Running | By : happynekojpn Category: Beyblade > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2215 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade or its characters. They are the property of their respective copyright holders. No profit is being made from this story |
A/N: Whee, you're not waiting 4-5 months for the next chapter! YAY ME! Hah! Thanks to everyone for reading, much appreciated! Do review if it tickles your fancy; I do love a review! This chapter is especially for clariecandy, sweet thing that she is! I'll keep updating! Make sure you go to sleep, love! I'm a total perfectionist when it comes to writing, so I've actually checked this chapter four or five times already! I hate posting anything if I don't like it myself. If I don't like it, how can I expect anyone else to? Anyway, here it is for you all!
Warnings: Language, sexual content (explicit in later chapters), violence and all that.
Four
“What the fuck do you think you're playing at?!” the young man's voice practically oozed venom as he spat his query at me, the very mention of his estranged father sending him into a total rage. “What does that goddamn man have to do with any of this?!”
“His cancer diagnosis coincides with another incident,” I respond calmly, though I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. Try as might to deny it, the kid intimidated me. “It would be a strong build for a case of mental instability on your part...”
“Mental instability!” he practically scoffed, obviously insulted by the insinuation. “Anyone who knows me knows about my relationship with my 'father', or lack, thereof. Surely that's in your stupid fucking file...”
“I'm sorry, we don't embellish our documentation with sentimentality,” I replied before I could stop myself, aware as soon as I finished the sentence that it wasn't going to do me any good to start a war with him. I felt the air in the room heat and grow thick. It could have almost crackled with the sensation. It was, without doubt, the strangest moment of my life. “But it seems quite obvious that speaking of him makes you upset...” I made a vain attempt to placate the former Beyblader in front of me.
“That's fucking stating the obvious...” Kai grunted, annoyance still laced deeply in his words. “I'm assuming you want some fucking embellished account on that now, as well?” I gave him a slow nod, my gaze hopeful as I locked with his. Agitation continued to flare behind lavender eyes, though the burn seemed to subside as he let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “I have nothing pleasant to say about Susumu Hiwatari. And I trust that any of my personal feelings towards him will have little bearing on my statement relating to any of this?”
“Little to none whatsoever,” I replied in as reassuring a tone as I could manage. “I just feel it would help me, personally, to gain the right perspective. So I can see the evidence in all possible lights.” Another defeated sigh left his pale lips.
“Fine...”
~~+++~~
Susumu Hiwatari.
It had been so long since I'd called him “dad” or “father” or any manner of paternal endearment that I started to forget he even existed, or was ever a presence in my life. He came to just be known to me as “That Man”, for the most part. One thing I do remember of that time, the last time I saw him, when I was ten and he turned his back on me, was that I never saw her again, either.
My mother.
Perhaps he knew what had become of her, as well. She was his wife, after all; aren't they supposed to love each other? Love really counts for jack shit, in the long run...
Though I don't know if I actually want to believe that anymore... And I know whose fault THAT is...
~~+++~~
The warm summer sun beat down through the trees, sending its dappled light out across the yard of the Granger dojo. It was July and the monsoon season of June had finally passed, giving way to glorious, golden days, beach trips, ice cream, shaved ice and fireworks. Grandpa Granger had taken out the beautiful wind chimes that he kept aside for every summer, and they now hung over the sliding door facing out onto the deck across the yard, their gentle tinkling providing a welcome intermission between the screeching sound of the cicadas that were camouflaged within the trees.
Yes, summer had finally arrived, and Tyson was relieved to see it.
It had been about a month and a half now since the incident that had seen Kai get beaten and pulled in for questioning by the local police department, and it was an ordeal that Tyson was ready to forget. After being released by the police, Kai had spent at least five hours in the ER of City General getting patched up, and thankfully now he was well and truly on the mend. Enough to be sitting in his usual removed perch on the deck, below the wind chime, while the remaining former team mates who once belonged to the G Revolutions were sitting indoors, as close to the Granger's old AC unit as possible, trying to make shaved ice. It all felt so nostalgic that it filled Tyson with a warm relief he never thought he'd experience again.
