Hey there. This is a fic which starts off from the qualifying rounds in season 1. It's a completely rewritten version of the first season, with, for a little twist, some of the 3rd season characters. Needless to say, this fiction totally disregards many of the actual events that take place in the series in both seasons. However we will try our best not to alter the characters' personalities, we'll try to merge the personalities from the 1st and 3rd seasons as well as we can.
It has everything to do with each of the 'Breaker's past, how they go from complete strangers to the best of friends; Kai-centric.
All the characters' appearance and attire are from the third season except for a few, who are from the first season. They include the characters who only appear in the 1st season, the Demolition Boys (reminder: Demolition Boys does not include Kai, Blitzkrieg Boys does/did), Mr. Dickenson, Tyson and Kenny who appear as they are in the first season.
The blades and Bitbeasts are as in the 3rd season, all of them. However, some slight modifications might have been made in order to identify which belongs to whom.
The attacks are a combination of all three seasons, and some are made up as well (we love making up attacks; it's finding a name for them that's hard).
If there's anything we forgot to put in here, we'll let you know when we remember.
That was a long authors' note. Congrats on surviving it. Hope it didn't bore you so much that you stopped reading.
Please review.
This is posted by one name but it was written by two authors. Please direct your reviews to both authors.
Enjoy!
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Title: Shadows of the Past, Memories for the Future
Authoresses: foxfire flamequeen and phoenixfire thundertiger
Rating: T/pg13
Categories: Angst/Fantasy/Action/Adventure/Romance
Summary: Four different teens from all over the world, united by their love for Beyblading, each with their own story. One choice leads to another and in the end, it's not about right or wrong, but their own decision. One's life can only be what destiny determines, but the destiny is chosen by him alone. These four boys have yet to discover that life is nothing like what it appears to be.
Disclaimer: Although we'd love to, we don't own Beyblade. We merely own the plot and any character you don't recognize (for those who haven't watched season 3 that might be a lot, so this goes for people who have watched both seasons). Also, we don't own MOST of the deep words and small poems which will frequently be used, or the song lyrics. Non-profitable fic, written merely for entertainment of readers and authoresses.
Warning: Spoilers for both seasons will be present, however, not in the appropriate places, so unless you have the whole thing memorized you shouldn't have a problem.
Prologue
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………You're not fooling anyone
You're not even fooling you………
Lying back on the grassy slope, I watch the sky. A lone eagle circles overhead, silhouetted black against bright blue, now and then dipping out of sight behind white clouds. A single screech tears through the silence.
It flies alone.
Like me.
But it's used to it.
Again, like me.
Keeping good distance from it, a flock of pigeons fly by, the flutter of wings disturbing the calm. I am strangely captivated by that. The pigeons fascinate me more than the eagle. I wonder. Alone is incomprehensible to them. They are always together.
'Lone eagle', the term is used frequently. Does anyone say 'lone pigeon'?
The eagle likes it alone.
So do I.
I have no friends, none I can honestly call family. My team is afraid of me. Not that I care. I'd stopped caring long ago.
The pigeons are afraid of the eagle. It doesn't care.
Deep down, though, I feel it. Something missing. I feel as though I am not living.
Why? I breathe, I think. Is that not enough to show that I live? Yet I feel incomplete.
What is the unknown thing omitted from my life? What is the emptiness in my heart?
Another screech stops me from pondering what I have gone over innumerable times, never receiving an answer. I silently ask the eagle my question. It does not answer. If anyone had asked me, I wouldn't have answered.
The eagle is so much like me.
Only, it doesn't feel it. The void in the heart. The bird doesn't have that. It doesn't need to wonder.
I push it away. I don't need anyone or anything. I learned to rely on myself alone.
I looked far and now I see
That the only one I needed was me
All I need is myself.
My own voice mocks in my head: How cold is the sun?
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I stood near the playground. Cries of joy, laughter was everywhere.
Watching people live their lives, all I could do was feel sorry for myself. Pathetic, I know. I couldn't help it. I was jealous.
They were so happy. That kid running around in circles, screaming his head off for no reason. That girl quietly reading, sitting on the swings. Carefree and frankly, careless. I'd been like that just a few months ago. Before the weight had been pressed down on my shoulders.
