Here's a track you can listen to on YouTube while you read this:

Cristofori's dream, by David Lanz

It was nobody's fault. Not as far as I can see.

But why do we all feel like we were the ones to blame?

They told us it was an accident. But I guess we're in denial. Because none of us - none of us that were there - can shake the guilt.

Maybe if we'd been faster. Maybe if I'd stopped to see if he was behind me. Or maybe if we'd not been there in the first place. But it's done. We can't bring back what we lost.

It was just a normal day in Japan in the winter time; DeMorae and I had gone to visit Kyouya and Benkei there because we'd never seen snow before. It was Benkei's idea really. But we were excited all the same.

So Benkei had said that he and Kyouya were going to show us around Metal Bey City; Kyouya was never enthusiastic about these kinds of things, but he had allowed himself to be dragged along all the same. So there we were, just in the streets of Metal Bey City, exploring like the 4 senseless teenagers we were.

Kyouya was only fooling around when he said we should check out some of the abandoned buildings downtown. It could have happened to any group, but there we were, and fate chose us that day.

What could it hurt? We were bladers. We were strong and we got really far in the World Championships. We felt like we were ready to face anything. We were wrong.

It was a tall building, about 17 stories or so, an old office building that had long been abandoned. Kyouya and Benkei said they hadn't any idea why. But in any case, it was an explorer's playground. And so there we went.

It was fun for awhile. Crossing beams and stepping across perhaps unsteady floors - we were lucky they didn't come crashing down under our weight. But soon we got tired of the activity and after checking out the 13th floor, we decided to go find dinner at one of the cafes nearby.

There was one last thing we had wanted to accomplish there, though. We wanted to have a rooftop battle. That was the thing; if only we hadn't done that we may have all gone out for dinner after all, and we'd still be a team of four today. But as it so happened, we did, and we didn't, and now we just...aren't.

It was DeMorae's turn, and he chose to battle Kyouya. He wanted to battle on the big platform in the right corner of the roof, up on top of some of the big pipes going down into the rest of the building.

Beybattles stir up heat, from the friction in the tips, especially if it's not on a designated surface like a platform on a roof. Or, as it turns out, a gas line cover.

Nobody had cleaned out the gas pipes when the building was abandoned, and so the story tells itself. Kyouya and DeMorae built up so much friction that the platform went up in flames.

We all just stood there for a minute, honestly, once DeMorae and Kyouya had jumped off the platform to the other edge of the roof where me and Benkei were. And then Benkei yelled, "Run, the fire will spread quickly through the gas lines!" And so we ran.

Did I mention how old this building was?

Every bit of that structure was like a piece of dry tinder, ready to be lit by the slightest thought of a match. The fire spread over the entire roof once we were out, and as we ran down flight after flight of stairs, I could feel the heat on my back, and I was in the front.

We could have gotten out. We were fast enough and we were strong enough; the building's path downwards was straightforward enough that we should have been to the bottom in time. But I guess a stair or two was missing, and a couple of us stumbled, slowing us down.

We got to the garage and it was already engulfed in flames. I could hear footsteps behind me. Now, looking back, I realise it was probably only two sets of footsteps by that time. But I didn't hear it until it was too late.

I could see the garage door open in the front of the room, and we burst out into the cold gasping and relieved. I turned around and Benkei and Demorae were already out.

For a moment of panic, Kyouya didn't appear. But then we saw him stumbling through the doorway in the back, tears cutting through the ashes on his face, coughing to no end. We were relieved to see him.

He didn't make it two steps before the garage collapsed.

I heard screaming and realised it was Demorae. Benkei was running back towards the building, and he barged his way through the flames just like a bull. He was the only one of us brave enough and quick-thinking enough to save Kyouya at a time like that.

I swear neither me or DeMorae breathed for the entirety of his absence. And then he burst back out in an entirely different spot with Kyouya bundled up in his arms, coughing. The thing that worried me, though, was that Kyouya wasn't coughing anymore. I had no other way to tell if he was still breathing.

Benkei fell on his knees on the sidewalk and Kyouya fell to the ground. Me and Demorae gathered around them, leaning over Kyouya, and he opened his eyes; I swear, if I've never admitted it to anyone else, I nearly cried right then and there.

He was reaching up his hands as DeMorae grabbed my cell phone from my hand and started to dial emergency services; and he looked up at ma and all he said was:

"Nile. Take care of the team for me, buddy."

And then he shut his eyes and I didn't want to believe it then, but I knew he'd never open them again.

The ambulance got there, but by then it was too late.

Since then we've brought Benkei back to Africa with us. He's too emotionally damaged to make it on his own.

It's like, any day now, we expect him to come walking through the kitchen door and yell at us and demand why we all left Japan without bringing him along, like he'd been alive and playing a joke on us all this time. But we know it's not going to happen.

Kyouya's gone, but he left this team in his place. He left us to carry on his blader's spirit. I could swear that every time we battle there's a little bit of lion strength in us, like he's still living on in our hearts.

And if you look at us battling that way, in all truth, you could say that that lion never died. I guess he's still here, and it's our responsibility to make sure that he's never forgotten.