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Breath of Light	By : Cepheus Category: Beyblade > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1252 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Cepheus: this
is the second chapter revised, I hope you will like it
more than its previous version. I will try to write better I promise!

Kai
*glaring at her*: but MF, what about the sickness?

CP: try
some painkiller, it will last for another chapter, or two...

Kai *pales*: Oh, Kami.

Kammyh
*once again showing up, singing Russian melodies*: Little Kai, just wait, soon
enough Tala will come!

Kai
*blushing and looking away*: hn...

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Thanks to all the nice people who reviewed

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Rating:
Still T, for a while...

Warning: this
will be shounen-ai, which means boy x boy relationship. If you are not
comfortable please leave now, without further ado. No flames accepted because
of that.

Disclaimer: Sigh, sniff, I don’t own... but I wish I could...

“Talking”

‘Thinking’

“(Talking into other languages)”

((BitBeast language))

//dreams sequences, flashbacks, memories//

Breath of Light

Chapter 02= Consciousness...

Believing to be a son of the Dark

I’m still running from the Light

yearning for it all the same:

a little Light for my shattered life.

What can be worse that someone

living all his life in the shadows,

maybe a shadow himself,

asking for a drop of light,

knowing he is forbidden to have it?

Tainted by a blank void,

in remembrance of days

that will never come back.

=Start Dream=

Plic.

A small drop of water trickled down from the ceiling,
falling with a soft sound right on the bruised cheek of a battered form that
was laying motionlessly on the cold floor; it was a thin and skinny frame that
belonged to a very young boy, unconscious, with steely chains that bound his
wrists and ankles to the wall behind his shoulders.

He could be dead, if not for the rising and falling of
his chest that revealed he was still breathing.

As the cold drop met with his skin, a light tremble
shook the boy’s frame, his closed eyelids flickering; then his fingers twitched
lightly, the feeling of the cold water forcing his mind back to consciousness.

Not even a second later his eyes flashed open, as the
boy came back to his senses, blinking rapidly to clear his sight and to
overcome the dizziness he was feeling.

Looking around with widened eyes he tried desperately
to understand where he was, panicking as he couldn’t recognize his
surroundings, his breath coming out in strangled gasps, being absorbed by the
damp walls.

He gave the impression of a wild animal trapped and
caged without his will, pupils almost glowing in the darkness; he hated the
dark, and he feared it. But most of all, he feared what the darkness could
hide. Nothing good came from the darkness, not in a place like this.

After some seconds -to him they seemed like hours- his
sight accustomed itself to the complete obscurity of the small room around him
and he could finally understand where he was, even if his eyes could not help
him.

Slowly his erratic breath calmed down, his heart beat
finally reducing to a steady rhythm. Not that knowing where he was calmed him
down, but at least it was something expected.

Without having to see it, his memory recalled the same
coldness and the same feeling of the room as something he already knew. There
were not many rooms this cold in the Abbey, and most of them were not
completely dark -the prisons were usually with bars, so light could reach
inside.

But the small room around him was different; made of
cold stone, swallowed in shadows because void of any source of light. To reach
it one must’ve walked through long airless corridors, sinking down under the
lower training areas, and lower, to the prisons, and even lower, where the air
was so cold it hurt, and the darkness was complete.

The only connection with the outside was a metallic
door on the opposite wall, too far away from his reach -and it was closed.

Under his back he could feel the damp stones, the cold
seeping through his tattered clothes, freezing since no warmth could reach that
place. No wooden board to sit on either, just a plain and hollow room.

How could it contain anything else since it was created
to be a cage? A cage, a prison for wild, rebellious animals.

Shifting slightly to let his back rest against the
wall -suppressing a shiver as the cold spread through his body like ice- he let
his eyes close again, calming down the stabbing pain he was now feeling in his
whole frame. He knew he was still settling down from the change, eyes
shifting again from the brilliant gold to the usual shade of crimson, the
process as painful as ever.

He could do nothing about it, just wait and keep his
hurt body as still as possible. It would stop eventually. It always had.

Plic.