“No no no no NO!” Hilary wailed in despair, snatching the bottle of strawberry syrup out of Max's hands, rolling her eyes. “For Heaven's sake, Max! How long have you been here and you still haven't figured out shaved ice?!”
“Hilary, I'm not an alien!” Max retorted in an admittedly weak defense.
“You're not good at making shaved ice, either!” she responded sharply. Tyson couldn't help but snicker at Max's expense. Hilary was still as sharp as she'd always been. It was as if they hadn't spent so many years apart, living their own lives. This was how they had always been, and how they always would be. “Honestly, let me!” Prying the shaved ice maker away from Max's grasp, the brunette young woman took it upon herself to load up the maker with ice cubes and start to furiously grind them, the result falling delicately like winter's snow into a small cup below the chopping blade. The end result was, Tyson had to admit, rather elegant. She slipped the cup out when she was complete and gently squirted a helping of the aforementioned strawberry syrup over the top of the ice, sending some of it sinking in on itself as it melted under the new heat, though the whole dish managed to retain its overall shape. “Shaved ice!” she handed the cup to Max with something of a flourish.
“That's pretty good, Hilary!” Max exclaimed, smiling warmly at her. “Thanks!”
“Well,” Tyson spoke up. “You know, Hilary does have the upper body strength of a male body builder...” He didn't see the bottle of syrup flying towards his head until it was too late.
Peals of laughter shook the solitary phoenix out of his internalisation, lavender-hued eyes regarding the scene before him with equal measures of disinterest and warmth, the latter being an emotion that Kai was relatively unfamiliar with on the whole. He was still who he always was on the inside; no amount of growing up was going to change that. All that had really changed about him, so he believed, was that he now smoked to control his stress levels. He also had the occasional drink, but he opted to keep that one private from the others. He'd received enough hell about his smoking habit, despite the relatively low level of nicotine he actually smoked; he didn't want to receive even more grief if they found out about the alcohol as well.
For Kai, alcohol was a social lubricant. It certainly didn't make him more social, there wasn't enough vodka in the world for that, but for him that terminology meant that it made socialising that bit more bearable. Especially since most of the idiots he attended college with were permanently at the bottom of a bottle somewhere and were, on the whole, loud and intolerable louts who had killed off enough brain cells at this point for Kai to wonder how they'd managed to pass the year and get this far in the first place. The phoenix wasn't about to stand out and plead social innocence, though; he'd had one or two occasions where he'd had so much to drink he'd forgotten an entire night. Though he always remembered the hangover. Usually, these nights occurred whenever he was press-ganged into a night out with Benny, one of the single most intolerable people Kai had ever met, and that included Daichi. On both of those forgotten nights, he had woken up with a woman he didn't know, and on one of those two nights he'd woken up with a woman who turned out to be Benny's 28-year-old newly-married sister. That had nearly made him sick, even without the aid of the hangover.
Yes, without doubt, Kai's social interactions had become rather colourful of late, despite the fact that he didn't interact with anyone per se. It wasn't until he'd sunk down at least half a bottle of tequila that he'd be willing to say more than two words to any one person. He made it a point, though, of avoiding those particular outings as much as humanly possible, which wasn't easy when you were a university student. He still valued his brain cells enough to want a degree; he didn't need drink killing them off.
“What are you thinking about?” Tyson's voice interrupted his solitary reverie, causing him to bring his attention to the younger man, a silly smile forever painted across that once-chubby face.
“Nothing you'd be able to wrap your head around,” Kai responded firmly. Tyson couldn't help the short laugh that followed, half-glad to hear Kai's sarcastic barbs again. This nostalgia was wrapping him up in a blanket and he didn't care at all about the warmth. He wanted to be embraced by it for as long as possible.
“I have no doubt about that!” the bluenette held his hands up in defeat before sitting himself down beside his friend. “The things that go on in your mind, Kai, I doubt even Freud could get his head around...!” A single brow on the older one's face quirked up. Had Tyson just managed a witty retort? It was hard to believe. Harder still was it to believe that it was actually moderately funny.
