Chapter Three: Flight or Fight

The knocks were nothing – awaiting no reply, needing none, mere habitual politeness. Thus, it was no surprise to either of the fighters present that the door swung smoothly inwards the moment they had ceased. Kai had, for most of his life, worked towards expecting nothing, weary with scorning himself for the same weakness Garland had recently displayed by being caught off guard; and yet, he could not have said that he expected what appeared in that sunny frame, one of its hands casually fingering the doorknob, the other gingerly enclosing a recently acquired spray of lavender. For the phoenix bearer in question, world-shaking surprise characterized itself as a deafening, white-noise buzz in his ears.

It prevented him from hearing, let alone understanding, the soothing (warning) things that Garland apparently said – "Now, Kai…" – though some alert section of his brain registered slowly moving lips in the mirror's reflection at his sight's periphery. He did not care what the C-Bolt siblings had to say just then (neither had it escaped the young Hiwitari's cultivated attention that the blonde, the sister, Kylie, was sliding uneasily past the other frozen visitor, the antagonist, the monster, with a pensive expression twisting her pretty-in-passing face and just the right amount of sweat and flush about her person to make it clear she'd been exerting herself, maybe come to oversee the proceedings – "Um, Garland..?"), in favor of caring about the burning little animal that had been sleeping somewhere between his stomach and throat until that very moment, when it had stirred, decided to open its great mouth, and begun to buzz.

The aforementioned alert section of Kai Hiwitari's brain was having a good time of observing what the other part was doing, well aware that it would be overtaken by some throw of passion or other in short order and wishing to get as much objective information in as little time as possible for the purpose of later analysis at a more agreeable opportunity – for now, as in fights, his primary functions would recede to the instinctual level. That was generally how the teenager's head worked, when his self-control and nerve were abruptly put under incredible stress. Not many adults would have known how they acted in such situations… and here was Kai, already an expert by necessity and through experience. Lucky him.

Garland stared across at his sister for a brief moment, and, understanding the wordless signal that he'd most definitely be needing backup, she sidled through the doorway, rigid with worry but sharp-eyed and tight-jawed in a kind of undeniable grace. Kylie positioned her thin, powerfully present form half-between the two boys that were causing such silent chaos, ready to become a bodyguard if there was a need. At the same time her little brother was shifting quietly into position behind the stalk-still blader he had recently been tangled on the floor with, making himself ready to lock Kai in a full-Nelson or knock him off his feet again. Anything, to prevent the kind of physical upheaval the tense air told him was probably coming.

The singularly secretive process took no more than a breath's-time to accomplish, in which Garland continued saying unintelligible, comforting things that none but his sister comprehended, as though whispering into the face of a wild-eyed horse, full of the grim knowledge that he could be thoroughly trampled at any time. His words were addressed to Kai – who gave him absolutely no indication that they were having any effect, remaining as stony-faced and narrow-eyed as the second the door had swung innocently inwards – rather because he couldn't think of a single thing to remedy the manner of the young man that had so unwittingly caused the scene; shock and stirring rage, at least, were things he could fathom. However, it seemed not to be working: if anything, Kai's lasting opportunity to mull over the situation uninterrupted served to intensify his more undesirable reactions…

Garland thought, watching the boy's suddenly authoritative profile in the mirror, the back of his proud head and tense shoulders, and the faces of the two others in rapid turn, that his guest was running out of things to decide before settling on a murderous launch towards the doorway. He doubted his older sister would stand much of an obstacle, though she looked as stubborn and defiant as he might have hoped – Kai was, unfortunately, oblivious to such things as "powerfully present" acquaintances at the time, and the youngest C-Bolt beyblader doubted the extent of his chivalry.

"Sorry about this, Gar, he was just kind of walking in – I only remembered it might be a problem half a second ago, so, you know…"

"Don't worry about it; watching over Brooklyn is not your responsibility, it's mine. Kai? You in there, man, haven't been knocked unconscious without me knowing, have you..? Snap out of it. Brooke, you alright?"

