If there was one thing I had quickly learned about boarding school life, it was that weekends were the only time you had enough freedom to do anything outside of homework and studying. This of course made me quite thankful that we had a break coming up in the form of a four day weekend.

Wyatt and his friends had recently developed a bad habit of turning my room into their hangout area, which meant I was spending an awful lot of time sitting on my floor instead of on my bed or at my desk chair and I now had at least two bottles of alcohol stashed under my dresser.

I was truly a tool.

Now sprawled out on my bed at least somewhat drunk, Wyatt handed me a bottle and hung his head off the side, his hair now falling downward and making him look rather ridiculous.

"So Kai," He began to ask, "How long have you been here now?"

I had to think for a moment as I had begun in the middle of a semester.

"A little more than a month?" I questioned, passing the bottle without drinking it.

My grades had gone up and I was doing relatively good at school, although I wasn't sure if that would continue once my classes changed, and my therapist wasn't attempting to make me talk so I was getting an extra hour of time to just lay there and do nothing. Really my only downfall in life right now was that Wyatt had been falling sleep on my bed lately and I didn't have the energy to bother waking him up. Even my nightmares were starting to slow down.

"We should celebrate." Wyatt continued. "It would have made more sense if we did it after your first month but seeing as we all kinda suck at planning anything we could probably just do something now."

Speak for yourself. Spend enough time with Tyson and Max and you learn to take drawing out plans very seriously. Rei was too proper to tell anyone off and Kenny was too by the book.

"Isn't it getting a little cold to still have fires?" I asked, deciding to be nice and not mention that it would be fine if any of them actually knew how to make a fire.

"What kind of Russian are you?" He laughed. "Don't you guys like, cut holes in the ice and swim?"

Okay now I was mostly just curious where he was getting his information from. Did Americans make fun of Russians the same way Japan made fun of Americans in anime?

"Look I might not have a lot of memories from before I lived in Japan but I'm pretty confident that is not a thing."

He chuckled obnoxiously.

"How long have you lived here?" Avery asked. It was currently just the three of us as I was pretty sure Emile and Henri had gone somewhere to make out.

"Five or six years I think, but I spoke Japanese before I moved here, or at least understood it fluently."

"So you really don't remember anything about your life in Russia?"

"Not really." I shrugged. That wasn't entirely true, I had begun recalling some details regarding The Abbey after our first world tournament and I had a few memories of my parents and our home, but the vast majority of my childhood was blank and I wasn't sure how accurate my dreams were.

A knock on the door interrupted our ever so fascinating conversation and I again grew annoyed that my living quarters that I was supposed to occupy only by myself had somehow become a free for all.

I got up and opened it, not recognizing the boy who stood on the other side. He was significantly taller than me and appeared to be an upperclassman.

"You're supposed to report to the central office." He informed me, peering over my shoulder at the duo of idiots behind me. "And you aren't supposed to have visitors in your dorm, if you're studying together you need to use the library. Give me your names, I'm writing all of you up."

"They didn't give you my name when they sent you to get me?" I asked smugly.

He went on some sort of miniature tirade about respecting authority while I stepped into the hallway. The two idiots could handle him, and I didn't need to be walked down to the office like a child.

I'll admit that finding Ono-San waiting for me did come as a surprise, I wasn't expecting to see her until the next day but I guess I didn't take the long weekend into consideration.

"Let's go talk in the office." She stated, putting a hand on my shoulder. I couldn't figure out if she was about to give me good news or bad news. Maybe the school didn't want me anymore and she was about to inform me that I would now be staying with a foster family who put on the stage parents act and were excited to take me in because they had seen me on television.

She closed the door behind me and suggested I sit down.

Bad news. Closing the door always means bad news.

"What's going on?" I asked. She sat across from me, crossing her legs and holding that same clipboard on her lap.

"We've found your fathers whereabouts." She stated bluntly. "He's currently in the country, but he's a few hours away. We're in the process of getting in contact with him outside of email. He does seem interested in seeing you and would like you to be able to meet your younger brother."

Excuse me?

My father lives in Japan?

I have a younger brother?

I clutched my fists tightly to my legs, which were now shaking.

"So he's been in the same country as me all this time and have never once attempted to contact me and now I'm supposed to be okay with him suddenly wanting to be in my life?"

She wrote something down on her paper.

"Actually, it's more complicated than that. We've also been able to get a hold of your medical records from Russia, which wasn't an easy task mind you," She looked over her glasses at me as though that was somehow my fault. "We have some concerns regarding your early childhood that makes me question if living with your father would benefit you."

