Tyson: But I thought this was going to be a flashback chapter?

Reshki: Guess what? I LIED!

Tyson: That's not very nice.

Reshki: I know. (smiles sweetly)

Tyson: Uh…may I ask why you're posting something as totally screwed up as this? And this time it really IS screwed up.

Reshki: OK, I know, I did something I'd sworn never to do – I tried to write a Beybattle.

Tyson: (falls over in shock) NOOOOO! (dies theatrically)

Reshki: Yes, and I regret it. It's…OK, a fairly accurate description would be "utterly devoid of anything even approaching good taste". Sorry. Please feel free to hate me.

Tyson: Ahem…can't I do the disclaimer?

Reshki: I thought you were dead?

Tyson: (thinks) OK. Greetings from the spirit world. I am the ghost of Tyson. My otherworldly wisdom tells me that Reshki does not own Beyblade or any of the characters in this fic, and that it will also contain true stupidity, shonen-ai, and mild language. Be warned! I have been known to randomly haunt people at will. FEAR ME!

Reshki: OK, you do that, Tyson.(sighs) Well, if he hasn't scared the readers away, I'm hoping the Beybattle won't. Read on, wonderful readers, and even more wonderful reviewers…and try not to die just yet, please? I do love you all really.

Chapter Six

Sunset

It was late afternoon. The day had cleared up since yesterday, and the sky was bright and blue, tinged with a deep, clear wash of golden light that meant that sunset was not far off.

The training hall was large, at the front of the house, complete with an area for basic stretching and fitness exercises. In addition to several small practise rings, there was one large Beydish in the very centre of the room. The entire exterior wall was made of sliding glass doors, so that while one trained, one could look directly out onto the ocean. I liked that. The crowded, grimy streets of cities and the shadowy, claustrophobic passages of stuffy buildings have always put me uneasily in mind of the Abbey, and also remind me of the suffocating proximity of others. I prefer open spaces where I can train by myself. I was completely alone; the others were pigging out in front of the TV, as usual. Tyson seemed to be regarding yesterday afternoon's brush with death as an excuse to eat even more than usual, if that was actually physically possible.

I began stretching meticulously, my mind elsewhere. Specifically speaking, it was still somewhere out in the cold, grey waters of yesterday, unable to think with worry and fear.

Oh, Tyson.

I'd carried him up to the house with Rei's help. He seemed to be absolutely fine – just shaken, and cold. The others had stayed with him the whole afternoon, and much of the evening, too; Max had stayed by his side the longest, eventually leaving, exhausted, for his own room at past midnight. He'd passed me on the way out; I was sitting in the doorway, my arms curled around my knees, my eyes on the bed where Tyson lay sleeping. He was perfectly alright, I knew - he was just milking the extra attention. That didn't mean I was going to leave him, though.

Max had stopped as he passed through the door, and looked down at me. Quietly, he'd said, "Hey, Kai. You going to bed?"

Mutely, I had moved my head slowly from side to side.

He'd nodded, accepting this, and said, in a soft, affectionate voice, "Take care of him, OK?" before disappearing down the hallway.

I hadn't slept the whole night.

Did Tyson know it was me who had saved him? Had the others told him? I hoped not. It was embarrassing. I would have preferred to forget the entire incident and move on. It had been frightening, watching from the beach; he had gone down, and he hadn't come up. It had taken me a full minute to realise that this wasn't another stupid joke, and that was when I'd leapt up and started sprinting down to the water, my mind numb with fear. In a way, it was almost ironic. Seeing Tyson dangling lifeless, helpless in the water beneath me had reminded me horribly of the time when Brooklyn had come so close to defeating me.

That had been possibly the toughest battle of my life.

Broken and bleeding from his attacks, I had suddenly felt myself falling, floating down through layers of nothingness, the roar of the crowd, the cheers of my team fading away completely. I had been more alone in that moment than in any other, and, as I slipped farther and farther away from reality, I had been prepared to give up. I had been willing to let go, to forget everything, to sleep, finally and forever. It was then that a hand had reached down…

…a hand had reached down…

If it had been anyone else, I don't think I would have had the strength to come back. It was only because it was Tyson - my enemy, my friend, my guide - that I kept fighting, that I summoned up the courage to continue. To give in then would have been undeniable weakness, and I could never allow him to see me as anything but strong. I came because he asked me to, and because I could not deny him anything he asked. I came back because he was worth more than anything. I came back because I loved him.

