Yay! Updates! Super long one to make up for the MASSIVE gap. Next few chapters are almost written, so regular updates for a bit - well, ish. Read on...

Disclaimer: I don't own a pair of stiletto heels, as I can't walk in the darn things. I also don't own MFB, and can't walk in that either, which is why I write fics about it so that at least then it feels like I can.

Chapter 5

The thing about time was that it passed.

The thing about his family was that it tended to stay the same.

It had been about four months since that day when Ryuto had managed to grab Storm Cygnus, and frankly nothing had changed, except the weather outside the windows. The housekeeper still scolded him for leaving his coat flung over the end of the bannisters, whilst ignoring the complete mess that was Ryuto's room. Ryuto himself still spent almost every waking hour (well, except the ones when he was bugged Ryuga for a battle) with his mother, who was apparently "getting better" but still only wanted to see her baby. She took her meals in her room, and Ryuga had seen her three times in the four months.

He had seen his father only a little more often – perhaps twice a week at the big 'family' dinners that somehow excluded Ryuga's mother. They were invariably silent, slightly prickly affairs that left a bad taste in his mouth for hours afterwards, even if the cook had taken pity on him and served fish (Ryuga's favourite, not that anyone but the cook and the butler knew).

As for Ryuko, Ryuga saw him once a day at dinner time, before the older teen disappeared off into the the office with his father where he had already spent most of the day, and wouldn't emerge until long after Ryuga had given up on finding something to do around the house and had gone to bed.

Lessons were still the same. Actually, no, they were worse. Ryuga couldn't escape from the fact that he was bored in almost every lesson, and the patronising look on his tutor's face whenever he handed in another piece of work covered in his messiest handwriting merely added to the silent hatred he was building up against the man. He was nearly thirteen, and others his age would have long since passed this point in their education, but due to an apparent combination of disinterest and sheer ignorance, his tutor couldn't see that Ryuga wasn't being rebellious for no reason. Okay, it was a really petty reason, but it was his, and that was the important thing.

And so he was more than a little surprised when, halfway through the Friday dinner, his father looked across at him and said "Ryuga, would you meet me in my office after dinner?"

It was not the first time that Ryuga had been called to his father's office, but it was the first in a very long time, and for once he honestly had no idea why. The previous times had been for very significant misbehaviour (memorable ones included using the the grand staircase bannister as a slide by coating it in butter stolen from the kitchen and sliding down on his raincoat, and one involving all the house-plants and a bucket of blue paint) but Ryuga definitely hadn't done anything anywhere near that disastrous in the past couple of weeks, so he was clueless.

He was fidgety and distracted all the way through dessert (not a good plan – it was chocolate pudding with sauce and yes, he was wearing white) and the moment that his father stood to indicate that the dinner was over, Ryuga fled to his room. He waited five minutes before slipping back down one flight of stairs to the floor that his father's office was on.

"Come in." He didn't even have to knock. Then again, who else was it going to be at this time of night? Ryuga took a seat across the large desk from his father, keeping his eyes on the older man's face the entire time. Lesson one of being a businessman, Ryuga, he had been told many times. Never break eye-contact first. It is a submission. We never submit. We never give in. We dominate and rule.

His father's eyes were calm and expressionless. "Ryuga. Please explain what this is about."

Some part of Ryuga's mind immediately assumed that his father had somehow managed to get hold of Cygnus, and he was about to launch into an explanation of how blading worked – finally his father wanted to listen! - when he realised that his father's hand was actually resting on a piece of paper covered in very familiar handwriting.

His confusion must have shown on his face, because his father's eyes narrowed. "This is a letter from your tutor, Ryuga. The man to whom I pay many thousands a year to teach you everything you will need to know in order to support your brother when he takes over the company. He says that you have missed an average of three lessons a week in the past two months. Would you tell me why?"

Ryuga kept his posture perfectly straight, his voice perfectly steady. "I was practising."

His father's face flickered, but it was so quick that Ryuga couldn't read the emotion. "Practising what, exactly?"

"I'm training to become a beyblader. So I need lots of time to practice so that I'll be the best." He drew himself up as proudly as he could. "I'm going to be the most powerful blader in the world."

"And you think that skipping lessons will help you do that?" His father's voice was almost friendly.

"Well..." Ryuga fumbled for a second. "The more I practice, the better I get. I won't need lessons when I'm in the dish."

