Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.
WARRIOR: VOLUME TWO (M RATED) IS NOW UP! Link- s/12863923/1/WARRIOR-VOLUME-TWO
CHAPTER 44
The trouble is
you think you
have time
Buddha
NORMAL POV:
Rei paced the length of the waiting area at the entrance to the operating theatre numb and tired, almost unaware of the tense movement of his legs. The grimy floor tiles blurred by his bloodshot eyes, the glare of the overhead lights and the smell of disinfectants clouding his senses of sight and smell. The muscles of his back and neck began to throb from assuming the same hunched posture for the past hour. He paused to glance up at the doors beyond which the doctors had been operating on Daichi for more than a half hour. They loomed tall and gray, forming a barricade of steel and fiberglass between him and his friend. Tertiary blast injuries and a bullet wound. The nurses had informed them that his chances of survival were less than thirty percent. They were trying their best.
Hilary chewed her nails bloody, shook from the surreal events that had unfolded that night. It seemed as though death had swooped in and gone on a rampage in Tokyo city. The entire stadium had burned like a giant fiery star, a terrible vision of tragedy and horror searing into her memory against her will, digging its merciless claws in with a promise to make the rest of her life miserable. All those people. So many people, some of whom she knew and some she loved, gone. Just gone. Taken. The full impact of it all had yet to hit her, for now she was in some detached reality, removed from the pain. Hilary watched Rei, tried to understand how he must feel, and failed. Mariah had been closer to him than anybody else in this room. The lines of his back were too tense, he must have been suffering.
Daichi had been drenched in blood when they found him, lying on the pavement next to Bruce and Ryuu, who were in worse conditions, barely breathing, and then that bastard – that sick, sick bastard – had come out of the shadows and shot all three. He'd tried to get at Max as well, but Tyson had appeared at just the right moment and saved him. But he couldn't save his father or Ryuu, and Daichi was holding on by a very thin string. A shudder wracked through her slender frame covered in dirt and sweat. She raised her head to look at Max and Kenny, both of whom were collapsed on the metal chairs, the angles at which the light hit their faces casting shadows across their eyes and cheekbones. A square of white clung to a spot on Max's throat, where the knife had cut in when he'd been held hostage. He righted his neck and asked, "Where's Kai?" His voice was scratchy. "Did anybody see him?" Worry lanced through his expression and Hilary answered him with a shake of her head. "No, I haven't seen him all day."
Hiro, dirty and sporting a red gash on his lip, looked up at Tyson who was leaning nearby, pale as the paint on the wall behind him. His clothes were torn in places and there were darker patches on his jacket where the blood had soaked in. He stood with his arms folded over his chest, his mouth forming a tense line, a certain fragility marking his whole stance. He stood as though he was in great anguish, as though he would sink to his knees any moment. Tyson showed no signs of having heard Max and Hilary rose to her feet. She approached him carefully and put a gentle hand on his arm. "Ty?" she spoke in a low tone. "Are you okay?"
His eyes seemed far away, some place distant and unreachable, his unfocused gaze directed toward the floor. She thought back to earlier when the terrorist had pointed his gun at Tyson's dad, coughing and wheezing in agony, and the sound that had frozen her in terror. The bullet zipping through the air, striking him in the chest and the way Tyson had opened his mouth to scream but choked as the second shot was fired. Rei had snapped out of his stupor before the third and crashed into the murderer, throwing off his aim, and the bullet had penetrated Daichi's arm instead of where it was originally supposed to go: his head. The police had arrived soon after that, with the terrorist fleeing the scene, vanishing into the flames. Tyson had run to his family, collapsing to his fours and crying out their names. Bruce and Ryuu had died there on the asphalt, a hysterical Tyson by their side, begging and pleading them to hold on – a sight that had her heart shred into pieces. Somewhere in the middle of all that, Hiro had caught up to them, and pulled a crying Tyson away from the bodies, in quiet tears himself. The two brothers had knelt in the middle of the road next to their dead parents and sobbed, clutching each other as tightly as possible, the sirens and the red and blue lights of the police blaring and glaring around them.
