Routine. It was what 24-year-old Hilary Tachibana was accustomed to day in and day out. She would wake up in the morning, have a quick breakfast, head to the BBA building, finish an eight hour work day, return from work, have a simple dinner and then go to bed. Though it seemed easy enough and, oftentimes, a bit wearing, Hilary didn't mind going through this routine every day, if only it meant she could do it with the one she loved. Her 24-year-old boyfriend, Tyson Granger was always there when she awoke each morning, he would always have breakfast with her, call her periodically throughout her busy workday, if only to say that he loved her, then he would have dinner with her, then curl up next to her and gently lull her to sleep.
The two had known each other since they were classmates and had travelled together throughout various countries until about the age of 19, when Tyson had finally realized his dream of best Beyblader in the whole world. They had always shared a strong bond with one another, but had always denied the fact that there was something more between them. It wasn't until an open-ended threat from their friends finally pushed Tyson to tell Hilary how he truly felt in a stuttered sort of confession.
Since then, everything had been bliss. He loved her and she him and neither could imagine life without the other beside them. However, on this day, their routine and their lives would change forever.
Tyson paced their living room nervously in an anxious anticipation of what was to come. He had waited months thinking up the right way to ask her the important question. Everything needed to be perfect; he simply would not settle for less because, he knew, she deserved it all.
Running a hand through his short blue hair, he distractedly threw a hand in his pocket. Upon feeling the soft velvet box, a small smile crept to his lips as he pulled it out carefully. It was a small navy blue box that fit snugly within the palm of his hand, almost as if it had been made just for him. But, he knew, the contents of the box were for one person and one person only. He flicked the lid of the box open and smiled again at the sight of the perfectly chosen diamond ring sitting atop a silk navy pillow, the color of the diamond sparkling against its' dark background. Tyson lifted the ring from its place in the box and examined it closely. He had picked it out nearly five months ago, the only thing holding him back being his nerves.
But today was different, today would finally be the day he would ask Hilary to marry him. Tyson glanced back down at the ring despondently and sighed.
"I know, I-I'm just…what if she says no?" he stuttered, thinking of all the negative things that could happen.
Hilary sighed as she happily clocked herself out, glad that the work day was finally over. Her feet were killing her and all she wanted to do was have a quick dinner then curl up in bed next to Tyson. Her stomach growled unexpectedly and she placed a hand over it in an attempt to quiet it but, instead a smile small crept to her lips. Looking down, she had started to notice the small tell-tale signs of a bulge that she had never had in the past.
The past couple of weeks, Hilary had had her suspicions, but did not dare voice them aloud for fear of what it could lead to. Now, almost six weeks later, the doctor had confirmed what she had so strongly believed in from the start of her suspicions.
She couldn't wait to tell Tyson and, with this thought in mind, briskly scanned her card through the turnstile, Hilary easily found her train, hopped on, and surveyed her surroundings carefully. The train seemed more packed than normal and she wondered why so many people had decided to use the train that day. Shrugging the thought aside, however, she went in search of a seat for the ride home. Struggling through the crowds, she finally found an open window seat near a young man about her age. His faced was buried in a magazine, his brown locks covering his eyes and he barely regarded Hilary with a light nod when she politely asked if the seat was taken.
"Thanks," she said gratefully, getting settled in the less than comfortable seat. She set her pack on her lap and gazed out the window at the other passengers awaiting passage to the train.
It was then she noticed that the young man next to her kept throwing her strange side-glances, as if he recognized her. Feeling terribly uncomfortable under his gaze, she straightened up and continued to stare out the window as the train slowly pulled away from the station.
"You look familiar," said the young man, his head tilted to one side.
Hilary, realizing that he was talking to her, turned to look at him in full. He had dark brown hair set in a messy pile atop his head and long bangs covering his eyes. Through the hair though, she could see his beautiful piercing blue eyes gazing back at her in an odd sort of curiosity. His attire consisted of baggy dark blue jeans, a black loose fitting t-shirt, and a small hoop earring situated on his left ear. The young man was neither scrawny nor incredibly built, but he seemed to produce a wave of anxiety about her.
Besides all that, he didn't look all that familiar to her.
"I don't think we've ever met," she admitted politely.
"Not in person anyways," he answered gruffly and shoved his magazine in her plain view so that she was face to face with a picture of her and Tyson at some recent public event.
Hilary's face instantly paled and a small blush came to her cheeks as she smiled nervously at the young man.
