Title: Living
Author: Winter Ashby (rosweldrmr)
Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade and I'm not affiliated with Takao Aoki-sama in anyway. (I haven't even seen the show!) I don't own Beyblade or the characters, I just mess with them.
Rating: K+
Summary: Kai's life in the wake of passing years and the unlikely companionship that grew from the shadow of her former self and his looming past. But is it enough to bind two lonely souls together? Kai & Hilary
Authors Notes:
I wrote this for a friend of mine. (SE, you are brilliant. I was going to post this on my other phantom account and have you look for it, but I though I'd give you a break and post it up here. I'll have you know I'm ruining my Naruto streak for you. As well as putting my InuYasha fics on hold for this! Think of this as a belatted birthday present.)

I've never actually seen an episode of Beyblade, but I did some research for this, so hopefully it will make sense. It takes place sometime in the future, after the series ends. So they are older, but exactly how old, I will leave up to the imagination. I have also done my best to weave the Manga and Anime, because I got this idea when I was talking to said friend from the last chapter of the manga. The Beyblader's Next Generation of sorts.

I also have chosen to use the original Japanese names instead of the dubbed ones, sorry but even if I've never seen an episode, I can assure you with absolute certainty that the original Japanese is far better. Tachibana Hiromi is Hilary Tatibana (because Japanese surnames comes first) and well, Hiwatari Kai is Kai Hiwatari (Duh). Gou (means strength) is Kai's son in the manga, but seeing as how Hilary is an anime character ONLY and is not in the manga, Kai's son's mother is a big mystery. So this is my answer to that conundrum. Kinomiya Takao is Tyson Granger (I'm still trying to figure out how that one worked) and Kinomiya Makoto is his mystery son in the manga. (It is unknown who his mother is too.)

Okay, I think that is enough information to get you through this modest fic, but there will be some more notes at the end of it for further clarification. I hope everyone enjoys this, even if it is an unconventional pairing, forgive me and give this a try.

She was alone when he found her, alone in her stately vigil for unity and teamwork. She was alone in her unrequited love and undeserved fate. So he took her home like she was a stray cat, and let her cook for him. Because deep in the back of his foggy memory, he recalled that she could and he was far to dis-concerned to try. She took gentle care and seeming un-phased joy in following a faithful five steps behind him as he walked through the halls of his home, bought with championship money and perpetual second place. He hated her, because she brings with her subtle touches and swollen eyes, the mounting fear that the future could always stir deep in his phoenix soul. But she is no phoenix, she is no champion, she is no one to him. Except the one person that the night seems to scream for, and he is finally quieted in her arms.

She is like a drug he can't escape and her tears only fuel the need that grows in his chest. He can feel it now, that same desire for power claw at his chest and push forward to eat his soul away, bit by bit. But he is proud and oh so Russian. So he will hate and torment until her bloody tears fall for him and he is able taste the salt on her lips as he kisses her – because he knows he can. He contemplated what it would be like to love her, to allow himself to look deep into her ruby eyes and bruised soul and really let all their history fade away until all that was left was a man and woman seeking for the same kind of desperate completion. Maybe he already did, he could never really be sure. And she bore him a son, because she was grateful and perfectly equipped to. And he took great pride in the strength his son could wield and thus named him so: Gou.

Tachibana Hiromi

Her name loomed, like the shadow of a life he never really wanted in the wake of betrayal and utter destitute that being used often carries. He should fear her and the power her eyes have over him. But his deep purple orbs vex in frustration, and mutate to mirror hers in a muted kind of burning flame. He looks in the mirror, with nothing but the bedroom light seeping under the door to illuminate his view of his newly crimson eyes and blood-shot hatred. His soul burns because that is the fate both his name and ancient, inherited bit-beast create for him. And everything about him screams passion, and heat which he often blames for her uncharacteristic interest in him. But if he still knew how to be truthful to himself, he would be willing to admit that there was always a part of her that was drawn to him; but he is stubborn, so he turns from this turn and wanders in the 'mystery' that she elicits.

In her age, she grew quiet and strong as the son she gave him. Not for the battles or the spiritual bit-beasts, but in will and never-ending acceptance of the shortcomings of everyone who surrounds her. But he also knows that she takes silent pride in the reaction she can incite in him. So he breathes heavily when she pushes her chest against his and whispers her supplications in his ear. She has grown bold, and so very desirable that he can barely contain the heat that wells in his gut and forces downward. He looks at her then, with emerging red eyes and burgeoning need. She can see it to, the power she has. He likes the idea that she enjoys power just as much as he always did. But as his great stockpile of power wanes in his later years as a businessman, hers grows in their tentative shared bedroom and joint home.

If he still cared for his long estranged teammate and forlorn rival he would give the thought of expelling her and all the problems her pink lips and ruby eyes brought with them less gravity. But she is quiet in his presence, and soothing in the most secretive parts of his world. He wonders why he never tasted her before she was broken, and imagines that she might have tasted sweet then. But as it is, she is bitter and he always clings to her sweet honey cakes in the mornings. Her arms are too familiar; her voice is too engrained in his mind for him to be whole without her. So he gathers her in his arms, this one last time and tells her to leave when the sun greets them.

