A/N: This is a tribute to my Big Sister (a form four I was paired with last year; she was in from five this year, about to do CXC 'O' Levels, dunno equivalents). Her name was Tarla and I just thought…Tarla…Tala…um, yaoi. No likey, no read! This is all I can do to show my sadness. I hope it's not too…I don't know. Feeling confused…Kind of OOC. BryanKai.

Disclaimer: Beyblade begins to Aoki Takao. The idea is mine, stemming from numerous horror story beginnings and the darkness inside me.

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"We are alone…no one can tell us what to do."

The soft words drifted over the tombstones. They were sung ever-so-quietly, so as not to disturb the single mourner. Lavender-grey eyes looked up, trying to figure out where it came from. The gale whipped his short, messy lavender hair about, obstructing his view. Little spots of wetness dotted the ground, a sure sign of rain. He scowled as the source of the words came into sight.

"What do you want?"

"I came to find you, Bryan," Kai said, standing on the path a few feet away.

"I want to be alone."

"You can't handle this by yourself."

"I'm not a child!"

Crimson eyes flashed angrily but Kai himself walked over to Bryan calmly. He looked at the grave, tears welling up. He hadn't cried at the funeral or after. Now, a month later, all the emotion he'd held down came bursting out. His shoulders shook violently and tears steamed down his face. The rain was pouring now, so the tears mingled with raindrops. Bryan stood uncertainly; he was crying as well. Neither had been any good at comforting people. Spencer had gone to Australia, to 'sort himself out'. Ian had appeared at the funeral, then disappeared again. They had each other only.

"Kai," Bryan managed to choke out.

The younger boy clutched at Bryan's shirt, burying his face in the older Russian's chest. Bryan's arms automatically wound around him, holding him close.

"Bryan," Kai sniffled. "I've been holding this in all month. Don't…don't tell anyone."

"I…" Bryan was at a loss for words, falling back into sobs. "Kai…I…"

Kai needed comfort. Bryan realized exactly what it was that Tala was always saying. He finally understood what this was, why he was angry when Kai treated him with indifference, why he was jealous when Tala seemed to be teasing Kai.

"I love you," he murmured.

Kai looked up, blinking. He was soaked through with water and as he stepped back, his sneakers squelched. He gave a croaking laugh. "You…don't tease me."

They stood before the grave, giving each other appraising stares, trying to find something that wasn't there before. They found it in the other's eyes, a pure vulnerability, one they had to hide so often. Tala's spirit, perching on his tombstone, smiled, a soft curve. Bryan stared right at the spot where the redhead's spirit sat, spooked. However, seeing the marble stone that Kai had bought specially made him more confident. Kai looked across at the same spot, crimson eyes still sparkling with tears.

"He didn't deserve this!" he burst. "Why? Why did he do it, Bryan?"

As the slate-haired teen sank into tears again, his body sank to the ground. He lay there, side of his face to the ground, crying and shivering.

"I don't know," Bryan whispered. "But he always wanted me to tell you how I felt. I didn't think I felt this way but…I do. Kai, believe me. I'm serious…I…I love you."

He sat on the ground, not caring if his clothes got any wetter. He pulled Kai up against his chest. The younger Russian gave a pathetic sniffle and gave a watery smile.

"I know you don't feel the same," Bryan said quickly. "You were close to Tala. You could never –"

Kai pushed himself up a little more, brushing his lips against Bryan's, leaving the older boy shocked. Now over his crying jag, Kai resumed being the all-knowing, emotionless prat he liked to pretend he was.

"Look at us. We're wet through and through. We'll get hypothermia now. And kissing in a cemetery. Isn't that bad luck?"

"I never knew you to be superstitious," Bryan countered. "Besides, it's stepping on a grave that's unlucky."

Tala watched his friends go, Kai allowing Bryan to slip an arm around his waist. Another soft smile curved his lips as his spirit floated upward. If only he hadn't slit his wrists…and the back of his heels…and the sides of his groin…and shot himself in the head. Then, they might not have had to kiss in a cemetery. His wheedling would have gotten through Bryan's skull at some point. Oh well…despair could be stronger than even the strongest ambition.

At least they had each other.

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A/N: And…um…I felt absolutely nada as I wrote. Is something wrong with me or was it just not that interesting? Anyway review. May Tarla R.I.P. I'm so depressing, even on a relatively good day…-sigh-…plus, today was my first day of final term in form two (equivalent of eighth grade, I think). Ja ne!