He'd risked his life because of me far too many times now.

It was, I supposed, the least I could do to pay back the favour once in a while.

Back in the present, I stood, picking my launcher up from the floor, pulling Dranzer carefully from my right pocket, and fumbling around in my left for the old ripcord I'd found that morning. It was actually one of Tyson's spares, but he and I had spent several afternoons together modifying it, and I'd wanted to see if the hours of clowning around (on his part), extreme bad-temperedness (on my part), and bickering (on both our parts) had actually been worth it.

"Aha!" someone said in my ear.

"Shouldn't you be doing whatever it is the completely incompetent do?" I sighed, folding my arms, ignoring the small twinge of mindless happiness that had flared up when I heard his voice.

"I," Tyson said, grabbing my shoulder and spinning me around to face him, "have been looking for you the entire day."

"Well, seeing as you slept in for so long this morning, that can't have been too long," I shot back, glaring at him, secretly very glad to see him on his feet again. I had left his room at ten that morning when Hilary and Kenny came to bring him breakfast in bed, brushing past them without a word, and hadn't seen him since – though I had heard him yelling at Daichi an awful lot, which I'd taken as a sign that he was feeling just great.

He stuck his tongue out at me. "At least I'm not a criminal," he said. "You, Kai Hiwatari, are a…a no-good, low-down, ripcord-stealing…ripcord-stealer!"

"Says who, exactly?"

"Me!" His hand shot out, but not fast enough. I dangled the ripcord high above his head, out of reach. "Come on, Kai, that's mine!" he puffed, waving his arms around, making wild grabs at my hand.

"Bit slow today, are we, Tyson?" I taunted him. "You can do better than that, surely?"

"Yes, I can!" he shouted, and, clutching at my shoulder, grabbed my wrist and twisted my arm down. I tired to stop him, and for a moment we grappled, competing, as always, to see who was strongest. He won. He trapped my arm against his chest with an elbow and used his free hand to twist the ripcord out of my fingers. "So there, Kai!" he crowed. "Guess you're the one who's slow. Then again, I would be too if I'd been up the whole night."

I froze.

He looked up into my face, and smiled. "Hey, relax, dude. Kenny and Maxie told me you stayed with me. That's cool. I mean, it was a nice thing to do."

I gave a little snort, and muttered, "Whatever," before stalking off, pulling away from his grip, heading for the big Beydish in the centre of the room. I heard him following me, and then felt his hand slip onto my shoulder as he leaned against me. I turned my head to look down at his face, cuddled up against my arm.

"You're getting a huge, big hug," he informed me, cheerfully, "seeing as you were fearless and bold and saved my life and did all the other stuff that super-hero-type dudes do."

I jerked him off my arm dispassionately. Now, I told myself, he was beginning to work on my nerves. "Tyson, either do something constructive or leave."

"Wow, I'm loved," he sighed. "Can't a guy talk to his buddies once in a while?"

"I wouldn't know," I said through my teeth. "I don't have buddies."

"Yeah, you do!" he said. Mentally, I kicked myself. I had probably just given him full license to start on another friendship speech – as if I didn't have to sit through one at least once every day. "You got me, right?"

"Wrong," I corrected, grabbing the ripcord from his hand a little too roughly. My nail caught the skin on the back of his hand, so that a fuzzy, red line flared up in its wake.

"Ow!" he complained, sucking on it crossly. "Dude, that was not necessary."

I clicked Dranzer into place on the launcher, shoved the ripcord home, and wrenched it out again viciously, sending the blade racing across the dish and back again, leaping back into my hand. Not bad. I inserted the ripcord again, preparing to try for a little more stability…

"Kai, can't you just listen for one second?'"

"No."