She never had liked the attention her and Tyson received when they were out in the public eye and her facial expression only served to prove her uneasiness. She was tired, hungry, and wanted nothing more than to get home to Tyson. The last thing she wanted was to be hounded by complete strangers asking for pictures of the World Champion and interviews about how it was like to live with the legend.
"Shh…" she smiled nervously, bringing a finger up to her lips to accentuate her point.
The man chuckled lightly, pulling the magazine away from her and folding it in front of him.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," he replied, receiving a relieved smile from Hilary.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, before extending her hand to him, "My name's Hilary by the way…but, I guess you already knew that," she finished embarrassedly.
He accepted her hand and gave her a small smile, "The name's Mark, it's a pleasure Hilary. So, where are you off to this evening?"
"Home," she sighed gratefully.
"I know that feeling," he said, imitating her sigh, "You work as the Manager at the BBA, right?"
"Yes, that's right."
"You like it?"
"I love it!" she exclaimed, "Though it is a bit wearing, I love every minute of it. I just love being able to be around and interact with all the famous bladers day in and day out. Interact with the new kids. Its so amazing."
Mark chuckled at her enthusiasm, "Seems like you really enjoy it."
"I do," she smiled truthfully, "What is it you do?"
"I'm just a journalist owning a small column at the local newspaper," he explained before revealing a beyblade of his own, "You could say, your boyfriend is kind of like my idol. He inspired me to become a beyblader as well."
Hilary giggled at his sincerity, "Well, I don't know about idol, but he definitely has his shining moments I suppose."
"Of course you can say that. You've known each other since you were kids and you live with him," Mark exasperated, trying to express just how incredible it must have been to be traveling around with a beyblader of such natural talent at such a young age.
"You sound jealous. Would you like to live with him? I'm sure he won't seem all he's cracked up to be once you see what a slob he can be sometimes. And the snoring! Don't even get me started!" she joked, leaning her head against the glass of the window.
"Hey, I said nothing about living with the guy. Let's get one thing clear, I'm as straight as an arrow okay? No matter how hot he was rated in last month's cover magazine 'ten hottest men in Tokyo,'" he stated matter-of-factly, folding his arms in front of him.
"Oh really? And what exactly was that rating?" smirked Hilary.
"Number three…" Mark muttered, ashamed that he was revealing such an embarrassing fact that he had, accidentally, come across.
Hilary burst out into a fit of hysterics, her sides cramping up as she did so.
"I never knew my boyfriend was considered hot by anyone but me. And it is kind of funny how you knew about his rating and I didn't," she smiled, her giggles finally subsiding.
"Don't you read? He's in practically every magazine that gets published! He's famous!" he beamed incredulously.
Hilary only rolled her eyes playfully.
"Oh please, he-"
But she was cut off by the sound of the train's horn blaring loudly from the outside. She looked out the window, perplexed.
"That's weird," commented Mark, leaning over towards her window and peering out, "We're not due for a stop for at least ten more minutes."
Hilary only nodded at him, "Maybe it's an emergency."
"Maybe…" he replied, unconvinced.
Mark's suspicions, however, were confirmed when he saw the lights of what seemed to be another train far off in the distance just around the next bend heading in their direction.
"There must be another track next to us," supplied Hilary, sounding very unconvinced.
Mark peered out the window further, looking down at the ground while doing so. What he saw made his eyes widen with fear, but he kept his cool as to not panic Hilary and those around him.
'There's no track on this side…this is the only track…' he thought gravely.
"Mark? Mark, what's wrong?" asked Hilary, noticing that he had gotten pale and quiet.
"Th-That train…it's-it's on our track," he stuttered, reminding himself to breathe.
"What?!" she exclaimed, looking down at the ground frantically.
It was true; there was no track where she had thought the other train would pass by. She looked up at the train and noticed its' lights getting bigger and bigger. By this point, other passengers had started to notice and stare out the windows, wondering about the other train as well. Some were starting to panic at the realization of what was about to happen and others started screaming for the train to stop, as if it would help to stop the disaster that was now imminent.
Hilary finally pried her eyes away from the other train and sat back in her seat, her eyes closed. This couldn't be happening. It had to be some sort of dream that she would wake up from. She felt the familiar sting of tears come to the corners of her eyes and a strong tightness constrict the inside of her throat. She wouldn't cry, refused to! Not in front of all these strangers…
"Hilary," she looked up at the sound of her name and watched as Mark gripped her shoulders and gave her a stern look, "We'll make it. I promise."