Hilary reached up to brush aside the bangs that had fallen into his eyes and Tyson started, glancing up at her for the first time since their brief conversation in the ambulance. The look in his tormented brown eyes pushed Hilary to tears and she drew him to her. He was too stiff in her arms, unwilling to return the embrace and so she quickly stepped back. May be he needed space. May be he needed- she didn't know what he needed, but she wanted to help him. Somehow. He appeared too lonely, alone in the corner of the hospital, and then the thought struck her that he was an orphan now and she clapped a hand over her mouth, running to the washroom before they heard her bawl. She shut the stall behind her and slid down to the floor. Tyson's heartbreaking words to Hiro as he wept into his shoulder resurfaced and Hilary cried harder. "Why, Hiro?" His voice had splintered and trembled as he wailed in pain. "Why?"
"Tyson, sit down," said Hiro. "You look like you're going to faint." It'd just been over an hour since the operation began and Tyson appeared to be something held together by will alone. Despite how exhausted he was, he still refused to take a seat. He hadn't spoken a word since they started waiting and his brittle composure was beginning to freak everyone else out a little.
"Has anybody tried calling him?" Max was asking about Kai, head propped up on his fingers. A tired Kenny pulled out his cell and punched numbers into it, wearing a resigned expression as though he was doing it just to appease Max. Rei paused his manic pacing to say, "I don't think he was there. I didn't see him anywhere." His gaze drifted to rest on Tyson and this time he met his friend's guarded one. It held.
"I don't know."
His voice had a cold, hollow quality to it that sent shivers up Max's spine. Hiro sat up alarmed. "Tyson, sit down, you're exerting yourself too much."
Tyson's gaze reverted to the tile as he cleared his throat, which did little to improve the gravelly note in his tone when he spoke. "I don't want to."
"His phone's switched off," Kenny announced, stuffing his mobile back into his trouser pocket. "He might not have been at the stadium at all." Hilary walked into the scene and cast a look at Tyson, then to each of the rest of the company in turn. Kenny unscrewed the top of his bottle and drank some water, then offered it to Hilary once he saw her puffy face. Hiro tracked his eyes up and down Tyson's profile, frowning in confusion. Rei finally gave up his ceaseless traversing and plopped down in a chair.
"How much longer?" He rubbed his palms up and down his thighs, exhaustion and concern marring his features. Tyson began chewing on his lip, the colour draining further from his countenance. Hiro stood up and strode over. "Tyson?"
Tyson lifted his eyes to stare like a zombie at Hiro, tension spiked in the air. "Please go sit down before you pass out standing. This is going to take a while."
"I'm okay" Tyson's shoulders strained in response. He chewed more viciously on his lip.
Hiro sighed. "You're not okay." Tyson squeezed his eyes shut. "Everybody can see that." He wouldn't reply, trying to disappear into thin air. The events of the night slowly began to chip away at his resoluteness, his defenses and the aches and pains all over his body began making themselves known in bright, blinding, nauseating flashes. His body swayed and Hiro caught his elbow. "That's it. Go fucking sit down."
He began leading Tyson toward the seats and Tyson tore his arm out of Hiro's grip. "What is wrong with you?" asked Hiro. "Why don't you-"
Tyson exploded in annoyance and rage. "I don't want to sit down, Hiro!" he shouted, veins bulging in his neck. "I don't want to fucking sit down! Stop telling me to sit down! I don't wanna sit DOWN!" He flailed his arms and screamed, "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
His scream trailed, ringing shrill and loud in the hospital, bouncing off the walls and echoing through the quiet corridors. They gaped at him stunned, eyes wide and lungs still. Hiro backed off his brother who was heaving, breathing loudly through flared nostrils, eyes bloodshot and teary. The silence was interrupted only by Tyson's pants and they saw a glimpse of what the future held in store for them. Hiro opened his mouth to say something when there came a sound of a door sliding and the head surgeon stepped out. He was a man in his forties with kind eyes and a warm smile which was currently not present. His light blue gaze looked tight, though still kind, as he walked forward. Rei was the first to reach him and they listened in devastation as the words hit them like a punch to the gut in slow motion. "I'm sorry. We tried everything we could, but... "
They buried Ryuu Granger and his son Bruce at the same place where all the other deceased members of the Granger family rested. So many people attended the ceremony the green of the cemetery was replaced by black. All those who lost their friends and family members and couldn't find a body to bid farewell to came to see off the much respected and well-loved Grangers on their final journeys.
