Author's Note: I'd like to thank everyone that has reviewed and added this to either their favorites or alerts. It means a lot to me! Anyways, I hope you continue to tell me your thoughts! This chapter is a bit of monster - length wise that is - and has a lot going on for Kai and Tyson.

Notes:

1) It was odd. I forgot to include little ol' Daichi in the first scene and had to give a quick reason as to why he isn't there! xD Poor guy, I keep forgetting to include him - and he's good comic relief! *sigh*


- CHAPTER SEVEN: CONFLICTED FEELINGS -


The following morning, Tyson finally gets discharged from the hospital. His initial response was, 'Finally! No more slave driving from Hilary!', too bad she has decided that she is going to make sure he gets caught up on his homework regardless. But despite that load of crock, the world champ is focused on something far more dire: Kai's whereabouts.

At first, he assumed he would come home and find all of Kai's belongings removed from the guest bedroom, but they are exactly where they were when they decided to take a hike in the woods. Nothing has been moved even an inch. And that's not like Kai one bit, being as secretive as he is.

The youngest Granger sighs and plops down on the couch in the living room, Ray shifting beside him with a steaming cup of Starbucks coffee nestled between his palms. The rest of the G-Revolutions, minus Kai of course and Daichi who is at Max's house helping with the shop, are huddled in the living room as well, Max and Hilary on the floor, and Kenny on the other side of Ray on the couch, legs crossed.

"I can't believe this," Tyson whines, propping his cast up on the coffee table, "Kai is possibly living with that sleaze bag, Voltaire, again. Just why the hell would he want to live with him after all the messed up things he's done to him?"

Hilary wiggles in her spot on the floor, tucking her sock clad feet underneath her properly. "Well," she begins, holding up a hand and unfurling her index finger in one of her typical 'I'm going to express my opinion and some facts' pose. "According to multiple articles I've read, people that are in abusive relationships, especially with a parental figure, tend to strive extra hard to gain said parental figure's acceptance. Of course this happens without the victim's knowledge."

Max and Tyson blink, confused. "Huh?"

"Don't interrupt!" she scolds and huffs before continuing. "The victim will find faults in themselves and, in their minds, find reasonable explanations for the abuse that he or she receives from their parent or guardian. They're confidence is shattered by the abuse and they become anti-social and defensive. Usually lashing out at their friends in a desperate cry for help. Even if they don't realize it."

Tyson groans. "Can you please get to the point already? I feel like I'm in a freaking psychology class."

"Fine, fine, you jerk," she grumbles, crossing her arms, "What I'm getting at is that Kai, if he has moved in with his abusive grandfather, despite all that has happened between them, still strives for some form of acceptance from him."

"Hilary has a valid point," Kenny says, "When we first met Kai, he was more withdrawn and anti-social. He never really thought that people could care about him. He only accepted the Bladebreakers as genuine friends after we saved him on Lake Baikal. He's a lot different now than he was then."

"Which makes it even more difficult to understand why he'd want to go back to living with Voltaire." Ray points out with a heavy sigh. The other males nod in silent agreement.

Hilary bats her eyelashes, her curiosity gnawing at her. "How was Kai before all that?"

"A cocky butthole." Tyson grumbles. That hasn't really changed, but for some reason, Tyson wouldn't have wanted him to.

"Scary." a shivering Kenny adds, remembering all the times he wilted when Kai would even glance his way. To think now that they're all on such good terms - or so he thought.

"Elusive." Ray provides with a nod.

"Demanding." Max trills. The others look at him, frowning. The blond blinks and shrugs casually. "What? He was crazy strict about how much we worked out. He was like a personal trainer from Hell." Okay, so they can't disagree with that.

The conversation continues onward while Tyson blanks out the rest, partially due to his ankle and side hurting and partially because he can't get Kai off his mind. He can feel that odd, strange tingling in the back of his mind that serves as some sort of mental link to Kai, and has seriously considered reaching out in the hopes of connecting to him to read his thoughts, but at the same time he's too scared to.