"Wouldn't it be good to know how to analyse the opponent? That is maths and physics."

"Y-yes, but..."

"Do you taunt the opponent, as they do in other uncouth sports? Shakespeare has some of the best insults known to man."

How had his father learnt so much about blading? And was Ryuga just imagining it, or was he really telling Ryuga that it was alright to use his studies to blade with?

"I... I guess..."

"You guess?" The sudden sharpness would have made anyone else flinch. "Ryuga, I thought I had trained you to be determined, decisive!"

He understood what that tone meant. "Yes, Father," he said quietly.

"Ryuga, it's long past the time that you should begin thinking clearly about where your life will lead you. You're acting as if you can build a reputation and a career on the outcome of battles between spinning tops."

That was something he couldn't stay silent over. "Father, beyblading is one of the biggest businesses in the world at the moment. Even minor amateur matches are playing to packed stadiums of paying fans, and the WBBA employs over five thousand workers in offices around the world – and that's before you count all the stadium staff! Top-ranking professional bladers can get paid easily as much as other sports stars at the top of their game. It's a business, Father. A massive, world-wide business."

"Ryuga, it's a game!" His father slammed a hand down on the desk. "I used to think that it was a good thing that you were showing such determination to succeed and remain focused on a single activity for so long, but it's beginning to get ridiculous. You're nearly thirteen, Ryuga, and you're no longer a child. Stop acting like one."

That hurt. He loved blading more than anything. It was the one thing he actually enjoyed doing.

"I cannot stop you from frittering away your time on useless things in your free time, but you will stop missing lessons in order to pursue this ridiculous plan of yours. If I hear of you missing even five minutes of another lesson, I will confiscate and destroy that little top of yours."

Only years of training prevented the full extent of Ryuga's horror and pain showing in his face. "Father!"

"Now get out. I have more important things to attend to than your foolish hobbies."

And that was that. His father picked up his pen and a stack of papers from his in-tray, and ignored his son's presence completely.

Deep inside Ryuga, a tiny crack crept traitorously towards the surface like an imperfection running through crystal.

.

Time drifted by like water under a bridge, and in the cold depths of his heart Ryuga couldn't be bothered to track the fading seasons. He didn't miss any more lessons – he couldn't risk losing Storm Cygnus – but he certainly didn't want to actually try. That really was a waste of his time, particularly as his tutor was the most boring person on the planet.

It wasn't long before his tutor made yet another complaint about both Ryuga's laziness and Ryuto's carelessness. This time, however, their father decided (for once) to take their side, and fired him for incompetence. By the end of the week, he had hired a new tutor, one who came with less experience and fewer references than their previous tutor, but who had a much better idea of how to teach a trio of rich, almost spoiled boys with far too much time on their hands.

His name was Doji. Upon hearing of his appointment, Ryuga had immediately decided that he was going to hate the man, for the simple reason that he was his tutor, and Ryuga wanted nothing less than lessons, as amusing as that looked when he actually wrote it down once and realised how many letters were shared.

But it turned out to be surprisingly difficult to hate the man. Doji was always very deferential and treated Ryuga with a huge amount of respect, though never too far because that would have been very creepy even by Ryuga's standards. He somehow knew that Ryuga's laziness was from boredom, and started to push him further and further in his lessons, meaning that Ryuga began to (albeit reluctantly) enjoy himself. Then he'd found out about Ryuga's long-concealed love for ancient myths and legends, and started to introduce the themes into his Literature and History lessons, sessions that his student started to look forward to more and more every week.

Of course, in the meantime Ryuga kept blading in private, practising over and over again even when he got no results. On the pretence that he wanted to go to the library in the nearby town, he began sneaking down to the marketplace on Saturdays to watch the bladers there and try to mirror their technique. Not that it helped – he normally managed a single successful launch per practice session, and by successful he meant a launch that actually left his blade spinning for a single second instead of stopping instantly.

But he was, as he had always and would always be, his father's son, which made him every bit as proud and determined to complete his task as Ryuko might be to close a business deal. Which meant he didn't give up.

He couldn't give up. Not whilst there was that slightest whisper of hope in his heart at every single launch that maybe this time, maybe this time, maybe this time it would be the one launch that would work.

.

