Chapter Six, Part One: Collide and Collude

Garland wasted but a moment glancing away in order to assess the damage before his glower sought to recapture Kai's –he found it set stubbornly and smugly upon the scene the boy had caused. Not one to go ignored while in such a mood, the C-Bolt rammed the phoenix blader backwards against the counter, one hand clamping both of the young Hiwatari's together and the other holding him somewhat aloft by his throat. Apollon's bearer might have paused, had a second thought, worried for the outcome, but somewhere Kai had crossed a line. He'd spoken of tools to be used and monsters and the intentions of loving parents as though he was an authority. He was not an authority. Not on Brooklyn. And so the mercy plea expressed in the red-eyed boy's involuntary winces and gritted teeth and strained muscles and pulse beating adrenalin-wild against his captor's tight fingers fell on deaf ears. All those ears heard were the shocked and angered babblings of an older sister as she feverously picked bits of shattered glass out of copper hair.

For his part, Brooklyn wasn't making a sound, standing in the doorway with a kind of questioning, calm look about him – deeper still, an expression of cool satisfaction. His precognition might have diminished somewhat as of late, but he had retained enough to know where not to be (such as not in the middle of busy streets, the presence of obsessive genetic engineers, around when Ming Ming wanted to perform…), and was as pleased as usual that shifting three inches to his left had been all it took to prevent something sharp from introducing itself to his eye. Sure he was pleased, having just scored a small victory, rewarded by seeing the one and only Kai gasping for breath in his best friend's chokehold. His best friend that had betrayed him and was betraying him at that very moment. But his best friend nonetheless. It wasn't how he or Zeus would have dealt with the issue, but Garland's method was sufficient. A part of Brooklyn was squirming to be in the very same room as the troubling reality that had proven to be Kai Hiwatari, but it wasn't that part which had brought him to the kitchen – at the moment, that piteous part was irrelevant. He'd bask a second more in the triumph of a chain-reaction perfectly executed, because Kylie would run out of breath shortly, and then they'd find out the truth.

She had been using said breath from the time they had seen their guest still present onwards in an unending stream of impressive trilingual obscenities, warnings, and comforting, which finally culminated into the indignant words: "That almost hit Brooklyn – that almost hit me! Who does that? Who just throws dishes around? Garland, don't you dare kill him; you two are being such children. Brooke, Brooklyn, are you bleeding? I'm bleeding. My fucking hand is bleeding. No, don't you move, you have glass in your hair! And it's on the floor – I said don't move!" The no-nonsense, nobodies fool Brooklyn of the moment hadn't really been listening to the no-nonsense, nobodies fool Kylie, continuing to crunch across the floor until he was placed at the precise center of the kitchen: a better position from which to silently observe the hazing of his mortal enemy's usually oh-so-bright eyes. The sole blonde and female, absolutely furious with the disregard of everybody present, snarled, "Fine," and was done with holding her position. She strode across the room and violently spun the tap in the sink, throwing her wounded appendage into the stream of water, all the while casting a woeful stare at her sibling and Kai, hardly an arm's length away. "I swear, Garland, if he winds up dead…" Though desensitized by the antics of elder brothers, she'd never enjoyed fights breaking out in the kitchen.

As the gryphon-bearer attempted to objectively decide the next move (his arms were getting tired), watching the color leaving Kai's face with the same clinical disregard he'd employed in order to harm a strange, angry Russian boy, putting aside all empathetic and moral protestation, the Hiwatari was puzzling things over for himself from on high. Recognizing the smoothly closing window of opportunity for what it was, he decided to act immediately – he attacked. Kai slammed his knee (as bony as it had been when last mentioned) forcefully into the taller beyblader's abdomen. It was a difficult maneuver in such an effectively restrained, vulnerable position and not currently capable of doing much damage, but it had the desired effect: Garland startled and dropped him, stumbling back a pace or two. Kai, cornered, the mouse having bitten the cat, in turn fell and met the terrible marble edge beneath with his spine, raking his already bruised skin all the way to earth after a valiant attempt at remaining on foot.

His first sight was Brooklyn. Observations of Garland swimming out of focus, a wash of red darkening to black and then – Brooklyn. Kai lurched upwards again despite the protests of his every bone, lightening head, and turning stomach, aided only by the child-made resolution never to face a challenge on his knees and an uncommon degree of presently world-renowned stubbornness. Suzaku, Dranzer blade included, was righteously pissed – he could feel every bit of it emanating even from the phoenix's resting place in his jacket, left safely behind in the training room. He was pissed also. Unfortunately, that wasn't doing much to stifle a reflexive and absolutely embarrassing coughing fit. He'd forgotten what nearly being knocked out by oxygen deprivation was… like. Somebody he had no interest in dutifully steadied his strangely unbalanced form, and then tried to force yet another glass of something into his hand.