She obliges, wordlessly, but the tears that mar her face and draw him to her are so very enticing that he can't help but taste her bitter mouth one last time as the sun rises on his shattered resolve and her ever-increasing power. There is an ominous cloud that hovers just above his multi-coloured head, and grazed over the corners of his fingers. But there was nothing more to be gained from the faint, hollow look that filled her sullen eyes and broken heart. Because he put it there. He is the cause of her relentless tears, and he blames himself because it is right to do so. He knew from the beginning that her bubbly predisposition and fading love for her eternal rival would only swell and build until eventually it all came crashing down. With one look, one kiss, his useless yearning ferments in her broken smile that echoes through the devastating blackness in his mind.

Yes. He thinks. It wouldn't be so hard to hate her.

But instead he takes her to bed and lays her down beside him. She is dwarfed by his muscular frame and monstrous baggage. Her chocolate brown hair and swollen ruby eyes glow in the morning sun under the reflection of his black and dark blue hair and similar crimson eyes. He is a burning phoenix and she is the shell left behind in the dwindling years of adolescence she morphed into. She is no longer the girl he remembered accepting as a member of his team, or risking his life to protect. But instead, she was wholly new in his arms, and renewed in his abandonment. Their son's tournament looms shallow in the distance days to come, and sweet pillow talk that never really existed explodes into accusing glances and putrid anticipation of fruition. He will never admit it, but he fears the reunion because he knows with frightening certainty that he can't live without her now.

He almost asked her then why she was alone when he found her. But at his son's competition, he hears the name "Kinomiya Makoto" as it reverberates through the stadium and sees the haunted look that fills her face and he understands. This boy who is a scan few years older than his own son is the answer to the question he was too scared to ask. And he is the spitting image of his father.

Kai can feel the bile rise in his throat, because even if he is a tired businessman, pestered by the obligations of the office, he will always desire first place. He recalls distant memories of swirling stars on a seemly distant planet and the bond that led him to it. But this is another life, one that was left behind in the years of isolation and self-imposed regret he suffered. And now, as he watches her watch him, he is sure that he always wanted her. He is just as bitter as his wife because Takao stole his chance for sweet kisses and he can still her murmuring his name through the paper thin walls the first nights she stayed in his house.

"Takao."

It took every last ounce of self-preservation to keep himself from tearing through those sliders and shaking the memory of her foolish crush from her mind. But her tiny hand finds his on the sidelines as a ghost from their past re-emerges. He shakes his head with a sad, knowing smile threatening to streak his features a shade of humanity he is unwilling to acquiesce to.

Her and her useless, unwavering devotion to unity.

His thought is almost enough to make the corners of his jaded lips curl slightly, because she is warm and he knows that tonight he will take her home and lay her in their bed and taste her bitter lips because she is his. So he challenges his old rival to unfinished business as his wife watches on, affection shinning scarlet eyes and it occurs to him then that he might be genuinely happy.

Hiwatari Kai is happy.

It's only taken decades of persistent failure and nearly forced companionship for him to finally see why she looks at him like that when they are all alone on dark nights in their bedroom. But he will look at her tonight with his own scarlet eyes, because that is the gift she gave him, irregardless of intentions. She gave him this tendril of hope that swings from the metronome in his chest that this day resembles a battered and repaired heart. And he can almost picture her in the dead calm of his pre-fight moments with a bottle of superglue and that distant mischievous glint of scheming optimism teeming in her eyes that he can recall so clearly from their youth as she stands over a chibi version of himself, clutching his poorly mended heart. He does smile then, because it is right to do so.

She would be so proud. I'd never hear the end of it…

He cringes and launches into yet another fight that he knows well enough will never end to his satisfaction. But this time he carries the absolute affirmation that he will find sweet consolation in warm arms and soft lips tonight.

Foot Notes:

The whole thing about the colour of Kai's eyes is there just for my friend, because we have had extensive discussions about the colour of his eyes and their seemingly mysterious ability to change colour. I also liked the idea of them sharing red eyes, which would explain why Gou has red eyes in the manga. (This is a common theory for those Kai/Hilary lovers out there.)

And the whole last scene of this fic is taken from the last chapter of the manga where you see the next generations of beybladers. The series ends with Tyson and Kai facing off, just like they did when they were younger – this is just my spin on the missing years in-between. Hense where I get the idea that Kai is a businessman – because he is in the manga. And why he hasn't seen Tyson in what seems like some time. It also seems all Kai's former teammates are shocked to see that he has a son. Can you say seclusion? Yay!

Finally, the line about Kai being "pestered by the obligations of the office" comes from this chapter when he is seen being chased by his underlings asking him to return to the office, but he says he has better things to do (his rematch with Tyson).

Oh my gosh – did you see it? The… the… :gulp: FLUFF? Oh well, I tried my best. You win some, you lose some. I gave into my happier muses tonight and indulged in a little, only slightly less angsty plot bunnies. I hope it worked out okay. It is a one-shot, there will be no more follow-ups just wanted to do something for a friend. Let me know what you think…

-Ash