Another drop of water tricked down from the ceiling
onto his cheek, mixing with the trail of dried blood that was also there,
remembrance of the punishment session he went through before passing out.

He tried to count all the serious wounds he had on his
whole body and decided this time none was really bad, just two broken ribs and
some scratches -plus two fresh and painful whip slashes on his shoulders. It
would have been less painful if he hadn’t been injected with the anti-serum
before collapsing, because then his system would have healed during his
‘sleep’, instead of just laying there.

Oh, well, too bad.

Sighing in defeat the boy, whose hair was of two
shades of blue -darker on the back, lighter on the front- crawled slowly away
from the puddle of water on the floor, trying to find a dry spot to sit without
pulling too much the chains around his wrists and ankles. Being so short, they
allowed him nothing more than few inches.

The movement caused a sharp pain he wasn’t aware of in
his right leg so he stared down carefully, straining his eyes. No matter how
much he tried, he could see nothing at all -how could he? Not even cats could
see in the complete darkness- so he tentatively reached out with his hand,
brushing his fingers over the leg cautiously; his sensitive fingers felt the
dried blood, and under it, a deep gash. The boy glared at it even if he
couldn’t see it, wondering if the wound would infect. Despite the fact that it must have been quite a while since he had been
lying there, some of his injuries were still bleeding.

His eyes narrowed as he remembered why he ended up in
the cage. He’d disobeyed... once again. Refusing to stand against one of the
bladers, and Boris hadn’t been too happy, as expected.

Not that he didn’t like standing up against him, the
boy thought snickering. No matter how hurt he would end up after, he would
never bow to him, never ever. Not after what he suffered from the director.

But he had to keep in mind, his help wasn’t accepted.
No one wanted him to help; no one wanted him to protect anyone... half the
beatings he had to endure were by some of the older boys in the Abbey. He
helped them, taking their blame, suffering their beatings, but still, he wasn’t
accepted.

He’d stopped wondering if they ever would accept him
long time ago.

Curling up around himself, attempting to warm up his
shivering frame a little so not to freeze -he hated cold, it had a bad effect
on his system- he wondered one more time if this was his entire fault. Maybe
sometimes in his previous life, he’d done something wrong, so in this
life he had to be castigated.

The slate haired boy let out a deep sigh, hiding his
face in the crook of his arms, taking comfort in the proximity of the only one
who didn’t hold any grudge against him. Dirty fingers sliding
inside his pocket, pulling out a BeyBlade.

He couldn’t see it, but it wasn’t needed, since he
knew every single detail of it.

It was blue, with red edges, and even if it was rather
small compared to the ones the older kids in the Abbey used, it was still quite
big for his hands. In the middle, right on the bit chip,
stood proudly the figure of a giant, mighty bird, huge red wings outstretched,
blazing golden eyes and sharp looking talons ready to strike.

It was the Mythical Phoenix, a creature that lived
inside his BeyBlade, who fought at his side every single day, helping him
through the hell known as Abbey.

Crimson pools stared at the creature with love, as the
chip glowed faintly, relief filling his heart seeing Boris didn’t separate them
again, like he did many times before. The director knew he couldn’t live
without her.

‘What about me?’ the slate haired boy sighed; now that some light, even if ever so
faint, appeared in the room, he refused to look at his injuries, nor at his
surroundings. ‘Was it really mine the fault?’

The Phoenix knew the feelings that were running
through her loved Child, she knew he was blaming himself, but really it wasn’t
his fault, how could it be?

((It’s not you, Master, but Boris, he’s the evil
one... please, don’t say this...)) the warm voice of the Phoenix and the warmth
spreading from the bit chip had the power to calm down the slate haired blader,
giving him some kind of relief.

But this was still wrong.

He couldn’t let Boris hurt others; it had been one of
his promises since the very first day.

It didn’t matter the others feared him.

It didn’t matter they called him a freak, or a
monster...

They were just like him -ignoring some parts of the
truth, in fact, but still. He had to help them, even if he received nothing but
insults after. This was the way he was. He couldn’t change.

That’s why he helped the other boy, just like he’d
helped many others before him.

