Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblades and if I did then I'd probably be a multimillionaire by now. Sue me and I'll sue you right back for suing me. LoL ;P
AN: This is an alternate storyline to what the
show actually is, eg, the break-up of the Bladebreakers earlier than
in the actual series. Fits the storyline better this way.
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The Chaos Theory
Kismet
'
It is thought that the single flap of a butterfly's wings can cause a monsoon halfway across the Earth.
Theory Discovered by
Edward Lorenz, 1960
A single flap of a butterfly's wings produces a small change in the state of the atmosphere. Over a period of time, the course of a wind in the atmosphere is changed. So, a month later, a hurricane that would have demolished the Indonesian coast does not occur. However, an even more devastating tornado that was never meant to be may consequentially devastate the city of Singapore.
'
It was an unusually silent night in the streets of Singapore. At 2 a.m. it was a curiously rare sight now to see anybody strolling the streets. The silence of the early morning was broken only by the panting of a blonde teen as he sprinted down the street. He took a quick left down an alleyway, reaching under his green shirt and tugged a small object off a thin chain about his neck. He formed a tight fist around the circular object so as not to drop it while he ran. The top half of his overalls had long since been torn into the orange tatters that hung over his belt. The teen sniffed back a choked cry of fear, rubbing the tears out of his eyes, causing him to trip over a wreckage of a crate built from iron rods. He let out a whimper of pain as he picked himself and his treasured object back up and kept on running despite the large bleeding gash on his leg.
Emerging from the alleyway into a large city-centre square, the teen had to squeeze his eyes shut as the single floodlight that lit up Merlion Park every night blinded his eyes.
He paused but a moment to allow his blue eyes to adjust to his sudden change of settings and lighting. The teen ducked behind the large greying statue of the Singaporean Merlion so as not to be seen by his pursuers. The Merlion's great mane had been a fierce and terrible sight to behold before the tornado and before the boy had gotten himself, and the rest of civilisation, into this mess. It was because of him that Singapore had been devastated by the worst tornado on record. He could still hear the terrified screams of the little girl he had tried to save. He could still see her flying through the air as she had been sucked into the twisting vortex. The blonde wiped the perspiration off of his forehead with the back of his hand.
Crouched low to the ground against the side of the once great
Merlion's fish tail he huddled in its shadow. He hastily pulled
out a thick yellow A4 envelope and shoved the shiny, circular object
inside along with a letter. He then sealed the envelope and looked
around for a post box, one of the few public services that were still
reliable.
Luckily there were two post boxes on the outer edge of
the square. Perhaps twenty metres away, the grey boxes shone a cold,
metallic gleam in the limited lighting.
There was a flicker of hope in the boy's desperate eyes. Perhaps there was a chance yet…
Shouts came in the direction of the boy's entrance into Merlion Square. Several torchlights jumped between the faces of the buildings that surrounded the Square. Large savage hunting dogs pulled against their leashes as their deep throated barks filled the Square and struck fear into the boy's heart. His heart plummeted at the memory of those vicious jaws and their cruel owners. Any moment now they would pick up his scent and it would be all over. Could he beat the dogs twenty metres to the boxes, even with a head start, the boy wondered. One of the dogs gave a sharp bark from where he had been sniffing the ground. The other four dogs immediately rushed over. They had picked up his scent.
It's now or never! Dear God, I hope I'm doing the right thing…the boy grit his teeth and clenched his grip tighter on the large yellow envelope with its previous contents inside.
Alright, Tate, on three, OK? Ready? Ok… One… two… three… go!
The boy lunged forward with a sharp intake of breath. Already fatigued by his earlier flight, the teen, by some miraculous power, commanded every last ounce of energy left in his body into reaching his goal now fifteen metres away.
Suddenly there is a shout from one of the men with the torchlights. The boy had been spotted and now all of the torches concentrated on him as he ran. The dogs are released for there was no holding them back once they had the scent. The boy hears the dogs and bids his feet run faster. Ten metres away from the box and he could hear their snarls as they gained on him. Five metres now and he is blinded by the intense pain in his lungs as his breath comes in short, sharp and painful stabs. His beautiful blue eyes pricked with tears as he endures this painful price for the sake of all he loves. The leader of the pack is now ahead of the other four dogs. He is a large, brutal-looking killer that spits saliva from its jaws as it races after the boy.
