My first Beyblade fic, be nice. R&R

Warning this fic contains Yaoi. Slash. M/M relationships. Suicide and cursing. Mainly Kai/Tyson
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Disclaimer: Don't own Beyblade.

Fall of the Mighty

He had already lost his parents at an early age. He had photos but no memories. 

He had suffered in an orphanage and several foster families. He had to many memories of that. 

And then he was taken in by his grandpa. He had great memories of him.

And now he had lost him. His grandfather. 

All that he held close and loved was taken away from him. Again and again.

It wasn't fair, but life wasn't meant to be fair. 

Just as it wasn't fair that his grandfather had to die in such a dishonourable way. His life taken away by a drunken man, who was stupid enough to drive. 

His grandfather hadn't felt a thing, he died instantly. With out a fight. With out knowing what had hit him.

Quick and painless.

Dishonourable death for a warrior as his grandfather was. An unfair death. An unnatural death. 

Tyson stared at the ground, the ceremony was long over but he still stood there. He hadn't moved, he hadn't reacted to anyone. His indigo eyes were locked on the fresh grave before him. He didn't see the looks of concern and pity. He just didn't care.

Why should he? Life took everything he loved. Fate and Destiny screwed him over and over. And the Gods? Well for he cared the gods go fuck them selves and die.

He fucking didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered. His family, his crazy grandfather was all he had. His grandfather gifted him with memories that overlapped those from his time in the orphanage and foster parents. Right now , those happy memories where no where in sight.

They died with his grandfather, along with his spirit to fight. He was empty, he felt empty.

"Tyson?"

He twisted his head to see who had addressed him, it was Ray. Wonder what he wants, he's probably is worried. Lifting his brow he indicated the Chinese boy to continue.

"Are you all right?"

The indigo haired boy narrowed his smoky blue eyes, they darkened in anger and frustration, out of pain and suffering in an almost black looking shade of blue.

"Do I look that to you?" The holder of Dragoon spat.  Ray winced at the words, they where spoken to him in such a cold way it made him shiver. He could hear the suppressed rage in them, the pain and loss as well.

"I'm so--"  He was cut off.

"I don't want you're excuses, I don't want you sympathy or pity. I don't need you comforting me." Tyson spoke to the feline like boy. "Just leave."

Ray blinked, this wasn't Tyson. 

"Tyson.." 

"Leave now, Ray. Just fucking leave me alone." Violet blue eyes turned from cold to sad and pleading. "I'll be back home soon." 
Deciding that the younger boy needed some time alone , he left him standing at the grave.  

Tyson stood there for another hour before he broke the silence. "Guess I died as well, I guess the Tyson who appeared when I came to you has died along with you as you disappeared. My mask has broken for good this time, Grandpa. And this time there's no one here to pick up the pieces." 

He closed his eyes for a moment, and when he reopened them they were different. Those former round childish eyes where sharp and calculating. The big goofy smile was a thin line on his face, the whole attitude had made a 180 degrees turn. It was the demeanour of someone who had seen to much for their age.

And he had seen to much. He even had been subjected to these things. He had the scars to prove it.

Tyson left the cemetery, leaving his grandfather and his shattered masks behind. He had not seen the crimson eyes that watched him leave.