Haru:
Fourth Moon
AUTHOR'S NOTES: It sucks big time when you don't have ANY frigging prepaid internet card credits. Oh WELL. Anyway, I have written what was supposed to be written and ye all be the judge of what has been written. It's Yuri's TURN~~~!!! WHEE~~~!!! ^o^ ^o^ ^o^ Go, YURI~~~!!!
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bey Blade, Sakura Taisen, and Asato Tsuzuki and his Shikigami. They are owned by their respective owners. But I DO own the OC's portrayed herein. So no SUING!
Yuri
Name: Ivanov, Yuri
Country of Origin: Russia
Nationality: Russian
Birthplace: Petrograd
Age: 15
Height: 175 cm
Weight: 50 kg
Blood Type: AB
Birthday: October 18
Skills: Sniping
PRN: 0020 - 006 - 000
EP: 112
APR: 98%
Test Results: 100%
COMMENTS:
Recommended for transfer to 35th Imperial Capital Defense Headquarters. Training for Elite Kagekidan Branch approved. For immediate action.
* Rave Mode Training approved.
* Nirvana Cross Training approved.
* Animum Psyche Ratio Research approved.
Signed:
JUDY MIZUHARA,
Head Instructor,
Imperial Capital Defense Satellite Headquarters,
KYOUTO
***Please see herein attached pertinent documents for your immediate perusal.
"..." Kai was quiet as he stood in the shed waiting for the military dirigible to come down the airstrip runway. The rain was beginning to pour very hard, but the young man hardly noticed it. Even if he had to wait until the moon rises from somewhere east if the rain should ever let up, Kai would just stay there to meet the "other" recruit coming in from Kyouto, all the way from the Imperial Headquarters somewhere in Petrograd. From what he has heard from his father, the days of the glorious Russian czars has now passed, toppled by an angry people demanding to be heard and demanding to have a voice in the affairs of the state. The abdication, and execution by the Bolsheviks of the Czar Nicholas II's family in Ekaterinburg proved to be the start of a new regime, and soon, there were rumbling talks of a new state soon to rise from the ashes like an avenging phoenix of myth and legend. If that would be true, his father commented, it is expected that they would strike hard when the time should come for them to make themselves known as another world superpower again.
Kai looked at the beautifully engraved pocket watch he kept within the folds of his cloak, now heavily drenched in the rain. It was a gift of his grandfather's, a genuine Swiss beauty, on his 13th birthday, and he has had it ever since. As long as he kept it wound and checked every single day, the pocket watch was the only thing he trusted to tell of the time as he has seen it. There was the Hiwatari Time Table, and there was the ordinary time table. If you wanted to survive the Hiwatari Time Table, you should condition yourself to be really ahead for a good 45 minutes because Kai cannot tolerate lateness. And today was no exception.
Kai frowned, then looked into the pouring rain again, looking around for any dirigible that may happen to come their way. What was taking the dirigible so long? Did the steam engine bog down or something? But then again, Hiwatari Heavy Industries was the only company in Imperial Japan at the moment who could successfully put together an engine capable of cross-country flight without suffering any breakdown along the way, for 3 days straight. Maybe the downpour has something to do with it. In any case, the newcomer was LATE, and Kai Hiwatari wasn't exactly outfitted for this kind of etiquette breach on his behalf.
And just as he was to look at his pocket watch again, he heard the distinct soft rumble of a steam engine powered dirigible coming somewhere from the east. Kai looked up, and soon a dark gray shape came into focus, heading straight for the runway. There were shouts, and soon, the runway was filled with people, holding out gas lanterns to illuminate their way and make everything ready for the imminent touchdown by means of pulling on ropes slippery with the rain, trying to make sense of the now muddy runway lost in the gloom of the heavy rain. This was a bad thing, for the dirigible cold come crashing down on them and pinning them as flat as pancakes if they weren't able to herd the dirigible to the safety of the steam powered gas lights that now lit up the runway.
