This is another one that came from absolutely nowhere.
I was re-watching Beyblade on Youtube, and I suddenly felt inspired to write this little story. This is set pre-Beyblade, somewhere in Tala's past, and there are no pairings. Oh, and thank you Beeku for correcting a small error involving Kai's dialect.
His name meant, "stalking wolf."
At the age of ten, Tala Ivanov was living up to his name's meaning.
Physically, he looked similar to a wolf; his crimson hair stuck out from the sides of his head in the shape of wolf ears, as some said in hushed whispers when he passed by (the residents of the abbey had long since learned to avoid saying it in his presence). But it was his eyes that struck terror into the hearts of those around him. The piercing, ice-blue orbs were colder than all the ice and snow that surrounded them.
If his eyes were not fearsome enough, it was his anger that sent most scurrying for cover. Tala did not bother holding his emotions back whenever he lost his temper; he had even snapped at Boris more than once. He was ferocious in his wrath and everyone quickly learned to stay on his good side.
Tala truly was a wolf.
He had survived so much in his short lifetime...his father had served as an Russian soldier but after he had gotten cast out of the army he became a drunk. His mother had a weak spirit, as was demonstrated by her act of abandoning her five year old son with his abusive sire. He had to steal to survive, his father spending every penny on alchohol. Finally, Boris, the owner of the abbey, had spotted him and had ushered him into its stoic walls.
He only knew one other person in the entire building, but he rarely saw the lilac haired boy answering to the name of Brian anymore. Boris was not a fan of the abbey occupants having friends.
This evening, Tala was wandering the corridors restlessly; Boris had forbidden them all to leave the abbey without his permission. He could not really complain about his situation—it certainly was better than living on the streets. But at times the confinement of the cold walls would get to him and he would pace within their boundaries. He had an independent streak in him, and it was in these moods that people would especially avoid Tala.
He muttered darkly to himself as he recalled the 'lesson' from earlier that evening. Boris had made every student grab onto a bar that hung from the ceiling and stay there; if one of them let go, the entire abbey would go without dinner. And sure enough, they had all performed the task, as willing as sheep.
Well, almost everyone.
Tala smirked in amusement. He had never been one for following leaders blindly, so when Boris had kicked the stool out from underneath him he'd let go almost immediately. Landing on the ground with ease, he watched calmly as the rest of the room burst out in outraged squawks before silencing them all with one of his trademark glares and a growl. He had not even waited for Boris to announce,"No dinner."
They probably all hated him now, if they hadn't already; they would be letting him know about that fact fairly soon. He rolled his eyes—like he cared what anybody thought about him; he just wanted to be left alone. Forget what they thought—they were all idiots anyway.
Someone bumped into him, and Tala started, a snarl escaping his throat. His eyes searched for the offending person and landed on the small boy at his feet. The child seemed to be at least a year younger than him, his mahogany eyes startled at the sight of the bristling redhead above him. He had two-toned blue hair, the back an indigo-black and the front a blue-gray, that spread in soft spikes around his face and into his eyes.
As he watched, the almost crimson orbs lost their startled look and boldened. "Baka," said the strange boy at last, his eyes looking into Tala's as he picked himself up.
Tala blinked. "What?" he snapped, grabbing the boy by the collar of his shirt and lifting him into the air.
The other boy glared. "Hana se, baka," replied the child coldly, grasping at Tala's hands.
"What is going on here?"
Tala turned in time to spot Boris and another gentleman round the corner, and he threw the child to the ground roughly. He said nothing, eyeing them coldly.
Boris had an annoyed look on his face, his purple hair seeming to bristle with indignation. The other gentleman, who appeared to be much older than even Boris, merely watched Tala with the same bored look that he was sure his own face had on it. "You would do well to leave my grandson alone," he said coldly in carefully enunciated Russian. Clearly, the gentleman was not from the country.
He said something in a sharp voice to the boy beside Tala in that strange language and the child replied sullenly. "My grandson will be staying here in the abbey from now on. You better make sure that he remains unharmed," said the strange gentleman to Boris, but Tala was already leaving, bored of the conversation.
