You see that over there in the distance? That's actually something approaching a plot! W00t! Maybe this won't be a total loss after all.

This chapter is set quite a while before the previous one. I say again, it is a FLASHBACK. DO NOT GET CONFUSED. Kai is going off to Russia for a training stint with Tala, as was mentioned in Chapter One.

For the disclaimer, warnings, pairings and the rest of the rules and regulations, check out the first chapter. I'm lazy and I don't want to retype it all. Bear with me here. Why do today what you can stuff into the darkest depths of your files and hope will never see the light of day again?

Plus, the whole second person POV thing wasn't working. It only really works well when used in conjunction with the present tense, I've found. As my English teacher once gave me sixty percent for an assignment I wrote in the present tense, I've been paranoid about using it ever since. So I'm back to a more normal POV.

Chapter Two

Not Yet Forgotten

By the time we got to the airport, the sun was already setting, we were running late, Kai was getting cranky, and I was close to crying.

Grandpa dropped us off at the departures hall and circled away to try and find a parking space. I remember Kai looking kind of put off by having me with him as he grabbed his two suitcases and began to wheel them away rapidly. I think he'd been kind of hoping that I'd stay in the car, and that he would be able just to walk away as usual. Not happening. I was sticking with him for as long as possible this time. I wasn't letting him out of my sight until I absolutely had to.

He strode into the huge, packed departures hall, apprehensively checking the time. We were very late. Cool air, carefully conditioned but still slightly stale, hit my face, along with the low hum of conversation. I expected him to go striding off without a word towards the gate to his flight, but instead, he pushed his way through the crowd, dragged his suitcases over to a chair, sat down, kicked his legs out in front of him and folded his arms across his chest.

"Um…shouldn't you be going?" I asked, coming to stand in front of him after having battled my way through a knot of tourists.

He motioned his head towards the departures board, where his flight was listed as delayed. Oh, great. So that meant that I had a whole fifteen more minutes with him. In one way, that was good, in another, it sucked. How was I supposed to last fifteen minutes without crying? I sunk down into the chair next to his, locked my hands firmly behind my head, and stared up at the ceiling determinedly.

See, here's the thing: Maxie had left already, although he was due to come back sometime soon to see his dad again. Rei had gone a couple weeks ago. Hilary was going to stay overseas with one of her friends from school for a couple of weeks. I mean, I'd been getting all happy about having a real Bladebreakers reunion, and then everyone just…leaves.

Again.

Most of all, I had been looking forward to spending time with him – not the sort of time that involves loads of awkward silence before he gets on a plane and walks right out of my life, but the sort of time that involves…well, I don't know – blading, arguing, having fun - maybe even some normal conversation, if that wasn't too much to ask.

Apparently, it wasn't going to happen.

I was sitting on a hard, uncomfortable plastic chair in a crowded, noisy airport, and I was completely freaking out. I was all high and shivery from adrenaline, my heart pumping very loudly in my ears. My throat felt bruised and choked as I tried to hold back tears. I knew it was stupid to be crying, but I really, really, really didn't want him to go. My legs were like water, all quivery and weak, and breathing was getting difficult. There was a tight, miserable hotness in my chest, and every now and then, I would think about him again, and I would get even more upset, and tears would push themselves up behind my eyes and threaten to spill down my cheeks.

I was not having fun.

After a few minutes, I said, desperate to break the silence, "How long are you staying there?"

"I told you," he said, shortly. "A month."

"Call me when you get there, OK?" I asked. "If it ends up like last time, I'm going to…do…I'm going to be cross with you for the rest of my life, got it? Call me."

"Fine," he said, sounding disinterested.

"Please?"

"I already said I would," he growled in a low voice. He was getting mad, and I didn't care. I had to make sure.

"I mean, Rei's already written us a letter, and Maxie e-mails, like, every other day. You…"

"I said I would, Tyson, now leave it!"

"Fine," I said, and sniffed. I hoped that it wasn't too obvious.

"Do you have a cold?" he snapped.

So much for hoping. "No," I said, swallowing hard.

"Then shut up."

