Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.
WARNING: Rated M. This chapter deals with some pretty gruesome subjects that everyone may not be able to stomach. Proceed with the knowledge that you have been warned.
CHAPTER 43
There are laws. There are rules.
And when you break them, there are consequences.
Laws of nature and laws of life.
Laws of love and laws of death.
Amy Harmon
NORMAL POV:
There is nothing fun about killing a human being. Nothing to be proud of. Nothing to relish. It is a vile act and it goes against the very nature of humanity. Neither the murderer nor the murdered gains any ultimate profit from the commitment of such a sin. Spilling the blood of a person is never a solution to any problem. It is no way to settle a dispute.
Before you ask who decides what is good and what is bad, I want you to ask yourself why you function the way you do.
There's a very simple answer.
We've all been programmed and the chip inside us defines all our actions and all our thoughts. And the Chip has provided us with a conscience. A moral compass.
So why is the world so corrupt?
What's wrong with the moral compasses of the ones who commit crime?
Well, either knowingly or unknowingly, they suppress it.
All hell had broken lose.
The people had not realized the perilousness of the situation till it was one too many deaths to count on your fingers. Not amidst the popcorn and the metal, or the bets and the commentary, or the cheers and the shouts. Not when Zeus had risen up from the blade determined to take life or paradoxically when a vortex sucked itself bigger and Brooklyn fell apart, literally fell apart, in Obliqua's seething claws.
The absurdity of the events should have been enough of an omen to set the audience scrambling out of their seats and towards the exits at least when the enraged bit beast rolled itself up into a ball of skewers and grew bigger and bigger and bigger. Though as it happened, some naive sense of safety kept them glued to the chairs and the game and none ran when the excitement was turned up a notch too extreme. Later, he would claim that this was the reason why he decided to go through with the insane mission. People who were either too stupid or too screwed in the head to watch seventeen-year-olds die and do nothing about it, did not deserve to live. What good would such a group of human beings do for the world? They were only a burden the Earth was unfortunate enough to carry.
What about all the little children?
A lightning streak of a cruel smile would twist his face up as he replied, "What children? There are no children in my world."
As of now, they were terrified and fumbling in obscurity. Some tumbled down the aisles, their skulls thudding along the stones as they descended. Another eruption in the East wing produced another bout of oddly synced screams. Parents deliriously sought their kids, hands couldn't hold onto each other for long, there was a stampede in the direction of the North exit. A little boy of six, caught in the vicious sea of people making for the hole a blast left in the wall, near the front entrance, heard his mother calling his name. He turned around, knocked this way and that by the legs hurrying by him and was able to catch a glimpse of her, eyes frantic, fifteen feet away from him. "Akhihiko! Akhihiko!"
"Mama-" A swift hit to the nose from someone tearing through the crowd sent blood oozing down his face, into his mouth. His hand flew up to his nose, he was about to call out for his mother again when a resounding boom came from somewhere above them. The ceiling began raining. Blocks of concrete and sheets of dust slammed life to the ground. Fear spurred the people forward and this time, the boy lost the fight. He lost his footing when a throng of frantic oncomers collided with him. Screams were coming out of his throat as he tried to shield himself from the stamping feet and failed. Ten feet away from him his mother braved out the crowd to find her son, her hair a mess, blood trickling down her forehead. "Akhihiko!"
"Akhihiko!"
28 Hours Ago
Tyson dialled Kai's number and held the phone up to his ear. He knew this was a fruitless thing to do. Kai never answered his phone. It was always switched off. Always. But what was the harm in trying?
He listened to the recorded message informing him that the number he had dialled was indeed switched off. Great. Tyson fumed. Where the heck was Kai? He'd been looking for him since morning and there had been no moments of "Eureka! I found you!"
The guy had completely disappeared without a word to him. Tyson narrowed his eyes at the phone. Way to be helpful, Kai. You're the perfect boyfriend everybody needs. His sigh echoed through the glossy corridor. First Dragoon, now you. Who's next?
"Hi"
Tyson started at the sudden voice. He'd thought he was alone. He spun around to see Kiaan watching him from a distance, the soft lights from the hotel's garden illuminating his backdrop.
"Hey.." Tyson walked towards him. "I didn't see you there."
"You're alive and well."
Tyson gave a small laugh. "Sure. Your friend landed me in a hospital. I got to do drugs. Gotta thank him for that."
Kiaan smiled. "I heard you lost your bit beast."
Tyson suppressed the urge to heavily sigh. He focused on the peaceful scenery in front of him instead. The trees stood wrapped in decorative lights, the lacquered walkway wound around them, trimmed red bushes and green hedges lining along. "How did you know?"
"Kieran" He shrugged.
Tyson breathed in as a cool, light breeze blew by. "How is he?"
"He's.." Kiaan frowned, pursing his mouth. "Not in a good place right now."
Tyson's gaze jumped to him. "What do you mean?"
He kept his eyes on Tyson as he moved to stroll outside. "You're the golden boy, Tyson and he hurt you." He addressed the night sky. "Everybody hates him."
"I don't. I'm just wondering why he hasn't-"
Kiaan cut him off. "Apologized to you?"
"Yet" Tyson's boot hit the steps as he began to climb down. "I tried to call him. He wouldn't pick up."
Kiaan hooked a finger into his collar and pulled at his tie. "Kieran never picks up any calls. He doesn't like cell phones."
Tyson wondered about that as he followed him through the garden. The hotel looked spectacular at night. Bathed in light and colours.
"I've been wanting to talk to you for a few days," Kiaan broke the brief silence that had fallen between them.
"Why?"
"Because he wants you to know." Kiaan had a lopsided grin on as he cocked his head at Tyson.
"Who? Kieran?"
"Yes"
"Know what? Why can't he just come and talk to me himself?"
"Impatient, aren't you?" Kiaan's grin grew broader and Tyson's brow wrinkled. "Kind of a long story but I'll make it short. His bit beast absolutely despises you."
Tyson laughed. "Okay. So?"
His smile wiped clean off his face. "Oh boy, this is going to be a long night, isn't it?"
Tyson shoved his hands into his pockets. It started snowing and the flakes glinted in the air. "Why am I always surrounded by condescending assholes?"
