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Scattered Glimpses	By : Kali Category: Beyblade > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2839 -:- 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
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Kali Notes:� Thank you for the comments and reviews!� Sorry about the wait.� Thanks for your patience and enjoy the next
few themes!

Disclaimer:� Kali & Muses do not own Beyblade or its
characters, and make no profit.� We
borrowed them for the sake of this fanfic out of love
for the series and the characters.

Warnings: Rating ranges
from K (G) � NC17 (the NC17 stuff won�t be on ffnet),
as stated for at each chapter; shonen-ai � yaoi content; adult language and situations.

Don�t read if any of this may offend you!

Pairing: Always and ever,
TyKa!

Written
for the KaiTaka / TyKa 100
Themes Art Challenge on deviantArt.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Theme 11 � Memory

�The More Things Change��

Rated: K (G)

Genre: General, Angst

Post-Manga Drabble

Kai�s POV � 1st Person

�� It�s funny, the
things that stick with you.

�� I remember
battles � lots and lots of battles � but sometimes I don�t remember the names
of those I battled.� And sometimes I
remember names but not faces.� There is
even the odd one where I only remember the stadium, but not the blader.

�� I remember
places that I�ve battled, all around the world.�
I can say �Hey! I�ve been to this or that place!� but for the life of me
I can�t remember enough to be able to describe what it was like there.� Not the scenery or the people, not even the
weather.

�� I do remember
certain events quite clearly.� Now that I
think about it, a lot of those are because of � or at least involves somehow �
a certain bluenette World Champion.�
Tyson was forever getting into trouble, getting into something over his
head, or rushing in where angels fear to tread without consideration for his
own safety.� The others and I � mostly me � would always pull him back out
again, though.

�� And there are
all the times that he made a difference for me, for my life.� Because of him I went from punk and gang
leader to world-class blading Champion.�
I went from bully to idol.� All
due to his influence�to Tyson�s belief in me and his unflagging friendship,
something I�ve never known what to do
with.

�� It�s been so long
since I last saw him or had any communication with him.� It was the night after his last official
battle as a World Champion and professional blader, the night he confessed that
he loved me.� It is one of very few
moments in time that I remember with crystal clarity � the fine breeze ruffling
our hair and clothes, the moonlit backdrop of the dojo�s back garden, the
sounds of a typical summer evening and the heavy silence that followed his
quiet voice, the scent of the flowers growing all around in their carefully
plotted rows�all that and the sight of Tyson standing in front of me, fidgeting
nervously, eyes bright with truth and love, fear and hope.

�� That I walked
away from the truly miraculous gift Tyson was to me is proof positive that I am
the biggest, most wretched idiot ever to be born.

�� That I never
responded in kind, never expressed what he meant to me, is proof that I am as
cold-hearted a bastard as many, many people have labelled me over the years.

�� So now, years
later, with a son of my own.� I am faced
with old ghosts and haunted mercilessly by them as I watch Gou battle another
little boy who is eerily, heart-stoppingly familiar
in both appearance and blading style.� I
look down at them and I wonder if that�s how Tyson and I looked back then (albeit
a few years older).

�� As if he can
read my mind � or perhaps, as always, his mind was on the same track mine was �
my greatest rival, my best friend, and only person other than Gou that I�ve
ever loved says quietly from next to me, �Sure brings back memories�� There was a time when we were just like
them.�� I can hear the strange mix of
amusement, nostalgia, sadness and wistfulness in his voice, and my chest
constricts painfully.� As I watch our sons
repeat history in the dish below, I realize that this�this is my last
chance.� If I was to walk away this time,
there would be no further chances, no more forgiveness.� But how do I open a topic that is still a raw
and bloody wound to both of us?� I reach
for my tie, finding it extremely constricting around my throat, and the weight
in my blazer pocket reminds me of how Tyson and I have always communicated
best.

�� One last battle�

�� One last spin of
the Beyblade�

�� One last
opportunity�

�� One last chance
for forgiveness, for happiness, for love.

�� I pull out
Dranzer, and the surprise on Tyson�s face is quickly washed away by an eager,
excited�and understanding grin as he pulls out Dragoon.

