Jeeze
Daichi's voice invaded Tyson's head—"You couldn't last five minutes alone with them!"—as he glanced shiftily at the corners of the elevator car, occupied by the four former Demolition Boys, with the wordless threat of being torn limb from limb circling vulture-like over his head.
Daichi had survived five minutes with them. Barely, if it'd been true… Tala'd reportedly dropped him on his head outside their hotel room and given him a goodbye kick.
So despite the very real possibility of injury, Tyson couldn't back down. He'd never hear the end of it. And since the elevator became stuck between floors four minutes earlier, he actually… couldn't back down.
Tyson had nothing to distract him from the silence that traditionally stretched out between the Russian beybladers. He'd have napped, but nerve-wracking certainty that whatever he did in this situation would be profoundly wrong stifled the sleep-inducing boredom.
Tala sawed at the
wires behind the button-console with Wolborg. The others stared at
Tyson like predators waiting for their injured prey to fall to the
ground so they could pounce. Tyson looked evasively at his watch,
clearing his throat of the cloying quiet. Six minutes and thirty
seconds… Beat that, Daichi...
A/N: Why is it I only ever have Tyson interacting with the Demo Boys on some kind of bet..?