Author: Neiize

Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or anything else that brings in a sufficient amount of money, for that matter. What I do own is the storyline and plot that go on in my story and the occasional OC, but that is all. I write for the sake of writing, and nothing more.

Warning: Mild swearing and over-excessive happiness from a certain neko-jin.

Author's Notes: I got this idea randomly one day, and just decided to write about it and this is what I ended up with. I do have a basic story line in mind, but I'm not quite sure I have a knack for yaoi. I might continue it, depending on what people think of this. This is a whole new era of writing for me, so please be kind. In any case, enjoy!

Side note: Don't like yaoi? Don't read. Actually, you see that pretty little button on the top left corner of your screen that says 'back'? If you press it, It'll do a neat little trick for you. (Anyone else picking up my less-than-ecstatic feelings towards bashers?)

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Ah, cameras.

The blessing contained within a slim, metal, caging. It can be used for many different purposes: to capture heart-felt memories, and sometimes even video taping worth while happenings. Maybe watching your baby take it's first steps and later on in life that same baby graduating from kinder garden, high school, and eventually university.

But screw all that. Blackmail all the way, baby!

Oh yes, blackmail. The sweetest of all things... sweet. Okay not really, but my mind is racing too fast with all the activies I can now do freely without the all-mighty Kai Hiwatari getting on my ever-so kitty-like case. Take that, you arrogant asshole of a man! No more getting up to train when it's too dark to see anything! No more running more laps than the number of idiots in this country alone! (You'd be surprised) And best of all, no more Russian cursing and me spending more time looking for that damn dictionary than actually looking up the word! And, by the way, if any inconspicuous looking person comes up to you and says "preveenchte vac" or "tupayu shopa" or anything else along the lines of words that sound like someone vomiting while beating a horse and having a seizure at the same time, aim for the crotch then run like hell. Take this advice from personal experiences of mine.

But I bet you're dying to know what I've got that's so juicy and embarrassing that I'd actually think that I'd get that hard ass to obey my every command. I bet now you're reading, eagerly mind you, these lines just waiting for an explanation on what I did. I bet now you're getting pretty pissed, because obviously I'm stalling just to get on your nerves. Now I bet that you're probably cussing under your breath. Now I bet you've got a nice little bulging vein forming on your forehead. Now I bet you beat the computer screen in with multiple sized hammers.

Now if you're actually that much in need of anger management classes that you did that last thing, then you should be thanking me for finally revealing your hidden secret because even if you didn't go telling the world after that little psychotic episode, I'm pretty sure someone will find several large hammers sticking out of a mangled computer screen a bit odd. So your welcome. Anyway, back to my brilliantness.

I was innocently minding my own business, stalking Kai after his most recent Tyson-induced anger attack. Okay, I know: that "stalking" thing seems kind of bad. But in all honestly, I was being kind and considerate; for the rest of humanity. Think about it for a second- the guy can be best described as a walking hand grenade. Pull and push on the wrong thing at the wrong time and you could be in a lovely coffin by midnight. And of course, the graceful Kai does not see or sense age. In other words, I wouldn't be surprised if he sent a toddler to the emergency room who would later find out he's in need of a replacement hip and many, many, many years of intense and thorough therapy. Blah, getting off topic. So like I said, I followed him: first a couple of miles away from the dojo. Seeing as he was still swearing and kicking squirrels along his way, I sort of got the feeling he still wasn't the content Kai he always is (Oh, look. I made a funny). So then I kept following him until he reached the outskirts of town, with nothing interesting or mental to report. I was about to turn back when I suddenly saw Kai just walk into a bush. Just like that. Like the bush was never there, like it was some sort of mirage, like he was some sort of FBI agent hired to spy on internationally-acclaimed beybladers. Like that would ever be true. Keep focus, Ray. Long story short: I followed the guy into this unknown forest, until he finally stopped, dead in his tracks (by the way, this caused me to also stop suddenly, slip on a pile of shit/mud (probably the first thing by the way it smelt) and land flat on my ass. Not that that matters) and then he started mumbling something. Something non-Russian. Something... cute. I'll try to mentally recall this as best as I can:

"Pom-Pom? Come here girl..."

Now, cue the adorably cute bunny-wabbit hoping out of nearby shrubbery.

Now, cue it instinctively hopping towards Kai and crawling into his widely-spread arms.

Now, cue me stuffing leaves into my mouth to prevent yesterday's milk from squirting out my nose.

