Chapter 04


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.

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Theme 16 – Questioning
“Tell me a story”
Rated: K (G)
Genre: Drama, Family
Post-anime/Pre-manga Drabble
Tyson’s POV – 1st Person

               That’s the thing about kids – they’re curious about the world around them.  They want to know what things are, how they work, how to use them, why we use them.  They want to know about the people around them, too.   Sometimes, they want to know about the people who aren’t around them just as much because – observant beyond belief – they noticed your attention to those who are absent as keenly as they have those whose present and accounted for.

               “Daddy, what’s this picture?”

               Makoto comes into the kitchen where I’m making lunch and holds up a dusty old framed photograph.  I put down my towel and take it from him to get a better look.  “Oh!”  I exclaim softly, surprised to see such an odd team picture after so long.  Most of them I’d put away – had to make room when my son came along – and apparently he’d found them.  “Where’d you find this, Makoto?”

               “Lookin’ for spare blade parts in the hall closet.”  He tells me, innocence and curiosity shining in his eyes.  Though he’s met the majority of my team, there’s one member he hasn’t.  “I found a box of stuff.”

               “Ah.”  I nod, dusting the poor thing off and setting it upright on the counter. “It’s the old team, son.  The Bladebreakers.”  We’ve told him stories, of course, about our adventures and the glory days we lived Beyblading, but he’s still young (only seven years old) and sometimes I think he hasn’t quite put it all together yet just how special those times were for me and the guys.  Especially since we’ve never truly stopped blading.

               “Really?  But you’re all little.  Like me!”  Makoto points at us, eyes wide in disbelief.  I laugh.

               “We were a bit older than you are now when this was taken, son, but that was quite a few years ago.”  I help him climb up onto a stool at the counter and we stare at the picture together for a moment.  It was one of the ones taken after our first championship win in Hong Kong on the World circuit, the first year we were together as Bladebreakers.  “Do you know who everyone is?”  I ask.

               He scrunches up his face in concentration and points out each of us as he guesses.  “That’s you, Daddy.  And Uncle Max, and Uncle Kenny, and that’s Uncle Rei…” he stops and frowns when his finger hovers over the final member of the team, and it doesn’t surprise me.  “I don’t…who is that?”

               All the things I’ve told him…I left out perhaps the most important part of it all.  Because it hurt.  The time had come, I guess, to finally share the final piece of that puzzle with my son – a bright little boy who was following in his father’s footsteps.  I’d almost swear the kid was born with a launcher in one hand and a blade in the other, sometimes.

               “Well,” I begin slowly, “his name is Kai.  Hiwatari Kai.”

               Sensing a story, he spins in his seat to regard me eagerly.  “Did he blade, too?”

               “Oh yes.”  I grinned, memories flashing like lightning in my mind’s eye.  “His Dranzer blade was one of the most powerful I’d ever seen.”

               “Stronger than Dragoon?”

               I was tempted to scoff and pull the “nothing’s stronger!” bit, but I couldn’t do that.  Not to Kai.  Never to him.  “No.  Not really.  I think…they were pretty much equals, son.”

               “Really?”  He turned to look back at the picture, amazed by that, I suppose.  “So he was a good blader?”

               “Kai was very good.  He was my equal – in the dish and out.”  I admitted with complete honesty, even though  he was still too young to fully understand what I meant.  “When the team was formed, Kai was made our Captain.  We’d never have gotten anywhere without him.”

               “Wow.”  Impressed by such rare praise from me, Makoto glances up at me, questioningly.  “Where is he now?  Why haven’t I met him?  Does he still blade?”

               I chuckle at the rapid fire demands for answers and ruffle his hair fondly.  “Maybe someday, Makoto, you’ll meet him.  I don’t know where he is.  I haven’t seen or heard from him in…a very long time, so I have no idea if he still blades.”

               Makoto seems to accept that because he shrugs and slides off the stool.  “I gotta finish my blade if I wanna battle in the tournament tomorrow!”  He rushes off, satisfied curiosity a distant memory now.

               I pick up the picture and stare at it for a while longer, wistfully wishing I could have one last chance to talk to Kai and tell him…everything.

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

Theme 17 – Blood
“Kindred”
Rated: K (G)
Genre: General, Family
Post-Series Drabble
3rd Person POV

               How’s the saying go?  “You can pick your friends but you can’t pick your family.

               It’s like that for a lot of people, surely.  Everyone has relatives they’d like to disown or at least, relatives who haven’t lived up to what one has expected them to be.

               Certainly this is true for Kai and Tyson.

               Kai considers his whole family a lost case.  His parents let Voltaire take him away and never tried to bring him home, and Voltaire wanted to use him as a weapon to try and take over the world.

               Tyson loves his grandfather very much.  His father, too, even if he rarely sees him because of his work as an archaeologist.  And he’s looked up to Hiro ever since he was a toddler.  It was his big brother, after all, who had taught him to blade.  But Hiro has let Tyson down in a big way, so much that it feels like a betrayal.

