Chapter 1

It's a beautiful day outside. Clouds dot the orange-pink landscape, and dots of violet tint the horizon, indicating my favorite part of the day – sunrise.

At least, that's what I assume. I'm literally the farthest from the outside as I could possibly be in this city, dead center of the massive WBBA building in...well, the dead center of the city.

I swing my hand up, then bring it down as I will Saggitario to curve in a deadly arc towards my opponent's generic blue Bey. The two fusion rings spark and crash as my Bey finally sends the other one toppling out of the Stadium. Smirking slightly, I turn towards the announcer.

"AND THE WINNER IS KENTA YUMIYA! IN AN EXCITING FINISH, KENTA YUMIYA HAS ADVANCED TO THE SEMIFINALS OF THIS MONTH'S BEYBATTLE ROYALE! What a match!" the announcer shouts into his mic as I grin at the audience. "For now, it's closing time, so catch us tomorrow for the next exciting match of the WBBA Royale Tournament!"

My opponent scoops up his Bey from the smooth floor and stalks away, defeated. I will Sagittario to return to my hand, clipping it to my belt along with my launcher, and stride out of the room.

A couple of people bombard me for autographs, so I stop to fulfill their wishes. As the youngest tournament winner in over a century, of course they want my autograph.

After I was rescued from that hellhole, I spent some time trying to get over the traumatic events that had occurred in my childhood, from my parents' death to my capture and torture through the hands of that monster. I'd succeeded, mostly. I came out of there with nothing but aloofness, acerbic wit, and my Beyblade. And through practice and hard work, I'd managed to make people realize that the last part outweighed the other two.

"Sign my Bey, Kenta, please!" squeals a boy a year older than me.

"I won't sign your Bey, it'll ruin it." I smirk up at him. "You got paper?" He frantically digs out a crumpled piece of paper, which I pen my messy signature on.

"Man, how are you so good?" his friend asks. He's a little big, with mousy brown hair and a red button-down shirt. "I could never do half of what you do!"

"Of course you couldn't!" says the older boy. "Dude, this guy won the tournament, and he's all set to win it again! Yo, do you even know what his win loss record for this tournament is?"

"Yeah! Ten zilch!" says his friend. "You're amazing, Kenta! Will you teach me, please?"

"No time," I say quickly. "Sorry, I'd love to teach you, but I really can't. Practice, y'know?"

"Oh. Yeah, I understand," he looks downcast, but perks back up in a second. "It was awesome meeting you, Kenta! Thanks for the autograph! I can't wait to show everyone else."

"No problem." I smile widely, but morph the expression into a smirk as soon as he leaves. It's not that I don't teach anyone because I'm too busy, or too lazy. It's because it doesn't work. Most bladers aren't dedicated enough to put into practice what I give them. There's no point in teaching people if they aren't going to do anything with the knowledge you offer. And I doubt the two boys with their generic Beys are going to try and do anything more than brag about being Kenta Yumiya's disciples.

5 minutes later finds me jogging down below the train tracks, enjoying the rush of fresh air on my face. There's no way I won't win the semifinals. I work way too hard for that. If I keep practicing, the sky is the limit

I stop by the river to make sure I don't look like a wild animal. Sure enough, the gel's held up. My shamrock-green hair's been styled and buzzed into a high fade with thick sideswept hair. It looks a little messy, but fine overall. My brown eyes remind me of frozen coffee, as usual, and a black T-shirt and camo shorts fit my form well. I look fine. Like I've been at school instead of Beyblading. Which is impossible, of course, since it's Saturday. But still. It's great. I continue running.

What happened next was my fault. Totally, entirely my fault. Lost in thought, I slam into something huge and soft. Stumbling back, I look up to view the huge figure shadowing me. Recognizing him easily, my face slips into an easy grin.

It's Benkei. A white beanie sits on top of his blue hair, and his face is hard and set as usual. He wears a red and black jacket with khaki shorts.

"Sorry, man. Lost in thought." I smirk.

He chuckles menacingly. Okay, I recognize him, but he has no idea who I am except for the fact that I have a lot of points. Benkei is a Face Hunter, a group that corners players in unfair fights and steals all of their points. It's kind of pathetic, but I don't care. "What's your problem?" he taunts in a gravelly voice.

"Wasn't looking where I was going." I say calmly. "Have a great day, guys."