He's aware that something . . . strange has stirred within him as a result of the cave incident almost a week prior and he's not sure how to digest - or even comprehend - that. Just what is he feeling? He'd ask Max, Kenny, or Ray (Hilary would only insult him) about it, but he's too afraid of what they might say. He frowns. Why is that? He doesn't even know what they'd say!

The sixteen-year-old sighs and shifts to get a little more comfortable, the decorative pillow having been jabbed into his side for the past ten minutes causing him a lot of pain where his stitches are. He doesn't want to think too much on the disturbing feelings and focus more on the fact that Kai might have willingly left the hospital with Voltaire.

An acute pain explodes in his chest at the thought.

Kai wouldn't betray them again, would he? He's not going to join some beyblading team headed by Voltaire in an attempt to steal their bit-beasts again, right? He involuntarily shivers and starts gnawing on his jaw.

He doesn't want to doubt Kai. Really. He is his best friend after all. But his actions haven't been consistent in the past when it comes to staying true to their team. While Kai can just up and team hop with little thought on the matter, Tyson is usually left devastated and hurt. Sure, it had upset him when Ray and Max left, too, but not as bad as when Kai did.

He doesn't know why, but he assumes it has something do with the bond they share. Kai understands him on a deeper level than anyone else and vice-versa. Not to mention the intensity they both experience when they battle in a beydish. It's borderline extraterrestrial.

Maybe Kai was forced to go back to Voltaire. He shakes his head. No. That would be even worse. It would mean that Voltaire is possibly harming Kai again. And he'd rather Kai go willingly than that to be the case, even if it kills him on the inside.

Tyson finally sighs and zones back in on his friends, all still chatting, but then he decides to cut in: "Kenny, do you know where Voltaire's mansion is? I know the old one was sold."

Kenny looks up from his laptop and nods. "I'm sure I can find out!"

"I guess you have a plan?" Ray asks, peering over at the blunet with curious amber irises. The younger teen yawns and rubs at the tip of his nose, grinning.

"I think it's kind of obvious." he retorts. At that, Max hops to his feet, a catty look that would much better suit Ray, in-tact. The blond enthusiastically pumps his fists into the air.

"Operation Infiltrate Kai's Psycho And Creepy Grandpa's Mansion: COMMENCE."

"Um, actually I was just thinking about trying to spy and see if Kai's there or not." Tyson corrects then motions to his injured leg. "I don't think I'm up for risking my life right now."

Max deflates with a huff and crosses his arms. "Way to shit on my parade."

"I found something!" Kenny blares, interrupting all conversation. They focus their attention on the smaller teen, especially Tyson whose worry for his best friend has him feeling nauseous and shaken to the core. Maybe he's just upset that there's a possibility that Kai moved out because he didn't like living with Tyson anymore. Has he done something wrong?

"Kenny!" Hilary snaps, urging the boy to reveal the information. He shakes his head and adjusts his round glasses.

"Sorry," he says, "Voltaire's new mansion is about a ten mile walk from here. We'll have to take a bus there."

"So, it's in the city?!" Tyson demands, hopping up only to wobble and fall over when his ankle protests angrily. "Ow . . ."

Kenny ignores the scene and merely bobs his head. "Yeah! It's an expansive property right in the middle of the city!"

Ray crosses his arms across his broad chest, a distant expression etching itself upon his visage. "That's odd, don't you think?"

Max raises his eyebrows, the corners of his lips twitching donward. "What do you mean?" Ray hunches forward.

"Voltaire is a secretive guy. For him to purchase a house right in the middle of the city where anyone could try and sneak in . . . is just a little odd."

"I guess you're right," Tyson agrees, "But I don't give a damn! We're going over there and we're getting to the bottom of all this!"

They will get Kai back.


Kai cannot deny the fact that his suite has become something akin to a personal sanctuary in the past day. Not mentioning the ginormous bedroom with a veranda, it has its own bathroom, along with an additional room attached to the bedroom that serves a living room; high-definition flat screen and a wall that is a bookshelf included. He's learned that he only needs to come out when he needs to go to the kitchen, which isn't often considering that one of the butlers or maids are constantly catering to his needs.

