title; almost lover
fandom beyblade; tyson/kai
rating; light r?
disclaimer; claiming that i own absolutely nothing, beyblade's all copyright to the man who created it (meaning i can't remember his name for the life of me atm) and the lyrics are copyright to their respective owners, not claiming anything except this lil' tidbit of writing, don't worry. TyKa's already so canon i wouldn't need to do anything should i get a hold of the series. /wink
summary; "I'm… not sure, Tyson. Not sure of what I am, who I am."
He tilted his head slightly, lips quirked peacefully at the edges. "So you're my almost lover then, Kai?"
uh, yeah so I recently got back into the fandom. Jeez, I mean, this is another fandom I suppose I'll always stay true to. I've been into it since I was seven or eight. And that's like, six or seven years. I've grown with this series, and I've damned well always loved it. So I'm not really surprised I'd come around writing something eventually. And come on, all you out there, TyKa is so canon it hurts. You can't see that something at least, is there, and you're quite blind. No offense meant of course, only pointing out the glaringly obvious. Anyway, well, yeah I always supposed that Kai would be a little frail and easily broken underneath that tough façade, he's got it hard, poor guy. I mean, abused in all ways that one, so here's sort of, my very short take on of Kai's emotions regarding Tyson, or Takao, or whatever. I felt it easier to call him Tyson here though, it'll take a while before I can truly think of him as Takao, haha. Anyway, enjoy!
"your fingertips across my skin, the palm trees swaying in the wind…"
–a fine frenzy; almost lover
He's standing by the ocean, clutching a jagged seashell in his palm, the softened edges digging into the stretched skin almost painfully at one point. He's different, definitely different, from before. He's dressed in swimming trunks and a black tank top, his hair is pulled back and slightly damp, his lips coated with salt and sea. He's thinking that despite that his heart is as fiery as a phoenix's feathers, he'll always return to the sea.
And he stands there, and remembers. Because if there's something that Hiwatari Kai does good, it's reminiscing. It's what he's good at, along with being an 'almost' and a 'maybe' sort of person. He's too easily swept away, like a stranded sailor clinging to the remains of his ship. And even though he never allowed himself to feel, he was swept away, by tides. Strong, emotional tides, Tyson.
There's a smile kicking up the corners of his lips slightly, and he clutches the seashell to his chest, and closes his eyes. They're bright with memory and there's slight pain lacing the edges of his irises but still he feels fine. Fine enough for these memories anyway, on a day like this. Spotless sky and bright, bright sun.
He absently digs his toes into the sand, everything washing over him. Echoes – despite its corny wording – of the past resounding in his head. He thinks that if he topples to his knees from the strength of it all, perhaps Tyson'll be there, lending a hand. He's like that, Tyson.
He remembers the first time they battled. Also the first time he lost to Tyson.
It's dusky and faded around the edges, but he will always remember it. He remembers everything about Tyson, their first few meetings; down by the bay, in the warehouse, on the streets, in Tyson's family's dojo, in Bey City's beystadium. They are bright, loud, bruising his thoughts and emotions, but he'd never be fazed by it. He welcomes the figurative purple bruises, needs them. Needs Tyson to punch some sense into him every once in a while. There is a quirk of lips now, hitching a step higher, turning truer.
He remembers the texture of Tyson's adolescent voice, his casual manner of speech and his tilting accent. Kai'll always remember Tyson's voice, that's something he'll never forget. He won't be able to, and he'd never want to. He remembers how he sounds when he's upset, when he's thrilled, when he's intrigued, when he's bored, when he's mad, when he wants attention and when he wants to forget about it. He knows how Tyson sounds breathy, and when he's calm. He's like an ocean, Tyson, sometimes he's eerily still, but mostly there's always some activity going on.
There's more to it though. Their first year together.
He remembers how it feels to be psychologically poisoned, the kicks and punches of power straight to the gut. Remembers the blackness and burnt and dirty texture of Black Dranzer under his fingertips, feels the power tickle his fingertips, his mind, his senses, his thoughts. Jesus, it was in his head, Kai remembers dazedly.
And then. The soothing, healing effects of reality, of Tyson's scarred and calloused palms, of his voice – despite that it was frantic and scared and mad and upset and just Tyson – as he screamed at Kai to take his hand. He remembers the cold of Moscow, of the Abbey and of the ice fracturing underneath his shoes. He remembers how it brought him back, finally, how he reached for Tyson, how he came back.
And he remembers being so proud, so infinitely proud, of Tyson when he beat Tala in the finals. It's a taste on his tongue so much better than that Black Dranzer could ever provide him with. The feeling of being part of something, something so pure, something so human and so positive. The feeling of being in on a team, of being close to people who cares.