"No!" I yelled, jerking around to face him. His eyes were closed, his mouth folded impassively. It was like I wasn't even there. The sight made the confused welter of feelings inside me spill up, and I shouted, "I'm not going to see you for a month, Kai! A month! Do you know how long that is? That's, like, forever! And without you! I can't go forever without you! I…Kai…are you even listening to me?"

"It would be difficult not to," he said, disdainfully. "You're shouting."

"Of course I'm shouting!" I…shouted. "You know why? Because you make me so mad, Kai! Because no matter how hard we try to be nice to you, all you do is act like a stupid, stuck-up jerk! And for some reason, we actually like you, and our feelings get hurt when you won't talk to us, but you don't actually care, because you're so self-centred that you don't give about anyone except yourself!"

He gave that soft little 'huh' sound he always makes when he's about to be really evil, and said, smoothly, "There's a difference between self-centredness and self-control."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I squeaked indignantly.

"Figure it out," he said.

I hate him.

"Are you even going to look at me, Kai?" I asked eventually, my voice low, and slightly rough with the maddening tears that I was only just managing to hold back. I couldn't stop looking at him, at his stupid pale skin and his stupid hair and his stupid, frowning mouth. I was willing him to open his eyes even the littlest bit, and for him to turn his head and just maybe give me even the teensiest little smile – but no. Kai smiles approximately once a year. I knew that.

"Why should I?"

I didn't really have an answer for that. Infuriated, I stuck my tongue out at him; this was a total waste of energy, seeing as we'd just established that his eyes were closed. Right. My brain wasn't working. I was too busy stopping myself from bursting into tears to focus on normal things like thinking.

I still couldn't stop looking at him.

Plus, I hadn't eaten in hours.

Not a good day, then.

Why do I even care so much? Why do I bother? Why?

OK, actually, I do know why. It's cause that, even though he makes like he's all tough and he doesn't care, I know perfectly well that he does care. He stood by me through every single battle, even when we fought each other. If there's anyone I had to lose to, I would want to lose to him. The one thing I really admire about him is his dedication. He pushes himself so hard that it scares me, sometimes. I could never do half the things he could.

Then again, I don't think I could ever be as mean as he is. Doesn't he get bored of being an arrogant, conceited creep? I mean, no matter how hard you try, sooner or later you're going to have to have someone to go running to. No one can do everything alone – not even Kai.

He could come running to me whenever he wanted, and you know why? Because I look up to him. Because he is strong and proud and fierce and dedicated, and because I trust him. You know when you just really, really like someone? When even thinking about not having them with you just scares you? I like being around him. I like knowing, at the back of my mind, that he's always going to be there. I like pretending that he's never going to go away.

Yeah. Pretending.

I heard it then: the announcement that boarding for his flight had begun. Something inside me lurched, and for a minute I thought that I was going to be sick. I pressed my lips together hard, held my breath, and tried to count to ten, which is what Hilary always tells me to do when I'm going to get mad at someone. Guess what? I think my brain shut down about halfway here. See, that was when Kai stood up - calmly, wordlessly, and without looking back at me. He lifted his small suitcase into his hand, grabbed the handle of the larger one and began wheeling it across the white, tiled floor. No goodbye. Not even a look. Nothing.

Forget about counting to ten. He was dead.

I got up, fell over, scrambled to my feet, and began running. "Kai! Wait up!" He just kept walking. I skidded to a halt behind him, choking on adrenaline and some other feeling that I refused to think about, and grabbed his arm, pulling him around to face me, almost getting hit in the stomach by the suitcase.

As he looked up at me, there was this very weird expression in his eyes, almost like he was asking me for a favour. He said, in a quiet, urgent voice, "Could you leave me alone for once, Tyson?"

"No," I said, firmly, despite the fact that my chin was wobbling and my vision was getting blurry all over again. Tears pressed painfully at the corners of my eyes. His face was a pale smear of anger and what looked almost like defeat. "I'm not letting you go."