He sighs and adjusts on the plush gray couch in the living room section of his suite, lowering the book held loosely in his grasp.

Leaving is inevitable. After all, he has to return his classes tomorrow and there will be a mound of make-up work that he will have to conquer. Not that it matters, his classes, despite being advanced placement, are simple. He only dreads running into Tyson, who he has both lunch and Physical Education with.

Kai leans further into the couch, being mindful of the cast on his left leg, and runs his freehand through his slate bangs. He's aware of the fact that he's being a coward, wanting to avoid Tyson because of the mind numbing guilt that's slowly devouring him. But he just can't bring himself to want to face the smaller teen.

Tyson got hurt because of him. Again. It's as if he's a fool that cannot stop repeating past mistakes . . .

The young Hiwatari purses his lips, crimson gaze trailing lazily to the window and peering out at the gray clouds above, all depositing specks of white. It's when he realizes that he has been a fool. He may call Tyson and the others fools, but he's worse than they could ever dream of being. He has a tendency to be selfish, cold, distant, aloof, and: he's never deserved their friendship - Tyson's most of all.

Yeah, he's saved their lives on multiple occasions, but that doesn't make up for all the wrongs he has committed. He lowers his eyes to the floor, his freehand settling in the pocket of jeans, fingers finding comfort in Dranzer's sharp edges. He deserves to be back in this hell with Voltaire.

Suddenly a knock on the door brings him out of his internal reverie and he resists the urge to groan. Who can it be?

"Who is it?" he calls as he stands, leaving his book forgotten on the cushion he was previously occupying. He waits a moment, but receives no answer, which only irritates him further. He approaches the door, inquiring in a tone far less patient, "Who is it?"

About that time the door flies open, narrowly missing Kai by a hair, and in steps Voltaire, his chest pushed forward, one hand tucked firmly against the small of his back, while the other rests atop a black and gold walking stick. He towers about a head over Kai, peering down his nose into his crimson eyes.

Kai stands his ground, recognizing this to be a challenge from the older Hiwatari. But he's used to the mind games, manipulation, and intimidation by now. It's something he's always had to deal with, but had been too stubborn to realize. Back then, he had wanted nothing more than affection and approval from his grandfather, but that is something he will never have.

"To whom do I owe the pleasure of being graced with your presence, grandfather?" he questions bitterly, his words packing a heavy dose of sarcasm. It isn't a surprise when a dark look crosses Voltaire's visage, his opal gaze intensifying. Kai smirks, pleased that he's managed to get under Voltaire's skin - when a searing pain explodes in his abdominal, toppling him over.

The phoenix hisses and hugs his stomach, glaring up at the monster before him as he lowers his offending appendage back to his side, a smug expression now firmly in place. Kai had forgotten what the abuse felt like, but that was an unpleasant reminder. Honestly, he had anticipated that he would be physically or verbally assaulted sooner or later, it isn't something Voltaire is above. Never has been.

And just like before it causes a deep pitted anger to bubble in his stomach. He truly hates his grandfather. This man is nothing short of a beast - in mind, body, and spirit. He just uses people, especially his kin.

Just as he recovers from both the shock and pain, and goes to stand on his feet, Voltaire kicks him in the side. Hard.

Thankfully Kai manages to keep from crying out or landing on his back and forces himself onto his feet. He's not afraid. Not anymore. He's endured this treatment before, and he will again. "I see you're still as narcissistic as ever." he says, his voice not wavering, his face showing no sign of pain, because if he does, then his punishment will be ten times worse.

"I'd bite my tongue if I were you, boy," Voltaire seethes, "As I said before, you will show me some respect in my own home."

"Hn."

Voltaire glares and looms over Kai once more. "What did you say?" he presses, one of his hands snaking around Kai's right bicep hard enough to bruise. It hurts, but Kai pretends that it doesn't. He's not beating around the bush is he?

"Yes, grandfather." he retorts. It's what Voltaire wants after all - for Kai to be the perfect obedient grandson that he desires. To be sociable when needed and quiet otherwise. It's sickening.

