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 story line 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: Language, Mentions of Drugs, Violence,

Author's Notes: Yes, I am alive. With a new thrill of writing, as well. I've come up with a new multi-chapter story idea, after what seems like a lifetime. If there's a good amount of interest shown by reviewers, I'll be certain to continue. Random muses don't mean very much to me if there isn't support behind it.

Sidenote: Hey, have you ever liked a story so much you almost squealed when the author updated after 50 years? ME TOO! That's why the second I'm done typing this up, I'm off to scope out Translation Error(s), by the wonderful Sunshine Cove. And I really think you should, too.

Enjoy.

The Colour of Water

Napoleon Dynamite.

Or would ridiculous be the right word? I sighed as the previously mentioned character once again slurred "gosh!" for the hundredth time. My eyes slid closed as I imagined myself somewhere else. On a sofa, maybe, curled up with a fresh copy of Atonement and a nice cup of herbal tea. Before I could even get more in depth, my illusions literally shattered in my mind as the roaring of my friend's laughter took over.

"This is the greatest movie. Ever," Tyson, the clever yet mischievous daredevil of our group spoke mater-of-factly.

"Superbad was better," the ever bubbly Max disagreed.

"What about Knocked Up? That's a classic!" Daichi's scratchy but hearty voice, ever-so like he himself, was full of amusement and joy.

"Agreed."

Tyson snorted. "It's been out, for like, 2 weeks-"

"A year!" Daichi countered.

"-and it's made like, a total of three bucks-"

"Two hundred and nineteen million," Max corrected, his vast movie trivia coming in handy.

"-and the main chick wasn't even that hot."

"Yeah, 'cause Napoleon Dynamite's a real looker." Max quipped sarcastically.

"What the heck are you talking about, Max? He's as ugly as Tyson in the morning."

"He was being sarcastic, you idio- hey!" Tyson roared, causing him to choke on the popcorn he was devouring. After a few hard coughs, he choked out a hard, round popcorn kernel, which ricocheted into Tyson's grandmother's famous vase. Which, might I add, Tyson was extremely protective of. It broke into a million pieces, and landed with an audible crackle into the fire underneath, seeing as it was resting on the mantle of the fireplace.

The expression on Tyson's face was a cross between constipation and that of watching your beloved dog being run over by a 16-wheeler.

With a brief glace towards one another, Max and Daichi burst out into laughter. I watched on in amusement and grief for Tyson as he stared at the shards of his beloved heirloom being digested by the magnificent fire. Tears rolled down Daichi's face from laughing so hard as I put down my hardly-touched bowl of popcorn and patted Tyson on the shoulder.

"It's okay, it was an accident," I comforted.

He opened and closed his mouth numerous times, doing an impeccable impression of a fish, trying to respond to my words of sympathy. Unexpectedly, his mouth pressed into a hard line at the same time his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.

"You bastard!" Tyson cried before he lunged into Daichi with enough force to break a bone.

Between fighting Tyson's punches and his belches into his face, Daichi managed, "What the hell did I do? You're the one who broke it!"

"Shut up and take your punishment like a man!" Tyson yelled as he stuffed his dirty sock into Daichi's mouth.

Max was rolling on the floor, holding his stomach, roaring with laughter.

I was halfway down the upstairs hallway before the noises of shouting and booming laughter faded away, and eventually ceased. Though they were great friends and smart guys, sometimes you'd think talking with chimpanzees would be more logical. Tyson and Daichi broke into meaningless brawls often, and Max wasn't exactly a peacekeeper. Either he was in the background throwing pebbles at the two chanting "fight, fight, fight!", or laughing so hard he swallowed his own tonsils.

I was smiling as I entered my tiny yet cozy bedroom. Even with their occasional idiocy counted against them, they were still able to make me love them like brothers.

Talk about being whipped, I thought to myself as I emerged from my closest, wearing my fuzziest pajamas. A slight grimace pulled down the corners of my thin lips as I was faced with a slight problem. Simply put, there was nothing to do. The dishes were washed, the dojo was vacuumed, the bills paid, and so on.

The grimace disappeared and was replaced by a hopeful smile as I dug into the small shelf of my bedside table with excitement. I pulled out my tattered copy of For One More Day and flipped to the two pages where my bookmark lay beneath.

