Firstly, a great big thank-you to everyone who reviewed! Secondly, thanks to everybody for reading my story. I appreciate both efforts very much, and I'm sorry it took so long to update.
Disclaimer: I, under the pen name Phoenix-Roar, do not own Beyblade – That is, I do not own any characters, the plot of the show/manga, names, etc. Takao Aoki owns Beyblade (I think? That's the name that's on the spine of the manga, anyway… If somebody could clear this up for me, I'd be grateful). I am not making any profits whatsoever from writing this. I am just writing it for the entertainment of others and to improve my literary skills. I thank for providing me with a server to share my fanfictions with others that are willing to read them.
Forewarning: Pairing is TYKA. Some swearing, some scenes not suitable for younger audiences. The usual. Ye be still allowed to press the back button up yonder..!
Kai rested his head in the nook of the World Champion's neck. He smelled good. And he was comfy. He didn't care if Tyson thought he was weird anymore; nothing else mattered. Tyson was his lifeline.
Kai linked his arms around Tyson's neck, letting out a sigh of relief as he drifted into unconsciousness once more. Although dreams of a tormented Dranzer plagued him, the burden seemed lighter when he was in Tyson's shielding arms.
How to survive without a Heart
Chapter III
A Terrible Mistake
He felt numb.
He wasn't sure if he was to blame the numbness entirely on the cold, or on the missing half of his soul.
Kai's hands were warm… He was tugging on something with all of his might, with all of the power he possessed.
He held a dematerialized, miniature form of Dranzer between his hands; the source of the warmth. His other half.
The unclear, blurry phoenix cawed and screeched, her voice lost to some nonexistent wind. She wanted to go back to him.
This goal was unachievable. A pair of silhouetted hands caged her from the back, trying to pull Dranzer away from Kai. But this, he would not have! The tug-of-war battle raged, each side as equally strong as the other.
But Kai was exhausted without Dranzer's supporting energy; he felt dizzy and nauseous. Dranzer whined like a hurt canine, as she was slowly, but surely, being pulled back into the darkness. Away from Kai.
A pair of arms stretched from a being standing beside the Russian, their hands clasping firmly but harmlessly around the phoenix. A quick glance allowed Kai the vague image of blue hair. Messy ponytail. Stormy eyes. A familiar, warm smile.
Tyson.
The combined strength began to reel Dranzer in to Kai's side, happy chirps escaping the little red bird.
However, just as Dranzer was getting close, the opposing hands began to multiply. Arms of shadows shot from the darkness to help their comrades steal the bird away.
The heat seeped from Kai's fingers, withdrawing as the shadow people pulled her out of sight.
Dranzer was crying.
Kai looked to the side. At least he had someone to fall back on..?
Tyson was gone.
Although he found it hard to believe, he wanted to cry, too.
Kai collapsed into a ball, hugging his knees to his chest.
It felt like an eternity had passed. Despite no tears having run down his face, they were conglomerating around him, as if they were able to just seep out of him. As if he was the opposite of a sponge.
The tears he hadn't cried froze around his legs, welding him to the ground. He could have broken free at this point, but didn't.
Kai had no intention to move.
Eventually, his whole being became one with the ice. He had nothing to worry about anymore; all he had to do was say nothing, do nothing, and feel nothing. And that was all he wanted.
It was only a nightmare, despite how real it had felt.
He was warm, he had to admit; it melted the cold residue from his icy dream. A nice but firm cushion kept him comfortable, his source of coziness. He frowned slightly; did he even own a cushion anymore? Kai's eyes opened slowly. Concentrating for a moment, he tried to figure out what it was he was looking at through half-open, blurry, tired eyes. The sight utterly confused him, his not-yet-awake brain telling him that he should be seeing sunbeams, or his apartment.
Obscure memories slowly dripped back into his aching head, forming a puddle of random events.
Voltaire and Boris were free once more.
Tyson had given him a warning call.
Thugs broke into his apartment, and bashed him unconscious.
Dranzer was gone.
Kai felt a stabbing pain in his heart – correction, where his heart should have been – and closed his eyes for another set of minutes.