"What? You think this is funny?" one of the guys flanking Benkei says. Man, they are not backing down from being provoked.

"So you think this is a joke, buddy?" the other guy, the one on Benkei's left, snaps. "A punk like you, running into Mr. Benkei, hm?"

"Yeah, sorry about that." I shrug. "If you wanna battle, you could just say so." The Face Hunters look a little unnerved for a second, and for good reason. They aren't used to people requesting battles.

The guy on the left recovers quickly, and retaliates in a nasally voice. "Ha! Really, punk? You must be even dumber than we thought you were. You can face up against Mr. Benkei, and when you lose, we get all your points!"

I unclip my launcher and snap my Bey into the bottom, tensing my hand against the handle. The goon to the right of Benkei starts too. "We know you have quite a few points saved up."

"Why don't you just enter a tournament and win them fairly?" I ask, a little annoyed. It's a little chilly outside, and I don't want to waste time on some idiots.

The 2 goons laugh, and Benkei grins. "You actually think we wanna win a measly ten, or twenty points using the standard rules?" the left guy snickers. "You're delusional."

"Enough stalling, let's do this!" Benkei yells out. "Three!"

"Two!" scream the goons as I tighten my grip on the launcher cord.

"One!" I smirk. "Let it rip!"

Sagittario whirls onto the gravel with unrivaled force, and my adversary has to cover his face with a huge, meaty arm to avoid being sprayed by the gravel. The goons actually step back for a bit, not expecting me to have this much power. Benkei, however, grins, thinking he's got this in the bag.

His dark Bull charges forward, the Attack type Bey spinning madly towards me. I yawn and will my Bey to dodge. "High five." I smirk as I smash into Bull with Sagittario. It bounces back, spinning a bit unsteadily. "Down low." I tip my Bey forward, aiming for the vulnerable underside of Dark Bull. I charge, and at the last moment Sagittario tips up, smashing dark Bull into the roof. "Too slow."

Benkei panics, but soon smirks. "Backup, let's go, go, go!" he screams as the two goons flanking him, as well as two goons that have just snuck up behind me, all launch their Beys. Dark bull lands shakily on the pavement as four other beys arc towards mine. I smirk. Generic.

I swipe my hand lazily in a wide curve. "Go, Sagittario!" I snap as Sagittario begins to spin faster and faster in its place in the center of our makeshift ring. It's a deceptive move – you think that my Bey is a sitting duck, unable to move and with no momentum or power. And yet, Saggitario is only gathering power so that when you strike -

The four Beys all strike me at once, and all four of them go crashing into the walls of the tunnel, and all four of them clatter to the pavement and stop spinning. I'm left with nothing but an unsteadily spinning Dark Bull and a slightly shaky Saggitario. With a quick flick of my wrist, and a couple strong hits, Dark Bull wobbles and ceases its movement.

I return Sagittario to my hand and clip my stuff to my belt. Grinning at the rush of adrenaline that courses through my veins at a strong victory, I glance at Benkei. "You're good. I don't understand why you'd join a group like the Face Hunters."

He drops to his knees and picks up his Beyblade. "Ergh!" he grunts in frustration. "Oh, this is bad. What are we going to report to the Boss?"

I feel a little bad for them, so I raise my Bey Pointer and press a couple buttons. "You can have 500 points. Tell your Boss you beat me easily, but I gambled away most of my Bey Points at a nearby ring so I didn't have many left."

Benkei raises his own pointer and presses a button, accepting the transaction as my point counter goes down to 2,837. The goons pick up their own Beys and return to Benkei's side. The big man nods at me in respect.

"I like this kid," says one of the Face Hunters. "Can we keep him?"

"Hey, kid," says Benkei, turning to me. "Ever think about joining the Face Hunters?"

"No thanks," I say to him. "I can do friends, though, because I really gotta get home tonight."

"Alright, we'll be friends," Benkei laughs. "You ever change your mind, me 'n' the boys hang out here every Saturday evening. If you don't, well, come hang out sometime. We could always use some tips."

"Yeah, definitely. I'm always up for a good battle!" I say, and turn away. "Later."

I've only begun jogging when a blue blur crashes into me. Rubbing my forehead, I groan and look up. "Are you kidding me? Watch where you're going, man."

