Before Beasts, There Was Fire--Book 2

To Hear a Soul

It just proved how abnormal he was that he took that nightmare to heart as a reminder rather than as the nightmare it was. Or, as most of us would take it, as a warning from our subconscious that maybe we're being paranoid...or perhaps sexually frustrated.

Be that as it may, he was ship shape aloof and cool as ever when he stepped out of the bathroom and into Ayah first thing after brushing his teeth that morning. He had planned to brush her aside and ignore her as he did every pleb, but then he caught a glance of what she was wearing.

Were those Tyson's---?

She slammed the bathroom door in his face.

Just then, Tyson himself walked past, whistling a tune and groaning when he found the door closed.

"Don't tell me I'm going to have to use Grandpa's. That man's odor could burn the hair off your chest."

He thought about asking Tyson why Ayah was wearing his jeans and T-shirt (Kai knew it was his because only Tyson would be moronic and arrogant enough to even keep his world champion T-shirt), but then he figured that he didn't care to know. The less he had to do with her, the better.

Then he noticed the next strange thing about that morning.

"What are you doing up, Tyson?" The sloth would sleep until three in the afternoon if anyone would let him—namely Hillary.

Tyson gave him an odd look. "It's noon. Where've you been?"

That made him pause. But not too much. If it hadn't been for the clouds he might have guessed the time by the sun, but, once more, Japan's bloody monsoon season had rolled in. Rain rain everywhere, which suited him just fine. It was better than that blasted heat.

"Oh, before you go, gotta tell you about my birthday surprise."

Kai inwardly groaned, but stayed put. Tyson flashed his most triumphant smile, as though about to tell him he had rented a strip joint just for the team...please say he didn't.

"Hillary helped me set it up—" okay, that was a good sign. "I took the liberty of dipping into our winnings savings and, with some birthday money from the Majestics, have rent the Tokyo beystadium for the evening for our own personal tournament! I've invited everyone we know—though, whether they come or not, we'll just have to see—but to help pay for it there was a limited ticket sale and locals can join the tournament for a fee and fight the best and—"

"Just how much of this did you do?" Kai asked.

"Uh, well, I made up the food menu and got everyone's email address—put up some posters."

"You know that money was for beyblade updates, right?"

Tyson gave him what the others termed as his 'manly pout.' "Jeeze, Kai, can't you just act excited for once? It's going to be us and who knows how many friends just duking it out. No titles, no show biz, just pure unadulterated blading and a crowd of adoring fans. It's going to be sweet!"

"And you're telling me because...?"

"Oh! Yeah. Make sure you're there by five, or you'll be declared an automatic loser and I'll make a youtube video of it and post it up onto the BBA website."

Kai wanted to face palm. Tyson hadn't even bothered to ask if he had wanted to participate or not. But, then again, this was pretty much the story of their relationship: Tyson dragging him along to things he didn't want to do just for Kai to find himself enjoying it...not that he'd ever tell Tyson that. And not that Tyson would ever have to ask. He just knew. That, or he didn't care.

Sometimes—okay, more like all the time, Kai wondered why Tyson even liked him. He wasn't exactly friend material.

He meandered down to the kitchen to find himself a generic breakfast of leftover rice and fried eggs, topped off with his favorite lemon earl tea. Today didn't feel like a coffee sort of day, even though he caught himself yawning. He figured he could take a run to loosen himself up (since apparently there was to be an impromptu tournament now), followed by a bit of light training. He had been to Tyson's so often, he had favorite haunts already set in mind when he came around the corner to find Tyson, Max, and Grandpa Granger huddled practically on top of each other by the shoe rack with their ears pressed to the door. The strange sight woke him from his thoughts enough to register that someone was singing. Somebody male.