And it was just what she needed to hear to bring a sad smile to the corners of her lips. It had sounded like such a Tyson thing to say and, all at once, she instantly wished he was there. She wanted him there to hold her, comfort her, kiss her, and tell her that everything would be alright. Instead, she would have to settle for the kindness of a complete stranger that seemed dead set on keeping her safe.
"I-I want Tyson…" she whispered hoarsely, barely loud enough to hear.
Mark only nodded at her, almost wishing that his hero was there himself. Perhaps, he would know what to do…
"Well, until we get you back to him, I'm gonna have to do for now," he reassured, trying to lighten the mood but failing miserably.
She gave him a small smile and a light nod of the head.
By this time, people were well aware of what was going on and could feel the brakes skidding against the solid steel of the tracks. They were hopeful yet frantic at the same time. People were screaming, crying, and bracing themselves for the impact to come. Hilary knew no matter how hard she tried to forget about it, lives would be lost today, children would lose parents, husbands would lose wives, and hundreds of stories would come crashing to a halt in a matter of seconds.
"We need to brace ourselves," warned Mark, peeking out the window once more to better gauge the distance between their train and the oncoming train.
Hilary nodded again and crouched low on the floor, trying to make herself as small as physically possible. She placed her hands over the back of her neck and it wasn't until Hilary heard the crying of a young baby that she remembered the small life growing within her. She wanted to cry for her unborn child, apologize to it for putting it in such danger, and just pray and hope that they would make it through this alive.
It was then she felt a light pressure on her back and chanced a peek. Mark was covering her body as best he could to prevent any possible debris from causing her harm and stayed ever alert to the oncoming train.
"You ready?" he asked, grabbing the chair behind him and spreading his legs to give him better traction upon impact.
"Yeah," Hilary whispered back, closing her eyes and awaiting the crash.
The last thing she remembered was the screaming and crying of people in terror and then the eerie silence that ensued before she blacked out.
Tyson looked at the clock for what seemed like the one-hundredth time that evening.
It was 8:01 pm, only five minutes had passed since the last time he had checked it, as the time continued to roll by at a dismal rate. He sighed, getting up out of his seat on the couch and looked out to his front yard. He was greeted only by the darkening streets and the flickering of the street lights that always illuminated the street at around that time.
"She should have been here an hour ago," he mused, "I can't even reach her phone. Just voicemail. Man, this is really worrying me up." He bit distractedly as he watched yet another car pass by his house.
He could feel in his heart Hilary was coiled into some trouble. She was very punctual and even if she was late, she would always call. She would never voluntarily want to worry him.
Tyson ran a nervous hand through his hair and turned away from the window, knowing that staring out into the deserted street would do him no good. Instead, he picked up the receiver to his video phone and punched in a few numbers.
"I'll call her assistant. Maybe she had to stay later," he thought simply, hoping upon hope that Hilary was still at work.
However, thirty minutes into his search and Hilary still was nowhere to be seen.
"Sorry Tyson, but she hasn't dropped by here. Is something wrong?" replied Hilary's mother sorrowfully.
"No nothing, mother. Please don't get concerned. If you get a call from her, please let me know." He sighed, trying his best not to pass his distress to his mother-in-law.
"Will do. You let us know too if you hear from her," she nodded.
Tyson gave her a light nod and the two hung up.
So, she wasn't at work, she didn't visit her mother, she wasn't at any of their friends, and she wasn't answering her phone. She had completely and utterly disappeared.
He was quickly overtaken by worry and frustration for her and stood suddenly when the channel he was watching was disrupted by a news flash. Tyson gasped at what he saw. He frantically turned up the volume to better hear the news reporter and try to gain some kind of understanding on what exactly was going on.
"If you're just joining us, we're broadcasting live where a horrific accident occurred here just over an hour ago," announced the reporter as the scene changed to that of what seemed to be a train wreck. Her voice continued to blare as the camera man surveyed the scene, "We're at the tracks separating Kasuga and Hongo-Sachome where train A12 was bound towards Tokyo Central…"
"Wait… that's the train…" Tyson trailed off, his heart thumping as he tried to organize his thoughts and calm himself. "Hilary always came home on," he suddenly thought, worry rushing to the surface. Tyson's ears perked up as the reporter continued.