The older Hiwatari's grasp lightens and he pulls away, smirking. "That's better," he says and taps the end of his walking stick on the floor, "Now, to what I came here for: the wealthy owner of a weapon company in Slovakia is hosting a grand ball in honor of his daughter's eighteenth birthday. In celebration of our recent partnership, we've come to an agreement."

Kai raises his eyebrows, ignoring the urge to hold his injured side, and says, "And?"

"You are going to be his daughter's date for the ball."


"Whose bright idea was it to let the cripple drive?!" Hilary screeches, holding onto the driver's seat of Grandpa Granger's car as they go around another curve. Tyson peers into the rear-view mirror and scowls at the brunette.

"That's offensive! I'm not even cripple!" he snaps, applying more pressure to the gas pedal. Due to his cast weighing a ton, and the fact that his foot keeps getting caught, he's long since given up on trying to hit the breaks.

Max, who is in the middle in the back, tightens his hold on Ray and Hilary's knees. "We should have just waited for the bus!"

"I think you're supposed to stop at all red lights, Tyson." Ray whimpers before clamping a hand over his mouth, his face turning a shade of green.

"Use your left foot to hit the breaks! EEP!" Kenny cries just as they hit a speed bump coming to a traffic light, nearly losing his beloved laptop in the process. Tyson chuckles sheepishly, wondering why he hadn't thought of that himself, before slamming on the breaks, throwing everyone forward as they screech to a halt. Hilary and Ray slam their foreheads into the back of the passenger and driver's seats, while Kenny's bangs loudly against the dash.

"For once I'm glad I was crammed in the middle." Max says, watching his peers as they all rub their sore foreheads.

"I don't even see how you got your license, Tyson!" Hilary snaps, tending to the massive knot already developing on her otherwise unblemished face. Kenny moans his agreement from the front passenger seat. Tyson rolls his eyes and gives a dismissive wave.

"Quit complaining," he chides grumpily, "I can't help that I'm the only one out of everyone in the car that has their license."

"Ugh, quit rubbing it in our faces, douche!" Max mumbles, crossing his arms, cheeks a dark shade of pink.

"Oh, Maxie, you're just jealous that you drive worse than a drunk -"

"Tyson! The light's green! Hurry and go right!" Kenny interrupts, spurring the other teen into slamming the gas pedal to the floor, the car jerking harshly as a result. "Not like that!"

"Hey isn't that it?!" Tyson bellows, pointing in the distance where a enormous, gated house is visible. Kenny blinks.

"I'd assume so!" the short brunet chimes and nods. Tyson grins, locks the car up, once again jolting everyone inside the vehicle besides himself, and takes a parking space on the side of the road.

"I think I'm gonna barf." Ray mutters as he climbs out of the back, quivers, and promptly runs to the nearest trashcan.

"Are you okay, Ray?" Hilary inquires, climbing out after the Chinese blader and going to check on him. Max, Kenny, and Tyson follow suit, although the latter is far more focused on the mansion in the near distance. He can't help it, he's worried for Kai, damn it!

"Hey," Tyson says, peeking back at his friends, "Um, what's the plan once we actually get there?"

"We'll decide when we get to the gate." Kenny answers, running to catch up to Tyson.

"I think I'm going to walk back to the dojo." Ray groans, using Max as a limp. The blond bobs his head in agreement.

"That makes two of us, buddy."

Tyson blows a stray strand of navy hair out of his eyes and glares back at his teammates. "Really? My driving isn't that bad! Besides, there are more important things to worry about - like KAI, for instance!"

"Look!" Hilary interjects, hand outstretched, index finger unfurled. The others instinctively look in the direction that the sole female of their team gestures to, surprised when they see a cluster of people grouped around the large, steel gate surrounding the Hiwatari mansion.

"Hey, what's going on?!" Tyson demands, grabbing the closest person to the fence, and shakes them. They shrug him off with a hateful glare and commence to talk to the person next to them. The sixteen-year-old growls and grabs another person, only for it to end with the same results. "Why won't anyone tell me what's going on?!"

