Hiya followers! I hope you are all well out there and hope you like my newest chapter :)
Chapter 35
Day 1 of the dojo lockdown.
Built in 1910 by Takeshi Granger, Tyson Granger's Great Great grandfather; the residence comprised of two sister buildings constructed of wood, brick, plaster, shoji and glass. One block, a family home filled with all the mod cons of a traditional single level Japanese household, the other...a state of the art martial arts dojo.
Tyson Granger, former beyblade champion and Dragoon spirit guardian, was descended from master swordsmen as far back at the Edo period, and as such, the dojo and the abode attached was his birthright to inherit. The sternly built sibling buildings had survived countless severe earthquakes and at least four fires that resulted from knocked over lanterns or sparking electrics during the rumbling events.
In retaliation for Japan's attack on Pearl Harbour during World War II, Allied forces air raided Japanese cities with incendiary bombs (bombs designed to create fire) Tokyo was extensively targeted from as early as April 1942 and had suffered many devastating attacks throughout the years, right up to the day Emperor Hirohito announced Japan's surrender in August 1945. The Granger dojo although not in the main city of Tokyo, was hit, burnt, and repaired multiple times. Despite its' mainly wooden structure, it withstood the devastation of fire as if the home was protected by the mystical Blue Dragon spirit himself. Tysons' home was as stubborn and strong-willed as its residents. It was also thanks to the high walls completely surrounding the dojo that prevented nearby house fires from spreading during the raids, and it would be the same brick and stone ingrained structure, with slate blue tiles that would keep at bay the Shadow Vale bladers; another indiscriminate and destructive force that sought to end a branch of the Granger lineage forever.
After being cooped up for the majority of 5 days in endless corridors, waiting rooms, and surrounded by workers in white coats... most of the bladers had disappeared inside the dojo for much needed rest, to use the bathroom, and to unpack. For a certain duo of Russian bladers however, a grand expedition of Tysons' home was about to begin.
The furry haired red-head with two swinging locks and his greynette comrade peered up at a feminine figure in a floral shirt and grey skirt, she lofted up on high on an elevated wooden step with her arms crossed behind her back, ready to play bossy tour guide. Baby-blue plasters peeked from the back of both of her dainty heels from the border of white ankle socks; rubbing wounds sustained from sprinting around the hospital in unsuitable footwear looking for Kai or help to save Tyson.
"Okay rule number one. No shoes in the house. This is a Genkan. This area is where you take your shoes off. You place them here." The slim legged brunette pointed down to the floor level where her plimsolls had been slipped off, and now paired together with the toes facing the doorway. Japanese homes have a flat area in the doorway where shoes are worn, and the raised area signifies the border between the dirt of outside and the sanitation of the home.
"NEATLY! TYSON!" She scolded as the bluenette flicked his shoes off, leaving one to lie on its side and the other several inches away in a completely opposite direction.
"Oh quit your complaining Hilary, I'll move em later. Just leave your shoes here guys. No shoes on the wooden floor okay. My Grandpa is a stickler for tradition." Tyson care-freely quipped as he shuffled backwards on the veranda to allow the Blitzkrieg Boys space to remove their footwear too.
Bryan flicked off his dark blue sneakers with two metallic silver stripes off in a similar fashion using toes from one foot to press off the heel, and then slide the rest of his foot out and vice-versa the other shoe. He then paired them uniformly next to Hilary's.
Tala took a little longer to remove his black military styles boots, the zips of which needed to be undone and his feet slid out, all the while balancing so as not to topple over and touch the Genkan floor like the game "lava floor". Once safely on the raised wooden step, he placed his boots neatly next to Bryan's in the line and oddly...he took the time to do the same with Tysons' shoes too, as if he was a parent picking up after a child. Tala was a bit of a tidy freak and loathed disorganisation.
The Wolborg blader's feet were clothed in grey with a wolf family crest on each ankle, the Stark family sigil from Game of Thrones; like Kai, Tala was into fantasy novels too and was an avid reader. The tops of said socks were hidden under the hems of his slim dark blue jeans. The Falborg blader's socks were dark blue to match his loose chino style trousers and devoid of anything comical or fancy. Four sticky toed Slavic origin feet tinkered as they stretched out flat against the hardness and cool of the wooden floorboards, relieved to breathe and escape from their stuffy footwear confinement.
Tala and Bryan were in quiet awe as their ice blue and grey eyes darted around with intrigue. The smell of ancient sandal-wood and tickle of lavender air fresheners was overwhelmingly pleasant. Randomly placed small potted bonsai trees littered a little shelving unit in the hallway, a rack with dry multi-coloured and sized umbrellas, a beige hallway runner mat and a shoe rack packed with various sizes, shapes and colours of slippers were all part of the charm of the Japanese home's greeting.
The cap-wearer was eager to lead the way and felt buttery with the additional foreign company. Welcoming his home to friends was something he'd perfected to an art.
"Here's one of the toilets. We have three to choose from. With so many of us crashin' here, I'm sure were gunna need them. Hahaha. Just make sure you put the seat down after or Mistress Hilary here will have a word or twenty to say about it." The super-host said as they reached the first door to the right. He turned down a silver handle and pushed the singe door inwards.
Hilary's hands and hips cocked sharply. "And you think us girls should have to touch the seat every time to put it back the way it was? What happened to chivalry?! There's four of us girls staying here you know."
Tyson moved aside to square up to her in playful argument. "Well who says the seat should stay down! It annoying for us guys to have to keep flicking it up but we do it anyway. Where's the thanks we get?!Huh?"
Whilst Hilary and Tyson naturally bickered like brother and sister...the Russian duo peered inside the small bathroom as if they were prospective home buyers.
A small cupboard sized room with a white porcelain western style toilet waited inside with plush pink carpet decorating the floor around the throne. A simple roll holder held a white toilet roll on the wall, a cheap plastic handled toilet brush and case tucked in the back corner, a small wash basin with a bar of soap and a couple of white hand towels rested in rolls on a small light wooden shelf. It was a dark windowless little space with a circular ceiling light above, a thin string cord hung by the door to pull to illuminate it. Precariously, a size 8 pair of well stretched and worn red granddad-style slippers sat at the door border with the toes pointing inwards to the room, and ready to wear for the next toilet inhabitants business.
Hilary huffed as she shoved past Tyson to point at the red worn footwear. "Those slippers are for you to wear to go in and out of the bathroom okay. And always leave the room in the same state you found it. It's just good manners...something Tyson knows little about!" She smarmed and flicked her hair aside.
Tala and Bryan raised a sly eyebrow at each other with how odd the shoe slipper regiment. In their country it wasn't unheard of to enter homes with shoes on, but agreed to do anything their hosts required... within reason. After all, by staying at Tyson's, they were saving money on hotels and assumedly they were going to be fed for almost free too in exchange for house chores. The ex Demolition Boys past was that of poverty and spent a time as orphans on the cold streets of St Petersburg, thieving meals and digging out of bins to survive. They were naturally grateful for anything, and wearing oversized slippers in and out of bathrooms wasn't exactly a hardship.
Tyson had temporarily exchanged his beyblade career for property showcasing. "Follow me guys! There's more to see this way. Here's the living room... although we're gunna be spending most of our time in the dojo. There's more space for us out there."
The quad entered a long wide rectangular shaped room with light brown tatami mat flooring throughout. The male and female G-Revolution members carried on to the centre of the room and stood in wait for the Blitzkrieg Boys to enter and take in the new sight.
On the far wall opposite the entrance was an eye-catching flat cupboard-like structure atop a dark wood table. It was illuminated by three small round warm toned spotlights in the top. The two doors of the cupboard were intricately carved with dragons and floral patterns and were wide open to display a small theatre stage with two levels inside, each lined with photos of Granger ancestors and deceased loved ones in different wood stained A5 frames. The top row harboured three black and white photos with grainy images and had obviously been taken when photography for civilians was novel and only just affordable, the 1960s perhaps. The row below was of more recent years with two single photos of women. One had greying hair held back in a bun with chopsticks and the other looked young, maybe in her 30s with dark blue hair cascading down her shoulders. Either side of the cabinet was two small white china vases with blue dragons painted on them with a single fresh white lily in each.