His comment drew a grin. "I do not know, Granger. What I do know is that you're totally fuckable."
Tyson's mouth dropped. "Dude"
Kiaan threw his head back and laughed. "That was an opening I couldn't resist."
"There was no opening." He watched him double over, laughter flowing out of him. "What are you even?"
"Definitely not human," he announced as he pulled himself together.
"Thought so"
Kiaan's shoulders shook, unable to control his chuckles and Tyson smiled. "How did you guys meet anyway?"
He flicked his hair out of his eyes. "Got to thank King for that. He introduced me to Kieran and the others two years back."
"Just two?" Tyson had guessed that they'd known each other for longer than just a couple of years. Suddenly, he wanted to dig for more information. "What about the others?"
"Kieran's been with King for more than any of us have. I mean, King found us recently, but he has known him longer than that. They met when Kieran was still little."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah" Kiaan smiled at him. "Do you know about that tribe which used to be in Araranguá?"
"Tribe?" Tyson had no idea. "No"
"Well, there used to be a tribe in the south of Brazil."
"Used to be?" Where were they now?
"Yes. They called themselves the Leões de Araranguá." He grimaced. "I'm sure Kieran can pronounce it better." Tyson was too busy wondering what the words meant to notice. "Anyways, his father was the tribe's Chief, so as a result of that, his full name used to be Kieran Leão de Ararangua."
"That's a cool name."
"It is" Kiaan worked his jaw. "He doesn't use it anymore because the name just depresses the shit out of him."
Tyson's gaze fell to the ground, mind on Kieran. His dazzling smile. "How could he be depressed?" he thought aloud.
"He's the most insecure person I've ever met." He combed a stray lock of hair back and gave a faint snort, mouth curled. "Him and his bit beast, they have a scary bond. Which is why if you have bit beast issues you must consult Kieran first, then go to a doctor."
"You speak a lot of shit," Tyson observed.
"Thank you" Kiaan abruptly stopped in his tracks, a finger raised thoughtfully to his lips, as though he just realized something. "You are totally taking me off course here. Derailing me from where I was going. Tyson Granger, you are a distraction."
"That's what he said," he deadpanned.
"Who?"
"Kai"
Kiaan licked his lips like a wolf eyeing the red riding hood, holding back a grin as he did so. "Okay. Kieran and the Araranguán tribe."
Tyson inhaled, nodding. "Right. Wait-" He laid a hand on Kiaan's arm to get his attention. "Is this what he wanted you to tell me?"
He considered the question, nose pointed towards the heavens. "Yes and no."
Tyson sat down on the edge of the fountain and kicked against it with the back of his boots. "Whatever it is, you gotta hurry up, man. I don't have a lot of time left. I'm blading tonight."
"Oh" Kiaan joined him. "Good luck, you're going to need it."
Snow got stuck in Tyson's eyelashes and he dabbed at it. He felt strangely sad. There were so many thoughts vying for his focus but he could concentrate on none but one. Dragoon. Where are you, buddy? Where are you?
"Our bit beasts are different from yours," Kiaan spoke out of nowhere. Tyson glanced up at him. "Huh?"
His brown hair appeared damp. He had his beyblade out. Red and white. The Champ discovered that he liked looking at him and all the colours he'd thrown together into a single outfit. He resembled a rainbow. Tyson wanted to laugh at that. Rainbow.
"There are two types of bit beasts," Kiaan continued. "Good ones and the dark ones."
Tyson lifted his eyebrows at him.
"I know," he sighed. "I wasn't the one who came up with the names. Some moron did. Anyway, there are two different kinds and the dark bit beasts are unlike the good bit beasts, those which help people when they wish to. The dark spirits don't just help you because they want to. They either do it out of a sense of debt or when you've challenged one and successfully defeated them. Like once they feel like they owe you something, they stick by you as a way of paying you back or they do it because they believe you're their master."
"Master?" Tyson scowled. "What do you mean? Master how?"
"Dragoon found you, didn't he? I had to go hunting for Eldredi." Kiaan opened his palm and the beast glowed in the centre. Tyson carefully picked it up for closer inspection. He couldn't spot any significant differences and he asked, "And how did you..." He searched for the right words. "Convince her to go with you?"
"Well, she attacked me, I survived," Kiaan said matter-of-factly. Then noticing the perplexed look on Tyson's face, he added, "I wasn't supposed to survive."
"So," He gave it his all to make himself not come off as derisive as he phrased his sentence. "Now you're her master because she thinks that you somehow...bested her?" It still came out corny and he gritted his teeth.
"Yes" He scrunched his mouth up. "But it's rarely ever that easy. Eldredi is the spirit of the cone snail you see, she's poisonous but that's all she has going for her. There are beasts out there who are capable of bringing the dead back to life. They're fearsome. Scary as fuck. Some are so damn powerful there's no way you could challenge them and make it out alive. Hell, it'd be a miracle if you were lucky enough to find one. The higher up they are on the food chain-"
"The food chain?"
"That's what I call it but there's this whole system of monarchy going on over there. There's a whole kingdom of dark beasts and the one on the topmost rung..." He drew forward and Tyson automatically, leaned in, expecting. Kiaan made to say something, then thought better of it and grinned. "Well, nobody's ever getting there, so what's the point of teasing you with the forbidden fruit?"
Tyson felt surprisingly disappointed, still he wondered. About everything he learned from his own experiences, from Kai, from his friends and how this new revelation fit in with all of that. How did Kiaan know so much? "What about the good bit beasts? Do they have something similar too?"
"If you're asking me if they have a kingdom as well, I'd say no. They're too good for that." He winked. "Kieran tells me they have a council consisting of four incredibly powerful bit beasts." Tyson's head shot up. "Oh yeah! He's right! I know about that. Dragoon's one of them!"
"What do you mean?" His brows knitted together. "It is possible..."
Excitement seemed to bubble out of Tyson. "Kai, Max, Rei and I, we've got the four!"
Kiaan listened to Tyson happily telling him about how each of them managed to win over the loyalty of their bit beasts and how they were more like best friends and less like master and slave (a choice of words which prompted Kiaan to frown) and how good bit beasts were way better than dark ones (Who wouldn't want an other-worldly best friend?) with an air of calm disdain. When Tyson finally settled down, he spoke, eyes cold, "And where is he? Where is your alleged best friend?"