His mind was still hidden under a dreamy veil. He missed Dranzer more than anything in the world; it hurt him to think about what life would be like without his bit-beast.
Where was Dranzer? Was she hurt, being abused? Lastly, would he ever find her again?
What was he going to do now?
He pulled out a foggy list that he'd fabricated in his mind the evening before.
He would never give out his heart again.
Now, to engrave more details into it:
1. Never smile again.
2. Never laugh again. Exception: cold-hearted, malevolent laughter.
3. Disengage from all physical, biological interactions.
4. Never cry, either in reality, or in the dream state. No exceptions.
Feeling a bit more sated with his desire to cut every emotion out of his life, Kai cracked open his eyes again, and digested the sight that had previously puzzled him.
He was, in fact, face-to-face with Tyson's strong, tanned neck. As in, he could practically see his skin cells going through mitosis, he was that close. A good surface area of the Russian's unblemished, perfect face was resting on the Japanese blader's shoulder. A chest rose and fell slowly beneath him, a strong heart emitting a lazy beat within it. Kai laxly clutched Tyson's other shoulder, his other arm coiled behind Tyson's neck, as if he'd… he'd… hugged… him…?
Kai Hiwatari, hug someone? No, it was just impossible.
But it had happened. The flashback smacked clumsily into the side of Kai's skull, even though he'd willed it strongly to stay away. Once Kai had realized that Tyson was a warm object, he'd flung himself at him, without thinking twice about it.
Kai pressed his forehead to Tyson's jacketed shoulder, groaning quietly. He could feel a faint heat settle across his face in embarrassment. His several-years-younger self was standing in the back of his mind, pointing and laughing at him. The cold-hearted, merciless Kai that the Bladebreakers had first encountered sneered at him, telling him how pathetic he'd become, and how he shouldn't even know what a hug felt like. The somewhat thawed Kai felt a twang of jealousy for his past self, which brought a bout of shame and disgust over his new self. The cold-hearted Kai was right; he had become a dependant weakling.
He'd have to become cold again; he just couldn't risk making – or keeping - any friends. It wouldn't be so hard to do after getting rid of Tyson; all he would have to do is roll into a ball and wait for the icy transformation to take over him.
Kai paused for a moment, feeling much crappier now that his self-hatred had opened up again, like an injury just beginning to scab over. Wasn't this type of contact against the rules he'd just reinforced? He urged himself to move.
Tyson shifted subtly, causing Kai to tilt his head upwards in alarm. He watched Tyson's head slowly roll the other way, the tanned face tightening slightly in the wake-up process.
Kai was not going to go back on his list, even if it meant giving up the luxury that was Tyson.
He detangled himself from the other young adult, slithering out of the cage that was Tyson's arms. With a weak heave, Kai managed to practically roll off of the couch.
Maybe moving so soon wasn't such a good idea.
Fireworks were going off in his head, painfully colliding with his already-sore skull, thanks to his disobedient flashback. He was still disoriented from being brutally mauled. His stomach did a couple of gymnastic moves – and the room was spinning – and suddenly, he was lying on his side, the cool floor greeting him with an unwelcome attitude.
He felt like a waterlogged shirt, heavy with fatigue. He'd been in worse situations; there was no excuse to lie around and be dependant on others for his needs. Shaky arms slowly pushed him up, and he crashed against the nearest wall, using it as support.
Where was he even going? Washing his face would do some good. Staggering with the aid of the walls to the bathroom, Kai clutched the sides of the sink to keep himself from teetering over. He regarded his reflection through closing eyes.
A pale, dreary face stared at him, a cross of indifference and regret in its crimson eyes. So, Tyson had cleaned the blood up, and bandaged a section of his forehead, near his eye. Guilt began to bubble up; Kai urged the cold wind inside of him to snuff it out, not being able to take any more bad emotions in one day.
'What an idiot. He shouldn't have helped me.'
