Umm….warnings…. I've never written a Beyblade fanfic before, so please bare with me.
This takes place after G-Revolution. I haven't seen all of that season (just up to ep 44) yet so some things might be inconsistent. I'm pretty sure PPB stands for Project Power Beyblade. A lot of the characters have no last names, so I have given them last names. Mwahahah! Fear me!
Shounen ai. There is no shounen ai in this chapter, but there will probably be some later on. No set pairings yet.
And I would like to give a BIG THANK YOU To my friend suppikerochans for coming up with the STAB acronym.
Disclaimer: I own three Beyblade manga's, thirteen dvd's, a bunch of vhs tapes with recorded episodes, an ugly season 1 pencil board, a pen, and three beyblades, but sadly, I don't own beyblade itself. ;;
Project S.T.A.B.
The screen of the computer shone a dim light across the dark room. He silently read the small words written across the screen. A picture beside each name.
Name: Takao "Tyson" Kinomiya
Age: 16
Sex: Male
Beyblade: Dragoon
Style: Attack
Name: Kai Hiwatari
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Beyblade: Dranzer
Style: Attack-Endurance Combination
Name: Rei Kon
Age: 18
Sex: Male
Beyblade: Driger
Style: Attack-Defense-Endurance Combination
Name: Max Mizuhara
Age: 16
Sex: Male
Beyblade: Draceil
Style: Defense
Each was smiling in their picture; even Kai had one faintly gracing his face. Team G-Revolutions. Or rather, the original Bladebreakers. His eyes rested on Kai's smug expression. He turned the monitor off.
The grass was green, the sky was blue, and the sun glared down upon two boys that had the audacity to stare back. Tyson Kinomiya and Max Mizuhara lay sprawled out on the grass, their bright eyes on the sky.
"It's nice to have a break once in a while," Max said, stifling a yawn. It had been three months since the BEGA Justice 5 tournament and the organization of the sport of Beyblade was still a mess.
Tyson smirked, running a hand through his thick black hair. "I'm bored. It's like there's always a tournament or someone trying to steal our bit beasts. And now…" He trailed off, plucking a blade of grass and proceeding to tear it to smithereens.
"It's too quiet," Max finished for him, turning his eyes toward the other boy.
Tyson met his gaze. "Yeah. Like something has to happen. And not necessarily good."
Max nodded. "Yeah. I know what you mean." A short silence ensued between them, only interrupted by the ringing of Max's cell phone.
Pulling it off of his belt loop and taking a quick glance he said, "It's my mom. She said she'd call when she needs me. Wants me to be her guinea pig for her new prototype blades." He forced a smile. "I almost want her to go back to the U.S. Isn't that horrible?" In the BBA's absense, Judy Tate had relocated to Japan for a year to study and observe the Japanese market for possibilities of expanding the PPB, as well as spend a little more time with Max. So she said.
Thinking back to the events from the American tournament three years earlier and the little trick she'd pulled on them, Tyson said, "No. Not at all. You could just ditch her and hang out with me all day." He gave a charming smile and nudged his friend in the side.
The blond laughed and pushed Tyson away. "I wish. But I should go." He stood. "See ya later, Tyson."
When he was alone Tyson laid himself back down on the soft earth. "It is definitely too quiet," he whispered.
"Maxie! You're finally here." Judy forced a smile in his direction then turned her attention back to the computer screen in front of her. "What took you so long?"
"I was at the park with Tyson," Max told her, taking a seat, looking around the cold, grey room with mild interest. How can she stand to spend all day in here?
"I told you I was going to need you today." She gave him a disapproving look before, once again, turning back to her precious data.
"And I came, didn't I?" he replied, more sharply than he'd intended. He was immediately sorry.
"We're attending the conference in a few minutes," she told him, shutting down the computer and walking over to him. She plucked a blade of grass from his hair. "I do wish you'd be more attentive of your appearance."
"So sorry."
The glare she gave him made him squirm in his seat. For a moment she said nothing. "It's time to go, Max. I'm really getting tired of this attitude of yours."
And I'm really getting tired of you, he thought.
"You've been hanging around Tyson too much," she told him, grabbing a briefcase and leading him out of the room and into an elevator. "You really should see less of that boy," she said, pushing the button for the ninth floor.
The sixteen-year-old gritted his teeth in frustration. Don't say it, Max. Whatever you do, don't say it.
After an eternity it seemed, they reached their destination. The other members of the All Starz-Rick, Michael, Eddy, and Emily-were already present, as were several men in suits Max had never seen before.
"What's all this about?" he asked his mother in a hushed tone.
"I'll explain everything in a few minutes. Go have a seat beside Michael." She proceeded to set up her presentation.
The blond sighed and did as his mother said. "Do you have any idea what's going on?" he asked Michael, the handsome former captain, who was for once without his trademark baseball cap.
"No clue." Michael ran his hands through his silky orange hair. "It would be nice if she told us what she had planned for us once in a while," he said, annoyance creeping into his voice.
Rick gave a grunt in agreement.
"What about you?" Max asked Emily, his mother's mousy assistant.
Emily flashed him a knowing smile, pushing her glassed up her nose with a single finger, and said nothing.