"Maybe it's because you're being too rude, idiot!" Hilary quips before tapping someone on the shoulder. They turn and look at her. She asks in a soft tone, "Can you please tell me what is going on?" The boy, probably a year or two younger than Hilary herself, nods.

"Apparently my idol, Kai Hiwatari, just moved in here with his grandfather. I'm waiting to get his autograph!"

"So, Kai really is here . . ." Tyson mumbles, gaining the attention of the boy. His eyes widen.

"It's the G-Revolutions!" he wails, holding out a notebook and pen. "Can I have your autograph?!"

"Uh, sure!" Tyson agrees sheepishly, taking the notebook and ballpoint pen, signing his name then hands it back.

"The G-Revolutions?!" the crowd cries in unison, focusing on Ray, Tyson, and Max with googly eyes. The trio gulps - then the assault happens.

"It is! Look, it's Ray Kon! He's so smexy!" one fangirl screams.

"No! Look at Max, he's so freaking adorablessss!" another coos, hands clasped together tightly.

"Sorry to burst your bubbles, but Tyson is the cutest! Look at those eyes!" a third choruses, winking in Tyson's direction, freaking out the world champ.

"Woah! I don't think it's appropriate to touch someone there in public!" Ray yelps when he gets tackled by a fangirl.

"My shirt!" Max hollers when a group of girls takes him down.

"This is outta hand!" Tyson says before a few girls hop onto him.

Hilary and Kenny can only watch from the sidelines helplessly as their teammates get mauled by the rabid girls - and guys. The female of the duo rolls her eyes. "This is just great, Kenny. Just another way to boost Tyson's already overly inflated ego."


Kai's really living with Voltaire again - and it just doesn't resonate all too well with Tyson.

The sixteen-year-old rolls onto his back, peering out the window into the veil of darkness outside. He sighs and pulls his covers up to his chest. Just why would Kai do that to them - to him? - after all they've been through in the past few years? Tyson had thought that they had strengthened their bonds, but it appears he might have been deceiving himself all along.

It makes himself sick to even consider such a notion, but it seems he has no other choice at this rate. Kai's not even tried to contact him today at all, and with all of his belongings in the next room over, one would think that he'd be interested in at least getting his stuff. Of course, Kai always has had a knack for up and disappearing at random times, but not like this. Ever since staying with Tyson, he's always come home at night to crash.

Tyson hates to admit it, but Kai leaving really has his emotions raging like an EF4 tornado. Like usual.

After a moment of just laying there, eyes shifting to the ceiling, he finally sits up and slams his fists against the mattress, crumpling the sheets up further. "Just why the hell do you always get me so tore up, Kai?!" he snaps to no one in particular before plopping back down against his pillow, a frown visible upon his visage.

An odd fluttering sensation in his stomach is the answer he receives, but doesn't know how to decode. He hasn't ever since he's started feeling them - and it's starting to really grate on his nerves. If there is one thing that Tyson hates, it's being confused.

The teen rolls onto his side with a groan.

It's as if Kai has some sort of power over him. Always has. He only gets this worked up whenever it involves his rival.

Tyson runs a hand through his hair, the dampness from his shower earlier, cold on his fingers. He feels irritated that his mind refuses shut down so he can get some precious sleep, especially considering the fact that he has class tomorrow. It's as if his thoughts and emotions are like a leaky faucet, no matter how hard he tries to stop them from flowing, they continue to drip out anyways. On top of that, he's anxious and stressed to the max.

He clamps his eyes shut, the image of his best friend flashing beneath his eyelids.

"Kai . . ."


It's at the crack of dawn, when Voltaire is in the living area with a newspaper in one hand and a cup of steaming coffee in the other, when he hears his grandson make his way downstairs, a backpack slung over one of his shoulders, clad in a royal purple shirt underneath a black duffle coat and white scarf, dark wash jeans, and one of his black and white trainers on his right foot and the other in a medical boot that slightly exposes the cast beneath. He lowers his coffee and raises his thick, white brows.