"Kai!" Feeling like he had a hangover, Kai cringed at the voice. The socked footsteps stomped through his apartment, bringing the owner of the voice closer. Finally, a blue-haired teen poked his head into the bathroom curiously, watching a statue appear to be looking at itself in a cracked mirror. Oh, no, wait, that was Kai.
Tyson stepped closer to the statue. "How are you doing?"
Kai didn't answer.
"Alrighty then, I'll take that as a 'yup, I'm fine, Tyson! I'm glad you saved my life!' Yeaaaah… Hey, buddy; seriously, you're looking a bit green around the gills. You should really go back to sleep."
The crimson-eyed captain threw him an automated glance, seeming unsure if he should bother listening to the other or not. His pale, shaken hands released the porcelain sink's cool edges. He swayed in the air's current for a moment, before haphazardly walking towards Tyson, colliding shoulders with him by accident in his attempt to brush past him in his vertigo state.
Tyson turned to see Kai leaning against the wall, looking as if he were ready to buckle at any given instant. The tanned Japanese champion could not ignore the ushering from his alacritous side, and darted to the increasingly limp figure, securing one of Kai's chilly arms around his strong shoulders while hauling the slightly older teenager to stand weakly on his own two feet. He managed to get the silvery-slate-haired figure to the couch, before said male collapsed entirely. He sighed deeply, cracking open one crimson eye to get a blurry look at the form hovering over him.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Tyson asked, worry undulating in his voice.
Kai closed his eyes, his face seeming as if it was chiselled from a slab of stone.
"Kinomiya, get the fuck out of my apartment."
"I thought I told you to get out." The faint murmur of a sleep-trodden voice reached Tyson's ears some hours after the incident, and said blue-haired teen turned his head to take notice of his best friend's awakening state. A blanket lay pooled around his waist, as if he hadn't paid it any mind when he sat up to drill at Tyson with his foggy words.
"You should know me better than that, Kai!" Tyson grinned in a devil-may-care fashion. "I don't listen to anything anyone says."
A sock was flung at his blue head.
"Hey!" Tyson growled in amusement, dodging his own smelly sock which he had left strewn on Kai's new carpet. He dodged the opposite way when a shiny, stylish cell phone went flying past his head and clattered loudly on the kitchenette floor. He assumed that nothing more would be chucked at him, as there was really nothing left to throw, but he was sadly mistaken. Something else flew at him with more speed than previously thought possible, and before he had time to react, it collided with his forehead. A visibly reddening welt grew on his forehead where a sharp edge had hit him, and his eyes instantly watered. A hand quickly smacked to cover the temporary swelled injury, and he whined.
"Ow! What the hell is your problem, Kai!" He shouted the question to sound as if it were more of a demand. Tyson squinted against the pain, trying to locate the item that he had been flogged with in the other teen's ire. He got off of the rickety kitchen stool that he had become accustomed to in the past few days, and retrieved an extremely familiar item.
"Oi…! Dranzer's not something to be thrown like that! You of all people should know…" The blue blade was decorated with red streaks, and had a non-existent bit-chip. The metallic blade glinted majestically in the light. Tyson could hardly recall ever being allowed to touch it before; it was slightly warm, he was surprised to discover. Whether that was just from the heat accumulated when whipped at breakneck speed by Kai, or whether it was because it was the home of a phoenix's ancient spirit, he wasn't sure; but he knew that it was trademark to Kai's blade, and Kai's blade only.
"Hn." An indifferent grumble brought Tyson's attention back to the beyblade's furious owner. He had his arms crossed and was glaring at what appeared to be the back of the couch, or perhaps a spider on the wall.
Tyson huffed and was next to Kai in an instant. "Injured or not, you're coming with me." He grabbed Kai's cool hand, much to the other's surprise, and dragged him off of the couch, rendering the blanket in a crumpled fashion on the floor. The older teen stumbled dizzily as he was pulled through the apartment, speechless, tugging at Tyson's hand, willing it to release his own. However, Tyson would not agree, and Kai was trapped in that heavenly warmth that he had tried so hard to block out.
They reached the supposed bedroom, the tiny area that could easily be mistaken for a closet. Tyson dragged Kai inside, shutting the door behind them.
