A/N: Sorry for the alarm. Nothing new! I'd been editing and just split the last chapter as it had over 5000 words. 

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A young brunette hurriedly left the Metro Station as the last rays of the sun disappeared, walking as fast as her sore legs would carry her. Hillary was dressed in a blue satin set of plazo pants and a crop top. Her hair was slightly wet and in an updo. She wore small diamond-shaped Ruby stud-come-hanging earrings to match her usual diamond-shaped Ruby necklace.

She also felt fresher than she had felt in days, after sleeping in her own bed for nearly twelve hours. Not because she had been spending all her time at the hospital, but because her house had been attacked at three in the morning during the quarter-finals.

But she hadn't given herself to the attacker's whim then either. She had just taken permission from her mother, who was out of station, without stating any reason, to stay at the Granger's dojo for a weekend. Her mum had immediately agreed. After a day, her mum had met with an accident. So, she never had much time to get the glass panels and other furnitures repaired. To clean away the torn curtains and books. And since her mother was the Intensive Care Unit, she had been given permission to stay overnight at the hospital.

But she couldn't leave the house completely unprotected either, so she had reinforced the locks and had refitted all the broken glass over the house a day ago. And she had cleaned up the house, such that it looked as good as before, for the rest of the day, before collapsing into her bed, completely exhausted.

She was quite sure that the threats were all over, for The Beyblade World Championship was officially concluded five days ago with the Blade Breakers winning for the second time in a row. Moreover, all the threat calls, mails and stalking having abruptly stopped since then.

Even after that, she still flinched at every loud disturbance, still dreaded checking the mail box everyday in the morning, would automatically disconnect every unknown call she recieved and constantly kept turning back to check if someone was following her.

But what worried her the most was that she still hadn't been able to contact her father, because if she doesn't do it within the next four days, she would have no money to pay for the operation. And that was partially the reason why she was going to the studio, because if there ever was a time she could utilise her friends' financial aid, now was it.

And more over, a new friend of hers, Suzie Smith, a college student studying psychology and part-timer at St Luke's Hospital, had bullied her to speak to her friends about the threats, now that the championship was over. Hillary had chickened out at the last minute when she had come to the dojo two days ago. This was her second try and just as Suzie had warned her before, her situation had only turned more desperate.

She was sick of all this mess, wanted it to all to end as soon s possible, and to return back to her normal life. And most importantly, she could not handle it all alone anymore. She wanted a shoulder to lean on, to cry on, and she very much hoped that Tyson would be that shoulder. Hoped that the Blade Breakers would not abandon her in her hour of need, unlike the Blackmailer on phone, who repeatedly reminded her the opposite.

So, when she reached the reception only to find out that she had missed the show with a bare margin of four minutes, her confidence faltered. After repeatedly pleading with the two security guards stationed by set's soundproof doors, who in no uncertain terms told her that no-one was allowed to go inside after a show started, she took a seat in the visitors lobby, feeling dejected.

The entire universe as conspiring against her, she moodily thought. She wasn't necessarily unhappy about missing the show, she had just wanted to be with her teammates on such an important occasion, even if as an audience. Enjoy herself for some time, laugh without a worry, before breaking the news to them, to transform all their faces from relaxed and happy to shock, worry and anger, demanding why they hadn't been informed earlier.

Or they would just laugh in her face, telling her off, to deal with her own problems, of stopping to boss them around, of stopping to act as though she understood all about beyblading and bit-beasts, to stop acting as though she was a team member, a friend of the Blade Breakers, as their nightmare counterparts reminded her every time she closed her eyes. Tell her that she was worth nothing to them. That even if she dropped dead, they wouldn't notice the difference. She could not imagine anyone saying them though when she was conscious.

Not sweet Max and definitely not Ray, who didn't really agree but liked her perspective on a number of topics other than beyblade. Not Tyson who seemed to have made their arguments a daily pastime. Not even Kai, though they had had only a handful of interactions in the last few months. He had been the one who first realized the worth of a non-beyblader in the team, the only person who had never questioned her presence during their beyblade training, who hadn't even batted an eyelid when she worked out with them all.

He had gone as far as to book a flight ticket for her as a part of the team. Even Max and Ray were surprised at this, but hid it well. Tyson, who had made his surprise quite clear, complained about the extra expenditures to such an extent that she had declined to come with them, lying her mum wouldn't allow her to miss so many classes. Not that she would have accepted the offer in the first place, but Tyson didn't have to repeatedly rub salt to the wound.

And from what she could gather, Tyson had immediately regretted his words, never exactly implying her to not come, but the damage was done. Tyson should really grow a head to mouth filter, she offhandedly thought. Coming back to the point, Tyson wouldn't do it either, Hillary assured herself, this was related to her mother, whom Tyson deeply admired.

Hillary sighed softly, inwardly admitting that this confession business became harder and harder with every passing day.

