Wow Hilary, you really outdid yourself today! It looks super inviting!" Tyson praised as he ogled at the large spread on their portable table.

A petite container of miso soup, a colorful variety of sushi rolls on a large platter along with the wasabi, a large bowl of shrimp pad thai, melted cheese on a bowl of nachos bathed in salsa, fish tacos with crowded stuffing and a freshly tossed caprese salad on Hilary's side of the table for obvious reasons.

"Well, since you have been working tirelessly, I thought I would go easy on you and whip something that you like, but don't expect this to be a daily occurrence." Good thing it was dark, he wouldn't be able to see her blush. "Plus, that weirdo was such a jerk! Good thing that you beat him!"

"Yup! He gave away his weak spot, alright!" he greedily rubbed his hands and claimed a chair, besides her (they always sat next to each other). "But what happened to you? The Hil I knew would be prancing around and gloating in the face of beybladers that I beat. I haven't seen that a lot lately. Are you alright?" he poked her arm.

Hilary sniffed and shifted her body so that he couldn't poke her again, though the tingles running up and down her spine told her she wouldn't mind if he did. "It's called growing up, Tyson, and you get it when you grow up. I wouldn't expect you to understand," she told him loftily.

"Yep, that's my Hil," he laughed, smiling at her. Hilary flushed once more at his words, but luckily the teen had turned from her and resumed his attention to the table, choosing which dish to attack first.

She watched him as he chomped down on the chicken wrap, the sauce oozing out of his lips. She grinned, no longer surprised as why she didn't find that revolting. She lazily played with her salad, watching the star above their head. She had missed being able to lay outside under the stars like this. She felt so much freer out here than she did inside the city. The ground was soft and the breeze cool, a quintessential night. Hilary sighed softly, content to rest here in the comforting presence of her best friend.

"I still can't believe it though," Tyson mused, seemingly more to himself than to her.

"Believe what?" Hilary asked him, letting her eyes close. Believe I would stay for so long? Believe that we would still argue like we used to? Believe that after all this time apart, it's like no time's passed at all?

"You," he told her simply. "You've changed a lot."

Hilary bristled defensively. "That better be a compliment Tyson Granger," she warned, her tone carrying a thinly veiled threat.

"It is, don't worry," he assured her. "You've gotten a lot better, that's all."

"Oh. Is that all?" She deflated slightly and tried not to sound put out.

"I suppose you've gotten taller too," Tyson added as an afterthought. "And you look kinda...older."

"Wow, I wonder why that is?" Hilary drawled sarcastically.

"Shut up," Tyson reprimanded, good-naturedly, poking her again. (She was right, she didn't mind it at all).

The two lapsed back into silence (wasn't much of a silence since Tyson was scarfing down food at a furious pace) after that short exchange. Hilary was trying to figure how far she should read into Tyson's comment about her looking older when she realized what exactly he had said before that.

"What do you mean I've gotten better?" She turned on her side to look at him.

"I never thought I would say this, but you actually excel at everything. I know you despised the sport, but I think you could have become an awesome beyblader. At first, it would tick me off. You were such a know-it-all, but then you quickly got the mechanics, and in some way, it helped us all." Tyson's voice brought her back to the present, and Hilary refocused in time to see Tyson give her that winning smile. "I am kinda glad though that you aren't a blader like us. We definitely couldn't have found a better manager."

Hilary laughed, feeling rather embarrassed, and tried to wave away his compliment. "Really Tyson, I have to be good; I'm a manager of the World Champion. You have no idea what's it like running behind you guys all day."

"And I appreciate it. Perhaps I don't show it enough, but I really do." Tyson agreed, "I am so indebted that I don't know how I can repay all of it. Helping me during the exams, sometimes doing my homework, you late night tuitions so I wouldn't fail, you helping Grandpa when I was away, you taking care of me when I was sick…the list goes on Hil…and I am really proud to be your friend."

Hilary was quiet, unsure of how she should handle such praise. She had been hungry for praise since her childhood. Making her parents proud with academics and scholarships, she had been told repeatedly how good she was by her various friends and teachers, all thanks to her effort, but this was Tyson telling her how great she was! All the time she had travelled with him, the emphasis had always been on how well he battled and how many bladers he defeated. Hilary had flourished into a skilled manager and assistant during that tenure.

"But you were always a good coach," Tyson commented softly. "You always gave me advice and helped me train, but I never gave you enough credit..."

"Don't blame yourself," Hilary mummed just as quietly, hearing the undercurrent of guilty in his voice. "You were concentrated on your own goals, and sometimes even that was too much for your poor brain."

"Thanks," Tyson mused dryly, shooting her a glare. "But I still feel bad that I am not able to support you like you've supported me."

Hilary smiled and stretched an arm up to the sky, pointing her finger at the dark abyss that loomed above them. "But you are Tyson. See the stars? They remind me of you," she explained, "and all the times we've sat like this, looking up at them. So don't worry." She let her arm drop back to her side. "Because no matter where I am, you're always with me."

Tyson tilted his head back, looking up curiously at the bright pinpricks of light. He studied them for a minute, mouth quirked to the side as he contemplated them. The boy must have liked what he saw because after a moment he scooted closer to Hilary and poked her cheek with a chopstick.

"Tyson, I swear the next time you do that I'm going to bite your finger off," Hilary growled at him. Way to ruin a nice moment... "What?"

"Look at the stars," he told her simply, pointing at them with his chopsticks.

Hilary stared at them, wondering what she should be looking for. "I see them, Tyson. They're really pretty tonight, huh?" She ventured, guessing that was what he was referring to.

"Yeah, but did you notice how brightly they're shining?" Tyson smiled at her, his own eyes seeming to glow with some inner light.

"Mmm, they're really bright."

"They're shining for you," his soft hair brushed her cheek, "and all the things you do. So when you see them, know that I am too."

Hilary's breath caught in her throat. She kept her eyes focused on the stars, but they were quickly becoming blurry. Blurry, blinking dots that colored the sky.

It took the girl a moment to get her heart under control again. When Hilary was able to think straight, she noticed that her hand had somehow slipped into Tyson's. She left it there, and laughed as a tingly warmth traveled up her arm from where their palms connected.

"Tyson, I do believe that was almost poetic," she teased him, squeezing his hand gently.

"Really?" he tilted his head. Her heart almost stopped when she felt him squeeze back. "Eww. You're supposed to be the mushy-romantic one."

Hilary scoffed and rolled her eyes, slightly disheartened. "Thanks, prince," she teased with a hint of cynicism. She began to pull her hand back, thinking rather dejectedly that maybe he still wasn't ready, and he was still the same old Tyson.

Hilary was stopped by a firm grip, one her fingers had no chance of escaping. "Wait," Tyson pointed towards the sky again. "The stars are still shining."

A small smile flicked across Hilary's face. She tilted her head to let it rest against Tyson's, letting his warmth flow over her.

"They're always shining stupid."

"I know. That's the point."