               And though the silver lining to their family relations cloud is that it has made them stronger and independent, it still hurts.  Blood may be thicker than water, but there comes a point where it’s not thick enough.  Kai will never forgive either his parents or Voltaire for what they’ve done – or haven’t done, as the case may be, and Tyson is very sure there isn’t a satisfactory reason Hiro could ever give him for going over to BEGA and throwing away everything Tyson’s ever fought for.

               It’s been years, now, since those days.  Though their past certainly fits the old saying, their present is a different story.  In fact, they’ve proven it wrong entirely.

               These days Kai and Tyson live together in the dojo; their sons Gou and Makoto are their pride and joy.  They were friends and rivals first, teammates, and now even more than lovers.  It was an odd little family they’d worked hard to create, but it was theirs, and it was everything a family should be.  Laughter and tears, the occasional argument, smiles and frowns, but always love.

               And their extended family reached out to include their old teammates and their families.  Kenny and Hilary, Rei and Max, even Daichi were as much – if not more – family as any blood relation.  There were no genetic links at all between them, but they could care less.

               Only goes to show how sometimes the old sayings aren’t always true.

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Theme 18 – Rainbow
“Technicolor”
Rated: K (G)
Genre: Humour, Romance
Dialogue Fic
3rd Person POV

               “Kai, why do you always have blue shark fins on your face?”

               “What?  What’s wrong with them?”

               “Nothing!  I’m just curious…why blue?”

               “You don’t like blue?”

               “Did I say that?  No!  I just wondered what’s so special about blue.  Why not…green?”

               “I’m not Kermit the Frog, Kinomiya.”

               “Orange?”

               “Clashes with most of my wardrobe.  Besides, I think Max has the copyright on loud colours like that.”

               “Heh, true.  Yellow?”

               “Ugh.  Too bright.”

               “Purple?”

               “I wear enough purple already.”

               “Black?”

               “First, that’s not technically a colour, and second, I’m neither Goth nor Emo.”

               “That’s debatable sometimes.”

               “Kinomiya…”

               “Okay, okay!  What about…white?”

               “As much a non-colour as black, it’s too bland, and I’m too pale-skinned.”

               “Right.  Hmm…brown?”

               “Muddy and boring.”

               “Ha, ha, ha!  Pink!”

               “Are you trying to make me hurt you?”

               “What about silver?  Or gold?”

               “Metals are for accessories, Tyson, not my face.”

               “Oh, I don’t know.  You could blind your opponents with the shine.”

               “…you’re a moron.”

               “Agh!  What’s left?  Red!  Red’s a good colour!  Great for you!”

               “My eyes are red.”

               “So?  I think it would suit you!  You’d look totally bad-ass, Kai!”

               “I like red…just not on my face.  Too…clown-ish.”

               “So what?  The reason you wear blue, then, is because it’s all that’s left?”

               “That and it doesn’t clash with my wardrobe, it suits me, and…I happen to like blue.  Even before…”

               “Before what?”

               “Before it became my favourite colour.”

               “You…wait a minute.  When did blue become your favourite colour, exactly?”

               “…a couple of years ago.”

               “And what made you change it?”

               “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

               “Kai…”

               “Fine!  A storm named Kinomiya Tyson blew into my life and changed everything!  Happy?”

               “Oh!”  Sniffle.  “Kai, that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me!”

               “…you are so weird.”

               “Good thing you love me, then.”

               “Hn.”

               “Kai?”

               “What?”

               “Blue is my favourite colour, too.”

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

Theme 19 – Grey
“Ordinary World”
Rated: K+ (PG)
Genre: General, Angst
Season One Drabble
Kai’s POV – 1st Person

               From a very young age, I knew I was meant for greatness.  I would do great things, be someone important, stand above all others in everything I did.  The ordinary life – that dull, mediocre grey world around me – was not my life.  Grandfather made sure that I was surrounded in the extraordinary, colour and elegance and power in every aspect of my childhood.  He raised me to believe it was my clue, and that if someone or something got in my way then I had to take it, regardless.

               Yet, whenever I encountered such an occurrence, I found myself so full of envy that it confused me.  It wasn’t that I was envious of whoever had what I wanted, but that they were so attached to whatever it was that they were devastated when I took it.  I was so resentful of that emotion.  I’d never had any similar attachment to anything in my life save one thing – Dranzer.  And I’d never had her taken from me so I didn’t know what this devastation felt like.

               I noticed this most keenly when Grandfather told me to seek out powerful blades like my Dranzer and do whatever it took to take them.  I wanted him to be proud of me, to love me, so I did as he bid me to.  I formed the Blade Sharks, and we proceeded to acquire a massive amounts of blades in a short period of time.  The kids whose blades we took were so upset over their losses, and I couldn’t understand why.  Was it because they were their only bright spot of colour in their otherwise dreary lives?  I just couldn’t understand it because none of those blades turned out to be special at all – they were just as unremarkable as their owners.

