One year.
It has been one year.
Nemesis has fallen and the earth is slowly rebuilding itself - the entire world continues to try to right its natural state, and the ecology and economy are slowly getting back on their feet.
In the face of such a time, it seems that all should lay aside their personal tragedies for awhile and centre their efforts towards rebuilding, restarting, and celebrating every precious moment of life they've been given.
But even as the children gather in the square a few blocks over, singing and dancing in celebration of the anniversary of the first year since the crisis, on boy sits alone.
Staring out a window, you can see his eyes are sad, alone on a window seat, lit by the dusty sunlight streaming in through the glass. While the others cheer and laugh in another room, Kenta is lost deep in thought, his forehead against the cool of a window and his eyes occupied by something outside space and time.
Because one year ago, he lost a friend.
One year to this day, he inherited a star meant for somebody else to have, carried on a legacy he never deserved. But it is not this that hurts him inside now. It is the loss of his mentor and hero, the very ruler of dragons himself and the only person he'd ever had to stand up so steadfastly to.
Ryuga now is just a memory, a star caught on a piece of metal, and a heart lost to a wonderful cause.
Kenta knows that he is gone, and Kenta knows that he is being selfish by thinking of his own losses at a time when this world needs him most. But every single day he goes on with an empty heart, rebuilds the soul of beyblade and the spirit of companionship and safety, but he feels like it's an act.
On this one day, he realises that he's had one year to mourn, one year to drag his feet and droop his eyes. It is time to move on. Time to reach out for the thing that consumes him most, the spirit of his sport, and help to set the world back to its proper state.
His footsteps mark an invisible trail down the sidewalk to a little stand on the side of the street. He buys two balloons. One is red and the other blue.
Nobody stops him as he walks back the way he has come with one balloon tied on each wrist. Vendors call out to him and a dog scrambles over his feet, but he does not stop to play with the other children. He continues steadfastly on his way.
He passes the apartment building where he lives. He passes his own block entirely. He keeps on walking.
And then three blocks down from his apartment, he stops.
There stands a little lot that used to be a paintball arena, with packed-down sand running across the concrete, and a little rusty shed lined with chicken wire where the kids on this block keep their bicycles. Here he can see the sky beyond the tops of the buildings, cloudless and freedom-blue.
Red for Ryuga. Blue for hope.
He releases the blue balloon first, watching it soar above him into the sky, trailing its way slowly until he can see it no more. This signifies the flying hope he has for the world to regain its balance and for everything to be all right again, for many new friends and countless adventures in the time to come.
And then he looks at the red balloon silently, bobbing in the soft breeze above his lifted wrist.
And then he unties the slipknot and it flies up, soaring suddenly as if it couldn't wait to be free.
He is letting go of his sorrow, letting go of everything that's kept him back this far. He will never forget Ryuga, but the past will no longer weigh him down.
He gazes up at the sky for a moment as the balloon slows its ascent, as if it is watching him to see if he will follow. And then it flies up, up, up, into the brilliant blue, until it is out of sight.