Chapter One

The Granger Dojo

Steph Summers stood outside the wooden gates of the Granger Dojo, her suitcase in one hand and her phone clutched tightly in the other as she debated the proper etiquette for announcing her arrival. The former Bladebreaker had never used the entrance to the house itself, but rather the rear entrance via the Dojo, where her best friend and teammate, Tyson, was usually found practicing in the yard. Under any other circumstance, ringing the bell seemed unnaturally formal, but was using the back door acceptable when you hadn't seen the aforementioned best friend in over a year?

Fourteen months had passed since she and her bitbeast, Seraphina, had stood alongside Tyson and the Bladebreakers against the BEGA league. Together, they had defeated BEGA's top five, outed Boris Balkov as a criminal, and helped to reinstate the BBA as the governing Beyblade body in Japan.

It wasn't exactly a small accomplishment for a group of rag tag teenagers, and after three years working to expose B.I.O.V.O.L.T, each of the Bladebreakers had decided to go on a temporary hiatus.

Tyson had spent a year abroad, studying in America with Max. Ray had returned to the White Tigers, while Kenny had taken an intership with the BBA's beyblade development program. Steph had moved to London to live with her dad, a law professor at Oxford, while Becky had stayed in Rome. And Kai ... well none of them had heard from Kai since his match with Tyson.

It had been the longest any of them had been apart since they first formed the Bladebreakers, and Steph was both excited and nervous about seeing her friends again.

"Why are you just standing there?" The loud voice snapped Steph out of her riviere and she turned to see her younger cousin and teammate struggling up the stone steps with her luggage. "I could use some help here!"

Jet-lagged, with her usually neat blonde hair in disarray, Rebecca Carter dragged not one or two, but four suitcases behind her. It wasn't like Becky to travel light, after all, especially when travelling transcontinental from Italy.

For the next year, the two girls would be calling the Dojo home while they attended the prestigious Bakuten Academy, an international high school where each of the Bladebreakers had been offered a scholarship with their return to the Japanese team. At seventeen, this would be Steph's last year competing as a Junior beyblader. At the end of the year, she should have to decide if she was going to continue beyblading professionally, or if she was going to retire and go off to college instead.

Tucking her phone into her pocket, Steph hurried down the steps to help her cousin. She grabbed one of the suitcases and was taken aback by the shear weight of it. "Tell me again why the movers couldn't do this?" she asked.

"The movers aren't coming until next week!" the younger girl reminded her as they struggled up the steps. "I'd like to see how you're going to survive a whole week on one suitcase."

Somehow, as she glanced at her lone suitcase, Steph suspected her cousin may have a point. Unfortunately, most of her wardrobe, while fitting for a warm Italian summer, was far too light for the milder Japanese climate - she would have to do some shopping for a winter wardrobe to fend off the cold months ahead.

Rather than admit Becky may be right, however, Steph said lightly; "Japanese high schools have uniforms."

"Don't remind me," Becky said, rolling her eyes. With a heave of effort, she dragged her remaining suitcases towards the rear of the dojo. "What are you waiting for?" she called.

Through the back it was then, Steph decided. Front doors were overrated anyway.

The Dojo hadn't changed in the year she'd been away. Inside the wooden gates of the compound were two buildings; the main house was a two storey traditional style Japanese house with a gabled roof while the Dojo stood separated from main house by a gravel path and a garden of dormant cherry blossom trees.

It was a late bloom this year, she thought to herself. In Tokyo, the cherry blossoms bloomed in early April, but here in Bakuten, which sat further south of the capital city, there were usually in full bloom by late March. It would be a treat to see them in bloom these year, since she often missed sakura season during her brief trips to Japan.

"Looks like Grandpa planted some new bonsai trees," Becky said as they walked, her suitcases rolling noisily behind her. Everyone, even if they weren't related to him addressed Ryu Kinomiya as 'Grandpa'.

At the rear of the dojo, a teenage boy of about Steph's age was sprawled on the grass, one arm draped over his face, blocking the sun from his eyes. A blue and white baseball cap lay discarded on the grass next to him, and a few meters away, in a small, shallow beystadium that had seen more than its fair share of beybattles, a familiar white beyblade was spinning.

"Glad to see you're slacking off as usual," Steph said, feeling a smile tugging at her lips.

The teenager's eyes shot open and he scrambled to his feet. "Steph! Becky! When did you get here?

Tyson Granger, the three-time Japanese World Champion had certainly grown up in the year since the BEGA tournament. He was taller and lankier than Steph remembered. His navy hair had grown longer and unrulier and he had filled out in the shoulders, but the sheepish grin and the excitement filled brown eyes were exactly as she remembered them.

"About five minutes ago," she told him. "Our flight was delayed in Amsterdam so we were - " she stopped short, feeling the wind knocked out of her as he reached over unexpectedly and pulled both girls into a tight hug.

"Tyson," Becky exclaimed in protest. "You're pulling on my hair." Delightedly, Tyson squeezed his arms around them even tighter.

For as long as they had been teammates, Tyson had derived a certain amount of pleasure from good-naturedly antagonising the younger girl, similar to that way one might antagonise a much loved sibling. Steph couldn't be certain, but she though she heard his voice catch when he said; "It's good to have you home."

She smiled softly. "It's good to be home," she agreed.

"You know what's also good," Becky muttered, her voice muffled beneath Tyson's arm. "Oxygen!"

With a sheepish grin, Tyson released them both. Becky's hands instantly went to her hair, adjusting the carefully styled curls to sit around her shoulders once again. Tyson leaned back, as though examining both of them, and his grin. "Steph, have you gotten shorter?"