Tyson didn't have an answer for that as he sought the marble on which he was sitting on for explanation.
"Better get yourself a dark bit beast." Kiaan concluded smugly. "You know, the Araranguáns used to employ them to fight their battles. I'm not talking about beyblade. I mean real battles. Tribe wars." Tyson chewed on a thumb, eyes on the blader in front of him. "They used them for all sorts of purposes. Young boys prided themselves on claiming a beast as their own. They learned to hunt and maim at a very young age and the older they grew, the stronger they got and the more dangerous their beasts became. They pit the spirits against one another and made a sport out of it. But the tribe Chief was the best among the lot and consequently he had the worst beast at his disposal. Legend has it that there was nothing this beast couldn't achieve."
"Is that the forbidden fruit you wouldn't tell me about?"
Kiaan chuckled. "It's just a story."
"But you said that-" Tyson found his head starting to swim.
"Don't dream about that which you do not desire." Kiaan slid onto his feet.
"What is that even supposed to mean?" He couldn't follow a single train of thought around him. Tyson caught up to him as he wend his way across a bed of flowers, stomping on the petals.
"Kieran was different," Kiaan proclaimed when he reached his side. Ethereal precipitation gemmed the atmosphere. The temperature drop hadn't affected the blossoms yet, it was still early in the season. It would soon though and that meant these were the last moments of the year to adore the florescence before most of the vegetation began to die and everything wilted away.
"You're changing the subject." Tyson scratched his forehead through his bangs.
"You're the distraction." There was an umbrella-like flurry of white as he plucked a small pink flower from a nearby tree.
"I don't think I am anymore."
"Kieran never hurt a single hair on his bit beast's body." He shred the petals into pieces, one at a time. "He saved her from another kid who was trying to fatally wound her. That's why she's with him."
Tyson, unable to take it anymore, marched forward, swung around and halted right in from of him. "Dude, you keep jumping from one topic to another. It's confusing me."
"Is it?" His eyes flitted toward him. "Then, what do you want to know?"
Tyson had one too many options to choose from. He chose the most imposing one among them. "What happened to the tribe?"
"You skipped forward, honey." He crumpled the remains of the flower in his fist. "Kieran happened"
Laughter chimed from above them and Tyson looked up at the balconies. Five floors higher, Brooklyn was lazing on one of the balustrades. Fingers clasped behind him, feet inside the balcony, one leg draped over a knee, he coolly watched Hiro attempt to reason with him. He brought a hand up to stifle a yawn, head tilting away from his coach as he did so and Hiro latched onto his hand half-way to his mouth, demanding he keep his gaze on him, but quickly abandoned it once Brooklyn reached for his jaw. Tyson, bewildered out of his mind as he gawped at them, managed to get a syllable out. "Yeah?"
Kiaan continued. "Kieran told me that King was the one who introduced beyblade to them. Until then, bit beasts were only used for...well, you know, other purposes. Never for beyblading. King taught a few how and the game took over the land like wildfire." Brooklyn's laughter spilled into the night in joyful tinkles and Tyson stared on as his brother buried his head in his arms on the railing. "Kieran was his favourite disciple. He bladed well. A tournament was set up and the winner got to battle the Chief. And of course, Kieran won. But what nobody expected was what happened once he challenged his father."
Tyson turned to face Kiaan. "What happened?"
"The worst thing you could possibly imagine."
He waited, guessing at the events that could've taken place. He shook his head in a way of asking him "what?" when Kiaan didn't elaborate. Surely, it couldn't be that bad. Kiaan smiled grimly. "The Chief won."
Tyson recalled Kieran's words from that night. "So, his bit beast killed him?" He cocked an eyebrow.
"Yes" Kiaan agreed. "But that's not all. Remember that I told you that the Chief's impossible beast was a legend? This is the reason. If his father's beast was so powerful, Obliqua wouldn't have been so upset by Kieran's loss. It goes against the rules of the food chain. If you're a sardine, you don't complain when a shark eats you. But the Chief had won and she went absolutely berserk. I still don't know how she managed to single-handedly wreck the place or if there was something else nobody knew about but Kieran believes so and he and King are the only ones who witnessed the whole...catastrophy and lived to tell the tale. Whatever it was, his father paid the price along with the rest of the tribe and King whisked him away after that."
Tyson's mouth hung open in outrage. "The entire tribe?"
"Wiped them off the face of the-" Kiaan snapped his fingers. "-fucking Earth."
"Is she really capable of something like that?" He couldn't for the life of him, comprehend why anybody, human or ancient spirit, would do such a thing.
"The strictly logical part of me takes Kieran's stranger tales with a pinch of salt but I've seen enough to know better than to challenge him to a serious beybattle." Kiaan darkened, eyes seeming far away. Tyson stared at him for a relatively endless moment, baffled to the point of no return. "So what you're saying is that.." He licked his lips, thinking as he spoke, "Unless I don't have a dark spirit with me who is far more...dangerous than Obliqua, there is no way I can win against her and survive?"
Kiaan squinted. "Yes"
"What if Dragoon happens to be better than her?"
"They wouldn't need a four-beast council if only one of them was enough to hold authority now, would they?"
"Okay that is..." Tyson flailed his arms, refusing to believe. "Bullshit. You're making it sound impossible. There's just no way, I..." He closed his eyes and opened them to level him a "let's be reasonable" look. "No, Kiaan. I don't believe it."
"Suit yourself" he shrugged.
Tyson rolled his eyes and they bounced right back up to settle on the third balcony from the right on the fifth floor when he heard Kiaan whisper, "I bet he could, though," with his gaze on the master of Zeus.
Amidst the beady curtain of ice crystals, Brooklyn extended an arm outwards, smiling at the air in admiration and Hiro stood by his side, elbows balanced on the railing, observing him from behind steepled fingers.
30 Minutes Ago
The lights dimmed prior to the start of the match. Fifty-four thousand fans, seated in the stadium, biting their fingernails in excitement were oblivious to the figures lurking in the corners, disabling surveillance cameras which were close enough to pick the assailants out of the crowd. After the events of the night before, which left them all in a state of wonder, the winner of this game could be the choice of a wild guess.
