Title: Resurfacing
Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: R
Summary: see chapter one
Warnings: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of its characters. All unrecognizable characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intention to entertain.
*********************
"How is he doing?"
"Ian's recovering. Pissed because he can't leave the bed or sit up because of his head, but he will live."
"That's good to hear," he smiled, able to understand their small friend's predicament; his own bed feeling more like a prison than any cell he was ever in. His face sobered again, though, when he asked the next question.
"Tala's awake?"
"Not when I saw--," Spencer cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. "Not when I visited him."
Bryan studied his blond companion, not used to seeing the strong man of the team so helpless looking.
"He will recover; he's the strongest out of all of us." His confidence wavered, however, as he tried to reassure his friend on his own situation. "The doctors here will find a way to repair your sight."
"My eyes are too fucked up, even for them. Face it, Bryan; I'll never be able to blade again..."
Sighing, the Falborg blader laid back on the pillows beneath him, light eyes staring half-seeing up at the ceiling.
"Why is that such a bad thing?"
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Not that I don't want them to help you, of course. But I mean, do you still have the want to beyblade?"
"Of course!" Spencer snorted, "Don't you?"
His only answer was silence in the dark of his vision.
"...Bryan?"
"No."
He couldn't see the lilac-haired blader's face, but he could hear the saddened yet resoluted tone.
"But...why? That's what we've been raised for. All our lives--"
"You call what we had a life?"
He fell silent, unable to believe the defeated voice he had rarely heard coming from their most fierce some blader. Bryan wasn't a person who shared his feelings, not even with his friends. For him to be speaking about this now, in that tone of voice, proved how much pressure the past few weeks had had on the Falborg blader.
"We had no lives, Spencer. All we did was train and obey. Up until all of this I accepted it. But now... I want a change. I want something else. Falborg is a good friend and very powerful, and beyblading is one of the very few things I have ever loved, but...I just want to be ordinary. And the only way I can do that is by leaving all this behind me."
All his team members knew that he only said what he truly believed in and always stuck to it, so Spencer knew it was useless to try and talk his peer out of his decision.
"So what are you going to do, once they let you go?"
He picked up Falborg's blade from where it laid next to the bed and twirled it in his palm.
"Away. I don't know where, but as far away from here as possible. And I won't come back."
"What about the team?"
The same question he had asked himself ever since the thought came to mind. He had to get away from Moscow and his bad memories, but that would mean leaving the only people he had ever cared for as friends. Could he do that and live with it for the rest of his life? Leave behind people who he had shared and lost so much with?
"I won't leave until all of us are out of this place," he said, not answering the question.
He knew Bryan was deliberately not answering but let it drop. The present was hard enough without having to worry about the upcoming time. Nodding, he respected the other's decision. They sat in a few minutes of companionable silence. Sighing, Bryan sat up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Placing a hand on one of the blonde's broad shoulders, he stood up, wincing softly at the noticeable pain in his leg which was still far from being fully healed.
"If I spend one more second in this bed I'm going to scream. Ian's still up?"
"Yeah," Spencer confirmed, also standing.
"Which room is he in?"
"303."
Taking hold of the blonde's elbow to guide him, Bryan smirked.
"Well, now's the best time to bug him; he can't reach us."
The blond snorted but nodded, allowing his friend to lead him out the room.
***********************
"...and from what we have gathered we can hope to rightfully assume that Voltaire, and thus Kai too, has not left Russia. We were able to calculate possible area's that are within the 10 hour radius, by plane, of Moscow. That narrows the search to this area, the utmost eastern regions of Russia. Still, it remains a large search area..."
"And we aren't even sure if he was telling the truth, or even knew it himself," Bruce pointed out, leaning heavily on his elbows.
Judy nodded, folding the staff she was using to point out on the large map before them.
"Yeah, but it's better than nothing," Mr. Granger said, "Can't you use some satellite or something to pinpoint Voltaire?"
"We tried; it has been done in the past. But to gain access to the satellite you need to have certain information codes of the individual and we don't. Voltaire knows how to cover up his tracks too well. Still, we are organizing to fly our people there to the east to continue the search there. With your permission, Mr Dickenson."
Three pairs of eyes awaited his reply.
