Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade.
Chapter 2: April Showers
Max sat, silently reading and then re-reading the first two lines of text, almost dumbfounded by what he was getting himself into.
Pulling his eyes away from the page, he closed the journal around his index finger, and stared forward wondering what he should do next. Not only had he broken the time-honored code of privacy, he had gone against his own moral compass, and it was something that wasn't sitting well with his conscience.
Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was perhaps the only way he would ever, truly, understand the moody and restless Kai. Max knew, only briefly, that the older boy had spent some time at Balkov Abbey as a child, but not much else. He never talked about himself and chose instead, to remain indifferent and introverted, despite his team's best efforts to include him in everything they did.
Max thought back to the Abbey where they had visited only four years ago. Even back then, Max recalled how cold it had felt; its way of life, distant and foreign from its Moscow neighbors, almost like a completely separate division from the main city. He certainly hadn't envied the boys who lived there, and most of them appeared to be just as bitter and icy as their native homeland.
Brushing his hand across his face, Max cleared his throat and stared back down at the yellowed pages, his mind waging a small war against itself as whether to read on or not. Slowly opening the journal up again, he promised himself that he would only finish reading the first page and then close it for good. After that, it could go back in the closet, only to decay inside a dark box.
Inhaling deeply, Max licked his lips before setting his eyes back on Kai's small, crisp handwriting.
I have lived in the Abbey for seven years now, watching boys come and go, and waiting for my own chance to leave. However, I have slowly come to the painful realization that the only way one leaves the Abbey, is by beginning the process of desensitizing one's sense of self.
This journal is, perhaps, my last possible act of preserving myself entirely; for without it, I fear that they will break me, mold me and profile me into exactly what they desire - a humanoid machine, who's capabilities are that of near perfection, and is void of all personal feelings and desires.
It is the Abbey's job to produce boys of this caliber for the company that financially sustains it; a human testing facility designed to perfect and encourage what they deem "evolutionary". It's all very scientific, and I don't pretend to understand any of it. All I know are the facts.
The Abbey is broken into four main buildings, each made out of stone and concrete, and built with a specific purpose. The main house, or entrance, is where visitors are allowed to come and observe Balkov Abbey and its inner "procedures". Guests generally include prominent figures from other countries interested in buying a share of Balkov Abbey, or the ultra-rich who can afford to receive a guided tour of the facility. Sightseers and tourists are strictly forbidden, and guards, dressed in black, stand outside all doorways to ensure that this is enforced.
The second house, or barracks, contain over two hundred bedrooms and sixty-five classrooms. This is where we receive our education and spend our days when we're not training. We're each assigned one roommate with whom we must share our small, restricted space with and an attendant (whose sole job is to keep the barracks in a controlled, disciplined order).
The third building, or staff house, is just as it sounds, for the staff. None of us are allowed entry, except when it's time for physical examinations, (which are generally spaced between two and three months apart). Cameras are installed every six feet and the same guards that patrol the entrance, so too patrol the staff house.
And last is the fourth house, the dungeon. It is a training facility, a mortuary and a solitary confinement block. Unlike the rest of the buildings, it has no windows, no central heating and no electric lighting. Like a medieval meat locker it sits in the furthest corner of the expansive property, completely unseen from the Abbey's front gate. Most of the boys don't like going near it, but sometimes when I find myself alone, I like to climb and sit on top of the roof and take in the sights of a near, yet distant Moscow.
Often, I catch myself staring at the bright and colorful tiers of Saint Basil's Cathedral just visible over the large cement fence of our compound. I have never seen the cathedral in its entirety, but I often picture it bathed completely in gold as the sun hits the domes at sunset. Sometimes, when I imagine hard enough, I can almost feel the warm rays splash across my face. It's these few, allotted moments that are my best kept secrets and are part of my fondest memories.
Max's eyes widened as he came to the end of the page, his thoughts buzzing around his head like a swarm of hornets. Hundreds of questions instantly began manifesting, and the more he tried to dissuade them, the more he thought up.
Snapping the journal closed, Max drew in a deep breath and looked down at the blue shoe box next to his feet. He knew what he had to do, but it pained him slightly as he looked at the photograph of the woman smiling up at him. How long would it be until she saw the light again? Picking up the snapshot in his hand, Max studied her face and wondered who she was, and what ever became of her. Her dark eyes sparkled up at him and he couldn't explain it, but he suddenly felt very sorry for her. Like all of Kai's other memories, she had been locked away and completely forgotten about, left to collect dust until someone dug her out.
Placing the lid back on and fastening down the grey duck tape, Max turned to set the box back in its appropriate place. Affirming that this was the right thing to do, he placed it back in the corner that he had found it and slowly shut the closet door.
Walking into his and Takao's bedroom, he found his best friend emptying out their own closet, though his method of cleaning was a bit messier and unorganized. A trail of items followed Takao from where he now sat, to every place that he had moved to and from.