The new tenants were respectful to keep a distance from something as personal as a family altar and would not go closer to inspect unless invited. Tysons' family was none of their business, and so too were their families...or lack of.
Moving on from the Granger family shrine was the rest of the room. It was airy and minimalist with a large, low, dark glazed wooden table dominating the middle with a neat pile of red square pillows nearby. This was the family dining area although with only enough spaces for 8 diners at once. Opposite, was another low table placed close against the wall and on it a large 52" wide flat screen TV, perfect for viewing shows whilst eating. The remotes waited nearby and palm tree-like dracaena plants stood at 5 feet high in each corner of the room in decorative blue and white pots. Other than that... the room was spotlessly clean and typically Japanese with plenty of light streaming through paper-thin shoji walls; of which had been slid fully open to allow in a grass smelling breeze to combat the humid summer climate. An air conditioning unit was installed on the ceiling but was currently off to allow nature to cool the room today.
Tyson continued to lead the way with Hilary close at his side. "The kitchen's through here guys."
Tala and Bryan, with their hands coolly in their pockets and without comment, trailed through to the next room which was self explanatorily...the kitchen, they took a moment to peer around. They would be staying at Tyson's for at least the next few days and knowing where the crockery and plates were kept would be sensible.
The main feature was a huge cream-coloured wooden western-style dining table sizable enough for 12 diners; add another 2 at a squeeze. Matching chairs were neatly tucked underneath. The guests would be spending breakfast, lunch and dinners tightly congregated that's for sure. Although some certain members who want more elbow space and quiet could opt to stagger their mealtimes or eat in the garden or dojo at their leisure. The floor was wood laminate flooring and the walls were tiled white. Cooking utensils, crockery, cutlery, pots and pans were tucked away neatly in cupboards or on plastic plate racks ready and dry for use. A fruit bowl mounded high with apples, oranges and bananas gave the room a splash of colour from the centre of the table. Birds fluttered around the well placed bird feeder outside the double kitchen windows with a pretty backdrop of the flowering hedgerows and phantom silhouettes of the koi swimming in the pond added to the pleasant view.
Tyson leaned back to relax on the counter by the wash sink and remarked."Breakfast is whenever you're up. There's cereal, toast and jams in the fridge. We have pancake mixes and plenty of fruit too. Lunch is around midday and dinner is 6pm sharp. We bulk cook for everyone so let us know if you don't like or allergic to anything. We switch it up between Italian, Indian, Japanese, Chinese...hey we could have a Russian night too."
The Blitzkrieg Boys peered around further, quiet and taking mental note of where everything is.
The kitchen was complete with a microwave, oven and dish washer as most homes do...however ...the Grangers owned something not so typical due to its bulk and sheer expense. Tysons' gift to himself after winning his first beyblade tournament...a giant American-style fridge freezer complete with ice maker. Grandpa had a nose bleed after hearing the price and implored his Grandson to spend his prise money more wisely. Despite the seniors' protest...Tyson ordered it anyway after saying he'd grown a liking to the cold after being trapped inside Tala's ice prison, but in reality was a cheeky Tyson-special pundit to get his own way. After saving the world from the evil clutches of the BIOVOLT Corporation...his grandfather had little grounds to refuse his little dude and before long, the luxury sparkly-white fridge freezer had arrived. It became the holy grail of the house with its ability to give birth to cubes of ice in 5 seconds flat, a lifesaver during heat waves that Japan so often suffered. In Tyson's' eyes and heart, the giant mega cooler was worth every penny...and its ability to store more food at once thus reducing trips to the store was the frosty icing on the cake.
Evidence of someone's lunch in the form of bread crumbs and a peanut smeared knife sat abandoned on the yellow wood coloured kitchen side.
"Feel free to make yourselves a sandwich anytime you want. I see SOMEONE already has." Snarked Hilary.
"Help yourself to whatever's in the fridge okay." Food fairy Tyson said as he left the counter to pull open the heavy refrigerator doors. Crystal cold air mixed with the warm and he was soon enveloped in a magical misty glow as if he was being revealed at a game show with dry ice.
He stepped aside to reveal a fully packed shelves and trays with cold meats in packets, bread, milk, fruit juices, vegetables and random tubs of precooked food.
Grandpa Granger had stocked the giant cool box well despite only an hour's warning that his grandson and friends were due to arrive from the hospital. A frantic dash to the local Seven Eleven store with mismatched sandals, open blowing pink garish shirt, and a trolley rollercoaster derby around the store left the shop clerks concerned he was on some kind of narcotic. He picked up multiples of each item, bags of Tysons' favourite potato chips, tubs of ice-cream with Kai's sore throat in mind, rice...more rice... and frozen pizzas to name a few. The sum came up on the till screen, he whimpered as his bank card fizzled and then threw the items into canvas laundry bags as if he was running the supermarket sweep. His old bones weight-lifted the several bags of groceries, frozen food and snacks back home as quickly as he could with comically bowing legs and sweating buckets. Once home...the speedy shopper played a hard game of Tetris with Tysons' appliance-baby...and evidently...won.
Tyson closed the fridge door and playfully warned to his Russian guests. "I suggest everything that's yours you should put your name on it. Daichi and Max are prolific food thieves. The milk is Ray and Mariah's too so if you want some I suggest you get your own." He became animated as he gloated over his Chinese friend. "Speaking of Ray...he's the best cook around. He does most of our cooking when were camped up together. Grandpa is an okay chef but Ray has real restaurant experience in Paris! He's a real magician in the kitchen if you know what I mean." He pinched his chin. "I wonder what he's gunna cook up tonight."
Hilary frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Urhhh Tyson I think Ray has enough to deal with without playing Gordan Ramsey. We all need to learn how to cook ourselves and plan a cooking rota. It's not fair to make Ray do all the cooking!" She relaxed and gestured proudly. "I am a marvellous chef. I suppose I can be convinced to take over some of the cooking."
Unbeknownst to her, Tyson behind shook his head madly and waved his arms in fright at her suggestion.
Hilary's peripheral vision saw the tips of his flailing arms waving and snapped her head to leer at him like a vampire. Her words were harpy-like and splicing. "Is something the matter Tyson?! You. Love .My. Cooking. Don't. You." Hilary was devoid of all sweetness as her inner demon raged with the fires of hell emblazoning behind her black silhouette; her eyes shone red and piercing. "You. Like. It. Spicy?! DONT YOU TYSON!"
The beyblade champ felt two centimetres tall and quivered with non threatening hands up. "Cool it okay Hilary. Hahahah. I was only kidding. Hahhaha. I'm sure we all love your cooking. I actually like the burning sensation on my lips. HAHAHAHA."
Tala's stand-offish ice prince routine had thawed for a moment to brag with his arms crossed. "You don't need to worry about cooking for us. Bryan and I will cook for ourselves. That being said; you want to taste good cooking? Bryan's stroganoff is outstanding."
Bryan was quick to scold his red-head companion. "Don't go nominating me Tala! I'm only good at cooking because you're always too busy or tired after work to do anything. You'd starve to death if it weren't for me." Bryans' last comment was tragically true for their past life before BIOVOLT and loosely their present too.
Tyson nervously exaggerated a laugh. "HAHAHAH! Moving on with the tour guys! You can tell us all about your stroganoff another time Bryan. For now I gotta show you the rest of the house before Hilary decides to put her apron on and sends us back to hospital with 5th degree heart burn and stomach ulcers."
