Echoes

"Tyson, I never told you to taste my food, much less eat it!" Hiromi shouted her hands rolled into fists by her sides.

"What if I did?" Tyson spat out acerbically. "Don't I have the right to say what I want?"

"Stop being so God-damn insulting! I know I can't cook, you don't have to be a jerk about it." Hiromi's voice was at the edge of breaking.

The others watched their two hot-headed team members battle in rage with resignation. Ray looked at them wearily; Kenny was pointedly avoiding eye contact; Max was trying hard to keep his attention on what Kenny was looking at on Dizzy. And Kai, he had his chair turned away from the dinner table – including everyone sitting or standing around it– and was facing the television with his forehead creased and eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. His attention was clearly directed towards the two Japanese teens, who were lashing out at each other.

Tyson gripped the table, his anger getting the better of him. "Hiromi, you're pathetic at everything except bitching at everyone! No-one here would try anything you made, much less eat it. No one!" Fuming, he marched towards the refrigerator and took out the afternoon's pasta and walked back to the table, pulling out his chair with unnecessary force so that it grated against the wooden floor.

Hiromi blinked a couple of times as Tyson finished his tirade and stormed over to the other side of the kitchen; she turned her glance away from him, pursed her lips tightly and tightened her eyes to keep tears from spilling. His word reverberated in her mind and she felt a feeling of mortification and worthlessness wash over her, she gripped the back of her chair to keep from losing her balance.

Kai turned his head to look at Hiromi. His eyebrows furrowed but her eyes were lowered towards the floor and she didn't catch his gaze.

"Hiromi –" Tyson started again in a derisive voice, but he was cut off.

"That's enough, Tyson," Kai warned, scowling. He had turned his chair so that he was facing the table and his teammates instead of the television. The redhead on the news channel continued reading out sports updates.

"Yeah, defend her, like you always do," The navy haired blader spat out looking up from his pasta at his captain. "I know you agree with me, you just don't have the guts to say it out loud."

Hiromi flinched and sat down on her chair and began looking down, not wanting to face any of her teammates.

"Tyson –" Kai's voice was lethal now, his eye's were getting that maniacal look he got in certain battles with Dranzer's flames igniting in them. His actual irises were probably going bloodshot behind the violet contacts, giving his sullen face an even stonier edge.

The rest of the team incisively avoided eye-contact with the two world champions. Hiromi looked from one to the other helplessly, wanting for them to just let it go. A part of her, in reaction to Tyson's words, wanted to get up and run away but she didn't want to embarrass herself anymore and neither did she want anyone else sympathizing with her. Her hands tightened into balls under the table, not wanting to break down in front of any of them.

"So you disagree with me? Huh?" Tyson spat at Kai. "Why haven't you tried –" He paused when he turned to Kai's plate. In midst of the argument that he and Hiromi had been having, Kai had— before turning to watch the news — somehow finished his entire helping of Hiromi's food…whatever it was that she had cooked, he hadn't actually bothered asking. His mouth closed mechanically and he continued glaring at his plate, there wasn't anything more he could say.

Kai kept staring at the back of Kenny's laptop, without responding to Tyson's words or Hiromi's questioning look. He wasn't going to harass her like Tyson was. Tyson was just being plain mean and wretched…out of line, as always; he was probably upset about something else and was taking it out on Hiromi. Sure the food didn't taste all that good – actually it had tasted repulsive on Kai's tongue— but she was his friend, he cared for her far more than the temporary displeasure of his taste buds. If eating something she had cooked after such a long time of no attempts would make her happy; sure he could do it. He wouldn't compliment her; it would be lying. And he didn't have the nerve to praise anyone for anything; he wasn't that open with anyone, not even Hiromi. But the gesture of eating and keeping in her vile concoction was something he could do, and it would show how much he cared.

He squeezed his eyes shut in aggravation, took his fork and spoon in his hands and gripped them tightly in attempts to calm himself. He stared at the empty white plate in front of him, irritated, not so much at Tyson's words anymore, but the despondency on Hiromi's face. How highly she regarded Tyson's malicious outbursts annoyed him; he couldn't stop her from caring for his opinion, just like he couldn't stop his own self from caring.

