Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade
Chapter One – Early mornings
The storm began at six o'clock in the morning with a sudden and totally, utterly, freezing bucket of water. I think I actually woke the Gods with my screaming, (and quite possibly shattered the eardrums of whoever woke me.) Not that I care about that, as far as I am aware they now deserve to seriously suffer.
I leapt from my bed somewhat ungracefully, as I managed to trip over the sleeping, human shaped bundle of blanket on the floor, which I believe might be Tyson. He didn't move. Freaking deep sleeper, the sky could crack open and rain molten rock and he wouldn't notice. Unless it began raining sweets of course, then we wouldn't be able to hold him back.
I rectified my fall by grapping hold of the draws just in front of me. Bad idea. Everything, and I mean everything came cascading down in a heavy, slightly sharp avalanche of random objects. After that I was able to stand up, and take a first look at the person who had woken me.
Standing there, wide awake and with a smug grin on his face, was Kai. How he could look perfectly normal after the 24-hour coach journey from hell, I will never know. But then again he is Russian, and they don't seem to be affected by time, or weather, or feel any emotions at all.
It was then that I realized how cold it was. I shivered violently and gave Kai my death glare. He smirked casually, then turned and walked towards the door, where he stopped and said,
"Breakfast in ten minutes. Oh and wake the others." I could tell that there was a smirk on his face even with his back to me. Some people just have that air about them. It follows them around like a little puppy or something and launches itself on poor, unaware people to happen to get to close. Max and Tyson get a lot of that, the whole, I'm big, you're small, I'm clever, you're dumb, I'm perfect, you're annoying thing. And it's always from Kai. Always.
I woke Ray first, with the more gentle method of shaking. He woke quickly and was half way through yawning when he caught sight of my hair.
"What the…?" The drip, drip of my soaking hair was making a puddle on his lap. His eyebrow twitched upwards and his golden eyes shinned in the morning light. I explained in one word.
"Kai." He didn't need any more explanation. A smile broke through the tiredness, and he brushed the unbelievably long, black hair out of his face, before swinging himself out of bed and going to wake Max, who was sleeping on the floor beside Tyson. After Max was awake and all three of us were dressed, Ray turned to me as I was towel drying my hair and said,
"What are we going to do about Tyson?" Ahh I had forgotten him.
"Leave him to me." Said Max. Brave guy. Ray and I took a step backwards: we have had experience with a recently awakened Tyson. Now trust me when I say, it's not pretty!
However there is a strategy to it.
Step 1. Steel yourself for the approach.
Step 2. Walk slowly and carefully towards the suspect.
Step 3. Look behind you to make sure that the exit route is clear. (There is nothing worse than tripping over something whilst still in arms reach of the sleeping monster.)
Step 4. Take a deep breath. It is advisable to say a prayer at this point.
Step 5. Brandish weapon of choice e.g. something relatively soft but hard enough to produce some degree of pain, without lasting damage. Raise it above your head and slam said weapon into the target's face whilst screaming something similar to a war cry.
Step 6. Run as fast as possibly possible in the direction you came from, dodging all flailing limbs and stopping only when you have reached a safe distance.
Step 7. Congratulations! You can now turn around and have a good laugh at the target's expense.
Max knows this strategy.
I know that Max knows this strategy.
The whole world knows that Max knows this freaking strategy!
But today he is recovering from a 24 hour coach journey, so we can forgive him for what he is about to do next. He walked up to Tyson and reached for the glass of ice cold water on the floor beside the unconscious boy. I heard Ray groan beside me, but neither of us said anything: sometimes the consequences of actions such as these are even funnier than when you use the strategy.
Max knelt on the floor. He raised the glass. It tipped over, streaming its clear, ice liquid downwards. It travelled almost serenely in an arc, more effective than any alarm clock. It landed in the centre of Tyson's forehead and instantly showered his entire face. There was no sound for the whole of five seconds, and it was only when all of the water had been spilt that there was any reaction at all.
The dam broke. Kind of. Tyson's left arm flung itself into the air, grabbing hold of Max's throat, the other arm flying out and punching his stomach. Max's spluttering was drowned out by the ninja warrior cries of Tyson, as Max was sent crashing down onto the tiled floor beside him, still with a hand clasped in a vice around his neck, and the other beating him repeatedly. They were both twisting and squirming in a heap of flailing limbs, and max was attempting to choke out words that sounded a lot like curses from where Ray and I were standing.
We leapt into action as Max's face turned one shade darker than we though was probably safe. Then getting severely battered in the process, we managed to prize them apart, to leave us all scattered on the tiles, breathing deeply.
"Why is my face wet?"