"OK. Wait." He put his hand on my arm just as I launched Dranzer, completely throwing off my aim. The blade flew crookedly through the air and landed on its side some way away. I swung around to face him angrily. He cowered, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry!" he squeaked. "Seriously, dude, I'm sorry…"

I stalked past him to retrieve Dranzer. He followed me, making stupid comments like, "I didn't mean to!" and "Hey, sorry!" I knelt down, scooping up Dranzer carefully into the palm of my hand, and straightened up again. He was standing behind me, still with that idiotic, hopeful, innocent look on his face. It was the one he'd worn that time, long ago, when Hilary had caught him and me in the middle of a midnight feast, his face covered in the last of the chocolate cake. I would have smiled at the memory, but I was not in a smiling mood.

"You don't get it, do you?" I asked him, my voice quiet a first, but growing louder with each word. "You just don't get it!"

"Get what?" he asked, still wearing that pathetic smile. "Uh, Kai, please don't kill me just yet, I kind of like living…"

"Stop it!" I shouted. "Stop being stupid, stop being immature, and stop acting like we're friends! I've had it, Tyson! You never leave me alone! You never get off my back! Did it never occur to you that I don't talk because I don't want to talk?"

"Maybe I want to talk to you!" he yelled. "Did you think about that, Kai? Did you think about maybe I actually like you? 'Cause I do, you know – I look up to you, Kai, even when you're being selfish and rude like this. There's no one in the whole world I'd rather be with than you. I want…I want to be as strong as you, Kai. I want to be as dedicated as you. And you know what else? I want you to like me. How's that for crazy? 'Cause you know what? I have fun with you – I have fun blading with you, I have fun arguing with you, I have fun even when I'm telling myself that I hate your guts…I want to be your friend, Kai."

"Well, you're out of luck," I said, and hated myself even as I said it. I felt like I'd punched him in the face. It hurt to look at the sadness in his eyes, but I made myself do it. I couldn't be weak in front of him – I couldn't…

"You know what the worst thing is?" he asked, bitterly. "It sucks when you're angry, and all, but at least then I know you care. What's worst is when you're like this, Kai – when you act like you don't feel anything – and I know that that's nonsense, because I know you care about me." We were in very dangerous territory now. Of course I cared. I loved him. The only flaw was that he didn't love me; he cared for me, yes, but as friend cares for friend. It was so easy to let myself believe that he loved me. I had to keep forcing myself to get a grip. He was talking about friendship, I kept telling myself: ordinary, straightforward, completely platonic friendship.

Wasn't he?

He was watching my face, trying to pick up some kind of reaction. I kept my expression as blank as always. After a long, sad silence, he said, in a small, broken voice, "Don't we mean anything to you at all? Rei, Maxie, Hil, Daichi, Kenny? Don't you care about us? Tala? What about him?" When I still said nothing he added, in a resentful tone, "What about me? What do I mean to you?"

"Not a lot," I said, slowly, deliberately.

"I know you're lying, dude!" he said. "Because the day before yesterday, you said that you'd do anything for me. I heard you, Kai, I heard you say that! I'm not stupid, OK? And – I mean, OK, I'm like your archrival or whatever. I get bumped off, your way to the title of World Champion's clear. So, if I mean so little to you, then why did you save me yesterday? It would have made your life easier just to…to leave me there."

"I couldn't let someone drown," I said, gruffly, trying to sound sincere, to sound human. I shrugged. "I'd feel…guilty."

"That's it?" he squeaked. "So, you save someone 'cause you don't want a guilty conscience thingy? Dude, that's messed up, and it's not true."

"And you know that how, exactly?" I asked. "Don't think you know me, Tyson. Spending a few months of the summer together doesn't make us best friends."

"Yeah, well, it makes you my best friend, whether you like it or not," he said.

I said nothing. I didn't want to say anything, and, even if I had wanted to, I wouldn't have known what.

"Kai?" he continued, quietly. "You know you make absolutely no sense, right?" When I didn't respond, he said, stumblingly, "One day I'm the only one who means anything to you, the next you hate me. Could you make up your mind? Only I'm kind of getting tired of keeping up with your little mood swings or whatever."

I still couldn't think of anything to say. I turned my back on him, and began walking slowly back to the Beydish. He caught my arm, his fingers resting in the crook of my elbow. For a long while, neither of us said anything. Then he wiggled his fingers, tickling me, and said, "Sorry."

I said, grudgingly, "It's not your fault, Tyson. It's – it's mine. I'm…sorry." I looked at him over my shoulder. He laughed, winked, and absently pulled his cap off, spinning his it around in one hand and jamming it back onto his head backwards.