The tall, auburn-haired figure the gryphon bearer placed a gentle, but scrutinizing gaze upon at that moment did not reply immediately. His reaction was even more stunted than Kai's; he had tapped on the door, as usual, taken half a step inside, as usual, smiled gently, brightly as usual, soft cerulean gaze trailing about the room from ceiling downwards before zeroing in on his best friend, flickering once again to the out-of-place pile of dark clothing and scarf, widening by steady fractions as it followed an extra shadow on the mat to pale, bare feet, flashing with something imperceptible as it slowly absorbed the sight of an attached body, and landing, with an obvious, tiny jerk of his head on the deepening stare of a confounding figure that had played a prominent role in his more troubled dreams as of late. Brooklyn's expression, calm simper and all, as well as his entirely languid stance, had utterly frozen, though his skin appeared to be quickly draining of pigment; the only movement was in his eyes.

These twitched, rapid-fire back and forth between both of Kai's, as though hoping to identify some kind of incongruence in the drawn, continually intensifying stare turned glare he was on the receiving end of, and then, unable to find any, progressed to imploring glances at Garland. When he spoke, his voice was, from an outside perspective, quite normal (it caused Kai's probing look to narrow even further, now slit-like), but his proclaimed best friend and protector knew better… there was an undeniably pinched quality to it that one with a trained ear could register, the overall effect one of somebody that had just walked in on a surprise they hadn't been expecting and were somewhat horrified by – how accurate.

"Can you see him?" the genius of the former BEGA league earnestly questioned, leveling an eye on the phoenix bearer, head jerking slightly once more. The fact that Garland had been speaking with the shortest boy present, which might have alluded that, yes, he could see him – was lost on Brooklyn in the same fashion that the words in the first place were lost on Kai.

It felt quite distinctly to Brooklyn as though the floor had fallen out from beneath him. He was at least breathing steadily… so far, and ridiculously thankful that Kylie was acting as a living barrier between him and that – that – Brooklyn wanted nothing more than to learn that he was seeing things. Perhaps sleepwalking. Perhaps sleeping altogether – he had a penchant for dozing off out on the grounds, and it would have been completely agreeable if he happened to awake somewhere on them now and have to meander back to the house all over again. This would prove a silly dream, really. Not even one of his worst. Then, should this be a dream, it would mean his medication was working nicely, wouldn't it? Just because Kai was standing in Garland's most-personal-of-spaces as though he'd actually been invited there, as though they'd really been having quite a bit of fun… When he'd entered, for half a moment, he could have sworn Garland was smiling ruefully. Smiling. He'd not be telling Garland about this dream in particular – it was simply too far-fetched.

The C-Bolt boy then did something impulsive, determined to crack this unbearable tension while it was premature before it exploded all by itself. He clapped a hand soundly on Kai's left shoulder. Brooklyn appeared to sink backwards, clutching onto the doorknob with new desperation, made to accept that Kai was, in fact, corporeal, Kylie half-turning in a swirl of long hair and with a tiny sound of dismay to grab him around the arms before he fully collapsed, and Kai… Kai seized Garland's wrist, that nearest his shoulder, with a vice-like right hand and fluidly swung him foreword, twisting the gryphon bearer's adjoined arm behind his back with enough force to loudly pop the shoulder. There Kai held Apollon's owner stationary, the victim's teeth gritted in pain, watching with a wild mixture of the disgust and fury waging war behind his garnet eyes as Kylie struggled to restrain a violently shifting Brooklyn, who was apparently torn between obeying his terror through flight – or acting upon his possessiveness through fight.

"Garland! What in the hell were you thinking! Eyaah – Brooke, Brooklyn, calm down!" the second youngest heir of the C-Bolt legacy loudly growled, casting her brother, in no position to lend her a hand, a completely withering stare that Kai's better side approved of, her visage now flushed beyond the excuse of the sport she'd been practicing before noting her red-head housemate strolling back to the house. Brooklyn had finally proved receptive to her demands, however, and reduced his flailing to a light, but unending full-body spasm, somehow now pinned against the hallway wall across from the open gray door by Kylie's insistent arms and one of her knees, emitting a low, quavering noise deep in his throat that spoke of a great deal of badly contained panic.

"Kai, let go of me," Garland angrily commanded, glaring back over his shoulder at the younger teenager as best he could, a cold sweat renewed along his brow, one itchy line dripping past his nose. Again, there was no instant reaction to his words; he could not be certain that there would be one. Garland was attempting to exercise a degree of control he possessed over his teammates, had had over underlings in BEGA – but had never, never enjoyed over Kai. It seemed to him that the Hiwitari had some kind of intense loathing for being controlled… for reasons that would have to be gotten out of Tyson someday, if anywhere. Therefore, Garland had a few choices. He could both rip himself free and risk a serious fight with Kai – which he was not at all in the mood for making Brooklyn and Kylie witness, and would probably do lasting damage to their relationship – or appeal to a merciful nature he was not certain existed. Well… that conclusion might have been harsh, seeing as his judgment was skewed by the current state of affairs.

