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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
- 3
- 4
- 5
Blackrose: Well, the Rei/Bryan gets a little further
underway this chapter, though this is a mainly Tala thinking about random crap
chapter.

Kitz� Melody: Ah, well, hello to you too! I�m glad
that you seem to pick up what I�m trying to do, with the angst and humor
balancing each other out. Not done so well in this chapter but, hopefully it�ll
just scrape past the mark. Thanks so much for your sweet comment; it�s very
welcome and appreciated.

Racoona: I�m glad you think it�s so alive, but I�m
bringing Black Dranzer into it, so there�ll probably be a bit of crap about the
bitbeasts in the next few and later chapters. Hopefully though, I�ll find a way
to balance it all out. Thanks for reading.

Virpi: Sorry about the wait, but this chapter�s 6600
words, so it should be nicely satisfying in that respect. Hope you like.

Now, to my lovely little readers, this isn�t an exactly
happy chapter, not very exciting, possibly confusing (there�s a nice weird
little dream somewhere in there), and not very fluffy, but it�s necessary, and
yes, when you meet her you will think Domeka is a Mary-Sue, but I assure you
she is not. One of the elements of a Mary-Sue is that they are rescued in pure
Mary-Sue fashion by their Knight in Shining Armour on the White Stallion (or a
similar alternative) and fall in love and then all their troubles are over.
Domeka, however, will not be falling in love; all of her troubles are not going
to just dissipate, and I will not tolerate any Domeka-bashing, because
underneath all of her craziness she�s just a sweet, broken and anti-social
young lady.

Um� disclaimer� don�t think I�ve done one at all�. : I do
not own any characters, terms or settings familiar from BeyBlade. And I�m only
saying it once, so take note of it!

Now, for the chapter�.

Shattered Porcelain

Weeks of hard training came and went, my baby sister�s
birthday passing, and the last days of autumn melting into the frozen clutches
of winter as we arrived in a silvered, snow-dusted St. Petersburg. It was like
stepping into a city of pastel azure and powder white dreams, surreal and alive
with the semblance of gossamer winter.

I didn�t want to be there.

It was beautiful, the magnificent manor were staying at, all
dark ancient timbers and delicate windows. It was huge, and completely
isolated, surrounded by an orchard and hundreds of bare limbed trees that were
grey with sleet and glittering in the insipid sunlight with melted snow. The
sky seemed to reflect the colouring of the powdery snow that carpeted the
lawns, an artic wash of pale blues faded to greys and complete with feathery
silver clouds that whispered as close to the ground as they could.

But despite the fairytale setting, I didn�t want to be
there.

There was just something about St. Petersburg now, something
that hadn�t been here five years ago. I�d left to Moscow then, to the Abbey,
and this was the first time I�d been back in St. Petersburg. I couldn�t really
remember what the city was like when I was younger � all the tampering done
with my brain and all of the training with the BioVolt bitbeasts had a
devastating effect on my memory.

Tap...

Tap�

Tap�

Tap� - � Tap�
- � Tap�

Tap� Tap� Tap� Tap�

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap

Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap

TapTapTapTapTap �

�Yuri! I swear if you don�t cut that out I�ll break
your hand!� Bryan�s voice bellowed out of the impatient silence, and I silently
glanced up at him, my hand stilling against the table as I chewed my lip
cautiously.

Oops, I swear I hadn�t meant to do it. I was just
nervous about seeing the girls again. That�s why we were here, the five
original Demolition Boys. The girls were coming in from wherever they�d been
staying at today, and we still hadn�t told Bryan, Ian and Spencer about
Kristan.

Kai tore his eyes away from the paper he was reading to look
at us both, his brows furrowing as he gave a disapproving click of his tongue.
�Two days in Russia and you�re already acting like Punch and Judy.�

�You can be Judy,� I remarked instantly, turning in my seat
to face Bryan, who pinned me with a pale, wintry glower.

Rolling my eyes skyward, I turned back to Kai, �Where�d the
others go?� I asked, referring to the other teams and wondering what sort of
trouble my Ty-koi was getting himself into. Probably not nearly as much as Paradox-C,
the junior team that we�d been paired with. Three girls and one boy, all aged
under eleven. What was the BBA trying to do? Kill us or torture us to the point
of suicide? All four of the little rug rats were crazy!

