Chapter 3
The bell rang, a sharp electronic blast whose signal was music to students' ears. "Alright kiddies!" The gym teacher bellowed, a buff though well-aged man with a smooth, shaved head and silver hairs in his dark beard. "Time for y'all to get dressed and go!"
As the students scrambled to the doorway, they paused, out of courtesy, to let through a pair of adults wearing visitor's passes first. The moment the strangers had gone through, however, the children unhesitatingly spilled into the hallway, like water bursting from a dam, chaotic and plentiful.
"Hey, coach!" The older man looked up from a sack of dodgeballs at the greeting, and his face spilt into a wide though uncertain grin.
"Masamune?" He stood, wiping his forehead as he stared in disbelief. "Is it really you?"
"The one and only, Coach Steels!" He raised his fist for a fist bump, to which the coach happily obliged, chuckling.
"Can't ever forget my biggest troublemaker! The moment I took eyes off you...ya flew away to Japan!" The coach joked.
Masamune blushed, scratching his head in embarrassment. "Yeah, well... Come on, coach! Look at what I got to do!"
"Yeah, yeah." Coach Steels folded his arms with a soft sigh. "I remember. We recorded all those broadcasts...you fighting, and knowing that you came from under my wing, well...let's just say an old man couldn't be prouder of his son."
"Aw, coach!"
"Anyways!" Coach Steels snapped from his nostalgic trance quickly enough, casting a sharp glance at the other red-haired visitor, who smiled politely. "Who've we got here?"
Masamune jumped to reply. "Oh! Don't you remember? This is Ginga Hagane, my friend from the World Champs."
The coach gave a low whistle. "You plannin' on bringing every beyblade legend in the world to New York? I oughta get me some autographs!" Ginga shook the coach's hand, whose grip was surprisingly light for a man his size. "He might already have," he said with a sly smile.
Masamune nodded, bouncing on his toes. "Right! We're all staying at Julian Konzern's place, since- oh, I don't know if you've heard, but the WBBA headquarters are moving to New York- since he's got a mansion out here, go figure. Anyway, Tsubasa- you remember my friend from the World Championships, right?- he's the new president of the WBBA!"
The coach's second whistle was long and low.
"I know, right? So anyway, he's moving to America from Japan, so we figured we could help him move in, right? But since he's moving to New York, specifically, I could visit you and Zeo and Toby! Speaking of Toby, how is he, anyway?"
In the very moment the mention of Zeo and Toby came up, the coach's face fell. "Zeo...he doesn't come here anymore."
"Really?"
Masamune's face was blank with surprise, making the coach snort. "Of course! It's an elementary school, and you three kids were all in your last year before you left! But anyway, what I mean by that is he stopped visiting."
"Oh." Masamune seemed crestfallen at first, but brightened back up like a switched light. "Then, how's Toby? He's gotta be better, right?"
The coach's gaze grew sad and distant. "See, Masamune, I wouldn't tell you this, but you're old enough to handle it now... But, last I heard... Toby was basically dyin'."
"What?" The grin froze on Masamune's face and melted down into horror. "I didn't realize it was that serious!"
The coach's nostrils flared. "Of course it was! He collapsed on the sidewalk, it's not gonna be a minor thing!" His expression quickly relaxed, though. "Masamune Kadoya. You really haven't changed in all these years, have ya."
"Nope," Ginga responded as cheerily as he could with the cloud of grim news still hanging over his head. "Still annoying and clueless to the very end."
The coach chuckled. "I thought so." Seeing Masamune's still-disappointed expression, they reassumed a more serious tone. "Relax. I don't know where Zeo took him, or how he did it, but I met him one day on the street, and he just told me he took Toby to a better hospital."
"Really?" Masamune looked surprised. "How did he get the money for it? The two of us could hardly help support the bill for the local hospital by ourselves!"
Coach Steels shrugged. "Doesn't matter, if Toby's okay." His tone turned playful again. "I must admit, though, that was a pretty stupid move...what were you thinking, flying off to Japan when your friend was sick? Then you never came back or contacted us!"
Masamune gave the same sheepish grin he'd struck at the party. "I got caught up in the excitement, is all...
The coach sighed. "Sorry I can't help you more. But I've got some tests to mark, so unless you boys wanna help me..."
Masamune looked like he was about to eagerly agree, but Ginga nudged him. "Hey. Don't forget we still have to meet the others for dinner."
"Oh yeah." Masamune slouched and pouted at first, but then straightened up immediately. "Food!"
The coach chuckled, dragging the bag of dodgeballs to the side. "Like I thought. Haven't changed a bit." Pausing, he fished a slip of paper from his pocket, scribbled something on it in pen, then passed it to Masamune. "Here. This is the number for Toby's old doctor. You could try calling and asking him."
