A/N: Hello dear viewers! We present to you another one-shot! The last chapter for (Not so) small moments is in progress, so we thought of compensating by posting this. I had ben working on this for quite some time anyway :P
So, this story is set in the V-force season - when the focus was on Wyatt Smithwright and team Psychic. This fic is about the last interaction between Kai and Wyatt. (Wyatt dies in the Japanese version)
The making of the story was kinda funny because it was Moon's inspiration, but she got lost on the path of life, so I stole her idea and added my own twists and turns to it. (I'm evil :P MWHAHAHAHAHA)
Needless to say, she gets the credit :D
Ok getting back...
One Last Flight - by Sun.
Read and review please! ^_^
One Last Flight
Wyatt stared out at the immense blue sky. The scattered white clouds drifted along the horizon, fleeting like his thoughts and his grasp on the world. He felt lost in that vast, intimidating space but it gave him peace. How he wished to spread his wings and fly – like he had always imagined. How he wished to let go!
The near-constant hum of monitors and the dull beeping were his only companions. The running oxygen machine as well as the steady IV drip taped to the back of his hand were the only things that kept him anchored to agonizing reality.
The sound of a sliding door was an intruder amongst his thoughts. "He doesn't have much time," a voice said in a hushed tone. He weakly turned his head to the foot of his bed. "Hello there Wyatt, how are you feeling?" the nurse greeted him as kindly as ever, "You have a visitor." Her words barely registered in his mind.
The nurse stepped aside to reveal the newcomer. As half-closed eyelids stared at the so-called 'visitor', he only just deciphered slate hair and a pale face with shark-fin tattoos. It all seemed like a hazy shade of blue.
Wyatt didn't try to observe the boy any further. The last thing he noticed was that the boy's eyes were a fierce crimson. He felt something come alive inside of himself as he locked eyes with the brilliant crimson orbs. They seemed…familiar. Comforting.
Yet his foggy mind refused to think, refused to feel anything but the numbness that had plagued him for the longest time. The room became a haze. All the white sterile walls swirled. Wyatt turned his head back to look at the sky, the only thing his blackened brain was willing to comprehend.
The nurse glanced at the teen beside her. "It may happen now," she said helplessly. The boy nodded, crimson eyes fixed on the floor. Giving the two boys a sad smile, she slipped out of the ward – giving the patient and his visitor some privacy.
Wordlessly, the newcomer walked over to the vacant chair beside Wyatt. "I'm sorry," the slate-head's voice was devoid of its usual sternness, just a whisper. "You shouldn't have made me your idol. I let you down. It's my fault that you're…" he didn't conclude his sentence. Crimson eyes looked at the unresponsive chestnut-haired teen. He knew it was rather to foolish to expect a reply – much less any forgiveness.
Exhaling softly, the visitor placed something in the Wyatt's hand.
The boy's hand twitched at the sudden feel of cold metal but relaxed at the sudden warmth which the object emitted. His stiff fingers ran over its firm edges, feeling the pleasant heat that now flowed through him entirely. Wyatt closed his eyes – a vivid image forming in his mind.
He stood at the edge of a cliff. The sun was casting its evening rays over the shimmering ocean, bidding it farewell as it retired for the day. There was a fire in the sky – a beautiful mix of red, orange and golden – and it felt mild.
How truly wonderful it was! Wyatt smiled as he prepared his wings. He knew he was ready. Breaking into a run, he leapt of the cliff. His flew. He flew like Icarus – closer to the sun but surer of himself and his silver wings. Winds blew past him as his white wings cut through the cotton-candy clouds. He could finally claim the sky, just like the birds that had once mocked him with their freedom. The chestnut-haired boy laughed out in excitement.
A figure flapped its wings. A majestic red phoenix flew alongside him. Its determined black eyes stood out in contrast against its golden mane. It had taken flight since Wyatt jumped – and the boy knew it would fly by him until he reached the other side. He felt reassured.
The slate-head gazed silently as Wyatt's lips curled into a smile. Crystal tears flowed from the boy's closed eyelids, and when his eyes opened, Wyatt turned to acknowledge his visitor. Crimson orbs widened in surprise as Wyatt's eyes sparkled with an old gleam. Gratitude shone in eyes that had remained empty for a long time.
He looked away to gaze at the blue sky one last time. "Thank you, for letting me fly again," he whispered with every ounce of strength left in him. The heart monitor's beeping became slower. As if on cue, Wyatt closed his eyes. 'I'll be alright as long as you stay be me. I did the right thing by trusting you, Kai Hiwatari. Thank you,' he thought to himself.
A wave of calm washed over him. His last breath left him – resembling a sigh. The smile never left his lips as the teen welcomed the silence.
And just like that, Wyatt Smithwright peacefully exited the world.
Dranzer slipped from the limp hand and clattered onto the floor. The room was completely soundless, barring the final hum of the heart monitor – claiming that a soul had slipped away beyond the stars. Kai picked up his Beyblade, tucking it into his pocket. He took a deep breath before turning off the oxygen machine.
The slate-head tucked Wyatt's lifeless hand back under the white covers, whispering his goodbye. "Fly high Wyatt," he prayed. Kai then solemnly exited the ward, his fist clenching as he swore vengeance for his friend.