Phoenix Tears

Key

Sentences/ words that are boldand in italics, are direct thoughts.

Random italic words in a sentence are emphasis.

"Italics with speech marks" signify that what is being said within the speech marks is some distance away.

Bold is Onomatopoeia.

"Bold, italic, and speech marks" signify telepathic speech.

A/N- my second posted Beyblade fic! For those of you who don't already know, the key above doesn't always apply to every fandom or fic.

Disclaimer- Do you think that if I owned Beyblade I would be writing fics? No, I'll be making episodes instead, and inventing machines to make Kai etc 3-D- touchable (yum!) holograms. Of course, what I won't do is tell you that I also invented a machine to bring Kai to life and now I have him in my closet, and all to myself! Muahahahaha!

Anyway…

Chapter 1- Darkness and Light

He was back; back in that place; where he was alone. Always alone.

He didn't like that place, where the darkness choked him, where the smell engulfed him. The screams were all around him, tearing into him as broken glass would. They reached his bones, freezing his joints, held him in place so all he could do was listen. He wanted to cry, but he couldn't. Tears weren't allowed.

He shifted where he sat in inches of filth, water which would be up to his ankles were he stood. His movement made him hiss in pain. His wrists were as high as they could get, high enough that his shoulders were working themselves out of their sockets, giving up with the strain. Those wrists were manacled; but not by modern handcuffs. These manacles were mediaeval dungeon style- the kind that chafed the skin away, the kind that cut deeply into the unfortunate person's flesh.

But he had been here before, he could put up with it. Pain was nothing knew to him, though it still occasionally hurt. His grandfather had put him under a lot of pain ever since he had come here, after he was taken away from his family. That had been a year ago, when he had been five. Pain he could handle.

What he couldn't deal with was being alone.

But he was always alone, even now when it had been almost three years since he had escaped the abbey. Three years since he had last seen her.

Almost ten years he had been in the abbey. He no longer felt pain. Even the screams didn't get to him anymore. The pain, the darkness and the loneliness had been blocked out- forgotten, just another repressed memory, like those of his life before. He no longer remembered that he had had a family before the abbey. He had always been at the abbey; Voltaire said he had been born there. He had no parents, no sister- he didn't even know what the words meant.

He was fourteen when he had seen the strange creature brought into the abbey. It looked human, but it was different than everyone at the abbey, different than anything he had seen before. He was curious.

Voltaire always said that feelings got in the way of beyblading, and curiosity was one of those feelings, right? Well it did get in the way. He had been unable to gain a perfect score, and his grandfather had been displeased and had sent him to his room.

When he got there, the strange creature had been on its knees, cleaning the fireplace out. He watched it for a while, trying to figure out what it was. Now and again he caught a sight of flesh, a slender hand followed by a slim wrist emerged from a sleeve and did things to him that he didn't understand. His heart sped up, and his breathing grew shallow, the effects growing worse when a leg was exposed.

He shook his head. What was wrong with him? Was he ill? Backing away, he didn't see some logs for the fire, and almost tripped over them as they went rolling into the other person.

It gave a muffled sound of surprise as the log hit it. Before he had even caught his balance, it turned around to see what had happened.

His jaw dropped. "What are you?" The words slipped out before he could stop them.

The creature blinked. "Don't you mean who am I?"

He shook his head. "What."

"I'm a girl." It replied, in a similar tone Voltaire and Boris used when they told him how stupid he was.

"What's a girl?" He asked, walking backwards until he was able to sit on the end of his bed. Waiting for the girl to answer, he cocked his head.

"You're kidding, right? You're seriously trying to tell me that you don't know what a girl is?" At his blank expression, she sighed. "A girl is a type of human, like a boy. Instead of him and his, you say her, and instead of he you say she. Woman instead of man, female instead of male. Get it now?"

He gave a quick, sharp nod then asked another question. "Why are there two different types of human? Boys and girls?"

The girl groaned. "Before I say anymore, I'd like to know who I'm talking to. What's your name?"

"Kai. Kai Hiwatari."

"Okay, on with the sex education."

"Sex?" Kai was confused.

"Oh boy, am I in for a tough night," she sighed. "Okay. Sex is when two people show how much they care about each other physically. Sex is actually supposed to be to make babies and to carry on the human race. Men make the babies and women carry them inside them for nine months until they're ready to be born." She blushed slightly. "Did you understand that?"

Kai just blinked.

"Oh, come on, you're just joking, aren't you? I mean, how can someone not know about this stuff- especially the fact that there are girls as well as boys; and at your age?"

"What happens in sex?" Kai asked. "It sounds interesting. Will you show me?"

She stared at him. Then, remembering she had a job to do, she turned, gathered up the bags of ash and headed for the door.

"Well, are you going to show me?"

The girl ignored him and left without a word.

She wasn't there the next day, or the next four days after that. Boris had been letting him off later than usual, working him harder. This particular time, he had had to concentrate on Dranzer fight with another blade while ten other blades were attacking him.

Now, exhausted, and bleeding from everywhere, he made it to his room and flopped down on his bed, not even noticing that she was there.

She looked up when the door opened. She expected Kai to ask her about sex again, but instead he just walked to his bed and collapsed.

Concerned, she stood up to get a better look at him. She gasped when she saw his ripped flesh, tatters of cloth sticking to the blood.

Dropping her cloth, she hurried to his bedside and carefully rolled him over. "Kai?" She asked urgently, stroking the hair from his head.

"What are you doing?" He asked weakly, his eyes still shut.

"You mean with my hand? Haven't you ever been comforted before?"

"No. Just hit." Kai opened his eyes and focused on her face. "I like it," he said hesitantly.

She was filled with an overwhelming feeling of sadness for him, and before she knew what she was doing, she had kissed him on the forehead. When she lifted her head up again, her eyes were drawn by his beautiful crimson ones, which at the moment were filled with questions, and wonder for what had just happened.

"I liked that, too." He whispered.

Shaking her head to clear it a little, she motioned for him to sit up. "Let's get you cleaned up. Doesn't that hurt?"

"Hurt?"

"Oh, Kai."

A/N- hey, what can I say? It's a bad place to stop, but I can't write anymore at the moment, and as my sister pointed out to me, if I write in chapters, I'll get more reviews. (Wishes.)