Disclaimer: Beyblade belongs to the awesometastic Aoki Takao
DATE: 5th January
LOCATION: Unknown
Dust motes swirled in the bright afternoon light that spilled in through the bay windows of a large study. Glossy mahogany shelves, filled with various leather-bound books and folders, lined the walls while a matching desk sat at one end of the room. The lone occupant of the room, a middle-aged man with graying black hair was standing by this desk, studying a large map tacked to the wall behind it. Eight push pins were stuck at various parts of the map, marking the locations where the qualifying rounds for that year's Beyblade World Championships were held. Another set of pins held up pictures of the winning team of each qualifier.
The man studied each photo, sneering at the triumphant faces of the teens. He paused at the one tacked to Japan, his sneer becoming more pronounced as he stared at the grinning face of the three time world champion, Tyson Kinomiya who was holding up his beyblade to the photographer, its bitchip gleaming as the camera flashed. The poor boy didn't know how powerful his bitbeast, or any other bitbeast for that matter, really was. None of the teens knew. If they did, they wouldn't have wasted the spirits' powers on such childish games.
That was the price of ignorance, he thought, shaking his head. But no matter, the bitbeasts powers will not be put to waste any longer once they fell into his hands. His plan to obtain them was already in motion and speaking of plans, he had to check up on one of his subordinates.
He dialled the phone, long fingers drumming the surface of the desk as the line connected.
"Hey boss," a voice greeted him airily.
"Mission status?"
The boy tch-ed irritably. "What do you think? It was successful, obviously."
The man chuckled at the sulky tone, unbothered by the lack of respect. The boy was…ah, volatile at best. Treating him with hostility would just cause him to blow up. "Good, good. I knew you were the best person for this job, Rook."
"Mmhmm," Rook responded, sounding less irritated and the man knew his compliment had placated the boy. So easy, he thought, smiling, looking rather snake-like as he fiddled with the gold cufflink on his sleeve.
"Bring that Dickenson here asap. I need his…ah, assistance to write a letter."
Rook chuckled darkly at his choice of words. "Sure thing, boss! Just leave it all to me," he said before cutting the line. The man returned the phone to its cradle, absently adjusting the cuffs of his charcoal suit in satisfaction.
Phase II: complete.
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DATE: 12th January
LOCATION: Bakuten, Japan
"Hey T-man, a letter arrived for you," Ryu Kinomiya told his grandson as he walked through the back door into the kitchen, a stack of envelopes in his hand. He held the top one out to his grandson who was busy shovelling breakfast into his mouth. "It's from the BBA," he added when the boy didn't respond as he heaped more scrambled egg on his plate.
Ryu smirked when his eyes bulged, only to recoil when Tyson exclaimed.
"Gimfheetumeh!" Tyson said, spraying scrambled eggs to all over the place as he leaned across the table to snatch the envelope out of his hands. Ryu shook his head in disgust as he watched the younger Kinomiya rip the letter open, not caring about bits of egg and spittle sticking to his mouth and cheeks.
"Dear BBA Revolution," he began. "Having made through the qualifying rounds last month-"
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LOCATION: White Tiger Hills, China
"-and thus making it into the World Championships," Mariah read, a similar piece of paper in hand, her pink hair ribbon swaying gently in the breeze. She was sitting on the grass under a large tree while the rest of the White Tigers were scattered around her, listening intently.
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LOCATION: Moscow, Russia
"Your team have been invited for a compulsory one week cruise with the rest of the participating beybladers-," Tala muttered, making a face at 'compulsory'. Similar looks were reflected on the other of the Blitzkrieg Boys' faces.
One week with the rest of the bladers? Ugh.
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LOCATION: New York, USA
"The ship will be picking you up at Tokyo Harbour on the 1st of February," Emily announced to her team. She shot the boys irritated looks when they didn't respond, too absorbed in their video game.
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LOCATION: Athens, Greece
"The aim of this trip is to strengthen the friendship bonds between the beybladers-,"
Garland read. Brooklyn, who was standing in the balcony with a sparrow perched on his finger, smiled at this.
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LOCATION: Valais, Switzerland
"-and also for the emerging teams to make their debut," an unfamiliar blond girl read, looking up to smile at her teammates- all girls. She was the only normal looking one in the group. One girl had a multi-coloured fringe, one a goth and the last one looked like someone out of the Arabian Nights.
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LOCATION: Madrid, Spain
"It is an all-expenses paid trip and please send the forms attached as soon as possible." Julia watched as Raul upended the envelope, causing stack of papers to fall out.
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LOCATION: Bucharest, Romania
"We look forward to hear from you soon. Regards, Stanley Dickenson, BBA Chairman," another unfamiliar person, a guy with black hair finished, flashing a smirk at his team members; two girls and a boy.
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DATE: 18th January
LOCATION: Unknown
Somewhere in the world, an old man lay on narrow bed, curled into a foetal position. He had the appearance of someone who had lost a lot of weight in a short amount of time, and his usually rosy visage now held an unhealthy gray pallor. Angry red welts covered his body. His arms were wrapped around the middle, trying to alleviate the ache that his empty stomach was feeling. He moaned deliriously as he saw people who weren't there, their voices echoing around him.
"Stanley, Stanley, Stanley. I wonder, how does it feel, to be the one who sent thirty lives to their watery graves?" taunted the dark-haired man with the snake-like grin.
Stanley Dickenson shuddered as a wave of unbearable guilt and self-hatred swept through him. Fat tears leaked out of his eyes and dripped to the mattress Those poor teenagers…
"I'm so sorry," he rasped, his lips cracking. "I didn't want to do it but they made me, oh," he began to sob, rocking back and forth, "Please, please forgive me…"
AN: Here it is, a rewrite for Stab My Back. I had the most horrible writer's block which finally went away. Phew. Thanks for reading and please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts!