Rukiabi: This is one of my first, well, okay, I guess it IS my first actual attempt at fan fiction. The only things I've been doing before were drabbles. Poor Itachi and other cast members of Naruto were mutilated by me… and I'm going to upload a Part 2 very soon? What more crazy zucchini adventures must I force Itachi to go through ?

Warnings: This fic WILL be a Shounen-ai fic in the future! …it just so happens that you got lucky here in the first chapter where I'm struggling just to introduce not even half of the characters of the whole story and to make it seem like there's actually a plot here. I'm not sarcastic or anything am I?

Stormyskys-chan! This is for youu! … I wish I could write fics like you can…. No… just watch me beat your Inuyasha fics mwahahahahaha! Mow o.-

Disclaimer: All characters of Beyblade are © of Aoki Takao.

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Ha ha ha…
Come on ------, I know you can do better than this...
You know…
.. I do love you…
.…...------ .

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Syndicate Ch.1: Mail
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Sweat slid down the side of a flushed cheek as the boy continued to pant.


It had been another dream.

The boy sat up in his bed and wiped off his sweat with his palms. After taking a deep breath, he got out of his bed and walked towards the bathroom.

Upon reaching the sink, the boy turned on the faucet and splashed his face with cold water, then looked up into the mirror at his reflection. A teenage boy about average height with tan coloured skin stared back at him. His mahogany coloured eyes strayed to the reflection of his messy, midnight blue hair framing his round face. The eyes closed in tiredness as the boy sighed.

Eighteen years old….

The boy made an about face and began dragging his weary body back to bed.

Eighteen years old and alone…

He sighed again as he fell down onto his twin-sized bed belly first and hugged the pillow to his chest.

"Life… doesn't go anywhere, does it?"

- - - - - - - - - -

A blond haired boy who looked about eighteen or nineteen years old walked through a set of electronic sliding doors.

"Good morning Mr. Mizuhara."

The blond boy turned his head and smiled at the receptionist.

"Good morning to you too!"

The blond continued past the lobby and into one of the elevators at the end of the room. A veteran hand pressed a button and the elevator began rising—but stopped halfway towards its destination.

"Oh no, oh no! Please wait!" cried a brown haired boy with a pair of round glasses atop his head as he entered the elevator just before the doors closed.

The blond smiled and made a small sweat drop at the new visitor in the small boxy room.

"Morning, Chief."

"Oh, Max," The Chief said between gasps of air, "it's you."

Said Max watched with an amused expression at his friend taking a giant inhale only to choke at inhaling too much air.

"There's," cough, cough, "too many elevators in this building!" The Chief made a sigh as he leaned against the elevator railing. "I pushed every single elevator button on that floor and it just had to be the one on the farthest end from me that opened."

The blond tilted his head at the mouse haired boy's rush.

"What are you in such a hurry for?"

"Well…" began the Chief as he adjusted his glasses, "I've discovered something, or rather, Dizzi discovered something and I have to show it to Director Dickenson right away."

"Wow. It must be really important to get you out of the office like this." responded Max.

"Hey! You say it like as if I don't ever leave my office room."

"Well… you don't come out a lot. You're always working, not that that's a bad thing." The blond smiled.

"Because none of you agents understand the meaning of intellectual work."

And right at that, the elevator pinged and the doors slid open for its occupants to take their leave.

"Ha ha, how can we Chief? None of us are as smart as you."

The Chief, who couldn't help but agree with Max, had nothing to respond back. Even though he was eighteen years old, he had always been a bit smarter than all of his peers. Well, a bit was an understatement. He had graduated from high school when he was thirteen and had graduated from University when he was only sixteen. The Chief, who wasn't even an adult yet had been given a job at the BBA and had been working there for about two years.

Both the brunette and the blond walked down the carpeted hallway on their right side from exiting the elevator until they reached a set of doors that were about the same size as the rest of the doors in the hall except that their frames were shaped differently, curving inwards so that the outside corners of the doors were sharper than 90 degrees.

The Chief quickly knocked on the door and began fidgeting with his tie until what sounded like a clearing of the throat could be heard from behind the pair of doors and a "Yes, who is it?" was asked.

"It's Kenny, sir." The Chief replied.

A sound of shuffling papers could be heard before a "Come in." was issued from the boss. Kenny opened the doors and walked into the office room, followed by Max who turned and closed the doors behind him.

"I have something important to show you Mr. Dickenson, sir."

Dickenson nodded at The Chief before he turned his attention to the blond beside him.

"And you as well Mr. Mizuhara?"

