Disclaimers: I do not own Prince of Tennis, nor any of the characters, settings or story lines. I've modified them without the consent of their creator and do not make any money from my use of them.

Author's Note: I have deleted this note at least a dozen times. I'll try one more time. Hello all, I'm new to this sort of writing, although not to reading it, so please let me know what you think. Nyaaah, I don't really know what to say here. Ok ok, read, lemme know what you think, feel free to correct me, thanks.

"I'm serious Uncle. I really think you should talk to him," Nanako urged.

"No."

"But Uncle, you've heard him at night! The way he cries out," she persisted.

"He'll be fine, he's twelve years old, he's perfectly capable of handling his own nightmares now."

"Why are you so heartless?"

"I'm not being heartless, he's a boy, boys don't talk about what they're feeling, and they, him especially, wouldn't want his old man prying into his nightly affairs."

"You wouldn't mind prying into them if his nightly affairs included pervy magazines like yours," Nanako muttered.

"H-hey! I don't know what you are talking about! I'm just an h..."

"...Honest monk?" she finished for him, imitating his carefree tone.

"Yes that! Either way, he'll be fine."

"Uncle you do know he only says ONE word right? A name specifically."

"Well, yes."

"And that doesn't worry you? What if Ryoma is being bullied?"

"That kid? Bullied?" Nanjiro's laugh boomed throughout the room, "You're serious? Who in their right mind would think Ryoma COULD be bullied, he may be small, but just that look he gives his friends when he's angry is scary."

Nanako blushed, "I suppose you're right Uncle, I just worry about him."

"Fuji-sempai!" he screamed as he chased Fuji through the rain. Ryoma could hardly see his surroundings. It was so dark, the rain coming down in sheets. His jersey clung to his body. He continually swept his swept his emerald black locks from his face, never stopping to wonder where his hat was.

"Fuji-sempai!"
"Fuji-sempai!" he screamed, running his voice ragged, the longer he chased him the farther away he seemed to get.
"Fuji-sempai!" he cried out again, falling to his knees, Fuji never even seemed to notice. He had to stand up, he had to keep running, he had to catch up, he had to catch him.
"Fuji-sempai!" he whimpered, tears flowing down his face as he staggered to his feet, those tears lost in the rain, charging blindly through the downpour, no longer sure which way to go.

"Fuji-sempai!" he called, and called, until he began to spiral downwards into the darkness, as though direction had lost all meaning, why hadn't he hit the ground yet, but still he called out to Fuji, and still his calls went unanswered.

"Fuji-sempai!" Ryoma screamed, sitting bolt upright in his bed. Letting out a groan, he twisted to view the clock behind him, the numbers mercilessly reading out 3:37AM. How many days had it been since he'd slept through the night without this same dream? Six? Maybe a week, maybe two. Using the sleeve of his night shirt to wipe the cold and clamy sweat from his forehead, Ryoma yawned, shaking his head to clear away the lingering images in his head.

Oh well, might as well get ready for morning practice, he thought. Sleep wasn't going to be coming back to pay him a visit until that night either way. Walking across the hall into the bathroom Ryoma looked himself over. "So not cool," he groused running his fingers through the dark bags that seemed to have become a permanent feature on his face. Drawing a bath for himself he shed his pajamas, dropping them to the floor. Sliding off his boxers and sliding down into the bath. Maybe I should speak to one of the regulars about my dream, a hint of red coloring his face, idiot. He just had to shake it off. Sinking lower into the water Ryoma could feel the aches in his muscles as they slipped away, this lost sleep was beginning to become inconvenient, at least it hadn't caused him to look bad at practice yet, he was still keeping up, although be it with more difficulty than before. Ryoma only closed his eyes for a second, exhausted.

It was raining, no it was pouring.
"Fuji-sempai!" he cried, chasing, but never catching.

"Fuji-sempai!" he cried, falling to his knees, breathing harshly.

The rain, why was the rain so warm, "Fuji-sempai!"

"Fuji-sempai!" he all but cried.

Ryoma snapped awake again, still in the tub, the bath water was running cold now. Climbing from the tub Ryoma quickly began to towel himself off, the display on his phone now read 5:11AM. Tossing on his Seigaku jersey and reaching for his signature hat, Ryoma picked up his bag and walked quietly into the kitchen, scrawling a quick note telling his parents he'd left early for "self training" should suffice.