The stadium had a unique architecture. It was oval in shape and had a decently-sized, glass dome at the very centre of the enclosing roof. The seats ran along the entire circumference of the arena in multiple layers but the most significant yet unnoticed flaw was that the roof had one too many blind spots for the cameras to call it "secured" and these spots were being put to their best use tonight. They'd hide out here and then jump in when the foretold mayhem breaks out.
"Ready, boys?" A sudden voice crackled through the tiny transmitters fixed in their ears, and the stark cold tone caused their neck muscles to cord up. The voice had a distinct unnatural quality to it that set the speaker apart from the rest of them. These were roughened men. They'd been through the wringer, served time, their bodies had both inflicted pain and endured pain. They'd watched men slit their own throats and savoured every moment of it, had kidnapped pre-pubescent girls and pushed them so far as to set themselves on fire to escape from their violating hands. They wore marks on their torso for their bravery and their wretchedness. Yet the stony drop of the voice that commanded their every action arrested the air in their lungs each time. And it had a message to convey.
He was here.
"Ready, Boss."
He undertook the most difficult of missions, but bombing a stadium down was a piece of cake when it came to complexity, so the men were confounded as to why he'd be joining them. One of the soldiers, positioned behind one of the huge support blocks resting at intervals at the highest level of the stadium in the South wing, distinguishable by a very elaborate tattoo crawling up the side of his face, motioned to his nearest comrade. "You see him?" he mouthed, gesturing back and forth between his eyes and their surroundings with two fingers, to the guy crouching beside a construction pipe and the back of the top row.
The guy answered with a nod.
The tattooed soldier nearly abandoned his post. "What? You see him?!"
The other guy inclined forward, trying to understand his partner. "What are you saying?" he mouthed.
"Boss" he drew out the vowel, pointing to his head. "You see him?"
Finally deciphering the signs, the crouching crewman, scanned the place as best as he could without exposing himself. His gaze caught a movement behind the overly bright lights above them, near the edge of the dome. Just a flicker of a shadow. He could've been imagining it because there was no further indication of anybody skulking there and moreover the lamps were blinding him. He turned back around and gave a negative.
"How many of you motherfuckers are in here?" the Boss spat.
"Ten"
There was a low whistle. "Guess it's a good day to die, huh?"
That was true. This was their last mission and it was such an honour that their boss was accompanying them. In their world, this was a heck of a way to go.
24 Hours Ago
It had been a complete disaster from the very beginning. Tyson remembered pulling the string and that was the only thing he could say had gone his way. Everything else after that had been a gigantic humiliation. Never before in his life had he looked that bad in front of anyone.
There were a number of things that went noticeably wrong. The first was the bizarre jerk his blade had given as it zipped out of the launcher, the second was the sheer lack of control he could exercise over the bey and the third and the most embarrassing one had been the fact that he'd pretty much thrown himself out of the dish. All Ming-Ming had to do was stand and watch him dig a grave for his own reputation.
What the fuck had just happened?!
As Tyson lay with his head in Hilary's lap, he could still hear the chanting of the crowd. They way they'd taken Kai's name to mock him, how they'd switched sides in a matter of seconds and the force with which it had stung him. A tear leaked out of the corner of his eye and Hilary wiped it away. "I don't understand."
"I know," she said, "I don't either."
He felt angry. Because it didn't make any sense whatsoever. What was the cause for the eccentric behaviour of his blade? Kenny had taken the blade apart to check for damage as well as to see if anything was out of place the moment he stormed into the locker room.
"Tyson?" Kenny suddenly spoke, a distinct note of alarm in his voice. Tyson stopped breathing. "What?"
"It looks like somebody tampered with your blade."
Tyson shot up and rushed over to his side with Hilary at his heels. Max, Rei and Daichi stood around the table where the Chief was busy with a lens in his right hand, Vortex lying in parts before him and tools scattered all over the place. "What do you mean?"
"Do you see this?" Kenny tipped the lower half of the blade and the lens toward Tyson, who immediately leaned in to peek into it. The inner walls of the blade's bottom cavity were smooth and flawless, he couldn't identify any signs of damage and he frowned up at the Chief. "Do you see the tiny coil attached to the base?" Tyson looked again and he spotted the slim coil wired inside the small inside room of the base. "Yeah" he nodded.
"I didn't put it in there," Kenny told him. "When I designed this blade, I designed it in a way that gave maximum freedom to the base. There was no coil. Tyson. There was nothing in there." He seemed furious, pausing as he stared into the Champ's eyes. "Moreover" he continued. "It's not exactly a coil. It's actually an elastic string connecting the base to the bottom of the mid-section wall around the central piece holding the blade together, restricting its movement. You were wondering why your bey wouldn't follow the direction in which you pointed it at, right? This is the reason. Once the base starts spinning, the wire would tighten and tighten around the centre till your blade came to a halt for a fraction of a second and then spring back, causing the base to move in the opposite direction."
"Why would somebody go to such great lengths just to get me out of the tournament? I mean, I don't even have a bit beast at the moment. I was going to lose anyway."
"You should've let me test your blade before the match, Tyson." Kenny scowled at him.
"Why didn't you?" Rei asked him.
"Because I tested it last night."
"And it was fine?" Max joined in.
"Yes and I've had it on my person all day today."
"Where were you though last night?" Hilary asked him. "I didn't see you the whole evening."
"Tyson, you sleep like a log," Daichi reminded him. "Anybody could've snagged your blade."
"But I wasn't just anywhere." Tyson's fingers took his frustration out on his hair. "I was with K-" A sudden thought hit him in the face and he stopped. Could it be? He needed to think. He needed some air. "I'll be right back," he told a very puzzled group standing around him and walked out without his blade.
His feet guided him toward the parking lot, but he wasn't aware of where he was going. He didn't even care. Because the slew of thoughts putting his mind into perspective were coming in too fast. Going at a mile a minute.