"Up for a Beybattle?" he asked, innocently.

For some reason, I laughed, too, quietly, feeling the familiar sting of adrenaline slice through me as I said, "Let's do it."

Moving to the Beydish, I clicked Dranzer into place in my launcher, feeling excitement pulse through me. I was blading against Tyson again. I felt the old, jaw-gritting determination to win, the spike of confidence and eagerness ripping through me. Pretending not to watch him, but secretly following his every move as he positioned himself on the other side of the dish, his back to the view of the ocean, I brought the launcher out in front of me, and glanced up at him. He didn't smile, but nodded, ever so slightly, and drew back his arm, pulling the ripcord. I tugged at mine with all my might, grunting, even as he did, "Let it rip!"

Dranzer hit the Beydish spinning, finding its centre of gravity and righting itself, surging across the dish to meet Dragoon, which nimbly evaded it, darting to the right. "Heh! Like I didn't see that coming!" Tyson crowed. "Oh, you're in trouble now, Kai." Dragoon veered up, climbing the sloped sides to hug the very lip of the dish, racing round to my side. Meeting his eyes for a single moment was enough to tell me what he was planning, and so Dranzer stayed put in the middle of the dish. "Now!" Tyson shouted, and Dragoon leapt up into the air, and came arcing down sharply, hitting the surface at full tilt, preparing to slam right into me. I'd seen it coming, and immediately sent Dranzer shooting up off the ground to avoid Dragoon's attack – but Tyson had predicted this, and his blade followed mine, so that they clashed in mid-air.

They fell down pressed against each other, the whirring attack rings glittering with sparks as they crashed together. We pulled away at the last moment, calling our blades back, letting them circle each other warily.

"You're getting rusty, Kai," Tyson taunted. "You'll have to be sneaky if you want to get past me!"

"Do you want to blade or talk?" I shot back.

For answer, Dragoon darted forward, but Dranzer, still circling, wheeled around in the other direction, zipping away, picking up speed, catching Dragoon from behind and slamming it hard so that it skidded away across the dish. For a moment, I thought I'd won, but then his blade came rushing back at Dranzer, taking it head-on and hurling it away. I barely managed to hold its balance. "Get the message?" he asked. A slight breeze stirred, tickling the back of my neck, tugging gently, insistently at my bangs, stroking my skin like cool, playful fingers. I knew what it meant – he was beginning to call out Dragoon.

I almost grinned. He'd asked for it. With a sigh of anticipation, I drew my blade back a little, steadying it, kicking its rotation speed up a notch, and feeling the pure, exultant rage of Dranzer's spirit beginning to rise inside me. The air around the blade began to glow slightly, shimmering with the heat. Flecks of fire danced and glittered before my eyes. "Look out, Tyson," I called softly, mockingly. "Look out." Feeling the power build up like molten flame inside me, I looked across at him, our eyes meeting. Love surged through me, heightening my strength, my determination, and Dranzer rose up, its red-gold wings smouldering in the bright air, its head curved in readiness for an attack, the dark heart of flame pulsing behind its eyes, blazing down the sides of the dish to meet with Dragoon at the centre.

The wind was whipping around me furiously now, howling in my ears, sizzling with cold, fierce electricity that stung my eyes and tore at my heart. The centre of the dish was glowing, radiating a fierce, glassy light as Dragoon twined around Dranzer. The bitbeasts clung together so closely that it was becoming difficult to see which was which: Dragoon, powerful and headstrong, and Dranzer, passionate and proud – embracing or fighting? It was impossible to tell. The air currents churned and swirled around a still heart of flame. Shaking, trembling with the effort of maintaining the power, I raised my eyes slowly, painfully, to gaze across at Tyson, his form distorted slightly by the rippling heat. He was smiling, his eyes sparkling, his face flushed with exertion. He was so alive, so open, so strong, that he made everyone else seem quiet and contained by comparison. Something inside me broke, and I suddenly realised that I had to win. I had to be strong for him; I could never, ever let him see me as anything else but strong.