�� And as our
blades clash in familiar, tried-and-true attacks, our eyes meet and hold from
across our battleground, where I see everything I�m feeling, and wanting, and
happy for reflected back at me.� I try to
tell him, in a language all our own, that I�m sorry, that I never wanted to hut
him, and that I love him.� �I love you,
Tyson!�� I nearly cry, a plea from my
very soul.

�� Our blades
collide one final time, and is the aftermath, when the dust clears, Tyson holds
out his hand to me.� Some things never
change, and I�m grateful for it.

�� I love you,
too, Kai.�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Theme 12 � Insanity

�Through the Looking Glass�

Rated: K (G)

Genre: General

Season One Drabble

Kai�s POV � 1^st Person

�� I�d always known, from the moment
we started this wacked out journey, that we�d eventually be going to Russia for
the World Championships.� That was, of
course, assuming we actually made it through all our subsequent battles along
the way.� When we started, I was eager
for it � minus the brat pack � because it was always in my plans to go to the
Worlds and defend my title.� And of
course, there was the added bonus of all those bit-beasts that would be mine
for the taking.� Or at least that�s what
Grandfather kept telling me.

�� Now we�re on the bus, heading for
the tournament, all the craziness of the past week behind us and nothing but
determination and anger fuelling our path ahead of us.� I�ve been shown the error of my ways, and
even learned the gift of forgiveness, courtesy of one stubborn, loyal,
annoying, and overly optimistic youth named Kinomiya Tyson.� Lucky for me those qualities of his were
turned on me, otherwise I�d probably be on the other side of the looking glass
even now � plotting their destruction and taking their Spirits for my own.� I�d be lost to Black Dranzer and the power it
guaranteed�at the expense of my soul.

�� Black Dranzer�even now just
thinking the name of that dark blade gives me a thrill.� Shivers.�
Even that small rush of power that was so intoxicating.� Then I feel a jolt of pure heat, shooting up
from my fingertips to my head and down my spine to the tips of my toes.� And just like that, the temptation
dissipates. �Pulling my hand from my
pocket, I look down at the small, innocuous blue blade in my hand and
smile.� Dranzer.� My beautiful phoenix.� She didn�t give up on me any more than Tyson
did.� She even let him wield her, in
order to bring me to my senses.� I have
never been closer to her than now, and all of it is thanks to him.

�� Because of Dranzer, I can think
about that evil blade with clarity.� My
god, the decent into madness was slow, and went completely over my head.� I have to wonder if I ever would have noticed
what was becoming of me if it hadn�t been for Tyson�s insistence that I wasn�t
the power-hungry punk I was trying to be.�
I also have to wonder if Grandfather will come to realize what he�s
really doing to not just me, or those other kids at the Abbey, but to
himself.� I have to wonder if he�ll
suddenly realize how he�s been played like a puppet by Boris, and if it�ll be
too late.

�� The bus lumbers along the icy,
frozen road, but I don�t notice the pretty winter scenery, the kind I never see
back in Japan.� I�m too lost in my
thoughts.� I don�t even notice when
someone carefully makes his way to the back of the bus to sit down next to me.

�� Kai?� You okay, man?�

�� Huh?� Oh.�
I�m fine, Kinomiya.�

�� You sure?� You looked really�zoned out there for a moment.�

�� I roll my eyes and finally look
at him.� �I said I�m fine.� What did you want?� You didn�t come back here just to ask me how
I was.�

�� He gave me a stormy-eyed
scowl.� �And why not?� Friends are allowed to be concerned about
each other, aren�t they?� Especially when
they�ve gone through things like what you have.�

�� Sighing, I shrug.� �Kinomiya, I appreciate the sentiment, but
there�s no need to worry about me.� Not
anymore.�

�� He grinned and nudged me in the
side.� �I think I�ll be the judge of
that, Kai.�

�� I don�t say anything, but I do
allow a small smile to grace my expression.�
It�s enough.� He gets up, going
back to the others, calling out something about snacks.

�� Huh.� Maybe I�ve traded one kind of insanity for
another.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Theme 13 � Misfortune

�Luck Be A Lady�

Rated: K+ (PG)

Genre: General

Post-Series Drabble

Tyson�s POV � 1st Person

�� Over the years,
I�ve had a lot of people ask me how I won so many matches, so many
championships, so many accolades.� Was it
purely skill?� Was it some kind of
special training regime?� Was I born with
a blade in one hand and a launcher in the other?