The last time he saw his blade before he fell asleep, it was on the bedside table. The person who'd stowed it there hadn't been him. It was Kai. When he woke up, the blade wasn't on the table but by his head on the pillow, and he hadn't thought twice about it because, well, he had no reason to. Kai wasn't lying next to him either when he woke. And again, he had no reason to think twice about it, because he always rose earlier. But the problem was that if Tyson hadn't once lost sight of his blade since today morning, it made Kai the last person to touch it other than him. And since they'd been blading just before they turned the lights out and were engaged in a completely different kind of battle, it meant that Vortex hadn't had anybody crack it open and equip it with any unnecessary band till they went to bed.
Or till he went to bed.
Tyson gripped one of the double doors leading out into the lot. His knees felt jelly-like. Kai wouldn't. He wouldn't dare. And why would he when he was the one most eager to help him get Dragoon back? He'd went out of his way to help him. Went out of his effing character. Wait a minute. Why would he want to help him anyway? Because Kai was so in love with him? He didn't think his bedroom skills were that good either. Hell, he was a virgin. He knew nothing. He just did whatever he wanted to.
So why was Kai trying to help him when they were rivals in beyblading? Out of the goodness of his heart? Tyson knew Kai had principles and many. And yes he could find an explanation for his sudden decision to give his rival a hand, but what plausible explanation could he possibly find for the fact that Kai had kissed him first? Kai didn't even like guys. It wasn't like the question had never bothered him. It constantly loomed at the back of his mind and Kai'd never given him a proper answer no matter how many times he'd pressed. Tyson thought he knew Kai, but he still managed to surprise him every now and then. And sometimes, the surprise was more like a slap to the face than a jolt to the heart. Kai had messed with Dragoon Vortex. His most treasured blade ever. He'd held it dearer than his own life and Kai knew. Yet he still did it. It wasn't as though the Chief couldn't fix the bey but the fact that Kai dared to so much as look at it with a wrong intention in his mind stirred a flare of anger in Tyson so vehement he slammed the door shut with a force that made the thick glass rattle in its frame. And when the jeering chant of the crowd surfaced back to the front of his mind, Tyson tore it open and kicked it, sending the door flying back to its place of rest.
Ten minutes later, he walked back into the locker room and addressed his friends. "Guys, you have to listen to me and tell me if I'm wrong because if I don't get another point of view on this right now, I don't know what I'm going to do."
"What is it?" Rei jumped up and a Hilary followed with a "what's wrong?". The Chief prompted if he'd found out the person who'd sabotaged his match with Ming-Ming and Daichi crossed his arms and said,"Talk".
Max squeezed Tyson's shoulder. "Calm down and tell us, Ty."
"Okay" He nodded, pulling in a long breath. "Voltaire told Kai that Petronarch was the main reason he had no family now, except for Voltaire, that is."
"Wait, Petronarch?" Rei narrowed his eyes at him. "Isn't that King's company?"
"Enterprise. Petronarch's got a group of directors," Kenny butted in. "It's not his company alone."
"Will you shut up?" Daichi shot them an annoyed look. "You talk, Tyson."
"Hold on a second!" Hilary waved in Tyson's attention. "Kai's family was murdered by a group of rich jerks?"
"No, not really. Voltaire claims that they killed his wife and so, Kai's father went crazy and drove his wife and son nuts too." Guilt, something that had no basis for its new residence in Tyson's chest, lowered his gaze to the ground. "Both of them eventually committed suicide which caused Susumu to drive himself off a bridge with Kai in the backseat. He died but Kai survived."
"That's terrible" Hilary spoke after a minute of shocked silence.
"Poor Kai" Max found his tongue next. "How old was he when all of this happened?"
"Five or six, I think." The guilt manifested itself and Tyson fought hard to shove it away. He didn't have to feel guilty. He was doing nothing wrong. Nevertheless, a tiny voice whispered to him. "Kai trusted you." Tyson frowned. I trusted him and he made a fool out of me. Repeatedly. Go screw yourself.
He looked around at the pitying, heartbroken faces around him – even Daichi had sympathy in his expression – and gritted his teeth. "Anyway" he enunciated the word. "Kai couldn't believe Voltaire just like that so he and I." He gulped. "We, went to his mansion yesterday since Voltaire's on a business tour to see if he'd hidden anything in there that could testify to what he told Kai about his family."
"Did you find anything?" Kenny asked intrigued.
"Yes. He found a file on Petronarch."
"And?"
"And there was a couple of newspaper clippings in there about his family members." He scratched his head. "It was a big file and I know that he didn't read it right away. Not last night while I was still awake, I mean." His mind revisited the events that followed and Tyson found his anger ebbing further away. He remembered the callouses of Kai's palms coasting over his cheeks, cradling his chin and Kai's smile. He found himself starting to forget that he was mad at Kai and so he spoke quickly. "We went to his room to sleep." He saw Rei giving Max a sideways glance, who returned it. "And I clearly remember him locking the door behind us. We bladed for a while and so you know, Dragoon was still in the best shape then." He stalled, trying to come up with a lie. He couldn't tell them that clothes came off right after that match. "I had to go to the bathroom and so I handed Dragoon to Kai. I remember seeing it by the bedside, on the table before I fell asleep, but when I woke up, it was on my pillow."
"You sure that nobody else had access to your blade after you gave it to Kai last night?"
"One hundred percent," Tyson swore.
Hilary bit her lip, deep in thought. "You know, it kinda makes sense for it to be Kai because he's been getting a little too close to Tyson ever since Kenny gave him that blade."
Max, Rei and Kenny exchanged a look between themselves and Tyson began to question everything about their relationship.
"Where is that 'tough guy'?" Daichi inquired. "I never liked him. If he's a cheater, then I hate him."
"Cheater?" Chief repeated. "Kai is many things but a cheater is not one of them. We all know this."
"But how come he's always deserting you guys?" Hilary countered. "He's never around when you need him."
"He actually came back-" Max began defending.
"Once" Hilary reminded him. "And that was not because he was loyal to you guys, it was just because he wanted to kick Brooklyn's behind."
"But what abou-"
"What about it? He's a lying, deceiving-"
"Okay" Tyson raised his voice. "We get it, Hilary." He pierced her with a look and Max hung his head. Tyson waited for one of his friends to come up with another possibility. Some explanation which would justify Kai's actions. And in those brief moments of silence, he replayed every minute he'd spent with Kai in the past two days and tried to point out the truth in them. "Where is he?" he ground out.
