Chapter Three: Dijurido


The sky was dark. Makoto opened the curtains to see the arrows of light dimly pierce the oppressive clouds above them. Like a storm being born, the clouds circled each other in a waltz that looked almost beautiful. Heavy and twisting, they swallowed the sky and its blue light. And even those tiny pinpricks of light that had pierced the clouds were being engulfed by its power. Makoto stared at the sight before shutting the curtains once more. The fireplace by the living room had been lit and Gou was adding more wood to the consuming red flames. Makoto could see the flames flicker in Gou's eyes and he wondered whether Gou was ever scared of getting burned. He presumed it was a family trait, but even then….

"Otousan, otousan! Gou fell into the river! He needs help!"

"Coming, coming!"

"Will Gou be all right? ….He won't die would he?"

"Of course not Makoto. Gou will be fine."

"…."

"He will be fine."

It was one of those few moments in his life that he was truly scared. Scared that his best friends would die and vanish just like his mother had. When a person dies, they are forgotten. Makoto knows that eventually, everyone will forget Tyson the World Champion. It was…only a matter of time. If Makoto had the power, he would wish that those memories would last forever. That no one is the world could never forget. But never forgetting means never forgiving as well. And as Makoto watched Gou poke the fire with the poker, he knew that it would take a long time for this hurt to heal. Because it didn't only extend to him and Gou, but it went further to their fathers as well.

Gou stood up and rubbed his hands slightly, "It's cold today," He remarked, turning to meet Makoto's eyes. Impassionate fathomless black met his stare and he wondered if they ever changed. Gou was sure that they moved according to mood and one day, he would see those eyes change into something wonderful.

"That it is," Makoto said, "Have you looked outside?"

"I have, actually," Gou said, "It's like the gods are stewing up the sky."

Makoto chuckled and Gou saw it. It was just a second long and it vanished before he could actually notice it for what it was. Like the subtle shadowing of trees, Makoto's eyes changed. Warmer, softer like the charcoal brushing on a canvass. It was worth the bad joke, Gou thought smirking.

"I should get dinner ready," Gou said, setting the poker by the side of the fireplace. Makoto watched him quietly and asked, "Should I help?"

Gou shook his head, "Nah," then he paused and thought it over, "Well, you could call Father down."

There was an imperceptible chill that filled the room by those words. Gou froze immediately and hastily said, "Actually I should probab—,"

"I'll go get him."

"—bly call him down—huh?" Gou stopped abruptly, "You'll what?"

"I'll get him down," Makoto's eyes were still black, but there was a solid barrier of steel behind those words. Gou hoped that something too dangerous didn't erupt between them. It was a catastrophe he would like to avoid at all costs.

Gou hesitated (and stumbled over the words in his head) and stopped.

"All right," Gou smiled warmly, taking Makoto aback, "You go get him."

Makoto smiled back and began walking up the stairs, each footstep sounding more solemnly than the last.

-XX-

The book lay there, taunting him. Kai could feel the urge to pick it up. Tyson's words were written there, written there for him to see. And maybe he could understand this feeling of hurt that has consumed him and made him embittered. Where was Dranzer? When was the last time he had picked her up? Kai shook her head trying to dislodge the thoughts in his head.

Tyson. His memories were dim. How long had he recalled Tyson? It seems that for days, he would lock himself here reminiscing and cursing (always cursing and the hurling of vases against the floor. If there was anything, anything that could remove the burn in his chest when he remembered the past. The tears came much later) and then he would curl up against the floor always feeling broken and so lonely because it was the betrayal that hurt, but the loneliness that hurt even more.

Kai stared at the book, debilitating thoughts drifting into his head. If he read a little more…maybe he would understand what happened. Kai's hands itched traitorously and he ignored the book by looking out of the window. But his eyes betrayed him as he would stray back to it once more.

It bothered him that he never remembered seeing Tyson with a journal. Never in the many years that they had been teammates (and then friends and then further till each lifeline in their hands were memorized in loving detail). Why had Tyson never told him? Why had Tyson (of all people) kept a secret from him? Kai stared at the book as if it was responsible for the rift between them. Uncertainly (it won't bite and yet Kai feared it more than a gun) he picked it up once more and ran his hands down the spine. It felt familiar and Kai wondered whether he had seen the journal before, but never truly made a note of it. It wouldn't be unusual (his memory got worse and worse as the years passed by) for him to forget and yet….