Hang on, she just mentioned him wanting to see me, she didn't say anything about me living with him. That was out of the question, absolutely not.

"That's fine. I don't want to live with him."

She ignored me.

"Your medical files show a substantial amount of injuries when you were between the ages of six and ten; that's not counting anything you weren't taken to the doctor for. You were brought to the ER at age six for a broken wrist and it was also put on your record that you had a black eye at the time. You were taken in again at eight for breaking the same wrist and were found to have a cracked rib that had healed on it's own some time ago." So I had broken my wrist as a kid. "None of these incidents were ever reported to authorities."

"I don't think the authorities are usually called in for a broken bone." I responded sardonically.

"Only if there's cause for concern."

"Kids get hurt."

She signed, knowing that this conversation wasn't her place.

"I'm going to be giving your therapist your medical records and I think it would be in your best interest to talk with her if you're serious about wanting emancipation." She paused and brushed out a wrinkle that had formed in her skirt. Now that I thought about it Avery would probably think she was hot.

"You don't need to go to therapy to be emancipated." I informed her. I hadn't necessarily done a ton of research on the topic yet, but I had definitely never read anything about needing to see a therapist.

"That's technically true." She began, "But you do need a clean bill of mental health or proof that you're getting your mental health treated. Your antisocial tendencies, distrust in authority and refusal to open up to anybody show me that you are not in the proper state of mind to care for yourself."

I stood up fast enough that I managed to make myself dizzy.

"I've been taking care of myself my entire life!" I yelled. "I'm sick of everyone trying to dictate what I can and can't do!"

My hands were balled so tightly into fists that I was cutting off blood flow and my body was shaking. I was struggling to catch my breath.

"You may be excused now to calm your composure." She told me, "But you will need to finish this conversation even if you find it unpleasant. As an adult you won't get the opportunity to leave every time something doesn't go your way."

Fuck.

This.

Shit.

I left the room and slammed the door behind me like an angsty twelve year old. I could hardly hold back tears but I wasn't sad, I was angry. I was downright pissed.

I walked quickly through the halls, ignoring everyone around me and kept my clutched fists in my pockets to ensure I wasn't going to punch anyone who looked at me the wrong way. My door was locked and fumbling with my key to open it just enraged me more…

I cursed under my breath and then almost fell over when Wyatt opened my door from the inside.

I had forgotten I left them in my room.

"Are you okay?" Wyatt asked, he looked genuinely concerned.

"No." I stated bluntly. "I want to be alone."

"Avery left already."

"I don't care. I want to be alone!"

I closed my door loudly, making him flinch. I could feel that tears were running down my face and my chest was tightening. Okay, seriously, I really couldn't breath. "Please leave." I managed to get out without hyperventilating.

"Kai, I'm not leaving you alone, you're having a panic attack."

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not fine. Sit down."

He took my hand gently, and I didn't have the strength to stop him… walking me over to my bed and making me sit down. "Just focus on breathing." He told me.

Climbing behind me onto my bed Wyatt pulled me into him, stabilizing himself against the wall.

"Bring your legs up, so your knees are under your chin."

I did what he told me and he wrapped his arms around my body and legs, squeezing me gently and bringing my head down onto my knees.

I was still shaking pretty badly and was struggling to hold back tears. This was all becoming too much for me. I took care of other people, I helped my team when they needed me, I was captain because I was the one trusted to hold everything together. Tyson had strength, Rei grew up in a village and understood the importance of teamwork, Max was energetic and had a positive attitude and even Kenny was the brains of the whole operation. My job was to hold everyone together, though. I could handle Tyson's temper and keep him in line and I made sure we were on top of our game at all times. Our training regiment was that of my own creation. I wasn't the brightest or the strongest but it didn't matter. I had a place on my team. I had no place here.

Wyatt didn't say anything to me, he just held onto me and matched his breathing to mine until I was able to calm down.

Slowly he took his weight off of me and pulled me into his chest, wrapping an arm around my torso.

"Are you okay now…?" He asked.

I didn't answer right away. My current feelings were complicated and this wasn't the type of thing I would normally talk to someone else about.

"I'll be fine as soon as you get me too drunk to remember anything that just happened." I told him. He exhaled sharply like a half assed attempt at a laugh and got off the bed, grabbing a bottle of alcohol and opening it. He took a mouthful before he handed it to me.

"I really am a bad influence." He joked flatly.

I shrugged and brought the bottle to my mouth, choking down what I was able to muster.

"This is absolutely disgusting." I remarked before taking another drink and handing it back to him. He shrugged.