Boris used to train kids in groups of hundredths
-well, not Boris, he just walked around to look at the promising ones- and they
were exercising with the launchers when one of them simply collapsed.

He had been one of the younger ones, a little skinny
blonde that always had some trouble in doing all the tasks required for the
daily schedule. He couldn’t take it anymore, the beatings, the starving, the
stress, so his legs gave out and he fell on the floor, groaning in pain.

Boris was on him in the blink of an eye. He never
tolerated ‘slacking off’ as he called it. As if doing two thousand rip cords
and two hundred push ups were nothing more than a little game for them.

Boris repetitively kicked the blonde in the ribs with
sadistic violence, a twisted smirk flashing on his lips -the rest of his face
was under his glowing mask, giving others the impression of a demon. Kai, who
was obviously training away from the main group -and was at his second
repetition of their training, to be truthful- couldn’t stay put seeing this.

Not that the director wanted him to anyway, turning to
him with a sick smirk, asking him to come and attack the fallen boy.

Rage filled his heart, how could Boris believe he
would ever attack one of them? He wasn’t his fucking slave.

No, he wasn’t.

He’d never attacked any human being, and he didn’t
intend to, ever.

The boys thought otherwise. They feared him, were
afraid of what he was. Backing away in fright as he stepped
towards the director, disgust, fear and hatred too clear in their eyes when he
looked at them.

It wasn’t like he cared, but in some strange way he did
care, because he wanted acceptance, but he never received it.

The fallen boy had looked up at him, trembling, defenceless,
eyes filled with resignation meeting the crimson ones. He too believed the
slate haired blader would hit him, kill him. He was a monster, after all. He
had no heart whatsoever.

Staring down at the eyes of the younger kid, seeing in
them the same feelings and contrasting emotions he was forced to see in
everyone else’s, hurt him.

Never to be normal again.

Hated.

Feared.

He didn’t want this...

Why should he help the boy after all, why
should he help any of them? They used to beat him, mock him, laugh at him when
he was chained and restrained -when they were sure he couldn’t retaliate the courtesy. All of them wanted him dead. Why
keep helping them?

Why should he?

But it was wrong. To kill other people... it was
wrong. To hurt someone... he couldn’t even think about it.

Maybe he was way too kind for his own good. He
wondered if this would change growing up. He doubted it.

Of course Boris wasn’t of the same advice. Of course
he would get angry. Of course he would end up punishing Kai, thing that earned
some smirks from the ones he tried to protect.

Biting his lip he looked at his BeyBlade. Irreverent
people did not last much in the Abbey. He wasn’t dead yet because he was the
first living proof Voltaire’s experiment was a success... the first living boy
who survived the ‘special treatments’.

He really wished it hadn’t been him.

Because maybe, just maybe... death
was better than living this hell. This was not life, at any rate. Torture, maybe, not
life. Each shuddering breath taken in the dark alleys, each tear shed
after Boris ravaged their back with his whip, each day passed by.

Endless pain.

To say people outside thought the Abbey was a school
of BeyBlade and religion. The religion part ended with the guards dressed up as
priests, as far as it was concerned. But who could doubt it? No one cared for
the ones that ended up in there.

Many Russian families -and sometimes even strangers-
were willingly to exchange their offspring with money, seeing that growing a
child was really expensive; homeless children ended up in there as well.

Many came here willingly, wishing for a better life,
meeting with hell instead.

Wasn’t he sick of it all? Yes, he was. Sick of the
training to become the best, sick of the beatings and of the hatred others felt
for him.

Different from them, he hated this too. Wishing to be free, to fly away from this place.

Live as normal people do.

But he wasn’t supposed to, he wasn’t normal.

The change continued settling down, the pain
coming with it fading away in the background as crimson finally overpowered the
golden shade. He blinked twice, shaking slightly his head once more, before
smiling bitterly.

Now, he
was normal.

At least on the outside.

He was punished by the guards because he wasn’t strong
enough. As for strength, he was a mere child. No one could overpower five grown
men... and his real strength was out of his reach.

How amusing.