"Several eye witnesses said they claimed to have seen the two trains on the same track heading in opposite directions, however, an ongoing investigation will ultimately decide the cause of the crash," she continued, sighing, "Medics, firefighters, and law enforcement will be working around the clock to try and free any of the trapped survivors and try and get all those injured to the nearest hospitals."
The scene flickered once again to the destroyed train. It was lying on its side, about fifty feet away from the tracks, scrap metal and debris everywhere. Firefighters and police were atop the massive train hastily digging through the endless debris to try and find any survivors.
"This truly is a sad day in Japan's history. If you believe someone you know may have been on that train, you can call the number on the screen. Many of the victims are being transferred to nearby hospitals as the injured and death count continue to rise. We thank you for joining us at this time and we will continue to keep you updated on sudden changes in the…"
Tyson dropped the remote suddenly, ignoring the last words of the reporter. His heart dropped and he felt a sickening feeling come to the pit of his stomach. That was Hilary's train…he just knew it. It would explain her being late, her absence of phone calls, and the inability to get a hold of her. He clenched his fists together and closed his eyes, feeling the familiar sting of tears reaching his deep brown eyes.
This couldn't be happening. He wouldn't believe it…refused to believe it until he saw it for himself.
"What if….what if Hilary was on that train?" he breathed, feeling the lump in his throat constrict his breathing. A sudden jolt of realization struck him and he dashed away for the door, at a pace that he never used.
"Hilary! Hilary, can you hear me?"
She could hear the voice, though it sounded a little strained as if he were in pain. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't will herself to open her eyes. It was all too painful. Every bone, muscle, and joint hurt to move and she found it might have been much easier if she just went to sleep…but the sickening taste of blood in her mouth caused her to cough and splutter for air.
"Hilary, stay with me you hear?! I told you-I promised you I'd get you out of here! Don't make me a liar! What about Tyson?!"
That did it. At the sound of her boyfriend's name, Hilary's mind opened once more, though she still couldn't bear to open her eyes or even speak. Instead, she let out a tiny groan, if only to let him know that she was still alive. How she had survived though she would never know.
"Please, I need help over here! She needs help!" yelled the male voice again.
Hilary groaned again at the loudness of it and tried to roll over, but found she couldn't.
"Don't try to move, you're hurt badly," the voice warned as she heard footsteps quickly approaching them.
"Get her pulse and BP stat!" announced a female voice, as Hilary sensed several people kneel down next to her.
"Miss! Miss! Can you hear me?" asked an unrecognizable male voice, as he pressed lightly against her neck and wrapped a cuff around her arm.
Hilary groaned in response, hoping that would appease them.
"Let's get a stretcher in here and get her inside the ambulance!" announced the female once more.
"Ma'am, pulse has dropped to 50 and BP is steady at 100 over 60!" came the first voice.
Hilary couldn't take it. She needed to know exactly what was going on. So, ignoring the pain in her body, she slowly and carefully opened her eyes to be met with several pairs staring back at her.
"Miss, we're going to be taking you to the hospital in Ochanomizu. We won't know what's wrong until we get there," explained the female medic.
Wait, medic, Hilary thought. Why were there medics surrounding her? What happened? Why was there…Then, it all came back to her like a bad dream she wished she could awake from.
The train, people screaming and crying…how could she have forgotten?
"Oh my god…do you know who that is?" whispered one of the male medics.
Hilary could feel their eyes on her as they whispered to each other and could only assume they had recognized her from some photo or something of that nature. She closed her eyes again, if only to relieve herself of the oncoming headache racking her system.
"That's Tyson Granger's girlfriend!" an onlooker shouted before the medic had a chance to respond.
Hilary just inwardly groaned at that and wanted nothing more than to sleep and, hope, that when she woke up it was all just a bad dream.
"It doesn't matter who she is, we need to get her to the hospital now!" came the female medic's voice, obviously the voice of authority.
Just then, she could feel several people lifting her off of the ground and placing her on a stretcher. They strapped her in snuggly and proceeded to wheel her to the awaiting ambulance.
"I'm coming too," protested a young man's voice, who Hilary could only presume to be Mark.
"Sir, your arm-"
"Its fine, it can be fixed at the hospital," he argued.
