Prequel
Disclaimer: Don't own. Will never own. Story is mine and mine alone.
Note: There are some elements/situations in the story that border on the AU, so don;t freak out if things are slightly different to the anime.
All things have to come to an end, whether good or bad, and it is often that these things are let go of with the most reluctance. It is a part of human nature that often expresses discomfort and loss, fear and aggression, hope and acceptance at the inevitability of change. Comfortable and secure in the now, change is a thing that most people prefer to stay clear of, while others welcome it.
Change was a key part in the story of one beyblader, and while some of it was for good, it could be said that much if not all the changes that occurred held little joy or peace. It was change that destroyed, killed and acted as a catalyst for conflict between allies, families and friends.
It was a normal sunny afternoon, children just dispersing from the school grounds as they rushed off to more exciting things. A boy, or rather, a young man was amongst them, although by the looks of him he was not in a very happy mood. His face was set in a frown, his shoulders slumping more than usual as if it was more than a bag full of books he was carrying on his back. Perhaps it was just the Monday blues, but anyone who knew this boy would have told you that his behaviour was all together strange.
However as it was, little attention was paid to him as he walked down the streets, heading to what he called home, the dojo. Slipping off his shoes before entering, Tyson sneaked to his room, hoping that he would avoid the attention of his eccentric grandfather. He loved the man, but really, he was in no mood to deal with him today.
As he plopped down on his bed and stared up at the ceiling, Tyson couldn't help but admit, even to himself, that he was a little depressed. Just recently he had survived a battle that had taken more out of him than any had ever before. He had survived, and came out victorious. However, that victory had started a change that Tyson did not feel ready for. The battle had caused a near invisible rift between Tyson and the others. There was no reason for this rift, apart from the exhaustion that had taken over him since then.
Yes, perhaps he wasn't so cheerful any more, but he was still recovering after all from a mental and physical war. However, Tyson knew that that was his last beyblade battle ever, his last victory. Now he was living a normal life, school in the mornings, kendo practice after school, homework and then bed. It was a boring life when compared to the last couple of years, but what else did he have? His former teammates had returned to their respective countries, promising to keep in touch. However as such things often do, contact was lost, and Tyson could confess that he knew nothing of their current situations.
His friends had returned to normal life as well, Kenny having been accepted into a prestigious new school due to his high intelligence quotient. Hilary moved away with her parents to a destination Tyson hadn't bothered to make note of. All he cared about was the fact that in the short space of three months, his whole life had returned to a point in the past before he acquired Dragoon as his bit beast, when he was still a nameless face in the crowd, an ordinary guy. As he reminisced about the not too distant past, his mind slowly drifted into sleep.
For some time now, Tyson's dreams have been filled with scenes from his last battle with Brooklyn. Each time he would wake up sweaty, and more exhausted than when he went to bed. Why the memory continued to pester him, he didn't know. Perhaps it was a side-effect that would fade eventually as he regained the energy and stamina he had lost. What plagued him also was the memory of his brother. He had not seen Hiro since after that day, had not heard from him. Just like the old times.
When the incessant whining of his alarm clock finally managed to break through the fog in his mind, Tyson groaned, feeling too tired to get up. His limbs felt heavy and when he finally managed to open his eyes he found that he had slept in his school uniform. Getting out of bed was almost too hard a task, his tired body not really registering his brain's commands.
Tuesday. Damn. It was only the start of the week and already he was in need of a weekend. With a groan he managed to right himself, and started on his morning routine starting with a shower and ending with breakfast. Unfortunately breakfast had to be skipped in favour of being at school on time. Tyson was not a punctual guy, but his home-room teacher was enough of a monster for him to make an effort. With an empty stomach Tyson began his daily walk to school, with only his memories as company.
Wrapped up in memories, Tyon failed to pay attention to his surroundings. It was hardly noticeable really. It was just an old man with a walking stick in hand that trailed after the oblivious dragon. The man did not look lost, nor was he looking much of anything. An old man out for a stroll, not a strange sight at all. He looked normal, dressed normal and acted normal. Who could have guessed?
It was at a particular stretch of road, where houses were few and far in between, run down and generally empty that Tyson was made known of the old man's presence. It was a rather rude wake-up call as well, even though he fell unconscious only a moment later, the old hand still held over his mouth, the cloth keeping fresh clean air from entering his lungs.
It was a kidnapping that was rather cliché, but if it works, why bother to devise some other wicked plan? As it was, Tyson was thrown into the back seat of a car, blissfully unaware of the changes that awaited him at the car's destination. He remained unaware through the whole trip and longer, dead to the world and it's cruel promises.
It would be later that night that the first questions of his whereabouts were to be asked by his grandfather. By then it would be too late off course, but who would really miss him but the old man who raised him. It really was shame though, because his grandfather never did find Tyson, his grandson and friendly companion. He was old after all, and so had little to enjoy about life, having lost his wife and being estranged from his son.
He died a year after Tyson's disappearance, an old warrior defeated by age. It was also during this time that another discovered the dragon's disappearance, only the explanations varied and none would be confirmed for some time. Hiro, who inherited his grandfather's dojo, had thought at first that Tyson had left to grieve for a little while, or that he was on a trip or holiday or something of that sort. He learned differently from the neighbourhood who often prided themselves in knowing everybody else's business. What could be done? Tyson was dead and lost.
The changes had been made and things were changing still, as Tyson found when he did wake after being so rudely kidnapped, and he was helpless to it all. Weak at the hands of marble faces and glass eyes. His would be the first big change, and painful it would be. Like a pet sold to a new owner, Tyson lost the ability to take his life into his own hands and was subjected to the rules of a new life.
A/N: The story really begins from here on, so it should get more interesting. There will be no pairings in this fic, so no romance or anything of the sort. Also OOC and AU elements may occur in the story, I can almost guarantee it.