But the gods were with them that day, and the dirigible, a seemingly ungainly thing that suddenly loomed up in front of them like some Frankenstein monster, alighted on the ground with only the softest of bumps that could hardly jar a dandelion head. There were a few shouts that called out in the gloom, sounds of steam as it hissed free from the engine somewhere up front, then another scattering of speech, and soon, the "staircase" was thrown out. Kai took this as his cue to get moving, and his red brown eyes narrow importantly and walked towards the now open passenger "cockpit", amidst splashes of mud and protecting himself from the unforgiving lashes of the downpour by means of his sleek black foldable umbrella.
"Welcome to the Imperial Capital," Kai said in flawless, faultless Russian. Yes, he didn't waste a good part of his 11 years in England playing polo and drinking tea; since he was a scion of the Hiwatari clan, a very influential business titan in imperial Japan, it was his duty to become as well-versed in the world affairs as he could possibly be, and one of them was by learning different languages. By the time he returned to Japan at the age of 11, he was well versed in 6 languages, which included Russian, English, Italian, French, Greek, Spanish, and Latin. He was now learning to speak and write Chinese that summer vacation in Switzerland when he went there with his grandfather, along with some German. If there was another thing he could be proud of aside from being a very skilled Sigil pilot, it was his gift for tongues. It was a trait that secured his inevitable future as the heir of the Hiwatari Heavy Industries, and by his gift, his family's influence would then extend all over the world. And Kai would be well-off for the rest of his days after that.
But now, what mattered to him at the moment, was the newcomer he has been sent to fetch from this airstrip, by Daitenji-kacho himself. The old man had said that he was a talented young man from the now chaotic Russia, and because of the fact that he was originally chosen to work for Team Axis, to which he politely declined. Kai had raised an eyebrow over this, but as the good soldier that he was, he did what was asked of him with no further questions in his part. So now he waited at the base of the steps, waiting for the newcomer, waiting for his charge, and then he could go back to rehearsing his lines for the play, then he would get some needed sleep.
There were footsteps, and soon the newcomer came into the light. He looked around in a somewhat calculating manner which Kai found a little irritating, and then he looked down at him. Kai returned his gaze with an equally expressionless look: for some strange reason, the newcomer's curious blue eyes that looked so pale as ice and clear as the sea on a calm day gave him an unpleasant jolt. He then blinked, then held out his hand to him.
"And you are Kai Hiwatari, I presume? Yes, Dr. Mizuhara had told me a lot about you before I left the base. The connecting ship from Hong Kong took a slight delay because of some unforeseen weather, but as you can see, I arrived at Kyouto in one piece." The young man said this all in perfect, flawless Japanese, without a hint of an accent that some locals found irritating. "Nasty weather, if I do say so myself. My name is Yuri Ivanov, nice to meet you."
"Kai Hiwatari." Kai took his hand and shook it. He now knew at once that he was not one person to mess up with. Yes, he would fare really well. He then nods. "Well then, the automobile is waiting. I am right in assuming that you are very tired from your trip, and you want to rest? Daitenji-kacho would be meeting us in the office as soon as we get back at the Kagekidan."
"Yes, yes, of course," Yuri Ivanov replied. "My Sigil would be handled by the express, right? I understand it was sent here by ship from Hong Kong."
"Yes." Kai gestured to his umbrella. "Shall we?"
There was only one thing that Yuri could ever remember of his childhood.
There was this huge palatial mansion, and everybody greeted him with fondness and respect, mostly people with blurry faces wearing dark blue clothes with stiff aprons, curtsying, and a low deep voice, and everything was all lit up with crystal chandeliers and priceless antiques, and huge paintings.
Then there was this huge explosion, and the next thing Yuri knew, he was in this dingy little room somewhere in Petrograd, with 2 men who were rapidly conversing in Russian right outside the door.
He was barely 4 years old, then, and all he had left of his past was a locket and an ornate-looking gold-trimmed box that looked like a trunk.
Yuri then grew up in an orphanage run by a monastery, and even then he knew that the Russian empire was crumbling so fast around their ears, and he has heard and seen many people coming in and out of the gates of the monastery, homeless, hungry, running from the many little volatile and violent insurrections happening in the countryside, and the monks took them in when nobody had an open door for any of them.