               And then came the day I met a kid named Tyson.  He was a cocky and as full of himself as all his predecessors who challenged me.  The first time we battled (if you could call that waste of time a ‘battle’) I didn’t even bother taking his blade – I just destroyed it.  I could tell immediately it was as worthless as the rest.  But the second time…  Not only did he suddenly have a bit-beast (the great blue storm dragon, Dragoon) but he tied me!  I, of course, chalked that up to a loss.  In a fair, even match, no less.  What made me truly stop and consider the kid, though, was that there even was a second battle.  He didn’t crumble under his defeat and lose himself to the pain of loss like the others all had.  No, not Kinomiya Tyson.  Instead, he builds a new blade, and comes back for more – fighting not just for himself in revenge but for everyone else who had ever lost their blade  to me and my gang.  I was surprised and confused because he was fighting for something bigger than himself it seemed – even though I couldn’t see what that was.

               Despite my confusion, Grandfather told me the best place to find the blades he wanted would be on the tournament circuit.  I was already a defending Regional Champion, so of course I was going back to compete again.  The old man was right, there were several blades worth my time and effort to be found there.  Rather than taking them, however, I found myself curious – I wanted to know what was so special about those…brats that their bit-beasts chose them.  In the end, we ended up as a team, a concept that was really quite far from anything in my previous experience, despite Mr. Dickenson’s belief in me as a captain.  We became the Bladebreakers, and…suddenly everything I thought I knew changed.

               Tyson taught me many things over the next few months.  The others did, too, but it was mostly Tyson.  But the major epiphany I had came when he stretched out a hand across frigid, icy water and demanded I take it before I drowned.  It wasn’t just the friendship or the forgiveness, it was that I’d been looking at the world completely backward.

               Greatness didn’t come from material things, or power, or wealth.  The world I’d lived in had been the one that was dull, grey, and mediocre.  The life I’d lived was colourless, and Tyson was offering me a riot of colour and a new life.

               And ever since the moment his hand wrapped around mine, there hasn’t been a single moment of grey.

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Theme 20 – Fortitude
“Game On”
Rated: NC17
Genre: Romance
Plot? What Plot? Drabble
Tyson’s POV – 1st Person

               Once I’m sure he’s sufficiently distracted and worked up, I leave off kissing Kai breathless to pull back, sit up and gaze down at the deliciously sexy display my lover makes.  I’ve come to learn (in the past year or so of our relationship) that Kai’s incredible focus and patience in the bey-dish does not extend to the bedroom – at least not when he’s on the receiving end, which is ninety percent of the time.  He likes it hard, fast, and a little rough.  Mostly I’m more than willing and able to oblige, considering it doesn’t take much from him to kick start my engine.  And it’s not because he wants to hurry up and get it over with as if he doesn’t like it, either, because it’s usually Kai who starts something.  No…I only recently figured out that it’s because he likes the end result too much.  He just wants to get there as quickly as possible, as many times as possible – it’s a whole new exercise in stamina for me, let me tell you.

               Not that I’m complaining, mind you (I’m not stupid, nor would I ever in a million years shirk such a gift), but every once in a while I kind of want to take it slower and play a little.  Experiment, if you will, to see not how many times I can make him lose it, but just how high I can get him before he does and just how spectacular it is when he does fall.  Breeching the subject to him and bring up my idea of how to achieve my goals took a surprising amount of guts from me, but luckily he was willing to try it if it would make me happy – which I should have known because, really, he’s up for just about anything.

               The result was what I am currently ogling.  Kai is gloriously naked, his skin gleaming pearly white thanks to the light sweat he’d already worked up.  I had him on his back, and I’m straddling his lower body (I’d be on his lap if he was sitting up), one knee on either side.  His hair was more than a little mussed and wild already, the soft strands standing out so starkly against the white of the pillow case, and his arms were stretched loosely, comfortably, up above his head where I’d tied them to the solid wood posts of the headboard by each wrist with a couple of ties.  And he was looking right back at me, the fiery crimson of his eyes mere slits being hooded by half-lowered lids and gorgeously thick lashes.  His lips were parted slightly, breath slowing from soft pants to something more even, and they were a little swollen and pink from our kissing.  I couldn’t help groaning as, knowing that I was staring at them hungrily, Kai slowly licked those lips to leave them glossy and tempting.

               “Now that’s playing dirty, Hiwatari.” I complained gruffly, retaliating by sliding one of my hands up from where they rested on his ribs to rub and pinch one little nipple teasingly.  “You promised!  I’d get to have my way, remember?”

               The bastard just gave me one of his most smug smirks – infuriating me, yes, but also serving to turn me on even more.  He’s very aware of his looks and how much they affect me, and he’s very sure of himself.  What can I say?  It’s totally hot, that confidence.

               It was beginning to look like even here we’d found a new kind of competition – a new contest of endurance.  Who could drive the other more crazy?  Me, trying to draw it all out and push him higher than previously attained heights?  Or Kai, trying to push me past my patience and give him what he wants?

               I suddenly grinned back at him, leaning down until I was right in his face, and smirked my own smugness when his eyes widened and he sucked in a startled breath.  He’d drawn the proverbial line in the sand, and this was my answer.

               “Oh, it’s so on.  Bring it.”

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