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Welcome to my first KaTy. I'm so happy! Hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade; it belongs to Aoki Takao.

Hope Burns With The Sun

Gray clouds pour inches of rain onto the streets, soaking everyone and everything outside. This includes one boy, about thirteen years of age, sporting a cap, flipped backwards. His damp hair lay flat and messy against his neck; his navy blue bangs are plastered against his forehead. Deep eyes, a brilliant shade of dark blue, scan the sidewalk beneath his feet.

Tyson Granger shuffles along, avoiding everyone, just traveling alone on this recognizable path he's walked so many times. He pulls the collar of his jacket up closer to his face when a strong breeze blows by, sending the raindrops spiraling in a different direction.

Eventually, he strolls into an all-too-familiar place: the cemetery. Heaving a sigh, he plods toward his destination, keeping his gaze glued to the grass, rain pattering on his head and back. Gloom surrounds each gravestone, as people long dead wail in agony, cry out in joy, their bones and others' memories all that remains of them. Tyson ignores their stories, meandering toward the gravesite he came to visit.

The darkness and rainwater seems to increase every minute, pressing sorrow around the already distressed boy. He disregards all activity around him as he stops in front of his mother's tombstone.

His eyes run over the information engraved on the stone in elaborate font:

Kari Granger

1959 – 1996

Wife and Mother

Tyson sighs again, remembering her funeral. Vivid pictures take over his mind:

(Flashback:)

Six-year-old Tyson stood next to his father, both clad in black. Holding his father's hand, Tyson gazed around curiously at all the people surrounding him, each one also wearing black outfits. Perplexed, Tyson gazed forward. He noted the crisp, brown 'box' being lowered into a freshly dug hole.

The little boy tugged gently on his father's hand.

"Daddy?" he said, looking up at his father.

Tears trickled from the man's eyes. With sorrow, he looked down at his son.

"We have to be quiet, Tyson," he whispered.

"But Daddy," Tyson continued, quieter than before, "What's going on?"

"I told you before, Mommy's being buried."

The little boy's brow creased in confusion. "I remember. But why are we burying Mommy?"

Tyson's father knelt down and scooped up his son. Cradling him gently, the man murmured, "Mommy's gone to Heaven, remember?"

Tyson clung to his father's smooth suit and gazed toward the grave. "Yes, I do, but why are we burying her?"

His father hesitated, trying to think of the best way to explain. "It's what you do when someone dies. It's respectful to bury them."

Tyson looked at his father, only to see him staring at the coffin, with some tears sliding down his cheeks.

"Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I…I don't want Mommy to be dead." The little boy gaped at the grave, before burying his face into his father's shoulder. He was still a bit confused, but he understood his mother was gone…forever.

Tyson's father gently massaged his little boy's back. "I don't want that either, Ty."

(:End flashback)

The usually mirthful boy feels tears stinging his eyes as he shoves the memory back into his mind. He blinks them away hastily.

As the rain continues to fall, Tyson sits on the damp grass, pants instantly wetter.

"Hey, Mom. It's Tyson."

The teen speaks softly, the rain partially drowning out his voice. But he knows she can hear him from Heaven, anyway. He carries on with his words.

"Dad wanted to come here, too, but he's busy. So's Hiro. They're gonna show later. They promised."

Tyson fumbles about in his jacket pocket, then. Fighting back tears, he produces a ramshackle beyblade.

"I know this isn't much, but Dad's always told me that gifts are moresignificant when they come from the heart. This is a beyblade I've used to train with. Since that's my life, basically, I want you to have it."

The teenager sets the beyblade that is the color of the storm clouds on his mother's grave.

--

A solitary rose petal drifts away in the wind from the flower clutched in the boy's hand. It floats away, down the sidewalk, never staying in one spot for a long period. The boy mindlessly watches it fall away, but keeps up his walking.

Raindrops fall onto his slender frame, dampening his slate-colored bangs and smearing his blue face paint. His white scarf flows behind him, a bit less gracefully than usual due to the rainwater. Stopping to gaze into a store window, Kai Hiwatari scowls at his reflection. He wipes away the running paint disdainfully with his palm, unhappy that the intimidating triangles must be eliminated due to the rain.

Carrying on, Kai strides to the cemetery. The gloomy place full of decaying carcasses is not where he would have chosen to be, but he was aware that his teammate had gone to visit the grave of his mother. Why this is so, he has no idea. But he figures this is an opportunity.

Much to Kai's dislike, he is now conscious of the fact that Fate has toyed with his heart. He confessed to himself of his liking of Tyson Granger as a friend after the world championships. But now, he realizes, as Fate would have it, he feels more for Tyson.

Kai curses himself for falling victim to love, but admits—only in his mind, heart, and soul—that he does love Tyson. He is quite displeased with this flaw, this weakness—but he realizes that perfection is, perhaps, something not meant to be obtained.

