Guess who? Yeah, that's right, I'm back. It's been a while and a break from fanfiction really got me going on that original series I was working on. But things happened in life and while I'm going through a block on that I decided to revisit one of my most recent Beyblade fics and decided to, yet again, rewrite them.

Except, this time, I have learned from my final year of high school and my writing became substantially better.

The regular disclaimer would go here... but this entire chapter is completely original, the only shred of its origin lie in the character himself. All events, or should I say most, that are described in this are completely my own. The only exception is the single mention of a certain character. If you've tracked my history and know of the first story I've uploaded (rewrote, scrapped, rewrote, and then altogether dropped) you'd know who that one character is and who she belongs to.

Also, it's good to read these bold sections (before and after the chapter) as I make important notes in them. Sometimes these notes can answer questions you might pose in your review, or mind, if you decide not to click that button. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. This is more like a prologue, a simple introduction...

Of a world of my own imaginings...

Lights, cameras, people screaming out his name. At first it was out of adoration, but he didn't care for it. Yet deep down he knew that it made him feel good, it gave him a sense of purpose. For once he had a reason to keep going.

But then things started to change. It wasn't just him anymore, it was a team. He was in charge of an amateur buffoon that had a surprising talent for the game, an American with a way too chipper nature, and a non-human Chinese that placed more attention on his looks than the game. Yet he strove to persevere, no matter what it took.

It all began to change again, but this time for the worse. He didn't win, he didn't become number one. He had to admit, the buffoon was good—hell, even deserving. But why did it bother him so? Why was it that he had to keep on going? What was it that he wanted to prove?

His life began to plummet, he became obsessed. He knew then that he never wanted to admit it, but the facts were right there. His teammates, friends—they were concerned for him. But more and more he became obsessed, until he started seeking power.

He saw the events of his life, all leading to that moment—the very moment that changed his life. He wondered, did he deserve what he had now? He walked down the hall of memories, all the images swirling around him like a vortex—a tunnel of sorts. He looked around; they were all a mix of the good and the bad, the past and the present.

Look at you now, said a cynical voice. A mirror appeared to one side and he saw himself. Black hair with red highlights, which was natural the last time he checked. Then again he'd been playing with hair dye for a while it was hard to keep track. The blue lock of hair was real... but wait, no it was a clip on extension. He lifted it up—yeah, he would have ditched it after ditching the blue dye for his bangs, but after the hair for his sideburns fell off in favour of his clan marking he used it to cover it up. His face was of an ovular shape, but with a defined chin. His nose was sharp and his eye colour was an unnatural amethyst. He blinked and they became a red, which satisfied him. The amethyst tied him to the demon blood stemming from his mother's side. But that didn't matter to him, not by a long shot. It was only his sister who really got anything out of that. He was different, and the red showed it. It was just the red either; it was the unique markings right on his cheek bones. It was these traits that told him now of who he was.

"Wha—?" he jumped in surprised. Before his eyes his reflection changed dramatically. His eyes were sunken in, his skin had a grey tinge to it. He had a suspicion which was confirmed the moment he pulled off his shirt. When he looked down he saw the well formed abdominal muscles and pecks from a good hard workout. Yet in the mirror he looked famished, tired, and completely unhealthy. It was hard to tell, but he was younger in the reflection too. This was him in the past, when he was absorbed by the world of perfection and power.

"What is this?" he said, his voice echoing throughout the now blank tunnel. The swirling images were gone. It was just him, him and the cynical voice.

It was actually his reflection.

So popular, so loved, his reflection said darkly. It stared at him with a loathsome glare, a malicious smile aching to curl into a laugh and mock him.

"What are you doing?" he asked. At the corner of his eye he saw a glow of light far down along the tunnel. It was the only source of light and he realized late that the tunnel went from blank to black. Without that light he wouldn't be able to see, and that scared him. He tried to walk towards the golden glow but his reflection grabbed his hand.

You're not going anywhere, hero, it said. He looked, horrified, at the cold ethereal hand clasped around his wrist.

"Let me go!" he begged.

Are you running from your past again?

"N-no! I'm trying to run to it! You don't understand, that light will tell me who I am! It'll tell me everything I need to know!"

No, it's an escape. The reflection reached out with its other hand and traced out the markings on his face. Such a feathery texture, it said. You were... so overjoyed when you found out. You were different, special. Not like the rest of them.

"I was happy to have found out who I really am," he said defiantly, trying to pull away at the discomfort.

No, you were happy to have found an escape. Look over there, the reflection pointed to his left and there stood the ghostly image of his twin sister.