"Why would you be friends with them?" he blurts. He's tall, with spiky red-brown hair tamed with a Pegasus bandana. Warm brown eyes accompany a serious face. He wears an orange T-shirt under a shortsleeved blue jacket that he's unzipped. Black jeans and red sneakers accompany the typical pro-blader look. But his voice ruins the effect. It's really annoying and high.

"Because they're cool people behind the facade of toughness," I snap at him. "Who are you?"

"Which direction are you going?" he asks me, looking unnerved. I point away from the tunnel, north. "Wanna walk with me?"

I sigh. "I guess I have nothing else to do, so sure."

"My name is Gingka. Gingka Hagane," he says, smiling slightly as we walk along the river. "I don't wanna annoy you – what's your name, by the way? And just tell me who those guys were back there."

"Oh, them? They're the Face Hunters. And I'm Kenta. Kenta Yumiya."

"Face Hunters?" he replies. He must not be from here.

"Yeah! They trap Bladers in unfair battles and steal their points!" I smirk. "Not from me, though. I work too hard for that."

"But… you gave them your points." says Gingka. I nod.

"Because they needed it," I reply. "You know their boss? Oh, wait, of course you don't. You aren't from here. His name's Kyoya Tategami. Just an antisocial jerk, but he's good with his Bey so he likes to pretend he's all tough even though he couldn't bench press a Kleenex."

Gingka grins at my little trash talk. "Could you bench press a Kleenex?"

I shrug. "I'm working on it." Our combined laughter scares off the crow sitting on the walkway railing. "Seriously, though. Tategami's… he's bad. Not evil, just super petty and rude."

"Huh. It seems people like them are everywhere." says Gingka thoughtfully.

"Where are you from?" I asked him, a little curious. "Where's your home?"

"My home?" Gingka considers for a moment. Then he hops the railing, sliding down onto the hill below. Placing his hands behind his head, he leans back. "My home is right here."

I shrug and climb over as well, stopping to lie down next to him. I live in a small, rented room over the Bey Pit, which I can afford partially because of the money that winning tournaments gives me and partially because I made friends with the owner of the Bey Pit's daughter, Madoka Amano. She's around Gingka's age, and probably one of the best Beysmiths in the country. Her dad refuses to charge me more than I can afford. They won't miss me for a night or two. "Isn't that a euphemism for being homeless?"

Gingka shakes his head. "I have a room on the north side of the city, but I don't use it often. I'm only here temporarily."

"Really?" I didn't particularly care, but I wasn't yet drowsy and felt I might as well continue this conversation. "Why?"

"I'm traveling around the whole country, in a search for strong rivals in order to become the very strongest Blader." my companion gazes up at the starry sky, and I trace constellations with my eyes as I reply.

"The whole country? By yourself?"

"Yep."

"And nobody's mugged you of your launcher yet?"

"Hey, c'mon. Do I look like an easy target for muggers?" Gingka smirks.

I blink. "Yes."

"Ugh," he replies. "I guess this string launcher isn't doing much for my right arm."

"Just use the jungle gyms, it's what I've been doing for pullups and the like," I advise him. "My body's slowly been getting less scrawny."

Gingka smiles. "Thanks for the tip. I think I'm just too noticeable to be mugged without people noticing. Thieves usually pick on the less conspicuous types, right?"

"So I've heard. I bet you've fought a lot of tough battles."

"Haha, yeah," Gingka raises a shiny object in the air. A Bey. "Pegasus and I, we've been through a lot."

I wince.

"What?" Gingka asks me, noticing my expression.

"You should probably get that to the Bey Pit," I say. "When was the last time you got your Bey cleaned?"

"Cleaned?" asks the red haired boy.

I rub my eyes and sigh. "Never mind."

"So you're pretty good, aren't you Kenta? You wanna battle sometime?"

"I'm pretty busy. Maybe tomorrow evening." I lie. To be honest, I probably won't see him again, with him being something of a nomad. And me being me, I'll probably forget that Gingka Hagane ever existed by tomorrow. Besides, I was tired. The night had warmed a little bit, and I figured I wouldn't freeze if I slept out here for a night instead of my room. "I'm getting some sleep. Good night, Hagane."

Gingka seems a little surprised by my sudden dismissal, but he returns the wish. "Night."

I roll over onto my side and let sleep consume me.

When I wake up, Gingka's gone, but he's left me a little note. It's kind of illegible, and I snort as I rub the sleep out of my eyes and pick the tattered sticky note up.

