A/n: So here's the second instalment. Thank you to those who left a review, it means so much!

This chapter is set a few months after the previous one, but in the beginning there is a part where Hilary is reminiscing about something that happened earlier in the year so I hope that isn't confusing.

I did a lot of research on kendo for this, one of the things that's important for this chapter is that points in kendo aren't just awarded because you landed a hit on your opponent, your spirit and form needs to match the strike too, so that involves a lot of shouting and sometimes people with faint hearts are not advised to watch the matches. That is the intensity of the sport I wanted to capture here, and how that would make Hilary who is watching a proper match for the first time feel, I hope I did that well.

I kept most of the terms in their translated counterparts, a shinai is a bamboo sword, just in case.

Hope you enjoy this one too, although it's very angsty.

2 – Somber Summer Rain

x

Before she knew it, a wall had come up between her and Tyson.

It could have been easily broken down too, had Hilary apologised for her behaviour on the first day of school, but instead, the two of them had moved on from what happened that day without bringing it up again. They still saw each other every day, on every school day at least. Hilary would head to Tyson's classroom during lunch, and they'd either eat together in the cafeteria or on the roof depending on the weather, and they still took the bus together every morning, but the invisible wall kept them from being honest with each other like they once used to. The conversations between them would often run dry, and the silence that followed was as heavy as lead, pushing the two apart with an intensity Hilary couldn't find the strength to fight against.

With Hilary joining the Student Council which kept her busy as soon as classes ended and Tyson having to rush back to the Dojo for his kendo practice, eventually, the two even stopped trying to match their schedules so they could head home together. For this, however, Hilary felt that it would be unfair for her to hold only herself responsible.

The change in Tyson's outlook on life that happened overnight when he decided to take kendo seriously was something she still couldn't wrap her head around.

It happened around the time of their New Year break, seven months ago. She remembered meeting him at the shrine early in the morning for the first visit of the year, talking and laughing about all the usual things, not a word from him about any life-changing decisions he might have made for the coming year. And then two days later when school started again, it was like he was a different person altogether when he stood at the bus stop and looked at her with those fiercely determined eyes before announcing his aim to go professional in kendo.

Not that Hilary wasn't happy for him, or proud of him for finally creating a path for himself after the buzz around Beyblading had died out and the sport had pretty much fizzled out of existence. But she had felt excluded in the process, it had taken her days to come to terms with the fact that maybe her opinion had never mattered to Tyson in the first place which is why he'd never asked for it. It's not like she would have asked him to not pursue this goal, but maybe, just maybe she would have tried to explain to him that this felt more like Grandpa's dream than his own and that he was allowed to take his time to find something he was as passionate about as Beyblading, whatever and whenever it may be.

Instead, she just had to smile and act like a bystander as he began to immerse himself into training for this new sport. Hilary did try to support him to the best of her capabilities, but her knowledge about this traditional sport stemmed only from books and sports magazines, and it could never compare to the guidance and teachings of Grandpa Kinomiya, a renowned, veteran kendoka and an even amazing instructor. When she saw his coaching in action for the first time she felt that Hiro could've used a few tips from the man back when he was coaching the BBA Team. This isn't to say that Grandpa didn't possess the Kinomiya family gene of taking everything to the extremity, as the youngest age at which a kendoka had won the world's most prestigious kendo tournament was just 21 and the way Grandpa took Tyson under his wing, it seemed that he was determined to get his grandson to break the record at 18 or maybe even 17.

That was the part that Hilary couldn't come to terms with, that the sport was not something meant for Tyson to enjoy but rather build his whole life around. It made her constantly question where she stood in the grand scheme of Tyson's world when all she could do for him now was sit in one corner of the practice hall and watch, maybe occasionally call out a few words of encouragement. She didn't know if this minimal presence of hers even mattered to Tyson, he had never indicated to her that it did. The only time she had been directly involved was when they needed to check if their school would allow him to pursue the sport even if there was no official club or team dedicated to it at school and once that permission was granted, it was back to square one for her. Hilary, however, had never been the type of person who just sat on the sidelines and cheered mindlessly, no she needed to be involved, and dive deep into what she was supporting or she would lose interest, and with kendo, she eventually did.