The boy was hardly two metres from the box and the dog three metres behind him, still spitting spittle from its jaws. The teen jumped the last metre, leaping onto the box and landing on his stomach. Leaning over the side, he frantically pulled at the handle on the side of the box, opening a hole big enough to deposit many letters. With a triumphant cry, the boy shoved the envelope inside and slammed the handle shut with a reverberating clang. Happily, he head the metallic lock inside the box lock securely as the letters were sent down a chute into the earth. With the last of his strength the boy attempted to roll himself over and land on his feet to try to escape his pursuers. But, alas, what little strength within him had been used up in his attempt to roll, consequentially resulting in a painful fall off the second post box and into the lap of the Merlion Cub. As he lay there in a delusional daze of joy there was a content grin on his young face as he gazed up into the Merlion Cub's graceful features. Now the tears ran freely down his face forming a thin trail down either side through his bloody and dirt-stained cheeks. Yet, despite his utterly miserable circumstances, the small blonde smiled, for through his tears he could see a distorted image of his mother's face within the cub statue, smiling upon him like she had not done for years.
"Don't worry, Mum," the boy croaked, his dehydration now taking its toll on his poor racked body. "It's OK, I've done it. The talisman's on its way. All will be right again."
He closed his eyes and whispered the name of the one on whom all his hopes now rested. As the dogs gathered around his scratched, bleeding and bruised body, the boy let out a small laugh.
"Kai… Hiwatari…" the boy mumbled before he slipped into a forever endless sleep.
The dogs, startled by the boy's sudden laugh, descended upon his lifeless form, tearing his body between their wide jaws.
The boy observed all this from a distance and felt a familiar hand take up his own. The teen looked up into his mother's eyes and smiled a truly happy smile.
Even as his body was torn apart, still there remained a smile on his lifeless face, full of hope for the future through the past.
'
Everybody present stared at the letter that was innocently sitting on the top of Kai's fine laced white tablecloth. A dark-haired boy leant forward in one of the kitchen chairs. Rei stared at the ground and had his long black hair out of its tie so that it covered the tears that ran down his face. The owner of the tablecloth sat beside Rei Kon at the small, round glass table silently, seemingly staring into space.
Yet, behind this ever-present mask was a suffocating mix of fear, anger and confusion, as well as a million other thoughts chasing each other around his head so that he felt like his skull was going to split. Afraid for his friend's life and angered by the fact that it such a kind soul could be in severe danger, Kai Hiwatari was still confused as to why Max had chosen him?
The redhead across from Kai let out a cough. Tala sat back in one of Kai's kitchen chairs, arms folded on his chest. He stared intently at the small white piece of paper that was causing his friends so much grief.
"I'll, um, put this away then, Kai, OK?" Tala offered, standing up.
"No, wait," Kai's hand shot out to grab the letter. "Read it out again, Tala," Kai said quietly as he handed the papers to Tala. "I want to hear it again."
"I don't think that's a good-"
"Please, Tala," Rei, who hadn't spoken a word since Tala had first read the letter to them, finally spoke up.
Kai gave Rei a grateful smile.
Realising defeat, Tala sighed and accepted the crumpled white papers from Kai's hand.
He began to read out loud.
"Dear Kai,
There is so much to tell you in so little time. I'm sure that even in Hamamatsu you have seen for yourself on TV the rise of Robert Jurgen and Michael Parker to power over here in Singapore. It was also most likely difficult to miss the 'natural' disasters that have befallen much of the African continent as well as the Russian capital of Moscow, the southern capital of Canberra and Singapore, both the country and the capital, the later of which being devastated the most. I personally know that they, both the tsunami and the multiple tornado phenomena, are a consequence of my misinterpretation of and interfering with time.
Kai, by the time you have read these words, I will already be dead. It's too late to change my kismet now. So don't go rushing off to Singapore to try and save me from the past. You can't. But you can save humanity.
'Kismet', it's an interesting word. It's a favourite word of mine that I've picked up from the locals, although it is foreign to their language, meaning 'Fate', 'Fortune', 'Destiny' or 'Doom'. Those four words hold so much meaning to me now.
Fate that which brings us together. We look at fate as if it were an inescapable web at the end of our lives. I know now that it is not so. The concept of fate, or an inescapable ending, will often bring together those who fear a common fate. Their common fear of their fate will persuade them to think of others differently, e.g. the aristocratic member of the Governor's family will work with the tanner, a member well within the lower-class level of society in order to change what they believe to be their 'dire' fate. In this way, they have accepted each other and helped one another in order to alter their situation, or fate. Therefore the term 'fate' should never be looked at and seen as an inescapable predicament, but rather a confrontation within yourself to do something about the problem and take the opportunity, whenever it comes, to alter your life for the better.