"Raine," he muttered. The ghost moved its mouth, calling out to him, smiling. Tears rolled down its face and it slowly faded away. And then, to his horror, his hand was stretched out and was grasping the handle of a knife. The ghost's hands were around his, the blade of the knife deep within its bosom. He looked into the face of the ghost, the face of his sister. He was shaking all over, tears flowing down his eyes.

See that. You've been running away from that, even if she has forgiven you, said his reflection. He quivered violently, finally mustering the strength to push away his sister's ghost and to pull himself free from his reflection's grasp. He ran toward the light, toward his shining grace.

You're still running. Stop trying to forget your past! Stop trying to forget who you are!

"No! That's not true!" he cried. He'd resolved all his issues throughout the years since he reformed. He wasn't that old reflection, that version of him was long dead. He looked into the light and saw a woman's smiling face beaming down on him. She reached out a hand, calling for him. He said something back to her, calling her. He saw two young boys at both her sides, grinning at him. Behind them all was a proud man who carried a radiant aura. He nearly reached the light, but then it dissolved. He cried in despair, he was so close. He almost remembered. But then a new light started to glow in front of him and it was the smile of a young woman with chocolate brown hair.

"Serenity..." he whispered.

You'd hate it, wouldn't you? The voice called out to him. He gasped, unaware that it caught up to him. It was more of a shadow now with a cynical smile. The shadow stroked the projection of Serenity's face, and more of her body appeared, naked. Her pregnant body hovered before him, and his shadow reached out with its clawed hand towards his and Serenity's unborn child.

"No, stop..." he muttered. He was paralyzed, trapped. The shadow reached over him and was nearing the image of his beloved.

You're going to mess up again, and you know it. The shadowed hand tore at her and the image of Serenity screamed, her voiced mixed in with the cries of an anguished baby. He screamed and screamed, calling for the nightmare to stop. And then, amidst the horror, Serenity called out to him.

"Kousei," she said.

"Ah!"

It was dark in the room, but the light of the ever lively Shibuya's lights shone into the room. Realizing that it was merely a nightmare reflecting his fears, Kousei looked to his right to a concerned Serenity, her hand on her pregnant stomach.

"Are you okay?" she asked. She placed her head on his shoulder to try and calm him, her pregnancy limiting her movement. Kousei placed his hand on top of hers and took a deep breath. He felt like crying, but he didn't want to show weakness.

"Eight months," he said. "Pops said that Phoenixians are born after eight months."

"Yes, but I'm human," reminded Serenity. "It could be halfway through the ninth for all we know."

"Yeah, but I promise you that I'll be by your side every step of the way," said Kousei. He kissed her on the forehead and closed his eyes. Serenity laughed.

"That's going to be hard, don't you think?"

"Yeah," answered Kousei immediately, opening his eyes again. He was too scared to sleep. "And I'm sorry if I have to bail."

"Just promise me that you won't leave me to raise the kid by myself," said Serenity sternly. Kousei hugged her and kissed her vigorously.

"I love you, don't I?"

"I love you too..." They embraced and Kousei was able to calmly drift back to sleep.

Two worlds existing side by side, practically merging and only supported by a middle-world unseen to all. Coexisting, its inhabitants carry on with their lives as they see fit. One world is of modern reality, with the people only adjusting to the mythical factor that has surrounded their world for over fifty years. In the height of their newfound powers they embrace the existence of their other-world cousins, who are more gifted with the natural powers the two worlds granted. Together they lived in harmony; working together to live efficient lives in peace while respecting the space they need.

A certain group of individuals, after trials set by a horrific prophecy, work hard to maintain the balance returned to the universe. They have many set responsibilities, one such individual preparing to rule an entire four nations. Another readies herself in hunts for criminals in the event her abilities were needed in another world—whether or not it was against her will. And a hero who desperately tries to recall a lost past makes amends to his mistakes by channelling most of his wanted time and attention to a family he couldn't live in the world without.

With their friends they work to ensure the safety of their world and many others while trying to live their own lives as they see fit. Even with hardships haunting their pasts and awaiting in their future, they persevere through the odds to pave a way to a better world.

~When Two Worlds Collide~

It's a quicky, but it was attached to the first chapter, which already reached 9 pages. I also learned that unless you want to bore your readers keep the chapters as short as possible. When you know a chapter is good, fast-paced, filled with important and quirky dialogue, and a great hook for readers make it as long as you like. But usually, that only happens when you reach the ending. ;)

As I've stated earlier this whole chapter is a prologue of sorts, your basic introduction. It introduces my world and characters that play an essential role in the plot. Should have mentioned it earlier, but this fic can get pretty OC-centric because right now my mind sees that the conflict lies in Kousei.