me. That had to mean I was ahead. That had to.

I reach for the wall, slamming my hands as I finish and I expel carbon dioxide, lungs greedily sucking from the surrounding air. I grasp the wall, barely holding on as I lift my head up, just in time to watch the pink-haired girl finish at the wall and wail, realizing she lost. I didn't even hear my time from Yoshida-sensei. I didn't care.

All that mattered is that I won.

I glance at Coach Suzuki and I see a man beaming, leaning against the flagpole. He nodded and gave me a thumbs-up. I grinned back, closing my eyes, feeling at peace.

Marui

I hold my hand up to my face, creating a partial shade while blowing a gum bubble. Where in the world are Akaya and Klysen?

As if he could read my mind, and sometimes I suspect he can, Yanagi chimes, "Akaya is at Seigaku and is taking the bus over here as we speak. Klysen is also at Seigaku, but I am not sure why. It is very likely that Akaya will not make it because he will oversleep."

Sanada ignores the sentence about Klysen and grunts, "We need Akaya. They have nine total players and we have only eight with Yukimura and..." he suddenly chokes over his words, not wanting to finish.

I am sure we all finished it in our heads though. And Yukimura isn't here.

Sure, we were optimistic and he was probably going to get better soon, but that did not change the fact that our captain is in the hospital and won't tell us why. He was the one who set up these matches with Shiraishi a few weeks ago, right before school started. We had been excused early from class, even though the opposing team would arrive when club activities normally start. That gave a good amount of time before the practice match.

I push the thoughts away as we wait for the yellow and green clad tennis players, who should be at Rikkaidai in an hour.

"Sanada, we are going to need Klysen to play," Yanagi adds quietly. "In these practice games, we have to play all five matches."

"No," he refuses. "She is not on the team. We can use a non-regular player."

Yagyuu pushes up his glasses, "From what I hear, we do not have much of a choice."

"She's not even here though," I interject.

Niou joins the huddle. "Clean-up duty," he explains before Sanada can yell at him to run laps.

"If we can make Yagyuu and Klysen the doubles one pair, and Marui and Jackal doubles two, and run the lineup as if we are at nationals, that should buy her enough time to be here. That should get her at least two hours, if not more," Yanagi's mind races, calculating the odds. "That would make you, Sanada, singles one, me singles two, and Niou singles three."

Sanada hesitates, thinking, "Is there any other way?"

Yanagi shakes his head slowly, "That's the best way, because Akaya most likely will not be here. And from what I can see, Klysen has enough tennis background to where she can beat the non-regulars, even if she can't beat any of us when we play seriously."

"We better hope that she comes back to the school then," Jackal voices our thoughts aloud.

We are Rikkaidai. We cannot lose because of a lack of players.

Klysen

"My last event will be the 50 free," I pant, tired from the race.

Yoshida-sensei's nice act drops as she sniffs, "Fine. You're up Yagami," she calls, irritated.

A girl with green eyes smirks at me before lightly hopping on to the block. Her slight build seemed completely opposite of a normal swimmer's broad shoulders. Theoretically, she should have been a breaststroker. They are usually very skinny and lightly built.

"Take your mark..."

I drop forward as confidence flashes through me. This was my event. No one could take this away from me.

The whistle cuts through my optimistic thoughts and I throw myself forward, entering the water and kicking furiously, trying to propel myself. I break through the surface of the water and I moved my legs, pushing forward while pulling water behind me as I slid my arms above the surface of the water, trying to be as efficient as possible. I pull at the water, trying to get myself to top speed, but somehow my body did not obey. This was the fastest event and it felt like only a few seconds before it was over and I was reaching for the opposite wall marking fifty meters. My fingers collapsed into my hand as I collide into the wall and my chest heaves. A second later, the girl with the slight build does as well, huffing. I wasn't in shape, my shoulders had been killing me, and I didn't do any of my pre-meet ritual and I still won. Somehow. Barely.

That fifty free felt awful and I didn't even feel like I was truly sprinting. That had to be at least a second more than my best time.

I could see Coach Suzuki thinking the same as he hands me a towel, telling me to dry off and shower as he deals with Yoshida-sensei. I nod gratefully, pulling my bag on as the Seigaku girls sent glares my way. I take a quick glimpse at the cuts on my legs from that pink-haired girl's toenails and grimace. The cuts were seeping drops of blood and I gently wipe the blood away. The blood blossoms on the fabric and I just know that the pink-haired girl will be back for revenge.

But that did not matter yet. That did not matter today. I won two of the three events.

I am going to compete at districts. And I will win. And no Seigaku swimmer was going to take that away from me.

Hey guys! Sorry for the really long wait! I was sick and the file got deleted off of my computer. Please read and review! Your reviews really encourage me to keep going when I'm going through rough patches in writing.

I just started a new fic called Black, White, and Everything in Between. It's different from this fic but if you like this one, I greatly encourage for you to go check it out. I also updated my oldest fic, Finding Luck.

Preview of Chapter 15

"You owe me for this," he reminds me, tilting my chin up in the tennis supply closet. "Close your eyes and stay still."

I could feel his hot breath against my cheek.

Until next time! I hope you enjoyed!

Take a peek at Black, White, and Everything in Between!