"Anything that needs to be done...Go ahead," he nodded to the blond who returned it before calling to give the order.
"I had promised him."
Even Judy, who was on the phone, regarded the old manager with sympathetic eyes.
"It isn't your fault, Stanley. You are doing your best."
"I promised him it would have all ended that night. I said that he would never be hurt again."
"We are making progress. We just have to keep this pace. And wait. And hope. It's all we can do."
"Maybe we can help then?"
The four adults looked up to see the remaining Bladebreakers walk into the room. Judging from the clothes beneath their jackets, Kenny still in his pyjamas, they looked to have run straight out of their hotel. It was Ray who had spoken, something shining in his clear eyes.
"Ah, yes Ray, what is it you have discovered that has caused such excitement?" Mr. Dickenson asked, having almost forgotten the neko-jin had called him not twenty minutes ago.
"This," he said, holding out a black object.
Giving the boy a bemused look, he took the offered object, turning it over as he studied it. The other adults gathered around but by the looks on their faces he could tell that they too could not find what Ray had.
"What is this?"
"It's Kai's face-paint case. He always kept it in his bag."
"I fear I do not understand, Ray."
"Me neither, at first. I've been playing with it since..." the light in his eyes dimmed slightly, "since Kai disappeared. However, he once told me that the reason he carried it was 'In case of an emergency'. I didn't understand what he meant at the time but I do now. Look at the tail feathers of the phoenix."
"Yes..." He did as he was told, eyes admiring the flowing curves of the golden feathers.
"It has three tails. Look at the middle one."
As he did so something started to become clear. Tracing the curves, which looped and twirled over the onyx, he started to see the hidden message.
"There are letters...and numbers!" He sat up straighter.
"I discovered them while watching Max write down the number you had given me," Ray said, "I was able to make out the letters A.M.H. and the numbers are a code or something."
"They look like they could be phone numbers," Judy observed, looking over Stanley's shoulder, "But they aren't from Russia."
"But who do they belong to?" Kenny asked.
"'In case of an emergency'..." Mr. Dickenson frowned softly.
Those letters...
A...M...H...
"Could it be…? No…impossible…"
"What? What's wrong, Mr D?" Max asked, practically stretching on the table to try and see what the manager did.
"They may be initials. Of someone's name. But…"
"But what?!" Tyson almost begged, as excited by the turn of events as the others.
His heart started to beat faster as he began to believe more and more that his mind was not mistaken.
'In case of an emergency…'
"Please God tell me this is true."
"What--"
Tyson didn't even get to finish off the sentence as the BBA chairman suddenly stood from his chair and hurried towards his office, leaving the others to follow.
"It cannot be…So many years had passed…Nothing has been heard at all…"
"Mr D, are you feeling okay?" Max asked, eyeing their adopted grandfather with some concern.
Not answering the blonds question, or the others' questioning eyes, he slammed the door to his office open in his haste and making his way to his desk, he grabbed the handle from the desk and pulled it open, quickly flipping through the files before pulling out a rather old looking one. Shifting while still mumbling to himself, he extracted a important looking paper and his smile grew even larger.
"The sun has finally broken through the clouds," he exhaled softly, afraid he would wake up from this dream if he was too loud.
They exchanged confused looks before Bruce spoke up.
"What is it, Mr Dickenson? I'm afraid we are still in the dark."
Handing the paper to the middle-age Granger, he took the precious casing and began to dial, following the flow of numbers that had been so cleverly hidden in the plumes of the shimmering tail feathers. Bruce scanned the document thoughtfully.
"It's a marriage certificate…"
"Whose?"
"June 19, 1951… 'To celebrate the union of V.M.S. Hiwatari and…A.M. Hiwatari…"
It took a while for this to sink in but when it did all eyes turned to Mr Dickenson but he held up his hand, still visibly shaken himself. Someone had answered the phone
"Hello? This is Stanley Dickenson, Chairman of the BBA. Am I speaking to Mrs. Anne-Marie Hiwatari? ...Yes? I fear I have some bad news regarding your ex-husband…..and your grandson..."
tbc......
************************
Read & Reviews, please.