And that's a chapter finished, but Tyson's the main character, Kai's the sidekick, so Tyson storms through the pages much the same as his Dragon's power attacks do. Another notch on his smile, now there's a fondness tracing the pale, curved line of his lips.
Then there's so much but still so little. He goes off, quits blading, goes off to school. He's always been academically clever, though he hasn't a clue on people. But that's okay; he supposes even today, he's picked some things up along the way. He's conscious in a way he hasn't been before, but is still considered a somewhat novice in some areas.
No matter, because memories won't judge him, but he'll judge the memories.
He remembers Wyatt and how he wanted to blade Kai so badly. Reminded him of Tyson and it annoyed him how Wyatt wasn't Tyson. He was Wyatt with the brown hair and the matching eyes, the schooled in place typical urban accent with a sprinkle of formality of the old families. Kai had wanted to forget, but Wyatt was there and annoyed him and finally he snapped. He'd wanted to tell him how no one but Tyson got to annoy him and battle him and fasten himself by Kai's side. But he'd simply told him to piss off, because that's Kai for you and he's not into sociology like that.
He remembers everything about it. The memories aren't quite as faded as the first ones, but they're beginning to weaken too. Leave room for new ones to be made, Kai's new memories.
But he can still taste the damp forest that night, can taste the tightness in Tyson's coiled muscles when he'd encountered him in battle. Can still see Tyson having grown in the months they'd been apart. Vivid, right there in front of his eyes.
They go through so much that year, battle on and on and it never seems to end, Tyson's always the last to battle and there's some sort of significance in that that he recognized even back then, but never knew the true meaning of until know.
And then there was Wyatt dying and how he blamed himself for that one. But Tyson's fierce in his protectiveness, in how he regards Kai, how he squeezed his shoulder straight through the skin and flesh and tugged Kai into a half sort of embrace that he awkwardly didn't know how to respond to. He's just that, messily broken and pieced together and he felt fractured. Felt it in the way Tyson held him and rubbed his palms over Kai's back, how his gloved palm only met the rough fabric of Kai's shirt and the probing spinal cords underneath. Felt it in how he shook like a frozen to the marrow man meeting warmth for the first time in a very long while, revelled in how he knew Tyson could feel his bones rattling underneath his all too pale skin but said nothing. How he had continued to hold onto Kai as though he was the only weak link back to life on earth that he had. How he silently, translucently asked Kai to be strong for him, to take as much he wanted, if he could only promise to hold on for Tyson.
Even today, he supposes that no matter what his answer might have been that day, he didn't really have a choice.
"But can't you see that, when I find you, I find me…"
–joshua radin feat. maria taylor; when you find me
The third significant part of his life that holds Tyson high up on the list of roles stings. It stings because Kai can be everything and nothing in front of Tyson, and the only thing he asks for in return is that Kai is strong for him, and stays with him.
But there was once again this pull of the blackness, the ash and coal and burnt smoke tugged on him again. Because as he remembers it today he remembered then how Tyson's always defeated him, in everything. In beyblading, in being a good person, in being a person, in staying loyal, in loving, in being himself, in everything. Kai suspects Tyson breathes easier than he does too. Probably, because he's not Kai and Kai would never wish that on anyone, despite what people may think of him. He's not that heartless, despite who's his guardian and his parents and who was the first Hiwatari.
And so he betrayed Tyson. Along with Max and Rei who would've also felt that tug. Probably not the first time they'd felt it either. But he thought Tyson would be okay. Had to cling to that thought. That he'd be okay with Kenny and Hilary and Daichi there, and his big brother to coach them.
The emotional blow that initially came after that blew over eventually. But Tyson's Tyson, and he's always been. So he dug up the wounds again, pouring thick flakes of salt into them and ranting about loyalty and how could you Kai and his voice was a green, roaring sea who took him under, he tried to swim in confusion and betrayal and hurt but drowned.drowned.drowned.
Until he found himself and managed to hang onto that cold indifference that was Kai, because he never understood Tyson and his emotions that good. He managed to keep up the annoyance and arrogance in his tone, but Tyson saw, because he always saw those things that Kai didn't want him to see.
Only, he wanted Tyson to see now. He didn't want to betray him, but the pull was tugging on him now, the smoke and burnt out fire and Tyson had asked him silently, silently in Kai's dreams where the fire had gone off to. And Kai saw Black Dranzer rise from the ashes and he couldn't answer, and he awoke sweaty and clammy with hair draped to his cheeks and his nails digging into his palms.
But of course, what Kai wanted Tyson to see, Tyson didn't see.
They advanced in the finals. And finally, there was them again. Facing off, and suddenly, the tug just perished. As though it'd been a lung disease he could finally breathe out. And there they were, battling because they were equals and Tyson laughed and was thrilled and Kai felt the same. They battled because Tyson finally understood, and he'd reached out again, pulling Kai from the thin ice and pulled him against his chest. They battled because Tyson loved it and Kai loved Tyson.
