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18

Tyson is up off his seat as soon as I walk out of the psychiatrist's office and enter the waiting room, voicing one question over the next, "So, what did he say? Are you going to be alright? Did you tell him everything? What about the panic attacks? Did he prescribe any med-hey..." He trails off when he finally takes a glance at my face. "...hey, what's wrong, you look awful, Hils."

"Thanks." I croak out, voice hoarse from practically an hour of holding back tears and failing, and move past him to get my bag off the seat next to the one he'd just abandoned. "And I'm fine." I say more out of habit than anything else and it doesn't look like Tyson's buying it of course; he races to catch up to my fast paced steps, his cap in his hand the way it is when sometimes he feels anxious, and voices his concern again.

"What happened?"

"I spent an hour being drilled about very traumatizing events, Tyson, what do you think happened." I bite out, quickening my pace so he doesn't have to see the new tears that are threatening to escape, but he catches up easily, looking no amount of offended that I expected.

"What did the doctor say?"

Sighing, I relented, "He scheduled another appointment."

"What about the panic attacks?"

"Medication."

And maybe it's an entire hour of saying things I've been keeping locked up for over a year, or maybe it's the relief in Tyson's voice when he says, "Oh, good." but I find myself relaxing just a little bit enough to say, "I was so scared."

"Yeah?" He says, as if trying to sound nonchalant, "What for?"

"I've been keeping it hushed for so long, it kind of went against my reflexes, you know?" I fall back into a casual pace, sniff a little and wipe the tears on the edges of my sleeve as Tyson follows wholeheartedly, "I guess I found some sort of a ...cushion in denial. And to say so much of it out loud meant acknowledging it happened, and it just brought back some really painful memories."

He hesitates, thinking, then as if choosing his words very carefully, he goes, "So, did you tell him everything?"

We stop at a small french fries stall, and I watch as Tyson puts his cap back on, juggles some change in his pocket and answer with a careful, "Most of it." I purse my lips, wondering if I should continue or not, and Tyson is not the one to pressurize. He exchanges the money for food and a water bottle that he hands to me along with one warm take away box, jokes a little with the shopkeeper and by the time we start walking again, I've drunk some water so my throat feels less dry and have fully composed myself.

"I told him how it started." I say even more carefully, "How it ended. And then two weeks back."

For a few seconds, he turns his gaze towards me, his auburn eyes unreadable and for a moment I wonder if he's curious enough to demand the answers right now- I still hadn't gotten around to telling him yet- but he doesn't. He looks away, waving to a Taxi across the road, and I almost don't hear him when he says, "What didn't you tell him?"

"Hm?"

"You said you told the doctor most of it. So what didn't you tell him?"

"Minor things here and there." I reply shorty. We get into the cab after Tyson explains the address and I finally start munching on my fries. I see Tyson's almost done with his. "Mostly, I suppose, how it was while it lasted with him? I dunno..."

I instantly regret getting comfortable enough to say this because it seemed to have piqued Tyson's interest. He sits up straight and then, trying to sound casual, he shrugs and goes, "So, how was it while it lasted with him." He questions without a question, almost reminding me of Kai, and I nearly smile, "I don't remember you mentioning a boyfriend, ever. Or even dating someone."

"Because I thought you guys would make fun of me." I admitted laughing, almost embarrassed but recover myself when I see Tyson roll his eyes. "Also, it lasted for such a short while, I didn't think it was necessary to mention. I mean-" I rephrase when I see Tyson open his mouth in protest, "It was just a fling and I didn't see it going anywhere so didn't really think enough about it to tell people, is all."

"Where did you two meet?"

"The library." I say, and see the respond in Tyson's eyes before he even voices it.

"I told you, I told you! I literally tell you all the time to freaking keep away from the library."

I let out a lighthearted laugh, "Oh, I also remember you telling me to 'go back to the library' every single time you and I fought, too."

"Because I believe you were birthed in the library, the amount of time you spend in there? Excuse you, but nothing good ever comes out of the library."

"That literally makes zero sense, Tyson. Who spends all their time where they were born, what stupid logic-"

"Pft."

"That's not even a proper argument."

"Pft. Pffftttt."

"You are such a child-"

And he's laughing and I'm laughing and I forget about my troubles for the rest of the entire day.

"Hey, Hils! Over here!"

I look around to see Kenny waving at me from one of the benches in the practice room that I just entered, and I make my way towards him, almost stepping on Draciel as it whoozes past me. Kai barks out an order at Max in response and I roll my eyes.

"I see Kai hasn't stopped relishing bossing people around." I say as I sit down next to Kenny on the very top benches -a safe space from what looks like a hazardous daily practice. I look at the benches at the bottom, and they're absolutely in shambles, the woodwork destroyed, the edges of the walls cracked, most of the obstacles provided for practice in this room smashed into pieces.