The medic nodded at him and, with that, placed Hilary's battered body in the back of the ambulance as Mark hopped aboard, nursing his bleeding arm. The siren roared to life and blared loudly, as the truck zoomed down the street and away from the wreckage…
Tyson could see it as plain as day now. The turned over train, medics tending to the dead and wounded, the horde of officers working diligently to recover any more lives, and the endless amount of volunteer citizens that were now digging through the rubble…
He was at a complete loss for words. Never had he seen such a scene. It was terrible. People were screaming and crying for their loved ones. Others were helping the police dig through the debris to find passengers that may still be alive, while others still, consoled those who had lost friends or family.
"Excuse me sir, this area is off—Oh, Mr. Granger! I didn't know that was you. My apologies sir!" corrected an officer, saluting him.
Tyson ignored him and swiftly went in search of the only person that mattered. The policeman followed him, his clipboard in hand.
"Sir, I can't allow you to…"
Tyson stopped walking and clenched his fists together, trying his best to keep his composure.
"My girlfriend was on that train…" he muttered, as the officer looked taken aback, his eyes wide, and at a loss for words. Sensing this, he continued, "I need to know if she…"
But he couldn't finish his sentence and merely trailed off, looking down at the ground.
"We-We'll try and track her down for you sir b-but, those who have already been found have been transported to various hospitals around the area. However, because of the situation, we haven't been able to record who has and hasn't been found yet," he explained softly, unsure if this is what he really wanted to hear.
"S-So…if she has been found, there's no way of knowing what hospital-"
At that moment, a loud jingling could be heard from the confines of Tyson's pocket. He distractedly pulled his cell phone from his pocket and perked up when he saw the name on the caller ID.
Hilary Tachibana calling…
He felt like all the spirits had restored in his body. He quickly opened it and almost shouted into the phone.
"Hil, where are you?! What happened?!"
"I-Is this Mr. Tyson Granger…?" came a hesitant male's voice.
Hearing the voice, he pursed his lips in confusion while Tyson simply held the phone, unsure of who this mysterious person was and how he had Hilary's phone.
"Who the hell is this?" he asked harshly.
"Mr. Granger…Hilary's with me at the Kyoundo Hospital."
At this Tyson's heart rate escalated and he gripped the phone even tighter.
"What?! Is she okay?! What's going on?!" he rambled into the phone.
"She's in stable condition now, but she suffered a lot of internal bleeding and they're prepping her for surgery now. I don't-"
But the phone went dead.
"Hello! Hello, are you there?!"
Tyson looked to his phone to be met with…
Call lost…
"Damn it!" Tyson bit, hurrying for the car.
Mark, a sling now holding his broken arm in place, paced the waiting room of the hospital anxiously. His head was throbbing from the stitches that had been given to him only moments ago, but he found it difficult to concentrate on that.
He stared at the object in his hands loathingly. Of course the damn phone just had to go out! Those stupid things were never reliable when you most needed them, he thought angrily. Sighing, however, he only wished he had given the Champion as much information before it had gone dead.
Just then, a commotion from outside stirred him from his thoughts. He peered out of the double doors and noticed, what seemed to be, hundreds of reporters being held at bay by several police officers while a young man pushed his way past the crowds.
The electric doors opened and in walked his idol and the person with whom he had been speaking to only moments ago. He gaped at him, mouth open, as he briskly walked into the hospital, eyes scanning the area for the nearest doctor. Worry and fear were etched on his normally calm face did its best to comfort him.
He watched as Tyson Granger walked up to the reception desk and placed both hands atop it, getting the attention of the nurse working there.
"Hilary Tachibana," he stated sternly. "Please see if she's been admitted her."
The nurse faltered for a bit at the harshness of the voice and stuttered nervously, "Ty…Mr. Granger! I uh…hold on please."
She filed through her paperwork haphazardly and finally pulled the correct file. Flipping through its pages, she quickly skimmed over its contents.
"She's in surgery as we speak," she explained before continuing, feeling the heated gaze of the young man upon her, "Um…she's suffered a lot of internal bleeding and a possible collapsed lung. There are also signs she's endured a grade two concussion."
At hearing this, Tyson closed his eyes and rested his elbows on the desk, running his hands through his messy hair.
"Is-Is she going to be okay?" he whispered so softly the nurse almost missed it.
"I-I don't know sir…I'm sorry. We probably won't know anything until after the surgery," she sighed, replacing the file back into the stack on her desk, "I'll alert the doctor that you're here, sir."