Tyson fumbled for the switch, eventually finding it after a minute or so had passed. The new light from the bare bulb made him squint for a second. Kai was seated on the floor; his legs sprawled out, back propped up against a dusty, blank wall. His head was tilted so that he could watch Tyson's face, but his expression was blank, catatonic, eerily placid; as if he was done. Finished. As if he had reached an end. The beautifully red eyes, slightly obscured by silvery-grey bangs, were looking at him, but not seeing him. It scared Tyson. What had brought about such a change in the Russian?
"Okay, Kai. You need to get something out of your system. I know that you've been finding it very hard to cope with life this past week or so, but you're really starting to worry me. I don't know if you know this, but I'm going to try my best to get Dranzer back for you. Don't even think for a second that I wouldn't care!" Tyson held Dranzer out to Kai, displaying the empty space where the phoenix should have resided, a serious expression set on his countenance. He leant in, forcefully prodding the blue blade in Kai's general direction, encouraging him to take it from his warm hand.
When Kai didn't even so much as blink at him, Tyson grew frustrated. He took a step back and slammed Dranzer into his launcher, a metallically groaned protest resounding as a result of the action. Kai's features hardened further; he shifted to sit up without the aid of the wall. He glared at Tyson with sudden attention, anger burning in his wine-coloured eyes.
"What—"
But the grinding rip of a cord cut off Kai's remark. Air around the blue blade whipped sharply, as the object of attention flew off the end of Tyson's launcher with a feeble spin. It landed on the hardwood floor with a clatter, instantly wobbling, like an abused animal. It swerved towards its master slowly, losing all of its spin as it reached his foot.
The phoenix's owner got to his feet, picking up the slightly warm blade in between gentle fingers. He glared at Tyson and snapped Dranzer into his own launcher. It fit like a perfect, golden ring gently sliding onto a slender digit. No disagreeing sounds came from the blade this time; it was back where it belonged.
What came next was not to be unexpected. A bloodcurdling bang, only moments later followed by a cacophony of metallic ringing and crashes, resounded throughout the apartment.
It was only a few minutes later that a white paw clawed underneath the door. Scratching and bumping ensued, and finally, the door opened a crack. Isabella the cat snuck inside in a surreptitious, clandestine manner. Neither blader noticed the white cat until she pounced on Dragoon while it was circling Dranzer, effectively trapping it between her hunting clutches. She stared down at the spinning thingamajig, smacking it with her right paw to slow it down to a ceased position. She licked the blade a few times in interest; as far as human guessing allowed, she probably mistook the white paint for the sweet milk she pined after.
The two bladers caught their breaths quickly after such a short battle. Kai sunk to the floor again, the somewhat sturdy blue beyblade retreating to its home in Kai's open palm. It was slightly damaged – cracked and chipped in several places, mostly on the sharp attack ring - but what else could he expect, going up against the world champion with less than half of his original power?
Still, he couldn't deny the warmth that had begun to override the cold anger flowing through his body. He closed his fingers around Dranzer's beyblade gently but firmly. The fact that somebody else had launched Dranzer set something off in him, and he just couldn't control the urge to steal Dranzer back and launch her himself. Even if the other person was Tyson. Then something clicked in Kai's brain… Tyson had done it on purpose, to get Kai to fight back; to get him to battle alongside Dranzer again; to light that lonely candle of hope within Kai which had been efficiently snuffed out.
Tyson rescued Dragoon from Isabella's brutal mauling, and examined the white beyblade with a somewhat shocked expression, a microscopic smile – so unlike his usually face-splitting, Cheshire-cat grins – playing on his face. "You actually put a dent in it." He looked upon the area missing a chunk for another second, and then shifted his bluish-grey eyes to scrutinize the other blader. Kai's eyes were half-lidded, almost as if he were ready to fall asleep, sitting in this stuffy, confining closet-bedroom.
There was more silence between them. There seemed to be a lot of it these days. Tyson broke it. "I promise I'll get Dranzer back for you." He stepped closer to Kai slowly.
