Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

Note: Ah, I noticed that nobody reviewed. I guess that's not a good sign. Maybe I should delete this.

Rating: R, because of violence and swearing.

Of Leaving And Being Left

By Travis Quia

If you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.

-Friedrich Nietzsche

Chapter Two

I have a lot of relatives. Loads, and loads, and loads of them, all trying to be best in ignoring me. They are all over the world. In almost every state I can be sure to have at least one, and in some I have twenty. On Christmas they don't send me cards or presents, they don't call me on my birthday and they never ask for me if they call. They ask for my brother. My brother gets many presents, has visited a lot of those relatives I never once saw and knows languages I don't, because he stayed there for some time.

That's because I'm an accident.

My relatives don't hate me, they just don't know of me. My father has hidden me safely when he decided to bring me to my 'grandfather'. That grandfather is an outcast of the family, he's stopped talking to them ever since he went to jail. I don't know how the hell such a nice old lunatic had made it to jail, but he sure did. I found evidence of that in the attic. There are photos of his cell and him and some of his friends in there, playing chess. Some even show him running at a lake, probably trying to stay fit. He sure did that. At the age of eighty he's still as agile as he was with eight.

Sometimes I wonder how it could be that such an accident like me turned out to have such a perfect life. It's really unfair, if you know that my relatives are rich but will never be as rich as me, with all the money I won just by blading. They'd probably cry over it if they knew about me. Or not. I really didn't meet most of them even once, so it would be stupid to think that I knew what they were like.

Sometimes my father visits and then he doesn't say anything about me being an accident. He's a good guy, even if he makes the wrong choices every once in a while. He tried to give me the best home he could think of, sadly that hadn't been with him in Egypt, digging out old stuff, but with my grandfather, who could play chess and knew of Kendo. However, it was alright since I was an accident.

My mother had had blue hair like mine. She had travelled a lot, and she loved cats. I love cats too. Some people remind me of cats. Sly, silent people, who take what they need when they need it...

The scene in Kai's bedroom felt a bit like an accident, too. Like a thing that wasn't supposed to happen, but happened anyway because fate wanted it, and what fate wanted fate got, like water is wet. At some times, however, water didn't feel wet, and so did fate seem like luck at that moment. I embraced it with open arms, receiving stabbings that made me even more confident. I'm desperate at times.

"Give me the knife." I demanded and the force in my voice surprised even myself. "I'm not going out until I have that fucking knife in my hand." Kai was staring at the knife. He blinked, and looked as though he just woke up from a deep dream. "You hate me? So what? I'm sure you could do worse."

"Go away." He said, but the scary anger behind his voice was gone and he sounded more like he wanted me to tell him what to do.

"Give me the knife, you have no right to kill yourself."

"I…" Kai looked dreamily at the blood on his wrist and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I have no right to not kill myself." He finally stated, like the solution to a simple question involving numbers rather than feelings. "I've failed…" He continued, his eyes once more glancing over with that suffocating anger. "I didn't even intend to kill myself you moron!" He suddenly spat out, glaring at me.

"You can't think clearly, in what condition are you to tell me that you've not tried to commit suicide?"

"I've already been trying to think clearly, and then you burst in!"

"Sure…"

"Pain cleans my thoughts, you won't understand, you are nothing like me."

"I'm glad that I'm nothing like you, I'd want everyone to be nothing like you, maybe the world would be a better place then!" He suddenly put the knife onto his wrist again and cut, with me watching horrified. When I was recovered from my shock I quickly fetched it out of his firm grip. "You bloody idiot! Hating yourself like that…sometimes I wish I was the one hurting you, not you yourself!" He started to laugh at that.

"You're just as crazy as I remember you." He said chuckling. "But I'm much more crazy so that doesn't matter at all, doesn't do any harm to no one…" Kai said and suddenly I realized with a start that he'd probably lost too much blood, so he couldn't think rational anymore. He needed help, and that now. Though he would have probably needed help all of his life, just had he always been too proud to ask for it. Like a phoenix that couldn't be reborn, was he caged in a world without the freedom of killing himself, like those free and mighty birds did.

I could only see the pain from afar, that must have haunted him all of his life, not being able to do what his nature wanted from him, because he knew what it meant for his mind, since he wasn't a phoenix in body, only in thought.

It was probably the mighty bird's way to hurt itself whenever it thought it had done something wrong, to be reborn and know better. But Kai couldn't do that. Kai'd feel dirty all of his life, not able to give his soul a rest and yet not fully restraining himself from self inflicting pain either. It was hopeless and so much so that I broke too, just a bit and just for him.