Tyson didn't even bother to respond. Instead, he trudged over to the nearest seat and plopped himself down heavily. He leaned his elbows against his knees and held his head in his hands, eyes closed shut.
He wanted to stay positive, to believe that she would make it through this alive. But one look at the destruction the collision had caused, and he knew it wasn't that simple.
"I just…feel so helpless. She must have been so…alone and scared and I couldn't do a damn thing about it," he muttered angrily, feeling his tears coming on. "I told her….I told her so many times…don't take a job at the BBA. She wouldn't listen…Who am I kidding? I should have been there with her. This wouldn't have happened if we just came home together…If I hadn't received that call…"
That's right. He had almost forgotten about the mysterious person who had informed him of Hilary's arrival at the hospital. He had been so distracted by everything else, he had completely forgotten. However, before he had time to contemplate this, he saw movement from his right and turned his head to be met with a young man about his age.
"Uhh…Mr. Granger…?"
Tyson raised an eye at the man who was nervously looking at him and fiddling with something in his pocket. The voice sounded vaguely familiar and yet Tyson couldn't place the man's face in his memory.
"I'm sorry but…have we met?"
Mark gave him a sad smile, "Not in person," he responded, repeating the exact phrase he had given Hilary when he had first met her, "My name's Mark and…well, I'm the one that called you."
Tyson gasped at the sudden realization. Of course! That's why the voice sounded so familiar! He stood up to face the man, an unreadable expression dominating his face.
"You…" he muttered.
Mark cringed at the sound of the his voice and dipped his head a bit, intimidated by the way he was being looked at.
"It's because of you that I knew where to find her…thank you," cried Tyson sadly, extending his hand forward. A hug would have been more expressive but the man was injured.
Mark gave him a warm smile and shook his hand, vowing never to forget this moment for as long as he lived, "It-It's a pleasure, sir."
"Tyson, the name's Tyson." nodded Tyson,
Mark smiled at the privilege; however, he found his happiness short-lived when he remembered their reason for being there.
"Hilary's an amazing person; we got a chance to talk before the…"
Mark couldn't finish and only sighed aloud.
"I-I tried to help her…I tried to-"
"And for that I'm eternally grateful," confirmed Tyson, placing a hand on Mark's shoulder, "Hilary's tough…I think she'll be okay," he finished, trying to convince himself more than anything.
Mark only nodded and was about to comment when he heard someone clear their throat to their right. Both men looked up to be greeted with a doctor in a lab coat, a warm smile marking his tired face.
"Mr Granger…we've just finished surgery and I'm relieved to say that it was a complete success. Hilary will be just fine given some time and plenty of rest," he smiled, wiping his brow with his sleeve.
"Oh thank god…" muttered Tyson, tears welling up in his eyes, "Can we see her?"
"Of course…she's down the hall, the last room on the right. Theatre 6." the doctor replied, "However, I will need to discuss something with her in a while, once she wakes up of course," he finished before walking away to tend to other victims.
Tyson only nodded, thinking nothing of it, and proceeded to walk when he noticed that Mark hadn't moved. He turned around to face the young man before motioning to him.
"I think she'll want to see you as well," smiled Tyson, leading the way.
Mark nodded quickly and followed suit without a word.
Finding the room, Tyson peered inside and what he saw made his heart drop. Hilary was hooked up to all sorts of machines and her skin was terribly pale. Her eyes were closed and he noticed that her face and arms were littered with cuts and bruises and even some stitches. Her left leg was wrapped in a cast and suspended by a cable connected to the ceiling and all he felt like doing was crying. She had never looked so helpless or weak before, never in all the years he had known her.
He wanted nothing more than to hold her in his arms and tell her how much he loved her.
Sitting down on the seat nearest the bed, Tyson took hold of Hilary's hand and rubbed it gently. Mark leaned up against the wall, viewing the scene before him and casting the young man a sad smile.
Hilary gave a light groan at the sudden feel of warmth against her skin and slowly opened her eyes. When she saw the warm, concerned eyes of her boyfriend staring back at her, she gave him a weak smile.
"Hilary…" came Tyson's strained voice as he cupped her face in his free hand.
"Tyson…you're here," she smiled, lifting up her free hand to meet the one on her face.
"I'm here and I'll never leave you again," he whispered as she smiled at his sincere offer, "Are you in any pain?"
"Not anymore…now that you're here," she replied.
