Chapter 10: The origin
He stared out of the window of his apartment. It was a small dingy place but it served the purpose. It was funny that he had a perfectly beautiful home here in the city yet he was living in the apartment. But then again, the residents of the house were not ready for his return. Well some of them at least. His thoughts wandered back to Tyson. He could still picture the confusion, the hurt, the anger on his face when he saw who was coaching BEGA. Hiro wished Tyson was smart enough to understand why he did it. But then again this is Tyson we are talking about.
He often wondered if others felt the same way as Tyson did. They couldn't understand why he was doing what he was. All except Kai ofcourse. And Kai would never rush to his defense. He would rather let others live with their theories. But then again he wasn't exactly easy on Kai. He never understood why he didn't like Kai. Maybe it's because you can't understand him Hiro and that scares you, the voice in his head spoke. Hiro shook his head, he understood Kai well enough but his power was what scared him at times. Even Kai doesn't know what he is capable of as his thoughts went back to Brooklyn. He shook his head again. What happened happened and he has to forget the past to focus on the future.
After the destruction of BEGA, he went back to his father. His father was as usual absorbed in his study of the ancient beasts. He spent a lot of time thinking of what he needs to do now. Spent a lot of time beyblading and he slowly saw the effects of BEGA seeping in. Once he could find loads of kids to train, loads of kids who would want to learn. Now the streets were empty, beyblade hobby shops were shutting down. The world was moving on. But he couldn't. He couldn't let go of beyblading and just move on. Sure he could be an archeologist, he could be a researcher but he didn't want all that. He remembered his time as a teenager when beyblading was new. How he was one of the first few to master the game, to harness the power of an ancient beast. Since then all he ever thought about was beyblading. How many years he spent travelling, teaching the sport. Tyson; his finest work in the matter. He had built Tyson into what he was. And now it was all slipping away as he watched.
And so he decided he wasn't going to give up without a fight. He would give one last shot to bring the sport back to what it was. He called up the one man he knew would help, Mr. D. And so they planned. He called in a few favors, one of which was currently roaming the streets of this city and quite possibly cursing him. The idea was to redo what he had done years ago. Take beyblade to the masses. Take blading to the street. To stop all the fancy events and championships. In short to take it back to the origin. But they needed to figure out who will be capable to pull off such a thing. He couldn't do it by himself. And so they put all their energies into figuring out the ultimate team. Not just skill but attitude, those who understood the game but also played it to the fullest; those to whom it meant more than a game; those who would want to see it come back. And now they knew who they were. The only question was will they do it?