Looking at it my way, I see that both the tanner and the aristocrat had changed their lives for the better by accepting each other and working together.
Fortune that which we hold dear in our lives. It is the accumulated wealth of who we are. Our friends, family, experiences, loves, dislikes and emotions, passions… it is all what gives us leisure in our lives and makes our existence rich. All of this is our small fortune that we keep locked up safe in a vault.
Destinythat which we keep forever within our perpetual line of vision. We rely on the fact that every one of us has a unique and specific destiny, it is our safety barrier. It is that which keeps us going, that which motivates us, gives us a reason to live. A reason not to give up, not to let ourselves succumb totally to despair. It gives us a feeling of safety and comfort, for, a man or woman without destiny is a man or woman without a purpose.
Doomthat which constantly reminds us of our limitations. It keeps us in reality, always reminding us that we could have died at any moment before, yet suggests that we are most certainly going to die now. Doom is the excruciatingly tormenting concept that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. It's what limits our capacity to think outside of the box when all our minds can comprehend is our suggested death.
'Doom' is the sound of cannonballs shot out of a cannon and thudding into obstacles, often targets. The sailers of the 1800s said that the sound of a cannon firing is 'doom, doom, doom!' as it was first fired from the cannon, crashed into an obstacle and finally crashed again to the ground. The saying went that when you were about to die, you were doing to your 'doom', that is, you were going to the sound of a cannon firing at you. From this, the colloquialism 'doom' began to spread. Where we grew up, we knew the sound made by a cannon as a loud 'boom'. I personally find that fascinating. I wonder then if words such as 'destiny', 'fortune' and 'good-bye' have similar beginnings. True, 'good-bye' is a modernised shortened form of the words 'God Be With You' spoken by the Middle English before the end of the 14th century. 'Destiny' can be derived from the word 'destination', that is, an ultimate location. In a sense, 'destiny' is the ultimate direction in which we want to go. Now 'fortune' is a tricky one. Can you figure it out, Kai?
I can understand your confusion at this point, what with me talking about fate, fortune, destiny, doom, unnatural 'natural phenomena', the suggestion of the saving of humanity and my death. Be patient, all will soon be explained. (And yes, I do know how frustrated statements like that make you. )
By now I'm sure you'll have recovered the small, round object that I have sent to accompany this letter. While it may look like a small, insignificant butterfly that glints in the sunlight with all the innocence and purity of a simple necklace, Kai, don't underestimate its power. I found that out the hard way. And now the rest of humanity has to pay for it.
This is no bronze necklace, but a talisman. Damn powerful one, too! And it's the key to time travel. It's funny how such a seemingly harmless gift from one of your dearest friends can cause such desolation on the giver... I have attached another sheet after this introductory to explain how to operate the device within the heart of the butterfly.
As I know you like to keep everything neat and, most of all, organised, a full recounting of my- 'story' I suppose you could call it- can be found with the 'Operation Sheet'. Please read this before you try to use the Butterfly!
Kai, there is one last thing that I want you to do for me. I've said that the Butterfly is the key to time travel and you must believe me. I want you to travel back to when we were kids, when I was ten years old and you were eleven. Do you remember Satcha Gaiko? She was the Singaporean girl we met at that age. She was born in Singapore but grew up with us in Japan, hence her surname 'Gaiko', literally meaning 'outside child'. Do you remember how we were her only friends because we didn't reject her for being an outsider like us? I want you to go back to that day we met and stop the argument that followed after we introduced her to Michael Parker and Robert Jurgen. Michael had issues with his parents being killed in a Singaporean plane crash and had never gotten over that matter. He immediately hated her because of her origins and he and I began an argument over the issue.
Had we not argued the issue, I don't think things would have turned out as bad as they have.
This is only a short letter because I wouldn't have had much time left before I was found. I'm already dead, trust me on this. All you can do is go back to the past and change what we did and how we did things. Just remember, also, that for everything you do there is a consequence.
Good-bye, my friend,
Max Tate"
Tala turned away to hide the tears in his eyes. Although he had never become firm friends with the Max, he knew how much Kai and Rei were. Rei put his trembling hand on Kai's shoulder. Rei knew how fond Kai had been of the youngest blader.
'
So, what do you reckon? Any good? Please review so that I can better improve the story! Thanks!
River Rae