At this, Tyson could no longer put up the strong front he had been holding up since he had arrived at the hospital. Tears started to trickle down his cheeks as he rested his head lightly against her chest and sobbed for all the world to hear. He didn't care that he was in the company of a complete stranger; all he wanted to do was release his anxieties, fears, and worries about the girl that was now holding him close and whispering words of comfort in his ear.
"I would never leave you, my Champion, not when everything in our lives is so perfect," she grinned, sitting up a little straighter and combing her hand through Tyson's hair.
She looked up and it was then that she noticed Mark quietly shuffling his feet in the corner of the room. Hilary smiled at him and realized that he must have felt extremely uncomfortable. I mean, it wasn't everyday just anyone saw the World Champion himself break down into tears.
"Mark…" Hilary called lightly. He looked up at her and approached the end of the bed with a smile on his worn face.
"Hey Hilary, I'm glad your okay," he nodded.
"And it's thanks to you," she started, looking down at Tyson, "I'm here because of you."
"N-No way, I-I didn't do anything," he stuttered, not usually used to being in these types of situations.
"Of course you did," stated Tyson, wiping the remaining tears from his face and sitting up straighter, "You saved her…and you called me letting me know where to find her…for that I will be eternally grateful."
Mark's mouth was hanging open slightly. He, of all people, was getting praised by the World Champion himself! He found words hard to come by and could do nothing more but stand there. Fortunately for him, Hilary let out a small giggle to relieve the tension.
"I take it you two have met already?" she inquired.
Tyson nodded, but Mark still stood there unsure of what to say.
"Mark, you look like you've seen a ghost," she laughed, "Lighten up, it's just Tyson. He's no one that special."
"Thanks…" Tyson replied dryly, though his tone didn't mask his extreme happiness at Hilary's recovery.
"Sure, maybe to you he isn't, but to me he's an idol, a legend even!"
"A legend, huh? Never gotten called that before," mused Tyson, placing a hand under his chin.
The three shared a laugh and stopped when the doctor walked into the room, hands in his pockets.
"Ah, it's good to see you up Miss Tachibana. How are we feeling?" he asked.
"Much better thank you. I just have a bit of a headache and my leg is killing me," she answered truthfully.
"Yes well, you broke your leg in several places, but luckily the bone did not tear through the skin. You'll have to keep the cast on for about six weeks or so," the doctor explained.
Hilary sighed but smiled wearily nonetheless.
"Also, there's one other thing I'd like to discuss with you," he said slowly, flipping through her file, "I just wanted to let you know that you were extremely lucky. The baby's still alive and it seems no permanent damage has been sustained."
Hilary gave a relieved look; she had almost forgotten about the unborn child and looked to a very confused Tyson who just kept repeating the word 'baby' as if it were a foreign language.
"Thank goodness, thank you doctor, for everything," Hilary bowed, before he smiled, offered his congratulations, and then left the three in peace.
"Tyson…are you okay?" asked a wary Mark as he too had heard the word 'baby' and had started to wonder himself.
"H-Hil…what…what did the doc mean the baby's okay?" stuttered Tyson, his breathing becoming heavy.
Hilary only smiled at him, hoping his reaction was far better than it was now, "Tyson, I meant to tell you when I got home, but well with everything happening…" she hesitated before continuing, "I only found out today, but…I'm pregnant. You're gonna be a dad in about eight months."
Tyson's mouth dropped as he tried to wrap his mind around what she had just told him. Mark's expression mirrored Tyson's and Hilary giggled at the two men.
"Are you mad? I know we aren't married yet, but I think we can really do this."
"Mad…why would I be mad?" he finally said, breaking out into a huge grin, "I'm gonna be a dad! Oh Hilary, that's terrific!"
He leaned over her cautiously, kissing her lightly on the cheek and pulled back slightly to take her in.
"You're okay with this then?" she asked, hopefully.
He nodded at her, "More than okay, I promise," he smiled before remembering a 'surprise' of his own currently sitting in his pocket, "Well, I have a surprise for you too, since it seems the appropriate moment to do so."
Tyson slowly reached into his pocket, "I meant to do this tonight too, but I suppose better late than never right?" he spoke softly, while pulling out the small box and flicking the lid open.
A small gasp escaped Hilary's lips as she gazed at the beautiful diamond ring adorning the inside of the box. She slowly lifted a hand up to her mouth to mask her shock and tears of joy.
