I went looking for Tyson first, for he is definitely the easiest to locate anytime and place. He can't live without beyblade, quite literally. So I looked through the directories of all beyblade centres and companies. Indeed, I found him as the chief designer and engineer of a beyblade manufacturer in a little town just outside Tokyo. I was mildly surprised, and amused. Of course, I expected him to be part of the beyblade business somewhere, but maybe not so much as doing what I used to do.

I took a train and arrived in the small town. It was early morning, and the sky was blue with thin wisps of white clouds, and the sunshine was gold. I found the beyblade manufacturer on the border of the town. It was very large, with angular and stern looking buildings of grey cement. Slowly I walked into the building and found the reception area. A young man was at the reception desk. He was so very young, no more than a boy just out of school. He flashed me a smile and asked in a voice that hinted an attempt at brisk, business like manner and also the utter failure, "What would you like, sir?"

I said casually, "I was wondering if Engineer Kinomiya worked here."

He didn't need to check an account or anything, instead he just blurted out, "You mean Tyson Kinomiya, the three time beyblading champion as a member of the Blade Breakers?"

He flushed at his own eager outburst, but he quickly said, "Yes, he works here, as our chief designer and engineer. He is in his office right now, I believe. Would you like to see him?"

I thought it for a second, and decided Tyson's workplace really isn't the best place for a reunion. So instead I said politely, "I shouldn't disturb his work now. Can you please give me his address?" Seeing his hesitant look I quickly added, "I am an old friend of his. My name is Kenneth Taylor."

A look of recognition and amazement flashed in his eyes, and happily he provided the information on a small card, "Here is his address, 370 Oakwood Avenue. I am sure Kinomiya will be very happy to see you, Mr. Taylor." Another brilliant smile from here, "And it's such a honour for me to meet you, too."

With a small smile I shook the boy's hand gently, and left the building. The entire day I spent wandering in the small town for a while, taking in the scenery. It was a nice place, small, clean, neat, and very typically Japanese. At last, when I judged it's time that Tyson should be home from his work, I went searching. Oakwood Avenue is a little road flanked with blooming cherry trees and whitewashed small houses. Tyson's home turned out to be a house larger than most, smartly manicured with shrubberies and flowers. For a moment I wondered and doubted. Surely a hothead like Tyson wouldn't bother with gardening? But I went up to the door anyway, and pressed the doorbell.

It opened after only a moment, and revealed a young woman maybe 20 years old. She was medium height, and shapely, with long black hair that seems to have a sheen of its own. For a moment she looked at me with questioning eyes, before saying, "May I help you?'

"Erm," I answered with slight discomfort, "I was under the impression that this is Kinomiya residence."

"You are looking for Tyson Kinomiya?" She asked, now with a surer voice, "Please come in."

I followed her inside. The interior revealed a rather western style of design, with high vaulted ceiling and spacious rooms. But the furniture is still faithfully Japanese styled. There were small wooden tea tables, cushioned low seats and clean, polished wooden floor. I liked the little haven the instant I set my feet in there. It is most pretty and nice. I know, rather a lame way to describe it, but you must realize sometimes the simplest words fit best. I was pleasantly surprised, for I certainly expected Tyson's home to be a giant mess rather than this neat little nest.

The woman invited me to sit down, and prepared some quick tea. Just then Tyson came barging downstairs, crying loudly, "Yakima, was there someone at the door?"

I saw him fully only a second later. He was so much taller and wider than I remembered or ever thought possible. His dark hair was still long and unruly, and there was no more baseball cap to keep them at least in check. He was wearing a T-shirt that looked suspiciously clean, a pair of jeans slightly ragged, and a red jacket, much like the one he always wears in our childhood days, except much bigger.

Just then he saw me too. There was a shocked, disbelieving expression on his face, his eyes were large like saucers. Quickly that expression melted into a giant grin. He rushed towards me, gave me a bear hug, and clapped me on the back vigorously.

"Kenny, Chief! I can't believe you are actually here!" He said in a booming voice that's louder than I remembered, even thought that would seem scarcely possible, "What a surprise, Chief! Can't believe you pulled this on me. Surprise visit!"

Yep, definitely the same Tyson I remembered, except on a bigger scale. I couldn't help but smile myself. All this suddenly makes me feel as if being back in the old days. "It is good to see you too, Tyson." I said, "We have lost contact for way too long."

