Like A Shooting Star

Dead Word

Merry Christmas.
Christmas.
It was a dead word for Kai.

Yet strange fire burned cold violet pools. They closed, a trip to the same darkness of memories, of innocence and confusion, of longing, loneliness, and death. Death of a young child.

Snow was even colder where the child stood, heavenly blue bangs matted with the joyous promise of Christmas white, watching from afar with big wide eyes people parade with homemade lanterns, torches, candles around the church. They seemed so warm and happy there; he couldn't get why he wasn't allowed to go there, why he couldn't join them. So he asked his grandfather.

"Because it's Christmas," was the cold reply.

"But what's wrong with Christmas?" He was so confused. He dimly remembered himself walking with those people, his father and mother with him when they were still alive. He told that to his grandfather, his caretaker, his only family.

"They are dead already. Forget them and Christmas; focus yourself on becoming strong. Even though you're my grandson, there is no special treatment for you inside the monastery."

The child was left disappointed but dutifully followed his grandparent back to the cold, cold walls of confined training and discipline. He would get his chance, he promised himself. He would do everything to please his grandfather, and maybe, he would be pleased enough to make the young beyblader see Christmas again.

One year went by, but it was the same thing all over again. The boy couldn't understand. His dinner was no different from the other boys', a hot but ordinary meal empty of warmth and love. He stared at the plate, then at the dark, cold space of the vast dining room. All alone. Visions of his father throwing a spoonful of kutya up to the ceiling of his festive home. They seemed almost real, the special porridge of wheatberries and honey almost lingering in his taste buds, his mother's voice warming his heart about hope and immortality, happiness and success. He asked if he could have even just a morsel of that meal.

"You don't really understand, do you, Kai?" Volkov, his trainer, regarded him with the same harsh and icy degree he felt with his grandfather a year ago. "In this training ground, no one knows what Christmas is. You should know by now what a big disappointment you are to your grandfather."

Disappointment? He could he be? He was better already; he always beat everything and everyone, and whenever he received his punishment for failing once or twice, he came back always even stronger, more powerful. Wasn't this what his grandfather wanted?

"Fool!" A powerful spank sent the blue-haired boy to the rough ground, a young cheek nearly scraped. "You should be the best, and the only best there will ever be." And behind his mask was a lurking evil, something that held the boy in dread as the violet hair turned more ominous. "And your grandfather wants me to make sure of that now."

Eyes widened with terror, a tear falling from one of their corners. "But... It's Christmas eve..."

"No tears, Kai. I pity the weakness you're displaying now. But I won't allow it; this is the Christmas you shouldn't forget."

Three hours later, the child came out of the training room, a broken ripcord in the right hand, the other hand covering one of the multiple bruises and blows received for taking time in attaining perfection, darkness smothering his dirty face.

The next Christmas came; he couldn't take it anymore. St. Nicholas must know the answer, but the child was afraid to come out and ask him. All the boy ever wanted was Christmas with his family. But his parents were already gone, and he couldn't do anything about it. He was counting on only one person.

"You never learned from your mistakes, Kai. I didn't raise you to be like that. Enough of you and your Christmas foolishness."

"But I don't have to spend Christmas outside the monastery; I just want to celebrate it with you, my own grandfather."

Same spank that sent him to the floor.

He didn't give up, though his will was a crumbling wall already. "Why?" Desperation. "I don't understand why I can't spend Christmas-"

"You are not advancing any further, Kai! With each festive fantasy you hid in your soul, your distraction grows even more. The memory of Christmas is leading you astray, weakens you each day. In the path of achieving the perfect strength and power, there is no room for a softening heart!"

Each time he tried to open his eyes to the Christmas spirit, his grandfather would close them with beatings. Until the final rain of blows came, until he died. The one who took his place buried him forcibly into himself, a slightly older boy with triangle marks on his hardened face.

"Tell me, Kai. Share with me what Christmas is for."

"Christmas." No emotion reflected. "What's that?"

And his grandfather never touched him after that. Kai grew in strength, with no tears. Throughout the years of following the old man's commands, he would see the same parade of people with the same number of lights in their hands, watch snowballs being made by children, witness the bright lights of homes, families getting ready for a Christmas dinner. But there was no happiness, not even a shred of anger fueled by the mere sight. After all, it was impossible to feel anything for something he didn't know about. He hadn't been punished, just that helpless child who longed for his family Christmas. All he had was the knowledge of that child's path to death that he took once a year. Kai came back to Japan still carrying that insignificant memory, tried to accomplish his tasks, got stuck with the BBA Team, betrayed them, was welcomed back, cut his ties with his grandfather, and won the championships with his team. New people appeared, endless enemies came, but in the end he was still bonded to his teammates. His friends.

And one person in particular.

Wine eyes burned again.

Kinomiya Takao, his rival who never gave up on him and friendship.

A friend is like a teddy bear

To hug and hold,

When the world has given you,

All you can bear.