Next for show and tell was the pantry behind a set of sliding doors in the corridor outside the kitchen. Inside on the lower shelves were cleaning liquids, sick kits, a fire extinguisher, a couple of mops, a pile of clean unused mop heads in a basket and a dyson vacuum cleaner. On the upper shelves were several bags of rice laid flat, large bags of pasta in multiple shapes and so many tin cans of fruit and spams that one would wonder if the Grangers were stocking for an apocalypse. "This is where all the pasta and rice is. And the cleaning stuff. So there's no excuse for messiness...*cough*... Tyson." Smarted Hilary as she slid the door back closed and cranked her head to glare at the man whose messy habits could at times rival a first-grader.
The bluenette had raced on ahead, slammed his bedroom sliding door across and gestured with his arms to his open crib. "Here's my room. If you wanna borrow any of my comics just ask. They're all in Japanese but I guess you can look at the pictures like Daichi. I have a few English marvel comics somewhere but I'll dig them out for you later." He stood with his side slouched to the wall in a cocky stance as Tala and Bryan entered his room after him. The beychamps garish green carpet was horrendously outdated and his computer desk was a mess from the plugging and unplugging of his TV screen. The youthful blader clearly hadn't been on top of his dusting regiment but at least his shelves jam packed with manga comics were in perfect chronological and alphabetical order, and his towering trophy cabinet made entirely of glass was crystal clear and smear free. His bed was still a mess from the morning he launched himself from it to make it to the minibus on time for the Charity beyblade tournament some 5 days ago. His dragoon themed duvet was in disarray and one of his pillows still lay on the floor. The last time he was in his own bedroom was last Saturday; today...was Thursday.
Tyson was quick to move on and exited his room. Lunch was due and he still had the rest of the house and entire dojo to show off to his soviet guests. He gestured to a closed sliding door. "This way guys, this is my Grandpa's room so this room is off limits."
Feeling he was alone he swivelled 180 degrees causing his heavy dark blue ponytail to flop onto his shoulder. "Uhhhh? Guys?! Where'd you go?"
Hilary pointed with a nail painted finger from the corridor into Tyson's bedroom. She stabbed. "Give them a minute Tyson! They're taking a peek at your trophies."
A glass display cabinet; each glittering crystal shelf was occupied with beyblade related awards, framed photos of the Bladebreakers, G-Force and G-Revolution teams, as well as trophies, cups and medallions in velvet lined boxes. The Blitzkrieg Boys stood quiet with crossed arms ogling at two golden structures in particular...the World Championship Beyblade trophies. One needed a shelf all on its own with the sheer size of it, the one won during the year that Mr Dickenson trialled a Tag team tournament. The finalists were Kai and Tala versus Tyson and Daichi. The latter team won by a hairline. Tyson could barely hold the thing it was so large with four golden pillars with red decoration and atop sat a trophy cup made of polished carat metal.
The other...an award of similar appearance sparkled with red pillars and tiny silver hammer and sickle emblems to symbolise its Russian origin. It sported a rose gold metal cup with a plaque on the base with the date, country and all the names of the Bladebreakers including Kennys'.
If only Tala and Kai had won their matches against Tyson during their final rounds retrospectively, it would be the Demolition/Blitzkrieg Boys who would have those very trophies in their possession instead, gathering dust on a mantelpiece or locked away in a display cupboard.
"Oh those old things. Here, wanna see em up close?" Said an excited Tyson as he promptly took to open the cabinet door regardless of the Russians answer. The rare golden artefacts were worth hundreds of thousands to the beyblade fan market and were glorious treasures indeed. He gently handed his first World Championship cup to the Demolition Boys leader, whose arms weren't prepared for how heavy it was. Tala held the base in one hand and one of its handles in another and gripped tight, treating it as if it was as precious to him as it was to the true owner.
Tyson rubbed the back of his head with a slight unease and hoped he wasn't coming across as smug or disingenuous. "To think, this is the one you would have won if you beat me that day in Russia. I guess it's a bit of a sore thing to look at huh?"
Tala passed the golden plated prise to Bryan for a peek. "No, not at all Tyson. You and your team beat us fair and square despite our shameful blading." Talas' tone softened. "At the time, I wanted nothing more than to defeat you, for BIOVOLT, for Boris's scheme... but after...I was nothing but grateful it was you who won."
Bryans' expressionless face reflected in the metal as he too gave it a quick once over and gently handed it back the blader whose name was one of five etched on the metal plate. The trophy meant nothing to him and was merely interested in the beauty of it, to hold it and to feel what it would have been like to have won it. Despite his best efforts and brutality, Ray and Driger beat him and through his actions, he became one of the most hated beybladers in history. He knew he should feel guilty for how he put the Chinese blader "through the wringer" but in his mind...he'd done nothing wrong. He was simply following orders and there were consequences if he didn't...perform.
Tyson muttered softly as he carefully replaced the gleaming esteemed prize back to its protected place. "What a day that was huh. That beybattle was epic. One of the scariest but awesome experiences I've ever had thanks to you Tala. Your ice attacks are something else." He slowly clicked the door of the cabinet closed and turned, sporting a more serious face and readied for any backlash given how sensitive the topic. "I've been meaning to ask you something and never find the time before, what with BEGA and all. After our match at the Russian tournament...in the locker rooms...what happened?"
Tala crossed his arms and turned away as flickers of emotion began to surface that he didn't want his Japanese host to see. His tone was serious and dramatic. "The day our lives turned upside down for good."
Tyson, so in tune with feelings at times he felt the stoic Russians' emotional flood gate was ajar and so... pushed for more. "After the press conference and trophies were handed out, we went back to our locker room and there were all these guys in suits and police uniforms with walkie-talkies and official badges running around. They were looking for someone all frantic and pushy with handcuffs and guns in their hands. We, the Majestics, the Allstarz and White Tiger team heard the commotion and saw them storm into your room. The next thing we see is you, Bryan, Ian and Spencer being led away by the men in black and that's the last any of us saw or heard from you again until two years later! Just what happened to you that day guys?"
Bryan was prickly with a scowling face. He clearly wanted to end the topic. "Boris skipped town and we had to pick up the pieces. And that's all we're willing to share right now with you Tyson. Our past isn't a pretty one wrapped in a frilly pink bow."
Tala was always more chatty than his grey haired comrade but agreed that conversation about their past was neither comfortable nor light hearted. "It was the start of a big change for us that's for sure. You're lucky...to have a stable home and kind family Tyson. BIOVOLT is long behind us now and we're living good lives. I just wish Boris was behind bars like his boss Voltaire. I'd sleep better at night that's for sure, just to know where he is and what he's up to...no good probably. As far as we're concerned Boris and BIOVOLT are history. Now... show us the rest of your home Tyson."
Tyson took the hint and knew if he was going to get any more information on the events surrounding BIOVOLT, he was going to have to be tactful and very surgical about it. He jumped straight back into tour guide mode, leading the tall pale-skinned duo and Hilary back into the hallway and continued the show. "Okayyy so this is Grandpa's room so you can't go in there." He said pointing to a closed shoji door.
The next door along was also closed... until the bluenette thrust it open causing a harsh sliding sound. "This is my big brother Hiro's room. He's off somewhere doing who knows what." The room contained an unmade bed with a bare mattress, curtains drawn and boxes of stuff with labels saying "toys", "broken kendo sticks", "Charity donation", "Hiros' stuff". With its resident gone, the remaining Grangers used the vacant bedroom as a store room. A clear indicator they weren't expecting Hiro to come back anytime soon.