The woman that showed me in had watched all these with a humouring smile on her face until now, finally she said, "Tyson, aren't you going to introduce your friend?"

"Oh yeah, sorry." Tyson said with one of his goofy grin, "Yakima, this is my old friend Kenny, but we all call him Chief. He was part of the Blade Breakers, and back in those days, he used to do my job. You know, beyblade designing and engineering and such. And Chief, this is my girl friend Yakima. She is an aviation engineer."

"Nice to meet you, Kenny." She said, shaking my hand with a charming smile, yet still there was a nonchalant look about her that is almost like Ray.

"Nice to meet you too." I said in reply respectfully.

After some moment we were all seated again, with cups of tea, talking over little trivial things. Tyson was still loud, and he went on forever and ever. I talked too, not so loud maybe, but definitely not less. There was so much to speak off. And Yakima listened to us silently.

"The company I am working for doesn't look like much, but it is really the largest beyblade manufacturer in Japan." Tyson said to me with a grin, "I was rather lucky to locate this job so quickly. I was looking around at a convention, and saw their employment advertisement. I sent them a resume, and they decided to hire me without even an interview."

"Wow!" I said, impressed, "Good job, Tyson!"

Tyson stared at me for a moment, then scratched his head and said, "That's it? No insults in acidic female voice?...Wait. What am I talking about?" He paused and looked around a little dumbly, before continuing with a laugh, "Oh yeah, just where is Dizzi? I am not used to her absence."

I chuckled too, "I didn't bring her. She didn't feel like leaving her little kingdom. I managed to find a way to move her between computers. So I set her in a new grand computer, in charge of all the data and resources. She enjoys her new job."

"Really?" Tyson put on a mock surprised face, "Dizzi? Satisfied? Enjoying her job? Oh woe, the world has come to an end!"

We both burst out laughing at that. I felt the joy inside me like bubbling spring water. It has been long since I felt like that. It was a very good feeling. Really, it has been too long. I didn't realize how much I miss my friends until now.

"So how is everything going with you?" Tyson asked me.

"Oh I am very good." I answered with a smile, "I work in a research centre in Tokyo, mainly on AI programming. It's a wonderful job, and I enjoy it immensely."

"So you are no longer working with beyblades anymore?" Tyson asked me.

"No." I shook my head, "It didn't seem to me that grand an option. I see you are still working with your old hobby, obviously."

"Yeah, of course." Tyson said, grinning again, "Can't live without beyblade. I am not just working as a designer and engineer, I work as a trainer too. This little town is full of potential world-class bladers. Which remind me, what time is it?"

Yakima, who hasn't said a single word all these time, answered, in the same nonchalant voice, "It's 15 minutes to 7. Do you have an appointment?"

"Yes!" Tyson cried, leaping up, "I have to be in the beystadium by 7. I must get going now. Yakima, treat Chief dinner, won't you?" With that he grabbed heavier coat against the chilly evening, and hurried away. A little too fast, if you ask me.

Yakima turned an apologetic look to me and said, "I am sorry about that, Kenny. But he is like that."

I smiled yet again and rolled my eyes, "I know. He hasn't changed a bit. You shouldn't have seen him back in those days when he was trying desperately to be on time for school."

Yakima laughed. It was a pleasant sound, like the crystal notes of a small stream. I was looking for excuses to leave when she beat me to it, almost as if she guessed my intentions. "You must have something to eat before you go, Kenny. It's rather late for wandering around searching for a restaurant."

I nodded my thanks for her. She stood up and left to the kitchen. A moment later she returned, a tray in hand carrying dishes of sushi and drinks. She cleared the cups and laid out the dishes neatly on the tea table. She passed me a pair of chopsticks, and took one pair for herself. "Enjoy, and please feel at home. This is all I can manage at the moment." She said, "I hope you don't mind."

"Oh no." I said, "I love sushi. Thank you very much."

I picked up a small roll with my chopsticks. It tasted rather good, especially fresh. Yakima was eating too, though very slowly. The first few minutes passed in silence. It was awkward, and uncomfortable, and I was vainly searching for something to say.

"So how did you two meet?" I asked, if lacking subtlety and tact somewhat.

"I met Tyson in a engineering convention." She said with a small smile, seemingly delighted in the memory, "We were at the same booth, studying the same company. We had a nice chat at the time. It was rather coincidental."