�They�ve gone on a sightseeing tour. They�ll be back in time
for lunch, although Hillary, Mariah, Rei, Max, Oliver and Kevin have planned to
go and �catch-up� at one of the caf�s for lunch instead.�

�Are you in charge of Hillary as well, seeing as she�s
always tagging along with you lot?� The question flew out of my mouth before I
realised what I was saying, and it occurred to me that I didn�t give a rats
arse whether she was or not. I frowned inwardly, wondering why the hell I had
asked that question. Curiosity, I suppose, because though I was the captain of
my team, Spencer was the eldest and therefore the supervisor.

Kai exhaled a little exasperatedly, his nose wrinkling
slightly, �Sure am. All of them except
Rei, because he�s sixteen and therefore counted as a senior Beyblader. And I�m
in charge of �Saints�� his voice rolled over the name of his junior team
in slight mockery, � as well. But anyone aged 16 doesn�t need a supervisor. So,
Mariah and Rei can stay out until the curfew, but the rest of them have until
their supervisor�s given curfew expires. I gave Hillary and Max until 1pm,� he
laughed, dark eyes lit with a glimmer of mirth. Evil bastard, giving them only
half an hour.

A sharp hiss of breath exuded from Bryan, and the room
seemed to chill another 10 degrees. He�d been like this every training session,
every moment we shared with both the BladeBreakers and the White Tigers for the
past six weeks, and now it seemed that just mentioning them was enough to
trigger his foul mood.

Through the corner of my eye I saw Spencer and Ian exchange
rather exasperated glances and it then dawned on me that I wasn�t the only one
that had noticed this connection between the White Tigers and Bryan�s bad
moods.

Silence fell over us, the vibrations of the room humming
annoyingly in my ear, and occasionally a loud smack as Ian and Spencer played
some ridiculous game that involved slapping each other as hard as possible in
the palm. Kai had gone back to reading his paper, and Bryan was brooding again,
the shadows splaying across his delicate features. As scary as he was, Bryan
did have a very feminine look about him, the lines of his shoulders, the
sculpture of his face, curve of his lips, it�s all so refined, so delicate. So
feminine.

�Feminine?�
Bryan�s dark voice repeated gruffly, and I felt a sharp pain burst through my
mouth as my teeth bit into the inside of my cheek.

Coughing loudly and deliberately, my cheeks feeling as
though they had ignited into pure, crimson heat, and my eyes darted to the
floor� �Hehe�� I chuckled weakly, �Did I really say that out loud?� I swallowed
sheepishly, cowering as a throbbing vein near Bryan�s temple became visible.
Meep�.

Ian and Spencer were sniggering behind Bryan, and I sent
them a dark glare for not helping me out, which just resulted in them both shaking
their heads and their snickers increasing in volume. To my left, an amused
smirk had crossed Kai�s face as he watched Bryan glare at me and me melt away
under it�s influence.

�Yes, Tala, you did,� he grated, his voice unwavering. �But
you should be careful that you aren�t fooled by my deceptive feminine appearance,
because you know very well that if you push the wrong buttons with me, things
might possibly get nasty. Very nasty.�

I sank back into chair, folding my arms over my chest
miserably, �Well aren�t you just a ray of sunshine,� I muttered in a low tone,
condemning Bryan for his recent edginess. What the hell was up his arse anyway?
I shot a quick blue look at him, and somehow miraculously it pierced straight
through his darkened composure and I saw the way his eyes flickered with a
glimpse of panic or something close to it as I spoke.

Ray of sunshine� Ray. Rei�

Oh shit! Go
me with my bad self, genius-boy. I�ve figured it out!

Bryan likes Rei! That was why he�d been so irritable
at training, because both Mariah and Rei had been there. With a smug expression
drawn about my face, I shifted in my chair, my fingers idly twisting a skein of
red hair between them. Ian and Spencer�s silent conversation of exchanges of
grins, sniggers and raised eyebrows continued, and as Ian cast a long sideways
glance at Bryan and Spencer rolled his eyes in the same exasperated way as
before and looked up, his eyes locking with mine. In that short instant I
realised that they knew about Bryan�s frustration with watching Mariah and Rei
around each other. In fact, I had a small idea that the entire time they�d been
back there giggling it had been about Bryan�s infatuation.

The sound of paper crinkling caught my attention, and I saw
Kai throw his newspaper down on the table and shoot Ian and Spencer a stare
that said �Grow up and get over it� with a sort of �or else� quality to it.
Their stifled laughter melted into the silence instantly, and the entire room
went still and uncomfortable.

Without warning, the door clicked open, and she entered.

�

Oh God. There was a sight that could turn even the
darkest midnight sky white with radiance.

Domeka. My Domeka. My beautiful, fragile, broken Domeka
- completely unchanged at all in the stagnant months that had passed since I
last saw her.