"I'll miss the flight," he said, gratingly. Sullenly, sadly, not wanting to see his face any more, I looked down at his arm, and at my hand clutching it. I could feel how his muscles were tensed against my grip. He'd always hated being close to people. I remember thinking that it would be the nice thing to do to at least give him some more personal space, but I was dead scared that if I stopped holding onto him, he would completely disappear. Still gazing intently at my fingers, I sniffed, and pleaded,

"Can't you wait just a little longer?"

"No," he said, his voice emotionless, stating a fact – but I've known him since I was a kid, and there was definitely something strange in his tone.

"Please?" I asked, desperately, my voice quavering. I suddenly realised that the whole 'I'm going to be brave and not cry' thing was pretty much dead. I gave a little hiccough, and it came out as a sob, and the next thing I knew, my cheeks were wet and warm as tear after tear squeezed its way out and dribbled down past my lips. Still clinging to his arm, I looked up at him, and saw his straight, thin lips, and his shadowy hair, and searched for the powerful, ruthless strength that was always hidden in his eyes, hidden somewhere behind the disdain and indifference – and met something completely different.

For one insane, shocked, I-think-I-should-be-on-medication second, I swear it looked like he was concerned. Then the world got even scarier, and the concern changed to…again, all it looked like was defeat, like he had been trying not to do something, but had done it anyway. He said, "Tyson," and the sadness in his voice made me drop his arm and practically leap back. Great. Now I was making him miserable. That was not what I'd had in mind.

"Hey, it's OK, man," I said, shakily, pressing my hands against my face and rubbing the tears away as hard as I could, then staring down resolutely at the floor. "Look, I just wanted to say goodbye, alright?"

"Goodbye," he said, his voice almost hoarse. His feet moved out of my range of vision, and I heard the clatter of the suitcase's wheels as they skittered across the flawless tiling. A tear dropped onto my hand, and, knowing that I was going to get seriously injured because of this, I dashed forward, flung myself at him from behind and threw my arms around him.

My nose found a warm, soft nest in his hair, and I pressed my face into his neck and cried as my arms locked themselves around his front, rising and falling with his breaths, which were surprisingly short and sharp, like he was cross. Great. Was he pissed with me?

OK, duh, Tyson. He's Kai.

His skin was warm through the tight cloth of his shirt. I knew that I was about to pummelled to a pulp, but I suddenly really wanted to stay with him. I hung onto him, feeling his neck and cheek heat up – he was blushing? – as the strands of hair pressed to my face grew steadily damper and damper as the tears kept flowing. I was shaking, I think. All I could do was cling to his warm, solid body, and pretend that he wasn't going to go away. If I tried hard, I could make it feel like it was just an ordinary day, and that I was hugging him not because he was leaving, but because I…because I…oh, hell…

His neck moved; he was turning his head. I moved my face up from his shoulder, and found myself with my forehead pressed against his, our noses touching. Trying to focus made me go cross-eyed and was giving me a headache, so I let my lids droop closed, hoping that I wasn't about to get thrown half-way across the hall. His mouth moving against my cheek, his breath tickling my jawbone, he said again, in a dark, quiet voice, "Goodbye, Tyson."

Then he had pulled away, and I was left staring at him walking away across the cold, white floor, while the grey, pale light of evening spilled through the clear air.

Ereshkigali: Kai, as usual, was OOC. Go ahead and flame me. Fire be pretty.

As I said before, THIS WAS A FLASHBACK. The next chapter will be set directly after Chapter One. I will hammer it in again next time, just in case you missed the big, bold letters, so don't worry.

Thanks to everyone who summoned up the considerable courage needed to review "Don't even ask". Yup, it was indeed written at 2 AM while a highly hyperactive cat (I swear, I have WAY too many of said fluffy entities floating around the house) hung onto my hair by its teeth. How did you guess?

PLEASE review! I just so happen to have a stash of Bakura plushies conveniently lying around…no, wait, I'm keeping all those for myself. How about this? A death-dealing, teeth-baring, havoc-wreaking kitty-cat with serious behavioural problems (but with a very high level of cuteness) to everyone who reviews!

Random Evil Kitten: You think THAT'S going to make them review!

Ereshkigali: Oh, go murder something else for a change. I'm going to bed.