The next room along was just as vacant. "This was my parents room." Murmured Tyson as he gently slid the door across a quarter of the way, not for the purpose of showing it off but to quickly check everything was in order. He peered around to inspect the foam tile ceiling for water leaks, and gazed around low looking for movement of animals which may have somehow gotten in and trapped. To Tyson, this room felt hollow and uncomfortably cold, almost eerie like a ghost lived in it. There was a bare western style double bed and a mattress atop with no linen or pillows. The windows and beige curtains hadn't been open for years and the wardrobe doors were wide open with bare plastic coated hangers on a rail. In the middle of the quiet and dusty room were more boxes of various sizes depending on their content. Each box had a label in Japanese kanji reading... "Tatsuya's journals" "Tatsuya's maps" "Tatsuya's clothes" "Tatsuya's certificates" And behind those boxes were others with frayed cardboard edges and coated with denser layers of dust, indicating they were much older in age. "Yoshie's dresses" "Yoshie's photos" "Yoshie's college papers" "Yoshie's clothes" "Yoshie's shoes" "Tyson's baby clothes and photos" "Hiro's baby clothes and photos." All boxes were evidence of the lives of Tysons' family and all he had of his late mother.
Satisfied there were no trapped squirrels or damp circles on the ceiling, the youngest of the Granger family swallowed a sore blub of sorrow from seeing his late mothers' possessions and slid the door shut, plunging everything inside the room back into a still and haunting darkness. He took a second to inhale a breath through his nose as he took a moment to settle his emotions. Hilary laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. She knew the significance of the contents of that room and how hard Tyson took every visit to it. The doe eyed girl whispered to him close. "Tyson?"
Tala and Bryan raised a sly grey and scarlet eyebrow in confusion to the other. They couldn't read Japanese and had no idea what was written on those boxes. Their keen senses however knew it had to be something sensitive and made nothing out of their host's switch in demeanour. They stayed silent and un-judging, giving the motherless beyblader the time and space to recoup himself.
Tyson did what Tyson did best and made light of an uncomfortable situation. His joker face mask slipped seamlessly over his melancholy one. His guests were waiting and snapped out of his stupor in the time it took him to turn 180 degrees. "Well guys have I got a treat for you! Who likes a HOT TUB?!"
Before long... Tala and Bryan were whipped around a sharp corner and was faced with what was behind door number 9. Tyson smugly stood back and leant on the wall with one arm, allowing his new amigos' to peer inside for a good look.
"It's just a bath." Bryan droned as his eyes were met with a wooden box with a snaking shower head pipe hooked over a set of silver taps.
Hilary chirped as if she was a shop clerk trying to sell it. "This not just any bath. No this is called an ofuro. It's a special Japanese bath tub, nice n deep for soaking in. You fill up the tub using that tap on the wall. You'll only get hot water in this weather though. The taps take forever to run cold. You must use the tap and the shower hose to wash yourself off first before you get in the tub. That little wooden stall thingy...that's for you to sit on whilst you shower yourself... and there's a bamboo pot there to fill up if you want to dunk water over your head. There's drainage on the floor as you can see so treat it like a wet room. Towels are there." She pointed at red towels rolled up on a wooden stand.
"There's your soap." Sales mistress Hilary pointed to the soap. "And here are your bath salts in this urn next to the soap." She popped the lid off a bamboo tub with sakura flowers painted all around it to reveal pink Himalayan bath salts textured like sand inside.
Tyson warned in a light tone. "Oh and just so you know...there's no lock on that door so knock before you go in. Trust me. The sight of Daichi's mini-me is not something you want in your head."
Tala went all goosy and shivered, pulling a comical grimace of disgust. He'd encountered Daichi's undone fly before at the Tag-team Championships and that was more than enough red and orange polka dot underwear he ever wanted to see... let alone the contents beneath the cloth.
Tyson quipped whilst still leaning against the door frame with one arm. "There's enough room in the tub for four people. I don't know how prude you are in Russia but here in Japan, we take bathing and onsen seriously. It's good for the body and soul or so my Grandpa always says. Max, Ray, Daichi, Kenny and even Gramps...we've all shared a dip together. Male bonding thing ya know. But I get it if you don't want to join in. No pressure. The offer's there dude."
Hilary was short and authoritative like a school teacher. "It's strictly boys with boys, and girls with girls by the way...unless you're a long term couple like Ray and Mariah then that's acceptable."
Tyson put on his erotic face with one hand on the wall, smirking and doing a funny up and down movement with the inner corners of his eyebrows. His voice was sultry and knew he was pushing his luck. "Does that mean you and me can share the tub Hilary? Hehehehehe."
Hilary was in shock with a dropped jaw. Part of her was disgusted at Tysons' suggestion and the other loved his cheekiness. Her face turned to a disgust-smile hybrid. She was literally speechless and red faced with embarrassment but secretly loved it. She couldn't show that she was up for the idea however and gave the chancer a sharp whack to his groin with the back of her hand, striking his manhood square on at the speed of a praying mantis' arm with nothing but sharp finger bones and feminine violence.
The randy minded youth instantly regretted how fast his mouth moved before his brain could kick in and in this case, his penis and testicles paid the price. He doubled over in pain as he gasped for breath and his stomach somersaulted.
Hilary checked her nails on one hand to make sure they weren't broken. "Urghhhhh nice try Tyson! Maybe when you sort your life out, learn to be a gentleman, oh and pick up after yourself, and start dating me again properly this time, then maybe we will get to that stage."
Tala had no interest in the complicated love life of TyHil and ignored their bicker completely. Instead, he sought to remind his overfriendly host who was busy cradling his crotch where they stood. "Tyson. If you can manage it. Open your ears for a minute."
The "speak first- regret later" bladers' baseball cap had fallen to the laminate flooring due to his half bent form. He emitted a high-pitched reply with hands tightly clasped over his groin. "Yeahhh... what?"
Tala's mature voice was stern but tried not to sound too rude. "Just so we're clear. I'm not having a bath you. Ever. Its just bazaar you would even offer that." *Huff* "As exciting as your bathroom is...Can we move on already?."
"Can't you guys see I'm in pain?! Where's bro-code in these situations? Huh?" Tyson muttered bitterly to himself as he straightened his spine somewhat. He shuffled partly cross-legged, using one hand to support himself against the beige wall-papered hallway wall and scooped his cap up on the way. "Okay. On...to...the next...room...guys!" The thought of fast approaching lunchtime and food was enough to drive him through anything.
Hilary jovially taunted with wicked pleasure. "You okay there Tyson?! Heheh. Oh you do come out with the funniest things. MwahhaaHahaaaha."
The crippled bluenette could barely get his words out as his testes screamed in his pants, and so... his floral loving punisher naturally took the lead. She hooked her fingers into the groove needed to pull another shoji panel door across. "Drum roll! Please!" She quipped, trying to excite the new guests who were rapidly running out of interest. Neither were impressed as Tala tried and failed to scuffle a yawn, using a white skinned hand to guard his open mouth... whilst next to him, Bryan clenched his jaws with irritability and with crossed arms he glared as if to say "get on with it."
Like a game show host revealing a prise, Hilary proclaimed as she threw the sliding barrier across. "Oh look! It's another bathroom!"
This bathroom was more typical of western accommodation with a white porcelain toilet, white floor tiles and beige with white wall tiling like a chess board. A small frosted glass window was ajar and a fan extractor unit installed in the wall was turned off when the shower was not in use. Surrounding the base of the throne, in front of the sink and in the middle of the room was turquoise coloured bath mats made of memory sponge foam with pebble patterns for texture. This room harboured both a bathtub with hot and cold taps at one end with a soft lip at the other, and for those who liked a good steam up or quick wash... a frosted glass shower cubicle. Above the sink was a glass mirror cabinet on the wall filled with everything from plasters, to tooth paste, to nail clippers, to cotton ear buds and make up remover placed there by one of the girls...or perhaps Kai from years ago for removing his face paint. Nobody really knew how it got there, but was there for all to use...if still in date.
Bryans' flat tone dripped in sarcasm awarding him a snigger from his team mate. "Great, do we all shower together in this one too? How many people fit in the cubicle without cheek bumping?"
Tyson winced with one eye open as he finally uncapped his genital area, smirking. "Hahaha. Good one Bryan. I didn't know you had a... sense of humour."