So I lashed out with all my strength. Dranzer shrieked, a searing war-car that ripped through the roaring of the winds, and Dragoon was knocked up and away. For a moment, it hung, revolving slowly in the golden air, light winking off its edges, before tumbling down, gathering speed, until, with a soft, whickering click, it hit the tiled floor, bounced once, toppled onto its side, and lay still.

The whipping, deafening winds died down to cool, gentle swathes of air, flowing around me like water, and I felt Dragoon's presence curl up contentedly and fade away. Silently, I called Dranzer back, catching the still-spinning, feeling it fit perfectly into the palm of my hand. Quickly, I ran my eye over its surface, checking for damage. Finding none, I tucked it gently away into my pocket, and looked up to see Tyson straightening up from bending to down to retrieve Dragoon.

It was later than I had realised, and the sun was already beginning to go down. He stood there against the sky, the brilliant, searing flames of the sunset glancing off the bright water, shimmering and rippling and pouring down him, staining his skin a deep, glowing colour, as though he were made entirely out of light, the free, piercing spirit inside him soaring up to meet me. Fire spilled through the sky, and the air welcomed it, letting the light suffuse through it, soaking up the million shades of orange and crimson and yellow, lanced with the shadow-colours of deep, secretive bronze and black, and a few floating, hazy patches of ethereal blue. I found myself walking towards him across the hall, drawn to him, drawn to the fierce, passionate brilliance in him. He had lost, I knew – so what? He had bladed with true skill, with power, with confidence. I respected and admired him no end, although I would never have admitted it.

As I reached him, facing him, I suddenly didn't know what to say; I opened my mouth, but could find no words. Clumsily, happily, he reached down, and his fingers slipped into mine, so that we stood, bathed in the many, mingling colours of the sunset, holding each other's hands. He was smiling at me. He said, still a little out of breath, his voice overflowing with satisfaction, "Now that was a Beybattle."

"I guess," I said, stiffly.

"I mean it," he insisted, squeezing my hands slightly in his earnestness. "You deserved to win. I'm…I'm glad you did, Kai." The smile grew, and he began to play with my fingers, linking them with his, tickling them gently, stroking them in a manner that made me feel as though I were melting with love. "Heh, it just means I'm going to feel even better when I get my revenge! Ah, you better watch out, Kai my man, because next time Dragoon and I are going to roll right over you."

"Is that a fact?" I asked him, laughing quietly, absently stoking his palm with my thumb. How could I not love him when he said things like that? Just the littlest things, the stupid, common words that everyone else said – just the littlest things made me love him.

"Believe it," he warned.

"Tyson, you may talk big, but you've never once managed to live up to your boasting. Do the world a favour and get over yourself."

"Hey! That was uncalled for!"

I smirked, twisting my little finger around his. "It's true."

"Ah, man! You just can't give me break, can you?"

"Believe it," I mocked softly.

He looked at me for a moment, and then said, "Do you know what I thought the very first time I ever saw you? You know, by the river, when you were still a blade-stealing, trash-talking bully?" He pinched my thumb gently between two of his fingers as he said it, then slowly locked my hands between his own and brought them up to cuddle them under his chin, hugging them to his chest. My legs had gone very weak at the knees. "You know what I thought? I thought, 'Oh, man. This guy's going to be trouble'. I swear, I was standing there, and those words were just going through my head, over and over – 'he's going to be trouble'." He looked quite proud of himself. "Was I right or what? That's, like, predicting the future! I'm psychic!"

I didn't say anything for a moment. We were standing very close together now, our hands clutched together in a knot of fingers that rested on his chest. I could smell the clean, fresh scent of his shampoo as his hair dangled in my face. Slowly, almost drunkenly, I eventually said, "I love blading against you, Tyson."

His face lit up all the more, the rich, orange and gold light spilling around him, creating a nimbus of deep copper around his face. The intensity in his eyes then, the sheer, unashamed devotion, was electrifying, like being filled up with clear, powerful joy. With a small hitch in his voice, he said, "It's the best thing in the world…Kai." He lingered on my name, our faces precariously close now. "We're not ever going to stop. We've got our whole lives still ahead of us, to blade, and to teach, and to do…whatever we want to! You and me, Kai…we're going to take the world by storm!"