I don't like this. I don't like this at all.
Several more men arrived and Judy began her presentation. Max noticed Mr. Dickenson was not among them.
"Thank you all for coming," she began. "I am Judy Tate, president of the Project Power Beyblade organization. I have invited you all here today for the demonstration of a new Beyblade."
There were murmurs in the crowd, not all good ones, either. Apparently his mother didn't warrant much respect from these men.
"Now, Max, Emily, please join me," she said, pushing a button on the wall. The back wall divided, exposing another room and a beydish inside it.
"Max, give me Draceil."
Obediently, he took his most prized possession and handed it to his mother. "This is Max's Draceil. It is the same blade he used in the BEGA Justice 5 Tournament. It has been repaired, but no modifications have been made. Nonetheless, it is a very powerful beyblade." She handed it back to Max.
"Emily."
Emily dutifully took out her blade and gave it to Judy.
"This is our new prototype." She gave it back to Emily, who held it with a near reverence.
"Emily Smythe is statistically the PPB All Starz weakest player. Max Mizuhara is statistically the strongest, as well as being one of the best bladers in the world, as you have undoubtedly seen in both last year's World Championship and the BEGA Justice 5 Tournament. Now let us begin. Emily. Max." She gestured for them to go to the dish.
Emily walked towards it, a gleeful smile on her lips. "Come on, Max."
He hesitated. He didn't like this. I'm won't lose, he told himself.
He stepped up to the dish, pulling out his launcher. But I don't like this at all.
"Daichi!" Tyson's grandfather's booming voice rang out. "That hot mama's here for you again."
Daichi groaned in annoyance, turning off Tyson's television. She was here again? What did she want with him?
"Hello, Daichi." She appeared in the doorway, wearing yet another one of her frilly, lacey, cuter-than-cute outfits.
He forced a smile. "Hi, Ming Ming. I was just going to go out for a walk. That way. Sorry we can't hang out."
She smiled back, tilting her head to one side. "That's okay, Daichi, I'll go with you."
"Um…" He scratched his head, trying to think of something quick. "I'm going to meet Kenny. We're hanging out today. It's been a while since I've seen him, so…"
"Oh, that's okay. Kenny can come with us. My driver will drive us." She linked her arm with his and pulled him out of the dojo.
Daichi's last view of what had become his home was Grandpa smiling at him, giving him a thumbs up. Couldn't the guy tell when he needed help!
Ming Ming pulled him into her limousine, oblivious to his struggling. "Tommy, take us to Kenny Amada's house."
"Yes, madame," Tommy replied monotonously.
Daichi squirmed uncomfortably as Ming Ming leered over him smiling. "I've really missed you, you know."
"It's only been four days."
Ming Ming sighed, settling into the seat at last. "I know. After we pick up Kenny, let's buy you a new pair of pants, ok." She patted his bare knee, smiling.
Daichi squirmed uncomfortably again. This has got to be wrong, he thought.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, they arrived at Amada Noodles. Daichi practically leaped out of the car and into Kenny's parent's noodle restaurant. He ran up the stairs and, breathless, latched on to Kenny's leg. "Save me."
The brunette looked down from his computer screen, at the younger boy now clutching his leg for dear life. "Daichi?" he asked, concern dripping into his voice. "What are you doing?"
"Save me please!"
"Daichi," a high-pitched voice squealed from downstairs. "Where are you?"
"Ming Ming?" Kenny squeaked. "Here? In my house?" He proceeded to make a noise that was somewhere between a giggle and cry.
"Are you up here?" she called, climbing the stairs.
"Hi, Ming Ming!" Kenny choked. "We're in mymy room!"
She came inside. "Oh, wow!" she exclaimed at the site of Kenny's life sized poster of her. "Is my butt really that big? What do you think, Daichi?"
"Um…yeah."
She laughed and skipped over to him. "Oh, you. You have such a sense of humor." She paused, giving him an adoring smile. "Kenny, Daichi and I are going shopping. Would you like to come with us?"
"Would I?" For a minute he couldn't speak. "I-I-Anything for you, Ming Ming."
"Okay." She smiled.
"You know, Ming Ming," Daichi began, when they were seated in the limo, "you're pretty famous. Aren't there going to be a lot of people following you around? Maybe we shouldn't go."
"Oh, don't be silly," she laughed, "I rented out the store just for us."
She linked arms with him once again. "How old are you, anyway?"
"Umm…twelve."
Ming Ming squealed. "I'm fourteen. You know, two years is really nothing when you think about it."
"Yeah, okay."
Kenny sat up. "I'm sixteen. That makes me two years older than you."
Ignoring him, Ming Ming leaned in closer to the terrified redhead. "So, Daichi, what's your favorite color?"
Tyson walked into the dojo slowly. It sucked having nothing to do! Max was with his mother, Rei had gone back home to China, and Kai was-as always-nowhere to be found. He had hoped Kai would change a little after the last tournament. But no, of course not.
Maybe Daichi would do some training with him.
"Hey, Grandpa, where's Daichi?" "
The little dude went out with his hot mama again?"
"Ming Ming?"
"Yeah, that pretty little thing."
Tyson threw himself on his bed and stared at the ceiling.