Hilary was quick to add before moving on. "As you can see everyone's toothbrushes are already on the shelf and there are fresh towels on the rack. If you don't have your own shampoo I don't mind lending you some but you better replace it, my hair care regime is not cheap."
Tyson scratched his head with a little unease. "Oh by the way guys. There's no lock on this room either. So do remember to knock okay. Kenny once walked in on my Grandpa during his morning glory and I don't think he ever got over it."
Bryans' thick grey eyebrow twitched as his temper began to fray. He wasn't sure if it was the early stages of "hanger", the uncomfortably high Asian humidity, residual jet lag or... something else. "Why on earth don't you have locks for your doors?! I don't think I've seen a single one. What about our privacy?!"
Tyson didn't really have an answer and threw guesses in reply with a stroppy tone. "I dunno. Maybe because most of the time it's just me and my Grandpa... And this house is insanely old...Grandpa's too busy and cheap to install them...maybe... And well...it's not that hard to learn to knock!"
Hilary sweat dropped with the newly born abrasion between Bryan and Tyson. "Come on guys. That's the house tour done. Let's show Bryan and Tala the dojo huh. Whatdya say?"
Adjoining the Granger house with the dojo was an elevated pristinely flat, glossy, yellow-wooden path. Tyson led the way around the square shaped veranda towards what they dubbed "the bridge"...when they encountered something... or more like someone in the way.
Flame-haired "monkey boy" was fast asleep and snoring on the sunbathed decking like the Pokémon Snorlax. His bruised blue belly was fat and protruding out from under his cropped sleeve navy shirt as his legs splayed out and jerked as he dreamed. Beside his sprawled body lay a very scratched and battered Strata Dragoon which had fallen out of his pocket and rolled to his side with the bitchip facing up. And on the other side of his body was a plate with a few stray dabs of peanut butter and plenty fallen bread crumbs from his sandwich. A banana skin, chocolate bar wrapper and a scooped out ice-cream tub sat discarded in a pile next to his plate. The boy had a little private feast all on his own and had crashed out in the sun.
Hilary smiled as she tiptoed between the gaps in his legs to pass him and whispered. "Oh Daichi. Someone's glad to be back."
Tyson peered down at him fondly for a moment. He said softly before swiping his nose with his thumb and sleeking off without contact. "Settle right back in why dontcha. Hehe. You deserve it buddy, snooze allllll you like for now. Cus soon, we've got some serious training to do."
Tala murmured with sarcasm whilst gingerly stepping over the boy with a scar on his forehead and drool making its way into the crease of his mouth. "Daichi. You sure are a pinnacle of grace. Sleeping out in the open like this? Is he brave or just careless? Oh well, I'm sure he's fine with all the security guards at work." He caught a glimpse of silhouette of Mariam of the Saint Shields as she crouched on a ridge atop the blue tile roof of the wall. The giveaway was her elegant blue shark-tail shaped ponytail as it swished in a stray breeze.
"You gotta give it to him. He sure looks content. Be a real shame if someone kicked him." Bryan threatened in a jokey quip before lunge striding over Daichis' bow angled twitching legs.
"The Bridge", the raised veranda path connecting the main house to the dojo gave the traversers an elevated princely walkthrough of the tucked away Granger garden. On one side of the high decking was an unobstructed view of the main entrance and everything near it. The yard's old thick heavy wooden doors were locked shut by a 2inch wide metal bolt. From the entrance snaked a stone slab path to the house front door. Stone and cream coloured clay walls with ridged greyish blue slate tiles boxed in the whole property leaving no gap for wanderers to just happen in. Between the walls and the house was a mainly dry empty space except for short scattered shrubbery and a couple of young cherry blossom trees. The vegetation dropped debris, flowers and leaf litter all year round and its clearing was a daily task. Every afternoon like clockwork the yard was swept with a willow wood broom by Granger Senior and sometimes Junior if he could be wrangled into the task. The chore was hardly a bother as old man Ryu was a passionate gardener who loved to keep busy when not teaching Kendo or Karate or...nagging his grandson to do something with his life.
On the other side of the bridge, there was more splendour and far more greenery to see. A greater population of trees and more bushes dotted this side than the other. This area was cooler with the dense treetop foliage blocking the sun from baking the dirt floor and provided plenty of shaded spots. Grass grew in wide patches which gave the yard a jigsaw of clay baked earth and green terrain sections. Wild flowers grew this side of the garden too which attracted scores of butterflies and bees in the warmer months and scented the air with floral bliss. The northern side of the gated grounds was surprisingly wildlife friendly given its sub-urban location; garden variety birds nested, and even common toads and grass snakes called the garden home. The trees harboured many insects and at night when moths took wing, bats would fly, squeaking and preying on them. Grandpa Grangers' well stocked bird feeders attracted wild winged guests on the daily, staging a feeding frenzy each morning as they were served sunflower seeds and other grains, fat balls in the winter, and dried mealworms as treats.
Another feature in the yard stood the wood shed with its back close to the dojo wall. Daichi would take no time filling it with freshly chopped timber and often left the axe clubbed into a wood block just to feel strong and manly. He was descended from a long line of loggers back in his home town and was well practised in the art of cutting up tree parts. The hip old Granger never had to nag him to do it and flunky Tyson was more than happy for him to take the chore off his hands.
One last and important feature of the Granger family's little haven was the fish pond, built shortly after the dojo in 1911. Tyson christened all the koi either "Fish" or "Chips" as a child and they've been known by those names ever since. Many "Fish" and "Chips" died from illness, heron attacks or old age and whenever one passed, it was soon replaced maintaining a constant fish count number of 6 at any one time. The oldest residents were a huge gold one and a splodge red and white, each neared 40 years old and had been alive longer than the boy who named them. The aquatic pets would eat frog spawn every spring and gobble up premium grade fish pellets every morning after zoo keeper Ryu had tended to his feathered friends first.
"And here we are guys. Feast your eyes on my dojo." Chorused Tyson with the sound of wood scraping in its runner as he thrust open the main sliding door. He stepped inside with Hilary at his side and Tala and Bryan close at his back. The latter two had never set foot in a traditional Japanese dojo before and stood marvelling in the doorway.
The Caucasian foreigners were instantly hit by the musky smell of ancient wood, much like an old log cabin. Pleasant, earthly, clean and warmly infused with the scent of history. The old beams were the backbone of the building since its birth many generations ago, and was notched and a little worm rotten in places. Despite its age, the Granger dojo was as well looked after, painted and serviced by ryokan restoration experts whenever it was called for, and was as sturdy as Mount Fuji itself.
The floor was one continuous stretch of dark hardwood flooring which had been regularly mopped, routinely oiled and any scratches filled with special resin. A raised lip extended across each side of the longest stretch of the walls, its use unknown. Slat windows with single glass panes kept the wind and rain out, and were cleaned semi regularly to clear debris and moss in the colder months. The dojo by design was wooden built throughout apart from its concrete exterior walls and grey slate roof. A set of overhead lamps hung from the ceiling like pendants with standard household bulbs.
In the centre, like a holy altar at the back wall in the centre...was an ancient sword made of metal which sported a double hilt not typically seen on samurai swords. On the hilt was a scratched out circular disk where the emblem of a certain dragon spirit once presided. The primeval blade's long metal shaft was chipped and deep scratches scarred its surface, marks of a long career of fighting and travel through inheritance. Any historian would squeal in pleasure at the sight of this rare artefact of war, its origins long predated Edo Japan times and was almost as old as Japanese civilization itself. Its story through time would be an extensive and violent one if only the blade could talk. The dull metal weapon stood on its tip in a small wooden mound designed to keep it upright. Directly behind it, hung from the ceiling and stopping clear of the floor was a traditional Japanese tapestry painted in hues of blue, grey and white watercolour of mountains, hut villages, fishermen and waterfalls. Its olden presence commanded utmost respect and the sword was not to be handled at any cost, its age and rarity made it off limits to all. Grandpa Granger gingerly dusted it with a soft toothbrush once a fortnight and did so with held breath and a delicate hand.
