DISCLAIMER: I don't own Bakuten Shoot Beyblade.

(REPLACED CHAPTER; how come it wouldn't appear before?? The earlier reviewers ended confused just because this wouldn't show up sooner.) Okay, this must be the shortest piece of work I've ever done so far, and a oneshot at that. Actually, the idea just popped out of nowhere a few days ago at one of the most inconvenient times ever, but considering this fic wasn't even planned in my bio before, I decided to try a new style for writing it (tense-switching's intentional, BTW). I hope it works. And this time I added a little info on whose POV this is to clear everything. Hope you enjoy! :)

NEVER ENOUGH

Everyone says they look like a good couple. A BBA Team player and a dark-haired brunette in unspoken happiness.

But that player is not you.

Before you knew she exists, you were so happy. Beyblading in and out, night and day, nothing else mattered. You always looked for challenges, and beyblading was your medium where you found them. The world you were in spun and revolved around it. You found your strength and weakness there, your fans, your friends, your team. You became stronger and stronger without realizing it.

How do I know? I was there with you.

In class, you are just human. There is someone who is better than you, stronger than you, and you know it is not your teacher. A girl, and you hate to admit it. She yells orders at you, gets you into trouble. She is such a teacher suck-up, and you dislike her for that.

You never meant to let her inside your world. It was all an accident. But she got in somehow and then started taking charge of your life in beyblading. Even up to now, she still continues to do so. You hate her for that.

Or do you?

You did not mean to but underneath everything, you admired her. Cared about her.

You did not realize you actually love her. Not loved. Love.

But when you did, you couldn't express it at all. Whenever you tried, it always came out the opposite way. You had so much to hold inside, so much to keep. You fought with her, yelled at her, hurt her. In and out of school. In beyblading matters. Outside them.

You were never worried though, because there was no threat. No one was after her. Everyone was focused on beyblading, the one thing that bound you and her together.

But you were not the only one tied by its strings to her.

You thought Kai had more pride in one day than you ever had in fourteen years put together. You thought he cared too much about his reputation, something he had lived his life to keep in the midst of his own angst and experienced hardship.

Look at whose silent arms Hiromi is peacefully resting on today.

Now she is completely off limits to everyone. To you.

That Hiwatari never manifests his affections through his words but you can sense it through his actions. More than anyone, I can see through the light depths of his guarded eyes how happy he is, how peaceful his life is.

I never saw those before Hiromi came. Neither did you.

It was too late for you to realize how similar the way she looks at Kai now is to the way she did to you before. No, not similar; it is so exact, a replica.

You thought before that the difference between you and your teammate that made you like day and night gave you an advantage. You are a loud, energetic extrovert, he, a silent, cold social ineptness. You can vocalize your thoughts and emotions, while he would rather keep it to himself unless needed to be let known.

So how did everything get beyond twisted, you ask?

Kai took the risk of stripping himself of his pride, of making himself vulnerable for and before her when he had the chance. You didn't. He gave the chance to her. You gave it to pride. That is the difference.

And you never expected that to happen.

You wish you could live in your memories.

Do you remember each time she smiles? Each happiness?

You do not. But I remember.

Do you recall those battles where she cheers you on, rooting for you until victory is yours to keep?

You do not. I was there with her.

How about when you are so down, when the team is so down? She is the only one who tries lifting up falling souls, broken spirits.

Do you remember what you did when she tried to encourage you?

You left.

But I stayed.

So did the rest of the team.

Can you live in your memories? No, you cannot.

Inside your memories, you feel hope. A gentle force drives you with positive thoughts. A soft voice whispers to your ear until you can say to yourself, "Someday, I can tell her how I feel. Someday, she'll return my feelings too. Someday we will be together. Someday…"

But memories are not your life. You can think of as many made-up illusions to fool yourself with, but in the end, you always go back and face the harsh reality.

