A/N: I DO NOT OWN PRINCE OF TENNIS

Again, I'm procrastinating. Nothing new. Well, please read and review!!
Oh, and Seigaku is a high school in this story too.

Ryoma felt a rumbling in his stomach and decided it was time to get up, unfortunately. He rubbed his eyes, trying to wake himself up. He looked at the clock. The red numbers indicated that it was eleven thirty AM. He yawned.

He slowly got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He washed his face and looked in the mirror. His eyes widened. There was a shadow, a black shadow. No, it wasn't black. It was…empty. That empty shadow was in the shape of a man wearing a hooded cloak. On one side of the cloak, there was a long scythe. Ryoma blinked a few times. It couldn't be that this figure was…a shinigami.

Ryoma quickly washed his face again. It was still there. He walked down the stairs to the kitchen. He put two slices of bread into the metal toaster. He looked at his reflection in the window as he waited. That shinigami was still there.

Now, Ryoma was getting scared, though he'd never admit it to anyone. A shinigami was a Death God. Did that mean he was going to die? He took a deep breath and turned around. There it was in its dark glory. The shinigami was standing right there. Ryoma gulped. He asked, "Am I going to die?"

The figure was silent. Then, in a deep, hollow voice, it answered. "You can see me?"

Ryoma nodded.

The shingami spoke slowly."You shouldn't be able to."

Ryoma's eyes widened. "Why not?"

The shinigami answered, "It's not your time yet."

"Not…my…time?" Ryoma stuttered, though he'd never admit that either.

"No." The shinigami began to fade away.

"Wait! Stop!" Ryoma said. It paid no attention to Ryoma and full disappeared.

Ryoma shook his head. He was dreaming. Yes, that's it. His entire encounter with that 'shinigami' was just a dream. It hadn't happened. It would never happen. His sleepy mind just made it up.

*

Ryoma pushed the library cart to the next shelf. He put yet another book back on its shelf. He picked up the next book and instantly paused. The book's title was Legends of the Shinigami. On the cover was that figure he had seen two days ago, Sunday. No, he hadn't seen anything. It had only been a dream.

Ryoma put the back on its shelf and looked down at the metal cart. There were no more books. He only saw his reflection…and the empty shadow of the shinigami. He whirled. There it was. That shinigami was right there. Ryoma gulped. "What do you want?"

The shinigami didn't answer. It was just silent. Ryoma asked his question again. This time the shinigami answered. "I'm always watching and always will."

Ryoma felt fear again. "Why?"

The shinigami replied, "So you don't die before your time." With that comment, it began to fade away again.

Ryoma said, "No!" He reached out to grab the shinigami's cloak, but his hand merely swiped through air. He lost his balance and fell over. He landed on his right wrist. He felt pain shoot up his air. He sat up, holding his wrist. He looked at it and saw that it was bruised. "Ite…" He muttered.

"Echizen?" A familiar, strong voice asked from above him.

Ryoma looked up. It was Tezuka. "Buchou!"

"What are you doing?" Tezuka asked.

"Nothing, Tezuka-buchou." Ryoma said.

Tezuka's eyes narrowed slightly. It was so barely noticeable that Ryoma wondered if he had actually seen it. Tezuka looked down at Ryoma's wrist. He asked, "What happened?"

Ryoma looked slightly confused. Then, he realized that Tezuka was talking about his wrist. Damn. I'm going to get laps for this. Ryoma stood up, nonchalantly. "I fell."

Tezuka gave him a look, one that tempted him to tell the truth. He couldn't, though. Who would believe him? Nobody. He didn't even believe himself. A shinigami? They weren't supposed to even exist.

Ryoma began to push the cart back to its station next to the librarian's desk. He, somehow, completely forget about his injury. When he put his right hand on the handle and began to push, he immediately pulled his hand back. Ryoma muttered, "Ite…"

Ryoma looked up from his wrist and saw Tezuka. His captain said, "Where does the cart go?"

Ryoma look confused for the second time in five minutes. Of course, he'd never ever admit that. "It goes next to the librarian's desk." Tezuka left, pushing the cart. In a few moments, he returned.

Tezuka said, "Come. We're going to the infirmary."

Ryoma had no idea what to say, so he just answered, "Hai."

Tezuka led the way to the infirmary. He opened the door to reveal an empty room. He walked over the cabinet and began looking around. Ryoma, unsure of what to do, just stood there. Tezuka pulled out a small roll of cohesive tape and motioned for Ryoma to approach him. He said, "Hold out your wrist." Ryoma did what he was told.

Tezuka began to wrap the wound as well as any doctor might. When he was finished, he put the now small roll away. He then asked, "Will this hinder your tennis?"

Ryoma smirked. Of course his captain would ask about tennis. He said, "No. I'll just use my left hand the entire time."

Tezuka said, "Fine. Don't be careless again."

Ryoma said, "Hai, Tezuka—" He was cut off. There, in Tezuka's glasses. He saw himself and the shinigami. He turned around ignoring that Tezuka was there.

The shinigami said, "Your injury was outside of the predictions." Then he disappeared once again.

Ryoma took a few steps back, and he fell against Tezuka. Tezuka immediately caught Ryoma by his left arm, so he wouldn't fall. "Echizen?"

"Outside…of the…predictions?" Ryoma muttered.

"Echizen?" Tezuka said. Then, he felt Ryoma sag against him. "Echizen!"

The boy was unconscious.