The only other dojo decoration came in the form of dummy samurai sword racks on the walls made out of Dragoons' element...wood. Kendo students would pick their cherry wood weapons from their perches and return them neatly after their hard drilled tutorship sessions. Open doors on the left side of the main training area led to a small cloak room which doubled as kendo outfit storage and a changing room for female students. From it, emerged a familiar face carrying a box filled to the brim with red and metal grilled kendo face masks.
"Hey Grandpa! You finished a class already?" Called Tyson as he led the Blitzkrieg Boys to the centre of the hardwood hall.
"No ma boy, I don't think I'll be having any classes for a while now. It's not safe just havin' peeps come in off the streets. Can't risk your enemies Trojan horsing themselves in. Besides you and ya crew need room to cotch don'tchya. Your sofa and Tv is already takin' up enough room. Your folks are gunna need the space to pitch up. I'm clearin out so you can dump ya luggage in the cloak room. It'll give those cool cats Ray and Mariah some privacy too." Replied the Hawaiian shirt lover as his bare hairy legs shivered under the weight of the heavy box.
Tyson replied. "But Grandpa it could be days, weeks even before you can have classes back."
"Yeah but what can ya do. I can't have peeps just turning up and putting you kids at risk. It's okay. I got plenty of students right here Hahahaha!" The older Granger cackled at the thought of whipping them all into a new shape of warrior with 7am starts. His schedule would be far from empty.
The younger Granger smarted cheekily. "Yeahhh sure Grandpa, when we're good and ready that is, maybe we'll humour you for some karate lessons when we get bored enough. Fat chance of that with the XBOX around. Hehehe." His demeanour turned to more pressing matters. "Say Grandpa where is everyone?"
Before the hipster elder could travel anymore, he dropped the box to his feet and replied whilst cracking his back. "Let me think...your White Tiger homies are in the bathroom tending her ladyships' bandages. Kenny's grabbin' my extension lead from the back room for their gadgets. Max, Emily, K-Man and Mr-bodyguard are gettin' more bedding from Hiro's room. And... your home boy Daichi is catchin some Zzzzzzs on the deck."
"Okay thanks Grandpa! One more thing to show you guys." Tyson gestured to the Russian duo to follow him to the cloak room in much need of Grandpa's clear out. It was full of labelled boxes containing kendo bogu sets, white karategi robes hung from coat hooks, spare slippers of different shapes and colours waited by the door entrance and the rooms' edges were lined with wooden sport benches often only seen at swimming pools or schools. To the back of the wooden floored room was a utility area with a large white washing machine, a spin dryer neighbouring it, a floral patterned ironing board and a white iron on a bamboo shelving unit where assortments of branded washing powder and stain removing chemicals lived. This room was dedicated to cleaning kendo armour and karate robes but would soon be the beybladers' personal launderette and area of contention should anyone mix colours with white laundry.
A door to a cupboard was hid around a corner and once opened it revealed another toilet room complete with blue oversized croc slippers and green floor mats as well as everything else you would expect in a typical household toilet.
Tyson gleamed as he led the greynette and red-head back to the centre of the dojo floor. "And there you have it guys. My home. If you need anything just ask kay!"
The ex Demolition Boys were as confused as much as impressed. One glanced at the other before Tala piped up with crossed arms and an important question. "You have a nice home and all Tyson. Rustic. But where's our bedroom?"
The bluenette took off his cap and gestured with a wide open swing of his arm with a cheesy grin. "You're lookin' at it. Welcome to fort bed-time, part-time karaoke bar, games room and yoga studio if that's your thing."
Hilary chirped in so sharply from behind she surprised the new frosty hearted tenants. "It's just like camping. I hope you sleep okay on futons boys because it's all we've got. Besides, we can't have bed frames on this old wooden floor can we. It's strictly no beyblading inside and lights out at 11pm sharp." She winked playfully.
Tala's scarlet brows were furrowed and exclaimed aloud. "What? All together? In here? With the girls too?"
Spy eared Emily had re-entered the room with a thick bundle of lime green duvet and memory foam lining hoisted in her arms, the items were intended for Max after his bathroom break. With sheer American boldness she purposefully bumped through the middle of Tala and Bryan from behind, causing them to split and stumble aside. This earned her instant scowls from the arctic-friendly bladers. She warned with a cheeky smirk. "Better keep your hands to yourselves boys. I'll be watching you and your sleeping habits. No wandering around in the night or I'll know about it."
The Falborg blader straightened and instead of giving the Allstarz female the mouthful she deserved, he aimed his gunpowder crackling feelings at his teammate like a loaded cannon. His left lower-eyelid twitched and his body lurched rigid with irritation. His icy stare bore into Talas' soul as he grunted Russian words through clenched jaws. "Just say the word Tala. We could be at the airport in 2 hours, and in the air before they fight for the bathroom to brush their teeth for bed."
Talas' crystal blue eyes rolled into a side stare back to his comrade. Sharing his sleeping space with people he barely knew riddled him with unease...his nightmares could be a problem and there would be questions about his...other condition too. His face was pale and blank as he seriously contemplated Bryans' offer. Given his odd night habits...it was a tempting scenario.
Hours later...
*Yawwwwwwwwn* "I'm completely pooped." Murmured Hilary, wearing a frilly baby-pink sleeveless nightdress as she perched on the wooden dining chair. She supported her tired brunette head with one elbow on the cream coloured kitchen table, and with her free hand pushed single sticky grains of rice around her bamboo plate with a single chopstick.
Daichi stretched his arms out whilst yawning loudly in the same clothes he's been in all day. *YAWWWWNNNNNN* "Me too! Time for bed!"
Kenny placed his glasses on the table with care and begun to massage his face, ensuring to deeply tease out every wrinkle and crevice surrounding his orbs, of which were always hidden beneath a thick auburn fringe. "It's barely even 9pm. How are we all so tired?!" He exclaimed before returning his spectacles to his face.
Emily, wearing teal pyjama shorts and a grey pyjama shirt with the buttons done up to cover her cleavage, aimed her words for Team G-Revolution after sipping the last of her lemon tea from a mug with the BBA emblem on it. She was the most awake person having already gotten over jet-lag and not suffered the same trauma as most at the table. "After what happened to Kai it's been a rough few days for you all. Periods of high stress can really take its toll on your energy levels. A few early nights in a familiar place will do you the world of good. Those hospital dorms aren't very homely or five star."
Tyson sported black night shorts and a baggy yellow t-shirt and too joined in the yawning with a single tear expressing from the side of each eye.*YAWWWWWNNNNN*"I can hear my futon calling that's for sure!" He gazed across the far end of the opposite side of the table where his new Slavic house guests were seated. "How was your dinner Tala? Bryan? I hope you liked it. Like I said, my Grandpa isn't too bad a chef and his katsu curry is the best! You can't beat home cooked. Tomorrow you guys can call the next meal. You are guests here after all." He smiled before raising his hand to cover another yawn stretching from his throat to his open lips.
The Wolborg blader glanced down at a stray rice grain and katsu curry sauce smear on his empty plate before affording his generous host a reply. "It was good...thank you." The words of gratitude were an awkward afterthought said with a dashy gaze. He wasn't used to thanking people for anything and barely accepted gifts from anyone other than his team. His childhood at BIOVOLT taught him nothing came for free and whenever Boris or the guards offered another blanket, another slab of meat in his soup, thicker winter socks... there was always a price to pay in the form of nasty favours. But this... was Tyson Granger who was kind and decent to his core... and he...was nothing like Boris Balkov.
Fuzzy haired beef cake Bryan needn't give a review. His plate was completely clean. Every morsel was scraped off by his fork. His demeanour was calm and sleepy from the non adjustment from Russian to Japanese standard time. Alike his orphan teammate, he was grateful for the free food.