�� I�d usually
answer all three with a �Yes!� � the last with humour as a joke.

�� Then there were
others who weren�t as nice about it, either out of jealousy, envy, or a lack of
understanding.� They would imply (or even
openly state) that I was only as good as my teammates, that they must have
carried me through the majority of our successes.� I couldn�t possibly be good enough to have
won so often on my own.� Even later, when
I was no longer battling with Max, Rei, and Kai but against them on opposing teams, there were even some snide (not to
mention ludicrous) comments along the lines of how they must have let me
win.� The first time I heard that I was so furious I actually punched
a hole in the wall, nearly breaking my fingers.�
I sprained two and ripped up and bruised the others anyway.

�� Surprisingly,
Hilary didn�t immediately jump all over me for being stupid, injuring myself,
and jeopardizing my blading career.�
Instead, she just quietly cleaned and bandaged my fingers, calmly
ordered me to repair the wall before Gramps saw it, and got me some
ibuprofen.� After I�d taken the pain medication,
she pointed out the obvious to me � that the people saying such things were
ignorant.� Ignorant of me, of my friends,
and of the game itself.� Because if they
knew anything about any of it, they would know better and never say such stupid
things.

�� The next time I
heard it, I very nearly busted a gut laughing.

�� But the one that
truly bothered me was the belief that I only got so far due to chance, due to
pure luck.� And this idea was one I heard
quite commonly from other bladers.� I�ve heard this theory over and over again
through the years and it never ceases to give me pause, to make me second-guess
myself even though I know better.

�� It�s always Kai
who sets me straight on that topic.� �Of
course there�s an element of luck to what we do, Kinomiya.�� He doesn�t hold back hard truths, either.� �Like it or not, luck is always a part of
life, even blading.� The point is that
you don�t let luck determine the outcome.�
You treat it as a momentary roadblock, figure out how to get around it
and back on your path, and then win anyway.��
Then he smirks at me, that infuriating, superior, smug one that drives
me nuts.� �Though some of our matches have been the result of luck.�

�� My big mouth
opens and out comes the snappy comeback before it registers � and insert both
feet I do.� �Yeah, whenever you win, Hiwatari!�

�� which results
in a snarl, sharp, flashing eyes of pure flame, and a beybattle of the
�until-we-both-drop-dead-of-exhaustion� kind.�
Or the hottest, hardest � and oft-times kinkiest � sex of our
relationship.� Either way, let�s just say
I really feel it for the next couple of days, and the alpha in Kai purrs like a
big, contented cat in a sunbeam for weeks.

�� These days I
don�t compete anymore.� Not
professionally.� Neither do any of our
old team, including Kai.� Thus the
disparaging comments about my lack of skill or whatever have also died off,
since� no one cares enough about pick up
where we left off, and learn the rules and spirit of the game for
themselves.� And in doing so, I�ve
finally gotten over the sting of those nasty words about luck.

�� I think about my
victories, and of my friends and their families.� I look at my son.� And finally, I look at Kai.� And I decide that if Lady Luck loves me
enough to give me all these wonderful, beautiful gifts, then I�m alright with
stupid people believing whatever they want of me.

�� Because I�m the
luckiest man in the world.

�� And damn
grateful for it.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Theme 14 � Smile

�Candid Camera�

Rated: K+ (PG)

Genre: Humour, Romance

Dialogue Fic

3rd Person POV

�� Agh!� This is
impossible, Chief!�

�� Tyson, I warned
you about this.� There are simply too
many pictures to go through.�

�� I can�t believe
how shutter-happy you�ve all been over the years!� Between you and Max and Hilary, there�s got
to be what?� A thousand here?� More?�

�� I haven�t
counted.� And why are you suddenly so
desperate to go through all these?� And
why right now?�

�� Because I�m
putting together a scrapbook and I want all the best pictures we have to go
into it.� But I�m�missing a few.�

�� A
scrapbook?� Since when were you that
domesticated?�

�� I am not!� It�s just that I�m usually not very organized
and this is important and I never want to forget anything so��

�� You could have
just said so.� I�d have made you a
digital album, Tyson.�

�� No.� Thanks anyway, Kenny, but this is something
special.� I�m not�computers are�they�re
too impersonal to me.�

�� I don�t know if
I should be offended or not.�

�� I said �to
me!�� I�m sure if you made one it would
be very nice and really cool with the effects and all, but��

�� Okay,
okay.� I get it.� Here, this is a good one of Rei and the White
Tigers.� Add it to your �keep� pile.�

�� Thanks.�

�� So�what other
pictures are you looking for.� Giving me
an idea would help me look through these faster.�

�� I don�t�I need
some decent ones of�Kai.�

�� What?� But��
Oh, right.� I suppose I should
have thought of that.� Mr. Anti-Social
doesn�t exactly stand there and let people photograph him.�

�� He�s not
anti-social, Chief, he�s just�a solitary soul.�
Can you blame him?�

�� No.�� Sigh.�
�He is a royal grump, though.�

�� Haha!� Yeah.� Gee, Chief�did he grouch at you again?� You�re all scowl-faced.�

�� He said I need
to stop relying on my computer so much if I want to be able to blade on par
with the rest of the team, should I ever need to substitute for one of you
again.�

�� Well, you
do.� Sometimes your gut is more reliable
than a computer chip, Chief.� But still,
you did really well against Tala � of all people � when you subbed for me.�

�� Whatever.� I keep up in my own way!� And hey, getting back on topic, what�s with
the blushing when you�re talking about Kai?�

�� Urk!� I�m not!� It�s just�warm in here.�

�� It�s a cool
spring day and your door is wide open to the outdoors.� It is not warm.� Try again.�

�� It�s
nothing!� Get off my case, Chief.�

�� Look, if you�re
worried about me or the others finding out about you and Kai�stop
worrying.� We�ve known forever.�

�� WHAT?!�

�� Yeah.� You two couldn�t be more obvious if you�d
gotten down and dirty on the floor in front of us.�

�� Gah!� Kenny!� You hentai!�

�� Whatever.� It�s true.�
And by the way, if you wanted a picture of Kai�why don�t you just take
one?� I�m sure if you asked he�d let
you.�

�� Are you
kidding?� No way!�

�� Then don�t
ask.� Catch him off guard!�

�� I�ll have to
try, I guess.� I really�want one of him
with a smile.� It�s so rare.� I was hoping to find a decent one in these��

�� Don�t worry,
Tyson.� He�d do anything for you if you
asked sincerely.� Don�t think I haven�t
noticed.�

�� You�re truly
scary sometimes, Chief.�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Theme 15 � Silence

�Eternal Silence�

Rated: T (PG-13)

Genre: Romance

Post-series drabble fic

Kai�s POV � 1st person

�� I hate to admit
it, but Tyson was right.� For once I can
honestly agree with him.

�� He said to me,
when we were suspended between the cosmos and reality somewhere, that he loves
blading so much because he forgets about everything but the battle.� He becomes entirely focused on the game, on
the spin of the blade and the movements of his blade and his opponent�s
blade.� It�s like the rest of the world
around him fades away.

�� I think I�ve
found this for myself.� It�s the
stillness that fills me in battle.� The
calm and power.� Even during a tough,
dangerous battle like the ones I fought against Brooklyn - both times � somehow
I found an inner balance and peace deep down inside myself that I�d never felt
before.

�� Except when I�d
battled Tyson in the World Final.

�� It should have
scared me, I guess, when I realized it, but it didn�t.� It just felt right.� It feels right.� I want nothing more than to keep that
feeling, horde it like treasure.�
Everyone needs a happy place, and for Tyson and I�I guess that�s
it.� We focus on nothing else, nobody
else, and we are synchronized and polarized all at once.

�� Now I have a
problem, because I find that I�m seeking out that same silence in everything I
do, living my life.� Nothing ever
satisfies, though, and I�m beginning to wonder if maybe, having reached that
pinnacle of serenity, I can no longer reach it.

�� Then Tyson is
with me, at my side, in my bed (or me in his), and I glimpse that place from so
long ago.� I glimpse it, and then fall
into it gratefully, eagerly.� And he�s
right there with me through the tumble.�
I am blessed�we both are.� To have
this with another person is a miracle and a blessing.

�� Twice blessed,
then, as we have two ways to achieve a perfect silence where we need no words
to communicate.� The bey-dish�and
our bodies in a battle of another kind that�s older than time, cut only by the
frantic beating of our hearts in counterpart with each other.

�� It�s the best
sound I ever hear.
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Scattered Glimpses