While he was forced to look, other guards kicked the
boy, until he could no longer move, until death came. Long, painful were the
minutes before he finally stopped breathing, the pain clouding his mind, ending
his torture forever.

Free; in death, but still free.

The others accused him to be responsible. That was
expected. ‘Who cares if he tried to help him? He still is the cause of his
pain, and of his death!’ they said.

Curling up more in a foetal position, as comfortably
as he could without hurting his bounded wrists and ankles, he let a single tear
run down his cheek, just that one, because he was slowly forgetting how to cry.
His tears went dry when he was five.

Plic.

Water dripping on the floor near
him.

He tried not to think about it, his dried and thirsty
throat asking for it, but he knew it was hopeless.

His eyes followed the water as it continued falling on
the stones near him, the rhythmic sound lightly annoying him, knowing there was
cool water not even ten inches away but he couldn’t have it. The chains binding
his wrists were too short to have him reach it, and even if he managed to reach
it, the few drops falling weren’t enough for him to satisfy his thirst.

It could cause people to go insane, just knowing it
was so near and yet so out of reach.

How many died down there, desperate and alone, feeling
their hope disappear with their lives inch by inch? How many surrendered in the
darkness, crying out in despair?

Died of starvation, anguish,
insanity. Too many. All in the
very same cage, haunting the mind of the next unlucky boy who ended up down
there.

Some become hysterical, hurting their own bodies as
they tried to escape; others were afraid of the previous boys’ ghosts, afraid
to become the next ghost. Others waited to die, believing they would become
ghosts and would be free to haunt the next prisoner, in a wicked revenge for
their own sufferings.

Others just let themselves die. To
be finally free.

He refused to think about it. He wasn’t going to die,
he would survive another day. This wasn’t the first time he ended up down
there, having disobeyed the director many, many times before. He withstood
against it once, twice, thrice, he would do it again; there was no problem. He
came out almost dead, on the brink of starvation, but his spirit hadn’t been
tamed.

He didn’t want to die, not now.

It wasn’t his pride keeping him from surrendering to
death, nothing this worthless. The only thing between him and Lady Death was...
revenge.

Revenge against Boris, against the one he used to call
grandfather; one day, he’d be able to return it all. One day...

Something forced him out of his thoughts, as he heard
footsteps. Someone was coming there... but why?

With a low, creaking sound the metallic door started
to open slowly. Even if it was a little line of light, it still was too bright
for the dark accustomed eyes and the slate haired blader was forced to shut his
eyes with a hiss.

The faint glowing of his Bey stopped abruptly.

He could hear someone approach the doorstep, a guard
because otherwise Boris would have been already mocking him. Then as he opened
his eyes again, he confusedly saw the man urge someone... or something...
inside.

The shape connected with the floor with a thud and a
groan of pain, and the door closed again; darkness filled the cage again,
shadows hunting down every sparkle of light until there was none left. Blinking
to accustom his eyes at the sudden change of light, the slate haired blader was
confused and perplexed. There it was; the unmistakable soft noise of breathing;
he could even hear the heartbeat, slightly faster than normal.

That was something unusual, it never happened before.
He was always alone, no one wishing to be near him, near the freak.

Who was this... who was with him now?

Biting his lip he concentrated his piercing hearing on
the breathing, and he heard the shape shifting into a sitting position, his
shallow breathing clearly revealing he was afraid. Afraid of
what, the darkness?

No, not just afraid, but frightened. He could hear him
-or her? Or maybe it...- shiver. The blue haired boy could feel the other’s
eyes searching around, he wasn’t aware there was someone else inside.

Interesting situation. Would have been better hadn’t he being chained to the
wall, covered in blood.

“(Who are you?)” He demanded with a cold and
emotionless voice.

A sharp intake of breath was the only answer he
received. The shape backed away, finally aware he
wasn’t alone in the cage.

The slate haired blader had to remind himself the
other wasn’t a threat, at least not yet. ‘He’s afraid, and he seems not to
know where he is’.

He willed his voice to melt a little -just a little,
and still it was hard.