Who to choose?
I had a family and friends. Where did all that go? Then again, it was my fault too. Since they started fighting, I enclosed myself in a shell, like a turtle. One by one, my friends left. I didn't care. I didn't even notice.
And, seeing I didn't care, they stopped caring too. They went on, until it became too much for any of us to handle.
After that, it was up to me. To choose between the two. To hurt one or the other.
I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could change all that happened.
But that isn't possible.
Should I accept it? Or should I try to get things back to normal? Back to what they were.
I can't afford to show them how much it hurts. I'll just hurt them even more. It's not right. Not after everything I caused.
Yes, I caused it.
I still don't want to accept it.
Everything is fine… isn't it?
Sure it is. Everything is as fine…
As the ocean is dry . . .
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I'm no philosopher.
But I do know, everything is not perfect.
Like my life.
Yeah, you got it, I'm a typical teen with a messed-up life where no one cares and all you get for breakfast is a piece of dry bread and cold water.
I think I exaggerated a bit.
Okay fine.
There are people who care about me, I do have friends, and dude, I get a lot to eat. Not only does eating provide enjoyment and distraction from my rickety thoughts, but it also provides, as my dad puts it, 'disgusting entertainment' for the audience.
My mind, on the other hand, really is pretty messed up.
They say she died. I've been hearing that since I was old enough to understand.
If that was true, what's with the hard eyes when they say it?
Don't get me wrong, I stink at detective work too.
All the same, I don't believe it. The story's more rickety than my great-gramps would've been had he been alive now.
Yet somewhere far, far away, in the depths of my mind (if it has any), I know they're alive. Both of them.
Yeah, they say he's dead too. Not my great-gramps, mind you. I know he's dead, I've even been to his funeral.
There were never any funerals held for them.
Fine, I admit it, the story's not rickety. It's very solid. Too solid. That's probably why I pretend to believe they're dead too. I pretend even to myself.
One thing I know for sure, they're gone.
And they're not coming back.
Maybe they are dead.
How true is a lie?
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They say life is no roller coaster ride. Really?
There are ups and downs, twists and turns, spirals and loops.
Life has hills and valleys, mountains and plains, rivers and oceans. Just like the world.
Then again, without all those, it wouldn't be life, would it?
I wanted all that. I wanted those arches; I wanted to know the world. I wanted more than mountains all around, a little secluded village.
I craved life.
That is why I left it all behind.
Thinking back, had I left behind that much? I'd left people who never really cared, friends who never respected my own decisions, my choices.
So I made the greatest choice, hoping I would never have to regret it.
I never had much of anything, I was an orphan. It wasn't difficult to let go of something that didn't exist. Yes, I missed them. But I needed more, and that was the truth.
Everyday, storms rise and fall. Tsunamis occur, breaking down dreams. Fires burn through hopes.
Now and then, though, lighting flashes. A split second lighting up the path to move on. New life begins everyday, as people let go and start over.
I let go.
I left, wanting to know more, wanting to see more. Wanting to live.
And maybe, also hoping to find something. Something I never had. Maybe I hoped to discover something pure. Something true.
Still . . .
We can't gain anything without giving something in return. In order to gain a new life, I sacrificed my old one. I sacrificed the person most precious to me.
I'm not as strong as I make out. I had hesitated. As I had walked away, I'd glanced back. I'd allowed a thought to flicker in my mind, not pushing it away.
I'll come back for you.
I won't try to deny it. I will go back the first chance I get. I'll go back for her, to her. I need her. She is the one thing I cannot let go, no matter how much I try.
What's the point of trying to deny what I know in my heart is true?
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In a dark cell in the snowy depths of Russia, lay four tormented teenagers and a man with a whip. His eyes glinted from beneath the purple hair shadowing his long snake-like face.
"Why are you doing this to us?" A weak voice from a light blonde with cerulean eyes broke the silence, followed by the crack of a whip and a strangled cry of pain.
"Miguel!" the smallest and obviously youngest of the group, a girl with short pink hair and eyes, squealed. Her thin voice was hoarse; she spoke through cracked and bleeding lips. "Don't make him mad."