Though it was an absurdly small book, I had never been able to finish it with all the chores that were put upon my shoulders. For once, it seemed like my hectic life had given me a much needed break. I was glad that I finally had some time to finish the mini-masterpiece. The quant and emotional writing of the book had hooked me from just the summary, and I was deeply rooted into it by the first three chapters.

I was well past the hundred page mark when a soft knock on the door pulled me away from the grip of the compelling and deviously clever print. A blinked a few times and rubbed my tired eyes. "Come in," I called loudly enough for the knocker to hear.

I didn't have to look up to know the owner of the near-silent footsteps and silky voice. "If you were busy, I can come back another time. I don't want to bug you."

"Of course not," I smiled kindly. It was rare to find me without some kind of smile on my face. "Sit down. I haven't seen you all day,"

"Yeah," Kai sighed as he set himself down on the foot of my twin sized bed. The mattress creaked audibly. "I was busy. Taking care of stuff for back home. I fucking hate it. I'm not cut out to be some bullshit heir of some huge Russian company I couldn't give two shits about."

I winced. Kai had a bad habit of swearing like a drunken sailor. It was a pet peeve of mine, which he respected. Usually, he tried his best to bite his tongue. The fact that he wasn't today must have meant there was more beneath the surface he was worried about. "Is there a lot of paperwork?"

"Mhm," he moaned. The stress was evident just by taking a look at him. His forehead was creased so much that it looked like he'd been working non-stop for 100 years, not one day. The hunching of his shoulders was peculiar, like he was expecting to rebuff at any moment, but never did. "A lot of calls, a lot of acting fake and a lot of laughing at stupid jokes, a lot of taxes, a lot of bullshit, bullshit, bullshit." He listed, his voice getting angrier by the second.

I was frowning by now, too. I had a bad habit of sponging up the atmosphere around me, which heavily included the emotion. I could feel the stress of an unwanted life stinging at my neck, fumbling with my brow, tugging at the corners of my lips. "Isn't there a way out of this?"

"Besides renouncing my family name? No," he answered. He covered his mouth with a clenched fist as he spoke. "It's a family tradition. The eldest male of the Hiwatari clan always becomes the president of the Enterprises when the former decides to retire, and my father is making a spectacle of retiring on his fiftieth birthday, which is next year. I have to get the training in now so that I'll be prepared to handle everything." His explanation, even though intelligent and plausible, seemed stupid and non-sensical to me.

"Why should you put yourself though this, Kai? The way you speak of your father, I wouldn't think you'd mind renouncing your Hiwatari title." Even as the words left my mouth, I was aware of how biased I sounded. I hadn't met Kai's oafish father, never knew his hound of a mother, his nag of a grandmother. Kai could simply be playing it up for pity's sake, though it sounded very out-of-character of him.

"With the name comes power. I get away with more crap than the President of the United States because of who I am and who my parents are. I can handle it, I know I can." I was about to argue when Kai interrupted me. "Can we stop talking about it? I've had enough of my family for a lifetime. What's going on with you? All we do is talk about my problems."

" I can't complain," I answered with a hint of a smile. "As long as the guys are healthy and the house isn't on fire, I'm happy."

Kai had developed a very faint smile of his own while I spoke. "That's what I like about you. You're so carefree; the littlest things can make you happy." The trace of happiness he once held disappeared from his face as he thought about something unbeknownst to me. "I wish I was like that," he murmured exceptionally softly, with no emotion evident in his voice.

"Don't say that," I objected firmly. From the way his eyes darted up to meet mine, I could tell that he hadn't meant for me to hear his quiet mumble. "Everyone is different from one another. You're the person you are because of the experiences you were put through to get there. Regretting what you've become over your joy and hardships is like slapping God in the face."

He was calm again with a cocky smile as he lay down across my bed. "Only you can say stuff like that without making it sound corny, Ray,"

"Thank you," I replied warmly.

Before I could continue, an excessively loud siren and various crashing noises caught my attention. My head whipped painfully behind me, to where the sounds of danger were coming from. I quickly felt the uneasiness in my abdomen area. Not once in the two years I lived here have I seen any police cars, ambulances, or fire trucks, let alone witnessed them in action. In Japan, the crime rate is relatively low, with not even the hint of police being called on account of a noisy party happening down the block. Only for serious crimes have there been any trace of the authorities, and that's just a very seldom stroll down the street. If there were sirens, lights, and other uncharacteristic elements, it could only mean one thing: danger. And a very high dose of it.

When I turned to look at Kai, I could see the exact same knowledge flashing through his eyes.