"There's a local tournament next week."

Tyson's timid tone made her look up from the book she was glued to, the cafeteria around them was beginning to empty as lunchtime drew closer to its end. Hilary too had already finished her lunch but thought it would be rude to leave while Tyson was still eating, turning instead to her novel, which she carried everywhere with her these days as things between them were always wavering between uncertain terms. She didn't know when there would be long drawn-out silences, or when casual small talk would erupt into an argument, so having a book in her hand as back up always made her feel confident.

"Oh."

She faced him after shutting her book, glad that he had started the conversation, unlike most days when his disinterested responses to her statement would drive her up the wall. He was looking at her expectantly as if waiting for her to say something more, but Hilary just sent a quizzical look his way.

"I'm participating in it," Tyson clarified, frowning at her lack of enthusiasm and then speaking in a tone one would use with little children added, "It's my first official match."

"That sounds...exciting." Hilary settled for that word after a moment of consideration. She couldn't understand where this conversation was heading since Tyson rarely ever talked to her about kendo unless prompted, so she had no way to know how he was expecting her to react. It was obvious, however, that he was expecting a reaction from her from the way he refused to take his eyes off of her. She hadn't realised how much time had passed since the last time she had been under his scrutinising gaze until she felt her heart pick up pace and had to take a deep breath to keep her face from turning red.

Finally, after a few minutes, Tyson averted his eyes and picked up the pair of chopsticks lying in his lunch box and spun them around, a nervous tick she often reprimanded him for. When he spoke next, his voice was a low incoherent mumble which wouldn't have reached her ears had it not been for the silence that surrounded the now empty cafeteria.

"You can come watch, if you want to."

"Is that allowed?" Not the first question that popped into her head, but the one she settled with. No, the first question was 'do you want me to', but Hilary decided that that was one question she did not need answering right now for the sake of her own sanity.

"Of course! They encourage an audience, they have to promote the sport after all," he said, letting go of the chopsticks as his ears perked up at her showing the kind of interest he wanted her to.

"I see."

There were a lot of things to consider here and her gut told her that agreeing to do this would somehow lead to something worse, but what mattered to Hilary then was the fact that Tyson had taken the first step here. He had finally extended the olive branch that could be the bridge needed to mend all ties between them, it would be a waste for her to not grasp onto it. Maybe it might even give her a chance to understand his dedication towards kendo and learn to appreciate it.

"I'll be there," she said and watched Tyson's whole face light up at her words.

"Awesome!" He jumped up from his seat, which took her by surprise. Realising that he had shown more excitement than was needed, he ran a hand through his hair sheepishly and cleared his throat loudly, "I mean, thanks, I'd appreciate that."

x

The tournament was going to be held on a Saturday about a week later, which of course made it easier for Hilary to attend as she didn't need to worry about missing school. The venue was a local gymnasium, usually used by basketball clubs around their city, she had passed by it several times before but had no idea that it was used for kendo as well. When she arrived, she almost had to do a double take as she recognised Grandpa talking to other men his age from not too far away. Unlike the hakama he usually wore at home or the flashy clothes he donned outside, today he was dressed in an exquisitely deep green yukata, which made him feel like a completely different person to Hilary.

Luckily he spotted her at the same time and helped guide her inside. The excitement he felt was visible in his voice and the way he carried himself, and that's when she realised that today was a big day not just for Tyson, but his instructor as well. Grandpa could not sit with her in the audience as the participating dojos had a separate area closer to the centre of the gym reserved for them, while white tape marked the square-shaped area within which the match would take place. Hilary was conflicted about this because although she would have liked to have Grandpa by her side to answer any doubts she may have about the matches, they would've made for an odd sight sitting together with her having casually thrown on a white tee and denim skirt. The only other people dressed traditionally like Grandpa Kinomiya were the rest of the dojo instructors, most of the audience seemed to be dressed formally, so she made a note to ensure that she'd tidy herself up better for the next tournament.

