Tyson stared at the wall, arms propped up behind his head. He picked up tennis ball that was resting on his bedside table, and threw it at the wall. It bounced off the wall and back towards Tyson, who automatically caught it in the palm of his hand like he would his Beyblade.
Why was he always shooting is mouth off? Why for once could he not have taken his own advice and shut up? Angrily, he chucked the ball harder than before. It richocheted off of the wall and hit his championship trophy, knocking it to the ground.
He sighed, not bothering to pick it up.
"What's up, sport?" a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Hey, Max," Tyson sighed, staring at the ceiling.
We were just going to go out to the park and street-blade," Max offered. "You know we could use some practice. We also haven't bladed with the gangsters and punks out on the street for awhile. It will be a healthy change of pace."
"Yeah," Ray agreed, entering the room. He pulled his yin-and-yang headband over his head, discreetly checking the mirror as he did so. "You know, we might start getting a snobby I'm-too-good-to-blade-with-you rep."
"I guess we could use some warming up for the big tournament," Tyson replied slowly. He sat up and felt for his familiar baseball cap. "I say let's do it."
"Feel the wrath of my Bit Beast," the tall, punk kid sneered. His launcher was a metallic black, and his blade was just as dark. "You'll hear your blade grind beneath Dariye's metal."
"I wouldn't talk so fast," Ray countered, holding up Driger.
"Don't knock me until you've tried me punk! Let it rip!" The kid yanked on his rip cord, sending Dariye spinning violently into the Beystadium.
Ray released Driger, and the combat began. A small group of curious bystanders tactfully edged their way over, peering diplomatically at the battle.
Max nudged Tyson. "This has to be the least enthusiastic crowd of bladers I've ever seen!" he chuckled.
Tyson ignored him, enthralled by the fight. Ray's fist was clenched tightly, and he grit his teeth. "What's your name, punk?" he managed to say.
His opponent snickered. "The name's Ray...yours?"
That snared Ray's focus. "Huh?" he exclaimed, confused. Driger began wobbling slightly.
"He's bluffing you, Ray! Focus!" Tyson shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"Yeah!" Max agreed. "Keep your concentration steady."
"Dariye, emerge!" Ray's opponent shouted. The Bladebreakers stared in awe as his Bit Beast took shape. It was in the form of a great shark, with glittering, hungry eyes. "Take this wimp down!"
"Driger!" Ray exclaimed. "Dodge it! Do what you can!"
Driger swerved out of Dariye's first attack, but was hit when the blade did an unexpected turn and came back a second time.
"Driger!" Ray sounded desperate.
In a flash of light, Ray's cat-like Bit Beast emerged, and rampaged towards the shark-like creature. The two Bit Beasts collided.
Tyson and Max shielded their eyes from the light, and the explosion even brought a gasp from the bystanders.
"Enough!" A voice boomed overtop of the chaos. Suddenly, everything was silent. A lone figure stepped into the square.
"Taber," Tyson whispered.
Slowly, the smoke around Ray and Ray's opponent cleared. Both Blades had been grounded and lay on their sides.
"What gives you right to break up our battle?" Ray's opponent sneered at Taber.
Taber just snickered. "Your 'battle' was already over, Nuchi. I guess your skills of observation haven't improved much since way back when."
Nuchi grit his teeth, and his faced turned several hues of red. "You just think you're a know-it-all."
A crooked smile creeped over Taber's face. "I guess you haven't heard, Nuchi. Things have changed since our grade school days. I happen to be a part of an official Beyblading team, and we're entered into the upcoming World Tournament. And we're going to win, too."
"Not so fast!" Tyson exclaimed, thoroughly outraged. He jumped in between Taber and Nuchi. "You aren't winning anything if the Bladebreakers have anything to say about it."
"Ah." Taber peered down at Tyson. "Let me inform you of something. The Bladebreakers are wimps. They're insects. When they disbanded years ago, the world knew that it had one less wanna-be team to deal with."
"The team may have broken up years ago, but the ties of friendship hasn't!" a new voice interrupted.
"Hilary!" Tyson exclaimed.
Hilary marched towards them, and shoved Tyson out of the way, taking a stand before Taber. "And there's nothing you can say or do about it!"