“What do you want?” Kai swallowed up the void that had formed between them with a sharp-edged question, hinting to the other that he didn't particularly appreciate the space invasion and wished to be left in peace. He quickly realised he had, perhaps, been a little harsher in his delivery than he had intended, and it made his stomach tighten at the expression his query garnered from the Dragon.
Still running from the truth... How much longer can you keep this up?
“How many years has it been now, Kai? Two? Three?” Tyson began, his tone soft, breaking Kai from his internal berating. “You still keep away from us like we're going to bite you or something. We're not a contagion, Kai... After what you did for us before--”
“It was either that or watch you get your asses kicked,” Kai interjected dismissively, internally sighing with some relief. “As entertaining as that would have been, I didn't want to have to clean up after you.”
“I know you care really, Kai...” Tyson kept his tone soft, edging closer to his older companion, not noticing the creep of pink emerge onto the other's pale cheeks. “And trust me, we all appreciate it. I know we've all thanked you a hundred times for rolling in like Rambo, but thanks again... I don't know where we'd be without you...”
“In traction,” the older phoenix responded plainly, looking out across the yard as he spoke, his words earning another bark of laughter from his younger friend.
“Well said again!” Tyson laughed. “Seems you've gotten a sense of humour in your old age, sourpuss!” Kai turned and crooked a brow at Tyson, about to ask exactly what he meant by that statement when he heard the familiar shrill ring of his cell phone. Long ago, Kai had gone to the rare trouble of assigning his contacts with ringtones. Certain tones meant he wanted to answer the phone, the others warned him to screen the call. He found it was an effective system, especially when warding off suitors he just didn't want to talk to. This, however, was his Generic tone, so any unassigned number got this rather banal jingle. It usually meant he'd have to answer it and find out who it was, for better or worse. Tyson looked moderately amused as Kai dove into his pocket to answer his cell.
“Hello,” he began, sounding agitated for being interrupted right from the offset. “Yes, speaking... Why are you calling?...” Through the long pause that followed, the general annoyance in Kai's expression melted away as he tensed up, his jaw set in a firm line, eyes starting to flare with some unspoken rage, the arm holding the phone to his ear almost vibrating with it. Tyson's amusement was swiftly replaced with concern. “And why are you contacting me about this?!” He seemed outraged. Then something seemed to catch in his throat and it was as if he couldn't breathe for a few precious moments before he finally found his voice again, though its tone was diminished. “Fine. I'll be there in ten minutes.” He promptly hung up the phone and clambered up onto his feet.
“What's wrong?” Tyson asked cautiously, not entirely sure that this was the right time to be broaching such a subject with someone of Kai's short temper.
“None of your fucking business!” Kai snapped back venomously, turning on his heel and exiting the room, heading for the front door, not caring that he was aiming his fury at an innocent bystander. His voice trailed back to the others in the room, who all looked just as bewildered as Tyson. “I'm leaving!” and with those parting words, the door was slammed shut. Shortly afterwards, the sound of a car parked close-by was heard driving away.
“Is he okay...?” Max queried, concern echoing in his words as he watched after their departed former captain.
“Hell knows...” Tyson replied, though his worry was betrayed in his tone as well. And all the while, as they began to wonder what had sent Kai into such a fury, no one noticed as Ray cut off the fifteenth call he had received to his silenced phone within the past half an hour.
The caller ID: Mariah.
~~+++~~
It was as if he were driving in a total haze of fury and other nameless emotions. He didn't exactly have the time to pick through them right now; City General had just contacted him and informed him that a member of his family had been admitted this morning. The fact that Kai had a family member to be reported to him was intriguing enough, but to learn that it was his estranged father, of all people, sent the young Hiwatari through a loop. He knew what it was: advanced-stage liver cancer. His father had liver cancer. The odds were strong that he was going to die, and honestly speaking Kai wasn't sure how he felt about that. Was he sad to be losing a man who was so dear to him for the first ten years of his life? Was he angry that this man was cutting out on him before he got any real answers from him? The latter was part of the reason why Kai had decided to speed down to the hospital, despite the fact that the traffic around Bay City at any time of day, with it being part of the southern sprawl of the capital, was brutal. It only served to further fray his temper, so by the time he had found a parking space at City General, he was more than a little irritable.