Ryuga would never know that, despite his secrecy and his caution, there was one person who knew rather more about his private blading sessions than anyone might expect. The tutor, Doji, had been on the lookout from the first day for anything unexpected or unusual from his middle student, and it had taken him only a couple of weeks to spot it. It was, after all, his job to look after the children of his employer and to teach them in whatever way he could. Ryuga's fascination with the little tops caught his attention very quickly, and it was clear that the boy genuinely loved the activity, no matter how little skill he currently showed.

"May I speak with you for a second, sir?"

Which was why he was standing in the office of his charge's father, a year and a half after being employed, prepared to ask something of the man that Ryuga would never have dreamed of even thinking to ask. But if it was for the sake of his students and their education, Doji would do almost anything.

Ryuga's father looked up. "How can I help you, Doji?"

Doji inclined his head respectfully. "I'd like to talk to you about Ryuga."

"Is he missing lessons again?"

"No. But... actually, that seems to be part of the problem." Doji took a deep breath. "I've been tutoring Ryuga for nearly eighteen months now, and he's got an extraordinary mind. He picks up information so quickly that I can barely keep up sometimes."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "His test scores with his previous tutor showed none of this."

Doji hid a smile. "With all due respect, sir, Ryuga's previous tutor appeared to be treating him as if he was eight, rather than the very smart twelve-year-old he was. He's almost fifteen now, and he's soaking up information like a sponge. He devours books like they're meals in front of a starving child and his essays are getting deeper and more complex by the day. He's started to take themes from one subject and apply them to others without any prompting – outstanding for a boy his age."

"Get to the point, Doji."

"Of course, sir. The other day, Ryuga asked me if he could start learning about the history of the sport known as beyblading. He is clearly very passionate about it, but I know that you have a very clear opinion of what you wish your children to learn. I merely sought your permission before we began any larger projects."

Ryuga's father sighed and put down his pen, using his other hand to rub at his head. "I thought we'd seen the last of this foolishness."

"Foolishness, sir?"

The look he got almost made Doji take a step back, but he had a task to complete. "There is a reason why I choose the subjects I wish my children to be taught," the other man said. "Ryuga and Ryuto are meant to assist Ryuko in running my business when I die, Ryuga in particular. If he does not have the knowledge, the skill and the grades to support him, he will be useless to his brother, and by extension to me. I have trained all my children to be ruthless, but Ryuga appears to be careless. He does not care about my business, even though it is his future inheritance. I cannot have that in a son." For a long moment, he was silent. Finally, he looked up at Doji. "In three months, there will be a state dinner here, as there is every year. This year, Ryuga will be old enough to attend the entire evening, rather than just the earlier socialising as his younger brother will do and as he himself has done up to this year. I expect the highest standards of behaviour from him, and I expect him to demonstrate that he is a true son of this family in manners, intelligence, charm and etiquette. You will ensure this happens, or you will never work in the tutoring business again."

"I understand, sir."

"You will not discuss beyblading in lessons. His free time is his, because despite what Ryuga might think I am not some kind of monster, but I will not have his hobbies taking up time that will impact on his future." For a second, the man's eyes softened. "I want him to have all the advantages he can. The business world is tough, and children like Ryuga need every helping hand they can get when it comes to facing up to others with years of experience with nothing but their determination and intelligence."

Doji could see the man's point. In a world dominated by the most ruthless minds, anyone showing the slightest hint of weakness would be destroyed in moments, bringing the business that the family had run for generations crashing down around their ears. For three brothers together to enter a business where backstabbing was the norm, the fall of even one would create a irreparable rift.

"Yes, sir."

And that was the end of the conversation.

.

It was not, however, the end of the discussion.

As part of his most recent lessons, Ryuga had been joining Ryuko and his father in the office three times a week in the afternoons to help with the paperwork that made up what seemed to be the majority of running a successful business. Whilst in theory it was interesting to find out more about his family business, Ryuga simply found himself bored – and worse, he kept making mistakes. His father ignored most of them, because Ryuga had only been helping out for a couple of weeks, but when Ryuko was turning in page after page which needed no corrections it still stung.

It was a Thursday afternoon when it happened.

In the long run, maybe that wasn't the most important thing for Ryuga to remember about that day, but it was the thing that sprang to mind first. He was sitting at the side table, working through a small pile of receipts that he needed to prove some expenses claims (the only thing that his father trusted him completely with) whilst Ryuko and his father sat at the big desk with a rather larger pile of papers made up of business offers in front of them.

"Ryuga?"