"Oh no," Feeling a nauseating mix of fear and despair knotting inside of my stomach, I gripped onto the metal ledge of my bed's headrest for support. I had never been the one to be called upon in serious situations, for very reasons such as this one. My emotions always got the better of me, and my intelligence always rushed ahead to very logical, frightening outcomes, which only further incapacitated me.

"Relax," Kai spoke in a quiet, reassuring voice. "It's probably nothing." Even though I could detect the clear lie in his words, I felt still a bit more soothed than before.

"What should we do?" I asked, feeling feeble and helpless. I hated not doing anything in times of need; for some unknown reason, it made me feel guilty.

"Check it out," Kai responded, holding my bedroom door open, waiting for me to follow. I nearly dashed out of the bed and nervously walked behind him as we headed downstairs. Once we got there, we found Daichi, Tyson and Max huddled around the large and ornate living room window. The television was off and popcorn was scattered all over the floor. My worry for the current situation at hand kept me from lecturing them about keeping the floors clean.

"What'dya thinks going on?" Daichi asked, curiosity and a bit of fear colouring his tone. I peered over his head to see police cars and fire trucks parked at the house across the street from us. The cars were all randomly parked on patches on the grass, indicating a fearsome quickness, tire marks in the lush greenery.

"Dunno," Max responded simply, with an edge to his voice. Like me, Max wore his emotions on his sleeve. Just by looking at him, you could tell he was more frightened than anything else. Kai and I stood behind them, watching for any signs of movement from across the street. I idly wondered if the three boys crowded in front of us noticed the two of us behind them.

"Maybe," Tyson started in a husky voice, "Ms. Takanaoya's son is getting busted. Once I heard Kai and Ray talking about it. Kai saw him doing drugs," he clued the other two in. He didn't sound so much scared as he was perplexed. I wondered why.

"Kai knows everything," Daichi muttered spitefully, "and he never tells us anything."

"He was probably just tryna protect us, dude. Don't be mad at him," Tyson defended his friends like his life depended on it. It was a very noble trait I had always admired him for. Daichi didn't seem to think likewise. He stayed silent, with a brooding expression on his child-like face.

They stayed silent for what seemed like a lifetime as we all stared at the spacious house perched across from ours. I only now discovered that the trio before us hadn't realized Kai and I were standing behind them, only a step away. I found it odd, especially because of Max's habit of being extremely aware of his surroundings. I discovered the quirky trait when we once shared a room during the Chinese tournament. Max hadn't gotten a wink of rest because I tended to fidget while I slept.

"Look," Tyson whispered, his voice suddenly hoarse. From the clock on the adjacent wall I realized we had all been staring at the house for nearly half an hour.

"I don't see anything," Max whispered back, squinting into the darkness.

"Through the window."

"There's a curtain in the way," Daichi pointed out in a way that implied it was obvious.

"There's light behind the curtain. You can see the shadows of people moving." And he was right. You could clearly see three dark silhouettes. The first was a tall, bulky one, with a pointed cap and large hands. That one logically seemed like a police officer, but I wondered why there was only one. There were at least three police cars parked outside.

When the second shadow started moving, it grabbed my attention. This one was slim and petite, and could only be Mrs. Takanaoya. Her movements were stiff and frigid. It was obvious to conclude that the situation happening across the street was not a very pleasant one.

The third shadow was lanky and skinny. It was hard to tell if it was a very slim man or a husky, curve-less woman. The figure stood beside the assumed Mrs. Takanaoya, holding its ground very poorly. Even from such a distance, I could tell it was quivering. Or perhaps the curtain was just shaking, I couldn't be too sure.

Very abruptly, a fourth silhouette came dashing in at an unthinkable speed. It held out a rectangular figure in its hand for the first figure, the policeman, to examine. I noticed quite quickly how stiff the figure's arm was as it held up the flimsy-looking square object; as if it had been the thing their lives depended on.

I had been so preoccupied in studying the body language of the most recent mystery man that I hadn't noticed Ms. Takanaoya's shadow's arms reach up and cover her mouth dramatically, like she was holding back a cry. I didn't notice the tense hunch in the third shadow's shoulders, and I didn't notice more shadows coming in surrounding the whole room, stealthily and unnaturally calm. The extra shadow's bodies were all tense and rigid, like a predator hawking out its prey.

There wasn't enough time to make any sensible conclusions by the time everything registered in my mind.