“I'm looking for Susamu Hiwatari,” Kai snapped at the attending nurse at the Nurse's Station. The poor woman quivered under his heavy, heated gaze and shakily attended to her computer to locate the patient in question.
“A-and y-you are?” she asked shakily, not daring herself to meet his gaze. It was obvious that she was either fresh out of med school or just a trainee.
“His son,” the last word was spoken with such distain that Kai was certain the woman was about to wilt under its weight. After tapping away at the computer for a further three minutes, perhaps to buy herself some courage, she turned to Kai. Her green eyes quickly betrayed her.
“He's in the Oncology wing. Through those double-doors,” she pointed to a set of double doors straight down the corridor ahead of them. “And then up to the third floor. He's in room 225.” Without so much as a thank you, Kai stalked off down the corridor and up to Oncology, managing to cause everyone who was unfortunate enough to get in his way to wilt back quickly, offering him a wide berth.
Outside room 225, however, he hesitated. Beside the door was written “HIWATARI, S.” and there was a window that looked into the room, though the blinds were shut. A pale hand hovered over the door handle as the enormity of what he was about to do crashed on him like a tidal wave. He was about to go into a room to see a man he hadn't heard from, or seen, in nearly ten years. Their parting hadn't been one that had been easy for the young Kai to absorb, and now he was standing outside his room, about to confront him for the first time, and something lurching in his stomach was holding him back.
This is ridiculous. Just do it. Open the door and go in.
Still, he hesitated. Taking in another shaky breath, steeling himself, he pressed weight into his extended hand to force the door handle down, slowly opening the door and entering the room, moving round to quickly close the door behind him, so there would be no immediate opportunity for him to lose his nerve. When he turned back, the sight that greeted him wasn't what he was expecting.
The man lying in the bed was definitely Susumu Hiwatari, as Kai remembered him, only he seemed a great deal diminished. The same two-tone hair and pale skin as his only son, his frame seemed less than what it had been, though Kai expected that whatever treatment he was undergoing played some part in that, or at the very least the disease itself did. A selection of tubes and wires came out of his father's arms and into nearby machines, pumping fluids and drugs into his body. Kai wasn't sure if he felt any rush of pity for the prone form of the man; he wasn't entirely certain if he should feel anything. He felt he probably should, but no feelings of any grief or affection seemed to be willing to come forth.
Deep brown eyes were staring back into lavender, and Kai felt his entire exterior self prickle and freeze over. The man was awake, and he was looking at the former Beyblader like he was some manner of mythical creature he had been hoping to find his entire life.
“Kai...?” Susumu finally choked out hoarsely, raising a weak, shaky hand to hold out to his son in an effort to beckon him closer. “You're here... you're here... I never thought you'd come...”
“Why?” Kai spat, his distaste for the situation obvious in his voice. “Why have them call me? I haven't seen you, or spoken to you, in nearly a decade, old man! You walked out, remember?!”
“Please, Kai...” the man seemed to age 20 years inside a minute, pleading with his son. “You were the only one I knew to call...”
“Are you kidding?!” the younger Hiwatari seemed to flare with this remark, wondering how he had managed to become this man's only hope. “You stopped 'knowing' me when you walked out to do fuck-knows-what when I was ten!” Mentally, he cringed at himself for making such a self-despairing statement, but he'd leave whatever scolding he could concoct for later. Now just wasn't the time to worry about something like that. He was being presented with a situation that he had thought implausible for many years; to be faced with his father again, after so long, wasn't a situation he had ever prepared for, because he had had no desire to seek the man out to make any amends. As he looked at him now, prone and frail in the sterile white of the hospital room, Kai was sure he could feel the distant echo of pity somewhere deep inside himself.