Authoress: Ladya C. Maxine
Rating: R
Summary: see chapter one
Warnings: see chapter one
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or any of its characters. All unrecognizable characters belong solely to me and are not to be touched. I am not making any money off of this and I write with the sole intention to entertain.
*********************
"How is he doing?"
"Ian's recovering. Pissed because he can't leave the bed or sit up because of his head, but he will live."
"That's good to hear," he smiled, able to understand their small friend's predicament; his own bed feeling more like a prison than any cell he was ever in. His face sobered again, though, when he asked the next question.
"Tala's awake?"
"Not when I saw--," Spencer cut himself off with a frustrated sigh. "Not when I visited him."
Bryan studied his blond companion, not used to seeing the strong man of the team so helpless looking.
"He will recover; he's the strongest out of all of us." His confidence wavered, however, as he tried to reassure his friend on his own situation. "The doctors here will find a way to repair your sight."
"My eyes are too fucked up, even for them. Face it, Bryan; I'll never be able to blade again..."
Sighing, the Falborg blader laid back on the pillows beneath him, light eyes staring half-seeing up at the ceiling.
"Why is that such a bad thing?"
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"Not that I don't want them to help you, of course. But I mean, do you still have the want to beyblade?"
"Of course!" Spencer snorted, "Don't you?"
His only answer was silence in the dark of his vision.
"...Bryan?"
"No."
He couldn't see the lilac-haired blader's face, but he could hear the saddened yet resoluted tone.
"But...why? That's what we've been raised for. All our lives--"
"You call what we had a life?"
He fell silent, unable to believe the defeated voice he had rarely heard coming from their most fierce some blader. Bryan wasn't a person who shared his feelings, not even with his friends. For him to be speaking about this now, in that tone of voice, proved how much pressure the past few weeks had had on the Falborg blader.
"We had no lives, Spencer. All we did was train and obey. Up until all of this I accepted it. But now... I want a change. I want something else. Falborg is a good friend and very powerful, and beyblading is one of the very few things I have ever loved, but...I just want to be ordinary. And the only way I can do that is by leaving all this behind me."
All his team members knew that he only said what he truly believed in and always stuck to it, so Spencer knew it was useless to try and talk his peer out of his decision.
"So what are you going to do, once they let you go?"
He picked up Falborg's blade from where it laid next to the bed and twirled it in his palm.
"Away. I don't know where, but as far away from here as possible. And I won't come back."
"What about the team?"
The same question he had asked himself ever since the thought came to mind. He had to get away from Moscow and his bad memories, but that would mean leaving the only people he had ever cared for as friends. Could he do that and live with it for the rest of his life? Leave behind people who he had shared and lost so much with?
"I won't leave until all of us are out of this place," he said, not answering the question.
He knew Bryan was deliberately not answering but let it drop. The present was hard enough without having to worry about the upcoming time. Nodding, he respected the other's decision. They sat in a few minutes of companionable silence. Sighing, Bryan sat up and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Placing a hand on one of the blonde's broad shoulders, he stood up, wincing softly at the noticeable pain in his leg which was still far from being fully healed.
"If I spend one more second in this bed I'm going to scream. Ian's still up?"
"Yeah," Spencer confirmed, also standing.
"Which room is he in?"
"303."
Taking hold of the blonde's elbow to guide him, Bryan smirked.
"Well, now's the best time to bug him; he can't reach us."
The blond snorted but nodded, allowing his friend to lead him out the room.
***********************
"...and from what we have gathered we can hope to rightfully assume that Voltaire, and thus Kai too, has not left Russia. We were able to calculate possible area's that are within the 10 hour radius, by plane, of Moscow. That narrows the search to this area, the utmost eastern regions of Russia. Still, it remains a large search area..."
"And we aren't even sure if he was telling the truth, or even knew it himself," Bruce pointed out, leaning heavily on his elbows.
Judy nodded, folding the staff she was using to point out on the large map before them.
"Yeah, but it's better than nothing," Mr. Granger said, "Can't you use some satellite or something to pinpoint Voltaire?"
"We tried; it has been done in the past. But to gain access to the satellite you need to have certain information codes of the individual and we don't. Voltaire knows how to cover up his tracks too well. Still, we are organizing to fly our people there to the east to continue the search there. With your permission, Mr Dickenson."
