Authors note: Well this is my first Beyblade fanfiction, I hope you will like the first chapter! PLEASE REVIEW!;))

Disclaimer: I do not know any of the original characters. I only own my OCs and my plot.

Behind the wall of sleep

Chapter 1: A different tomorrow

The door was opened with a load bang, and for a brief moment a glint of artificial light lit up the grayish stone walls. Then a screaming heap of legs and arms was thrown inside, and the door locked. I could hear the guard fumble with a key outside, as I once again stared into the black emptiness that had been my home for the last twelve hours. The other boy had started crying, and sobbed quietly for himself, in the corner the farthest from where I sat. He was afraid of me, and I did not blame him. Everyone was afraid of me, the infamous Kai Hiwatari, the toughest blader around, the one individual even Boris Balkov feared to some extent.

I had not grown up here, in this hell hole of a place that most people referred to as the Abby. No, I had been placed here when I was six, too late in Boris's opinion, but despite this I had quickly become the strongest. My grandfather was of course pleased, and thus I had learned to hate him. He was the one who had put me here, away from the judging eyes of the world, in a place where I was trained under the watchful eyes of Boris Balkov. Trained to become the best beyblader there was. Did I want this? No, not by any means, but I had quickly discovered that being the best had its advantages. No one picked on me, I received less torture than the others, and as my powers grew they had learned to fear me. Even Boris was now afraid, and this delighted me. I could play with him, frighten him, I had power, and this I liked. He was afraid of me partly because I was strong and fast, effective, because he knew I could easily kill him without breaking a sweat, with or without Dranzer. But most of all he was afraid because he could not figure me out, because he did not understand me.

To be honest I don't think anyone did, not even I myself. Then again this was not something that really interested me, nothing got my interest. The other boy's sobbing got louder as I shifted, and I could literarily smell his fear. He probably though I was going to hurt him, and although he did not know that I would never do such a thing, I saw no reason to tell him this. I fought and terrorized to survive, not for fun. In the beginning I had been afraid, week and vulnerable, but this was long ago, I was older now, more experienced, and I knew that to get what I wanted I had to be harsh. Once again the door was opened, and artificial light illuminated the room from outside. This time though, there were no harsh words or mean guards. I gracefully got to my feet and exited the room, lazily stretching my body. Boris was standing outside, but I ignored him. He meant nothing. Three guards gathered behind me as I started walking, knowing where to go. I had been placed in isolate because I had killed a guard, and they where afraid, so they kept there distance. It was rather stupid really, and I probably should not have allowed my anger to take over. He had spied on me in the shower, and thus I had killed him, broken his neck with a swift punch.

I walked on, hands in my jeans pockets, my movements elastic and relaxed, like a predator. The air was loaded with tension, mostly from the guards, but also from Boris. He knew why I had killed the guard, which was why he had only given me twelve hours in isolate, instead of two days plus torture. Had it been someone else, anyone else actually, the punishment would have been far worse. But no one dared to punish me harshly, because they knew there would be consequences. Then there was also Boris, he was very possessive of me, he wanted me, and this I exploited. I never gave him anything, but all the same I knew with certainty that his punishments would never get harsh enough to leave even the smallest scar. He loved me and feared me, a good combination I reflected, smirking slightly at the thought. I was pretty sure that had I not taken care of that guard myself, Boris would have. I could hear his soft breath right behind me, but I ignored him, even when he walked up beside me. "Would you please join me in my office?" He requested, his voice more questioning than demanding. I only shrugged in response.

Instead I gave my answer by stopping in front of the elevator, patiently waiting for him to press his hand against the security panel so the door would open. He did so, and we all entered the elevator, a slight jolt running through it as it started moving. Boris's office was located on a higher level than where I and the other boys were held, a nicer level, with windows and fresh air. Of course the air conditioning made sure it the air was always cool and comfortable, but it was not the same as breathing the air from outside. I would always savor the hours spent training in the forest, or the times I was called to Boris's office. Savor them for later, when I was forced to return to the underground complex. And then, in the darkness of the night, before I went to sleep, I would remember all the sensations of being outside, of smelling the fresh air and hearing the wind in the grass. The elevator stopped with another jolt, and I exited, Boris in front of me, and the guards right behind me. We walked on, rounded a couple of corners before Boris stopped in front of an elegant oak door.