"Yes, Father?" Ryuga immediately came to attention. His father's voice was very controlled, which usually meant he was hiding something.

"Your tutor came to see me this week. He said you were doing very well in your lessons."

Ryuga wasn't quite sure what to say, so he stayed silent.

"He also said that you wanted to start learning about the history of that so-called sport you enjoy so much."

For a moment, Ryuga was certain that his blood had been replaced with ice. That tone in his father's voice was never good. Ever. Okay, just stay calm.

"I thought it would make a good project. I'm interested in it, and it's not something that's usually covered in history, so I'd have to learn how to research it as well as everything else."

Just stay calm. Stay calm.

"I don't think it's a very suitable project at all, Ryuga. In fact, I'd rather you stopped this nonsense altogether. I have told Doji that you are not permitted to do anything related to this little hobby of yours, and I trust that you will follow my instructions."

"But..."

"I will not allow anything to keep you from your proper studies. You are a young man now, Ryuga, and soon you will be taking on more responsibilities within the business. I don't need you being distracted by... by things that don't matter."

"That don't matter?" Ryuga spluttered, turning to face his father completely. "It matters to me! I like blading and I like finding out about its history!"

"Which will not help you in the real world whatsoever. Learning this... this fragment of history will not bring you financial partners, nor understanding of markets, nor anything else worth knowing in our line of business!"

"Father, I want to learn this! I can do it on top of everything else, it won't interfere with my studies at all..."

"It's interfering with your life, Ryuga! Throwing your time away on battling spinning tops is not a valid career path for you!"

"Why not?" Ryuga asked, fighting desperately to keep his emotions under control. Lesson two of being a businessman. Never show your true feelings. The other side will gain an immediate advantage. Be cool and collected in everything you do. "Why can't I pick my own path?"

"Because you are my son! This is what you were born for, Ryuga! I just wish you'd be more like your brother!"

And there it was. The phrase he had somehow been expecting since the very first time he'd realised that no matter what he did, Ryuko would always outshine him.

He glanced over to where Ryuko had stopped pretending to work and was outright staring at his brother and father. The older boy seemed shocked, even slightly horrified at the argument going on in front of him, but Ryuga had looked up one second too soon for him to completely hide the tiny, smug grin that had appeared on his face when his father had praised him so highly.

Something hot and heavy swooped in Ryuga's stomach and he stood very suddenly, knowing that unless he got out of there right that second, something was going to happen that he could neither predict nor control. It was a terrifying sensation, and he pushed it away, pushed it back to the place where he pushed everything that drove him towards that edge of losing control because control was everything to him...

"Hey, Ryuga? You okay?"

Ryuto.

Of course it was Ryuto. The twelve-year-old was smiling up at him as if the whole world was going his way which, knowing Ryuto, it probably was.

"Ryuto, get out of the way."

"It's just that normally if you're in Dad's office you've done something really bad and I..."

"I said, get out of my way!"

"Ryuga?"

"Move!"

It was an instinctive reaction, a visceral response to the rage that was beginning to break through the formidable barriers he had held it behind for so long. Ryuto went flying backwards into the wall as Ryuga shoved him with all his strength, the dull thud of impact wobbling one of the antique vases on the hall table.

"RYUGA!"

The voice sent terror flooding through his veins, dousing the fury instantly. He'd never heard his father sound so angry.

"How dare you! No son of mine behaves like that!"

Ryuga couldn't even turn around.

"Get out of my sight. I don't want to see you again for the rest of the day." His father's voice was low and threatening. Ryuga had pushed him one step too far this time.

Biting back a snappish retort that he normally wouldn't see Ryuga for the rest of the day because it was a Thursday and so there was no 'family' dinner scheduled until tomorrow, Ryuga stormed past Ryuto and up the stairs to his room.

Behind him, his father's office door slammed shut.

.

Breathless and bruised, Ryuto slowly picked himself up from the hall floor and stared in horror at the closed door, trying to blink back the tears that were gathering in the corners of his eyes.

"Ryuga, what have you done now?" he whispered.

Because these chapters are way longer than the Prisoner's chapters, they take forever to write. Plus, all the Prisoner's chapters are kind of written already... Anyway, I'm going to try and get the next chapter of Spirit Of The Beast out next, then one of the Awakenings requests, but after that you'll have to wait until after my January deadlines for more - though I will post the next chapter of this relatively soon, I promise!