Before leaving to take his designated place, Grandpa had explained to her that the rules for today were quite simple, each participant would play a total of 5 matches against every other participant, and the one who accumulates the most wins would be the overall winner. She had enough knowledge about the sport to know how points were counted, so when she picked a plastic chair not too far away from the centre, Hilary was confident that she would be able to keep up today. Her positive outlook only lasted for so long, however, as when the gymnasium doors closed and every occupant settled down quickly, she felt as if she had been transported into a vacuum.

Hilary's clutch on the hem of her skirt tightened as the absolute silence in the gymnasium added to the tension that was now floating in the air. She was afraid to even gulp, in case it echoed all around the gym and disturbed the disciplined atmosphere currently overtaking the venue.

The scene in front of her was very different from what she had witnessed at the Dojo, and she wondered whether the exchanges between Tyson and Grandpa that she saw were just a way to warm up for the actual practice that they probably started when the Dojo was free of all it's visitors and disturbances. She had always known that kendo as a sport required a lot of discipline, but sitting in the audience for an actual match filled her with a sense of uneasiness that she hadn't experienced while watching beybattles.

Unsure about what to attribute this anxious feeling to, Hilary focused on keeping her breathing stable and her eyes fixed on the centre of the arena, on either side of which the players of all participating dojos were now seated. Grandpa had told her that Tyson's turn would be first and sure enough, she saw him at the front of the seated line, making final adjustments to his gear as the referee and announcer started to explain the schedule for the day, the names of the players participating and some other stuff that Hilary should have paid attention to, but somehow her mind decided to tune out everything as her eyes followed Tyson's every movement closely.

There was something different about the way he carried himself in the kendo gear, a sense of unfamiliarity surrounded him when he moved, and Hilary felt reluctant to admit it, but when he finally walked to the centre of the make-shift arena to take his place, he looked nervous. But that was the thing about Tyson, he was never nervous, even when he was backed up against the wall with nowhere to run, even when he knew he was fighting a losing battle, he faced it all head-on without once worrying about what the outcome might be and that's what had made him such a fierce champion, the ability to believe in himself when no one else would.

So if that Tyson was feeling nervous today, it only made sense for her to worry more.

The referees took their places on the edge of the stage area, signalling for the match to start with a respectful bow from the players towards each other. It was hard to tell what Tyson's opponent looked like from where Hilary was seated, all she could see of him was that he was taller and that Tyson had to raise his head to meet his eye. At least the opponent didn't seem bulkier, or maybe it was because the shape of the kendo gear made the two seem like they were mostly similar in stature to her. She knew that to score a point a player needed more than just brute force, but she still thought that she would've felt less nervous had the other guy been shorter or scrawnier than Tyson.

Once the match started, however, Hilary did not have the time to collect her feelings, everything moved so fast and the shouts were so loud, ringing throughout the gymnasium and making the hair on her hand stand up, that her fear only mounted with each match that Tyson played. If it wasn't for the referee raising the red flag that indicated Tyson had scored a point, Hilary wouldn't have known what was happening at all. With his first opponent, the match didn't last long at all, minutes after it started Tyson managed to score three consecutive points, making the audience break out into calm applause that she joined in on despite of her mind being dazed.

When the next two players came forward, Hilary attempted to peel her eyes at them in an attempt to actually follow through what was happening this time, but it was futile because they drifted towards Tyson without fail at every opportunity. Unlike his opponent, he hadn't taken his helmet off while he rested so she had no idea how he felt after taking the first win. This was very new for Hilary because the Tyson she was used to would be grinning cheekily at everyone around him, boasting to anyone who would lend an ear about how he outwitted his opponent, or just simply be in a happy mood, celebrating his accomplishment. But the Tyson in front of her today, sat stiffly in the kneeled position, watching the other players keenly as he awaited his turn next.

Maybe if she would have been able to look at his face just once, to see that he was still the same Tyson she knew under that helmet, that he wasn't feeling pressured, that he wasn't too nervous about facing his next opponent, that despite the tense environment and strict rules of the game he was still enjoying himself the way he used to when he stepped up for a beybattle. Or maybe she could have helped him feel better, more confident, if just once he had looked in her direction, she would have conveyed to him that he didn't need to worry and just put his best foot forward and no matter the outcome, she would still be there for him.