Max massaged his shoulder. "Easy buddy-" He was stunned when Tyson threw his arm off. "No, Max. I am not letting him get away with this. Fuck, I'm not his freaking toy!"
23 Hours 30 Minutes Ago
"May I have a word with you?"
"Oh fuck off, Hiro."
Ten Minutes Ago
Living in the world just for the sake of living was for the weak and the intellectually challenged. Nobody is alive for no reason. The universe is governed by laws. Everything has a reason and so does human life. So, when you live make sure that you live a life worthy of being crowed about.
Whatever you do, ensure that it is of consequence. Strive to be the perpetrator of at least one event which would be remembered for generations. If you can't do that then what is the point of living? Fifty-four thousand people. Fifty-four thousand wastes of space. This would be a favour to humanity. Two coin-sized depthless black orbs eyed the people with the intensity of a calculating predator as they gaped in awe at the bit beast curling itself into a ball. Bizarre. This was it. He adjusted the mask covering his identity and checked the cylinders of the two handguns for bullets with a couple of smooth flicks of his wrists and swung them back in position.
"Ladies" he growled into the microphone. "I say it's time to move your asses."
"Yes, Boss" Came the immediate reply.
Naive sons of bitches, aren't they? He thought to himself. And they call themselves men. Spineless fuckers.
He jumped off the lighting support, his back to the ground below, limbs outstretched, guns pointing toward the sky.
Fucking kill them all.
And opened fire.
30 Minutes Ago
"Listen to me, Brooklyn-"
"-No, you listen to me, Hiro." Brooklyn touched his fingers to his arm. "You don't have to worry about me." He paused, letting the words sink in. "Zeus and I, we have a plan."
The cheering of the mass suddenly soared in intensity as Jazzman amped up the hype, piling on the pressure and the high started a thunder in the chests of the two bladers currently waiting in the tunnel counting down the ticks of the clock.
Hiro exhaled in tiny puffs of air. "Brook, trust is not the issue here. Safety is. You saw what happened to Tyson and you and I both know that the one thing my brother can do properly is beyblade. Dickenson is not going to stop him no matter how many rules he violates or whom he injures. How can you support this barbaric tournament?"
Brooklyn didn't reply right away and the people were chanting another song by the time he answered. "Haven't we already had this conversation?"
"The last time you weren't in your rig-" He caught himself before he ended up offending him at the worst possible moment. Hiro closed his eyes and then met the sincere blue gaze directed at him. He decided to go with the absolute truth. "I don't want you to do this."
"Why?"
"No good could come out of you putting yourself at risk."
Brooklyn gave him a small smile. "I admire you, Hiro. You know exactly what to say to break my resolve." The Coach felt his heart skip a beat. "Are you pulling out?"
"I didn't say that."
Hiro turned away exasperated, hands raking through his hair. "Why" His voice rose. "Do you have to be so stubborn?"
"This would be a good time to coach me."
Hiro stared at him. Brooklyn happily stared back.
"FIFTEEN MINUTES, FOLKS! MY NAME IS IMPATIENCE!"
The vibration thrummed in the atmosphere and Hiro found his Adam's apple quivering. He was too tense and his blood was pumping too fast through his veins. He tried to keep up with his heart but the effort began tiring him out. He felt his muscles loosen, legs turning liquid.
Brooklyn approached him with a solemn expression. He stopped a feet from his coach. "I'm not being immature, Hiro," he told him. "I know what I'm doing."
He placed a hand along his jaw and Hiro didn't flinch away. The line of five circles of powerful lights behind them in the tunnel, glared like blazing suns between the two. "Trust me. Why won't you trust me?"
A flattening bout of shouts went up and they nearly swallowed Hiro's voice as he spoke. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you that I do for you to believe me."
"Then let me go." The moment Hiro bent his head in a nod, he felt the Earth tilt on its axis. "And remember that reality is only an illusion and never allow fear to define your limits."
Now
Tyson lost his footing and nearly impaled himself on a sharp wooden stake of a broken bench, he managed to grab onto the curved frame of the aluminium dugout shelter just in time. He swung off of the dugout, carefully manoeuvring over the broken bench and hit the ground. Why was he gunning for the centre of peril while everybody else was scurrying for the exits? When the Granger family rounded-up their family members and friends once they were a safe distance from immediate harm, one had been missing. Hiro. And Tyson had cursed like he'd never cursed his brother ever before and dashed toward the stadium with all his might.
He'd gone to save Brooklyn and that was perfectly understandable except for the fact that Brooklyn was already dead. Everybody had seen it. And now his entire family and friends were in danger because of a sudden neurotic notion. Tyson shielded himself with his arms and crouched down when another bomb went off somewhere in the vicinity and the world rocked. The attack came in tiny servings of terror, as if killing them all in one big bang would be too boring. The last one, took out all the lights and humans clutched in the dark. There was a huge rip down the length of Tyson's jacket sleeve and blood formed dark patches on the fabric.
Obliqua continued screaming, rolling around the stadium like a ping-pong ball in a bowl and people decomposed in her close proximity. Tyson, numbed out in pure horror and bewilderment, quickly scanned for his brother while she was still near the East wing, a shadow of berserk, a good distance from him and found him at the side of the beydish on his fours. "Hiro!" he cried and it was barely audible in the chaos.
Tyson waded through the debris as fast as he could and absently noted something moist and soft cling to his boot and he prayed that it had nothing to do with anything human. "Hiro!" he shouted as he reached him, diverting his attention from what Hiro was kneeling next to. He didn't want to look at that. It was too much. Just too much.
"Hiro, come on! Let's go!" He tugged his brother's arm. His hair hung limp around his face. Tyson kept seeing it through the corner of his vision and for a moment he wished he was blind in the left eye. Brooklyn. Brooklyn. Brooklyn. He tried not to think but that was all he could think. That was Brooklyn.