"Tyson…"
"Hil…if today's taught me anything, it's to never take life for granted," he said, smiling at her reaction, "I almost lost you today and I'll be damned if I let it happen again. I love you more than anything in the world…will you marry me?"
"Oh Tyson…yes, of course I will. I want nothing more," she cried, as he pulled her left hand closer to slip on the ring.
Hilary stared at the ring adoringly and then looked to her new fiancée and puckered her lips. Knowing what she wanted, Tyson forwarded his face closer to meet her own lips in a soft, passionate kiss. She could hear him sigh happily, for what she guessed, was both for her answer and for her safety.
Hilary broke off the kiss and stared lovingly into his eyes, "I love you Tyson."
Tyson lifted her hand up into his own and kissed it lightly, "I love you too Hil."
Out of the corner of her eye, Hilary could clearly see Mark slowly making his way out of the room, a small blush crawling to his cheeks. Hilary let out a small giggle, knowing how uncomfortable he must have been.
"Where do you think you're going?" she asked, looking past Tyson and into his nervous eyes.
"Um…I-uh…thought you might want-you know, some privacy or something…" he trailed off, suddenly feeling the gaze of his idol upon him.
"You aren't going anywhere until I've thanked you properly," stated Tyson, "You've done more than the average stranger would…now what can we do for you?"
Mark just stared at the couple, mouth hanging open at his genuine offer.
Tyson, sensing the young man's surprise, merely said, "Please, we won't take no for an answer."
Mark sighed, giving the pair a tired smile. Just then, a thought occurred to him that made a small smile creep to the ends of his lips. How could he have not thought of it earlier? This was the World Champion he was talking about after all! What the hell was he thinking?!
"Well…" started Mark, smiling, "Would an interview be too much to ask?"
At that, Tyson laughed heartily and stood, "No sweat. My house, this weekend."
"Thanks Mr. Granger—I, uh, mean Tyson!" smiled Mark, offering his hand in a friendly shake and feeling his insides squirm at the thought of being able to call his hero by his first name.
"No, thank you," appreciated Tyson seriously, nodding his head. "And the first invitation of our wedding will be sent to you. You have to come."
"Of…Of course…"
Hilary smiled at the two of them as she gently rested her head back down on the pillow.
Tyson reverted his gaze to his new fiancée and smiled lovingly at her. He watched as the gentle rise and fall of her chest only proved to him that she was more alive than ever, though a little battered, if anything. He sat, again, next to her bed and held her hand gingerly, kissing it lightly.
Mark stood and smiled off in the corner at the couple. What started off as a normal, run of the mill type of day, had completely turned his world around. He had befriended a young woman that had taught him more about the joys of life that he could have never learned in any self-help magazines and had become a part of something wonderful all in a time span of a few hours. It amazed him at how lucky he considered himself to have survived such an ordeal and to have come out of it a better person.
He watched admiringly as Hilary laid, almost serenely, in her bed, Tyson by her side stroking her hand gently.
Hilary, for her part, closed her eyes, wanting so much to sleep but finding her thoughts preventing her from doing just that. So many things swirled about in her mind and she tried so desperately to organize them all, but her pounding headache kept reminding that she would not be at 100% for a while yet. Instead, she focused more on the ordeals of the day.
Mothers, fathers, friends, children…so many lives had been lost that day and yet, she was one of the blessed ones. Hilary had never really considered herself lucky, but, in that moment lying in that hospital bed with her fiancée, and her new friend beside her, she knew more than luck had allowed her to see another day.
Perhaps it was fate? Or even destiny?
Either way, a lesson well learned had come from all of this. And Hilary was certainly not the type to ignore something when it called to her.
Tyson, on the other hand, considered himself to be the lucky one. Luck had always been one of those things that he relied heavily upon as a child, whether it was good or bad. He never once considered the fact that he would be as grateful as he was to have luck, finally, be on his side.
And it was in that moment, that he realized how close he truly came to losing her.
He had almost missed his opportunity to propose, almost missed his chance to call her his forever, almost missed out on being a father, and had almost lost out on the single most important person in his life. Never again would he allow himself to ever be swayed by fear or anxiety. For his own cowardice had almost cost him too many regrets and Tyson, of all people, knew life rarely offered second chances.
And so, as he leant over and kissed his fiancée on her forehead, he vowed never to hold back, to never live with regrets, and to always be the man she had fallen in love with all those years ago. For, in that instance, Tyson realized how precious life was and how close he had come to losing it.