Two skeins of liquid ebon hair still fell into her eyes -
molten gold eyes that were coloured by pools of amethyst purple. Her eyes
always confused me; they were neither purple or topaz, just a perfect
combination of both. Half of her blonde and raven veils of hair were in
hundreds of tiny plaits tied in black elastics, the rest of hair falling down
naturally, in individual locks that were perfectly kinked. She wore a green and
black striped beanie, covering half her ears and the end of a faint,
cross-shaped scar below her left temple. She had a beautiful face, perfectly
shaped, coloured with the most celestial shade of gold and set with a delicate
little nose and thickly lashed eyes. As always her cheeks were slightly pink,
as though kissed by rose petals, and her right cheekbone sported the shining
scar of a burn that spread up to the corner of her eye and out to an inch from
her ear in the warped shape of a long triangle. I hated that scar, but it
somehow made her all the more beautiful to me, all the more who she was. And
she was beautiful, like a flawless porcelain doll. Boris� little toy girl. It
was a curse more than anything � she had been Boris� favourite� all of
their favourites. Every guard, Boris and every one of his associates� they all
wanted her.

She never asked for it, she never once did anything to
warrant their interest in her. Even now, as I studied her in stunned
speechlessness, she was wearing a pair of brown leather pants and a pale beige
cardigan that hid her undeveloped figure completely. She never did anything.
Except be beautiful.

She came over to me, and sat in the chair beside me,
brushing a cold finger against my face, under my left eye, her face entirely
void of any expression, besides the usual emptiness of her eyes. Her hand drew
away, the tip of her index finger sparkling with� tears.

I�d been crying? I blinked, sapphire blue eyes narrowing as
they fixed themselves on her fingertip. I hadn�t even realised.

Her body stiffened as she tucked her knees up to her chest
on her chair, her little finger linking with mine. I thought she looked a
little sadder than usual, close to tears that she would never shed. I watched
as she looked around the room, sending little glances of recognition to Kai,
Bryan, Ian and Spencer. It was enough, for them, because we all knew that
Domeka didn�t like to be connected to others. That simple glance was the most
affection she could usually bear to display.

Except with me. I was different. She could touch me,
and that was what made our relationship so special. I�d slept with her even,
once, and we�d had our fair share of dark, heavy moments of doomed romance.
Though looking back on it, I think it was more our desperation to feel something
that drove us to it, because our relationship wasn�t romantic or sexual in the
slightest. Just the fact that there was a relationship between us, between
someone and Domeka, Little Miss. Unconnected, made it special.

And I was so very grateful.

Three people followed her in. Three girls, more specifically.

Tatiana Belanov,
Kristan�s 12-year-old sister, threw herself into Bryan�s arms, burying her head
in his chest. She looked just like Rista, only smaller and with a slightly
more-rounded nose. They both had, or at least one of them did now, long brown
hair streaked with darkest sugar pink that fell with a sort of starched quality
to its straightness. It didn�t look soft or silken, though whenever it carried
on a breeze it lost that stiff appearance and turned to whispers of chocolate
and pink. She was unique, Tatiana, or Taya as we�d nicknamed her, not beautiful
like Domeka, but definitely unique, all pink and brown hair, skin whiter than
sand and eyes of the most dazzling, blinding silver � metallic, electrifying
and lashed with soft spikes of sable. With a stab of sadness I noticed the gold
chain she wore around her neck now had two charms on it, both BitChips, one of
a golden, coppery fox she named Veo, and the other of wingless, silver
water-dragon. Gaxuxa; Kristan�s beast, the one she had once defeated Dranzer
with.

The last of the older girls was named Veronika, Riki, and
she was on equal terms with all of us, though she tended to spend more time
with Kristan than anyone. I wondered how she had been since Kristan died, with
only Taya to talk to, as Dom was so reserved. She was glad to see us; I could
see her jubilation twinkling in the honeyed depths of her eyes, as her lips
formed a trembling smile, Spencer tugging on the end of her long, flaxen braid.
It was one of his little affectionate gestures towards her, playing with her
hair. He even used to braid her bangs and tie them with ribbons when we were
younger. And, being the bastard that I am, I�ve never stopped giving him shit
about it.

�Raven!?� I heard Kai�s voice splutter incredulously. We all
looked up. Well, the boys did anyway.

Raven?

�We were told that you died� your � illness. That - that
cold�� Kai�s voice trailed off as slid out of his chair, falling to his knees
and catching the smallest of us all around the waist, burying his face in hair
the colour of her name.