"Tyson…" Kai began with a slightly hoarse and husky voice, "I don't need your help…"
"Yes, you do!" Tyson snapped back, infuriated. He stomped over to Kai's slouched form and stared down at his silver-and-navy-haired team member angrily. "Stop trying to act so… so independent!" Tyson hollered, spitting out the last word as if it were bitterly poisonous. "I know you like feeling all macho but you need to know when to accept other peoples' help!"
Kai would not meet Tyson's angry eyes; he looked off into the corner with a troubled, indecisive gaze. The red orbs were tired, half-concealed by his eyelids.
"I promise you, Kai…" Tyson said, sinking sadly to his knees beside the older teen, "we'll figure this mess out together. I know it sounds cliché, but I really do mean it. And I hope I'm getting through to you with this. You mean so much to me. Did I ever tell you that? Yeah, that's cliché, too, but you aren't my best friend for nothing! Not just anybody gets to be the world champ's best friend!" Tyson let out a small, unconvincing chuckle. He continued to ramble pointlessly, his voice eventually ceasing to break the silence. He let his forehead fall to meet Kai's bony shoulder, closing his eyes.
"Kai. I hope you listened to everything I just said, because I meant every word of it. The first thing we're gonna do tomorrow is tell the others about this whole mess, and we'll figure it out from there." Tyson's voice followed a decrescendo, morphing into a murmur. Even if it wasn't visible, Kai was listening to every word that fell from the world champ's mouth, and had to strain to hear the rest of his monologue. "Kenny'll have some mumbo-jumbo computer tricks to pull" – Kai smirked a little – "and we'll consult whoever we need to, to find out where Dranzer is, and to help you. Maybe a psychiatrist would be beneficial…" Tyson tilted his head upwards so that his chin was resting on the shoulder. He let his eyes roam the profile of that porcelain face. He caught the slight glare he was receiving for his last phrase and smiled innocently back, staring directly into those drilling eyes. "Ha-ha, or maybe not!" He stood up and resisted offering Kai his hand. He couldn't expect Kai to suddenly act chummy.
"We should probably get to bed… You might not be tired, but I'm pooped," Tyson sighed, dragging both of his hands down his face, making a stupid expression that resembled a zombie's. "Watching over you takes a lot more out of me than I ever thought humanly possible!"
And thus, five minutes later, both were resigned on the couch after a small struggle to get Kai to the main room. Moonlight flooded the room, large patches of the floor illuminated. They were sitting side by side. Kai attempted to find his own corner of the couch to sleep on, but Tyson grabbed his shoulders and pulled him backwards, splaying both of them out in a lazy, half-sitting, half-lying position.
Kai didn't know what to make of the situation. This was going against the rules he made earlier, but he really didn't want to move. Tyson was just too comfortable. He didn't want to give up on his rules, either. Deciding to leave the thinking for the morning, he shut down instantly, as if somebody had pulled the power plug to the computer that was Kai.
Men in black uniforms stood silently on a lookout point, a faint wind rolling through the sky. Some others were standing on either side of the road, positioned near their own cars, watching intently for any traffic. The trunk of the car nearest the rocky edge of the cliff opened, and something was hauled out of it by three of the men. They carried it carefully to the edge, and with a heave, threw the suspiciously large bag over the side. Eight seconds later, a faint splash resounded back up the cliff's edge, and all of the men piled back into the cars to drive away.
Staccato tapping was the only music to be heard in the silence of the richly-furnished room, as an older man with greyed hair sat at a desk. The oak-and-glass door opened slowly – the ubiquitous silence kept at bay due to its freshly oiled hinges - and a svelte, slender female walked through the doorway, high heels clacking noisily on the stone floor. She took a few steps in, and bowing her head respectfully, she said through dark-red lips, "Sir, the employee-in-charge sent on the mission you ordered is calling in to inform you of their progress. If you will, please respond on line six." With a flick of her long, black hair, she exited the room, a gentle click from the door acting as a period in the sentence that was her interruption.