“You don't understand, Kai...” Susumu sighed. “You don't understand what he was asking me to do... Being with you, teaching you to Beyblade, seeing your smile... It was a feeling I never wanted to lose. He made me choose between his military empire and the smiles brought on by Beyblading, and I chose the latter. To my great pain, it meant that I lost you, and your mother...”
“You goddamn piece of shit...” the young phoenix growled from his distant position standing at the foot of the bed. “You left me to get fucked up! I never saw my mother again after that! I don't know if she's alive or dead! And any anger that your father had about you fucking off and leaving, he took out on me! He made me suffer in your place! You abandoned me to be used for his own agenda! Do you know what he fucking took from me!?” The older man's expression grew all the more sorrowful, his remorse playing openly across his features. He didn't need to be told; he knew exactly what manner of thing his father, Voltaire, would have taken from his only son. He knew the kind of man his father had become, and it had been part of the reason why he had left. The guilt at abandoning his wife and son to that man's mercy had never left him as he travelled the world for the passion he had left them for.
“Kai...” Susumi began, his voice breaking, whether from the strain of the topic and the memories it evoked or from the physical exertion that talking had become due to his illness couldn't be said. “You are the heir to an extensive military empire... Voltaire's original goal involved dealing weaponry to terrorists, but then he too got involved in the Beyblading world and started moving through that... I know what he did to you, and I know I can't apologise enough for that. But I am glad that you kept Dranzer... Black Dranzer came from my family, but Dranzer herself came from your mother's family...”
“You're here with cancer and you're fucking giving me a family history lecture?!” Kai grit his teeth in annoyance, though admittedly he hadn't been aware of Dranzer's connection to his mother's family as opposed to his father's. He didn't allow his interest in the subject to show at all on his features, keeping them impassive and cold. He could research this on his own time rather than giving himself any reason to be around this man longer than absolutely necessary. “Hiwatari Enterprises is still intact under the name Biovolt. My grandfather went to prison some years back, so the majority of the money was placed into one fund under my name. The company name still exists, but it's not dealing in weapons manufacture and export. I don't know what to do with it yet. I'll decide after graduation...”
“You're a university student...” Susumu let a relieved smile play across his features. “I'm glad... your mother would be pleased. She never wanted you to get into all that military nonsense. She wanted you to be a normal young man...”
“Is it necessary for me to hear your wax nostalgic, old man?” Kai groaned, rolling his eyes skyward. “I'm not interested. In anything relating to you. I came here to tell you that I'm not going to be coming round here and pretending I give a shit about you just because you're sick. I have enough burdens in my life without adding you to it...”
“I wouldn't be a burden for long...” his father responded, his voice soft and the sadness playing across his aged features openly. His words chilled Kai to his bones, and it showed on his face, his jaw tightening and his body going almost rigid.
He's going to die...
“Why are you telling me this...?” Kai asked, his voice barely wrenched out of his throat.
“There's nothing they can do for me...” he replied, obviously affected by his son's reaction. “So I'm going to die... I can't say when, but--”
“You didn't answer my goddamn question!” the phoenix flared once again, slamming his balled fist into the wall hard, ignoring the reverberating pain that thrummed up his arm. “I don't care if you're going to die tomorrow! I don't care if it's next week, next month, next year or next decade, I just don't want to know! Have them call me again and I'll kill you myself! Just fuck off already!” With these words, he quickly fled the room, stalking out the hospital like a dark storm cloud, placing a cigarette between his lips the second he was out of the building.
Your father is dying of cancer and you're still smoking?
Ignoring the internal scolding, he lit up the stick between his lips and took a long drag, exhaling out his frustrations before stopping in front of one of the many Seven-Elevens dotted throughout the city. Looking in, one thought crossed his mind: he wasn't going to be 20 for another few weeks yet, but with how he looked and behaved, it had never been difficult for anyone to believe he was older than he was.
It'll be easy...
