He was lonely.
Most of the time, he was pretty good at hiding it… not that it was difficult. People didn't expect him to be quiet. Reserved. To hurt. He just threw on his trusty smile and revved up his cocky bravado and voila! Instant happiness facade. When he was unable to maintain the facade, he threw himself into his favorite sport of all time: Beyblading, like a bull out of the gates. It was his ultimate distraction; something he would forever be thankful for.
Ultimately, people didn't expect him to be quiet. Reserved. To hurt. Oh no, not Tyson. Proud, cocky, confident Tyson. The Bottomless Pit. Three-Time World Champ. What could he possibly have to hurt about? He had it all.
But he did. He did hurt. He was human, wasn't he? Happiness was never absolute, no matter what you had.
He hurt when his friends left him— that is to say, when they returned to their families and friends; to the people who they loved and loved them. Leaving him alone. Sure, Chief was there, just like he'd always been, but it just… wasn't the same. Max, Rei and Kai were like brothers to him— seeing as Hiro wasn't always around— and he was always so thrilled at the prospect of a new tournament: it meant he got to spend a year travelling with them. Bonding. Having the time of his life with other boys his own age.
It hurt to have to let all that, to let them, go.
He understood why they left. He understood that completely, even if his stubborn antics didn't support that. But understanding the why didn't make it any easier. He'd always kind of hoped it would.
The trade-in for Max, Rei and Kai was Daichi: a loudmouthed spitfire who was just as stubborn as he was. And, although he'd never, ever tell the flame-haired younger boy that, he was eternally grateful for his company. At the beginning of their relationship, they did butt heads. Often… in fact, pretty much all the time. But slowly, the two, who were far more alike than either one wanted to ever admit, they'd formed a bond. Something real. Something that fulfilled a void they both kept buried— loneliness.
After that, Hiro returned. Oh, how he was thrilled to see his older brother again. He hadn't seen him in years— he'd started to wonder if he was ever coming back. He felt like a child admitting it, but he'd missed his older brother more than anyone could ever understand. Not as much as he missed his father, however, but that was a whole difference story. Grandpa, although he was ever involved in Tyson's life and still sprightly for his age, was old. He didn't know how much longer he had left, and the last thing Tyson wanted was to say goodbye to the one person who was a constant fixture in his life.
He'd done that once already, with his mother. And he never wanted to go through that pain again.
As for his dad, he hadn't the slightest idea when he'd be coming home again. He was always on some foreign excavation site. Always traversing the world. He sent postcards and other souvenirs from his travels, which were always a nice gesture, but the only thing Tyson wanted was his dad home again.
All these people in his life, and he still managed to find the time to feel alone.
Although…
There was one other constant in his life.
One friend who swore to never leave his side. To always be there to support, to fight alongside him.
Tyson pulled his beyblade out of the pouch on his arm, and stared at the bitchip. It flashed in the dim moonlight filtering through his window, almost knowingly.
Dragoon…
His sacred beast. The blue dragon he'd met three years ago, who'd stuck by his side through everything. Through all the psychos bent on world domination, through every thief who'd come to claim Dragoon for themselves, through every championship and every battle, great or small. Ever faithful. Constant.
Tyson smiled, and he could feel the beast stir and croon softly.
Yeah.
Dragoon would always be here.