Yet another Kai/Hil story that's been creeping around in my head for ages and I've finally decided to post. This chapter is quite short and is jsut a prologue to sort of explain Hilary's gift thing:S I've decided to write this in first person which is sort of challenging for me since I've never written in first person before now so if its really crap I apologise!

Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade

Prologue

The boy streaked past the clearing of trees so quickly it seemed as if he was the wind itself, sprinting like a breeze and almost as invisible. His body motion made him look like he was carefree, confident but his face betrayed him. Looking into his crimson eyes, the wideness showed fear and on looking a little deeper there was also desperation.

What was he running from?

His slate and blue two-toned hair streamed behind him slightly as he gracefully dodged tree after tree. It was then that it was made aware there was something after him. No. Not something. Some one. Many of them. Their shouts and hollers echoed through the leaves, making it almost impossible to determine whereabouts in this maze of forestry they actually where. Not for this boy, though. He'd been trained so well that it took more than a bit of tactical voice throwing to put him off. He knew the exact location of each and everyone of his would be captors and, even better, he knew just how to avoid them.

Except, of course, one voice which he couldn't pick up. One of them was remaining silent and the boy knew exactly who this was. If there was a man to hide from, this was him. The game of cat and mouse had begun.

A branch whipped him in his eye and he had to bite his lip so hard it drew blood just to stop himself from crying out. If he did that, his position would be discovered and in this situation he didn't like to think what would be in store for him if it was. He'd been a fool to think he could escape from them. A Goddamn fool. But here he was now, running for his life in torn up jeans that had actually been brand new Levi's when he'd left his house not two hours ago and a bare torso. There hadn't been enough time to even put shoes on and his feet were well aware of that fact as they pounded down heavily on pine cones and needled leaves. The pain didn't' matter to him. Nothing did anymore. Pain had been a way of life for so long he'd gotten used to it, like a new hair colour or a law.

There was a clearing between the trees and the boy could just make out the field beyond it. This was the homestretch. If he could make it past this then he would be in the city and safe, for now. He knew where he would go too. He would go to a friend's house. Some one he could trust – it scared him to think how few came to mind. Yes, that's what he would do. He'd go to that safe haven until he thought of a new plan. He'd need to get money somehow but his closest friends were rich enough and loyal enough to willingly borrow however much he needed if it meant getting away from the hellhole that was his life. Hell, they might even beg to go with him.

A fresh breath of wind hit his face as he escaped the woods which he'd been a prisoner in for almost an hour and half and he pumped his legs harder than ever before. The field wasn't too long but he was close to exhaustion so it was impossible to judge the distance accurately. He'd have to hope that it wasn't too far so that he collapsed at the finish line. Giving himself another burst of his finite energy, he sprinted as fast as he could and could almost taste the sweet air of freedom when he felt something on the back of his Achilles' tendon and went down hard, banging his chin of the soft ground. Beside him was a small stone and he realised that some one must have thrown it with some force and accuracy to hit him in the place that would cause the greatest effect. He tried to get up and carry on running but the damage was done. His tendon had gone numb and he could no longer run any further.

"Damn it!" He cried out, frustrated that after coming so far he had been taken out by a stone. That's all it had taken to stop him. He knew that he shouldn't be so hard on himself as to have gotten this far was a miracle and the people who had been chasing him so far were thoroughly trained in the art of recapture. They knew all the weak points on a persons body.

If only he'd stopped to put on some Goddamn shoes! Then this wouldn't have happened and he'd be walking the streets of Los Angeles with a chance to live his own life. That was another unreasonable thought. If it hadn't been the weak point of his ankle it would have been another area of human weakness.

In the moonlit field, he felt a shadow cast over him and looked up with such hatred that the man looming over him actually laughed, despite the close call of losing such a precious target. The boy despised this man with such ferocity he could name off the top of his head a million painful things he'd like to do to him, given the chance. There was still one man who he loathed even more and he was about to be brought before him, ragged and torn, pleading for forgiveness like a common beggar.

"A brave attempt, my boy," the fiend smiled, happy that the game was over and he had been the victor. His smile then turned into a leer as he grabbed the boy's hair and raised him up to his eye level, making his feet dangle a few inches from the ground. "Did you honestly think we would let you escape? Some one as precious as you are to the master?" He laughed menacingly. "You were stupid to think that. Now, you're going to see just what your stupidity has got you into. We're taking you home and I can guarantee that your grandfather isn't going to be too pleased to see you."