~~+++~~
“Ray, you've been distracted since before we left Tyson's place...” Max frowned with concern for his Chinese friend once they had returned to their apartment. The level of tension surrounding the master of Driger had been steadily building for most of the day, only becoming more outwardly apparent after Kai had left so suddenly. Everyone had been put on tenterhooks, unknowingly, after their former captain's abrupt exit, considering the fury that seemed to roll off of him. Whatever had encouraged his departure had certainly struck a nerve in him. While Kai was easily agitated, it certainly took a great deal for him to get that angry. While they were all concerned, Ray had seemed especially distracted, though the blonde American suspected it wasn't entirely related to their friend.
“I'm fine, Max, don't worry,” Ray responded in the hopes of placating his friend, though it managed to fail spectacularly. The look that the blonde gave him told him as much. “Don't worry about me, okay? We've got so many other things to focus on...”
“So there is something...” Max remarked aloud, keeping his attention on Ray as the shrill sound of the Chinese former blader's cell phone cut into the silence that had fallen between the pair. When Ray showed little inclination to answer it, Max made a dive for it on the small coffee table. Despite his quick reflexes, Driger's master wasn't able to stop Max before he picked up the phone and caught the name on the caller ID screen. “Mariah!” the blonde smiled, answering the call, unaware of the color that was swiftly draining out of Ray's face. “Mariah! Hey! It's Max!”
“Max?” the young Chinese woman sounded a little confused to hear from Max for but a few moments before she audibly lightened. “Max! Hey! It's been a long time! How are you doing?”
“Great thanks!” Max responded with delight. “College is keeping me and Ray pretty busy, but we've got a pretty packed social schedule as well! You know we managed to hook up with the other guys on our Beyblading team?! Even Kai! Though he's as sociable as ever! Though he's a whole lot taller, got more muscle and he smokes now... Kinda makes him a little scary, if you ask me... Not that he wasn't scary before...”
“Max...” the tone in Mariah's voice spoke volumes for her exasperation, though Max chose not to take it unkindly. “Can I speak to Ray please?”
“Oh! Sure! Sorry!” Max apologised sheepishly, handing the phone to Ray with a smile. “Mariah wants to talk to you!” His expression quickly dropped when he took in Ray's pale features and the strain and hesitance painted over his face. Reluctantly, he took the phone and put it to his ear, moving swiftly out onto the balcony, closing the door so as not to be heard.
“Mariah...” Ray sighed heavily. He knew he was in trouble.
“Ray...” the relief was awash in her voice, though it soon became intermingled with slowly falling tears; an unspoken grief woven into her words. “This is the first time since... Since you...”
“Mariah... I...” the Chinese young man just didn't know what to say to placate her. He wasn't sure if anything could be said at this point.
“You left so suddenly...” her voice was small but still audible to Ray's keen ears. “Without a word... You just up and left, and this is the first we've heard from you... If you really wanted to shut us out, Ray, you shouldn't have posted your cell number online...,” Ray couldn't help but wince at himself. It had been a rookie error to post the number publicly on a social networking site, but he had quickly removed it when sense came back to him. At least that explained where Mariah found the number. “Why are you back in Japan?” she asked, taking a brief pause. “Oh wait, Max answered that; you're in college... You ran away from the village, again, to go to college?
“We had plans, Ray...” Mariah continued after a lengthy silence fell between them. “We were going to get married... Is that... Is that why you ran? Why you're still running? Because you don't want to marry me...?”
“Mariah...” Ray heaved a sigh of defeat. “I care about you so much, I do, but... Look at us... We're still young; too young to be jumping into something like this... I know the match is arranged and the Elder is pressing for our marriage, but I... I can't do it. I want to live and grow as a person before I get married and commit my life to you...”
“So, you're saying you want to screw around with random girls?!” the pink-haired young woman practically shrieked down the phone. “You want four years to just fuck around with whoever you like and then I'll be good enough for you?!”
“That's not what I meant!” Ray groaned in frustration. “You know that's not what I meant, Mariah! I haven't been screwing with anyone since I got here! Ask Max! This is too much! We're too young! How do you know that this is what you want?”
“Because it's a life with you!” she responded firmly, her conviction set in her tone. “It's all I've ever wanted, ever since we were young! You know how I feel about you! You've always known! Why are you doing this now!? After everything?!”
