Disclaimer: I do not own Beyblade; it belongs, in it's entirety, to Aoki Takao-sensei.

Note: This story was completed over a year ago. Please keep that in mind when and if you criticize my writing style, characterization, etc. I have improved immensely since the completion of this tale. Hope to see you check out my other stories!

Ageless

Kyuubi Tenshi

Prologue

Stress Relief.

Everybody needs it, but not everybody gets it. I'd know. The name's Gazelle. Lotus Gazelle, and I, more than anyone in the world, know what it means to need some serious stress relief. Unfortunately, like others, I can't get it. But it's my particular brand of stress that makes me so unique. You see, it all started with this law that Japan passed about six months ago. They're experimenting with it on one generation to see how it works. In said law, all the boys who are residents turning 17 this year are to be married to a girl of their parents', or guardian's, as the case may be, choice by two weeks after said BDay. And they can't get divorced without their parents', or guardian's, permission until they are 21. It was supposed to cut down on divorce or something. Ok, so far nothing unique to me, correct?

Oh, did I mention I found out on Friday 13? And that my cat, that just happens to be black, chased a mouse across my path five minutes before I found out? Or that the morning before, I accidentally knocked my hand mirror off the dresser and broke it? Guess not.

So it should have been no surprise when a super evil-looking old guy showed up at the front door and took me to his mansion to be his grandson's bride, right? Especially when his grandson is infamously cold to everyone around him, and so cute at the same time, right? Can we say déjà vú?

Ok, here's how it went down. Dude comes to my house, gives me one hour to pack my stuff. If it didn't get packed, it didn't get got. I was able to pack my sewing machine, guitar, laptop and back-up diskettes, my clothes, and a few other miscellaneous items before one of his thugs dragged me and my stuff downstairs and tossed me in the back of a waiting black Jaguar. Yeah, a Jag. The dude almost busted some of my guitar strings, too.

He came a long way to get me, too. I lived in Ireland. So, before I know it, I'm on a plane to Japan and I'm scared out of my mind. Not. Various things were running though my head at random. Mostly really goofy stuff like 'I hope I didn't forget my hairbrush' and 'I wonder if I have to remember to bow?' Most people think I'd be worried about whether the guy would like me or not. In all reality, I could've cared less about what he thought about me, even though I probably should've hoped for a chance to change. After all, the Granddad had barely given me enough time to pack, let alone change my clothes from cleaning out the barn stalls that morning. For heaven's sakes, that morning I was supposed to have showered and washed my hair, but I hadn't gotten to it. The plane landed, and everything went smoothly. Including the tongue-lashing that I was giving one of his cronies for nearly busting my guitar.

"You SO owe me a trip to the repair shop! I can't believe you handled it like that, I mean, how dumb can you get?!" I screeched in his ear; I wasn't about to let it go. "Were you born in a cave?! Have you never handled an instrument in your entire life…?!"

"Please don't tell me this is the one," came a sarcastic voice. I looked up and try to pinpoint it. After all, the guy spoke perfect English, but I couldn't seem to do so. But then, he came forward, in all his irresistible, amethyst-eyed glory. Yeah, I thought he was hot from the start. First reaction?

"You are so evil."

For some reason, he was amused with that reaction. Smirking, the boy said, "Well, at least we agree on something."

That surprised me. He didn't like his grandfather? Scarily good coincidence, if I did say so myself. I looked him over. He had gotten a bit dressed up for this occasion, evidently. Probably at the insistence of one of the higher servants or his parents, or so I thought. His clothes were a simple pair of blue jeans and a t-shirt that said 'When fire meets water, fire always wins' in red-orange letters on a black background. His hair was a little long, and it was two-toned gray and black. But his eyes were his best feature, a seemingly luminescent 3-D-ish violet. I was more than a little uncomfortable in sight of how good he cleaned up. A very dirty faded pink t-shirt and denim shorts with hiking boots was most definitely creating a less-than-favorable first impression. My ponytail was messy, positioned at the nape of my neck and held in place by a rubber band from our kitchen. A baby blue and white tie-dyed scarf tied around my head to make it look at least half-way decent. I was a wreck, to put it lightly. And he was giving me one heck of an once-over.

"W'sup?" I asked nervously, sticking out my hand. It was getting a little nerve racking, him standing there, looking me over in my less-than-presentable state. His amused smirk still firmly in place, he turned around, not even bothering to shake my hand, and started walking off. "Well that went well," I muttered sarcastically under my breath. All things considered, at least he didn't despise me.