Hello! Welcome back. Erm…about the really long wait on this despite the fact that I said updates would be quick…I'm sorry! bows I've been so busy and I had to neglect fanfiction dot net for a while, and when I got back to it—I was sort of bored with my ficcies. Here I am though, back again, so I hope this story still gets a lot of reviews.

Speaking of reviews! Thank you to Avatar of Fyre, WaitingForYesterday, catseyes77, DM666, aries1391, StarlightPhoenix, storm-of-insanity, and PantheroftheNight for the awesome reviews!

Again, sorry for the wait! I hope everyone remembers what the previous chappies contained. XP And I hope you all enjoy chapter nine!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade; it belongs to Aoki Takao.

Chapter Nine

Kai's POV

Some person in a lab coat yelled at me because running is not allowed in hospitals. Boo-hoo…I have business to attend to. The look in his eye, though, made me think he was going to whap me for breaking the rule; fortunately, he just left me with a glare I could surpass easily, and I scurried off at a fast-paced walk.

Every door looked the same: dull brown, with a brass plate. Finally, I found the one with ROOM 221 printed across it.

Forever seemed to pass from the time I raised my hand to the time the sensation of the cold door-handle actually happened. And another forever ticked away while I stood, seemingly waiting for some sort of invitation or something.

Finally, I gulped in a breath, and swished the door open.

The room was rather barren…aside from the bureau and chairs and bed. The silence was only punctured by the beeping of a heart monitor. Someone had been speaking in a whispered voice to the person lying on the bed—a familiar voice that ceased to exist once I opened the door.

A familiar voice…belonging to my father.

There he sat, dark blue hair mussed, tons of bandages and gauze on his bare skin. His clothes were ragged and bloodstained, his light brown eyes bloodshot.

At first, he merely gazed up at me, probably expecting to see a nurse or something. His eyes were clouded with despair—until he recognized me. It seemed to take a long time, probably because he couldn't believe it, but mirth eventually welled up in those strained eyes.

"Kai?"

His voice was in the same bedraggled condition as the rest of him.

"Father."

Out of nervousness and uncertainty, I licked my lips, and kept eye contact with him. Against that little nagging voice that demanded I remain strong and not show emotion, I longed to embrace my adoptive father, have him hold me. I so wanted that comfort and security….

But the look in his eyes, the joy at our reunification, made me feel guilty: This was the man I had left, along with his wife—two people who had taken me in all those years ago, who loved me and took care of me, and I abandoned them, causing them anguish and grief.

And suddenly I realized why they weren't home the night I returned….

My auburn gaze shifted weightily to the bed…and there laid my adoptive mother. Her yellowish, shoulder-length locks spread across the pillow, uppermost eyelashes gently touching her soft cheeks, an oxygen mask over her mouth….

"Kai…."

I couldn't tear my gaze away, even at the sound of my father's voice—she was so vulnerable-looking, this strong woman always there to uphold me….

"Kai."

I noticed my father gently slip my mother's hand out of his palm, resting hers gently against the bed. He stood, in slow-motion, his eyes raking me over.

And after a few quick strides, his arms were around me, his love for me was felt…and I wondered how I ever could forsake these two wonderful people.

beep…beep…beep…

that night

I spent the rest of the evening in a chair across my mother's hospital bed from my father. He explained to me what happened—nasty car accident. They both were banged up, my mother obviously worse—she was in a coma.

My adoptive mother—in a coma. All because of a stupid car accident, of all things.

I asked what happened to the other driver, as my dislike for that person bubbled.

Guilt strangled my soul again when my father said they had died.

'Oh…fuck….'

Apparently, my father had been in the hospital for all these days, waiting for her to wake up. She was getting better, though, she was stable—she should wake up any day now. Good news…but I still felt guilty. I still felt responsible.

Eventually, my father was noticeably getting increasingly tired: His head kept bowing, then shooting back up; the words he was soothing his unconscious wife with were diminishing to slurred mumbles.

Silently, I lifted myself from the hard chair, and took to staring out the window. When I glanced back again, my father's head was resting on the bed, and he was snoring ever-so-lightly. A peaceful scene…that I felt I was intruding upon. I had felt that way the whole time he was talking to her, like a stranger just here to pay a visit.