Her gaze casually traveled around the furnished lobby, taking in the lighting and the showpieces. Not many people were present there, just two staff members changing one of the light bulb and anxiously talking about the arrangements, as the director of the show was overlooking the happenings of the finale himself.

That was when two women entered the lobby, and without glancing around, directly went over to the guards at the auditorium doors. The guards opened the doors just enough for them to slip through, without even waiting for an explanation.

All semblance of calmness Hillary pretended to have till then evaporated that instant. How the hell were those two women allowed to go inside when she wasn't? And the women had arrived when the show was halfway through, when she was just four minutes late?

She stomped her way to the guards and started arguing with the guards loudly, to draw as much as attention as she could to this injustice.

"I was just four minutes late, and you didn't allow me, then how could you allow those two women to go when the show was already halfway through?" she angrily demanded.

"They were a part of the studio crew ma'am. It was highly important for them to go in. We were given prior notice of this." but Hillary could see that the two of them were nervous, so she continued her argument to such an extent that the two guards were ready to let her in too, just to shut her up.

But the director made his way to them at that moment, impatiently demanding what the problem was. Hillary told him of the situation, showing that she had a reserved VIP seat for today's show. The director continuously glared at the two guards before lighting up at mentioning the VIP seats. "Do you know one of our guests then, Miss...sorry, I didn't catch your name."

"Miss Tachibana sir. and yes, I'm a friend of Tyson.'' she said, because he really was the only link between her and the Blade Breakers.

"Do you beyblade?" he immediately asked. Hillary was fed up with this question. Every time she was seen with them in public, which wasn't often, this was the only question everyone seemed to have for her.

"I don't see how this matters. Beybladers can have a life outside the sport too. Now will I be allowed to go in or not?" she heatedly asked. And for some reason the director was smile only broadened at this, slightly resembling an all-knowing smile. He immediately called his assistant, checking with her for how long the show would go on, talking something along the lines capturing his expression of seeing her. She didn't bother herself too much about it, because she already knew the outcome of the call. The TV interview reception, which showed the live recording of the finale, showed that the host was concluding the show, requesting the guests to collect a few gift hampers.

The manager's face fell but before he could end his call, a loud bang erupted from the set, closely followed by three more bangs. Like the bangs of a shooting gun. The doors suddenly burst open, the audience poured out of the room screaming at the top of their lungs and stumbling over one another, even before the shooter competed his announcement, stating that anyone who wouldn't leave the studio in the next three minutes would be shot dead too."

It didn't take Hillary much time to grasp what the attacker might mean when he used the word too. Four shots, four bullets, four people, was all she could think of. She immediately tried to make her way into the set only to be pushed back by the panicked crowd.

Someone pulled her out of the mob, as she struggled in his grasp, shouting at him to let her go, only to realize that it was the manager, calmly telling her to leave the set telling as it was too dangerous to go in there. She had shouted at him that her friends were still inside, pleading him to help her find them. He had shouted at her that there wasn't anything she could do, and to better save herself before leaving with the panicked crowd himself. But Hillary didn't believe that. She knew she had to help them in any possible way.

The crowd had reduced by then, and it was then she realised that the two security guards had abandoned their jobs in the hour of crisis, the spineless crooks they were, and it wasn't just the audience, the entire crew of the show had left. Not a single one of them had stayed back to help the so called "guests".

The Blade Breakers, were once again, on their own.

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"As all good things come to an end, we are nearing the End of our Grand Finale. I would like to thank The World Champions of one of the most loved sport of the world for their presence here today and making this day a memorable one. Our Management Team would like all of our guests to take home a small token of gratitude for making this day possible."

Tyson nudged Max as the latter hadn't yet noticed that it was his turn to take the gift hampers. "Hey Max!, you're up next!"

"What? Oh..yeah." Max somehow found it very difficult to meet Tyson's eye at the moment. This concerns Tyson. "You okay buddy? You do look a bit pale...." He smiles to reassure him and went to take his hamper .

As Max tries to smile at the camera shaking off the thoughts in his head, he is suddenly tackled to the side. He falls off the stage and hit hits his head hard, making him feel dizzy for a second. The sound of a gunshot filled the air.

 Panic strikes across the studio, everyone is running around in panic, looking for exits. To Max, it passes in a blur, until he concentrates hard to ignore the pounding in his head and tries to find the center of the commotion.

Max vaguely registered Kenny and Hillary running towards the center of the stage and follows their lead. When did Hillary get here? Was she here the whole time? but before he could dwell on these mundane thoughts, they had we reached the center of the stage....and the scene he saw would haunt him for years from now.

Kai was curled up in a fetal position hugging his knees, his eyes squeezed shut in pain, as he tried getting his breathing in control. His face was contorted in pain as he struggled to remain conscious, at which he was failing miserably. Crimson liquid had already started pooling around his body....

The bullet had found a target after all.

The situation finally dawned on Max. He had been the actual target of the shot. Kai had tackled him to the side to save him. But he didn't turn out to be lucky enough...

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