Voltaire picked up the phone beside him and pressed the appropriate button with a stubby, calloused, discoloured finger, and resumed his bored, synchronized tapping with the other hand.
"What is it," he barked into the phone.
"Sir," spoke the other man, "we've completed the task. There were no witnesses."
"Good," Voltaire said, albeit uninterestedly. "When the squadron gets back, I have another mission to be taken care of. It's time to initiate the project."
With a clatter, the archaic man dropped the sleek black phone back onto the disk-shaped receiver without waiting for a reply. He swirled his chair to the side and stood. It was time for a visit to the laboratories.
Now in a completely separate area of the building, incredibly blinding white lights gave the endless room the feel of a modern-day science lab. All kinds of fancy-looking equipment were strewn across tables, scientist employees busy at work with them. Although he had never worked a day down here in his life, he knew where to go.
Taking up a large portion of the gigantic room was a thick glass tube, at least forty meters in diameter. Inside the tube was another tube, and another inside that one; it went on with this pattern until there were seven extremely thick layers of safety glass. The most inward tube was filled with a curious pale-green liquid that glowed like a fluorescent soup. Floating idly in the borsht was a large ball of contrasting red light, almost like another sun. Voltaire stared at it through narrowed eyes. A shape of a majestic phoenix imprinted itself into his vision. When he blinked, he could still see the powerful image of Dranzer. He opened his eyes again to stare at the stolen bit-beast, as if it were an animal at a zoo on display for the public to see for their pure enjoyment.
Although they had not done very many tests on her yet, she already seemed weak. The first time they enclosed her in the container, she struggled, and nearly managed to break out. She screeched as loudly as she possibly could as the strange green liquid poured like acid rain upon her graceful form, and for the first three hours of being immersed in the substance, she swam around frantically, ramming her skull against the glass and clawing at it with all of the strength she possessed. Still, without the combined power of her owner, she could not escape.
Voltaire was still planning things out mentally, hence why he hadn't done anything to Dranzer yet. Oh, but he was an evil man… He smiled at his grandson's mythological companion.
"Don't you worry, my pretty," he cooed, tapping on the glass like an annoying child in an aquarium store, "you won't be bored for too much longer, I promise."
"Are you kidding?! How come you didn't tell us sooner?!" Hilary shrieked, balling her hands in her hair, thus making it stick out at funky angles.
"I'm sorry, okay? My first priority was going to Kai's aid," Tyson countered, trying to fend off the witch with an excuse.
"There's no reason you couldn't have called us, you know." The Chinese blader fiddled with his long braid, watching Kai intently, although he was basically talking to Tyson. Their team leader hadn't said a word since all of the Bladebreakers (plus Hilary) had arrived at his apartment an hour or so earlier. Tyson had called them, finally, after days of worrying about both of the team members' disappearances, and had given them directions about how to get to the specified building.
Max sat next to Tyson on the couch, and Kai was seated at the very end, beside the world champion. Hilary got to take up residence on the rickety kitchen stool; she caressed Isabella's head, who was sitting on the kitchen counter, as always. (Hilary gave Kai a lecture about how unsanitary it was for a domestic pet to be roaming on surfaces in kitchens, but when he didn't respond, she just sighed heftily and urged Tyson to continue with what had happened up to that point.) Kenny and Rei were both lounging on the floor, as they had nowhere else to sit.
"I know, I know… But things were hectic. How about you try tripping over what you think is a corpse and then try and call your friends!" Tyson rolled his eyes. "I was a bit preoccupied with the blood, and the concussion that Kai received. Plus, there's the fact that Kai's a very secretive person. Do you think he would have let me off the hook with just a couple of bruises if I spilled his beans to you guys? I mean, there was really nothing all of you could have done about it, anyway…"
"Well, you never know! We could have gotten Kenny to start investigating early." Max injected. The arguments continued for a good hour later. The sunlight sneaked across the cramped apartment as time passed.
Everyone piled out of the apartment. Rei, having earned his driver's license, had driven all of the team members to the apartment with the dojo's slightly rusted car. The tiger-like human suggested that they all drive back to the dojo, even if it was just for the time being.