Three pairs of eyes awaited his reply.
"Anything that needs to be done...Go ahead," he nodded to the blond who returned it before calling to give the order.
"I had promised him."
Even Judy, who was on the phone, regarded the old manager with sympathetic eyes.
"It isn't your fault, Stanley. You are doing your best."
"I promised him it would have all ended that night. I said that he would never be hurt again."
"We are making progress. We just have to keep this pace. And wait. And hope. It's all we can do."
"Maybe we can help then?"
The four adults looked up to see the remaining Bladebreakers walk into the room. Judging from the clothes beneath their jackets, Kenny still in his pyjamas, they looked to have run straight out of their hotel. It was Ray who had spoken, something shining in his clear eyes.
"Ah, yes Ray, what is it you have discovered that has caused such excitement?" Mr. Dickenson asked, having almost forgotten the neko-jin had called him not twenty minutes ago.
"This," he said, holding out a black object.
Giving the boy a bemused look, he took the offered object, turning it over as he studied it. The other adults gathered around but by the looks on their faces he could tell that they too could not find what Ray had.
"What is this?"
"It's Kai's face-paint case. He always kept it in his bag."
"I fear I do not understand, Ray."
"Me neither, at first. I've been playing with it since..." the light in his eyes dimmed slightly, "since Kai disappeared. However, he once told me that the reason he carried it was 'In case of an emergency'. I didn't understand what he meant at the time but I do now. Look at the tail feathers of the phoenix."
"Yes..." He did as he was told, eyes admiring the flowing curves of the golden feathers.
"It has three tails. Look at the middle one."
As he did so something started to become clear. Tracing the curves, which looped and twirled over the onyx, he started to see the hidden message.
"There are letters...and numbers!" He sat up straighter.
"I discovered them while watching Max write down the number you had given me," Ray said, "I was able to make out the letters A.M.H. and the numbers are a code or something."
"They look like they could be phone numbers," Judy observed, looking over Stanley's shoulder, "But they aren't from Russia."
"But who do they belong to?" Kenny asked.
"'In case of an emergency'..." Mr. Dickenson frowned softly.
Those letters...
A...M...H...
"Could it be…? No…impossible…"
"What? What's wrong, Mr D?" Max asked, practically stretching on the table to try and see what the manager did.
"They may be initials. Of someone's name. But…"
"But what?!" Tyson almost begged, as excited by the turn of events as the others.
His heart started to beat faster as he began to believe more and more that his mind was not mistaken.
'In case of an emergency…'
"Please God tell me this is true."
"What--"
Tyson didn't even get to finish off the sentence as the BBA chairman suddenly stood from his chair and hurried towards his office, leaving the others to follow.
"It cannot be…So many years had passed…Nothing has been heard at all…"
"Mr D, are you feeling okay?" Max asked, eyeing their adopted grandfather with some concern.
Not answering the blonds question, or the others' questioning eyes, he slammed the door to his office open in his haste and making his way to his desk, he grabbed the handle from the desk and pulled it open, quickly flipping through the files before pulling out a rather old looking one. Shifting while still mumbling to himself, he extracted a important looking paper and his smile grew even larger.
"The sun has finally broken through the clouds," he exhaled softly, afraid he would wake up from this dream if he was too loud.
They exchanged confused looks before Bruce spoke up.
"What is it, Mr Dickenson? I'm afraid we are still in the dark."
Handing the paper to the middle-age Granger, he took the precious casing and began to dial, following the flow of numbers that had been so cleverly hidden in the plumes of the shimmering tail feathers. Bruce scanned the document thoughtfully.
"It's a marriage certificate…"
"Whose?"
"June 19, 1951… 'To celebrate the union of V.M.S. Hiwatari and…A.M. Hiwatari…"
It took a while for this to sink in but when it did all eyes turned to Mr Dickenson but he held up his hand, still visibly shaken himself. Someone had answered the phone
"Hello? This is Stanley Dickenson, Chairman of the BBA. Am I speaking to Mrs. Anne-Marie Hiwatari? ...Yes? I fear I have some bad news regarding your ex-husband…..and your grandson..."
tbc......
************************
Read & Reviews, please.