Songs of inspiration: American Pie and Blackbird

Well, well, well, aren't you people lucky. *Evil smirk.* But seriously, I've never updated this fast in my life. I must be in the mood to torture poor Tsubasa. Oh, well, the cuter they are . . .

. . .

BANG.

Tsubasa hears it before he feels it, but never sees it coming. Bet he does drugs.

The WBBA President faintly heard footsteps.

I absolutely refuse to believe I let myself get shot by a kid. I'm four times his age, and I let myself get shot by a petrified greenhorn. This is humiliating.

Tsubasa lies in a pool of his own blood for a few seconds, waiting for the blasted light to hurry up and shine down here already. He eventually opens his eyes to check exactly where he got plugged.

Shoulder, and a darn good three inches above his heart to boot. Oops. Wasted theatrics.

That's a wee bit embarrassing.

Gathering his few shreds of dignity, but still in a horrible amount of agony, Tsubasa climbed to his feet. Looking around dazedly, he saw the thief had left his plunder. Temporarily forgetting his dignity, and pain, Otori just gaped, feeling a mixture of disbelief and anger. Really, the kid shoots me and then just DROPS the stuff he nailed me for?

He knows he's going to be going to be psychiatrists for the next couple of decades because of this, right?

Ugh. Teenagers nowadays. Half a century ago, Kenta could have pulled off a better heist.

The white-haired gentleman groaned, clutching his shoulder, going pale. This was bad. Kid had missed the heart, but blood loss is also a perfectly legitimate way to meet one's end. Otori let himself sink to his knees-standing elevates blood pressure, a very, very bad thing in this situation.

He became vaguely aware of a police car pulling up to the curb.

"SHUNKI, Get yer &!# outta the car, we've got wounded! Oh dear God, It's the WBBA's President . . ." Great, things are going white, and it's not because I've got hair in my face.

Tsubasa passed out.

He wasn't in the mood to be pelted with questions anyways.

. . .

The Eagle wakes up an indeterminate number of hours later. "Kyo-yo" was by his side, not looking particularly worried. But, then, that's just Tategami. He pushes forward, and doesn't always pay too much attention to the people who fall by the wayside.

Eh, in all fairness, he had changed some over the years. Mellowed out a bit, seemed to be somewhat more willing to show he cares. Other than that, he's still a stubborn &!#. Wouldn't be Kyoya if he wasn't.

"Felt like playing nursemaid?"

Kyoya grunted.

Otori sighed.

He should be thankful that Kyoya at least visited. They'd never really known each other that well, even after all these years. But after Nile died . . . well, the green and grey-haired man started clutching at the few friends he had left.

"Did they say how long I have left or did the doctor figure dropping you in here would be enough for a complete recovery?"

Kyoya grunted.

Okay, so apparently Tsubasa was either going to live and Kyoya's in no mood for humor (as usual), or one of the doctors let it slip that he was terminal.

"Hikaru's in a coma."

Hm. No wonder he's become so silent. Poor man.

"I see."

"I'm going to outlive her."

Oh.

This isn't good.

Tsubasa didn't need a psych degree to figure out where this was going. The Lion kept going because Hikaru did. With Hikaru one step away from dead, he must be one step away from suicide.

"She's still alive."

"But I'm not." Tsubasa was a bit taken aback by this reply. It was, really, quite unexpected. Kyoya wasn't one metaphors, he hit you with a one-two punch of information, and didn't stop to cushion his words.

The Lion looks up, the light in eyes, once on fire with an almost animalistic passion, finally burnt out.

"I can't last much longer. Neither can she. But months the doctor said. Of her conscious. Nothing about a &^# $* COMA. I can't hear her voice, never will again in this life." Kyoya clenches his hands into fists, probably mulling over bad memories. "I can't even see her smile. She won't, CAN'T squeeze back when I hold her hand. Tell me now that my wife is alive." Otori starts to internally panic. This conversation was going south. Fast.

"And talking to Leone does nothing. I can only see him, feel him when one of the kids are battling. Then he goes right back in the glass case to collect dust."

Tsubasa hums in empathy, being in a similar situation himself.

I can't just let Kyoya give up. He's almost at the end of the road, and now he wants to jump in a river. What would Hagane do . . .?

A beat of tense silence later . . .

Bingo.

"Is this how you want Gingka to see you go out? Giving up? He payed his dues and did his time. He couldn't beyblade, either, if you remember. He was forced out before any of us, save Hikaru. I believe it was due to his hand being cut off ten years prior. It wasn't a particularly pleasant experience. You have nothing to complain about. We're on this Earth for as long as we're supposed to be. Hagane didn't give up, even with phantom pains dogging him for every last year of his life, what gives you the right to?"

Tsubasa knows there's only one valid excuse to this argument: Some people can't hang onto life just because of pride (and I'm one of them).

Kyoya would never, ever, play that card. He'd rather be stripped of every last strand of his dignity, beaten, and left for dead in an unforgiving desert sun. A true lion never lets go of his pride, and this one in particular had earned his stripes ten times over. He wouldn't just thrown them to the wind now.

"You sneaky son of a *&#:." Lion's sapphire eyes meet the Eagle's golden.

"That your only answer?" Checkmate.

"Yeah, I think it is." Kyoya stood up, probably to stalk away, but not before Otori sees a glimmer of determination return to the man's gaze.

. . .

The green-haired knucklehead hesitates just as he's about to go out the door.

"Thanks."

Tsubasa nods.

"Same here."

Kyoya looked at his friend quizzically, but shrugged, and continued on his path. Otori was always a puzzle, and he has other things to attend to, like polishing Leone. The old Lion's gonna hafta look good when he battles Pegasus in the hereafter.

. . .

HA! Tsubasa lives! So far, at least.

Edit- Whoops. Whole dang thing was in bold . . . Sorry, fixed it . . . ugh, need to pay attention to these things . . .

Edit 2- In case you're wondering what just happened, Tsubasa said thank you because up until now, he really didn't have much of a reason for living. Well, except for the whole "company reputation" thing. And that was obviously getting lower and lower on his personal agenda. They're sticking around because even through the hardest of times-Gingka losing a freaking hand, Madoka losing her husband, etc. they've stuck it out this far. It would be kind of a waste to not see things through the end.