"Kenta, if you're reading this, just letting you know that those Face Hunter guys woke me up early this morning. They wanted to wake you up, but you wouldn't budge. Man are you a heavy sleeper. Anyway, they were pretty apologetic about it, but Kyoya told them to challenge you to something called a 100 Bey Battle at the old construction site on the west side or something. I'm a little worried so I'll meet you at the entrance around 9, thx"

I groan and check my watch as I pick up my backpack and jump the railing. After dropping Gingka's note into a nearby recycling bin, I work on a breakfast of granola bars. As I walk and eat, I do some quick calculations. It's 8:49 right now, and it'll take me ten minutes to get to the construction site if I walk. That's all well and good. I'm only expecting the hundred Bey Battle to take ten minutes at the most, considering the Face Hunters aren't the most skilled people in the city. I have until 2PM to take care of some business around town and practice, and then I can head to the main WBBA stadium for the semifinals of the Royale. Perfect.

I wash down my breakfast with a bottle of water and head west at a steady jog. As I predicted, it takes nine minutes to get to the site, and as promised, Gingka is there. He looks worried as he leans back against some metal scaffolding.

"Thanks for checking in, but I'm fine." I tell him as I walk by. He jumps and stops me with a hand.

"Kenta! Okay, so, what we're going to do-" his spiky hair looks ruffled and his bandana isn't doing much to keep it in shape, and his clothes are rumpled, but his manner is as energetic and hyper as ever.

"Gingka, I have a tournament at 2." I roll my eyes. "Let's get this over with."

"But it's a hundred Bey battle! Are you sure you don't want me to go in for you?"

"Yep." I pop the P and push his hand away as I enter the building. Gingka, of course, follows me.

Sure enough, various member of the Face Hunters are perched on the frame of the building, all around me. Exactly 100, plus a figure at the top that I barely make out to be their leader, Tategami. Twin scars cross his eyes, and he wears ripped clothing. His hair is messily pulled into a ponytail.

I wink at Benkei, who grins back. Some of the other Face Hunters flash peace signs and the like at me as well. I guess the big guy must have told them about my generous point donation. But Benkei's got appearances to keep up, and so he hardens his face and yells out in his gruff voice.

"Kenta Yumiya," Benkei bellows. "You thought you were pretty clever yesterday, losing on purpose so we would be done with you. So today we're gonna give you another round!" he takes a deep breath. Dude should be an announcer for Beybattles, dang. "With the Face Hunters Specialty – the one hundred Bey Battle!"

I catch Benkei's eye and shrug, like sorry man, but I gotta win this one. He tilts his head and smirks, confident that he and the 99 other Face Hunters can beat me this time. "Yeah. Alright."

"Fine." the Bull user growls.

"Just get it over with. Me and Unicorn over here have brunch reservations." I smirk, whipping out my launcher, and hear a few Face Hunters stifle chuckles. Even Gingka smiles, worried as he is about the coming match.

"Well then, better get this party started." Benkei taunts.

The collective group of Face Hunters and I chant. "Three!"

"Two!" Benkei's roar can be distinguished even among the others.

"One." I hear Gingka whisper the word from behind me.

"Let it RIP!" I roar, ripping the string launcher's cord nearly out of the socket as Sagittario spins into action. I gather power as the Beys slam into mine from all directions, causing Sagittario to wobble slightly. It recovers quickly, though – not a balance type for nothing.

Benkei chuckles. "Nothing warms my heart like a nice hundred Bey battle. The Beys smack into each other, increasing their power and changing their trajectory so they can attack from all directions. Ha. Good times!"

"You're doomed, Yumiya!" a blond from the second row up mocks me. "No one survives a hundred Bey attack."

"Just run, Kenta!" Gingka yells.

"Wow, good to know you're on my side..." I mutter, watching a Bey narrowly zip by my cheek.

"Yeah, just zip it and watch, redhead!" Benkei screams.

"He's right, you know," I say as the veil of concentration descends upon my mind. My vision narrows and tunnels until the only thing remaining is Sagittario. Focusing on the Bey's immense, inherent power, I will the disc to spin faster and faster. The pressure mounts. I can hear the stone beginning to crack under the performance tip as golden light begins to seep out of the gaps in the Bey. I narrow my eyes, focusing.