There, you always see the open way Hiromi admires your friend, the way she cares, the visible happiness radiating from her that makes her seem like the angel that was just within your reach if only you tried to reach. There, you are a witness to the silent manner Kai returns her feelings, as you can see from his behavior how he is now barely a fourth of the dark and heavy persona his evil grandfather and his tragic childhood made him out to be. You do not see him grin or yell praises at anyone but you know how happy he is, how Hiromi makes him to be. And she is also such one in his companionship, in his love. But they only see each other, and not you to see how you really are feeling.

There, you hear everyone saying how happy he or she is for this couple but at the same time casting gazes fabricated by worry at you.

Me? These two are also my friends. I can honestly say I'm glad for them.

But you cannot.

You never thought the day you first saw Hiromi would be the start of your real weakness. Bringing you down.

There, you are sitting at the railing of the bridge, cursing your pride, your feelings, your weakness, yourself. You ask yourself how you are so strong-willed in beyblading and everything else yet beyond weak in spirit in facing a facet of you that you cannot stop. Feelings. How come of all things, they make you so vulnerable? A repetition of the same questions so many times everyday that you had lost count days ago. The mask of a successful beyblader is becoming tighter each day that you cannot wear it anymore. You cannot harness your strength anymore either, and you are crying inside—again. Everything hurts. You do not think the tears will well up in your eyes but they finally do. They fall into the river below you, where they are carried away by its currents, now wild, just like your mind, farther and farther until they are quickly swept down onto the rocks below.

You see the chance of following those tears. You are tempted to be like them.

So tempted…

I am silently watching you when I see now how crazy you are. You do not know that I do. Before you know it, I try to stop you, talk about Hiromi, wonderful moments, your life when we are at victory parties, anything to keep you from leaning yourself forward any further and drop. But I can see from your expression how you do not care anymore about what anyone will say, how weak and such a coward you are, how you hate yourself for that. I keep feeding you with the same words but it is not working. If you hear me talking, I do not make any sense to you. How can you? You cannot even see me. Only the water below us.

I hug you, now yelling at you. This is not the kind of problem that will take you down! You are stronger than this! Remember your grandfather, your friends! I cannot comfort them if you go! Think about them, about everyone and all who had been a part of you and your life! Think about me! Does he hear me? I am not sure but somehow he must have, because his body suddenly freezes. Come on, think about the day you met me, when we met because of beyblading—

"Beyblading!" you hiss in pain. "The one that brought her to me!" Without another word, you escape from my hug and plunge yourself down, not fighting the cold deadly waters, even when you reach the vanishing point.

I never know if you have made past below it.

You leave everyone. Your family, your team, your fans, your friends…

You leave me.

Or would you have liked to bring me with you too? We did share a lot of real history together, from childhood to tournaments, to meeting Kai, Max, Rei, Kyouju, even to meeting Hiromi… Nobody, nothing knows how to make and how you feel better more than I do.

So I am not enough? Was not enough?

Perhaps I never was. Even I could not save you. I was not strong enough either to stop you, save you. If only I were…

Who could have known?

Happiness can also experience regret and pain.

So there! I tried using implication for a change (and quite a lot), but I don't know if it worked because it's my first time to try it out (so sorry if it sucked or anything). If you still don't get it, the happiness in the last line belongs to Takao (yes, the guy experienced it before but look what happened when Kai and Hiromi got together; or I can say in other words it's Takao's happy side or self and the current Takao is everything that he is but happy.). So it's really none of the others' POV (Max's, Rei's, etc) but rather the POV of Takao's happiness/happy side or self (told you it's implication; eyes in "through the eyes of..." doesn't necessarily mean the physical eyes.).

Rei: I think the better explanation would be that it's the POV of the personification of Takao's happiness/happy side or self. From there, everything else is implied.

Thanks, Rei. While writing this oneshot, I was under the influence of viewing Takao's pride different from Kai's. My brain worked bizarrely for this fic but there's no harm in experimenting once in a while, right?

Please leave a review! Thanks! :)