�Silly,� Raven�s small voice scolded him, yet there was no
acidity in her tone, �Everyone knows that Uncle Voltaire is a liar.�

Oh yeah. That�s right. She was a Hiwatari, through and
through, though Voltaire wasn�t really her uncle, but the cousin of her late
grandfather. Everything about Raven screamed Hiwatari � the triangular blue
birthmarks, not only on her face but also her left wrist like a tattooed
bracelet; and the eyes of the brightest blue, a signature of Hiwatari descent.
Kai has his grandmother�s eyes, so I�m told, just like his mother. Despite her
age Raven was one of the most determined and developed Beybladers I have ever
seen, including both Tyson and Kai. Saranzer, her bit, is the ice phoenix
equivalent of Dranzer, both passed down through the Hiwatari line � Saranzer
for the females, Dranzer for the males.

�Where�s Kristan?� Bryan asked out of nowhere, and I felt my
insides turn to ice and shatter.

Ah fuck.

Both Domeka and Riki arched their eyebrows and looked at me
with questioning eyes.

Domeka turned to face Bryan, opening her mouth as she
thought of how to tell him.

�She�s dead, Bryan.�

It hadn�t been Domeka, but Tatiana, whose face had suddenly
dawned a stern expression, her lips pressed into a tight, flat line of pale
pink. I�d never heard her sound so grown up before, or look so serious. Kai had
dropped his head to Raven�s shoulder, and the end of Riki�s braid slipped from
Spencer�s motionless hand.

Domeka leaned over me and brushed her hand over Bryan�s. He
stilled at the simple gesture, because Domeka initiating physical connection to
someone was a very damned big deal.

�She has been for a long time, Bryan. Months now, Bryan.
Months,� her voice went still, and I realised that was the first time I�d heard
her speak in a very long time.

Spencer�s face, I noted with stunned realisation, had
suddenly gone very pale, sadness welling in his eyes instead of tears. �How?�

�She had a miscarriage,� Domeka had fallen silent, and
probably wouldn�t speak again until much later, so Riki had responded to
Spencer�s question. �Boris�� the name tumbled from her trembling lips, holding
numbing impact.

Bryan had gently set Tatiana in the seat beside him before
storming out of the room, his movements jerky with the oppression of his abrupt
torrent of anguish. Riki rose out of her chair to follow him, but Spencer
caught her by the forearm. �Leave him to grieve, Veriki. Solitude comforts him,
we all know that.�

She nodded, sitting back down as the door opened again,
hazel eyes transfixed on the floor.

My eyes nearly fell out of my head, and Kai looked as though
he�d nearly swallowed his tongue.

�Mom? What the hell are you doing here?�

Capucine flashed him a grin, ruffling her son�s blue hair
with a slender hand, �Mr. Dickinson called me a few weeks back about the
tournament so I�ve been assigned as the girls� team manager. And he�s sent me
up here now to tell you that it�s lunch time.�

�You look well, not a day over 30,� I teased, and she rolled
her eyes at my joke, as we all stood up from our chairs to head down to the
dining hall.

Thing was, she was only 29, having been only 13 when she
fell pregnant, but parents of Kai�s friends assumed that, like them, she was
somewhere in her early forties and always remarked at how young she looked.

�Not for much longer,� she replied darkly, kissing Kai on
the temple, and stroking a hand through Raven�s hair. �I�m getting old.�

Upon hearing this Kai must have decided that she needed help
getting around, and he scooped her up into his arms and folded her over his
shoulder. �Oi! Put me down now! You do not do this to your mother.�

Kai just laughed at her, patting her on the back and
spinning around in a slow circle.

�Kai Sacha-Elye! Put me down! I�m not that old!�

With another laugh, he set her down, holding her steady as
she stumbled, and she glared up at her six-inch taller son through the light,
silver blue hair of her fringe, the darker masses of blue completely
dishevelled and tumbling over her shoulders, but her dark look melted away as
she threw her arms around his shoulders, standing up on her toes to kiss his
cheek.

�Ya tebya lyublyu,� she whispered softly.

�Love you too, Mom.�

�So what have you been up to?� I asked Domeka from my bed,
folding my arms behind my head and sliding over the soft, peach-flesh yellow
coverlet which was cold despite the room�s electric heating.