"Huh?" asks Gingka, and I smirk. The golden aura around Sagittario intensifies, swirling around the energy ring until it comes to a crescendo.

"It's showtime, Sagittario!"

I don't just say the words. I roar them as my Bey rips through the altitude of the building, sending arcs of golden light in all directions. With an almost bestial scream, I throw my arms out to my sides and unleash naught but half a hundredth of mine and Sagittario's true power.

Every Blader in the room is blinded but me. My hair finally breaks out of its gelled mold and my bangs are thrown back from the sheer volume of force that exudes from me and my Beyblade.

When the light dies down, one hundred Beys lie on the floor. Mine spins proudly in the center of the floor, and I return it to my fist with a smirk. "Satisfied?"

The area is silent except for the sounds of Beys returning to their owners. Everyone is looking at their Beys strangely, almost in fear. I frown. What's wrong? I turn to Gingka, and he wears the same expression of awe as he slides his Beyblade out of its case. I look up and see Kyoya, staring at his own Bey in shock.

And just like that, every single Face Hunter in the building simultaneously turns and runs.

"You cracked my Face Bolt." says Gingka in shock.

"Oh, sorry." I shrug. "You were due for a visit to the Bey Pit anyway, I just streamlined the process.

"You cracked the Face Bolt of everyone in the room." he says numbly.

I frown. "Oh well, they were asking for it." I check my watch. Sweet, 9:03. That didn't take as long as I expected.

"Kenta Yumiya." The slightly high, cold voice emanates from the top row of the building. Kyoya's finally deigned to speak. "Flame Sagittario, eh? Not the greatest Bey, but what is great is what you are able to do with it. At last, it seems an opponent worthy of me and my Rock Leone has made itself known."

"Who are you?" asks Gingka. Oh, right. He doesn't know anyone. I silently sigh as Kyoya goes through his intro.

"I am Kyoya Tategami." he chuckles, turning back to me. "Heh, this should be interesting."

"I hope so, Tategami," I give him a mock salute and turn away. "See ya next time." With that, I'm out of the building, Gingka following behind.

"Whoa." he tells me.

"Took some practice and some understanding of my partner in crime." I say, holding Flame Sagittario up to the light. "Ugh, a few scratches on here… shoot, some debris stuck in the fusion ring. Gotta do some maintenance before my tournament today."

Gingka seems to light up. "Tournament? Can I join in?"

I laugh and shake my head. "It's the semifinals. You can't catch anything right now except for a couple of lesser tournaments around town or in the other rooms of the WBBA stadium."

His shoulders slump. "Oh." he perks back up soon as we continue walking. "Can you battle me today?"

"I haven't cleaned my Bey yet, sorry. I was going to go to the gym until lunch."

"I'm coming too." Gingka says obstinately.

"Can you not." I groan.

"Why?"

"I like to work out alone!"

"Me too." Gingka insists stubbornly.

"Fine," I rub my forehead. "Don't try to start conversations with me while I'm doing my reps."

"It's a deal!" and just like that, the pep is back in his step.

The jungle gym is a few miles east of the construction site where the Face Hunters hold hundred bey battles, so Gingka and I just decide to walk. It's good exercise after all, and as Gingka puts it, "Who knows when we might have to skip leg day?"

It's a shiny new contraption, hardly any rust on it at all. Which is a good thing, because working out and tetanus should not have to mingle. I immediately launch into a quick warmup as Gingka scrambles to follow me in my routine. Despite me being a little younger than him, my muscles are clearly more developed as he struggles to keep up.

"The sets are to failure." I inform him between sets as I sip on my AquaPure and Gingka gulps his own water down so fast I can't believe he isn't choking. "You'll probably collapse a lot sooner than me. Don't worry about it, just move on to a different exercise until I finish."

Gingka nods, and gives me a more extensive response once he catches his breath. "Don't worry, I won't be starting any conversations with you during this -" he gestures wildly to the bar where we'd been doing pullups. "Whatever this is. Torture." I'm snickering as I launch into a new set of pushups.

After about half an hour, at ten AM, my redheaded companion is absolutely winded. He gasps out some sort of medical excuse to me that sounds like "save – energy – Pegasus – battle" and I just wave him away as I do situps hanging off of a bar.

He comes back some time later, just as I'm finishing up. I towel sweat off of my forehead, finish off my fourth waterbottle, and check my watch. It's 11:52. Gingka, of course, is shocked at this fact. "Are you serious?"

