Chapter 1: The Trig Trick
It was dusk in Rome. A troubled teen roamed the streets. Glancing around, he saw bladers in battle. The noise of beyblades spinning in dishes was a familiar sound-- one that would lift his spirits if his day hadn't been spoiled by the arrival of his report card. 'Oh, Enrique. Why do you always run away from your troubles? Why must math be harder than blading?!' the blonde-hair teen complained in his head as he sat down on a public bench. From his pocket, Enrique took out a piece of folded and crumbled paper. He unfolded it and stared at the writings. "Thirty percent," he said with a heavy sigh. He began reading his report card again, hoping that his math percentage would magically increase to one hundred percent. Suddenly, a flashback played in his mind.
*Flashback begins*
"What is it, Father? That you wish to see me about?"
"Your mother and I have seen your report card. We are very disappointed by your math grade," a voice called out.
"Forgive me, Father. I will try harder," Enrique replied, looking at the chair his father was sitting on. He couldn't see the expression on his father's face. He only saw the back of the chair. 'I guess Father's too ashamed of me to even face me."
"You will try even harder this time, Son. Tomorrow afternoon, your new tutor will arrive."
"Another tutor, Father?"
"Yes. Unfortunately, the ones you had before didn't do the trick."
Enrique said nothing, wondering how much help the new tutor could be if the others before couldn't teach him trigonometry.
*Flashback ends*
He knew he would never get one hundred percent-- especially with trigonometry involved, but he wasn't ready to stop hoping. An eighty would be good enough for he and his father. When he finished reading the paper for the tenth time that day, he decided he had done enough moping. It was time for action. It was time for him to change. It was time for a new Enrique. He stuffed the paper back into his pocket and gotten out another piece from his other pocket. 'Time to study, Enrique! No more escaping!'
After several seconds of looking at his study paper on trigonometry, a frustrated Enrique cried out, "AAAHHH!!! I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!" He flung his hands and let go of his paper.
Suddenly, his complaint caught the attention of a stranger walking pass him. This stranger, wearing a hooded purple cloak, halted and picked up the paper Enrique threw to the ground.
"Hmm.... Math.... Trigonometry.... " the stranger muttered, looking at Enrique.
"HEY!!!" Enrique shouted, alarmed when the stranger crumbled his paper and tossed it into the recycle bin. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!"
"You dare question me?!" the stranger's deep voice replied, enraged. "I challenge you to a blade battle!!!"
"Hmmph! I'm not in the mood!" Enrique expressed, folding his arms and trying to ignore the stranger.
The stranger let down the hood of the purple cloak. Enrique looked up, glaring at the smirk the stranger had on. 'He's mocking me! He's going to pay for what he's done!' The stranger had more than a smirk. His reddish brown eyes had a glint of amusement in them.
"I accept your challenge! Under one condition!"
"Fine! Explain. I don't have all night!"
"If I win, you'll teach me trigonometry," Enrique thought deviously.
"That'll never happen! What do I get when I win?"
"Anything you want."
"Anything I want? Hmmm.... This wager is definitely in my favour!"
"Then, let's beyblade!"
A crowd gathered around them. Among them, there were some chattering and muttering. "Isn't that the talented Enrique?" one of them asked.
"Yes. But, who's the other guy?" another voice spoke.
"He's toast!"
"Don't any one of you know?! That's the mysterious and undefeated Crimson Challenger."
"Crimson?! HA! That kid is wearing purple, not red!"
"THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!"
"LET IT RIP!!!" Enrique and the 'Crimson Challenger' yelled in unison. Their blades landed perfectly into the dish with great force.
"Alright! Let's do this quick! MAGI [pronounced Maggie]!" the Crimson Challenger shouted, alarming Enrique, who never thought that his opponent would try to attack this earlier in the battle.
"ERRR!!!" Enrique exclaimed.
"Pay close attention, Kid, you might learn something! MAGI, prepare to unleash the Trig Trick!"
"Huh? The Trig Trick?" a puzzled Enrique repeated. "Trigonometry?!"
"MAGI! Here's the info: A SSA triangle. Triangle ABC, where angle B is forty degrees, angle A and angle C are unknown. Length of b is nine paces, length of c is ten paces. Solve for the larger angle of C. Make your move at that angle in thirty seconds! One pace equals ten centimetres."
"Amphilyon! Prepare to counter! Okay, Enrique. You need to solve. AHHH!!! What was the question again? Oh yeah, I did that question before. The answer is um... forty-six degrees. But where's angle C? AHHHHHHH!!!"
"ATTACK!!!" the Crimson Challenger ordered.
Almost instantly, the Crimson Challenger's red blade sent Enrique's blade flying out of the dish.
"Ugh. I lost. You did what you could, Amphilyon," Enrique said, picking up his blade.
"Enrique just lost to the Crimson Challenger."
"The Crimson Challenger remains undefeated."
"Why is he called the Crimson Challenger again?"
"Crimson is either referring to his long red hair tied in a ponytail or his crimson blade. And rumours have it that he challenges at least one person to a blade battle every day at this time, when dusk has just arrived."
"QUIET!" the Crimson Challenger commanded, and everyone obeyed.
"Next time, pay closer attention, Boy. There were two solutions to angle C. I ordered Magi to attack at the larger one, at which angle C was one hundred and thirty-four degrees. Nice try though, Kid."
"One hundred and thirty-four degrees? That was the ambiguous case scenario! ERRR!!! You tricked me!"
"That's why it's called the Trig Trick. Sheesh! Bladers today are so poor in mathematical skills."
"ERRR!!! Alright, alright! I get the message! I don't need your lecture too! Just tell me what is it that you want from me!"
"My, my, my. You sure are agitated. I don't want anything from you, Kid. I've already got everything I need."
"Is that so? Then, what about a decent name?"
"Crimson Challenger is what people like to call me. I don't mind. It does suit me in some ways. And I don't intent to reveal my true identity. I'm just here to challenge and win! That's all. No one needs to know my name."
"Enough talking! I challenge you, Crimson Challenger!" a boy, about the same age as Enrique and the Crimson Challenger, yelled out.
"And why would I want to battle you?"
" 'Cause I know my Trigonometry!"
"I don't choose to battle those who are weak in trigonometry. I choose my own fights. Besides I'm late for dinner."
"That's no excuse to refuse my challenge."
"Too bad. You'll have to deal with it unless you are desperate enough to face my Magi. He's one bit-beast that'll tear your blade into a million pieces literally when he emerges from his blade. And I don't want to use him until I find the worthiest of all bladers."
The boy who challenged Crimson replied, "Alright. Fine. Our battle will have to wait for another time. My mom's expecting me for dinner too."
"Weak," commented the person standing besides the boy who wanted to battle the Crimson Challenger.
"Tell us your name," Enrique demanded.
"What's with the name business? Fine then. All those who I've defeated call me Crimson while those who have yet to face me call me the Crimson Challenger. Choose whichever. Until then, learn trigonometry, Kid. Maybe you'll get a rematch."
"Yay. Can't wait," Enrique answered dully, knowing that'll never happen since he'll never understand trigonometry. And even if he does, he won't be as good as Crimson, would he? Besides, where is he going to find the Crimson Challenger for a rematch? That Crimson kid was just making him feel worst. 'How inconsiderate of him to pick on a guy who was already down in the dumps?!' Enrique thought somewhat sadly and angrily, as he watched the stranger, titled as the Crimson Challenger, vanished. He let out a heavy sigh. 'Hopefully, tomorrow's going to be a better day.'
* * *
To be continued.
A/N: This was called Trigonometry Troubles at first. Now it's School Troubles.
Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.