"The girl is right. You do not want to anger your master now do you?" the sinister voice of the man gave the teens chills. "I'm sure you've all learned by now: disobedience earns punishment."
Miguel sighed in defeat from his position on the cold floor. He couldn't fight the one who had the whip, not alone anyway. A pale hand was offered to him, he looked up at the concerned face of his friend. Pasty green hair clung to the other boy's skull, eyes silently begging Miguel to obey their torturer.
"Thanks Claude," Miguel took the hand and was pulled up, the other nearly falling over in his attempt to help. Another boy, an African-American, quickly leaned in to support both. He was comparatively in better condition than the others. Dark hands gently slung Miguel's arm over his shoulder, while the girl moved in to hold Claude.
They were all starving. Their training left them frail and weak. But there was nothing they could do against this place.
"Good. Now we can get on with the surprise welcome I'm planning for the Lord's… family," he cracked the whip one last time on all the teens and left them on the cold floor.
Against this place. This place: the abbey.
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Far away in Japan, the blonde boy took a sip from the can in his hand. Sea blue eyes seemed to reflect his thoughts. Though his thoughts were serious, his eyes were not, and a cheerful smile tugged at his mouth.
Winning the C bracket wasn't that hard. But I can't celebrate till I've gotten past Kai. He's the real competition here. I wonder how Tyson's doing. Maybe I'll go over and see.
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"There's a charity event in Russia before the World Championship finals ensue. Think you can make it Ming-Ming?"
"I'll be there. After all, I can't disappoint my fans now can I?"
"Great! We'll get everything prepared and fly you out a couple of days before the event." The line on the other side went out.
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"I promise I'll get that Kai for you. He won't even last a second in the dish with me and Dragoon," an over-confident teen boasted, fixing his red and blue cap backwards over navy hair tied back in a low ponytail.
"Don't get too cocky Tyson. You still have to win against Carlos if you want to battle Kai," replied a short boy wearing large bulging glasses, the brown fringe hiding his eyes. His fingers rapidly moved over the keys of the laptop carefully placed on his knees.
"Relax Kenny. I beat him last time didn't I?"
That put a small smile on the upset boy's face, "No Tyson, he pulled out before the match ended, remember?"
"Which proves he's scared of me! And that equals he knows I can beat him!"
A female voice floated out of the laptop.
"Tyson did you pass your math exam?"
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Carlos's POV
It's time for me to prove to the world that I deserve the title of World Champion.
Flashback
"Looks like I win. Remember our little deal. You have to return all those blades you took to their original owners."
I lost. How could I have lost?
A blue blade whizzed past, barely avoiding Carlos's ear. He immediately recognized it. Oh no. Did he see Tyson beat me? Fearfully he turned to meet the fiery eyes of his captain, only to receive an ominous glare.
Carlos dropped to his knees as his captain spoke. The blue hair at the back was being bathed red in the light of the setting sun. Twin ends of a white scarf flapped in the gentle breeze, at the same time rustling the slate bangs.
One word, spoken monotonously, holding nothing but disgust:
"Pathetic."
End Flashback
I've endured enough humiliation Kai. Now it's your turn.
End of Carlos's POV
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"You will train with us here at BIOVOLT to be amongst the best bladers in the world, and occasionally run errands for the Corporation. In return I will provide financial support for your sister's treatment. Do we have a deal?" asked a voice so cold and rough it sent shivers down one's spine.
"Yes sir!" I will do anything for you Monica. Hang in there a bit longer.
"Good. Your first task is to find a blader named Brooklyn and manipulate him into participating in a charity event which will take place right before the Russian Tournament," said the owner of the voice, back turned to the teen standing at full attention. "That is all. Leave at once and begin your search."
"But sir –"
"No buts if you want the best for your sister."
"Yes sir."
If Monica can fight a disease which is draining her inside out, then finding a blader on my part shouldn't be hard. But how do I find someone when I don't know where or what to look for?
The purple haired man had left the room, leaving the boy to dwell on his thoughts and answer his own questions.