She shrugged; causing the flow of her cascading hair to
ripple and shimmer in the light of the room we were in. �Not much. Training, fruitless
searches for family, being condemned to the pitying eyes of psychiatrists and
their pointless questions.�

My lips tightened in
the corners, forming a slight grimace. �You didn�t find any of your family?�

�No. We were looking for the Belanov�s and the
Kudretsyeva�s. I was more intent on finding Taya�s and Veronika�s families.
They need them more than I do,� she replied softly, sipping on the glass of
water I�d gotten her. �You and the others are the only people that ever meant
anything to me. And I know that my mother and grandmother are dead, but I don�t
even know what my real surname is, Tala. I don�t even know if I�m Spanish or
French. I�m Basque - I could be from anywhere. Besides, people and
relationships mean very little to me, with a few special exceptions,� she added
quietly, pointedly sending me a golden slash of purple.

�And the psychiatrists?�

Topaz-violet eyes darkened considerably, a frustrated frown
marring her near-impeccable features. �The blasted BBA woman that Mr. Dickinson
got to take care of us seemed to think that because I only converse with a few
select people I am insane. Because of her accusation I was subjected to four
months of psychiatric analysis.�

Raising an eyebrow at her statement, I shot her a darkened
look of bitter steel blue. �Might have had something to do with the nice ugly
scars you�ve given yourself, Dom, and perhaps the fact that you probably weigh
about 95 pounds.�

As I expected, her expression didn�t change in the
slightest, as though my words had no affect on her� because it didn�t. �None of
that matters Tala. You know that, of all people.�

I did know that, but it bothered me that she was so casual
when it came to her problems, to all of her twisted black emotions, to her
hate, and the love that left her soul so ragged and scathed.

�Where did you bury her? Kristan, I mean.�

Silence. Domeka sat back and observed me from under her
long, black eyelashes, lips a shade somewhere between pink and peach quirking
slightly upwards in one corner into half a sad smile.

�Next to September and Velika.�

�Really?� I asked in a small voice, feeling an
undecipherable emotion rise inside me.

Dom nodded, black hair swaying in front of her eyes. �We
didn�t want her to be isolated somewhere in a graveyard, so we buried her with
your family.�

�Have you been okay since� since�� The tail of my question
lingered between us in the silence.

I felt her little finger hook around mine, and her hands
were absolutely freezing. �I�m as well as I have ever been,� she told me softly,
but for some reason her words did nothing to quell my concern for her.

Playing absently with one of her minuscule plaits, Domeka
sat down beside me on the bed, discarding her beanie to the vacant pillow. Yep,
that�s right. I�m captain so I get the double bed. Spencer, Ian and Bryan all
get singles, and the brat-pack junior team get the bunks in the corner. With a
pale hand I reached upwards to trace the smooth expanse of her healed burn,
feeling the cold skin slide beneath my fingertip. I loved that she didn�t
flinch at my touch, and it was only my touch that she could accept. I loved
that she was mine.

But I hated that scar. Hated it.

�Do you want me to get you something to eat, Dom?� We�d
missed lunch to come up here and catch up, but I was planning on taking Tyson
out to see some of the city tonight and could get eat then.

Shaking her head slowly she answered my question silently. I
wasn�t going to argue with her, especially over food. Last time I had was back
at the Abbey, when I�d found her kneeling down in the shower with her fingers
down her throat, covered in faded bruises that I thought Boris had given
her. That was until I realised that he didn�t want her marred, because she was
his little pet, and he liked her perfect.

Unfortunately I wasn�t the only one that had figured that
out, and I realised that when she decided that she was going to make herself
ugly so that no one would want her, make herself what he didn�t want her to be.
He wanted a woman, so she stayed a girl; underdeveloped and somehow, spiting
all the circumstances, naive. He wanted perfection and beauty, so she did
everything she could to strip herself of it. Hence I hate that burn so much.

And thinking these thoughts made me curious�

I swear I
heard her roll her eyes as I began undoing the buttons of her cardigan,
stripping her of it and revealing the thin beige tank top she wore beneath it.
My eyes shut in reflex when I saw her, a bitter sigh rushing into the silence,
but I opened them to look her directly in the eye in a way that told her I
wished she�d stop doing it.

�Barkatu�� she whispered softly in her mother tongue, Basque
- Euskara, a language I didn�t understand. �Prastite,� she said again, this
time in Russian.

Oh. Sorry. �Don�t be Dom,� I told her,
demanded her, though my tone was careful, as my fingers trailed over her
shoulders. I needed to touch her, and I knew that she needed to feel me. She
could only feel me.