"Okay." Masamune seemed genuinely pleased with this solution, clutching the piece of paper like a shard of gold. "Thanks, coach."
Since they'd flown in a few days ago, the main objective so far had been to help Tsubasa in move in. He'd hired a few movers to help, but his friends were all more than willing to assist.
In the end, the people to join him in America were Julian, Wales, Sophie, Klaus, Madouka, Ginga, Masamune, Hikaru, and, surprisingly enough, MeiMei. Kenta and Yu, stuck in school, were unable to join in. Benkei, excusing himself with the pricey cost of a flight to America, also stayed behind, though everyone suspected he was doing it for the two boys.
Sophie and Wales were surprisingly helpful when it came to helping Tsubasa move in. Ginga, Madouka and Hikaru pitched in where they could, and of course Klaus was more helpful than all of them combined. Most of the time, Julian, Hikaru, and Tsubasa were each busy with their separate company work. Masamune joined in, though not as often as the rest of them. It was clear his heart and mind were set on seeking out his two friends, but it was something the others couldn't sympathize with very well. "You did leave them behind in America," Wales pointed out every time Masamune heaved a sigh.
But spiting all of Masamune's efforts, one simple internet search was all it took to find Zeo.
Masamune had returned, looking depressed, from a phone call. "The doctor?" Ginga inquired, seeing him. He was sitting on the couch next to Madouka, who was typing away at full speed on her laptop. Masamune flopped onto the couch next to them. "No use," he groaned. "He was a kid's doctor, and Toby stopped going to him soon after he got sick."
"Masamune," Ginga said quietly. "You don't think that Toby might be..." All he received was a sharp glare.
Madouka sighed deeply, exasperated. "Alright. Last thing I need is you two squabbling while I'm trying to do work." She ignored Masamune's squawk of protest. "We weren't-"
"Tell me your friend's full name, the one that wasn't sick."
Masamune sighed. "Zeo Abyss."
Madouka's fingers chipped at the keys, then she turned the screen for them to see. "Found him," she chirped.
Masamune leaped from the couch and scrambled over. "What? How? Where?"
Madouka rolled her eyes. "Duh. Facebook. Zeo Abyss isn't exactly a common name." She pointed to the picture. "Is this him?"
The profile picture was of a young man who looked about sixteen years old, with crystal blue eyes and long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, and the ends of his hair were bleached blond.
"Huh." Ginga frowned. "This must be an old picture. He's supposed to he about twenty, isn't he?"
"Yeah, he was my age," Masamune noted with a similar frown.
Madouka scrolled down the page. "It doesn't look like he's been on the site for a while," she observed. "All these pictures look pretty old to me."
A whistle behind them made them all jump. "Who's the boy?" MeiMei crowed. "He looks pretty hot!" She cast a mischievous grin at Madouka. "Ooh, you aren't stalking a younger boy, are you?"
"No!" Madouka's face was red. "This is Zeo!" She cast a doubtful look at the screen. "He's supposed to be twenty, but this is just his Facebook profile..."
MeiMei yawned. "I never get why people find the Internet so fun."
Madouka shrugged; this was an argument she'd grown well used to since MeiMei moved in. "Well, there's websites and games and stuff that people find interesting...it kind of depends on the person, is all."
"At Bey Lin Temple," MeiMei grumbled, "we didn't need this kind of silly electronic entertainment."
"You people at Bey Lin Temple spent all your time training," Ginga pointed out.
Masamune stared intently at the screen, ignoring them. "What's the address?"
Madouka scrolled back up and highlighted the answer. "Here's an address, but I don't know if it's old..."
"Thank you! Yes! Blessed!" Masamune jumped to his feet and started punching the air in celebration. "I'll visit him, first thing in the morning!"
"Patience!" Ginga exclaimed in mock surprise. "That's a shocking trait to see in you."
MeiMei giggled. "Oh, Ginga. He's just nervous about meeting his friend again!" She leaned on the armrest and stared at the screen admiringly. "I would be, too..." Laughing, Madouka elbowed her. "Take a picture, then; I'm about to close the window. Unless you don't have camera."
MeiMei cast a wistful glance at the screen. "You know, Madouka, I think I'm really starting to accept that technology has its benefits..."
With a giggle, Madouka closed the window and resumed her work, still chuckling at MeiMei's groan of dismay.
Guns. Dust. Blood. That was as much as the eye could see.
"Move, move!" A man ordered, gesturing toward his squad. Shuffling into place, the armed group of men began to advance on their targets. Those they were shooting at were hardly sitting ducks, but at this point a head-on assault had been their only option.