"Where do you think you're going?" he questions, glowering at his blood relative. The teen pauses at the door and frowns, clearly irritated at the inquiry.

"School." he answers and pushes the door open, stepping out into the chilly morning air without a moment's hesitation. Voltaire snorts at the aloof behavior. Stupid boy.

Kai doesn't necessarily care what his grandfather thinks of him anymore. After all, he threw him under the bus in Moscow all those years ago; the tension between grandfather and grandson is to be expected. In fact, if it wasn't there, then he'd find a reason to be concerned. But Voltaire is predictable. That's just another downside to harboring unadulterated anger and grudges does - one of many personality flaws that his grandfather just can't seem to let go.

To think that he was heading down that path at one point. That is, until Tyson offered him his hand on Lake Baikal that faithful day and proved to him that he is worthy of having others care about him . . .

Kai shakes his head and runs a hand through the untamable mess of slate bangs that perpetually hang down in his eyes constantly. He doesn't deserve to be cared for, because really, he always manages to screw up. It's as if . . . when things are finally good, he gets scared and somehow does something ignorant. It's disgusting really. Sad. Pathetic. And so him.

Roughly twenty minutes passes before Bey City High comes into view, upsetting Kai's nerves further. He hates to admit it, but the scene is almost reminiscent of a time a little over a year ago, when he had tried out for the BEGA team, failed, and then wondered aimlessly around the city, almost going in to watch the tournament and possibly make amends with his friends - Tyson - but got too scared and fled. He clenches his jaw taut.

Things are going to be different this time. He won't run away, but that doesn't mean he's going to make much of an effort to be in the G-Revolutions' lives. Even if they are the only ones that he really gives a damn about.

It's just . . .

How can he look Tyson in the eyes, knowing that he almost caused his death? The answer to that question, and the guilt of his reckless decision making at the time, is deafening and only makes him feel worse. He almost wishes that they'd left him to drown that day three and a half years ago. It would have saved them a lot of trouble.

Kai sighs as he reaches the front lawn of the school, not hesitating to scuttle through the front doors of the building and up to the third floor, hurrying to his homeroom class. He's arrived early in the hopes of not running into Tyson just yet, but unfortunately, that means he has to wait an hour before classes even begin. He takes a seat in the back that's closest to the windows, props his elbows up on the desk, and closes his eyes in frustration.

All he can hope for is that he makes through the following week. It's going to take a miracle for him to find a way to placate Tyson and not have him badgering him about his reasons for returning to Voltaire.


"Tyson!" Kenny yells, running down the hall after his most valued friend. When he catches up, Tyson comes to a halt and he slams into his back. "Ouch, what was that all about, huh?"

Tyson sighs, turns around, and offers a hand to help Kenny up. The boy genius accepts graciously and allows himself to be pulled onto his feet. "Sorry, Chief," he says, running a hand through his hair, "I'm just all tore up about running into Kai."

Kenny raises his eyebrows. "Don't you mean limping into Kai?" The world class blader gives him a flat look. "I'm sorry - but I'm sure everything will work itself out in the end, Ty."

The wielder of Dragoon, frowns, his hands trembling at his sides. "I just don't know, Kenny." He turns away from the smaller teenager, his stomach in knots. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this. Especially Kai. The thought alone is enough to make him feel ashamed of himself, but he just can't seem to understand why he is so distressed. It makes no sense.

"Um, Tyson?" Kenny squeaks, bringing the other from his thoughts. He glances up - only to see Kai. He gulps.

Well, fuck.

To be continued . . .


I'm so proud of myself! Another update so soon! Woot!

This chapter just seemed to spew out of my head like water from a broken dam. I mean, it's different than what I expected it to be, but that's okay with me. I feel as if it's going in the direction I want it to. What do you think?

As for Kai, I'm hoping you can see how he's feeling in this chapter, Tyson, too. Kai's torn between completely distancing himself from his friends, but it's a little more difficult than he anticipated (he's grown attached), or still being apart of their lives as to not break a promise he's made to himself (not being so cold to them anymore). And Tyson? Well, he's just pissed and hurt.