Tyson rubbed his backside, where he had landed. I guess Hilary hasn't completely gotten over that little episode, he thought painfully.
Taber snickered. "The ties of friendship still remains!" he mocked in an exaggerated high voice. "I'm shaking in my boots." He bent down and looked Hilary in the eye. "Look, little girl. Your cute sayings won't help your little boyfriends win the tournament."
Hilary didn't reply; she just slapped Taber across the face. Hard.
The Bladebreakers walked down the streets, none of them wanting to make the first move towards a conversation. Tyson was stationed a couple feet behind the rest of his teammates, hands stuffed in his pockets. He kicked a stone along the sidewalk, lost in thought.
Ray and Max walked side-by-side in front of him, glancing about themselves curiously. Hilary walked slightly in front, a defiant look on her face. Kai was nowhere to be seen.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to show Taber that he can't push us around," Max finally said.
His comment was greeted by a low murmur of uh-huhs, rights, and sures. He sighed. Why did he even bother.
"That hit must have stung, Hilary," Ray joked.
"Not really," Hilary replied. "There wasn't much impact, because his head is completely and thoroughly hollow."
"He had no right," Tyson murmured.
Everyone ignored him.
"Where's Kai?" Max asked. That was the universal question that one of them always asked when they had nothing better to talk about.
"Never mind about Kai," Hilary replied. "The stray dog will find his way home."
Meanwhile, Kai was sitting on a park bench, kicking pigeons away if they got too close. Although Kai wasn't usually affectionate, he found himself missing the Roulettes more and more lately.
"Why do I feel this way?" he whispered to himself. Instantly, he knew the answer. He had taken in those bladers as amateurs and beginners, and turned them into what they are today; Bladers on the road to victory. He felt a pang of emotion when he realized that the Roulettes could miss the European Junior Tournament on the account of this.
On the account of what? Feuds, broken friendships, lunatic rivals, and out-of-wack emotions.
There's still time. There's still time. The European Junior is still accepting applications. There's still time.
Should he leave the Bladebreakers now? The way things were heading now, he wouldn't feel guilty at all.
There's still time.
The mantra kept pulsing through his mind, and each beat flooded his mind with images of the Roulettes.
There's still time.
Why was he always shooting is mouth off? Why for once could he not have taken his own advice and shut up? Angrily, he chucked the ball harder than before. It richocheted off of the wall and hit his championship trophy, knocking it to the ground.
He sighed, not bothering to pick it up.
"What's up, sport?" a familiar voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Hey, Max," Tyson sighed, staring at the ceiling.
We were just going to go out to the park and street-blade," Max offered. "You know we could use some practice. We also haven't bladed with the gangsters and punks out on the street for awhile. It will be a healthy change of pace."
"Yeah," Ray agreed, entering the room. He pulled his yin-and-yang headband over his head, discreetly checking the mirror as he did so. "You know, we might start getting a snobby I'm-too-good-to-blade-with-you rep."
"I guess we could use some warming up for the big tournament," Tyson replied slowly. He sat up and felt for his familiar baseball cap. "I say let's do it."
"Feel the wrath of my Bit Beast," the tall, punk kid sneered. His launcher was a metallic black, and his blade was just as dark. "You'll hear your blade grind beneath Dariye's metal."
"I wouldn't talk so fast," Ray countered, holding up Driger.
"Don't knock me until you've tried me punk! Let it rip!" The kid yanked on his rip cord, sending Dariye spinning violently into the Beystadium.
Ray released Driger, and the combat began. A small group of curious bystanders tactfully edged their way over, peering diplomatically at the battle.
Max nudged Tyson. "This has to be the least enthusiastic crowd of bladers I've ever seen!" he chuckled.
Tyson ignored him, enthralled by the fight. Ray's fist was clenched tightly, and he grit his teeth. "What's your name, punk?" he managed to say.
His opponent snickered. "The name's Ray...yours?"
That snared Ray's focus. "Huh?" he exclaimed, confused. Driger began wobbling slightly.
"He's bluffing you, Ray! Focus!" Tyson shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth.
"Yeah!" Max agreed. "Keep your concentration steady."