He bent down and yanked Hiro's shoulders. "Stop this! We're all going to die! Let's go!" He shook him violently, hurting his arm, his head, till he felt dizzy. Hiro finally looked up and focused on him. His mouth seemed to be stuck in a silent scream. Tyson started crying. Hiro. Hiro. Hiro. Don't cry. You're the strongest person I know. You're the calm in the storm. Please don't break. Tyson took hold of both of his arms and pulled him up to his knees. "He's dead. Hiro! You're going to kill us too! We have to move!"
Obliqua swerved, barrelling in their direction and Tyson became hysterical. He shrieked at his brother. "Hiro, what are you doing?! He's dead! Don't you see, he's dead! You'll kill us all! You'll kill us all! Move it! Move it! Get up!" His nails dug into Hiro's shoulders and at last he seemed to be coming to his senses. "They're all waiting for us! We have to get out of here! Now! Come on!" The bit beast and all her spikes, sticking out in the air like branches of a wicked tree, bounded in at an alarming speed and Tyson yelled his throat dry. He seized Hiro's face, his own full of tears. "Hiro! Listen to me! You have a-" Hiro snapped into consciousness and gripped Tyson's arm. "Come on!" They were about to rise to their feet when a massive shadow swept over them. In the face of danger, Tyson acted out of pure impulse. A surge of firm belief and illogical trust in oneself and one's abilities that arrive when a man's family is threatened. An overwhelming urge to protect them and not think otherwise which stirs a man to place faith in his own powers even more than could be considered sensible, took over Tyson in that moment of peril, fuelling him to close his eyes and extend his arms with the full intention of blocking the disaster coming for them without any external help and support in strength whatsoever, even as Hiro threw himself at Tyson, taking him to the ground.
Tyson felt the hollowing ripple begin in his stomach as his back hit the floor, then spread through his chest, up his spine, through his muscles, then everywhere. He was aware of the coolness of his palm, where he expected a sting or a hundred to tack him to the Earth like pins. It was the kind of cold you feel when you touch something too hot. For some reason, all he could think of was the glowing swirl of blue and it kept charging him. Whatever pain his body had been in for the past several minutes were gone now. He felt anew, reborn, as though he was invincible now. As though he could walk on water, tread clouds, disintegrate mountains. Where there were once too many thoughts running around in his mind for him to focus on, now there was only one. Complete.
Tyson opened his eyes and stared at his hands, upright, fingers splayed in the dark, like he was trying to stop something. His body hummed of the sensation he was in only a few moments ago, but it was mostly gone now and all the aches and pains were slowly returning. He blinked and looked around him. He saw Hiro, who had his face in the dirt, eyes pinched shut, still breathing. He saw the beast that had been aiming for them a hundred metres from them, hurtling away, killing people in her path. And he looked at the pandemonium and wondered what just happened. Then, he pushed the questions away for later and helped Hiro to his feet. He appeared dishevelled, but healthy overall. "Fucking crazy bitch." Hiro's eyes were ablaze with vengeance, then he looked at Tyson and they changed. "Come on, let's get out of here."
They were ten steps out through the nearest exit when a huge explosion vibrated through Japan. Tyson and Hiro were thrown to the other end of the parking lot and Hiro's head hit the bumper of a car. Tyson saw stars and he lay paralyzed on the asphalt for a minute with the names of his loved ones jammed in his throat. His breath returned soon after and he wiggled his fingers and toes, tested his ankles and checked himself for any major injuries. He'd landed on his right shoulder, so it hurt the most. He was comparatively fine everywhere else, just a few minor scrapes here and there. He turned to see Hiro who was already sitting up, holding his head. "Are you okay?" Tyson's voice sounded scratchy.
"I hit my head pretty bad. What about you?"
"I'm okay. You probably have a concussion."
Hiro didn't speak right away. "We need to get to a safer distance," he said after a while.
"What about the others?"
"They're probably fine." He shut his eyes, pained. "Come on, Tyson."
They slowly got up, supporting each other and made their way across the various lanes of the lot, toward the road leading to the stadium from the south. Hiro leaned heavily against Tyson and they were practically dragging their feet by the time they reached a somewhat safer zone. The road was empty when they reached it. Of course, a lot of time hadn't passed since the first blast, but it felt like they'd been clomping across the lot for eons.
A sudden tremor went through the atmosphere surrounding them and the deafening ferocity of the boom that followed pushed them off balance. The entire stadium was on fire and it was hot like the sun had fallen on earth. "Dad" Tyson couldn't stay away from them any longer and he began moving towards where he last saw them. Hiro heaved him down by the back of his collar and Tyson's elbows skinned on the rough asphalt as he tripped. "I want to see him, Hiro."
"Just wait"
"No"
"Wait for them to leave."
"Whom?"
"Them" Tyson followed his gaze and there, highlighted by the burning background, a human-sized line of black traipsed around like a vulture picking through its collection of dead meat. A shiver went through him. "We need to hide."
"Stay low" Hiro motioned toward the nearby tree and they backed against its trunk.
"If it comes this way, we'll climb the tree, okay?" Tyson looked at Hiro with wide eyes and he pulled him close. Tyson listened to the thud of Hiro's heart. Sure and steady like the calm in the storm he'd always known his brother to be. He felt like he was a different kind of invincible now. And then Hiro said, "I'll knock him out before he can get to you."
Tyson smiled, shining through the dirt all over his face. "We can take him down together."
"Sure" Hiro smiled back and even as Tyson's world was charring and crashing to the ground behind their tree, he could not help but feel hopeful. And strong. Very strong.
"I missed you," he told him.
Hiro's smile reduced to a small, sad one. And then he promised. "I'll never leave you again."
Tyson grinned at him, tears in his eyes. He wondered why they were ever mad at each other. If it was as simple as this, why did he never tell him? All of their arguments and the resentful feeling Tyson had harboured in his heart felt pointless and insignificant in that moment. Why couldn't they have always just loved each other? Because honestly, he couldn't possibly have asked for a better brother.
"I'm going to go check on them."
"Do you even know where they are?"
"They must be around somewhere, right?" Tyson argued, "I mean, I know Max and Rei wouldn't just up and go. They'd be looking for us."
"Right"
"How's your head?"
"My vision's going black." Hiro wiggled his eyebrows up and down, blinking as he did so. "I need to get to a hospital."
