A/N: I'm posting this in a hurry after a work meeting, so I apologize in advance if there's anything wonky about it that I missed. Long day today and I don't want to leave it until later tonight. To everyone who's reviewed: thank you so much - I'll reply tonight. :)

Day 10 | Zeo and Tyson | Rated: K

Song

Tyson fiddled with his tie as the lights dimmed. He was nervous for a reason he couldn't put a finger on. He kept his eyes glued to the stage as the curtains opened and wiped his sweaty palms on the soft velvet of the theater seating.

A spotlight turned on and illuminated the sole figure walking across the stage. His hair was shorter than when Tyson had seen him last, but other than that, Zeo looked exactly the same as the boy he'd made fast friends with half a decade ago.

Maybe something in his eyes was different? As they scanned the crowd, there was some quality to them that he didn't recognize. Could a robot change like that? Zeo had always been so human, that Tyson wanted to say he could, but was it possible?

In a lot of ways, Zeo defied what was possible, even before his secret was out. Few friends were as loyal as he was, or had as much heart. He'd even written Tyson a letter when the Bladebreakers split up, telling him he would 'blade by his side if he could. Tyson would have loved that, but unfortunately, the BBA's hands were tied; they couldn't let a robot compete.

The crowd gave a collective sigh when Zeo tucked his violin under his chin and began to play.

Tyson's chest swelled with feeling. The happy melody made him want to cry. Something about it was nostalgic and mournful all at once, like the sight of Zeo on stage, forever immortalized as a thirteen year-old.

Around him the crowd was divided. Some people were watching in awe of what Zeo could do. They wouldn't care if he was an alien as long as there was music to enjoy. And others were amazed that a robot could be programmed to perform in such a humanoid manner. Lifelike, they whispered.

Tyson scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve.

Zeo had more life in him, was more human, than anyone he knew.

When he looked back up, Zeo was staring straight at him, though he shouldn't have been able to see him past the stage lighting. They locked eyes and he wasn't a face in the crowd anymore. The tune of the song changed, melted away. It was the two of them in Zeo's parlor and Zeo was playing him a new song.

Zeo's last notes reverberated up and out to the high ceilings and every corner of the room. It sounded hopeful and triumphant, like bells ringing in the distance or the crescendo at the climax of a movie. Tyson applauded him as he lowered his violin.

"Dude, that was awesome! I had no clue you were so good!"

"Well, since I can't beyblade anymore," Zeo replied wryly, glancing up at Tyson from under his eyelashes as he lowered the instrument back into its case, "I figured it was time for a new hobby."

"Who says you can't beyblade?" he asked, wrinkling his nose at the bitterness tainting Zeo's normally cheerful voice. "We can battle right now if you want! Me and Dragoon versus you and Cerberus – just like old times!"

"It's not a good idea, Tyson," he said morosely. The locks on the case clicked shut.

"Oh c'mon, why not? It'll be fine, just–"

"I said it's not a good idea!" Zeo shouted shrilly, sounding like he was in pain. The lights flickered and his eyes widened in horror. "No no no," he mumbled, dropping his head into his hands and forcing himself to take deep breaths. There was static at his fingertips and Tyson was momentarily afraid he was going to fry his own circuits, but then everything returned to normal.

"Are you okay?" he asked. His hands were raised, poised to pull Zeo's away even if it meant shocking himself. "Zeo?"

"That's why I can't," his friend replied with a shrug. He looked at Tyson with a face full of sad acceptance, and crossed the room to pour himself a glass of water from a decanter. He drank it all in one gulp and then poured another one to hold.

Tyson wondered if it even did anything for him. Presumably he knew it was cold and wet, but did Zeo even need hydrating? He felt guilty for even thinking such a thing.

"I always hated my violin lessons," Zeo revealed, pushing Tyson's thoughts to the back burner, for which he was grateful. "I'd have chosen beyblading over the violin any day. I skipped lessons to come practice with you sometimes."

He smiled at Tyson and Tyson smiled back.

"It's only right – no one gets to miss practice. Especially the newbie," Tyson said, trying to lighten the mood.

"This newbie almost destroyed you and your friends," Zeo said matter-of-factly. When Tyson tried arguing with him, he spoke over him and said, "I don't have control over my emotions anymore, and they're a lot less harmful coming out in a song than in a beyblade battle. Do you understand, Tyson?"

Back in the present that song from years back started playing from the stage. Zeo's eyes swept the crowd just enough to keep them engaged with his performance, but they always landed back on Tyson's. That same hopeful crescendo filled the auditorium and brought the crowd to its feet for Zeo's bow.

Tyson was glad he hadn't asked any of his friends to come with him. They wouldn't have understood why he had tears running down his face, dripping onto his collar during the standing ovation. They wouldn't have heard Zeo's message through the music.

I'm okay. I'm happy. This is how it has to be.

A/N: Zeo being a robot breaks my heart. Don't get me wrong, his original story does too, but at least that is something he could work through with some good therapy or something. Once a robot, always a robot. It would be awful to see your friends grow up around you like that. And it would be awful having a friend you know you're gonna outgrow (for lack of a better word) and leave behind one day. Gives me all the feels.

Thanks for reading!