Hilary stretched slim her arms out and then upwards to wake herself up before stifling another yawn. "It's a shame it was just us seven. It would have been nice to have dinner with everyone for our first night out of the hospital."
Kenny added. "Max hit the hay pretty early. He crashed out as soon as we put his futon down. I can't believe he completely missed lunch and dinner! I saw him get up a couple hours ago for a pee but after went straight back to bed. He's gunna be ravenous tomorrow that's for sure."
Emily added further. "Ray and Mariah had a little lunch soon after we arrived then turned in early too. Mariah has been so brave after her attack. She hasn't complained once and puts on a real brave face."
Hilary locked her finger together and chortled like a criminal mastermind. "I've got a little surprise in store for Mariah tomorrow. Allllllll shall be revealed. Hehehehe."
Hilary's cackles were always something to be wary of, causing Tyson to express a heavy sweat-drop from his damp washed hair before he too interjected. He jumped to his feet and his words were charged with passionate. "Kai too guys. He's been really strong throughout all of this. The guy nearly died and he hasn't even shed a tear about it. Dranzer was stolen from him and the guy who did this is still out there. If I were him I'd be going stir crazy but Kai's taking it all really well. He's superman as far as I'm concerned. Nothing keeps our Kai down."
Emily remarked as she set her mug down to the table. "Except today Tyson. Kai went down as hard and fast as Max did this afternoon and I haven't seen him stir or eat all day."
Tyson settled back to his seat and replied nonchalantly. "I'm sure Kai's fine Emily. You wait and see. He'll be fighting fit in no time. Give him some decent sleep, food and a bit of time and he's gunna show Shadow Vale a thing or two." His tone grew more serious as fire erupted in his heart. "And I wanna be there to join in when he does."
Midnight...
Outside, rogue crickets chorused in the grass, rare tiny bats squeaked in the air and the wind whistled through the minute gaps of the wooden door sliders to the dojo.
Inside...was not as quiet as 11 young adults writhed, breathed, slumbered and snored from different body positions and coloured futons. 9 were positioned in a line and their spots taken depending on who hit the hay first and who wanted to be next to whom.
Max was the first to crash at midday. The blonde American male was dead to the world and produced soft breathing noises in deep slumber. He was tucked up to his middle by a lime green duvet as he slept curled on his side facing his neighbour, his golden hair frazzled against his matching pillow. The energy Zap Arachnid robbed from Max's blood left Draciel's guardian feeling colder than usual and was one of few who needed their duvet cover in the stuffy aired East-Asian night.
Next to him lay the one and only Kai, who had since been abandoned by his security guard to patrol the outer decks of Tyson's residence. The phoenix blader didn't need or want anyone watching him sleep and his employed protector felt the same. A grown man watching another grown man sleep was odd and far beyond their contractual obligation. Opting for Mr Cooper to patrol the wooden veranda to act as another watchful eye was a better use of time at Kai's instruction. The dual tone haired blader struggled to get comfortable with his wound aching like a throbbing burn and screamed with every jerk of muscle in his torso. Lying in any other position than flat on his back was out of the question. His dark blue duvet cover draped loosely over his middle and his cool pale legs within long fleece lined jogging pants. It was unusual to see Kai needing a blanket at all. The guy was hot-blooded and barely wore a coat...even in winter. To see him need a duvet during Summer was worrying, like the fire in his veins along with his blood had been exsanguinated. And despite being brought back to life, he had barely an ember left to keep his own body warm. The wounded CEO held a gentle hand to guard over the bandages beneath the cloth of his loose black t-shirt. With the help of opiate based painkillers in the form of Morphine pills, he was soon asleep despite his stab wounds protest, plus the disturbing light of the day streaming through the windows and noise of others mooching around their business. The rest of the Granger household wouldn't see or hear of Dranzer's ex-guardian until the next day, leaving all concerned that he hadn't eaten a thing since breakfast. The darkness around his eyes was evident that he needed sustenance and on the double, if only he had the appetite.
Next to hit the proverbial hay was the White Tiger pair around 2pm. Mariah watched as Ray picked their spot next to Max's sleeping form. For Ray, camping next to Kai was not his first choice. He had mixed feelings of guilt, pity and bitterness towards his former team mate. In his mind, Kai was partly to blame for Mariah's clash with Garnetta and the blood streaked consequences of their battle. Equally, the Driger guardian felt disgusted with himself for failing to save entrapped and wounded Kai at the beystadium, so much so, that looking Kai dead in the eyes was impossible.
After Ray had first set up his loves' bed, it was time for her to make the journey from standing to nestling down flat into it and inside the softness of her cerise pink futon covers. Mariah winced as her bandages pulled at her ruby weeping wounds beneath freshly changed white linen wraps. With loving devotion and aid from her boyfriend she was gently lowered to her back. He kissed her forehead and she was fast asleep in no time with Draciel's guardian slumbering softly beside. After hours of watching her nap, Ray sighed deeply as he slowly fell into his own siesta all the while draping his arm over her stomach protectively.
It would be night time before the rest of the assortment of beybladers would turn in with bellies full of Grandpa Granger's cooking and tired from the excitement of finally leaving the hospital after 5 days of white walled monotony, stench of antiseptic and plastic seats so hard their buttock flesh ached flat.
Hilary was the first to grab her bedding and set it down quickly aside Kai before Emily could snag the sweet spot. The ginger haired Allstarz blader had a thing for Kai...everyone knew it and righteous Hilary thought she would save the handsome blader from Emily leering over him in the night. The brunette's deed wasn't completely innocent as she too had a teeny crush on Mr Hiwatari. She loved Tyson but Kai had something magnetising about him. She wondered was it his corporate position she found alluring? His wealth? His intellect? His tall and toned physique? His pretty face?... All the above? It certainly wasn't his personality. Regardless of the reason she was attracted to him, she lay herself quietly and respectfully in a thin summery floral duvet set next to his resting form. With her hair pinned in loose curlers, she nodded off fast and slept like a true little lady without a peep. Kai barely knew she was there.
Fast-forward to shortly past 10pm and everyone was hitting forty winks...well most of them.
After brushing his teeth and clearing up his guests dinner plates, Tyson had stolen the spot next to Hilary. In typical Granger glory his yellow t-shirt rode up exposing his belly, and snored like a trumpeting elephant with legs splayed out like a frog. His yellow duvet cover was beneath him and way too hot to have any cover on his thick boned body this Japanese night.
Next to him, like his Siamese twin was Daichi also snored his head off, his legs too sprawled out and twitched. His red blanket lay in a pile at his feet after being kicked off from feeling too warm.
Kenny had a choice...actually get some sleep next to silent snoozing Ray... or close proximity to Tyson and Daichi's incessant snorting all night. The genius needed no second thought as he laid his bedding down next to the male White tiger. The beyblade brain-box was so tired from the day's events and hours of beyblade analytics it wasn't long before he crashed out in a loose foetal position. For tomorrow, his brain and laptop would receive another digital smashing orchestrated by his fingertips and heaps of newly received data emailed through from Max's Mum Judy.
Emily, the luckiest to have the option of the farthest position away from the duo of nasally challenged G-Revolution bladers, was still awake with bloodshot eyes. She was not used to the slumber noises of Tyson and Daichi, of which could register their own earthquake Richter scores. After much tossing and turning with frustration she remembered the plush blue ear plugs she used for her flight from LA to Tokyo. Much to her relief, they did the trick and before long she was finally in slumber-land.
The Blitzkrieg Boys however would not have their problems solved with squishy puffs of plastic foam.
Bryan somewhat rested on his back, then flipped to his side before flipping to his back again like a fish out of water. His pale hairy legs sprawled out and kicked his brown duvet away furiously. His crotch was clothed in loose navy shorts and a thin fabric burgundy vest covered his meaty chest and taught torso. His pasty skin glistened sweaty in the night as he tossed and turned in broken sleep. Without the familiar lumbar support of a mattress, snoozing on the floor on a futon was going to take some getting used to. Add to that...sleeping in a room with people he nor Tala barely knew wasn't something he felt comfortable with either, some of which he was sure disliked him.