Still, Kai does not enjoy this flaw of feeling for the younger boy. But if that is the way that Fate will have it, Kai must accept it.He doubts anything could ever possibly happen between them, anyway. But his acceptance is the reason he now travels to the cemetery, rose in hand, as the rain falls and sets a scene of misery.

Kai glares at the air, wondering where precisely Tyson is in this cemetery. Hoping the boy hasn't left yet, he leans against the iron gate surrounding the place, crossing his arms though being careful to not crush or damage the delicate red rose.

--

Breaking the intent stare Tyson held on his mother's gravestone, he blinks to destroy the tears brimming in his eyes. Sniffling, Tyson stands, biting his bottom lip.

"I…guess I should go. Happy birthday, Mom. I love you."

Tyson turns away and begins shuffling toward the gate. A tear manages to roll down his face, mixing with the rainwater. He swipes it away with his finger.

Tyson stares at the ground, saddened more than before. Swallowing hard, he tries to think of anything to take his attention from his mother and the memory of her funeral. The first thing that comes to mind is…Kai.

With a sigh, Tyson allows himself to be distracted with the boy. He knows that no matter how hard he tries, Kai will never like him or care for him more than a friend does. This brings disappointment to mind, but Tyson can't help but think about the enigmatic teenager.

Tyson shifts his gaze to look ahead of him, toward the gate, images of Kai and his mother in his mind. Noticing someone at the gate, Tyson wonders what the person is doing. His vision is obscured by the rain, but he strains to see who is standing there.

As Tyson gets closer, he recognizes the figure.

"Kai?" Tyson calls out incredulously. He hurries toward the older boy, trying to shake indicators of sorrow away from his features. Some sadness lingers in his blue eyes.

Crimson eyes open and meet with the gaze of a slightly younger teen. Tyson feels like his heart is melting when he looks into those eyes, but ignores the pleasant feeling.

"What're you doing here?" the curious boy questions of his captain.

Kai closes his eyes and stands up straight. "Here," he murmurs, voice almost too quiet to be heard over the rain as he thrusts the flower at Tyson.

Surprised, Tyson asks, "What's this for?"

"For your mother's grave," is the blunt reply.

Tyson can't help the smile that spreads across his face. "Thanks, Kai. Wanna come put it on her grave with me?"

Kai opens his eyes in response. The two boys advance, back toward Tyson's mother's grave. Once there, Tyson gently lays the flower on the ground next to the beyblade he offered earlier.

The two stare for a moment in silence, the only sound the constant rhythm of the rain on the earth.

"It's her birthday today," Tyson confides in Kai, feeling compelled to tell the older boy why he chose to visit her grave particularly on this day.

Tyson gazes at Kai, who is absently gaping at the tombstone. That is the first time Tyson notes a change in the slightly taller teenager.

"Why don't you have those triangles on your face today?"

"The rain smeared them."

Another smile creeps onto Tyson's lips. Kai gives him a sideways look.

"You're a man of many words," Tyson kids.

Kai turns toward the gate, ignoring Tyson's remark, scarf twirling about in the process.

"Let's go back to the dojo," Kai suggests, though it sounds more like an order.

"Sure."

Tyson quickens his pace in order to keep up with Kai's stride. Once the two boys are well into their trek, Tyson strikes up conversation.

"Thanks for that rose, Kai."

"Hm."

"It was very thoughtful of you."

"Whatever."

The pair begins down the walkway leading up to the dojo door as the raindrops begin to fall in lighter sheets. As they step onto the porch and are about to enter through the door, Tyson clasps his hand on Kai's forearm, stopping the boy in his tracks. Kai turns his head and gazes at the younger boy, the curiosity not showing on his features in the least.

"I'm serious, Kai. It means a lot to me that you did that," Tyson continues, releasing Kai's arm.

The two stare into each other's eyes. Tyson once again feels that lovely, yet eerie,melting sensation.Kai feelsan undesirable tingle, too.

Tysonsmiles his genuine grin.

"It's the gifts from the heart that are most significant," he concludes, using his father's words, "So...thanks."

All that can be heard for a few moments is the ever-slowing drumming of the rain against the ground.

Surprisingly, a small smile graces Kai's lips.

"You're welcome," he mumbles.

Tyson and Kai both carry on into the dojo, going their separate ways inside, just as the rain ceases falling once-and-for-all today. The sun peaks through the clouds, sending rays of warmth onto the cool, damp city just as both teenagers, smiles still on lips,think to themselves, Maybe there's hope for us to be together after all.

End

Booyah! I'm so proud of this! My masterpiece…. I've been having writer's block, sorta, I think. Anyway, I've been wanting to write but I couldn't find inspiration, but somehow, I wrote this today. blissful sigh.

Now, please review!

have a nice day

CyborgRockStar

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