It wasn�t a sexual
touch � it was never a sexual touch with Domeka, not anymore anyway. My
fingers gingerly brushed over the hundreds of self-inflicted bruises, some
fresh, some faded, that marched so violently over her skin. Taking her hands in
mine, I let out a sad breath as she turned her wrists and revealed her forearms
to me. Tiny, angry red streaks of pain glared up at me from her pale gold skin,
where she�d cut her skin with a razor. I�d seen worse on her - much, much worse
- but the sight of her injuries still made me cringe.

I always read stories about girls that hurt themselves,
written by people that had no idea about such a matter, and their characters
always cut deep enough to bleed the darkest blood, enough to make their blood flow.
But that wasn�t the case here; in fact, I doubted that was the case with the
majority of people that hurt themselves. I knew for a fact that Domeka only cut
herself deep enough for the slightest sliver of a silver scar to remain. They
bled, for sure, but only tiny little droplets that she blotted away with
tissues and then stashed in a metal box that she had gotten a set of artist�s
pencils in.

Short, bitter laughter barked through the silence, the gaze
of a set of shadow-filled gold-flecked eyes meeting mine, and my nerves jumped
as they reacted to a cold thumb brushing under my lip. �If I didn�t love you,
Tala, I�d hate you for caring so much,� she said to me, in a tone that was rare
to hear. Her voice always sounded like liquid gold, heavenly and precious, but
just now it had been affectionate, full of contentment - completely raw and
brutally so. �For being able to know what I try so damned hard to keep hidden.�

We were silent then, my eyes fluttering closed, my breathing
hushed. I find it comforting to know that some silences hold so much more
meaning than actual words do, than actual conversing. Feeling a cold little
finger hook around mine, I cracked my eyes open enough to peer from under
lowered black lashes to see Domeka close her eyes and slip away into the
peaceful grasp of unconsciousness, little plaits of ebon and blonde and skeins
of loose hair whispering over her bare shoulders and falling against the finely
sculpted face she hated so much. I grinned at the sight, no matter how
fractured and unstable she was, no matter how her crazy behavior seemed to be
her sanity, she was still my Domeka, and she was as cute and lovable as I had
ever seen her.

My eyes shut again, and I soon fell asleep with her faint
scent of sweet, ripened apricots and soft white roses sweet in my every breath.

Who are you?

Why are you looking at me like that? Like I know you�

Do I know you?

I know your eyes � or I think I do. Sparkling chips of
crystal bathed in violet-blue light, taking on its tranquil midnight semblance�

They have a familiar quality about them� and perha-

You�re smiling at me now� Well I think you are. Your face
is shrouded in gossamer shadows, all but your smiling eyes hidden behind veils
of smoky sable darkness�

I can see your body; clad in a neat black suit, complete
with a tie the very colour � and a stunning colour in my opinion � of your
eyes. You�re young� 12-ish, joyous, very proper and refined� and a boy,
unless the firm lines of your body, and the youthful glitter that lights your
eyes do deceive me.

I think you�re saying something, but I can�t hear your
voice at all � I can�t hear anything, actually, now that I think of it � nor
can I see your lips move.

Oh. You�re sitting at the top of a stair banister. Nope,
now you�re standing.

Why?

What are you going to do? You�re not jumping are
you? I peer over the edge of the banister�

And into endless, curling mists of black, rising up in
billowing vapours of sable to coil around my feet and ankles. I stumble,
feeling my ankles tremble under my unbalanced weight and nearly fall backwards�

I�m standing on the staircase� The staircase� I
know this staircase� It�s � it�s the staircase�

So does that mean you�re�

No. Ha. Of course you�re not a chibi version of my father.
His eyes were like droplets of the sun�s blood, the very same burnt vermilion
of his hair. As my hair. But you do
look familiar�

Who are you?

You�re just smiling again.

The sparkle in
your eyes has died away just now�you know something - I think� Your eyes are
shadowed with a burden of knowledge�

You aren�t smiling any more.

Wh- what�s that sound? Who�s crying?

Is someone crying? Someone little�a- a child� Where are
they?

You�re saying something again� but I can�t hear you.

The cry is growing louder� It�s more of a sob, now that I
can hear it more distinctly. A painful, sickly wail coming from a child� a hurt
child, perhaps� It�s not stopping, and no longer getting louder, just
continuing�

In a monotonous cycle� It�s just one sob, I realise, just
one single wail echoing over and over again.

I look up at him again, and he straightens up on the
banister, a light that had no evident source shining into his hair,
illuminating it�s brown tresses with astral blue light� Is that the same
light that colours your crystal eyes, little boy?

He doesn�t even smile this time, doesn�t even look my way�
he just� peers over the edge of the banister again �

And jumps.