"Dariye, emerge!" Ray's opponent shouted. The Bladebreakers stared in awe as his Bit Beast took shape. It was in the form of a great shark, with glittering, hungry eyes. "Take this wimp down!"
"Driger!" Ray exclaimed. "Dodge it! Do what you can!"
Driger swerved out of Dariye's first attack, but was hit when the blade did an unexpected turn and came back a second time.
"Driger!" Ray sounded desperate.
In a flash of light, Ray's cat-like Bit Beast emerged, and rampaged towards the shark-like creature. The two Bit Beasts collided.
Tyson and Max shielded their eyes from the light, and the explosion even brought a gasp from the bystanders.
"Enough!" A voice boomed overtop of the chaos. Suddenly, everything was silent. A lone figure stepped into the square.
"Taber," Tyson whispered.
Slowly, the smoke around Ray and Ray's opponent cleared. Both Blades had been grounded and lay on their sides.
"What gives you right to break up our battle?" Ray's opponent sneered at Taber.
Taber just snickered. "Your 'battle' was already over, Nuchi. I guess your skills of observation haven't improved much since way back when."
Nuchi grit his teeth, and his faced turned several hues of red. "You just think you're a know-it-all."
A crooked smile creeped over Taber's face. "I guess you haven't heard, Nuchi. Things have changed since our grade school days. I happen to be a part of an official Beyblading team, and we're entered into the upcoming World Tournament. And we're going to win, too."
"Not so fast!" Tyson exclaimed, thoroughly outraged. He jumped in between Taber and Nuchi. "You aren't winning anything if the Bladebreakers have anything to say about it."
"Ah." Taber peered down at Tyson. "Let me inform you of something. The Bladebreakers are wimps. They're insects. When they disbanded years ago, the world knew that it had one less wanna-be team to deal with."
"The team may have broken up years ago, but the ties of friendship hasn't!" a new voice interrupted.
"Hilary!" Tyson exclaimed.
Hilary marched towards them, and shoved Tyson out of the way, taking a stand before Taber. "And there's nothing you can say or do about it!"
Tyson rubbed his backside, where he had landed. I guess Hilary hasn't completely gotten over that little episode, he thought painfully.
Taber snickered. "The ties of friendship still remains!" he mocked in an exaggerated high voice. "I'm shaking in my boots." He bent down and looked Hilary in the eye. "Look, little girl. Your cute sayings won't help your little boyfriends win the tournament."
Hilary didn't reply; she just slapped Taber across the face. Hard.
The Bladebreakers walked down the streets, none of them wanting to make the first move towards a conversation. Tyson was stationed a couple feet behind the rest of his teammates, hands stuffed in his pockets. He kicked a stone along the sidewalk, lost in thought.
Ray and Max walked side-by-side in front of him, glancing about themselves curiously. Hilary walked slightly in front, a defiant look on her face. Kai was nowhere to be seen.
"Well, I guess we'll just have to show Taber that he can't push us around," Max finally said.
His comment was greeted by a low murmur of uh-huhs, rights, and sures. He sighed. Why did he even bother.
"That hit must have stung, Hilary," Ray joked.
"Not really," Hilary replied. "There wasn't much impact, because his head is completely and thoroughly hollow."
"He had no right," Tyson murmured.
Everyone ignored him.
"Where's Kai?" Max asked. That was the universal question that one of them always asked when they had nothing better to talk about.
"Never mind about Kai," Hilary replied. "The stray dog will find his way home."
Meanwhile, Kai was sitting on a park bench, kicking pigeons away if they got too close. Although Kai wasn't usually affectionate, he found himself missing the Roulettes more and more lately.
"Why do I feel this way?" he whispered to himself. Instantly, he knew the answer. He had taken in those bladers as amateurs and beginners, and turned them into what they are today; Bladers on the road to victory. He felt a pang of emotion when he realized that the Roulettes could miss the European Junior Tournament on the account of this.
On the account of what? Feuds, broken friendships, lunatic rivals, and out-of-wack emotions.
There's still time. There's still time. The European Junior is still accepting applications. There's still time.
Should he leave the Bladebreakers now? The way things were heading now, he wouldn't feel guilty at all.
There's still time.
The mantra kept pulsing through his mind, and each beat flooded his mind with images of the Roulettes.
There's still time.