"Can I give this to you or will you throw it?" Kylie impetuously asked, sloshing the cup of water in front of Kai's face to catch some attention. He choked on another cough, willing it away in order to spare his whipped pride, and glanced hatefully in the girl's direction. She raised her eyebrows. He knit his. She sloshed. He snatched and swallowed a quick mouthful before thrusting the offending panacea back at her, simultaneously extricating his arm from her bracing grip and edging away. He would have liked to have thrown it. They'd clearly expected him to – they wouldn't be allowed the satisfaction of seeing him beaten by the emotions that he beat... Kai had himself trained. The rest of the world hadn't. He was not predictable. Or so he hoped – hadn't Brooklyn once told him otherwise? Brooklyn… The troublemaking outsider gazed across at the constant subject of his thoughts. Brooklyn had told him otherwise once. But Brooklyn was full of crap. He'd been proven wrong – the lot of them had been proven wrong.

"You bastard," Garland eventually, evenly stated, having more or less wrested his rage into a deadly undercurrent that resembled serenity, and gone to regroup at the god-bearer's side. Everybody in the room was profoundly irritated with one another for a variety of reasons (Brooklyn had disobeyed him, Kylie was acting like a nosy, amateur ambassador…), but he was most irritated with Kai. Kai was being a bastard. "What did you think you were doing? Do you even think? You can't… or you'd know it wouldn't have fixed anything – it hasn't. Has it made you happier? You want to murder him, Kai? Would that make you feel better about..? I can't even tell anymore… about losing to Brooklyn? That is your problem, isn't it?" It sounded more ridiculous than ever when said out loud. The youngest C-Bolt blew out a breath and smiled humorlessly.

"But he can't hurt me," BEGA's red-haired genius drawled, sounding shockingly untroubled, half-watching the frowning phoenix-bearer as he absently picked shining bits of glass off of his clothing. "I, however, could kill him." The observation earned a pair of matching, disturbed, quizzical looks from the siblings – Kai merely blinked. "Gar would hold you down if I asked – but I don't need him to. You'd be dead before you hit the floor. Before you even moved. I have Zeus right here. He'd be happy to… I bet you're missing that blade of yours – the demolished one. It got rebuilt, I can tell it did. And you're missing the little firebird. I know it's here, just not with you. It never occurred to you that you're not safe without it, ever, did it, Kai?" He paused, as though for effect, gazing placidly across what felt like miles of empty space at the bane of his existence and seeing his own decapitated corpse reflected back in the garnet irises. The side of him no longer in control, in fact left behind in the sitting room, perched worriedly in the easy chair, shuddering and wishing he'd trusted Garland to handle it on his own, as per request. The Brooklyn in the kitchen was enjoying every second of defiance. He'd defied the world and its quaint rules before – one protector's authority wasn't much of a stretch.

"I'm going to tell you a secret, Kai Hiwatari, and you might not want to hear it," the god-bearer continued, ceasing to remove glass so that he could quite blatantly draw Zeus' blade out of his pants pocket, the others staring on with bated breath (but for Kai, who was refusing to have his bodily reactions manipulated – he was not threatened, he was not threatened, dammit! – and breathed with contrived normalcy). "Even if you had Suzaku – it wouldn't be able to save you. I'm not like before. I'm not above killing you." Brooklyn looked around himself wonderingly and pointedly. "There's nobody holding me back now. I'm not above slaughtering your phoenix to get to you, and then who would it have to come back for? No, Kai, you're well aware that Suzaku wouldn't be able to do it again… You've been worried all this time that it was a fluke. You know even if the beast lived, it wouldn't keep coming back. Not to fight me. Not to die for you. I was there, you know, Kai." He shook his head, as if out of sympathy. "I saw what you had to sacrifice just to get your bird to push on – it wasn't very nice of you to force –"

"Brooklyn," Garland interrupted, shaking his head slightly in unvoiced disapproval. As much as the Hiwatari deserved a smack down, no good reason existed to drag his bit beast into it; there was no secret when it came to Kai's relationship with Suzaku. Whether or not the genius was correct when it came to the veteran blader's anxiety about it being in danger at any given moment was unimportant… Brooklyn would still have been threatening Kai's most valued friend and possession. It wasn't behavior Garland condoned, and only further evidence that the young man who'd promised to trust his judgment was no longer present. This was the side that trusted nobody and acted only out of self-defense, doing the most radical things in the name of survival, these days believing in the 'get them before they get you' philosophy – he and the team had been working to reform it into something slightly less… harmful. Kai's visit was obviously unraveling more than it was improving.