Tyson inhaled the air and wrinkled his nose. The sooty smell and something else that he didn't want to guess at made him slightly nauseous. "Uh...do you have your phone?"
"I think." Hiro awkwardly fished for his phone in his jeans and finally managed to extract it. He dialled a number and held it up to his ear. He rested his head against the trunk, eyelids drooping.
"Keep yourself awake, okay?" Tyson warned him. "Hey" He lightly tapped Hiro's cheek.
"I'm awake, Tyson," he growled. "Go find the others."
"Will you be okay by yourself?"
"Go"
"I'll be back as fast as I can." Tyson peered around the tree toward the still lit arena for the vultures. When he didn't spot any, he quickly ran back across the roads and made his way safely around the inferno, all the while keeping an eye out for his friends. Dad and Grampa were stationed a good distance from the front entrance and so were the others. Although, he feared his friends had probably come after him and then lost track. He hoped they were all okay.
He was half-way through the last letter of the word 'loser' he was spelling out on Stanley Dickenson's chest when he ran out of bullets. "Oh...fuck" He stamped on the former chairman's hand. "That's okay, a knife is just as good as any gun and way more fun." He sucked on his front tooth. "I need my bullets back though."
He slid out a serrated knife from his boot and set to work. The fire around him danced in his eyes as he carved. "Mommy taught me not to waste what was useful to me," he said, "Bitch is dead, so I got to follow her orders now or she might come haunt me."
He plunged his hand in and felt around for bullets. "I don't like ghosts and also, these are special ones." He came up with three. "Nice haul. Let's try again." He was leaning closer and drawing the knife down when he sensed movement in his periphery. He sat up and observed as three boys and a girl sprinted out from their hiding place. He knew some of them had escaped and he let them go because he thought that if they could save their own asses, then they couldn't be absolutely worthless. Perhaps, the earth could use them. But if they were dumb enough to come back after they'd gotten to safety…
He uprooted his tool and licked it clean with a slithering tongue. He replaced his mask on his face and the bullets in the gun and prowled toward his prey. The kids, three brunettes and a blonde, were hovering over three gasping bodies and shouting. The girl talked non-stop and his hands twitched to strangle that throat, slit that no-good piece of-
She shrieked when she noticed him approaching them. They were only a few feet from him now. The boys turned around and the blonde one was nearest to him. He had his fragile throat clamped between his fingers before he could so much as blink. The others backed away from him. He wondered what was it about him that made people cower away from him without putting up much of a fight. Was it the masks? Yeah, those were pretty scary. He designed them himself.
The tallest one of the group was saying something. He couldn't understand the language but that was not really necessary. They all spoke the same language when faced by death. Let him go…
He smelled the blonde's hair. He smelled good, so he wanted a taste. He applied a slight pressure against the boy's neck with the knife so it drew a trickle of blood. The boy whimpered in his grasp. Just like he liked it. He was about to have a taste when there came a shout from behind him. He turned around to encounter tonight's hero.
Tyson couldn't fully comprehend the scene before him. Max was in some terrorist's hold, his father and grandfather along with Daichi lay fighting for their life on the ground and the other three, Rei, Kenny and Hilary were too scared to do much.
He closed the final fifteen feet between them, yelling all the way at the man who was keeping them all immobilized. "Please!" he begged when he reached them. "Don't hurt them. Please don't."
A trail of blood ran down Max's throat. The knife digging into his neck was too sharp. The man, wearing a skin-fitting set of black clothes with the face like that of a victim of a fresh acid attack stood tall behind him, eyes like trenches. He spoke something in a foreign language and Tyson frowned. "What?"
His voice sounded odd and Tyson's heart skipped several beats. What the fuck? Was he even human? His father groaned and Tyson fisted his hair. "Look. Man, I—I don't know who you are and what you want from us. Please just let us go. I mean, they-they're dying! That's my family. Please, I'll give you whatever you want. Okay? You don't have to do this. We'll talk this out, okay, buddy? We'll tal-"
He pushed Max away, savagely, by his forelock and Tyson exhaled a breath of relief. The man was near him in a flash and Tyson gagged as he was lifted off the ground, he heard Hilary scream. He clawed at the gloved hands straining his breath out and kicked with his legs. The terrorist flung him on the pavement and three different sets of shouts went up. Tyson could feel his skull throbbing. He groaned, palming his head. He hoped Max was alright.
The man grabbed his shirt and hoisted him up. "Let me go." His head lolled back, too heavy for him to raise it, the chain Kai had given him slipped out from his shirt and the star plummeted down to his nose. He felt his assailant go still and then he was jerking him, shouting things at him he could not understand. Tyson tried to free himself from the man's grip but he was too strong. His head hurt too much as he was jiggled like a doll and he cried out in English. "I don't understand a word you're saying!"
The shaking stopped along with the foreign shouts. Silence dominated the night as the fire behind them slowly began to die. His shirt was let loose, but before he could fall, he was pulled up by his chain. The man brought him close enough for Tyson to breathe in his breath and he shivered as he spoke without any accent. "Where did you steal this necklace from?"
Tyson gazed up and met pits of contained wrath. "Somebody gave it to me."
"Dont lie!" He thundered in his face and Tyson winced. "I swear bitch if you're lying..."
"I'm not"
"Who gave it to you?" The chain was starting to penetrate into his neck and Tyson swallowed painfully. "My grandmother"
He was aware of the stillness that took over his captor once again and he wondered who the fuck Voltaire's wife had been. How did this freak of nature know her? He watched him study him. Assess him from head to toe.
"Grandmother?" he asked. "What's her name?"
"She's dead"
"I asked you what her name was."
Tyson began to open his mouth to tell him when he was released all of a sudden. He collapsed to the ground. "Don't fucking tell me her name."
He gaped at him confused, then looked back to his loved ones. The terrorist tracked his gaze and said, "I'll do you a favour, you come pay me back when you're of age."
Tyson looked up at him, full of gratitude and relief, as he towered over him. May be he hadn't been planning to wound his friends at all. May be he was here as part of some rescue mission or something and he had probably been threatening them to see if they were involved in the bombings. Top secret police and all. His lips were beginning to pull up in a smile when he noticed the man aim his gun.
Three quick, successive shots sounded in the night.