He rounded a corner and began to ponder over the boy's presence. He had spoken in a weird language...it certainly wasn't Russian, but it wasn't English either. What was that? One of the instructors had given a lecture on the language a little bit ago and he knew it began with a 'J'...Jalan, Jaban, Jakan...Japan. That was it—the kid was speaking Japanese.
"Chotto matte."
Tala turned and watched disinterestedly as the same boy from before walked up to stand before him. "Boku wa Kai desu," he said coolly. "O-namae wa nan desu ka?"
The redhead blinked a few times in rapid succession. "What are you saying?" he asked at last, vaguely wondering what the kid wanted. He was definitely not going to take him to the bathroom; he could soil his own pants.
The blue-haired boy sighed heavily before raising his hand to point directly at himself. "Boku wa Kai desu," he repeated slowly and emphatically. "Kai."
Tala frowned before finally understanding. "Your name's Kai?"
The child nodded firmly, his eyes meeting up with Tala's without flinching. He then pointed directly at Tala and raised a questioning brow. "O-namae wa nan desu ka?"
Hmm...kid's got a backbone...not bad. Tala smirked, faintly surprised at how closely Kai's attitude resembled his own. Then he registered what the kid was asking, and he frowned again. He didn't understand what Kai was saying—he was not Japanese.
Kai must have realized what was wrong because he pointed to himself again and said firmly, "Kai." Then he pointed back at Tala with an arched eyebrow.
He understood that immediately. "Tala."
"Tara."
"No. Tah-lah," said the redhead, frowning when Kai mispronounced his name.
"Ta-ra?"
"No. La, La. Ta-la."
"Ta...la? Tala?" Kai asked again in confirmation.
He nodded, flashing him a thumbs up. "You got it."
"Ahh, Tala, I see you found Kai," came Boris's nasal voice and both of their heads shot up. "That's good. I take it you figured out that our guest doesn't speak Russian?"
He didn't trouble himself with a reply.
"I'll go ahead and escort him to his new room. Show him around tomorrow."
"Yes, Boris," replied Tala in a civil tone.
That night, he stole a Japanese dictionary from the language room.
Kai looked around his new surroundings quietly, regarding them without saying anything. Boris was speaking very rapidly in Russian, but he had long ago tuned him out. He didn't understand a word the man was saying unless he spoke English. Kai believed that, at the moment, Boris was deliberately speaking a foreign language in an attempt to make him uneasy; so far, it was not working. The idiot must have finished his lecture, because he was leaving the room.
Good.
He set his suitcase next to his bed before flopping down on it and laying his head on the pillow. His gaze moved around the room he was in; the room was mostly bare, the only furniture being a desk, a chair, and the bed he was laying on. A single window was the only other light source in the room.
Jii-san had mentioned that he would learn how to beyblade here earlier and his eyes narrowed darkly. "Never. I'll never learn it," snarled Kai, slamming a clenched fist into the wall.
Beyblades were what had taken his father away—he had chosen those silly toys over his own flesh and blood. Kai would never forgive him for that and Jii-san wasn't off the hook either. He had made his father give Kai up. One day, Kai would get his revenge aginst the both of them.
Originally, Kai had been soft-spoken and shy around other people. He had not understood everything that had happened at the time of his father's "disappearance." But when he had been thrust into his grandfather's cruel and unforgiving world Kai had been forced to adapt. Shyness and friendliness were not tolerated; it was either kill or be killed.
And Kai soon learned to be the one behind the figurative trigger.
Kai rolled onto his back and closed his eyes tiredly. All the traveling he had done that day had exhausted him, though he would never audibly admit it, and the idea of sleeping was highly appealable to the nine-year old.
The door suddenly burst open, and he startled back into awareness. His vision focused on the redhaired boy from before. What was his name again?
"Tara—Tala?" he asked, correcting himself as he remembered the strange sounding name.