The boy felt two people grab his arms behind him in a firm grip and he was marched to a security van where he would be taken to meet the biggest tyrant of them all.


I woke up and realised I'd been sweating so hard my sheets were drenched. I'd like to believe it was because I'd had a nightmare but I knew that just wasn't the case. Dreams like that aren't ever nightmares, not to me. When I can feel the emotions of the people in them, smell the air around them and see even cleared than you can in an ordinary dream I know that I'm not in fact dreaming. I suppose it's what most people could call a vision, only its happening as I dream it. That's why I was sweating. It was knowing that this had just happened to that boy. Something inside of me told me his name was Kai Hiwatari and I knew I was right.

The thing about my gift is that I not only see things but I also know things. Like, this Kai guy, for instance. I saw him running from something and when I woke up I was instantly filled with information about him: his name, age, date of birth. That's really all I know. I don't see into his mind or his memories or whatever. Unless, that it, he does it for me in my dream. Unfortunately, I'm not a psychic.

Anyway, that was the first time I'd seen. That's right. The first time I saw him was in dream, just like the others. I knew I'd have to help him, just like all the others. Unlike the others, helping him turned out to be the most dangerous thing I'd ever done.

Who are the others, you ask? Or maybe you don't and I just want to talk a little more. The others are other people I've helped with my gift. Helping people is just something I do. There's not point in having a power as good as mine and not making use out of it. Or making use out of it for your own profit. That's just selfish and my dad taught me that being selfish is one of the most loathsome characteristics a human can have. I guess I don't want to make myself anymore loathsome than I possible am, which is frustrating because I'm not actually loathsome at all but people just assume I am. I don't know why. I think its because of the company I keep. I mainly hang around with boys, you see. It's not because I'm a slut or anything. I just find girls much harder to talk to and make friends with. I guess its kind of pathetic but I'm happy being pathetic.

The weirdest thing about my visions – thought I prefer to call them dreams since it sounds cooler – is that it can be about anyone and anything. Like, I sometimes dream about stuff that people have lost. A hamster, or a purse. I even dreamed about a pet tarantula and that one did feel like a nightmare. Sometimes I dream about people who are lost, like runaways, kids who've been kidnapped or sometimes even criminals. In that case I always tell my dad and he passes it on to the police as an anonymous tip. More often than not, I dream about people who just need my help in general. Like, if people are being abused or whatever or if they're just plain lonely. I let them know that I know what they're going through and exactly how they're feeling (which isn't a lie since I feel people's emotions when I dream about them; sort of as if I become them, if you can understand that). I've probably helped saved a lot of people's lives that way, in one way or another, and I'm proud of that. What I'm even more proud of is that I don't go around boasting about it. Nope. The only people who know what I do are my closest friends and my father. To be perfectly, that suits me just fine. I'm not one for attention since my face goes all red and I start to stammer a lot. Plus I get these huge sweat patches under my arms that look plain gross.

As for getting praise, the only person who really gives me it is my father. My friends just make fun of me, but in a kind hearted way. The way friends do. I know that they think my gift is sort of cool, and they've told me that too. In short, I don't get big headed because I'm like Batgirl, you know, helping people from behind a mask, thought I have to admit having a costume could be sweet. I just help people because its in my nature and I don't like people to suffer. There's too much suffering in the world already and if I can help to cut that down then I'm more than happy too. Plus I'm a big believer in karma.

Another thing I should probably tell you about my dreams – if you keep reading on you'll start wondering why I didn't see some things happening before they did – is they are totally random, which is a bitch when you think about it. Sometimes I fall asleep in the middle of the day and have dreams about a little girl's dolly and sometimes I can have horrors in the middle of the night, like Kai's. I don't decide when I dream and what I dream about, they just happen. I wish I could control it but I can't. Maybe if I had some sort of training I could but who exactly am I going to go to for that? Mystic Meg? Not likely. So I have to cope with these random dreams an try to explain myself out of the weirdness (especially if I'm in the middle of class). On the plus side, it always means I get plenty of sleep which is probably why my skin is so pimple free when so many of my peers have faces you could fry a McDonald's on.

Anway, to round things up, this was how it begun with Kai. I had a dream about him that filled me with horror like I'd never felt before. I knew I would have to help out of his situation and, like I said before, it turned out to be so dangerous it almost cost me my life, thought it did cost me other things which I won't talk about until the time comes.

Would I still have done it if I'd known what would happen? You bet.


Please review!

jellybean-kitty