Oi, its been a bit since I last updated, hasn't it? Well, as I plan on making this the second to last chapter, I'd like to thank MidnightEclipse15, SilentWhisper43, Goctyudicbdkvhb175749674, Risachan, and GalaxyPegasus14 for the reviews, and wish them luck in their future projects. Your support and advice has been much appreciated!

Expect a few cameo appearances!

. . .

Maybe God's willing to give a freebie once in a while.

Tsubasa sighed. It had been a week and a half since his 'little' incident with Kiddie Crime, and, quite honestly, he should have hauled &%* outta that hospital a long time ago. But his daughter was adamant on the subject, knowing he'd go back to stressing over paper work. It was probably punishment for pulling a "Gingka."

. . .

You know, rushing head-on into danger with no idea of what the ^&?# is actually happening. That, and she was furious about the condition of the scarf she had knit just for her father.

Women, ugh. Get yourself shot, they go into a mild panic. But get their needlework shot, oh, well, that's just a mortal sin.

No. Bad Tsubasa. Do not start thinking like that. One minute you're complaining about your daughter, the next you're addicted to yaoi fics.

Otori had seen it happen to a colleague, he refuses to go down that road.

. . .

The WBBA Prez walked outside the hospital, taking note of the taxis zipping past him, but never seeming to have the notion of stopping for an old man.

Looks like he'd be walking home.

Tsubasa scrunched his nose in disgust. He wasn't lazy, just on the mend from being shot. And three years away from his seventieth birthday. And home sweet penthouse was a good five miles away.

Just HAD to finally break his cellphone, didn't he? Had the same one for fourty years, never needed to replace it once. It even survived his daughter's todler and "daddy can I borrow the car" years. Then Tsubasa went and sat on it last week. (After hearing about how long the elder Otori had the thing, one of his grand kids joked about holding a funeral. Tsubasa seriously considered the idea.)

Back to getting home.

He didn't have any change for the hospital payphone, and the Prez just couldn't bring himself to ask a stranger to use their phone . . . Eh, at least was a beautiful day, and Tsubasa hasn't had any normal, non-hospital-sanitized air in a while.

The ex-blader meandered down the street, thinking about semi-random, and perfectly relevant topics alike: Should the company try to make a new type of metal for beyblades? Maybe an entirely new series of beys altogether? Something with dinosaurs this round? Should he send his two year-old niece a beyblade, or a set of crayons for her birthday . . .?

A chill forms in the wind, making Tsubasa wish his only piece of winter gear didn't have a hole, and fairly disturbing (permanent) blood stain on it.

. . .

Less than a few blocks away from home, The Eagle felt a sharp pain in his left arm. He winced, feeling it get deeper. Then he got a sensation like a knife plunging into his heart.

The WBBA President collapsed onto the sidewalk.

A teenager, dog yanking her towards the body, found him sprawled on the ground a few seconds later.

She called an ambulance.

She tried to see if he's breathing.

The paramedics arrived a few minutes later. They found a blonde girl with short pigtails and tear tracks on her face. It seems she's a blader, and at least knew of the man on the sidewalk. The medical team checked him for signs of life, and as suspected, find none.

The dog whined, ears flat against his skull.

. . .

"The President of the World Beyblade Battle Association died yesterday. He was found by teenager Hana Kazuma not far from his home. She called the paramedics, but it was apparently too late. The coroner pronounced Tsubasa Otori dead of a heart attack, which most likely killed him instantaneously. In other news . . ."

Kyoya gave a deep-throated sigh, which was more of a growl. He gently squeezed the hand of the little girl in the hospital bed next to him*, and turned off the TV.

Guess the bird-brain finally got his one-way ticket outta this dump.

A pitter-patter on the window caught Tategami's attention.

It's raining.

. . .

Yu yawned, rubbing his eyes. When he first got to heaven, an angel had asked him what form he would like to take. Yu was still a blue ball of floating light at that point, and more than slightly confused, so he asked what the winged creature meant.

"Most humans have a point in their live they would like to remember. A time when they did something great, or at least enjoyed themselves the most. Others simply just want to look young again. We let you decide."

Having a body straight from the old days? Back to when he could actually beyblade? Yu didn't have to think twice.

But before he could say anything, the angel smirked and yelled over the sparkling gate like a fast-food waitress ordering egg rolls.

"HEY! YOU WITH THE WINGS! TELL PETER I'LL NEED ONE GLORY DAYS WITH A SIDE OF NOSTALGIA!"**

Yu would have blinked in disbelief if he could. He settled for a ghostly sweat drop.

"Don't worry, sir. We'll have your order ready and fitted within the hour. Have a nice afterlife!" cherubim blew their horns, harps sounded, and the gates cracked open. Yu wonders what dying had gotten him into.

It had been years since that . . . rather odd . . . experience. Yu had met up with old friends, new ones, and gotten semi-used to the angels. (Not the easiest feat in the world, believe you me.) But Tendo missed one person in particular, though he felt sort of guilty about it.

I don't know if I should be ashamed of myself for wishing death on him, or what. Eternal happiness is eternal happiness either way. But when he does get here, I bet it'll be a heckova shock to see me like a kid again!

Yu inadvertently giggled, then waved as Gingka stalked by.

Heh, he'd been waiting forever for Kyo-yo to kick the bucket. Been itching for a battle ever since he got his hand back. Poor ol' Gingy was getting bored with the local competition, too. Hard to believe, considering he had Tyson and Kai as opponents.

The blond blader jumped to his feet, deciding to hang out at the gate again. The angels had gotten used to him, and his tendency to nickname anything that moved. They were friendly, and funny, but no replacement for the person Yu's looking for.

He cloud-jumped most of the way to Heaven's Gate, stopping only when he almost ran over Benkei.

"Still looking for Kyo-yo?"

The Bull simply nodded, mute from loneliness.

It seemed eternal peace had taken its toll on the goatee'd young man. After all these years, he was still worried the Lion would hate him for thinking, just for one second, that his time training Zyro and company was more important than being Kyoya's 'student.' The poor guy had asked the angels to switch his form back and forth a dozen times in half as many years.

Yu thought Hanawa didn't have enough faith in his friend, and Gingka simply said he'd never speak to, let alone battle, Kyoya again if he so much as hinted in that direction. Yu knew the redhead meant every word.

The Libra and Bull continue their trek towards the Entrance to Heaven. Neither thinking they can last another day without their loved ones by their sides.

. . .

Her father being the doctor from the previous chapter. You know, tall guy, black, dreadlocks in a huge ponytail? One of the few doctors on staff with enough guts to deal with Kyoya? Had a little Tategami fangirl in the hospital, who also happened to be in a coma?*

This particular angel has been at his job long enough to tell just from the way a soul floats what form they want to take.**