Tyson sobbed throughout the service, face half-hidden behind a white handkerchief, during the cremation, the burial of the ashes, the obligatory speeches, and Kenny's mother never once left his side, gathering him into her bosom when he cried too hard. Hilary stood by a Rei who seemed to be on the verge of shattering into pieces, his face a glassy mask. Max and Kenny barely kept themselves from breaking down, a haunted Hiro towering like a miserable statue beside them.
A day later, they said their goodbyes to Daichi, someone in their gang who could never be replaced. They laughed and cried through the speeches, reminded of his stubbornness, his antics. Nobody wanted to say goodbye to him, but they forced themselves to do it because Daichi deserved a worthy funeral. They lingered at his coffin, before the cremation, reluctant to let him go. Around the end of the service it all became just too much for them to handle, after all, he'd only been a kid. Life was cruel.
Tyson and Hiro crashed at Max's house for a few nights, wounds still too fresh for them to sleep at home. Although there were many people in the house, the atmosphere was thick with grief. Sometimes it got so bad, Tyson contemplated seeking other means to escape from the sadness that clung to every nook and cranny he turned to. The city mourned the loss of lives young and old, day and night, not a single happy face on the street. The news channels droned on and on about the attack now known as the "Spectacle Arena Tragedy". The correct number of casualties was yet to be discovered, the stadium had charred into bones, ashes and gritty remains – the world was unsure whether to be comforted or distressed by the fact.
Rei worked on the garden in Max's backyard relentlessly, without eating or taking breaks, a look of deranged determination on his face. He didn't cry or mope around, he just threw himself into plucking the weeds out and planting as many flowers as possible. Max and Hilary bonded over tears, eyes never drying. Hiro shut himself up in the guest room, Brooklyn's delicate sapphire earring – which none had ever seen except him– in hand. Kenny retreated into the cyber world, reading dreadful news from all over the globe while simultaneously endeavoring to contact his friends and find out if anybody else they knew had escaped the fire. There was no news of Kai, nobody had seen him when the chaos broke out or at the match, they simply hoped he was okay and that he'd eventually show up at their doorstep, grouchy and unharmed. And Tyson, he was rarely home.
He spent his time up on the hill where he and Kai used to battle, unable to wrap his head around all the death and Kai's disappearance, his uncertain future – the one he now had very little desire for, the seemingly unstable world. How everything could change in the matter of a few minutes – seconds – was terrifying. Tyson rolled on to his back and stared up at the night sky – vast and quiet, speckled with thousands and thousands of tiny, sparkling lights, like somebody had taken a black canvas and hurled silver glitter across it. Flatteningly beautiful. He felt overwhelmed and helpless, alone under the heavenly awning where scorching hot stars blazed, their presence a promise of security against the evil that lurked in the dark – but really, could you touch them and not expect to be burned alive?
On the night after Stanley Dickenson's funeral, Tyson – exhausted from endless crying and screaming in vain – trudged home to find a shattered Rei, silently hiccuping on the couch. He looked up from his hands to Tyson, who felt himself buckling under the sight, tears spilling out of his eyes. He shook his head in disbelief. How much more of this could they take – could he take? He didn't think he could go through one more funeral without setting himself up for one of his own. He saw no way out of this except for one. Continuing to live where he lost so much, with the memories of his loved ones haunting every corner, started to seem impossible. Tyson made up his mind and went upstairs to see Hiro.
When he pushed the door open he found Hiro on the bed, writing in a book, frowning down at the pages in concentration. Tyson sucked in a lungful of air and said, "Hiro". At the sound of his name, he glanced up, eyes red but dry, he put the pen and the book aside. "What is it, Tyson?" He sounded like he hadn't used his voice in days – which was true.
Tyson met his brother's gaze, face a stoic mask. "I don't think I can stay here anymore. I want to get out of here and go somewhere. Anywhere. It doesn't matter, I just can't stay here for another day longer, Hiro. I want to leave. Let's leave."
And for the first time since Tyson had known his brother, Hiro accepted his request without argument, nodding and saying one word. "Okay"
~END OF VOLUME ONE~
A/N: The story was so big I had to split it in two. This is the end of the first part, folks! Sorry for the delay. The second part will be coming soon, so keep an eye out for that one. Love you all. I hope you're all enjoying your holidays!
Volume two has been uploaded as a new fic! Link - s/12863923/1/WARRIOR-VOLUME-TWO