Kai set it up his side once more and began walking slow circles around his bed. The book was laid innocently on the bed and Kai felt his fingers twitch in curiosity. Why had that boy (Tyson's child, Tyson's child, his head whispered back at him enviously) brought it here? What would Makoto possible gain from all this? A rekindling of old friendships with Gou? Was that it?

Despite the fact he looked embittered and isolated; Kai did still keep occasional tabs on the beyblading world (the world that Tyson embraced so whole-heartedly that Kai was dragged along. If they never met, would it be possible that Kai would have given up beyblading?). Sometimes, just to check on Gou's achievements whenever he was out of the country (and to remind himself that Gou was fine so he didn't worry excessively) and sometimes just to be in touch. It would be a waste to abandon something that had consumed him completely when he was a youth.

But rumours can infiltrate even the most fortified bunker and Kai hadn't missed the tell-tale whispers about Tyson's not-so prodigious son. He hated them (oh, how did he hate them. He raged on for days for saying things like that against Tyson! And Tyson's son! The blasphemy and the sacrilege would fever his mind blacker than the plague) and sometimes he would contact old associates to make sure those rumours had been erased (and sometimes the people as well. No, Kai was not being irrational).

Knock.

Kai jolted himself out of his reverie and narrowed his eyes at the door. Gou usually never knocked before entering. Clearing his throat, he asked, "Who is it?" An ominous silence followed his question and Kai asked again, "Who is it?"

"….It's me." A quiet voice answered. Kai scowled, "What are you doing here?"

"I've come to call you downstairs. Dinner is ready."

"Why didn't Gou come?" Kai wondered if Makoto was as much as a martyr that Tyson portrayed himself to be. The thought made him sick.

There was a pregnant pause after that question and Kai could feel the tension building up like ash in his throat.

"…Because I wanted to," Makoto's voice filtered through the door. It sounded like a disembodied voice and for a moment, Kai felt he was on the edge of a cliff. That phrase had sounded too familiar and his mind dredged up another memory.

"Because I wanted to," The voice drifted behind him. He paused. He didn't look, but he paused. A hand reached for him, but he pushed it away. He…he didn't want to feel anything. Being empty…was just fine. No pain that way. No gain that way either, but it was better…so much better to not expect anything anymore and rely on your own despair.

"But I don't," And he kept walking, his own footsteps sounding like the drumming to the sacrificial altar. He kept telling himself, "it's better this way" because it was better this way. He had nothing to gain…but, but it was better than losing what he had just received back.

Anything for things to stay the same. Anything…

The door creaked open and for a moment Makoto didn't believe that this broken man who stood at the entrance was the same one who was yelling at him earlier. He hesitated (know where you stand, especially with people, his father told him once) and decided to say nothing. He just waited beside Mr. Hiwatari. Kai blinked and with a gruff nod, proceeded down the steps. Makoto blinked and with a small smile followed the man.

-XX-

Dinner was not something Gou was looking forward to. He knew that with Makoto here, his father would not be on his best behavior. In truth, he was having mixed feelings about dinner himself. He was angry at his father for taking away Makoto's letters from him, slightly angry at Makoto for shouting at him when he left, angry at himself because he had no idea how to fix things. He was at odds at the situation and he simply didn't know what to do. And that scared him.

He didn't want things to remain this way.

He…

He wanted his best friend back.

The spoons clicked the porcelain plates and eyes darted from side to side. It was like watching a chessboard, not knowing who would play the first move. Makoto kept his eyes focused on the food, trying to ignore Mr. Hiwatari's baleful glare. Gou kept subtly stabbing his potatoes to death, feeling the edges of frustration bare its teeth at him. The silence hovered above them, snickering softly. Really, it wasn't quite the family dinner people expected.

Click went the spoon against the porcelain plate. The noise seemed to shake the inhabitants out of their self-imposed reverie.

"Father, are you attending the tournament next week?" Gou said cautiously, "They want you to be one of the judges."

Kai shot him a disgruntled look and said, "I'll think about it."

Gou felt himself deflate slightly inside. Makoto noticed his reaction and blurted out suddenly, "Is there any way for me to enter?"

Kai and Gou stared at him incredulously. But the beginnings of a smile grew on Gou's face.

"I'm sure they can make an exception for you," Gou said, raising his soup spoon to his face, "I think it's a great idea Makoto."

Kai ignored them.

"Then I'll enter then," Makoto said, feeling better.

Gou smirked, "You better be good Makoto," He sipped his soup and set the spoon down, "I don't want to go against anything less."


A/N: A big thanks to my reviewers who are the most amazing bunch ever for reviewing this story. Love you guys!