"Okay, Gar, I just have one more question for Kai, while he's being so good about everything," the cobalt-eyed teenager mildly pressed, beaming at his captain in brief, before the countenance warped to overacted solemnity. He waited, inhaling and exhaling loudly, watching the Hiwatari legacy, pressed as he was against the opposite side of the room like some sort of caged animal, bared teeth and raised hackles included, until the perfect moment – the breaking point of the room's tension. He knew it had come because Kylie was just opening her mouth to say something… However, as Brooklyn's voice overrode hers in a way it never so disrespectfully did, her mouth dropped open out of surprise instead. "How is Kuro Suzaku doing?" he asked.

Brooklyn mentally added another point to his scorecard when he saw his seething object of aversion go as white as a corpse beneath the visible bruises, eyes widening and shadowing, body appearing to go absolutely rigid. The terrified innocence within him perked up, apprehensive that the combination of a hated name uttered by a hated person (to whom it should never have been connected) really had distressed Kai to death. But Brooklyn had tasted blood – he wasn't about to let it go, not while his opponent was still standing; "I was just wondering. I was interested to meet that other phoenix of yours… since the beginning. Never got why you didn't just – go ahead and use it. I would have liked to see if you were any better. If you could have beaten me, maybe a little easier. Maybe without so many casualties. Maybe, oh, I don't know –couldn't you have spared Suzaku all that pain? I heard the dark beast was a force… At least that's what I heard. You never showed me anything to be afraid of." The young man broke off with a heavy sigh, guileless glance sliding across the deeply bewildered ones of Garland and his sister.

Kai supposed that he was going to be sick. He had no idea what to think, let alone say. There was some kind of a roadblock abruptly dropped in front of his latest musings, and they continually banged against it, bouncing back, replaying, hitting, bouncing, replaying… Brooklyn, who lazed about, playing with flowers and ladybugs, drowning people, burning them alive because he could, knew about Kuro Suzaku. The hardest memory (what's a memory called if it lives on in the present?) he had was in the hands of another person that he loathed, another person that would apparently use it against him – to hurt him, to make him relive all of… For the first time he noticed that the feeling of encountering BEGA's genius in his dreams was just like the feeling of encountering Kuro Suzaku. They were almost the same nightmare, but for the nature of Kai's dark beast, permeated with self-doubt, disgust, misery, weakness, and pain – fed by every instance of his basest urges to live in constant search of power; fed, but hungry. Brooklyn, whom he hated in a remote sort of way, knew about Kuro Suzaku, whom he hated. Differently, but both. Now they had access to one another… He'd fought so hard to keep that damned bird out of his head and finally, finally learned how to kill it in his nightmares – Brooklyn was the same enemy these days, playing the same part. Knowing one another, Kai knowing they knew, they'd be… stronger… reinforced. How would he ever sleep again?

Where had Brooklyn heard? No one should have suffered that abomination, that demon – it was a mistake that anyone ever had. One of Kai's greatest mistakes, letting the black phoenix touch human lives, letting it stake claim on his own for… forever. Letting it mark him. It was still in him, always there – the potential. His most rotten, disgusting, coldest – where he was dead, the place Kuro Suzaku dwelt, a part of his soul and a benefactor when it came to the lake beneath the ashes. He knew the others didn't deal with his kind of phantasms – didn't toss and turn or silently scream, but they'd been exposed to the monster through him, the monster in him, the thing that was him and would always be him. If he could have changed the past, he would have taken the icy touch of the great bird out of their recollections. They didn't deserve it or need it, they shouldn't have known a thing, but he'd been cruel and dragged them in. He'd been crueler than necessary because of Kuro Suzaku whispering in his ear. It still whispered. All Kai could do was prevent it from muttering to them as well – he had to make them deaf. He had to make them believe it didn't matter anymore; if you don't think about something it doesn't exist, it loses all its power over you. The Hiwatari had been in denial for most of his life, hadn't he? Forgetting all of it? He'd do anything to keep them out of Kuro's reach, now and forever. If need be, the behemoth could eat him alive in exchange. But… it turned out that not even God could change the past.