Without a word, the slightly taller boy grabbed Kai's hand and began pulling him out of the room. Kai let out a yelp in protest, but was ignored as he was dragged across the hallway and roughly shoved in a chair in front of a desk. An open book lay on the desk's surface and Tala soundlessly pointed to a word on the worn page.
Kai, in spite of himself, leaned forward and blinked as he registered what was on the paper. "'Konnichiwa'?" he read aloud in confusion, noticing the familiar characters beside what appeared to be scribbles.
"Konnichiwa," repeated Tala quietly, his eyes narrowed in concentration. He leaned over Kai's shoulder for a moment before pointing out another word in the sentence. Kai blinked again and frowned, looking up at Tala. "Tala, what—?"
The other boy tapped the page impatiently, his eyes intently boring into Kai's.
"...Dôzo yoroshiku...?" Kai said, his eyes going to the paper. "Pleased to meet you"? What's he up to?
And almost immediately, a lightbulb went off in his head.
Tala was trying to talk to him—the scribbbles next to the Japanese characters must be Russian. Kai looked up at Tala before quickly flipping through the pages and pointing to a phrase in the book. "Hajishimete," he said slowly, pronouncing each syllable slowly for his benefit.
Tala looked at the word in the book before flashing him a thumbs up and giving a small smile.
In return, Kai allowed a smile on his own face.
After the first week of Kai's presence everyone tended to avoid the new arrival, or, as they now called him, "the young phoenix"; the name had been given after the child had seemed to gain a new personality after the time spent at the abbey.
The very first day of Kai's stay Tala let loose with one of his trademark bursts of temper when some of the burlier students had ganged up on Kai. Most of them ended up in the infirmary; this was a deterrent for the rest of the students to leave Kai alone.
But as it turned out, Kai did not need Tala's supervision (and either way you looked at it, the redhead was glad for it. The last thing he wanted to do was babysit). Kai was formidable in his own right and people learned quickly what angered Kai; when they did, they made sure to not do it.
There was, however, a rather unfortunate incident involving a pencil and one of the older students, who had thought it funny to try dangling the boy upside down from the abbey tower. The older student clearly had not taken Kai seriously.
The lesson was ingrained into the victim and he always kept his now-single eye open for Kai.
Some said that Tala was and always would be the scariest figure in the abbey. Others disagreed and said that Kai could compete easily with Tala. Always they would wait for the inevitable argument between the two, watching with baited breath whenever the two passed each other. But both of them pointedly ignored each other and the viewers were baffled and disappointed.
To most watchers it would seem that, despite Tala's one-time intervention, neither of the two really cared about the other and were perfectly content if their paths never crossed.
That was the furthest thing from the truth.
When the sun went down, if one had stood in the frigid stone corridors for a short time, they might see a small shadow glide through the cold and dark hallways, his hair an almost silver hue in the flickering light of the moon through the windows. If that same person followed that shadow, they would be led through a labrynthine set of passageways before halting before a darkened doorway. They would hear a small tap, followed by the door opening silently.
For the briefest of moments, they might hear a calm and quiet, "Konban-wa, Tala."
They also might have heard a gruff voice answer back awkwardly, "Shibaraku desu ne?"
The smaller shadow would disappear into the doorway, and the sole witness to this would think it to be a dream that it had all happened.
But the two occupants inside the room knew otherwise.
Boris was not exactly tolerant of any sort of friendship; that was why he had separated Tala from Brian. As a result, the two boys had to wait until the sun had gone down before socializing with each other.
It is often said that quiet people attract quiet friends.
Such was the case of the wolf and the phoenix.
I used a lot of Japanese vocabulary, and I figured you'd want to know what they mean.
Baka: Idiot
Hanase: Let me go
Chotto matte kudasai: Wait a minute, please
Boku wa Kai desu: My name is Kai
O-namae wa nan desu ka?: What is your name?
Konnichiwa: DUH.
Hajishimete: Nice to meet you
Konban-wa: Good evening
Shibaraku desu ne?: What's up?