Now, finally, cue me taking out my camera from the pocket of the same jacket I wore to Kenny's birthday party last week. Cue me taking 92 pictures of the cold-hearted bastard. Cuddling with a bunny. A freakin' bunny.

Now, cue me finally getting the chance to laugh my ass off.

After I got home and stopped jumping up and down, screaming "you're ass is mine!" (no pervertedness intended), the first thing that popped into my mind was, as you know, blackmail. But let's have one of my little honesty-sessions here: I know about the time with him petting that stray cat, okay? Again, cameras: wonderful thing. But come on: a bunny? One of the cutest, gentlest, fluffiest animals there is on the planet? I could imagine him setting the bunny on fire, but not cuddling and petting it. Who would have ever thought Kai to be a sensitive, soft-spoken and all around nice guy? A retarded monkey with a pineapple sticking out of his right eardrum, that's who! Even though I'm brimming with happness and excitement, I suddenly know that there is now an issue on my hands: I'm the soft-spoken one, not him! Every person in the Bladebreakers has an obvious persona about them. Tyson's the friendly part-pig that's good for a cheap laugh now or then, and he's the one who helps keep the team together. Everytime we've split up, it's because of him we ended right back where we started. Which is a good thing. I think. Max is the sugar high blond who never leaves home without a smile and skittles. He's always running around with Tyson destroying some sort of priceless object wherever he goes. Daichi is basically the annoying kid who just showed up one day and decided to plant his hairy little butt right here and never move an inch. Literally, the day I see the guy attempt to pick up a duster is the day purple flying cows take over Entertainment Tonight and blame Lindsay Lohan for mad cow. Kenny is the quiet nerd in the back corner who attempts to settle an argument now or then but ultimately just ends up in the corner again. Hillary is kind of like Daichi, but I can tolerate her. She's one of those girls who, ya know... doesn't turn into a pile of mush when she's around us. She's not afraid to speak her mind or make an intelligent comment once in a while, and If it wasn't for her Tyson would probably be walking around oh-natural and giving people within a 5 mile radius detached retinas. And me, well I'm the soft-spoken sometimes blunt one who throws in a sarcastic comment here or there. And Kai is the sadistic bastard with no emotions or feelings for others.

Don't get me wrong. I really do like my friends. They're there for me when I need them and they make me happy and laugh. At their misfortunes of course, but still, the laughter's there. Oh, but you should know something. When I say friends, I mean the people who don't torture me day and night and laugh at me when Mariah tackled me into that furnace. Not only did I dislocate my shoulder, but I didn't hear the end of it for about 2 months from Tyson and Daichi. Not that I mind the taunting. No, no, no, people. Once thing totally trumps taunting. Actions. As they say, actions speak louder than words. For example, when someone looks at your shoulder, starts to laugh, walks into the basement and you can still hear them laughing, that sort of speaks louder than someone saying "How's the shoulder?" with a slap on the back and a cheesy grin. And if you can't tell who that laughing someone was, it's the negative sack of muscles and organs thrown directly in my direction, every day for the past 3 years. Or Kai. Whatever you prefer.

But enough with that crap. The key thing here? I rule the freakin' universe now! I wonder how I'm going to get this to work. Should I just show him the pictures and tell him to listen to my every command? Should I just secretly jam 50 copies under everyone's doors in the middle of the night and let the torture work itself in? Should I just scream "LOOK KAI PETTED A BUNNY!" and show the world? Oh god, I think I'm getting giddy just thinking about it!

If you're wondering right now I'm in my room, just jumping up and down on my bed. I think I pretty much crippled this mattress, but I can now I'm pretty sure Kai will have no objections to buy me another one. Or maybe 5. Or maybe a whole new house, for that matter. Or a mansion. With a swimming pool filled with gold. In Cuba. Whoa, I should be writing this down! Where's that dam-

"Ray! Get down here! Dinner's ready!"

And that, laides and gentlemen, was Hillary. Breaking me out of my scheming. I'll be sure to accidently spit my gum into her hair later. Right now, I'm pretty hungry.

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"Yo, Max! Gravy!"

"Tyson! Don't be rude! Ask Max nic-"

"Here you go!"

"Max! Don't swing the gravy across the table like that when it's in a glass bowl! That could be dangerous!"

"Yea, you could have dropped the gravy ya dumbass!"

Oh, gee. That's just one of the most intelligent things I have heard today, Tyson.

A little guidance for the peole who are new here: diner is pretty much the same thing every night. Hillary cooks something, scowls at Tyson for having the table manners of a bulldozer, and then I wash the dishes. Believe me, in my mind I'm jumping up and down and doing the Mexican Hat Dance. Note to self: learn Mexican Hat Dance.