Max put a hand to his mouth, trying to stifle a laugh.
Stiffening in surprise Takao turned and gave the blonde a grin. "Geez Max," he said rubbing the back of his head "you almost gave me a heart attack."
"I'm sorry," Max chuckled as he sat down on the end of his bed. "I just thought the point of this spring clean was to, you know, clean?"
The two looked around the cluttered bedroom before bursting into a fit of laughter.
"So I'm not a maid," Takao said, shrugging his shoulders. "But just look at all this
useless junk I found! 'Course most of it's mine," he added with a sheepish smile, while rummaging around in a plastic organizer. "Look, I found all of my old comic books, a sweet collection of action figures, and the video tapes you and I made."
"Hey, yeah," Max said, joining Takao on the carpeted floor and folding his legs Indian-style. "We made those right before going into high school."
"God, my handwriting hasn't improved at all," Takao stated, raising an eyebrow as he pulled out a tape and squinted at the title. "Can you read that?" He turned the recording over in his hand, and flashed the unrecognizable scrawl to Max.
"No way. If you can't read it, what makes you think I can?"
Takao laughed, carefully placing the video tape back in the container. "So what about you? Find anything interesting while cleaning out the hall closet?"
Max froze for a brief moment, his mouth instantly beginning to taste like cotton. He puckered his lips while mulling his thoughts over. Slowly, he started shaking his head, smiling a bit weakly. "No, just some old clothes, and a couple of board games."
"Sheesh, sounds dull. Guess I got the better space to clean after all."
Max rubbed the back of his neck, a nagging uneasiness coming over him. "Yeah," he agreed, goosebumps starting to spread down his arm. "I guess you did."
For the rest of the day, Max couldn't help but notice that his world had turned into a darkened haze. Colors seemed more monotonous, and he felt as though his head was stuck inside a very long tunnel, as he heard only half of what Rei had said to do with the filled up boxes. His situation didn't improve with Kai's return home from school either.
In an attempt to not say anything stupid or suspect, Max decided to shut himself up in his room, saying he wasn't particularly hungry as dinner was being served. This was, of course, a complete lie and as he sat on his bed fiddling with a flyaway thread from his comforter, his stomach gave a loud and acidifying complaint.
Grimacing slightly, Max grabbed his cellphone out of his back pocket and flipped the cover open to read eight forty-five emblazoned in electric-blue lighting.
Sighing, he shut his phone and placed it on his night stand. Going to bed would be next to impossible at this hour and as his stomach gave another sorrowful grievance, Max wondered just how much longer he could stave off his peevish appetite before starving to death.
Another hour passed before Takao returned to the room, his jeans fitting a bit more snug around his waist than they had a few hours ago. His cheeks were slightly flushed and the corners of his mouth were turned upward, creating a long and satisfied grin. "Max, where were you?" He asked, pulling out his pajamas from his newly organized dresser drawer. "You missed out on curry bread and rice for dinner."
The younger boy felt his stomach drop even further into his intestines at Takao's words. He mentally tried to shake off the visions of dancing curry donuts above his head, as he faked a nonchalant attitude towards his roommate. "I've just got a bit of tummy ache," he lied, putting his head down on his goose feather pillow, his abdomen gargling obscenities loudly.
Takao raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, sounds like it. I'm sorry man." He shook his head and gave a sympathetic glance in Max's direction, before taking off his shirt and changing into his striped cotton button-up. "I hope you get better in time for class tomorrow, buddy. It won't be the same without you."
Feeling another wave of guilt wash over him, Max turned over and stared at the opposite wall. First the journal and now lying, how many more acts of depravity could he pit against his morals today?
Hearing Takao pulling back his covers and getting into his bed, Max reached a hand up and flicked off the switch to the overhead light, instantly blanketing the two in darkness.
"Well, good night, Max."
"Night, Takao …"
Watching the street lights flicker and make shapes across the blank wall, Max could at last feel his mind settling into a carefree state that he hadn't had all afternoon.
Slowly he began to feel his eyelids beginning to droop, and he stretched out on his back, watching the glow-in-the-dark stars that covered the ceiling, give off a faint hue of green as the room became darker.
With each minute, he could hear Takao's breathing becoming deeper and deeper, a sure sign that he was about to doze off completely. Max's mind flitted in and out of Kai's journal entry, his words still echoing throughout his conscience. And the woman in the photo …
"Takao," Max said suddenly, breaking the nighttime silence. "Are you still awake?"
Takao shifted, before flopping over onto his stomach, making his sheets rumple around his legs. "Mmhmm," he replied faintly, a small snore escaping his mouth.
Max bit his lip and turned to face Takao. Knowing he wouldn't have the courage in the morning, he closed his eyes and swallowed.
"… I have something I need to tell you."