"You get used to it."

I got up and rummaged under my dresser for the other bottle they had stowed away, hoping it might taste slightly less like mouthwash mixed and cough syrup.

Spoiler alert: It did not.

"Slow down." Wyatt said, "This shit is potent, it's gonna hit you quicker than you realize."

He was right about that. My head felt really heavy all of a sudden and I had to sit on the floor to make the room stop spinning. He smirked a bit at my misfortune, although he still seemed unsure if I was in a mental state where it was okay for him to joke around.

"If you throw up, I'm not cleaning you off."

"Yes you would." I smiled shyly.

"Well, maybe."

I got a knot in my chest when he looked into my eyes. He had nice eyes… My entire body had begun feeling warm and although he had warned me to slow down, I took another drink from the bottle, no longer particularly bothered by the fact that the taste reminded me of the time Tyson pranked me by filling a bottle of soy sauce with vanilla extract.

I do not recommend the taste of pure vanilla extract and in my defense I held back when I punched him in the face and he ended up being fine.

Wyatt slid down the side of the bed, joining me on the floor.

"You're really sure you're okay?" He asked. Although I don't think he intended to, he was now staring at me with puppy dog eyes, a small concerned smile peaking out. I sprawled myself out on the floor, keeping my gaze at the ceiling. When I closed my eyes I felt sick.

"I don't like these people running my life for me." I admitted, spilling alcohol all over my face while I made the fatal error of attempting to drink while laying down. Wyatt lay next to me now, his head propped up on his hand.

"I still don't completely understand why you're here. Is the problem that you don't have family in Japan? I'm guessing someone has at least attempted to get a hold of your parents."

"I'm here because no one fucking wants me. Do you know what it feels like to realize that there isn't a single person in your family who gives a single shit what happens to you? My grandfather got arrested and I'm here because no one cares what happens to me."

I was slurring my words a bit but I honestly didn't care, even though Wyatt seemed confused about what I was saying.

"Kai, I need you to slow down a bit, you just switched languages half way through a sentence."

Wait, did I?

I took a deep breath, rolling over to my side and attempting to maintain eye contact while I spoke.

"My father wants to see me." I said quietly. "My case worker isn't sure if it's a good idea because my medical records show signs of physical abuse."

Wyatt continued looking at me but didn't speak, instead putting his hand on top of mine, running his thumb across mine gently.

"How do you feel about that?" He asked.

"I don't want to see him. If he wanted me he could have found me."

"Do you really think that no one wants you?"

"I know that no one wants me."

The deeper he looked into my eyes the tighter the sensation in my chest and stomach got… so in an absolutely terrible attempt to ease the tension that was currently in the room I asked him:

"I'm still speaking Japanese, right?"

He smiled sadly.

"Yes, you're still speaking Japanese. I think I should cut you off, though. You've had a lot more to drink than I think you realize and we missed dinner so you don't have any food in your stomach."

Actually I hadn't thought about the fact that we missed dinner… could I get detention on a long weekend? Was that a thing?

I sat up for a moment, which was a bad idea because now my stomach was mad at me. Taking in my surroundings was strange after drinking too much because even though I knew I was in my dorm room it seemed to take my brain a moment to process what I was looking at. After a moment I pulled a sheet off of my bed and wrapped myself in it, covering my face.

"Are you planning on sleeping on the floor now?" Wyatt asked.

"I am in my cocoon of comfort."

He chuckled slightly and attempted to take my blanket, to which I attempted to roll away while wrapped up in a blanket and unable to see. "Cocoon of comfort!" I yelled, now laying directly on top of my face.

"Yeah, you're definitely drunk." He giggled.

We stayed like that for awhile, laying next to each other without speaking. Everything around us was silent outside of the occasional sound of our classmates in the hallways or the footsteps coming from the room above mine. My body felt extremely heavy and I was now regretting being under a blanket due to how unnecessarily warm I was.

"By the way," I began. "I have a younger brother. So not only was I abandoned, I was also replaced."

"That has to be a weird feeling." Wyatt said. "To suddenly go from an only child to having a sibling. Most kids who have younger brothers and sisters are at least prepared for it during their moms pregnancy."

"It's just another day in my life..." I got up now, attempting to move onto the bed while the room span around me. Wyatt had to guide me so that I didn't fall over. "Everyone gets to make their own decisions about what they want to do, but not me. I get told what to do and I'm just expected to blindly follow it. Congratulations, your dad has another kid and suddenly wants to be in your life after never even bothering to call you after I don't even know how many years."