Oh, ha, look. Kenny's trying to get them to "settle down". Good luck with that, Ken.

I'm bored. I know I should be eating, but I really don't find horse liver and lima beans all that appetizing.

So, let's look around the table. Max: eating. Hillary: eating. Tyson-

Random thought: what is up the ball cap Tyson wears? I mean it's not hideously ugly or anything (that's the role of his face), but I mean what's the point of wearing it all the time? He always keeps it on a slant so it doesn't keep the sun out of his eyes. You could put his hair through a vacuum cleaner and it would still look like a clump of blueberry vomit, so it doesn't help hide that either. It literally has no use for him. All it does is sit on that ever-so-heavy noggin (I'm on a roll today). But for some reason he gets mad when Max and Daichi play keep-away with it. Is there something I'm missing here? Is it made of rare Egyptian cotton? God's morning stubble? I'll be sure to ask about it later.

" Hey, look Hillary! Tyson's sneaking dessert!"

"Am not, rat boy!"

"Well then why is there a fresh fudge stain on your shirt?"

"Because... you're a rat boy!"

And now it seems like Datchi and Tyson are fighting over sneaked desserts, and once again Tyson is using his brain capacity to the fullest extent. You better watch out folks.

Huh. I'm bored again.

Everyone's eating, aside from Tyson and Daichi who are now yelling over a fugde stain that Daichi claims-

Another random thought: why does Daichi have a random patch in the middle of his face? Honestly, what the heck is that thing? It looks like some deformed gapping hole-like thing that decided to attach itself to my poor leprechaun friend's face. Maybe it's some kind of tattoo. Nope, scratch that. Daichi can barely spell "tattoo" let alone know what it is. He'd probably think it's some kind of foreign meat. Or may-

" Gee willikers! Watch out Ray it's coming right for you!"

Huh, did Kenny just say something? Oh well, as I wa- wait, why does my chest feel so stick- ew. Ew. Ewww. EWWWWWW. What the hell is this? Not only is it disgustingly sticky, its brown. It's brown and it's sticky. That sounds kind of familiar...EWWWWW MOTHERFU-

"Yo, sorry man! That gravy sure has some distance!"

Oh, ha ha. It's gravy. I knew that.

"Aw, look what you did Tyson. You should at least help Ray. He seems a bit shaken up."

A bit shaken up? Gee Max, nice job on that conclusion. I thought someone flung turd at me. They're lucky I was paying no attention to the real world what-so-ever or I would have done one of my "crazy matrix jumping attack things" (as Max would call it) and probably knocked Kai out in the process, since he's sitting beside me.

Damn, why wasn't I paying attention?

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I'm sooo tired. I flopped right onto my bed, took a deep breath, and stared at the ceiling, with about fifty different thoughts running through my mind.

Why did Hillary serve us horse liver? How shall I blackmail my dearly beloved team captain? Where did I leave my slinkie? Do we have training tomorrow? Why are the red dots in the ceiling turning into Barney, who then starts to break dance with 50 cent?

Okay, I really need some sleep.

I quickly pulled back the sheets and got right into bed. Ahhh, the blankets are so warm and soft. This pillow seems a bit weird, though. It feels... uh, okay. Random question: is a pillow supposed to feel hard, rough, and flesh-scratching? ...No? Uh-oh, that's not good. Al right Ray, stay calm. At a moment like this, when your sensitive-to-being-cut face might be in danger, there is only one logical and sensible thing to do.

"HOLEY SHIT I'M GONNA DIE!"

BOOM

Screaming like a school girl, hitting yourself on the headboard and gracefully falling flat on your ass, for the second time today. Real intelligent, Kon. Wait a minute. Before I start giving myself low self-esteem issues, what the hell was I sleeping on? I start getting up, but then I realize something that is actually pretty smart.

That thing could be alive.

Think about it. Maybe someone planted some evil, itchy, furry, manical ferret there to hex me! Not that I'm too sure the thing I was sleeping on was an animal... still. Hex. Heeexxx! It even sounds evil. Oh god. I knew it. Kai saw me. Oh my god, he saw me. Will. Will. That's it. A will. I want a will. No, I need a will. Where the hell did I leave my notebook? I quickly shot up and started to look around the room. Start from the left corner then work your way down. On a chair? Nope, not there. Nightstand? Nope, nothing on it or in the drawers. Under the sheets? Nope, nope. The Pil-. Shit.

"TYSON!"

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Read and Review, please. Inspiration is what keeps me going.