When the police man walked up to the lanky figure, it swiftly picked up a nearby blunt-looking object and swung it onto the policeman's large form. The extra shadow's arms rose, revealing that they were all clutching onto small, dark objects. Guns. There had to be at least 5 of them. Every shadow in that room was tense, including the struck policeman who was slightly hunched over. An odd, but very soft ripping noise was coming from somewhere I couldn't quite pinpoint. The shaking of one of the gun-clutching arm of the extra's caught my attention, and I guessed that he was giving the lanky figure a warning.

The ripping sound grew when I realized it was too late.

The warning-given figure was about to kick the already damaged policeman in the face, but he suddenly fell to the ground.

Mrs. Takanaoya's ear-piercing scream was the first sound I had heard in ten minutes.

Only after the shadows had picked up the hurt policeman and the lanky body had I realized a bullet had pierced through him, rendering him helpless. Only after Kai pointed out that the little rectangular object was most probably a baggie full of cocaine, had I realized that the rumors were true. Only after everyone had left, after the other policemen dismissed people from the neighborhood who had come running when they heard the gun shots and the screams had the sudden image of a vase being sent into its own oblivion reminded me of the scene I had just witnessed.

Only after Kai started shaking my body had I realized I was in hysterics.

"Ray! Get a hold of yourself!" He commanded, but my mind has seemed scattered at the moment. The only thing I could think of was the vase, breaking into a million pieces. Of the man, the man I had seen the ambulances taking into their car, falling to the ground so listlessly. The two images shook me to my very core.

"Ray? Ray!" Max's alarmed voice sounded unnaturally quiet. The ripping noise, it was still there, and it was silencing almost everything else.

"Max, go get a blanket and some pillows. Daichi? Cold water and a towel. Tyson, help me calm him down. He's in hysterics." Even though the tearing noise was still prominent, I could tell Kai's voice was calm and in charge.

I didn't see if Max and Daichi did what they were told, because Kai was calmly leading me to the spacious couch in the very room, with Tyson close behind him. The tearing noise grew louder when I suddenly fell to my knees, clutching onto myself, as if to hold my body together. I stayed there for several minutes.

A cold slap to my face hushed not only the ripping, but every other noise in the house.

The room was dead silent for a good five seconds. I felt my eyes bug open, saw Max and Daichi's body come to a total standstill. I was suddenly aware of the cold tears stinging my face, my whole body quivering from a lack of warmth. My head was still angled oddly from the impact of skin to skin, so I slowly turned my head back to face Kai. From the look on his face, I could tell he thought I had gone insane. The silence stretched forward until I was finally able to find my voice.

"…Kai?" My voice cracked on the simple one-syllable word.

He took the small towel that had suddenly appeared on the floor beside him, dipped it in the bowl that had also just made its debut, and pressed it gingerly to my forehead.

"That scared the crap out of you, didn't it?" his tense eyes softened significantly as a single tear slid down my cheek. My throat felt like it was dissected, and I wasn't up to swallowing the lump that had formed. So I just nodded pathetically.

I let my head fall, so that my bangs covered my face. I was ashamed and embarrassed of displaying so much emotion.

"You guys can go to sleep now." It wasn't a demand; just a suggestion. Kai sounded strained and tired. On top of all the horrible things he already has to deal with, I just have to have a break down. Great job, Kon my internal monologue practically spat in disgust.

"But…" Tyson trailed off.

"Just do it,okay? I'll handle him,"

After a pause, Tyson managed, "Okay."

I heard three pairs of footsteps creep up the stairs, but couldn't see them. I was still hanging my head in shame.

"I only slapped you to bring you to yours senses," Kai exaggerated the words as if he were talking to a mentally unstable child. "Don't take it personally."

I didn't even register what Kai had said. I just stayed perfectly still, and only until there was complete silence, I managed to lift myself off of my knees. I walked wordlessly towards the stairs myself, but I heard the swift movement of Kai's steps behind me. If I hadn't known him for years, his walk would have been undetectable to me.

I slammed myself onto my bed and sprawled under the covers, making sure they covered my face. Kai had followed me into the room, and I could sense him standing over me, staring.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" his voice was all business, no emotion.

"No." I sounded as if I had cotton stuffed down my throat.

Without a word, I felt his towering figure leave the head of my bed and close the door quietly behind him.

I laid in bed for at least an hour, completely calm and in control.

Two minutes later, I started sobbing uncontrollably.

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