Outside, it was a starless night—clouds were covering the velvety black sky. Still, I gawked, absent-mindedly though it was, listening to the beeping of the machines.

And the one thing happened I so bid not to: a teardrop trickled down my face, and I couldn't stop the others following it.

Tala's POV

A nurse shooed us out of the hospital, informing us in a scolding voice that only family members were allowed in the buildings after 10PM. Hmpf. I shot her a scowl, about to tell her—perhaps a bit proudly—that I needed to be here for my friend (Stupid-sounding, I know, but I was shaken with happiness at having a companion.) but she shoved me out with gnarled hands.

As we plunked into the car, thunder boomed ominously in the distance. Soon, rain started plopping from the colorless clouds adorning the sky, and lighting rippled across the crying clouds.

As soon as we were back in the driveway, my parents were about to open their doors when I said, "I'm going to stay out here a while."

They both gave me a look that implied I was nuts, and I stared them down, until finally my mother submitted and bid me farewell with a "Be careful". And they were gone into the pouring water, arms shielding their scalps, practically dashing toward our front door.

The car door slammed shut behind me, but the sound was muffled by the droning rainwater. I reveled in the soft tapping of rain against me, relished in the misty smell. A small smile laced my lips, as I sighed contentedly, appreciating the odd sense of calm and strength the rain gave me.

So many times before I had done this: gone outside in the rain, just to feel and be and relax. I'm not religious, don't practice anything, but it still is a spiritual experience to stand in the rain; healthy for the soul, anyway.

I wondered if Kai had ever bothered going out in the rain just to exist and feel stronger. With that food-for-thought, I meandered off down the street, tucking my hands in my pockets.

Halfway down the street, I noted a rock in my path. It tumbled far when I kicked it. In the duration of my stroll, it preceded me, guiding my footsteps.

Guiding me right down an alleyway.

Screwy aim caused the rock to spiral down into the darkness of an alley. Without hesitation, I wandered in, scanning the area for signs of life. Perceiving none, I moved my foot about in the dimness in search of the rock.

My foot made contact with something hard…something hard that growled. Startled, I drew back my foot, and stared at the thing. Lightning flashed, and in the momentary light I could make out what the thing was—a dog.

As though on cue, the dog—more like a puppy—leapt up and yipped at me. Not one to back down from a challenge, I squatted down in front of it. Immediately, it shut up, and eyed me cagily.

"Hey, puppy," I muttered over the patter of rain. Steadily, my hand reached out, and I hoped the pup would sense that I was unafraid and not wishing to harm it.

Apparently it didn't, though, because it cowered and released a feeble yip.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you."

Dumb to soothe a puppy, I know. Hell, I didn't know why I was doing that…. Sure, I was fond of animals, but…there was something about the pathetic aloneness surrounding this dog that gravitated me to it. I dunno…I think, since my loneliness was being chipped away, I was determined to eradicate loneliness from the face of the planet. An uncharacteristically selfless thing to desire, but hey, people change.

Again, the puppy barked weakly, still giving me that wary eye. Another streak of lightning, and I saw the fear in its large black eyes.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

Impulsively, I scooted forward and seized the puppy, lifting it into my arms. Seconds later, it occurred to me how stupid that was—the thing could have been diseased, or dying, or vicious, or something.

Glaring at my idiocy, I bit my lip and stalked off out of the alleyway, rock forsaken.

The puppy, apparently, was not vicious. In fact, it seemed to be cowering the whole way back home.

Standing on my front doorstep, soaking pup in hand, rain still pouring, knowledge that I had a friend, and one with injured parents at that—a lot to take in, but I felt I could handle it and I was prepared to face it.

--

Heh, that thing about feeling strengthened in the rain is so true for me. It's definitely a spiritual experience for me to go out in the rain; I feel God and pure and strong. I advise you all give it a shot—it's soul-cleansing. Temporarily, sometimes, but still very wonderful feeling, and it does erase some sense of burden.

Anyway, Tala with a puppy—cute image, no:)

Merry Christmas! And Happy Hanukkah and Happy Kwanzaa and…Happy Anything-Else!

Thank you for reading; please review!

have a nice day

CyborgRockStar