The dark mist solidifies, and shatters like fractured glass,
reflecting its own glossy blackness, dispersing into nothingness�

The boy simply evanescences mid-air�

A pungent, tart scent rolls forward like an invisible
plague, hitting me with full force and sending my head spinning in a crimson
vortex.

Blood. Everywhere. I peer over the edge of the
banister, as the dark, age-streaked wood turns slick with gleaming scarlet
liquid. My hands touch it, but as I go to inspect them I find their ivory satin
condition unchanged. The blood doesn�t touch me� it�s just � there

There�s a man there. Dead, his clothes sodden and black
with thick blood turning colder by the second, a glittering knife discarded
three feet away from him�

Someone�s crying again. A child. Not so young this time,
and not so sick sounding. Just� pained. Lost. Sirens. Voices�

� � not breathing�My baby isn�t breathing!� Hysterical,
horrible, frightened� I can only discern the words and emotions� This voice
has no gender, just the pain of a parent with breaking heart.

�

�

�GO BACK TO BED!� Roaring, terrible�protective.

�

�

�Gone� not coming back. Gone to heaven�� Hopeful,
fractured, lost�

�

�

�I won�t! You can�t make me! I love her! I LOVE HER!�
Desperate, pleading, passionate�

�

�

Silence�

�

Emptiness�

�It�s time��

Silence�

�It�s time��

Silence�

�It�s time��

World shaking� Vision spinning into gold and white light�
Blinding�

�It�s time��

��

�Wake up.�

Huh?

�Come on, it�s time for training�.�

Oh fuck off. I rolled over, ducking my head under my pillow.

�Not you, silly,� a female voice said to me, sounding like
the sweet chime of a golden bell to my ears, a cold hand squeezing my fingers.

I withdrew myself from beneath my pillow to find my left
hand in Domeka�s (only she had hands that cold anyway) as she used her other
one to try and wake a sleeping Tatiana. I frowned down at her sleeping figure,
deciding that she must�ve curled up against Dom after I�d fallen asleep or something.

�Come on Taya, you can sleep again after training. But
there�s only two BeyDishes here, and I�ve booked one of them for now so that we
can train.�

I nearly choked on my tongue when Taya swore at her in an
almost incoherent grumble. I don�t think I even ever considered that she knew
how to swear. �Gah� I�m awake, I�m awake,� she insisted, shrieking as I
rolled over and tickled her mercilessly in the sides. Dom smiled at us,
collecting Voxepa, her brown and gold Beyblade, up off the bedside counter and
stashing it in the pocket of the tweed jacket she was now wearing.

With a single, hefty tug she effectively yanked Taya from
the comfort of the bed and onto the floor. Domeka didn�t like being touched,
and Bryan sure didn�t like being cuddly� but for all of us Taya and Raven were
exceptions to all of our personal shackles, probably because of their age.

�What was that for? I�m up!� declared Tatiana indignantly,
looking very akin to Sarah as she placed her hands on her hips and pouted at
Domeka, her neat little eyebrows drawn together firmly.

The elder of them grinned slightly, the cherry-tinted apple
of her right cheek rising beneath her impressive scar, hawkish eyes softening
in an almost in a sisterly fashion, �Hurry up. You�ve got twenty minutes to get
down there, with Raven, while I go round up the juniors and Riki.�

�Twenty? But I need to get dressed and I don�t even know
where Raven is!�

Domeka stepped through the doorway, not looking back, �Yep,
twenty. And if you�re not on time then I�m banning you from chocolate and
marzipan for a fortnight.�

My lips split into a grin at the horrified look that drew
about Taya�s distinctive features, her silver eyes bright and widened to their
fullest as she rummaged around frantically, looking for her BeyBlade.

�Ouch,� she exclaimed, and cursed impulsively as her bare
foot stepped on her Blade, and, thank God, not hard enough to do any damage.

She looked frustrated, and unsure of what to do. �Raven�s
with Capucine and Veronika, so Dom will find her anyway,� I pulled her up
against me, hugging her fiercely with no particular motive, �So you should just
go and get changed and race down to the Dish.�

I kissed her squarely on the lips, not exactly intimate but
affectionate in a brotherly sort of way. In the Abbey we all kissed each other
like this, short little pecks on the lips or cheeks. Family kisses. I don�t
understand why that�s so taboo � kissing someone other than your partner on the
lips � in so many western countries. There�s a very big difference between those
kisses and these kisses.

She nodded, and darted out of the room, nearly knocking over
my Ty-koi as he made he stepped through the doorway.