Kai was cursing himself; he probably shouldn't have waited that long to interfere, for Tyson to get back some sense. Now Hiromi probably thought that he pitied her, which was not the case at all. He cared for her and didn't want her feelings to get hurt – ever, and that was the only reason he had eaten the food she had made and why he stood up for her.

Tyson had stopped speaking, his anger had cooled down towards sulking and moping and he was looking into his plate, at the leftovers from lunch. Kai had eaten the whole damned plate she had given him? He found it hard that, and Kai's devotion and fondness towards the girl who had cooked it, hard to believe. Guilt welled up inside of him and his eyes shifted to peek at Hilary and Kai only to notice that they were looking away from him…more pointedly, away from each other. He felt his mouth go bitter at the remorse that began washing through him and he tried hard to focus on the pasta in front of him but the sour taste in his mouth made the perfectly fine pasta taste worse than Hiromi's food.

The others were cautiously watching the news and not looking at Tyson, Hilary or Kai. Their plates were completely untouched; they had tasted the food, but unlike Tyson, they hadn't been discourteous towards the chef. But neither did they, like Kai, had the willpower or the devotion to choke down the contents of their plates.

Hiromi was careful not to catch anyone's eye, particularly Kai's; she was mad at Tyson, but was mortified by the very idea of facing Kai right then. Hiromi had never asked Kai to do anything, neither had she asked Tyson to try it and then insult her; Kai did it at his own will, just like he always gave her efforts a chance, despite them not being flawless, just like her MG Core schedule. She could see from her half lidded eyes that the rest of her teammates were avoiding eye contact with her; she appreciated that. She didn't want to let Tyson get to her but his words were too cutting at times to ignore. She knew she should be grateful for the encouragement by the others but it was hard to do so, when Tyson was so brash.

She raised her eyes at sound of someone getting up noisily: it was Tyson. Through the cover of her now-longer-than-before bangs, Hiromi watched as he had let go of his chopsticks— they hit the table with a thud— and getting out of his chair, he marched his way outside.

Sitting there at the table with everyone's – minus Kai's – attention directed towards her, she couldn't take it any longer. Slowly, she got up. Kai's hand extended to grab hers, to pull her back, but he drew it back half-way, letting her make her escape somewhat inconspicuously.

A look from Kai made the others banish every thought of following the maroon-eyed girl as she made her way upstairs. When she got near the staircase, the tears finally began to spill from her eyes. Not wanting anyone to see her tears she began rushing up the steps, looking down once to see the back of Kai's two-toned head in the kitchen; she made a mental note to thank him and tell him how much she appreciated him always being there for her. But only when she was more composed – and when he was too. And with that final glance at Kai, she preceded upstairs, her mind no longer so much disconcerted at Tyson's words but much more confused— yet grateful— for Kai's behavior; someone cared and it meant that she wasn't really wasting her time.


Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade. :P

Hmm, this idea just popped in my mind while I was writing a three shot two weeks ago, and I just had to write it down. xD Couldn't publish it, 'cause Dead-bY-n0w was busy with exams and couldn't beta. :P Thank you so much to her for beta-ing. ;)

Thank you to Kawaii-Chibi-Kai, Selene Atar, cakg123, Dead-bY-n0w and Moonlight Serenity for reviewing my last one shot Confessions. Thank you to all those who read and faved it as well. :)

Hmm. I've been dwelling quite into angst since summer started, minus Job Interviews, I haven't written anything humorous. It just came to me all of a sudden. Weird. :P And the three shot I've written which I just need to edit and then send to be beta-d, is pretty angst too.

I guess I have been pretty pissed, and pretty upset lately. Thank God my sister goes back to her own house tonight, she successfully made every attempt to ruin my life in the three unfortunate days she was here. *sigh*

Anyways, please review. I'm beginning to lose faith in the Beyblade fandom, I mean it has been dead for ages, but I think even the remains have begun to decay now. I've been obsessed with Sasuke X Sakura lately. xD I'm enjoying the ninja-ness. lol That fandom is so much more alive, I feel like I'm abandoning KaiHil, but there is nothing left there to abandon. -_- Oh well, KaiHil will always be my OTP, I'm just distracting myself with SasuSaku till Beyblade gets a bit life back. *sigh*

Anyways, enough of my ranting, please r and r. :)

06:30 p.m. 19th June, 2012.