Laying back down on the bed, I rolled myself into the corner, curling my body into a fetal position and lightly tapping my forehead on the wall repeatedly.

"You're a lot more talkative when you're drunk."

To tell you the truth I wasn't sure if the alcohol was the thing making me talk or if I just couldn't hold any of this in anymore. My eyes were starting to pool with tears again and I buried my face. I have come to the executive decision that I did not enjoy being drunk, but it was also possible I was not yet drunk enough to forget everything currently taking over my life.

I focused my breathing, trying to relax a bit more.

"Can I ask you a question?" I asked redundantly.

"Well we did force you to play 20 questions a few weeks ago so I suppose it's only fair."

I paused.

"How did you know…?" I asked, my face now filled out in a deep blush.

"How did I know what?"

"That you were attracted to guys..."

The thought had been on my mind for while. I had assumed I liked girls because I was supposed to like girls. I didn't necessarily find men attractive but at the end of the day I have never felt anything other than completely neutral toward either sex. I'd never had romantic thoughts about anyone.

I could feel him adjust the way he was sitting and I was fairly sure he was looking at me.

"I guess I always knew I was different." He began. "I was never interested when other boys talked about girls and I felt out of place, like everyone was feeling something that I just couldn't. When I got my first crush I actually didn't even realize it was a crush. I just knew I liked being around him and I knew that he was on my mind a lot. Once I actually hit puberty was when I came to the realization that I felt something romantic towards him."

"I'm guessing that didn't work out." I assumed.

"I transferred here not that long after. I'm not going to go after someone who I'll only see during the summer holiday. Besides, he never gave me any impression that he felt that way toward me."

If I remembered correctly I was pretty sure that was the opposite of Max. I think he went to school in America where his mom lived and stayed in Japan during the summer and during tournaments. I actually wasn't even sure if Rei went to school or if he was home schooled like I had been.

A brief pause caused tension in the air around us before Wyatt spoke again.

"It's okay, you know." He said quietly.

"What's okay?"

I turned my head to look at him and his eyes averted my gaze shyly.

"It's okay to not feel like everyone else. To be confused."

I blushed slightly, bringing my face down in shame.

Wyatt lay down next to me, laying his arm across my waist and lacing his fingers into mine. My chest felt tight and heavy and in my drunken state I didn't pull away from him. It actually felt nice, the warmth of someone else pressed to your body.

I wasn't sure how long we had been laying like that. Maybe around an hour? My thoughts were interrupted by Wyatt saying:

"Hey, you know what I just thought of?" I turned to look at him, not responding but showing that I was listening. "If you have a little brother now that means Rei is the only one left on your team who's an only child."

Actually I had forgotten that Max had become a big brother recently.

"Depends on how you view the team. Kenny is an only child."

I also didn't know for an absolute fact that Rei had no siblings, it was possible there was one we didn't know about. I didn't even realize that his teammates Lee and Mariah were brother and sister until the next year, they looked nothing alike. Based on how Tyson spoke about him he essentially worshiped the ground his older brother walked on. Hiro, his name was. I think he was quite a bit older than us, early twenties maybe.

"What's your brothers name?" Wyatt asked.

"I have no idea. I don't even know how old he is."

I couldn't tell if the effects of the alcohol I had essentially inhaled were wearing off or if I was just getting used to it. I mostly had an upset stomach.

It was strange, I thought when I sobered up I would distance myself again, pull myself away, but I didn't. I just kept looking at him.

"You've had a rough few months, haven't you?" He stated more than asked. I nodded.

"I just wanna be in charge of my own life..."

"None of what's happened to you is your fault."

I didn't understand what it was that I was feeling, but the longer I looked at Wyatt, his face only inches away from my own, the more I wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. I moved my face just slightly closer to his, wondering if he was thinking the same thing. His hand brushed my face gently, bringing his hand to the back of my head and pulling me into him.

It wasn't anything like you see in movies or on TV, it was quick, only lasting a moment, but in that moment I felt something inside myself click. It felt right, and I wanted to do it again.

"I'm sorry." Wyatt said quietly, he looked an odd mix between proud and ashamed. "I shouldn't have done that without asking. You've been drinking, you aren't in a good state of mind."

I didn't say anything, instead I rested my head on his chest and let him pull me closer to him.

"You're wanted." He told me, giving me a quick squeeze. "I promise that you're wanted."

I just want to take this time to say that until the day I die I will never stop bringing it to the attention of old school fans of the show that the original Beyblade does in fact have a sequel manga and that Max is canonically an older brother to a baby sister. You're welcome.