"Kai, it'll be good for you to get out of this stuffy apartment. Trust me, I should know - I've been living with you here for the past few days - and I'm already going stir-crazy!" Tyson concluded, poking the silent teen in the chest, which earned him a "Hn."
Isabella was curled in Rei's cradling arms. Perhaps she was so relaxed because the Chinese beyblader was nearly like a feline himself. They all trudged to the elevator, chattering lightly (with the exception of the taciturn Russian). The group of young adults managed to squish into one elevator, and down they went.
Hilary and Rei were the first to step outside, closely followed by Max and Kenny. The parking lot was mostly full, and consisted of two levels. The driver with the cat led the group in the general direction of the dojo's car, which was parked on the first floor. Tyson jogged slightly to catch up with Max, and tapped his shoulder. The sparkly-eyed blonde stopped and looked at him inquiringly.
"I'll catch up with you guys in a sec, okay? I know where you guys parked, because Rei parked in my reserved spot." Tyson smiled kindly at his good friend, and the blonde smiled back, before jogging to catch up with the others. They were quite far away by now.
Tyson waited for Kai to catch up, and turned to stop him from continuing. He was surprised to find a hand on his shoulder.
"Tyson, look." Kai's voice was hoarse from lack of use. His gaze trailed off into the distance, perhaps to analyze the thick, concrete pillars that supported the upper level of the parking lot, but they would not rest on Tyson's tanned face. "…I owe you for everything you've done. …Thanks."
Kai was slightly surprised when Tyson wound his arms around the other, drawing him close in an appreciative hug. Unsure of what he was doing, the nonchalant young adult coordinated his paler arms to hold on to the other. It was nice, he admitted, but a bit awkward… Somehow, it felt like more than a hug. And he was right.
He glanced into Tyson's incredible, storm-filled eyes for only a split second, and was instantly drawn into them. He cursed himself for falling into the other's devious trap. It went against every rule he had created.
Tyson analyzed Kai's crimson irises, letting his eyelids droop a little. The Russian's face was so perfect… he found himself being drawn inwards like there was some magnetic force at work, tilting his head to the side… He was close enough to just pressing his lips to Kais'…
Oh, but he knew he had made a terrible mistake when a strong set of arms roughly shoved him away like he was repulsive. A shocked expression crossed Tyson's face, as he stared back at his best friend, analyzing him questioningly. Kai seemed… terrified? It was written in his eyes, all over his face, in his body language… Tyson didn't understand. It was a rare sight for their team captain to display any sort of emotion, so this sudden discovery was a bit much for either teenager.
"Kai, I'm so sorry… So sorry I did that… I didn't mean for that to happen..!" Tyson backed away, nearly out of breath, his eyes wide with a new terror that nearly mirrored the Russian's.
"Sorry…" The Japanese world champion whispered, bowed deeply in regret, then pivoted on his foot and bolted away, his hair shadowing his face. Within half a minute, Tyson's retreating form had disappeared amongst all of the other shaded cars.
Kai stood immobile. He was confused, terrified, and upset… But he wasn't angry with Tyson. He was angry with himself.
Just as Kai took a step forward, a hand with a cloth covered his face from behind. He struggled with all of the strength he knew, his terror doubling. He tried to yell for help, to call for Tyson, but the cloth captured most of the sound.
He could not continue trying to escape; his body was becoming weaker, limper; his mind was becoming foggy with unconsciousness.
Knocked out cold for what seemed the umpteenth time, Kai met pavement. His lifeless form was hauled up and carried away.
YES! DONE! Phew, almost four in the morning… I'm tired. I'm sorry if this chapter wasn't too good, but hopefully, it was!
I know this chapter is a bit shorter than my other ones. I apologize.
And no, Kai isn't dead. Just thought I'd let you know, to keep the flames at a minimum. ;)
Stay tuned for the next chapter, and PLEASE REVIEW!
Phoenix Roar
EDIT: Heh, apparently the updated version of doesn't like the word "wouldn't"! xD Oh well, it's fixed now. Happy reading!