Either way, Garland did not plead. He requested. "Kai, I would like to help my sister," here his breath hitched involuntarily as the phoenix blader tightened his grip, "so can you please..?"

The Hiwitari, feeling suddenly out of his element and as though he was intruding into some kind of family dispute in which he really had no place, considered it. Finally, he complied (once certain that Garland's arm had to be cramping quite badly), and planted a shoving kick in the small of the C-Bolt blader's back while letting go of him. Truthfully, he did not think that if he made the young man too mad, he would actually explain just-what-in-the-hell he'd been thinking, and Kai certainly wanted to know. Garland stumbled ahead, regaining his balance and rubbing his shoulder as he went, muttering some grudging thanks to Kai that was entirely undeserved.

The oldest, now freed, blader present kneeled in the doorframe, legs still hurting, and murmured in an undertone that Suzaku's guardian nevertheless keenly noted (the buzz had subsided as shock and the nausea of betrayal were overcome by the clarifying light of unadulterated rage), "I'm sorry, Kylie, you've got to know this isn't how I – I wouldn't… Brooklyn, hey… Brooklyn?" There was a pause punctured just by heavy breathing, and though Kai could not see it, Garland was considering the tear-glazed stare of his charge, who'd ceased moaning, mouth instead shut tight and trembling, body shaking with dry sobs. They had told Brooklyn he'd be safe in this house, with this family. Kai's friends had, strangely enough, assured him of just the same when he had expressed a small disinclination to leave his room, all those months ago, before the phoenix had returned to him. "Ky, I'm going to take him. Can you do me a favor? Uh, keep… keep Kai from leaving just yet, please? Don't look at me like that, sis. Brooke, let's get up, its fine now, you'll see."

Garland hoisted his eerily limp friend to his unsteady feet, staggering away down the hall with him as quickly as possible, easily prioritizing the aftermath of this particular disaster; he did not bother casting his former sparring partner a second look. Kai's brutal glower followed their progress even after he could not see them, as though boring through the wall was a simple matter, only ceasing to move when he hit the corner of the room and was certain they were gone.

"Let's – go have a drink, okay?" the voice of the young lady of the house suggested (yet in that same hard tone she'd used when convincing a hysterical Brooklyn to be still); admirably steady after a couple of bracing clearing-of-the-throats. Deliberately, Kai moved his gaze to land with the weight of vast weariness and loftiness onto her sadly innocent presence. Because she had committed no crime (besides that of letting him in and instigating this mess), Kai could not in good conscience let the teetering bucket above the door that was his anger come raining down atop her impatient head. But oh, oh how he wanted it to rain onto somebody. Gathering a sick amount of pleasure from Kylie's uncomfortable, unconscious shift on her feet, unused as she was to his particularly potent brand of death-glares, and, at the same time, chastened by her endearing refusal to back down and leave him to his own devices, Kai slowly, very slowly, gave a curt nod of assent. If there was anything the world-famous beyblader was skilled at by now, it was conjuring up impressive amounts of senseless rage whenever he wanted to (he was almost as good at stifling them again), so, once Garland showed his idiot face, Kai would be ready for him – but for now, Kylie could be humored. That was, if she treaded very carefully.

Following the young woman as she strode down the side of the hall they had come up when he'd first entered (the opposite way her brother and surrogate-brother had gone, the Hiwitari noticed), Kai glanced at the floor, caught sight of Brooklyn's forgotten sprig of lavender, and ground it violently into dust with his bare heel.


Author's Notes:
Oh, the drama.

Garland really is a thoughtful little bugger, isn't he? And no, no, this is definitely not going to be a whole Kai and Kylie love affair – thing. I repeat: she is a plot device, a… objective figure, more or less, because God knows we need one.

This is pretty much as dense as my writing gets, so don't worry about progressively larger paragraphs. It appears to be what happens when I'm enjoying myself and aiming at a longer piece than just a – vignette, as originally intended. -cough-

My apologies for not showcasing too much of Brooklyn's usual personality – I was kind of on a roll with paying more attention to Kai, and Brooke is… strangely satisfying to write scared out of his mind. 'Sides, these wounds are still fresh.