“I'm not ready, alright?!” the former White Tiger snapped, unaware of how tightly he was gripping the phone or that Max had nudged the door open a slither and was able to hear one side of the conversation. “I'm not ready to be married! I don't want to get married! Not now! Some day, yes, but not now! I want to get my degree, I want to see more of the world, I want to live! There's nothing wrong with that, Mariah! You know how I feel about you; you can't dare to doubt that! Just because I don't want to marry you now doesn't mean I won't someday--” Ray blinked as a dull bleep rang out from the other side of the phone, indicating that the call had been intentionally cut off. Mariah had hung up on him. With a loud groan, Ray leaned against the balcony rail, taking in a slow, deep breath before turning and going back inside, noticing Max's close proximity immediately. “How much of that did you listen in on...?”
“Enough to know that you appear to be in some marriage arrangement with Mariah and that's why you're here...” Max responded, unable to keep some disappointment out of his voice. “Ray... It isn't like you to run from responsibility. And after you berated Tyson for running from his troubles before... You're doing the same thing!”
“That was different!” Ray snapped in a weak defense of himself. “What Tyson was running from was so much more serious than an arranged marriage! He was being threatened and he dragged us into it!”
“It's the same thing, Ray!” Max retorted, though he managed to keep his temper in check, merely coming across as worried for his dear friend. “You came here to escape an obligation to someone you care about. That isn't you, Ray... running away like this...” The worry had to be showing on the blonde's face, as the Chinese former blader seemed to thaw, sighing.
“Well, I'm not perfect...” Ray sighed, defeated.
“No, Ray...” Max patted the older youth on the shoulder. “No one ever asked you to be...” As he watched the other head into the kitchen, no doubt to get some tea, as was the norm with the Chinese one whenever he was stressed, he couldn't help but think of his own reasons for coming here, his shoulders sagging heavily as a sigh escaped his lips, his voice soft as he spoke. “I can't really talk... I'm no better than any of you... I guess we've all become cowards...”
~~+++~~
“Try not to be up too late, Tyson...” Hiro warned as he walked by the living room to see his little brother glued to the television. “Gramps has students coming in at nine. You're meant to be helping, so get to bed soon...”
“Hiro, I'm old enough to be able to handle myself now...” Tyson groaned, slouching back in his chair. The older Granger sighed and shook his head before departing for his own bedroom to sleep. It wasn't like it was incredibly late, only ten-thirty, but Tyson knew well enough by now how his grandfather felt about tardiness, especially from him. He didn't know how many more swift blows to the head from his kendo sword he could take before he'd have to go to hospital to get scanned for signs of a brain injury.
Another half an hour passed without event. With a hefty sigh, Tyson reached forward and turned off the TV, stretching his relaxed arm and shoulder muscles before clambering up onto his feet. It was time for bed. This evening had turned out to be rather dull, though he couldn't help the occasional flicker of worry for his former captain, owing to the nature of his sudden departure earlier in the day. He was hoping that a quick phone call tomorrow would put his worries to rest, though. As he left the room, he could hear noises coming from the yard. The sound of a flower pot being knocked over, followed by an audible curse.
“Shit...” the slurred voice grumbled unhappily. A frown crossed the features of the young dragon, who took up his grandfather's wall-mounted Kendo sword and moved towards the back door of the house, sliding the door open a small amount to peek at who was outside, catching sight of a young man trying to right the fallen ceramic pot and having trouble keeping himself vertical.
Kai...?
Upon opening the door wider, he was greeted with the sight of his older friend, who seemed rather out of sorts as he righted himself and turned to look at him. One look in his eyes told Tyson all he needed to know about Kai's current state of mind.
“Oh look, it's Tyson...” the phoenix slurred, placing both of his hands heavily on the wooden deck that surrounded the old-style house. “An' he's here with the welcome wagon!” Tyson blinked in shock as he slowly appraised his friend, the former captain of their team and one of the more serious and disciplined people in the young man's life.
Shit... Kai's totally drunk...
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