"What?" I ask him, stuffing the towel and waterbottle back into my pack.

"I've just finished like..." he gestures animatedly as he speaks. "Seventy small battles at the stadium, and then I went to get a snack and chatted with some people at the market for way too long, and you're just finishing up?"

"Yeah. It's been a couple hours." I inform him as I stretch and begin walking.

"But – I could barely do half an hour!" Gingka says, flustered. "Oh man."

I smirk. "I'm getting lunch."

"I'll come."

After lunch at the nice bistro near the WBBA stadium, during which Gingka peppered me with questions and some of my fans annoyed me and him a little bit (he'd become something of a celebrity in the Beyblade world after those seventy matches, apparently), I left Gingka to finish his noodles and headed over to the Bey Pit.

"Hey," I say as I walk through the automatic doors. "Ah, that feels good." The AC felt amazing in contrast to the heat of the outside. The Bey Pit is a sleek, white-walled building that Bladers across Japan enter in order to have their Beys cleaned, fixed, or even re-engineered.

"Kenta!" the brown haired girl behind the counter grins at me. Madoka Amano is a young prodigy at Bey engineering and maintenance, and I'm super fortunate to have a friend like her. "Out and about? Where were you last night? I didn't see you come in." I hand Madoka my Bey, and she pulls her goggles down before pulling her rolling chair over to her toolbox.

"Out and about is a way to put it," I perch on one of the stools near the counter, watching Madoka use her tweezers to remove debris from the Bey. "Man, do I have a lot to tell you in a short timespan."

"Talk fast." Madoka advises me.

"Okay," I agree as Madoka polishes the performance tip. "Last night, I was coming back from the last match of the quarter finals – I'm moving on, by the way -"

"Yes!" my friend pumps her fist, and we share a high five

"And on the way back, I ran into some Face Hunters."

"Oh, no." Madoka groans as she slides my Bey across the table. "Check that out."

I slide the special Bey light across the counter and flash it across the Bey. After I've checked it thoroughly for any missed spots, I nod and smile. "Thanks, Madoka. Anyway, Of course I beat them. They were scared – they didn't want to report a loss back to Kyoya. So I donated 500 points."

"The right thing to do," she nods. "Honestly, Tategami would have a hissy fit no matter who they lost to."

"At least I've got Benkei and some Face Hunters on my side," I shrug. "After that, I was walking back here when I bumped into this guy, Gingka Hagane, who asked me why I'd done that. I got caught up in a conversation with him, lying on the grass near the train tracks. He's apparently traveling across the country with his Bey to get stronger. I fell asleep after a little bit, which is why I didn't come here."

"Wow," says Madoka, clearly still trying to process that. "You had an actual conversation with someone."

"He was very persistent," I roll my eyes. "Anyway, apparently Kyoya didn't accept that I'd lost to them and the Face Hunters challenged me to a hundred Bey battle. Gingka followed me, obviously, and I won. Kyoya promised me a one-on-one battle sometime soon, too."

"Should be fun," laughs Madoka. "Take his ego down a few notches. So this Gingka, where is he now? Next city?"

I grin. "Nope, he's working on some noodles at the bistro down the street. I promised him I'd be back. Come with?"

"I would if I could," says Madoka, picking up a list with about a hundred names crammed onto it. "But clients."

"Clients," I agree, placing the tab for the Bey repair on the counter plus a generous tip. "Thanks for fixing Sagittario up. You coming to my match at 2?"

"For sure!" Madoka makes the promise with a smile and a wave. "Have fun with Gingka Hagane!"

"I'm not sure I will, but thanks for the wishes," I smirk, and wave back. "Good luck with the list, Madoka!"

As soon as I exit the Pit, Gingka runs up to me. "Kenta!" he pants. "They're saying- they're-"

"What?" I ask him.

"The semifinals are starting now! C'mon, we gotta go! Apparently the schedule changed, they're cramming the finals into today too!"

"Where'd you learn all this?" I grumble as we sprint towards the stadium.

Gingka taps the phone case clipped to his belt. "WBBA's website has listings for all the cities in Japan."

"I'm gonna need to borrow that later on." I tell Hagane, thinking of Madoka. "My friend-"

"Sure, sure, let's just go!" Gingka snaps.