Instead, Tyson moved like a robot, coming up to the front when his name was called and taking his seat at the sides as soon as the match was over. The only time she was able to gauge some emotion from him was when the match started and he struck at his opponents with all his strength, his voice that echoed all around her filled with aggression and ferocity that she had never heard in it before, and while this was better than watching him sit like a statue, it was still not the Tyson she knew, which scared her. But this fear was different, it was not like the sudden rush and tightening of her chest she felt as she watched the occasional opponent landing a strike on Tyson, their shinai clattering against his protective armour with a loud bang that made her eyes squeeze shut as her heart almost leapt out of her chest. No the fear of not being able to recognise Tyson ran deeper, it seeped into her bones and made her question everything she had ever known about him.

It made her realise that he was running ahead towards a goal she couldn't see because she was still stuck sitting on the bench in an empty stadium where cobwebs spun out of her doubt and uncertainty over who she was supposed to be settled all around her.

x

Although the sky had been clear when she had left home in the morning, by the time the tournament got over, grey clouds had taken over, which mirrored Hilary's mood as she waited outside the gymnasium for Tyson to change and come out. She was surprised with herself, considering that Tyson had managed to win the tournament with 4 wins and 1 loss, and thought that she should be feeling happier or at least less conflicted, but somehow there was a strange ball of undefined emotions growing in the pit of her stomach, making her feel weary of everyone and everything around her.

Just when Hilary was about to give up waiting for Tyson, he appeared from inside the gymnasium, now wearing their school uniform, a large sports bag was slung across his shoulder, while his covered shinai was strapped to his back. He spotted her and almost ran towards her, his footsteps completely in sync with the thunder that suddenly raged above in the grey skies, surprising both of them. When he reached her, he let out a low whistle as he observed the weather himself, before turning to face her with his trademark wide grin.

Finally being able to see his face should've calmed her, it should've made her break into a smile naturally like it always did, but instead, she felt the ball of emotions inside her rumble much like the sky had done a minute ago.

"Ah, what a day! I can't tell you how relieved I feel right now," Tyson said, sighing a happy content sigh as he relaxed his shoulders, his grin faltering only slightly at the lack of reaction from her.

"I'm glad." She nodded in response, managing to force a small smile on her face.

"The feeling is completely different, you know?" Tyson went on, shaking his head, "From practising in the dojo to actually being there, facing down people who aren't Grandpa." He let out a little laugh, but when she didn't join in, signs of a frown started to show on his forehead.

"I suppose it must be." How would she know, he'd never actually talked to her about how he felt while practising the sport, or how serious this whole thing was to him. Maybe if he had mentioned any of this to her earlier, Hilary might have been able to prepare the reaction he needed from her right now, in advance.

"Still, I like how I played today," he said, "There are certain points I can improve upon, but given that it was my first time and how nervous I was, I think I did well."

That's great, is what she wanted to say but Hilary was unsure whether she'd be able to mind her tone, so she just looked up at the sky instead. It seemed much darker than before, and she tried to remember if the morning forecast had mentioned a chance of rain. She hated summer rains so much, it made her hair go frizzy and everything felt sticky, even her record of falling sick after being caught in the rain during the summer season wasn't something to be proud of. She wished she was at home right now, curled up in her bed with a good book instead of standing here and pretending to prove to Tyson that she was completely okay with him including and then excluding her from parts of his life whenever he felt like it.

"Look Hils, if you're just going to be like that-"

"Like what?" She snapped back at him before he could lash out a silly accusation at her, taken aback by how her voice sounded so loud since it finally held some emotion that she had been trying to keep at bay.

The grin had disappeared from Tyson's face and he was glaring at her now, but the glare wasn't intense or filled with rage, it was mellow and his eyes held a look of disappointment, the same from back when he had seen her in the changed uniform a few months ago. But this time it didn't make her feel bad about herself, instead, it made her want to question why Tyson thought he was allowed to hold her to certain expectations when he had never bothered to meet any of hers.