Where had he heard? The roadblock slipped and it became an easy question; the answer was Boris. Wasn't it always Boris? Just something he'd do on a whim, handing silver bullets to the enemies of the lone wolf; there was no mistaking that he'd passionately hated the returning blader and been keenly interested in engineering his downfall. All was in-character when it came to certain mad scientists. Hiro was likely a fire-starter – he'd have loved to give Brooklyn an edge, and have known Boris had an edge to give, – he was manipulative that way. In an exclusive interview with the corrupt director of Russia's now infamous Balcov Abbey, Boris Balcov tells all concerning the one-that-got-away-twice (thrice?). An emotional account, certainly, filled with plot holes and carefully concealed truths and outright lies, as was the tradition. Brooklyn would have eaten up every word sliding forth from the oily-clever intellect of that man… As would have Garland, but judging from the look on his face, he hadn't heard a thing about the BioVolt fiasco until his darling protégé had sucker-punched Kai's worn and weathered dignity just moments ago. He'd probably not have asked in the first place. Brooklyn knew something, he had a secret weapon previously humored only in the hands of the inevitable individuals that were directly involved, however undoubtedly the story he'd been reverently told was warped and incorrect, like the storyteller's brain. So what was Kai going to do about it?

He cast Zeus' blade, glinting so coldly in its owner's hand, a nonchalant look, lifting his marginally fallen chin up and crossing his arms over his chest, appearing for all the world haughty and unconvinced. "Truth be told, you weren't worth the trouble. You never showed me anything to be afraid of either. Kuro Suzaku would have been bored," he replied, voice determinedly much less shaky than his nerves, though somewhat strained through a bruised throat. I will not lash out in self-doubt and fear, the young dual phoenix-bearer told his self firmly, because I am neither doubtful nor afraid. Kai, finally back on his feet in the figurative sense as well as the literal, stared at each inhabiting the room in painstaking turn, demanding they fire off a few more shots while he was still in a most uncaring mood. If the memory of Kuro Suzaku couldn't really hurt him, what on Earth could? It was the worst and possibly earliest he had; spending most of your teenage years unable to recall any of your childhood resulted in a habit of living in the present (and fiercely protecting any retained memories made thereafter)… What he had eventually acknowledged as scenes from the real past remained to the day as unreal as his fleeting nightmares. Everything could be ignored in time, including the inviting whispers and sweet nothings of shadowy demons – including, he hoped, Brooklyn. Kai couldn't count on selective amnesia rolling around twice, anyway, could he?

"What in the world are you boys going on about now..?" Kylie, the most wearily confused presence demanded, brown eyes narrowed in incredulity. "Suzaku… Kuro Suzaku?" She pinched the bridge of her nose as if warding off a headache. Of course the girl knew about bit beasts (it had been something more of an ordeal having enough faith in their presence to satisfy her little brother in his early training years: "Kylie, you've gotta see this!" "See what?" "Apollon!" "What?" "Right there!" "…What?" "You're staring straight at him!"), she just had a difficult time conceptualizing the amount of emotional baggage that came with them. Sometimes they seemed to be more trouble than they were worth… Sometimes it was easier to pretend beyblading was an almost normal sport that had nothing to do with alternate realities or the reconstruction still going on in the city. Easier, but untrue. The fact was that to swallow everything unreasonable, to confront it, one had to suspend their disbelief. She'd been in a state of suspended disbelief for years because of Garland's unexpected choice-of-occupation. Professional beyblader. Professional gryphon-bearer… Once in a while she'd see Apollon, if just to make her sibling happy. That didn't mean that Kylie condoned utter attachment to a mere family heirloom passed down from some eccentric.

"They're Kai's…" Gar was looking sharply back and forth between Brooklyn and the oddly composed Hiwatari, attempting to wrap his head around the accusation and what might just have been a confession. Two bit beasts – two phoenixes? One stronger than the other, this Kuro thing… Kai hadn't protested at all, despite the connotations. The youngest C-Bolt found himself growing interested (and to a degree, suspicious), because if it was so, if Kai had a pair of bit beasts that could be used and interchanged at any time, why weren't they? There had to be something wrong, something that prevented him from unleashing this 'dark beast,' even when the situation was dire, when it demanded the best. In a way, Brooklyn was correct… Suzaku had obviously been pushed to its very limits and maybe past them – he had assumed the young Hiwatari lacked a choice in the matter, but if there was an alternative that might have spared the bird such pain, what sort of a bearer would pass it by? A bit beast was a privilege… one did not risk it lightly. Until those exchanged words, Garland hadn't a doubt in his mind that Kai loved his phoenix and would have done anything to protect it – now there was only doubt. Did the blader impassively glaring at him have to protect Suzaku from himself? Could he? "Brooke… where did you hear about all of this?" he questioned, eyes never leaving Kai.