�Whoa,� he stepped back and stumbled, but I was already at
his side to catch him firmly around the waist. Our eyes met, and for some
reason a combustion of rosiness blossomed along his cheekbones. Tee hee hee...
I grinned to myself, loving the affect I had on him. �Who was that?� he asked,
shooting a glance back down the hall to watch as Tatiana sped away.

Coiling an arm around his little waist and drawing him
closer against me, I shut the door with a deft kick of my foot and kissed him
firmly on the mouth, �Tatiana Belanov, one of my girls.�

He nodded, sliding his hands into the back pockets of my
pants. I�d explained the situation with �my girls� to him before, and he�d
never really questioned, well, besides a few little spurs of curiosity.
�Kristan�s little sister,� he stated, remembering what I had told him. He
must�ve caught the sad crease that formed about my eyes then because he buried
his face in my neck, nuzzling me affectionately.

�You must be hungry,� Tyson withdrew his hands from my pants
� from my pockets � and stepped away to look at me more fully, �You
missed lunch.�

His tone was a little bit evocative, in what I imagined to
be the same tone a mother would use with a teenage daughter. I squirmed a
little uncomfortably under the navy blue influence his scrutinizing gaze,
feeling its weight pin me back. It occurred to me then that he was probably
having the same effect on me that I had on Dom whenever I gave her shit about
not eating.

I waved a hand of dismissal, �Dom and I were catching up and
we fell asleep. I was thinking you and I could hit the town and I�ll show you
around. There�s a few little coffee places I know, and some parks that look
like magic in the winter. No one knows who we are here, except the other
Bladers, but they have the seminar on tonight. I�ve spoken to Mr. Dickinson
already,� I added hastily as he opened his mouth, probably to point the seminar
out. � I thought we could go have a look around together, go get a coffee or
something and walk around the city. If you want, that is��

A delicate brow of midnight blue arched above an eye of a
similar nuance. �What, you mean like a date?� he asked softly, and I watched as
he went through my bag and collected my hairbrush from it.

A date, huh? It transpired then, to me, that we hadn�t
actually ever been on a date. Not a real one anyway, I thought with a smile as
I remembered the indoor picnic we had during a storm a few months ago. That was
about as close as we had gotten to a date, because of all of those gossipy
little brats like Hillary, and everyone else�s wariness of me.

�Yeah,� I decided with a decisive nod, �Yeah, like a date.�

Tyson grinned, and I felt my insides flutter in reaction.
Beckoning me towards him with a flick of his head he began deftly transferring
the handle of the brush from one hand to the other with adroit, absent-minded
little flicks of his wrists. Must be a kendo thing� �Come here then, I�m not
going anywhere with you when you have hair like that.�

His skilled little hands managed to do whatever it is he�d
been attempting to do with my hair in mere moments. Five minutes and two hasty
(yet successful) searches for trench coats later and we were out the door,
somehow managing to sneak past dozens of other Bladers without getting caught,
Hillary included, and into the car that Mr. Dickinson had to chauffeur him
around.

Twenty-eight minutes later we were in the actual city of St.
Petersburg�

�and out on our very first date, red-nosed and dusted in
powdery snowflakes, and, for the first time, absolutely able to walk around
hand-in-hand in public, without the threat of an over-protective friend of Tyson
(or an avid hater of myself) leaping out at us to murder me or lure my little
Ty-koi away from me. As if he�d rather go to a Blading seminar for three hours
than freeze to death with me in Winter Wonderland anyway�

Ah, yes� that�s more like it. 6600 words, much more my
standard. Sorry about the major boringness and lack of fluff in that chapter,
but now that it�s out of the way and I�ve finally started to integrate the plot
into the actual story and out of my head there�s a lot more room for Tyson and Tala,
and yes� Bryan and Rei. I�m going to do it without Mariah bashing too, by the
way, because I like her. But I�ve decided to used my other OC�s in this so I
can get a chance to develop them and get used to writing them in this before I
get really into their respective fics. And, if you want, you can request a
pairing and I might possibly think about it and pop it in. I did that with
Bryan and Rei. Although Max is definitely taken for this because I really need
to develop my Miss. Sienna Murdoch. And if anyone can guess who our little boy
from Tala�s dream is I�ll give them a Brooklyn plushie� And if you want
anything in the plot all you have to do is ask.

Next chapter: A little bit from the past, not quite a
flashback but more an explanation for my readers about Capucine and Kai and
some of the girls, Raven in particular. And Bryan and Rei fluff/angst/something
along those lines�

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Shattered Porcelain