“(Nothing to be afraid of ... now answer
me)”. Well, that was a lie. ‘Nothing to be afraid of’... well, not from him. Couldn’t be sure about other people though.

A trembling voice, after a long silence, finally
replied, “(My... my name is Yuriy... who are you? Where are we?)”

A flicker of something alerted the young boy’s
attention, something coming from the place the other boy was. As if something
was glowing... glowing blue. Icy deep blue...

Glowing? In the darkness? No
way. Could it be that...?

No, he was just tired and his eyes were tricking him.
He just hallucinated... nothing glowed, nothing at all.

Shaking his head with a sad smile, he decided to
answer, “(my name is Kai, and we are at Balkov Abbey)”.

=End Dream=

Kai’s eyes flashed open, his mind racing, heart
pumping fast in his chest, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

What happened?

Luckily for him, he had always been one to wake up
fast.

He found himself lying on the cold floor, the same he
ended up fainting on... how much time passed? A minute?
An hour? He couldn’t tell. But since he was still on
the floor, he was sure no one realized he was missing, or that he fainted.

His head ached; maybe he hit it while falling. Kai
ignored it, as he stood up once more, berating himself
for what had happened. How could he just... faint?!

Beyond weakness. He fought his entire life against weakness, and now,
some kind of stupid sickness was having the better on him.

How stupid... and still, he couldn’t deny he was
feeling pretty sick at the present moment.

Plus... his dream...

‘Stop,’ he
ordered to himself, shaking his head.

Following this trail of thought made him faint once. Faint.
If someone’d come when he was on the floor, he would end up in the middle of
everyone’s attention, and this was his last desire.

He couldn’t let himself faint again. He would never
stand such humiliation twice. He was not weak.

‘You are not weak, stop acting like one!’ he scolded himself harshly. ‘A whole life learning
how to be strong, how weaknesses could be deathly, how you are meant to be the
best... how could you let such a thing control you?’

He kept repeating this to himself as he stood up, trying
to ignore that little, almost invisible part of him
that was asking why he kept telling himself that. Was it because he really was
strong, or was it because needed to reassure himself? Because he would then
realize he wasn’t as strong as he tried to appear?

His steel concentration went back on his breathing,
after leaning on the wall for support he dragged himself towards the rest room
the attendants assigned to the Japanese team. He was sure he could be anew with
some rest and a glass of water; he knew he was just distressed by all the
things that happened during the last few days... that was
all.

And the dream was just a dream.

Nothing more.

He resumed his mask once again, breathing deeply so to
ease the pain in his head. He was back to his cool façade,
no one could see his internal turmoil.

Confident again he walked -well, he wobbled- until the
door of the room was before his eyes. ‘Few more steps,’ he thought.

He entered the room with a wave of nausea, but this
time Kai willed it away, with fierce determination. ‘It will go away soon’.

The nausea wasn’t really of the same advice, so he
clumsily limped to the bathroom, emptying his stomach twice before finally be able to flush the water and return in the other room,
feeling slightly better.

Collapsing in the nearest bench his sight slid in and
out of focus; the slate haired blader lifted his head only to be met with his
reflection on a mirror before him, on the opposite wall. He jolted in shock
when he saw his eyes flicker of a different colour.

He was surely hallucinating, and his sight was
blurred, this wasn’t even possible.

This was so wrong!

Crimson eyes closed against his will, his ears now
throbbing as well, tingling and aching. Every little sound piercing the silence
made him groan in agony.

“See?! See?! People Love me!”

Kai gritted his teeth in annoyance, slapping one hand
on his forehead. His team was coming. He could hear them all walk down the
corridor, and he didn’t want them to see him like this. Not
at all. He needed to collect himself, and fast, because showing them his
weaknesses could only cause sufferance.

He wouldn’t start being weak now.

Eyes burning up, he resumed his usual emotionless
mask, hiding his turmoil, the pain subsiding for a moment. He straightened up a
little, waiting for them to appear.

