KK: it's been a long time since I visited the Beyblade fandom. :3 I sorta missed it. This fic is one hundred percent Vanilla Cherries' fault. I swear. She pointed a gun at me and forced me to write it. –hides- So it's safe to say that this fic also pretty much belongs to her. :p Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this!

Disclaimer: Beyblade and all of its characters do not and never will belong to me.


Red Sand
- chapter 1 -

"Excuse me?"

Even with his eyes closed, Kai knew from Tala's tone of voice that the said redhead was currently aghast and horrified at the mere thought of Spencer's suggestion. It amused him, to say the least. That is, until Spencer decided to be evil yet again and make another suggestion.

"Kai, why don't you go with him?"

Of course, Tala recognized Kai's earlier inner amusement at his horrifying predicament, and decided that if he was going to go down, he would take Kai with him. "That's right, Kai. You've been overworking yourself as well. Your skin will get wrinkly soon."

Kai opened his mouth to speak, to at least say something that would save him from utter humiliation, but Spencer (either he was evil incarnated or he just picked a really bad timing) immediately walked away, leaving a loudly said "I'll tell Boris that you've agreed then." behind.

Silence emanated from the room.

Kai glared. Tala smirked smugly. "I am not going to that hellhole alone, Kai."


"YES!"

Tyson's enthusiastic scream could be heard throughout the whole BBA building, and one would expect the workers in it to raise their heads in confusion. But yet, when dealing with Tyson Granger of the Bladebreakers, such loud expressions were pretty much expected, and thus, the workers did not even halt, and just continued with their work.

Just another paperwork-filled day.

It was a good thing Mr. Dickenson was a carefree man, or else he would have already died from a very high blood pressure with his teenage team. He laughed heartily at Tyson's outburst, his eyes giving off a lively glow. "That's right. I thought that it's going to be a while until the next tournament, so why don't we all take a break?"

Max cheered, running over to hug Tyson, before both of them jumped up and down with glee. "We're going to Italy! We're going to Italy! We're going to IIIII-TAAAAA-LEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

Ray shuddered. "I can't imagine Max in opera."

Mr. Dickenson laughed. "But I have some bad news. Kenny won't be able to join you in Italy."

Tyson froze. "CHIEF? WHY?"

Ray frowned. "He's getting ready for the entrance in that tech school in Kanto, remember?"

"Oohhh… Right."

"I feel bad not taking him along with us." Max puffed his cheeks.

Tyson grinned. "Let's make sure that we buy lots of souvenirs then! ITALY, HERE WE COME!"


After hours of being strapped on a chair on flying transportation suspended several miles into the atmosphere (except for Tyson, who couldn't just sit around and therefore spent the trip running away from those innocent-looking-but-in-fact-very-demented airplane ladies who were hell-bent on stapling him on a chair), they finally arrived in lo Stivale a.k.a Italy by dusk, all woozy and shaken up from the long ride.

Ray gestured to the tourist map in his hands. "Mr. Dickenson said we'll be staying in some resort in Sicily."

"Look!" Max pointed happily at a large sign being held by a guy far off in the distance that had the words BLADEBREAKERS on it in a bold, red text, and all the waiting fan girls around it.

Tyson grinned, "It's hard being famous."


When Tyson stepped off the limousine, his jaw dropped to the ground with a really loud thud that pretty much cracked the pavement. "KAI?"

Kai craned his head to the side, and the immediate twitching of his left eyebrow was unmistakable. "What are you doing here?"

Tyson huffed, "That's harsh, Kai! We should be asking you the same thing!"

"Ah!" Max grinned, pointing to the redhead looking very pissed nearby, "Tala!"

"It's such a coincidence that you guys are here!" Ray smiled.

Kai's lips thinned. "I bet my grandfather and Mr. Dickenson had something to do with this."

Somewhere in underground Russia, and in the highest floor of a building in Japan, both Voltaire and Mr. Dickenson sneezed respectively.


On the other side of Sicily, a pink-haired girl, accompanied by a black-haired boy walked into town, wearing big, relieved smiles on their faces. "Now, aren't you glad we took this vacation, Lee? Sicily's so beautiful!"

The boy replied with a roll of his eyes, but the slight twitching of his lips said otherwise. "Yes, yes, Mariah. I know."

Mariah grinned, already walking ahead of her companion, looking at the bustling city streets. "All we need to do now is find the resort, unpack, and relax."

Lee smiled at her obvious joy. "Well, let's get going then."


She came to this resort, expecting for her mind to be filled with nothing but thoughts of relaxation and paperwork-free days. She expected to be sitting under the sun, working on her tan, looking at hot surfers, eating ice cream, then sipping red wine while looking at the beach from the balcony of her room while the wind wisped softly by under the moonlight.

Right now, there were no red wine, no soft wind, and thick clouds shrouded the moon.

Her thoughts had nothing that spoke of relaxation and paperwork-filled days.

All she was thinking about now was to survive.

The terror at the bottom of her stomach rose to much greater heights as she realized that her pursuer was quickly closing the gap between them. She tried to run faster, faster than her legs could take her, just so that she could somehow live. She screamed for help, but found that her throat was clogged from tears.

She was going to die. She was going to die. Ohnoohnonononopleasepleasesomeonehelp. She was going to die. She was going to die.

"Help…" She sobbed, too tired to scream. She focused everything on her feet, but found herself unable to really focus with all the tears in her eyes. Her heart skipped a beat when she nearly tripped on a branch, but she regained her footing, noticing with great panic that she was losing speed due to exhaustion.

Her pursuer seemed to be used to running.

The rushed footsteps behind her hadn't slowed a bit and had in fact, she noted with alarm, actually seemed to be getting faster.

"No, please!" she cried, her body raking with sobs as she fell to the floor, too tired to run – too tired to live. Her pursuer stopped above her, a mere shadow in the night. She backed away, shaking. "Why… why are you doing this?"

Her pursuer's knife glinted as it was raised, and she slumped back in defeat, tears rolling down her face. "Why?"

The pursuer bowed his head slightly after, in respect, before walking away, leaving her dead corpse behind.


"Ms. Palmer didn't return to her room last night, Sir."

"What? Again? Oh no… These have been happening more and more."

"They found her… body in the forest."

"No… no, no… what has this resort become?"

- tbc -