The sound of snoring wasn't much of a bother as their comrade Ex-Demolition Boy Ian was just as disturbing and over the years sharing a dorm together at BIOVOLT, they learned to block out the noise.
However, the core reason why the Falborg blader wasn't catching Zzzzzs was something he never tolerated well... the heat. The sticky humid air in the dojo was breezeless with no open windows or air conditioning unit to cool the room. "Would it kill him to offer us a fan? Geeeze it's so fucking hot." He groaned in a half awake state to his comrade in the futon bed over.
"I know Bry. I'm not comfortable either. Just try to sleep. I'll have a strong word with Tyson in the morning about getting us a couple of fans. We're gunna need them if he wants us to continue staying that's for sure." Gruffed Tala with angst in his tone. He lay flat out on his futon with parted legs, cradling the back of his sweat drenched skull with his hands wearing black shorts and an orange t-shirt. The tall and toned Wolborg blader stared at the ceiling panels barely illuminated by the moonlight pouring in through the window slats. His duvet cover was in a folded pile at his feet, he would not be using it tonight.
Bryan quipped with a grunt. "Hmph. That or we're kipping in the fridge...or better yet...we go home Tala."
Russia had warm summers granted, but not like this, not this humid and so stifling the soviet bladers could barely sleep. They could ace subzero temperatures no problem, the boys were raised in the frost and snow after all...but the other end of a thermometer was another story. Hot weather was not their best friend. The noise of Tyson and Daichi's snoring was no match for the discomfort of the smothering atmosphere. The Blitzkrieg Boys had no choice but to melt through the night and listen to the nasal orchestra in the long hours of dark. Each snort Tyson and Daichi expelled grated on their sleep-deprived tempers like sandpaper. The idea had crossed Bryan's mind to hold a pillow over their faces in their sleep until they silenced but knew Tala would talk him out of it...and then there would be the double murder charge he'd face and the bureaucratic nightmare to follow.
Tyson would have two grumpy, sleep deprived and bloodshot-eyed Russians to deal with in the morning that was for sure. Fingers crossed he has life insurance.
On an industrial rooftop, in the far distance from the sanctity of the Granger residence, a cloaked gang of four crowded around a short chimney shaft. All that could be seen of their varied height forms were shadows with glinting ruby eyes inside the black of velvet hoods, and swish of the heavy cloth at their backs.
Blake complained with a bloodlust tone as he paced with pulled fists. "Urgghhhhhhh we just can't get near them! Dranzer is waiting for me to complete the ritual and Kai is right there. Right there for the taking!"
Garnetta hissed with her arms crossed. The white bandage with blood from her slashed palm was clear to see in the moonlight. "How do you think I feel? Huh! Driger was mere millimetres from the skin of my fingers! His guardian renounced him to me. DRIGER WAS MINE! Josef and that Blitzkrieg blader have their cards well and truly marked and I can't wait to give them a slice to remember."
Darcel whined and stomped like a child who didn't get his own way. "Draciel was down. I had him on his knees. My Zap-Arachnid had him beat fair and square, that was until a couple of harlots got involved. That American chick and that witch Mariam cost me what I was promised. The Arch-Mage PROMISED me I was worthy. I WAS PROMISED!"
Harkan growled with glowing scarlet irises and charged around angrily with heavy boots. "HOW DARE THEY THINK THEY CAN TAKE US ON! Ozuma and his snivelling Saint Shields are beneath us. They and their meddling clan will be first I'll scour from the planet. Once we obtain all four of the sacred spirits I will crush them like the insects they are. Ozuma and the one with the wolf spirit will be first in line for slaughter."
Blake took a breath to calm himself and ceased his pacing before becoming the voice of reason."Brothers...Sister...all we have to do is wait. They can't stay holed up in that house forever and when they venture out...we will be waiting."
Garnetta whined. "But for how long brother?! How long will the Arch Mage show us patience before he deems us unfit for purpose?"
Blake sneered with dark precision in each word. "We should train in the meantime. Get even stronger. Give them a reprieve and when they have no sight of us they will assume we have gone away. They will go mad eventually in that small living space and when they snap, and argue and begin to hate each other they will fold. They will want to go back to their pathetic mundane lives and break out of hiding. We have to bide our time and when we meet them again they will have no chance of defeating our newly honed skills and enhanced power."
Darcel interjected with a sneering nasal voice "Why don't we give them an incentive to come out instead of just waiting. Leverage? Some of them have family in the local area. Why don't we use them to flush out the Guardians we seek? We could take them hostage."
Blake's voice turned sinister and dangerous. "Can't hurt to try. Kai's Grandmother doesn't live in Tokyo I believe. I'll set to work on tracking her down. A little old lady doesn't have long for this world anyway but I bet her Grandson would do anything to keep her safe. Even trade his own life for hers I'd imagine."
Darcel sneered. "Lil Maxies' Dad lives nearby in the town over. He owns a beyblade shop. We could do a little shopping while we're there. Help ourselves to some new beyblade parts. Heheheh. Max's dear old Daddy can foot the bill in more ways than one."
Garnetta huffed before twisting a strand of her hair around her finger and releasing it. "Huffff. I'm pretty stumped in that corner. All those close to Ray of the White Tigers are back in their village in China. I'm shit outta luck. The rest of his team is protecting the village round the clock. I wonder what Mariah would think of me slicing chunks off her brother. I could send her his fingers and beyblade in the mail for a laugh. Ray would do anything for his old team captain and childhood friend I bet. I could slice off bits of Lee Wong and send Ray his body parts in a jiffy bag. The trade?...Driger for an old friend. Ray has already set a precedent that Driger is worth the life of a single human being. I bet if push comes to shove he'd do it again."
Blake cocked his head and smirked. "Fat chance of that Garnetta. The White Tigers are untouchable right now. Their whole village is on high alert with many highly trained village guards at their disposal. And do you really want to go back to China and possibly miss Ray and his Driger sneaking out for a morning jog? No sister...you need to be here to strike when the time arises. Think of your mission."
Harkan warned in a deep bellowing tone. "Yes. No trades sister. The hostages are only to flush out the Guardians from their sanctuary and so to engage in battle. Blood has to be spilt. No screw ups, no chance of failure. We defeat them in battle, fatally wound them and take what is ours. The hostages will be a means to an end. If Tyson, Max, Ray and Kai will not rise to face us then their loved ones will be slain. They will go mad with the grief and then come out for revenge anyway."
Darcel placed a hand on his taller brother's arm and smirked up at him. "Who knows Blake, perhaps you won't have to wait too long to complete your ritual for the Phoenix of Fire. Slay Kais' dear old Granny and he might just kill himself. Being separated from Dranzer with half a bond will have him on the edge of sanity soon enough. Just a little push is all he's gunna need. If he checks out himself...that will save you the job."
Blake retracted Dranzer from his pocket and shone the fire bird's bitchip in the moonlight for all his siblings to see. "Call for your guardian oh Great phoenix Spirit Dranzer. Keep calling. Don't let him eat, don't let him sleep, don't let him rest. Push him to the brink of sanity for me. Oh Kai...my adversary... accept your fate and let us end this."
Garnettta smirked and checked her blood red nails. "Oh brothers your cruelty knows no bounds."
Darcel added. "Our hostages don't have to be family to our guardians. Tysons' girlfriends' family aren't far either and doesn't the one they call Chief own a family run noodle shop? And the head of the BBA Mr Dickenson...he's a precious person to the Old Bladebreakers too wouldn't you say?"
Garnetta beamed. "Ohhh goody I could go for some noodles. Noodles, beyblade shopping, and hunting the elderly."
Harkans' evil voice rumbled out the words from his thick muscled neck. "We will decide our target hostages tonight and then tomorrow...we take them at dawn."