He opened the door and allowed me to enter, ordering the guards to wait outside. I dumped down in one of the chairs before his desk, not waiting for his approval. As expected he did not say anything, he merely took his seat on the other side of the desk. " I am afraid your time here has come to an end", Boris suddenly said, watching me with a combination of sadness and melancholy. I merely stared at him, seemingly unmoved although I for once found myself curious as to what he would say next. "Your grandfather wants you to return home", he said, looking for a reaction from me, although he knew that he would not get one. "He will come and get you in the morning". I did not say anything, I merely nodded, before silently getting up, leaving his office without a word. I could feel his disappointment; feel how I had just crushed his hope. He had hoped, prayed, that I would show at least a small sign of regret at leaving him, but I did not. I hated him, and waves of deep satisfaction flowed through me as I could feel his despair. I was sixteen, and for ten years he had trained me, ten years of a life I would have spent in an entirely different way, given the choice. No, he deserved to suffer, and I knew he would.

I felt strange as I curled up to sleep that night. My bed was by no means luxurious, but Boris had, as always, favored me, and thus I had a pillow, a mattress and two blankets. The other boys had one blanket, and they would normally sleep on the floor. I wondered what it would be like, seeing the outside world again. Already now I knew that I would never fit in there, I was too different. Yet it did not bother me, all I wanted was to get out of here, to be able to go outside, to be independent, and to do exactly what I wanted. Of course my freedom would be limited. My grandfather had some sort of plan for me, of this I was certain, there was no other reason for him to finally come and get me. After all I had not seen him for eight years, so I was pretty certain that it was not because of love he was coming. Then again I did not care either way. I was going away from the Abby; that was all which mattered.

When I awoke the next morning it was with anticipation. I dressed and showered as I would normally do, but I used more time that I used to. My clothes where new too. Washed out, blue jeans, a blue polo shirt and white Nike shoes. I studied myself in the mirror afterwards, relatively pleased with my appearance. I was tall and athletic, muscular, with mahogny eyes and a handsome face. My hair was a pale grey in the front, and dark blue in the back. The blue shark fin tattoos on each cheek gave me an almost dangerous look, which I liked. It felt good to wear normal clothes for once too. I did not like my usual training outfits. Not because they where ugly or uncomfortable, but because I had to wear them. Because someone else had decided that I could not wear anything else. I ran my hand testily through my hair, brushing it away from my face. It was still wet from the shower, and small drops of water dripped down on my polo shirt. I was not nervous or afraid; I was exited, partly because I would be able to live a somewhat normal life again, and partly because I would see my grandfather. I hated him, of course I did. Yet I was exited, because I knew that he could give me what I wanted.

And what did I want? Of this I was not sure, all I knew was that I would not find it here. No, to find what I wanted, to find a purpose, I would have to look elsewhere. Then again I hated the Abby, and thus any other place would be preferable anyway. I exited the shower area, ignoring the shy glances the other boys kept stealing at me as I passed them. They wanted me too, but I had made sure that they where too afraid to do anything but steal a glance now and then. Sometimes I did not allow that either, and this was when things would get brutal. It was a necessary task, to make sure that their fear would not disappear, to show them that I would not get soft. I shook my head a little, struggling to get rid of old memories. Boris was waiting for me in his office, and I found my usual chair, ignoring his presence completely. He had those awful red glasses on again, probably to avoid showing his weakness to my grandfather, his boss. Naturally he did not want Voltaire Hiwatari to know that he had a crush on his grandson.

Moment later the door opened. Boris is on his feet immediately, sending me an intent glance. He wants me to stand up as well, to show respect. I do stand up, but I take my time, making it clear that I had not really intended to do so. And then I slowly turn around, meeting the gaze of the man I have hated with all my heart since that fateful day when I was six years old. Our eyes lock, my mahogny orbs clashing with his grey ones. He is pleased with my appearance, but also intrigued by my lack of fear. Despite this he did make me a little uneasy, restless almost. He nodded at Boris, before he took his leave, expecting me to follow. I obeyed, excitement running through me as my new life begins. This is it, the day I have been waiting for, this would be a new beginning for me, and as I step outside, walking up to my grandfathers limousine, I know that my life will forever be changed.