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"Look I appreciate the offer Mr. Dickenson but I already told you, I'm not interested," a teen with jet-black hair stated to an old man as the latter froze with a remote the image on the TV.
"Wait Ray, just listen to me," pleaded the man. He nervously pulled at his white moustache and continued. "As I said before, I've selected these three bladers; they will compete in the regional tournament in Japan. I would like to form a team out of you four to represent the BBA in the upcoming World Championships. I am certain you all have the skills to qualify. Are you sure you are still not interested?"
"The World Championships?" shining gold eyes betrayed the boy's interest.
"Yes. You will still be traveling. Just not on your own."
"I don't know Mr. D. Can you guarantee their capabilities at least?"
Mr. Dickenson's smile widened. "That I can, Ray. Give it a try."
"…Alright." What the heck. "But I want to test them myself first."
"You may take part in the tournament."
Ray glanced at the frozen screen. A blonde boy with cheerful sea blue eyes smiled back at him. His smile was forced; evidently he hadn't wanted this picture taken. Blue eyes were worried behind the cheery façade.
Beside him on split screen was a boy with navy hair holding out a thumbs up, round face grinning confidently. This was the one he doubted. His skills had yet to shine, but Mr. Dickenson regarded him highly.
Below Tyson was a blank place, which would be filled by his picture soon enough.
Under Max's picture, next to the blank box, was the photo which caught his attention almost immediately. The eyes were blank, but contained a fiery spirit, just waiting to be unleashed.
The image flashed something in Ray's mind.
These three boys all had some form of unknown power. After everything he had heard, Ray was sure of that much.
"We will leave tomorrow –" Mr. Dickenson interrupted his trail of thoughts.
"So soon? I don't have a ticket. And I have to consult –"
"I have made all necessary arrangements. You need not worry." The old man nodded at the teen as he left, still unsure of whether he had made the right decision.
Outside the office, Ray paused.
Made all necessary arrangements? He sounded like he knew I'd agree.
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"Welcome to the team," the teen offered a hand to the newcomer. The hand was wrapped in white bandages reaching the elbows, with only the fingers kept uncovered. The boy's dark mane was tied back to keep it out of the face, giving him the appearance of a lion. Catlike features were reflected on the face holding a grin, baring two fangs.
"Thanks," the other took the offered digits. On his wrist was a golden clamp. He then raised his hands to his face, taking off the golden mask. Merry azure eyes appeared and granted a friendly smile.
Suddenly the lion was tugged aside by what would at first glance look like a pink ball of fluff. The girl was clad entirely in pink, baby pink ribbon holding her pink hair in a high ponytail.
1 "Lee…" she spoke unsurely. "I don't know about this."
"We talked about this before," he sighed.
As the newcomer waited for the two, a small blue object zipped by, narrowly missing bumping into him. A while later, a huge figure ran up to him.
"Hey Mystel," he panted in a deep voice. "You see Kevin?"
"Sure," Mystel grinned amusedly. "I saw him, but I don't know where he is."
"Yes," the girl insisted. "Still, we all know Mystel's no where as good as he was. What if he decides to come back?"
"Who said we'll let him come back to the team?"
"But Lee…"
"He betrayed us Mariah. He abandoned everything that meant anything to him. You know who I'm talking about. I will not forgive him, ever."
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It was a nice serene day, one of many in the U.S. The team had decided to take the day off and enjoy the spring air. She didn't protest. There was no point in doing that. Once they had all agreed on doing something they were usually bent on doing it, even if it was something as small as taking the day off. It was for the best anyway, she wanted a relaxed atmosphere to introduce the burly teen following her through the hallways of the PPB.
"Well that's pretty much covers up all the parts of the facilities you will have access to, Rick," she led him outside.
"It doesn't matter what I have access to. I don't need all this useless technology," Rick snorted.
Judy Tate smiled fondly. He'll fit in just fine.
Outside Rick found another one of the several gyms he had seen in the facility except this one was outside and as a result was much larger. To his right he saw two girls, one with orange hair dressed in a lemon green t-shirt and forest-green skirt playing tennis with a girl, no doubt older than the first, sporting light blue hair with a tint of silver.
