Beyblade and all it's likeness does not belong to me. No profits are being made off this story.

[Author Notes]

Hey everyone! This was a story that I wrote to get away from all the other unfinished ideas I have floating around. I decided to finish the fic and then post it. So here it is – the fic I've been working on that has become very dear to me over the past few weeks. It's a post Beyblade fic, they're around 17-18 in age. I didn't include Daichi or Jin (sorry ~_~). Anyway, I figured, there are so many fics with Kai's point of view on loving Tyson that I'd do it the other way around. Don't worry its not too serious… I hope. O.o;

Hope you like it!! This one's dedicated to me! ^_^ The first chaptered fic I've ever finished!

[Prologue] The One Who Got Away

"So this is the place, huh?"

"Kid, ain't no one else been through here for the past two weeks. I'm downright positive that he was here – I showed him it myself!"


"Do you have any logs - any record at all - that I could take a look at? Y'know, so I can confirm a date and name."

I lift my worn baseball cap off my head and wipe the sweat off my brow. My long bluish black bangs become mussed. The heat's sweltering in this part of the country – more so than I thought it would be. But it's the first time I've ever gone through the area, and I didn't think there'd be any reason for me to in my entire life.

But he's been here. So I have as well.

"Sure do! Why didn't you say you knew his name before?"

That's Bill - the old man who's in charge of looking after this place. He's not sweating like me, but then again, he's probably used to this heat. His eyes are squinty and surrounded by wrinkles that bear his age.

I wave my hand sheepishly. "Sorry I just always look for the marks he leaves behind first." My head tilts to the side to indicate the old complex.

It's a ranch that we're on. The large place is run-down and dust keeps flying up into my face making my eyes water. There's a sign hanging off one chain link, the other one's broken from being so heavily rusted. It reads 'Old Man Warner's.' A faded picture of a horse adorns the space underneath it.

Obviously, the ranch is out of business, or at least the owner let the place go down the drain.

But I wasn't here for the nice view.

Bending down, scorch marks and small trenches dug deeply into the ground and fence had confirmed my suspicions.

I wasn't world champion of Beyblading for nothing and it was obvious that those were Beyblade tracks.


Either way, I was inquiring about the little bed and breakfast that Bill and his wife owned just a few kilometres down the road.

He must have stayed there, or slept under the stars…

I wipe away more sweat. A few kilometres in the countryside with nothing but grass that comes up to your chest and it isn't easy walking. I have no idea how old Bill made the trek with me and didn't even manage to look tired.

But I know how he did it. If I'm on the right track, that is.

"That'd be great!" I smile widely.

I'm closer. I can feel the excitement coursing through my veins and the hike back to the little inn doesn't seem as gruelling with another piece of the puzzle so close to being in my hand.

We make it into the cozy home a little under an hour and I let out a happy sigh. I wish that I could stay and just relax for a bit but I know I have to keep on moving.

Because he moves quickly.

Bill pulls out a thick leather-bound book that looks old and weathered – very much in character for the atmosphere this place creates.

I can barely contain my excitement as his aged hand passes me the just-as-old record book.

The last date was written a few days ago. That's much shorter than two weeks! My heart leaps with unsung joy and happiness.

And thrill. He's always been hard to get a hold of and I've gotten closer than anyone else, I think.

I shut the book and give it back the Bill, quickly pulling my backpack on.

"You're not going to leave now, are you? It's going to get dark soon…" Bill's wife, Cheryl, seems worried but I wave it off with an apologetic smile.

"Thank you so much for the help! But I've really got to get moving now that I know I'm on the right track."

Cheryl nods, her own frail hand coming up to her chest. "You're going to find him then?"


"I'm closer! He was here; you guys let him stay in that room on the right!" I shouted in excitement, pointing at the charmingly decorated blue room. "I just know that it won't be much longer."

Bill nods sagely, looking more his age now in the dim light of their friendly kitchen. "That was him then. Your fella."

I fight to control the blush I know that's rising to my cheeks. Shuffling my feet and averting my eyes in embarrassment, I grin anyway. It's hard to hold in this feeling.

This feeling of excitement, happiness, and something deeper all melted into one…


Just thinking about him sends shivers all over my body. I haven't found him yet, but I've been looking.

Bill's brow creases in confusion. "How will you know where to go now?"

I pause, weighing the question.

"I just know."

Actually, Dragoon helps me with that part. His link with other bit beasts allow him to give me vague directions. That's all I need. He leaves the rest in his tracks. I know him. He's going east now.

The old man nods in understanding. It's just a feeling.

"You best leave now then!" Cheryl's mousy brown hair bounces as she moves as quick as her old bones can carry her and reaches into the oven. She pulls out a foil-package of what can only be described as the most heavenly smelling cookies on earth. She presses it to my hands.

"I'm glad you're going to find that boy." Her voice adopts a concerned and yet wistful tone. "He looked so depressed when he came here… so quiet and he had the saddest look in his eyes… Like he'd lost something."

"I'll find him." My expression becomes determined. "Even if I have to search through the whole world to get to him, I will."

Bill chuckles. "Well, you've already come so far up. North America is a pretty big place."

Yes. The last place he's been is here – a little inn near an old ranch, Alberta, Canada.

"I'll find him."

This was my vow. It had been a vow I'd made exactly one month, three weeks, four days and – I glance at my watch - … uh, still not that fast with math.

But the point is he's the guy I've been searching high and low for what's seemed like forever.

Maybe that's how long it's really been.

I'm searching for Kai Hiwatari – the one who got away.