"Together," I confirmed, my voice still slow, caught up in this breathless, giddy moment. "I don't want to be without you. I'll…whatever life throws at us, Tyson, I'll always be here to face it with you, no matter what." I swallowed, and added, in a voice that sounded devastatingly tender even to my own ears, "I'll never leave you." Slowly, barely understanding what I was doing, but unable to stop all the same, I leaned my forehead against his, loving the feel of his body against mine, drinking in his warmth, his acceptance, his compassion, his courage. He rubbed his cheek against mine, and sighed, a happy little shiver running through his body. The closeness, the gentleness, the dreamy, wonderful love, all ran together like a river of fire inside me, flooding me with painful, piercing contentment. I felt tears prick my eyes as I we stood there, pressed to each other, breathing in unison, our hands curled together, our bodies basking in the warm, melting light of the fiery sunset that had saturated the room. I closed my eyes, feeling as though I were dissolving, seeping out of my body and into his, meeting him, knowing him, loving him, holding him - forever.

Slowly, his hands slipped away from mine and wound around my waist. I slid my arms up and around his neck, pulling his body against mine with an odd desperation, trying to get even closer to him, as though making sure that he was real, wanting to keep him for my own. I pressed my face against his, hearing myself whimper slightly, nuzzling his cheek with my nose, suddenly needing him more than ever before. I felt his hand touch the back of my neck, feather-soft and entrancing. Even such a simple thing was enough to make me go crazy with pent-up longing. A series of whispery shivers dripped down my spine, and I moaned softly, looking up hungrily into his face, clutching him to me, my breaths hard and sharp. His eyes were darkly golden, and heart-wrenchingly beautiful. His hand moved up, slowly, slowly, trailing along my face, each second heightening the delirious, trembling sensations swirling inside me, until at last the tips of his fingers rested on my lips, and he was tilting my head, pulling my face slowly, steadily, down to his, his mouth drawing closer and closer to mine…

…then the door banged, and a voice said, "Oh. Erm. Uh…hi, guys…"

"Gah! M-Ma…M-M-M-Maxie!" Tyson stammered loudly, jumping away from me, his voice strained and falsely cheerful. Looking at the floor, I felt terribly embarrassed for him, as he was obviously preparing to pretend that this hadn't happened, hoping that Max would get the message and pretend as well. There was a slight pause after his footsteps stopped, and I knew that he would be giving Max one small, casual, pleading look, and shaking his head the tiniest bit. Then he said, brightly, "So, what're you doing here?"

"We're going down to the beach again this evening – the weather's cleared up, so we figured we'd have a party…want to come?"

"Awesome!" he enthused, his voice becoming easy and sincere. "That'll be sweet! What do you say, Kai? You up for it?"

"Whatever," I said. "Fine."

Before I left, I took one look out through the wide windows, but the sunset was over, and the air was pale again, fading to a deep, singed, bruise-colour at the edge of the sky, lightening to lilac at the apex. I was suddenly very cold.

HAH! Another almost-kiss! I love those, I really do. They're easier to write than actual kisses, which I still find difficult.This one was a little longer than the one in Chapter Three though, and I liked it way better.

Look, I'm sorry about the Beybattle. It's a weird writing style, I know. I KNOW! It's left over from my days as a (coughs) poet, which are now well and truly over. You can only write so many haikus about depression. I tried to make up for the truly zoned-out nature of the battle with all the huggling, but I still don't know if it worked. If right about now you're going "OK…small question…yeah, um, just what the hell is she ON?", then I can't blame you. I'm not expecting much response to this, I'm really not. The next chapter is done, and, being in Tyson's PoV, was easier to write, and is a LOT better…plus, they finally kiss! No lie!

Also...no ReiMax. Sorry. I can't write serious fics with multiple pairings. No multi-tasking for me. Plus, as I've recently decided, I prefer ReiMariah to ReiMax. Blame my sister.Don't ask, just blame her.

Oh, and the sunset? Of COURSE I put a sunset in. It's, like, this motif thing for TyKa. They met at sunset, Kai came back at sunset (Episode 48 – every fangirl's dream come true!), and, symbolically speaking, sunset is obviously the union of fire and air. Even my sister agrees with me - for once. I just had to have something sweet and romantic at sunset. It's TyKa tradition!

…or not.

You know, I really, really like getting reviews… (innocently points to large neon sign saying REVIEW NOW!