Author's Note: This has nothing to do with Rainbow-Winged Phoenix's stories, Together Forever, or its sequel Glass House. I just wanted to do this for fun, and make my cybersis smile.

I hope everyone is staying safe in this trying time, I'm trying to, but this whole thing is trying many of us harder than we thought it would, thus not having much time to write.

Much love to you all! Enjoy! ^^

The Choice

Beyblade

Chapter One: The Part That's Holding On

"They say life is full of choices, but what if you don't make those choices? What if, by some unseen force, those choices are made for you? When we have no say, all we can do is-"

My numb, bleak mind tunes out the preacher stood beside me. No offense to him but it happens. Add to it that I've heard in a roundabout way this same spiel for a week and a day now, and along with the seemingly endless slew of comforting hugs and somber 'I'm sorrys,' it's getting old. I know all involved mean well. I can't fault them for not knowing what to say or do because I would be at a loss too. Still, though I'm grateful beyond words, all I'm doing is running in a loop. Right now I think the walls of the mental trench I've made from the repetitive tracks are so high that I'm trapped with no way out.

Amidst the chilling wails of my week old infant, I crash back down into myself, only to look ahead and see the pallbearers, my old teammates, shoveling dirt down onto the cream colored casket in the deep hole below.

"Shhh." I softly coo, rocking the babe a few times.

Before I can say a word more, the swaddled mass is taken from me by Tyson's wife Hilary. In its place, my hand is filled with fistfuls of dirt, the earthy smell making me want to sob. This wasn't supposed to happen!

I stand there for a minute, unmoving. With the fall of Autumn's leaves and an encouraging, gentle breeze from Mother Nature herself, I finally empty my hands, the soil trickling down as if it were my tears.

After a few minutes, the now sleeping bundle is gifted back to me. I wordlessly take it back, but I don't want to.

In the coming days I'm sat at home, in a house my late grandfather owned but now it's mine I guess. Yippie.

I'm working from my office. The baby doesn't cry much, only when he needs something. So there's a plus in this massive mess, I guess.

Yeah, I should probably fill you all in on things. I'm bad for not doing that. My name is, Kai Hiwatari, and I'm thirty-years-old. I dated someone for a few years, lost them to childbirth, and at the moment I'm raising a child a big part of me doesn't even want anymore. My therapist says I should openly talk about her, because that will make things smoother in the long run. Fuck it, he'll find out who she is or he won't. That's not my problem, not really. Yeah, the bitch and I had a bouncing bastard boy, isn't that fun.

After sending another email to my secretary, I knock back the rest of my long-necked bottle, and then dump it into the bin beneath my desk. Damn, I've only had two out of my five-a-day and I'm not even tipsy yet. Guess I should be hitting the harder stuff instead.

Six months into this hell so many people around me call wonderful, I ended up naming the boy, Gou Alexander Hiwatari. I came across his first name in some old work files and the kid liked it. Alexander is my middle name, and why stop tradition? Gou... It's an odd name if you ask me but who am I to judge what people name their little shits?

At the end of another long, hard day, I flop limply into my way too big bed. The one called Gou crawls, curling up peacefully next to me. Hmph, despite my horrible stench, this kid just will not leave me be, will he? As I relax into the clouds we call pillows, something moves down my cheeks. But I soon bury it, along with my face, in the bedding beneath us. There, I sob quietly, praying that this sweet boy doesn't pick up on my heartbreak.