"Like you have something to say but you're holding back for my sake or whatever stupid reason you've cooked up in your head. Just come right out with it, be honest with me." His tone was determined as he curled his fists at his side, brown eyes fixed intently on her.

"You want me to be honest? To tell you what I really think?" Hilary scoffed at him, he sure was brave enough to suggest that, or dumb enough to not know just how much she had been holding herself back.

"Yeah…" He hesitated in his response, confidence wavering at the sight of her looking ready to open the pandora's box of her true feelings.

"Okay, let's do this then." Hilary folded her arms across her chest defensively. She felt a drop of water land on her arm, but that did not distract her from the task ahead of her, making Tyson understand that if he wanted her to be on his side through this kendo journey, he would have to do a better job at trying to make her feel included.

"I did not enjoy watching your match, the whole environment in there," she paused to gesture towards the gymnasium behind him, "was new for me and I didn't know how to keep up with everything. Watching you play actually made me feel tense and anxious, and worry about the fact that any minute the other guy's shinai could just crack open your helmet and get to your skull."

"That's ridiculous!" He let out a small, furious laugh. "You think I'm the first person to ever play this game? This shit's sturdier than-" He slapped the bag on his shoulder, probably trying to point to the protective gear and helmet that was packed inside it.

"I don't care, Tyson!" Hilary interrupted him. The rain had started to fall lightly now but her earlier concerns about her hair no longer mattered to her, "You asked me to tell you how I felt, so that's what I'm doing."

"Yeah, I asked for honesty, not a two year old's understanding of how this sport works."

"If you think my feelings are childish, that is not on me." She gritted her teeth furiously, maybe the rain wasn't so bad after all because if she started crying now, at least she would have a way to hide it, "Watching you look nervous as you went up against every opponent made me feel scared for you because I care about you. More than you'd ever understand."

"Oh, you care about me? Is that what this is, you caring about me?" He moved his hand back and forth gesturing to her and then himself as he spoke. A very dangerously hateful smirk had appeared on his face, and as the rain picked up speed, making her vision blur slightly, it ignited a small hope that Tyson wasn't actually looking at her with so much disdain.

"Tyson, do not test my-"

"No, Hilary tell me this." It was hard to compete with his loud voice, so she quieted down the minute he spoke, "Just clear this one thing up for me. If you care about me so much, then why is it that we're standing out here in the rain after I just won my first official match that I worked my ass off for this entire year, and you haven't even bothered to say fucking congratulations."

It wasn't just the raindrops that pierced her skin now, his words did too and that made her realise just how selfish she had acted today.

But the realisation came a minute too late, because Tyson pushed past her, knocking her shoulder with his own as he walked away from her. She couldn't bring herself to turn around and look at him, how could she ever face him again after how she had behaved? He had accomplished something big today, something that made him happy and even if she didn't understand it or even if she hadn't played a part in making that happen, the least she could've done for him was smile and appreciate his efforts.

Isn't that exactly what she wanted from all the girls at school? To just look at her and have the basic courtesy to acknowledge her existence, that even if they did not like her enough to be friends with her, they could at least tolerate her enough to smile at her in the corridors. How could she beat herself up over not getting the attention she deserved for months just to go ahead and do that to someone else?

Not just someone else, to Tyson, of all people. The only person who didn't seem to care how she talked or what she wore, as long as she stayed by his side. That was all he needed from her and Hilary couldn't even pull that off.

When Tyson had asked her to be honest, she'd assumed that she could get him to own up about how he was at fault for expecting her to be as excited about his kendo endeavour as she had been for beyblading, and in turn he had shown her who she really was, an empty shell of a person who only seemed to care about herself.

She had only tipped the candle to protect herself from getting burnt, but now, the whole forest was on fire.

X

A/n: I can't really say that don't worry, things will be okay in the next chapter, because the truth is things will probably get much worse in the next chapter. But! Max will be there, to add a little bit of sunshine in his own Max-ish ways.

Thank you to everyone for reading this 'Beyblade but make it shoujo manga' attempt of mine, would love to know what you thought of it. Leave a review if you can!