And for what felt like eternity passing and looping in circles around them they lay on the still beach looking up at star constellations and moons and planets. And Kai felt complete.
Of course, he was still so proud when Tyson won over him. So fully proud and sated, that he simply walked from the scene where everybody congratulated Tyson for the third time claim of the Champion title. He understood, because Tyson saw things, maybe finally for the first saw them when Kai actually wanted him to see them.
And Kai went away briefly, again. But he left a letter and a phone number, and directions. At least to Tyson, trusted that he'd put them to use if he so wished.
It was stupid to think that he wouldn't. Some time during the few months they were parted Tyson came around to his feelings. When he finally did, he'd told Kai, he'd just shrugged, smiled and told Kenny about it. He'd been slightly appalled at first, asking Tyson if he was really sure about the deeper bond. But Tyson, being Tyson, had only grinned and softly said that it's as though I've always known, you know?
So one day he simply appeared at the private University Kai attended, a small bag slung over his shoulder and a wide grin slung on his face. He'd loudly mused to himself why it took him so long to catch up with reality, as Kai stood rooted in the hallway, something churning and burning intently in his ribcage. He realized that he very well could've cried in that moment, could feel something alien worming through his chest, grow and twist and develop a life of its own down there.
The embrace that soon developed into a kiss was just a tentative brush of lips on Tyson's part, his eyes darting around as if to make sure no one witnessed it. But Kai was starved. He was starved emotionally and the moment Tyson's fingertips brushed his waist and Tyson's lips his; he shoved him into the nearest wall, kissing with fervour and desperation rarely put on display in him. Kai had learned since then that he only in fact displayed it for Tyson, only Tyson. He opened his mouth and kissed sloppily as he'd never done it before, and met Tyson's tongue and deep in throat moan halfway. Their teeth clicked and he pushed his baseball cap off and dug his fingers into Tyson's thick mass of blue/black hair.
They advanced to Kai's single room rather quickly. Tyson kicked the door shut with one foot before pushing Kai onto the bed, trailing his tongue down his chin and onto his pulse, leaving a thick and wet trail of saliva in his wake. And he whispered I love you over and over again into Kai's neck and shoulder and breastbone as his fingers mapped out his back and chest and midsection for all what it was worth. And Kai groaned it in between the breaths he had to suck in, clawing at whatever part he could find of Tyson to ensure that he stayed.
They broke the news rather forcibly upon the others. While Max and Hilary became a little perplexed and suspicious before they accepted it, Rei merely smiled lopsidedly at them before it morphing into a full blown, fang'd grin and exclaiming that it was about time.
After that, it was just to move on with their lives. Kai felt more complete than he'd ever felt, but still a little lost in the torrent of emotions blasting through him in every single wake. He doubted his ability to love Tyson as Tyson loved him, while Tyson just hushed him and said that he'd always know that Kai loved him, it didn't matter if he said it often or not. And that day he'd figured out that he was all maybes and almosts, he told Tyson so.
"I… Tyson, I'm… I'm not really sure of what I am, actually. I've never been able to really, find myself, you know." He gave a rather wry grin to complement, but Tyson didn't buy it. Kai hadn't counted on that he would. With growth comes late perceptiveness, and Tyson had always been sharp edged and quick when it came to Kai anyway.
"Hush, it's fine, alright?" But Kai silenced him, something desperate growing in his eyes that clamped Tyson's lips together and his jaw hastily up. "No, listen Tyson. I'm not really sure, how I'm supposed to love you. I'm, I'm like that. All almosts, I'm almost able to love you fully, almost able to win a beybattle against you, almost able to get the hang of socializing, almost everything. And you don't need that, I know you don't. You need the whole deal." Kai remembers his voice a whisper, a soft rustle of breath and wistfulness and sorrow and the whole package.
"So you're my almost lover then, Kai?" Tyson had tilted his head, smiling rather peacefully.
Kai hadn't known what to do, but he was almost there, so he tugged Tyson into a crushing embrace and held him tightly and took long drags of breath into Tyson's shoulder. Told himself that maybe, it'd be okay after all, to not being completely, complete.
And when he opens his eyes, it's to drop the seashell and look over at Tyson who's sauntered over to him with a grin on his face, tilt of his head and a question on the brink of his lips. But he clamps down on it as Kai steps closer, wounding an arm around his waist, murmuring the answer in his ear.
"Nothing, Tyson. Absolutely nothing." And Kai knows that he can trust himself on that. Because he hasn't sunk to his knees yet and Tyson's there beside him, fingers combing through some loose strands of slate blue hair by his ear, tugging him away from the sea there, to join him in their personal one.
And there's an absolute, and absolutely real smile settling in on his face in the setting twilight.