Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.

 

Inferior

We were walking over orange leaves. There was no talking. I wouldn't have liked it any other way. The trees made shadows. There was just the sound of the rustling leaves, which were still hanging on the trees. They threatened to fall down and sometimes, the wind would let them sail through the air. I was sad.

It wasn't me who sighed. And it wasn't me who stopped walking. It was him, and I was glad for that. At least this last time he would be the weak one. I spotted a red leave. It looked out of place between all the orange and yellow ones.

Was it me or were the shadows getting darker? It was noon. I turned around and faced him with all I had- which was nothing and everything all the same. 

Briefly I wondered if he was feeling happy, but stopped the thought instantly. It wouldn't do me any good to think about that longer than necessary. I distracted myself with the question why there were no birds at all. It was, if you really thought about it, really strange.

Then I accidentally looked at him. It was still getting darker. I was shivering. What was this smell? I never liked leaves. They are too familiar. I think too much when I look at them. One leave is just a piece of nothing which lives to serve the purpose of breathing for the tree. It never lives for itself. It is being used all the time. And when it is finally sailing down its soul is falling with it. Down, somewhere deep down, somewhere cold.

Fallen hope makes the peace restless.

Something inside of me died, when I saw him smiling. He pulled me roughly back into reality with his dark chuckling. I stood proud and dead. My tears killed by emotionless words. I was sure it was getting darker by then.

I thought about the stove, which was still burning. Unfortunately I wouldn't be there to see what happened to it. Somehow I felt almost good. The sadness was gone, long ago. Was it his chuckle which awakened this weird feeling of satisfaction? Or did it kill something?

Did he kill me?

The whole thing almost seemed like a bad dream. Or was it bad? I didn't know yet. I would watch and feel. Then, later, I would know.

More red leaves were falling.

I didn't know why but I started to feel colder and colder each second. It wasn't that cold was it? I thought of the stove and another red leave fell down.

I was shivering and everything seemed to spin around me. Was I falling down? There was no stove and no leave to think about anymore. Something hot touched my soul and burned my heart. And when it was gone I felt…strong.

But I wouldn't be able to talk for centuries, falling down the cold dark eternity of a mental grave… 

                     …The red fire breaking my defence and making me the slave I am now.

Fallen hope makes the peace restless.

           And when I awoke, I was another fallen hope, another fighter against nothing- Fighting just to hurt... Fighting to win. For my master, whom I am to follow or fall back into the black nothing. 

I am restless…

…For I have to fight with a name, which is not mine and with an intention I do not understand.

                                                      I am the fire,

                                        I am the flying bird,

                             Which they call Dranzer. 

                                                                                     And I hate leaves…

                                                                                                                                    …especially the red ones…