A young man muttered in his sleep as half-familiar faces flashed in his mind's eye. Outside the open window, cars honked and lights flashed, fortifying evidence of New York's claim as "the city that never sleeps".
Sheets tangled around his thrashing legs, but in his dream they were thousands of times heavier; his feet were trapped in the rubble.
His nails scrabbled uselessly against the stone as bullets whizzed all around him.
"Kyoya!" A young man with olive skin and dark, bushy hair dashed towards him, easily evading the small projectiles whose movements only he could detect and predict.
"Get back, Demure!" He snapped back hoarsely, struggling to release himself. He was ant about to let the African grasslander die for his worthless hide. it was clear their loyalties were still set on bonds from long ago, still thinking him as their leader and loyalty.
But in this dream, the African hesitated and listened. He skidded to a stop; his eyes widened and he ran. Darkness suddenly washed over the lone soldier trapped in the rubble.
Several years ago, he would have rolled his eyes and waited for them to adjust to the darkness. Now, it struck as a cold, fearful reminder that made him shiver.
The silver barrel was pressed to his throat. "Answers. Now. Will have them." the accent was thick and sounded Arabic or Indian. "Or companion dies." A long, bony finger stretched towards a figure, with a hood over their head. when it was removed, it revealed nothing more than his own reflection.
They awoke in cold sweat with a gasp.
Their hands shook, signs of their continuing fear. He had left the country long ago, deemed psychologically unstable and unable to continue his service, but the country hadn't left him; memories were still locked in his mind, forever and ever.
War followed a victim everywhere they went. Every death, every bullet, every seeth of pain was clever engraved in his mind like a stone.
Shuffling from the sheets, he stood and walked two wards the open window, watching crowds of people flood from building to building, and across the street. New York was not his ideal resting environment, but with the current circumstances, he didn't have a choice.
He turned and glanced down at the clock, muscles rippling in the faint silver light cast by the moon. the digital display read 4:00. With a sigh, he ruffled his messy green mane of hair and dropped back down on his bed again. Just as quickly, though, he stood back up again and paced the corners of his bedroom.
He gave another curious glance towards the clock. Only 4:02. Barely two minutes had passed.
Oh well. Perhaps he'd go see how his roommate was doing. They didn't sleep well, either, since their own incident the month before. If not, then the TV would simply have to wake his friend for him.
Zeo's family had moved soon after Masamune left for Japan, he soon discovered on his Facebook account. As far as he knew, the guy might've left and stopped living with his parents, or maybe gone elsewhere to university, but he doubted it. Zeo's family had never been able to spend money freely. Finance was always an issue, but it hadn't been a complete strain, or flushed them down the toilet, either. They managed to spare enough for Toby, after all.
Standing at the front porch, Masamune took a few deep breaths. Behind him Klaus and Madouka, who he couldn't help but note was an odd combination, were nevertheless encouraging.
"That's right: deep breaths," Klaus recommended.
"Don't freak out, he's your friend."
Masamune turned around and put up his most reassuring grin, which wasn't at all convincing. "Relax. I'm not scared, it's just... I'm so excited! I finally get to see Zeo again! This is great!"
Madouka and Klaus were kind enough not to comment otherwise. "I'm sure," Madouka agreed awkwardly. "Um... Ring the doorbell already."
Masamune's finger hovered over the button uncertainly. He followed Klaus's advice: deep breaths. In and out. In and out. In and out.
"Or wait for him to come out," she muttered darkly.
Klaus perked. "Oh. I think I hear someone coming."
Zeo grabbed his keys and stuffed them in his pocket. He checked his bag one more time to ensure he had everything: textbooks and homework, a pen, pencil, paper, notes, his lunch. He wanted to stay with Toby at the hospital, but his schoolwork was a priority as well.
Yeah, he was already ensured a spot in HD Academy, so he didn't have to work so hard, but good work habits never hurt, right?
He checked his watch. The tiny, digital display read 9:30. Hospital hours were extended on Saturdays, so he'd have plenty of time to kill. Grabbing his bike from where it stood against the wall, he made his way to the door, fumbling with keys. His parents were upstairs, but the knew he always visited Toby on the weekends...
A voice made him pause. He could swear he heard someone talking, but now he heard nothing but silence. He listened again.
Nothing.
A cold shiver suddenly ran down his spine. 'Symptoms?'
No, that couldn't be it. He'd simply imagined it, was all.
Ignoring the nagging voice of uncertainty in his head, he unlocked the door and pushed it open.
Only to come face-to-face with one of his unfortunate daily nightmares. A day and a face he thought would never come.
"Zeo!"