It was around 5:40AM when he arrived at the school. It sure was eerie this time of morning, walking to the clubhouse alone, he figured he may as well try his luck. Walking up and twisting the knob, he was surprised to find the door unlocked. Putting his things away and pulling out his racket and a few balls he was surprised for the second time this morning as the door behind him openned. "Echizen-kun?" a voice queried, the voice to Ryoma was almost foreign, a voice he would call out to every night, and a voice he wouldn't hear.

"Good morning, Fuji-sempai," Ryoma said nonchalantly, pulling his cap down over his eyes.

"You're here early this morning," the brunette replied, his eyes closed in their usual smiling way.

"You too."

"Saa, Sleep is an elusive thing."

Ryoma only nodded, "Match?" he asked, holding up a ball and his racket.

"One set," the tensai replied, pulling out his own racket.

The two walked together to the courts, the sun was illuminating the sky now.

The match ensued, the two battling back and forth, neither really noticing that others were beginning to arrive, each newcomer would look out to the court, drop their bag and watch. It wasn't long before the two had attracted a modest crowd, a few of the regulars among them. The two players just continued to rally back and forth, every now and then one of them would score.

"Nya, Oishi, why are Ochibi and Fuji having a match before practice has even started," Eiji whispered, a look of confusion on his face.
"Well, Echizen-kun has been having trouble lately."

"What? Ochibi? What do you mean?"

"Well, he's been breathing heavier in practice, lagging behind .4 seconds each lap, his twist serves don't have quite their usual spin, and his drives are arching about 7cm less than they normally do," Inui replied from behind pushing his glasses up as he continued to scribble in his notebook, looking up every few seconds at the match before them.

"Nya, Inui, when did you get there?"

"Exactly three minutes ago, it is 6:57AM Eiji."

"Where did Oishi go?"

"He's talking to Tezuka over there. They seem to be debating about whether or not to stop Echizen and Fuji."

"Wow," half the onlookers said at once.

"Eh, sempai, good match, I took four games from you at least." Ryoma said, shaking Fuji's hand.

"Mmm, well played Echizen-kun," Fuji replied.

"All right, everyone start with 20 laps. Let's get moving we still have the rest of the tournament to win," Tezuka commanded, his voice ringing out despite the fact he barely raised it at all.

"Nya, Ochibi are you feeling all right?" Eiji asked, panting as the regulars finished their last lap, leading the entire club in a race around the court.

"Why do you ask, Kikumaru-sempai?" Ryoma replied, surprised, he'd thought he'd done a pretty good job maintaining his tennis and practice performance despite his lack of sleep.

"I thought answering questions with more questions was Fuji's tactic? Inui said you haven't quite been yourself. He listed off some statistics about your performance," Eiji pryed.

Ryoma sighed, "Just haven't been sleeping well sempai, nothing to worry about."

"Perhaps Ochibi needs to...you know..to help himself sleep," Eiji laughed, elbowing Ryoma playfully.

"That hurts sempai," Ryoma complained, pulling his hat down over his eyes in a futile attempt to hide the redness flowing into his cheeks. "Ne Sempai? Have you ever had anyone stuck in your head? Like to where you can't stop thinking about them?"

"Nyaaa, Ochibi, that only happens to me with Oishi, is our Ochibi falling in love?" Eiji asked suddenly excited, pulling Ryoma into a head-lock, "Why don't you tell me who the lucky girl is?"

Ryoma's face only reddened further at his sempai's response. "Oishi-sempai...That hurts sempai!" Ryoma reiterated as Eiji placed him into a headlock.

Neither of them seemed to notice that only a few feet behind them stood Fuji. Having heard the entire conversation, he couldn't help but wonder three things by the time it ended. First, what was keeping Ryoma up at night? Second, who was on Ryoma's mind so much that he couldn't get them out of his head? And third, how much did Ryoma know about things like that?

Author's Note: I have edited and re-edited this last paragraph and I still don't like it. -sigh- -kicks stack of papers beside desk- Thanks for reading. I don't want to give stuff away just in case people do like it, but we all know Fuji is sadistic. Lemme know whatcha think. Also, this is self-beta'd, so feel free to point out mistakes to me, and I will fix them.