I nodded and said, "I heard you are an aviation engineer. Where do you work then?" That wasn't too brilliant either. I am simply horrid at making small talks.

"Oh, I don't work in any specific places yet, I work on commissions." She explained with a light smile, "It may sound strange for an engineer to work on commissions, but that's my lot at this moment. I am not too busy either. It's never more than two projects a month."

"Interesting." I said, "What kind of projects?"

She shrugged, "Mostly designs of small, commercial aircrafts produced by smaller companies. They pay most handsomely, and it gives me much more freedom."

I nodded again. It was, of course, very interesting, but I also realized I ran out of things to say again. There was another moment of silence. But this time Yakima broke the silence. "So how did you know Tyson." She asked me.

"We go back a long time, really." I said, smiling happily, "We were together on a beyblade team, the Blade Breakers. Didn't Tyson tell you about those?"

There was suddenly a strange, misty look in her eyes. She answered with a sigh, "He did try to tell me a few times, but I never paid attention."

I looked at her strangely, not knowing what to say. She suddenly shifted and said again, "Tell me about the team. Tell me about the Blade Breakers."

Again the feeling of strangeness and awkwardness took hold of me. But I did my best to explain all things to her. I was careful and deliberate. I kept all things at minimum level. I did not breath a word of Biovolt, and said as little as I can of the bit-beasts. I will not be tactless when it came to these matters. Many years of excruciating experiences taught me as much, even if it was Tyson's girlfriend sitting in front of me. But she didn't seem to be intrigued by the details. She was staring at the tea table with the same misty look. After I finished, she did not speak for a while.

Finally she asked in a soft and uncertain voice, "Was... no, rather, is beyblade very much fun?"

I think my glasses would have fallen off had I not so hurriedly pushed them back against my nose. What kind of question was that? Hesitantly I replied, "Of course, I would say it's one exhilarating sport, may even be dangerous. A lot people seem to find it an immense enjoyment. I don't really know personally. My attempts at actually blading can be labelled as 'utterly pathetic'. You should talk to Tyson of this. He would go on for hours telling you the great joy of beyblading." At the last words I couldn't smile but a little.

The expression on Yakima's face was a crossover between an attempt to roll her eyes and a look of irritation. "I thought better than trusting his words on it." There was almost venom in her voice.

I stared at her with shock, measuring the strange bitterness in her voice. At last I said tentatively, "You don't seem happy about the fact he is very into beyblading, no?"

She sighed, in a vain attempt to rid of her bitterness. She said softly, "He is engulfed by his passion for this sport, isn't he? He would work endlessly on his projects, spend countless hours teaching little children, and talk forever about it. What is it that attracts him to this sport? He is no longer a child anymore."

I held my breath. What was there for me to say? I am completely inapt in emotional counselling. Apparently Yakima was not waiting for me to speak. She brooded in silence, before continuing to herself with a distant look in her eyes, "He is a wonderful person, charming personality, great intellect. But he has this one childish hobby. No, not hobby. I would stand it if it were a mere hobby. But his love for this sport is like an obsession. I don't understand it. I don't understand at all." There was a pained expression on her face, and her voice is turning bitter.

She breathed again, and continued, a little quieter, yet just as miserable. "I tried to humour him, like if I was humouring a child with his toy car. But I am not his mother. How can I humour his obsession forever? One day this will break me, or sap me dry."

I think I had a lot trouble controlling my facial expression. I was shocked, to say at least. The distant look slowly faded in her eyes, and it seem she was shifting back to her normal mood. It seemed she suddenly realized she said something she shouldn't. Her cheeks flamed as she mumbled an apology, "I am so sorry. That is stupid of me, to rant on like that to you."

"No, it's okay." I said with the best of my consoling tone, "Your frustration is understandable."

She lowered her head, her cheeks still burning, and she looked embarrassed and distressed beyond words. Quickly I made an excuse, declaring I must depart now. And this time, she did not try to stay me. She walked me to the door, yet the awkward silence remained, hovering near. I walked out of the neat little house and felt the cool evening wind. When she closed the door and vanished from my sight I stopped again and stared at the beautiful house for a while.

That seemed almost like a dream. It's too beautiful, yet too sad at the same. Silently I wished Tyson good luck.