The genius, who had been gazing about at them in an overpowering display of gentle guiltlessness (and fooling no one), slowly smiled at his captain. "I was curious as to how coach Hiro was acquainted with Kai —" Brooklyn's bright blue eyes jumped back to the latter young man when a sneer curled its way across his bruised, previously emotionless face: he'd been right, Hiro had set it up. That was something to sneer about. "— So I asked, and from there happened to learn that Hiro was the world champion's older brother, but more importantly, that in matters concerning Kai, I should consult somebody that knew him better." He grinned lazily and sadistically at the slate-haired beyblader across the room for the sake of watching him bristle, and then faced Garland, all honesty and fat cherubim once again. "I was directed to seek a consultation with Boris… It wasn't surprising to me that the two apparently had dealings prior to BEGA – the way they made a point of avoiding one another was telling enough, though I'm sure you noticed the staring contests?" His head tilted in question, and a bewildered and morbidly fascinated Garland nodded agreement.

Satisfied, Brooklyn cleared his throat to continue, obviously (or as far as obviously to Kai Hiwatari) relishing the recap of a scenario that would lead without fail to too much information shared. Information that had no business being shared. He needed to be shut up. Ruby irises fell on the Zeus beyblade for a second time, scrutinizing – he wasn't afraid of that thing. He had nothing to be afraid of anymore. But then, Suzaku was so far away… Could he strike more quickly than the god in that hunk of metal attacked? With his Dranzer, probably. Without it, not a chance. For the time being he was pinned, force-fed this annoying drabble – Kai readily dived at the opportunity to feel annoyed and angry instead of hurt and helpless. Attempting to tune out the surrounding, irritating conversation he began to form an insane plot. It involved procuring a large knife from the wooden block further along the countertop and taking Kylie hostage. The kitchen was becoming suffocating, all those soothing smells softly drifting inwards to spirit away what resolve to remain constant he had left. Sickening lilac, sandalwood – why was it nobody else noticed! Too much longer and he'd snap; the phoenix blader supposed the day could end only in injury and tears, one way or another… and what a common theme in his life thus far.

"So I think we could gather from pure observation that Boris Balcov and Kai Hiwatari had been at odds somehow, that one had wronged the other. Just how it happened is a very fine story, and I'd have Kai himself tell it for accuracy's sake if he didn't look so very faint – it's simple in both structure and moral, but I'd rather not butcher the punch line… Suffice it to say that once upon a time in Russia – only a couple of years ago, actually, – Boris offered Kai a very special bit beast named Kuro Suzaku, perfect for him in every single way and the uses he'd always wished to put one to. Having accepted this gracious gift he felt it unnecessary to retain possession of the original firebird, discarding Suzaku as then useless, only a weakling child's training ground in preparation for the comparative superiority of his new pal. Kai then proceeded to leave his former team, the Bladebreakers, when they needed him the most in the finals of the World Championship tournament in favor of the already powerful soldiers – for lack of a better term – they were facing, Russia's Demolition Boys, under Mr. Balcov. The way he told it to me, Kai came across remorseless." Brooklyn redoubled his cheerful smile. "I didn't sense any deception."


Author's Notes: Climax, eh..? Guess I was lying! This is a two-part chapter of doom, because, frankly, it was getting way too long to be a single one. And man, I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet… We'll find the bottom of this dilemma though, I swear, if it's the last thing I do; you guys just try to follow my train of thought in these – I know it can't be easy. I had so much fun throwing Garland out of the loop with the whole Russia thing. Brooklyn knowing all that doesn't really help their situation much though, does it?

I apologize to those of you who've liked how Brooklyn has been thus far, because in this chapter – well I killed it, didn't I? And it was fun. I turned him into a devious little… I just kept remembering those scenes in his last battle against Tyson and came to the decision that yes, Brooklyn has a pretty dangerous side to his personality. It's dominating and scary. It comes out when he's under extreme stress. He was under extreme stress. And there you have it. Furthermore, it, meanie-Brookie, being out and about allows the lot of them a tiny bit more honesty and Garland doesn't feel the need to be so protective. Which was getting in my way. So I got it out of my way.

I'll say more at the end of part two, but let's end this bit with a special thank you to Rae TB, to whom the chapter as a whole and the power-fragments therein are dedicated. I did what I could to heed your wonderful advice as another great writer it is an honor to have amused, and was impressed by your insight – it was refreshing. Keep up your awesome work and I'll keep right on reading it.

Now, friends, countrymen… forge on!