A little, slightly introspective piece about the nature of the friendship between Kai and Ray. One-shot.

JuniperGentle does not own Beyblade.


Impossibility

It was impossible to share a room with someone for nearly two years and not learn something about them.

But it wasn't until Tyson cornered Ray with the pleading question "So what does Kai want for his birthday?" that the phoenix's room-mate realised just how much he did – and didn't – know.

For example, Ray couldn't tell you what Kai wanted for his birthday. In fact, he couldn't tell you with any degree of certainty when said birthday was; the conversation had just never come up.

He also couldn't tell you the name of Kai's favourite band, the most recent book he'd read, even what film he'd last seen at the cinema.

He couldn't tell you if the markings on Kai's face were permanent or not, mostly due to the phoenix going to bed much later than him. Thinking about it, Ray realised he probably should know, but after a moment decided he didn't really care that much. After all, this was Kai they were talking about.

He couldn't tell you what Kai had spent his last £20 on, unless it was spare beyblade parts, and he couldn't tell you if Kai had any secret crushes; not that he would tell you even if he did know.

He couldn't tell you Kai's mobile number, and if you asked would probably give you a look that said "And why would you WANT to know?" before politely taking his leave.

He couldn't tell you who the last person to call Kai had been, though he could give a pretty good guess if you told him the time – anything after midnight meant Russians.

He certainly couldn't tell you where Kai went when he disappeared.

But Ray could tell you that black socks went on the left hand side of the drawer and grey on the right, and that any upset in this order was met (mostly) with a long-suffering look and a large helping of extra practice for the guilty party, whoever they might be. He could tell you that Kai always knew who said party was.

He could tell you what Kai did with his fan-mail every morning – target practice for Blazing Gig. Ray used to add his own letters to the pile, until Kai noticed the dramatic increase and actually read the address on one of them. Ray hurriedly removed the incriminating letters and rolled them up into a ball for Driger to play with.

Books tended to come in plural form, though visits to the library were rare. Hours spent reading said books, however, tended to be singular at best. Ray wasn't really sure why this was.

He could tell you that cake would only be touched if it was of the lemon or carrot varieties, and that coffee or tea just didn't taste right if they weren't Fair-trade. Biscuits were out, and that was final.

He could tell you that six in the morning really wasn't a bizarre time to find your room-mate absent, and that a return before eleven at night meant something was probably badly wrong.

He could tell you that, in terms of who got to shower first, phoenixes trumped tigers every time. However, they did heat the water up considerably, which was a blessing.

He could also tell you that nobody touched the scarf.

Clothes had to be "function before form", though somehow Kai managed to get away with both. The scarf fell into neither category - and was therefore both.

Preferred animals were probably phoenixes or cats, though Ray wasn't quite sure about this.

Sleep and food were considered necessary only in so far as to provide energy towards the main driving force of Kai's life.

And Ray really didn't have a clue what that drive was.

Tyson thought it was him, Tyson – the challenge, trying to be the best, to beat the best.

Max thought it was to do with proving himself to himself, trusting his own opinions and power after so long spent proving himself to others and relying on the opinions of a certain other.

Personally, Ray thought it was something to do with making it up to Dranzer after abandoning the fire-bird in Russia.

But whatever it was, Kai wasn't saying.

Which left Ray once again in the awkward position of being the person who, by knowing the most about Kai, knew he actually knew nothing at all.