Wow. Kai's been really pissed if this is the result of the past three entire weeks.

"It's going to be a dull practice today since tomorrow's the match." Kenny starts, fixing the camera on his laptop and zooming into where Drigger and Draciel were colliding against each other. Something about the way they kept clashing, then completely disappearing, then back again, seemed so off to me-

"I called you out here for this, have a look-" And he replayed in slow motion the way the green and gray blades smashed against each other, initiating some sparks for a millisecond, then go shooting back in their respective directions with a speed that has to be at least twice as much as they initially had. He plays it over again and the off part that I detected the first time is the blades coming in at normal speed and leaving at such a high speed that you could blink and miss it.

"Umm."

I start to question but Kenny's already ahead of me, turning his laptop back into it's position, and recording the match, he turns to me and goes, "So I took a look at that chip you gave me a few weeks ago. The one that you stole from the Dynasties, and I remade it, but only better."

"That's what's in there?" I am unconditionally shocked. "I stole it as proof that they were cheating! Not so you could make it's minions."

"Excuse me, Hils, but Kenny and I worked really hard on those." Dizzy interrupts, "What does a bitbeast trapped in a fourteen year old's laptop has to do to get some appreciation around here? Unbelievable."

"Well, you're not going to use those, are you? It'd be cheating. The rules explicitly say that nothing other than the primary beyparts will be used to build beyblades, and the primary parts include only bit chips, attack rings-"

"The cheerleader is schooling us on beyblade parts. The amount of degradation in the past three minutes, is too much."

"Well, so-rry if this cheerleader thinks it's important to play fair-"

At this point, Kenny, seemingly annoyed at Dizzy and I arguing, interrupts with a, "Mr. Dickinson said we could use them since The Dynasties will be using them too, so it's only fair. Also he helped me dig for parts to create those, so your arguments are invalid."

I don't know for how long my mouth hands open, but when I finally respond, it's a loud, "What!" that echoes through the entire room, and for a few seconds, the guys pause to look at up at us. When they've finally looked away, I whisper a, "What."

"He can't disqualify them..." He says as-a-matter-of-factly, straightening his glasses on his hair out of habit, and continues, "Anyways. So that chip's logic was fairly simple. It's, in layman's terms, micro motor of a sort, which increases the revolutions per second of any beyblade it's fit into. Now, usually, that depends on the strength of the launch, the muscle power of the beyblader etcetra and this chip takes that and multiplies it three times over..."

He pulls up a chart on his laptop, it's two bars labeled each over the names of Kai, Max, Ray and Tyson.

"The first bar is the spins on average without the chip, the second bar is with the chip. You can see the difference-" The first bars were shorter by more than half the lengths of the second ones. He points to a figure at the end of the chart, which says 118 revs per second - Ray. "This is the highest recorded value. Without the chip, Ray has an average of about 40 revs per second."

"I suppose what it does by increasing the revolutions, is increasing the speed, and eventually the power output?" I ask, trying not to think of the blade slashing into my shoulders, shattering the very walls it met, and Kenny nods.

It was, indeed, a fairly simple logic but with disastrous results if fit into just the right thing.

"And Max and Ray's blades were both coming at each other it was already too much power, so the reaction of the collision is twice over AKA more speed."

"And that is the flaw." Kenny says, shutting the laptop lid as it looks like the guys are wrapping up too, "Just like with any machine, the higher it's acceleration, the harder it is to control. That's what everyone's been slaving over, over the past few weeks."

I shudder, not liking any of this but all I can say at the end of it all is, "It's only fair I guess."

"Do you guys mind if I don't join you tomorrow?" I say over dinner that night after much contemplation. When everyone looks at me questioningly, I feel almost guilty and shy enough to say never mind, but will myself to continue, "I know it's the finale and it's important but it's just that...well, I don't want to be anywhere near that asshole, if I can help it."

As soon as those words are out, there's sudden understanding on everyone's faces, and words fail to describe how much I appreciate it.

"I've already talked to Tala, and he says he'll be here tomorrow morning. And I'll watch you guys on TV-" this was a lie, I don't think I could take watching That Asshole on TV either, not mid way through the process of stripping of every band aid and putting it back the right way over the mental scars he's left, it'll only halt the healing- but I can't just offer up nothing from my side.

"Hey, don't worry about it." Ray says, offering a warm smile, and I breathe a sigh of relief, "We understand. Just take care of yourself."

Tyson snorts, and goes, "Yeah, try not to visit the library around the corner."

I throw a cucumber slice at him, and he rolls his eyes while everyone looks confused but eventually shrugs and gets back to eating. Through all of this, I don't fail to notice Kai looking avidly in my direction, his gaze so intense it could burn a hole and as soon as I level myself to look straight back, he only blinks and looks away.

I clench my jaw out of sheer rage. I know better than to do anything but show the same indifference I've been receiving from him.