"Oh no," Max smiled and raised his hands in front of him." I was just following. I don't have any important business other than to state that I've successfully completed my mission."

Dickenson made another nod and said in almost a whisper, "Well done Agent Chimera.", before turning back to Kenny. "What is it that you wanted to show me?"

The Chief took a step forward.

"It's as I've said, something that's important and that I believe will interest you. This person."

He opened a folder that he had been carrying with him which contained several sheets of printed reports and a photograph of a person.

"I had Dizzi searching through the database of witnesses from past cases. Remember the last case with the bit beast in the book?"

"Oh yeah," exclaimed Max, "Rei had that case didn't he?"

"Yes, but the thing is, during that case, one of the witnesses that happened to be in the bookstore at the time of the beast's release was a potential Senpaku."

Both listeners stared intently at The Chief.

"So you would like for us to recruit this young man." said Dickenson, although it sounded more like a question.

"Uh maybe, err, yes, but that's not the main reason why I came here. Just look at him! Who does he remind you of?"

The two persons looked more closely at the photo on the desk.

"Ah! That's----!"

- - - - - - - - - -

The morning that he had spent trudging out of bed had felt like hours. Once he had finally gotten a grip upon some wakeful enzymes, he had turned to the hallway first thing leading towards the kitchen. Setting down his coffee, Tyson gave out a sigh. He had never been a lover of coffee; actually, he disliked it, always preferring green tea over the diluted murky brown of machine grinded beans.

But at times like this, it sure did the trick!

Tyson stared down at his instant powered coffee drink, completely mixed and swirling in a whirlpool of warm water and milk. Sometimes, sitting like this got him thinking, thinking about his past, about his pains. Most times, he would just trudge back into his usual routine of the day.

After drinking some coffee, usually in the mornings after a nightmare, Tyson would go into the bathroom, brush his teeth, take a quick shower, and get dressed in some casual clothing – usually consisting of a navy blue and light blue striped dress shirt without sleeves and buttons undone over a bright yellow T-shirt and a pair of tight blue jeans. He would eat a piece of toast smeared with blueberry jam and then exit his small apartment room that was four stories high from the ground. He worked at a small bookstore in the middle of 14th street and would head there every weekdays afternoon after buying a small pastry from the bakers across the street to be eaten as his lunch. And then in the evening, after shelving at least sixty newly ordered books and saying 'Arigatou-gozaimasu! Come again, onegai-shimasu!' forty-seven times to the customers (and browsers alike), he would head home to welcome a small pot of Mac and Cheese for dinner with his stomach.

But this morning was different. Sure enough, he had brushed his teeth and washed his hair with Rainforest Fresh shampoo, but when he got to his door, Tyson was surprised to find a beige coloured envelope lying on his autumn coloured doormat. From the looks of it, it seemed to have been slid under the door some time between last night and that very morning when he wasn't looking. Most probably, the person responsible for delivering it had come while he had been asleep.

He never got mail. No, not even the promotional ads asking him to buy strange and useless products. This was the first time so who…? Tyson walked up to the anonymously sent letter and picked it up. He wasn't even sure if it was a letter. As he stood there with his index finger and thumb ready to pull back the envelope flap, he thought: What if it was a bomb? But who would want to kill him? Well… He pinched his eyes shut, attempting to cut off the stream of memories of his past.

Shaking his head, he tried to convince himself that it was probably a mistake and that he wasn't the real person who was supposed to receive it, even as his hands somehow worked on their own accord, successfully opening the envelope and unfolding the sheet of paper inside. His eyes scanned over the wide piece of compressed wood pulp which surprisingly didn't have much to say. But the meaning of the context was overloading.

Dear Kinomiya Tyson-san,

Do you wish for a change in your life?

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Rukiabi: And the audience screams out in agony. NANDE? Why did you make the first chapter so boring ? Mr. Mizuhara? What the HELL is that? You should call him Mizuhara-san for good ole anime's sake! ……… well, I didn't want them to seem too japanesey I suppose. I wish I knew what Mr. Dickenson's name was in Japanese though… meh o.o--

Wow, this really pisses me off. I can't use stuff with shift anything anymore! I can't make underscores or anything! GRRR > ! It won't even let me make wide spaces ;.; whyy?

Oh yeah and by the way, this chapter is also dedicated to a real life friend of mine- RGAP-48, who is, or was, a Days Of Our Lives freak. Guess what RGAP-48? I finally did it! I know, I know, I said I would write a fic how many years ago? ….. um… well, I finally did it! And now just watch me become one of those people who never update ever and get flamers and stuff hahaha ! pounds the ground with her fists while laughing maniacally

Bai bai neee o. ?