***Father Boris, why are the children crying? Are they hurt?*** Yuri had asked, when they had finished grammar study for that particular day. Father Boris Balkov (XD WAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA~~~!) just smiled kindly at him and gave him a look that was both old and wise.
***Yes, Yuri, they are hurt, and because of what the bad people are doing right in the rural villages where they had come from.***
***Why? Did those bad people take away their papas and their mamas like all of us here in the orphanage?***
***Yes, and no. These are such bad times, Yuri. Those bad people did not only take away their mamas and their papas; they did something really terrible, worse than that.***
***What could be more worse than having no papa or a mama, Father Boris?***
***Those bad people are hurting them because they're different.***
***Why? I don't see anything different with them, Father Boris. They still look like any boy or girl walking down the streets outside.***
***Ah, clever, clever boy! If only they could see them just like what you did, Yuri, then those bad things would stop. But then, they are blinded. Alas, Yuri, they do not see that they are no different than you or I. They see what's inside of them and that is what they are hurting them for, Yuri.***
***But...why?***
***The world outside is such a cruel, wicked place. Just don't let it break you, Yuri. Just remember, when everything goes wrong, still see the world just like the way you saw these crying children today. Then you would be at peace.*** Father Boris had a wistful look on his face after he said that. ***Alas, my eyes are already old...you are so fortunate to see everything very clearly, Yuri. You are indeed very fortunate...***
Yuri had held on to that thought until he grew up, and when Daitenji-kacho met him during the entrance exams of the Petrograd army training camp when he was 7, he was quite right in saying that he was a boy who had gone through a lot and yet still remains unbroken by the harsh cruel world he had first seen and experienced when the orphanage and the monastery was torn down during one very frightening firestorm involving lots and lots of people carrying guns and shooting down everything in sight, including women and children, and a lot of his friends, and even old Father Boris. He was with Mr. Dmitri Cherkovsky, who was to become his mentor in the art of sniping and gun skills in the near future.
***He is a very rare and gifted child.***
***Yes, Daitenji, he is. I am very honored to become his mentor.***
***Yes, of course.*** Daitenji-kacho smiled at him in a grandfatherly-like way. ***Hello, Yuri. I am very glad and honored to meet you.***
***...*** Yuri could remember himself as being very shy, then. He was just looking at Daitenji-kacho with wide, blinking eyes, then he scuttled to the safety behind Mr. Cherkovsky's long billowing coat. Yuri was still looking at Daitenji-kacho from behind him, though, with his wide, blinking eyes, clutching at the coat tightly with his small pale hands.
The 2 old men laughed. Daitenji-kacho then reached out and gave him a very affectionate ruffle of his hair on his head, smiling broadly.
***You're going to be a great man someday, Yuri. I would be looking forward to that day.***
And today was that day.
Yuri can't believe that he has come to the Kagekidan at last, and he was going to meet Daitenji-kacho again after 8 long years.
And he was very glad.
"Mr. Ivanov, we're already here."
Yuri blinked, then looked outside. The Kagekidan was there, alright, already alight with the wonderful electricity Hiwatari Heavy Industries took a good 4 years to perfect (involving the use of a steam-powered heavy turbine engine) along with the compact steam engines of the Sigils he has heard so much about, along with the use and discovery of -Nirvana- crystals and pretty much everything else.
Yuri stepped down from the automobile held out by the chauffeur holding an umbrella, took one look around, and sighed.
It really felt so much like going home at last.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Russia at that time is already 2 years into being a new republic, after the tsarist regime was successfully overthrown on November of 1917. It is understandable that prior to the abdication of Czar Nicholas II, the people were already unhappy from the stifling confines of the regime, and there were many small wars that broke out in the countryside, because of oppression and the like. Petrograd, where Yuri was from, is known as Leningrad today, after the father of the Russian Revolution, Lenin (V. I. Ulyanov). About where the last czar was executed, I will stand corrected here, either it was at Ekaterinberg or Nuremberg. Thank you.