"Thanks." I say quietly. I might have missed this if it weren't for him. He's too busy panting to reply.

We burst into the stadium just as my competitors are filing in. Phew.

I direct Gingka to the line of spectators, but have second thoughts and redirect him to Kenny, the guy in the admissions booth for Beybattle Royale. "Mr. Kenny?" I knock on the glass of the booth to get his attention. "I'm Kenta Yumiya," I say, flashing my Competitor ID. "This is Gingka Hagane. Think you could speed things along for him, maybe waive the spectators' price as well?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Yumiya." Ken nods at me. "Miss Amano coming as well? I can save a ticket for her."

"Yeah, I think so." I smile, and it's genuine. "Thanks, Mr. Kenny."

I give Hagane a little shove, wave, and head over to the competitors' lineup in order to confirm my placement. As soon as I'm placed into a prep room for my match, I put a couple of dimes into the pay phone and call Madoka, who picks up after a few rings.

"Hey."

"Hey yourself, Kenta. What's going on?"

"Okay, Madoka, I'm really sorry, I didn't know this. The WBBA changed the schedule. Semifinals start now, and I'm first up."

"Shoot! Shoot, okay, I can get Akihiro to man the counter for the rest of the day. Should I bring money-"

"No! No, you don't need money. Kenny's got you covered. Just go on up to the admissions booth."

"Ah, Kenny's a lifesaver." I can hear Madoka's relieved sigh over the phone. "Okay, I should go get Aki on counter duty and get going. When does your match start?"

"Five minutes, give or take."

"Okay. That's fine! I'll see you there, bye!"

"Bye." I hang up the pay phone and quickly take out my launcher and Bey, polishing the string launcher and Sagittario up a bit before it's my turn to go out. I spend the minutes taking deep breaths and glancing at the clock, wishing the blank white walls were a bit more interesting so that I could take my mind off of the butterflies in my stomach.

The semifinals. I know that nobody really good will be participating, but I can't help but be nervous. It's one thing to have to do something before 100 Face Hunters that are fervently praying that you lose, and it's an entirely different thing to do something with people that adore you and expect you to win. Both are nerve wracking, and something I'm only just learning to handle.

And then the announcer's voice booms through the air, and the butterflies disappear. I grin, adrenaline coursing through my veins. It's in moments like this that I swear I was born in a stadium. "AND NEXT UP – KENTA YUMIYA VERSUS ICHIKO ISHIKAWA!"

I climb the ramp to get to the main stadium, waving at my fans as I approach the center ring. I see Gingka and Madoka in the front row, only a few people apart, and grin. Looks like Kenny pulled through, as usual.

The ref reads out the rules to me as I assemble my launcher and prime myself for the coming match. Ichiko must be decent – she's made it this far, after all, and many people seem to be confident that she'll win. I hear a lot of cheers of: "I-SHI! KA-WA! THE! TRUE! CHAMPI-ON!" and "KEN-TA! YUMI-YA! FOUR TO EIGHT TO TEN TO WIN!" Obviously referencing my ten zero record in this month's Royale.

Letting my arrogant side take over, I smirk at Ichiko. She raises her eyebrows, not fooled, so I let my smirk unravel into a little grin, which she returns. I straighten my posture with a glint in my eye, making it clear that I know I will win.

"Three!" The crowd yells.

"Two!" Gingka and Madoka have their hands cupped around their mouths, yelling their lungs out.

"One!" Ichiko and I smile as we simultaneously - "LET IT RIP!"

Sagittario charges. Ichiko never stood a chance.

Neither did anyone else that day, for that matter.

It's the last match, and with one final hit, the Royale trophy is mine. I smirk and accept the golden wreath, waving to an impressed Gingka and a fanatical Madoka as the announcer rambles.

"AND I DON'T BELIEVE IT! THIS YOUNG BOY HAS MANAGED TO SNAG HIS SECOND MAJOR BEYBLADE TITLE IN TWO WEEKS! GIVE IT UP FOR THE BEYBATTLE ROYALE VICTOR, KENTA "SUNLANCE" YUMIYA!"

A mic is shoved in front of my face. "As always, I'd like to thank Madoka Amano over at the Bey Pit, and her father Masaki Amano for offering me help, guidance, and support throughout my time Beyblading. Thank you guys, seriously, from the bottom of my heart." I grin at Madoka, who smiles back.

Man, I love this city.