Tyson was the first to come. He was singing ‘we are
the champions’ with other words, and nasty references to the Demolition Boys
and Boris, swinging his fist up and down; next was Max, jumping like the blond
bunny he was, huge grin on his lips and equally huge lollipop in his mouth. He
and the bluenette were overjoyed, and were showing it any way they could.

Then there was Kenny. The short teen was still looking
surprised about the whole thing, and was clutching to his laptop as if it was
his only anchor to safety -much like Linus with his blanket in the Peanuts’
strips. Said laptop was busy doing sarcastic remarks about the match.

Last were Rei and Mariah, the latter one supporting
her friend who was still not fully healed after the match against Bryan. His
injuries weren’t that bad, but the doctors told him to rest.

It took them some time to notice Kai was there as
well, and the only thing the crimson eyed teen could hope was that neither
Tyson nor Max would try to hug him. Sure as Hell he could not escape them this
time.

“Kai! Did you see? I won! That Wolf never
stood a chance against me and Dragoon!”

Luckily Kai’s ears were not throbbing anymore, or he
would have fainted straight away. Hating the thought, Kai concentrated hard on
his team mates’ voices.

“Wasn’t he great?!” Max piped
in, just as loud. “The whole stadium couldn’t stop cheering!”

“Hn,” he mumbled in response.

Rei glanced at his team captain suspiciously. He
looked... strange, as if hiding something.

Kai lifted his eyes, strain
clear in their depths, fighting against the weight of his eyelids, and despite
the situation couldn’t but feel rather amused by the disappointment he saw in
Tyson’s face. for how childish and noisy he could be, Kai was more than
accustomed to him and to the rest of the team... almost near friendship.

Almost. He never had any friend. He had never known what
friendship was, before meeting with the BladeBreakers.

But... Tyson deserved compliments this time. He accomplishes
a great task. “You did great,” Kai managed to rasp out without sounding too
pained. He stopped, not able to elaborate more complicate or accurate thoughts,
head aching once more.

But that had been enough. A second of astonishment,
then all of them -except Kai, of course- started laughing, Mariah and Rei as
well.

The door opened again, revealing Mr. Dickinson, Bruce
and Grandpa Granger coming in smiling with clear satisfaction.

Kai fought against the darkness as they complimented
with Tyson, who got his ego inflated even more, if possible; seeing they were
busy with him, Kai took the chance and stood up shakily, heading as quiet as
possible towards the door.

Unfortunately -but when did Lady Luck stay by his
side, anyway?- Bruce looked up from his son’s behaviour
and saw him. “Kai, where are you going?” he called, as the others turned from
Tyson to him.

Cursing his misfortune Kai turned, managing to stand
up and not to fall heavily on the floor, and said, with what he wished was a
cool and steady voice, “I’m waiting for you all in the bus,” he answered before
closing the door behind his shoulders.

Bruce stared with a frown in his direction, wondering
what was wrong with him at all.

“Wonder what’s up with him,” mumbled Tyson, shaking
his head. “I thought he would be different now”.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Finally out in the open, breathing the cold air, Kai
found his mind clearing a bit. At least the guards inside the stadium were
doing their work by keeping the crazy fans away from them.

He wasn’t sure he could escape from a crowd of rabid
fans...

Looking around for the BBA’s conveyance, he had to
admit he was feeling dizzy. Something wasn’t right, as if he’d forget to do
something, and couldn’t remember what.

Frustrating...

‘I never got sick in the Abbey, or at least I can’t
remember it, neither when I was with my grandfather,’ he cursed inwardly. ‘Why now?’

That was true indeed, he was never ill, not a flu,
nothing.

A sudden stab of pain from the back of his neck racked
through his body, making his back arch in spasm as his muscles tensed up; he
hissed from the excruciating pain as he stumbled against the vehicle’s side. He
tried to climb the bus’ ladders, but another stab hit him with force and he
collapsed on the car’s floor, unconscious even before he hit the ground.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cepheus: it
would be nice if you review now, just look down, see
the bottom? Then it’s not hard, a few seconds to add a review, be nice!

And please, refrain to ask about Yuriy, this will be
explained later on.

Max: Have
a nice day!
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Breath of Light