"Tyson!" Whined Max.
"One of a kind!" Ray muttered, and instantly the tiredness vanished and we all began to laugh.
I left the others to finish getting ready in the bedroom we were all forced to share. I swear if the BBA cuts back anymore, they will make us sleep on the streets. Kai's the clever one, as much as it pains me to admit it. He grabs the sofa in the adjoining room and leaves the rest of us to suffer Tyson's snoring. He cares so much for our sanity, it's shocking!
What I don't understand though, is why he can ignore us all day, and then not do so when we are trying to get to sleep at night as well. I tried to explain this to him once, and to be perfectly honest, I still get a little flutter of surprise every time I remember that I am still alive. The others thought Kai's reaction was vaguely amusing. I… well you don't want to know what I thought. Let's just say that was the closest I have ever got to slapping him so hard he has a permanent hand print.
For all of you confused souls who have no idea of how Kai responds to USUAL questions, this may be an eye-opener. Here are some examples…
"Kai, could you pass me the pepper?"
"Hn." He continues to sit there, doing nothing.
"Please?" I try, I really do.
Kai gets up and walks out of the room. Does not pass me the pepper.
"Morning Kai, sleep well?"
An innocent question don't you agree?
"Whatever."
Isn't he the cheerful one in the morning? He was about ten metres away when I muttered under my breath.
"Nice to see you too!"
He heard that.
"What was that?"
My life, I can see my life, it's dancing in front of my eyes.
"Nothing."
Please save me!
"It sure sounded like you were saying something to me." Normally I would rejoice at hearing him string enough words together to string a sentence. But right now is neither the time nor the place.
"Well I wasn't."
"Hn."
His crimson eyes burned into mine and a frown wrinkled his forehead. Then he rolled his eyes and walked out. I stuck out my tongue at his back even though I knew it was childish. He froze in his steps, leaving just enough time for my heart to coat itself in ice, before walking on.
"Hey Kai, what are you reading?"
"Go away."
"Oh come on, it was just a simple…"
"Don't make me repeat myself!"
"Fine!" People really shouldn't talk to me like that. I proceed to call him as many insulting names as I can think of. In my head. Whilst walking away.
So there we go. That is our sociable, loving, caring, generous and happy captain. I feel that I should add that if that's how he talks to me, you should see how he treats the others. Ray is an exception: he has some tolerance for Ray and perhaps a little respect for Kenny and Hilary. But Hilary goes without saying, as she is responsible for hitting Tyson every time he so much as attempts to do anything stupid.
I arrived in the kitchen at the very moment the kettle boiled. I threw two slices of bread into the toaster and poured myself a glass of water. I sat opposite the emotionless Kai and ignored him, so well that I didn't notice him open his mouth to speak.
"Nate."
I mean after all, I have every right to act as though he doesn't exist. He knows that I do not like mornings. He knows that I especially do not like early mornings, and yet he still does what he does! Jerk! Oh look the jerk's lips are moving, I think he is trying to say something. By all the wonders on Earth he is!
"Anyone home?"
Somehow, I think I may have missed something. Either that or he has finally lost it. Both ideas seem reasonable enough.
"Nate! What is wrong with you?"
I caught that bit. I blink once, then again in comprehension.
"Um, ahh, well, maybe, what sorry?"
Good God, I need to learn to string words together in the mornings, and fast! He appears to be rolling his eyes and opening his mouth to say something again.
"Whatever."
Was that it? Really?
"Is that all?" My mouth worked without me, hmm, that has never happened before. His eyebrows have risen and he looks a tad amused.
"You are not a morning person." By this point I had given up thinking, and just accepted that my brain was not going to function properly until around noon.
"No." Simple sentences are the way forward for me now.
"Hn." And Kai can't even manage that apparently.
"So what are we all doing today?" I really do want to know. The whole of the blading world has been dragged to Austria for what Mr Dickenson is calling a 'bonding experience,' and what Hiro is calling a 'painful experience.' Mainly because he doesn't think any of us are going to survive a whole week in each other's company. The Allstars are here, the White Tigers, Blitzkrieg Boys, –sadly- Barthez Battalions, Justice 5, F-Dynasty, The Majestics – why, we don't know- and us, The Bladebreakers.
"I don't know."
"Mr Dickenson hasn't even told you then?"
"No."
"I reckon we are all in for a hell of a surprise, if he won't even tell you."
"You may be right."
"Could be funny…"
"How?"
"Watching everyone's reactions when he finally gets around to telling us. He can't possibly please everyone."
"Hn. Maybe."
My toast popped up, and I stood up to collect it, when my hand jerked upwards knocking over my mug of water.