"Give it up Emily. You know you'll never win. See my whole family is full of champions. My elder brother is a champion racer. My younger brother sitting there is a world-class Beyblader," said the older girl indicating a younger boy with the same shade of hair sitting on the bench. "And I am a tennis champion. So you might as well pack it in."
"Never," Emily replied.
Rick shifted his gaze from them to the tall teen dressed in basketball gear, shooting hoops in a pretty large basketball court. Looking straight ahead he found two boys walking up to them. One had a baseball cap covering the dirty-blond hair dipping over one eye, the other geared as a football player.
"Listen up everyone. I would like you to meet the newest member of the All Starz," Judy Tate addressed them. In return she received four surprised and somewhat annoyed glances.
"Newest member?" they chorused.
"Yes, this is Rick. He will be competing as a member of the All Starz in the World Championships," she wore a satisfied smile.
"Why were we never consulted about this new teammate?" Emily asked, bewildered.
"A very simple reason really. You would never agree on bringing in someone new. So there wasn't much of a point," Director Judy calmly answered. "Now that Rick is here I don't want any questions or comments about it. I'll leave you all to get acquainted."
The Director leaving allowed all the teens to feel more comfortable, including Rick. Now they could fire anything at each other without being reprimanded.
Rick tuned scornful eyes on them. "So I have to be teamed up with you bunch of geeks. Well I guess it's better than what I had."
Flashback
"I can't believe Kai disappeared," Antonio sighed, exasperated. "Again."
"Who cares about him any way? It's not like he ever did anything for us," Carlos grunted.
"Yeah, except lead us to victory every single time," Antonio pointed out.
"Well guess what? It doesn't matter anymore 'cause I'm gonna claim the Championship title for the Blade Sharks this time," Carlos tossed back his head proudly.
"That is if you even have a team to win it for," the older teen lowered the stereo from his shoulder and used the heel of his shoe to stop the blaring music.
"What are you trying to say Rick?" asked Antonio.
"Last time I checked there weren't any tag teams allowed in the championships," Rick smirked.
"Well why would we be a tag team? We've got enough members in case you forgot how to count," another boy piped up from where he had been engrossed in picking his teeth with a twig.
"What makes you so sure I'm gonna stick around you pathetic wimps?" with that Rick picked up his stereo and walked off.
"What did you call us?" Antonio bellowed after him. The only response was the ear-splitting rock that was all Rick needed to shut away the world.
"Save your strength for the Beydish. You'll need it," Rick called back and disappeared around the corner. "Consider me competition from now, 'cause I'm outta this dump."
End Flashback
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"I hope you all have been training hard," a gruff tone spoke into the gym. It was then that the speaker was noticed by the four adolescents in the room.
"Lord Hiwatari," a redhead straightened after putting down the weights he'd been lifting, only to sink into a bow in front of the stout old man. Thin flaming bangs tilted back in place as he rose. Long lashes lifted to reveal cool ice-blue eyes. "Would you like us to welcome Kai?" the smooth voice was colder than the Arctic, the last word spoken with venom.
"No, not yet," the man nodded stiffly at the other boys, each of whom had sunk into bows. One by one, they rose. "You will serve me a greater purpose. But you need not worry about that. At the moment you should focus on your training for winning the World Championships."
"Sir, yes sir!" all four of them cried simultaneously. The man blinked in acknowledgement and left.
The lavender-haired youth returned to launching his blade over and over, face impassive and movements mechanical. The redhead watched him.
"What," came the monotonous question, or warning.
The latter returned to flexing his arms, weights secured in firm fingers. He had no emotions, none of them did. Boris had told them that time and again. Bryan had displayed that time and again.
Emotions included pity, did they not?
If so, what was that fleeting sense he found himself thinking when he saw Bryan's eyes, containing nothing but hate?
It couldn't have been pity.
Could it?
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The first two lines are not included in the first POV. They're for the prologue as a whole.
1 Bolded inverted commas – "………" – different language
We should give you a small warning. This story will contain no OC parings, nor RayMariah pairing.
We'll never know unless you press the little review button. Don't give up on us yet! This is just the prologue!
Oh and Happy New Year everyone!
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