Steph glowered at him. Tyson had said that to her every time she had returned to Japan. It wasn't her fault that she had stopped growing over two years ago while he continued to shoot up like an over fertilised tree.

Before she could complain however, Becky said; "is that Dragoon?"

At the mention of his beyblade, Tyson's brown eyes lit up. "Sure is," he said. He reached out his hand, and the white beyblade revolved once on the spot, then returned to his hand. Proudly, he held it out for both girls to see. "The Chief rebuilt it after my last battle with Dranzer. We call it Dragoon MF."

Dragoon had undergone a number of modifications over the years, and this latest model was no disappointment. The new HMS system beyblades were twenty percent smaller than their previous beyblades, and made of entirely metal. Steph could see that Kenny had tweaked the attack ring and weight disk from the previous model to make it slightly more balanced. In the centre of the beyblade, the emblem of Dragoon shimmered in the sunlight.

"Is that a new running core?" Steph observed, feeling a bit jealous. She had made some minor tweaks to both Seraphina and Ophelia since, but she would have to annoy the Chief for a fresh build if Tyson had one.

"Yep! It's the Chief's latest model!" Tyson told them excitedly.

Behind them, the shoji door to the dojo opened and Steph felt herself grin when she saw the old Japanese man step out into the yard, a Kendo stick balanced carefully on his shoulder.

"Welcome home, girls," he said, then turned to his grandson with a frown. "Bro, where are your manners?" Grandpa had picked up a fair few American phrases over the years, and it was humorous to hear them spoken with a thick Japanese accent. "Help the girls take their things to their room."

Eagerly, Tyson scooped up his cap and placed it on his head, backwards of course. Then he held out his hands and took one of the two suitcases Steph was holding. Becky happily offloaded another one of hers. "Come on," he said, leading them inside. "Grandpa's been so excited you're staying here. We cleared out Dad's study - he hardly uses it anymore."

Struggling with the two suitcases, he nudged the back door open with his foot and held it open for them, revealing the Granger's kitchen and living room.

"Shoes," Steph reminded her cousin, slipping off her own and stepping into the kitchen, her suitcase catching on an old, loose floorboard.

The kitchen was small and and cramped, but it was exactly how Steph had remembered it, from the old clock on the wall with its faded numbers to the wonky chairs around a wooden table where Tyson would eat at least three bowls of cereal before heading out for practice. The living room on the other hand, was spaciously built in traditional Japanese style, with a short legged table in the centre of the room surrounded by traditional cushions. The TV was on and tuned to the local sports channel; in the off-season Tyson and Hiro liked to watch soccer. A single photo frame sat beside the TV with a photo of their mother, Yoshie.

"Grandpa brought some cereal for breakfast," Tyson told them, pointing to the cupboards above the kitchen sink. "Yes, we have coffee," he added hastily, interrupting Steph before she could even ask. The lack of coffee culture in Japan compared to Italy had always been a sour point for her.

"Reruns of Takeshi's Castle are on at five, Grandpa gets the TV then - but there's another TV in my room. There's some pretty good game shows on after dinner too."

A narrow staircase on the opposite side of the kitchen lead to the second floor. Tyson rolled their suitcases across the living room. "Geez, Bec, did you bring half of Rome with you?" he remarked as he heaved one of the pink suitcases up the steps.

"Ha, very funny Tyson," Becky said as she followed him up the stairs with her much lighter carry on. Steph was careful not to bump the walls with her suitcase as she followed.

"Daichi called this morning," Tyson was saying. The younger and last member of their team had returned to his hometown a few months after the BEGA match. "His mom is doing much better, so he might be able to visit over the term break."

They had reached the first floor landing, where the staircase opened up into a long corridor that was barely wider than the stairs themselves. "That's Grandpa's room," Tyson pointed to each of the doors one by one as they passed. "My room … Hiro's room … oh, there's only one bathroom."

A look of horror crossed Becky's face at this. Steph knew all to well that Becky's morning routine was sacred. Neither of the girls could describe themselves as morning people, but while Steph was usually satisfied if she at least had caffeine in hand in the morning, a Becky without appropriate pampering time was a very unhappy Becky indeed.

"I'll make a bathroom schedule," Steph said hastily. "You're fine with that, right Tyson?"

Tyson shrugged his shoulders. "Works for me," he said. "Come on. The study's on the third floor." Becky still looked slightly apprehensive as she followed him down the corridor and Tyson updated them on the movements of the rest of their teammates.

"Max came home last week," he said, stopping to lift Becky's suitcase up the second set of stairs at the end of the hall. "His mom and dad moved back into the Hobby shop with baby Charlie." Charlotte Tate was a year old, and from what Steph and Becky had seen in pictures, the splitting image of her older brother.

"Ray's flight landed yesterday," Tyson went on. "And I got an email from Kai last week - he was still in Russia, but he promised he'd be back before school starts."

If it wasn't for Becky accidentally knocking her carry on into the stair railing with a thud, Steph might have thought mention of their former captain had gone unheard. Tyson, however, didn't notice - he had gone on to explain how he and the Chief had been working on Dragoon all summer, tweaking it to perfection.

The stairs creaked as he heaved Becky's luggage to the top of the landing. Their bedroom wasn't a study by most standards, but rather a large room with a sloped ceiling at one end and a large gable fronted dormer window at the other. There were two beds on either side of the room and a small wardrobe each (Becky was going to find it very hard to fit all her clothes in), and someone had pushed two small desks up against the wall opposite the doorway.

"It's not much," Tyson said, and Steph got the sense he was feeling rather embarrassed. "Grandpa is going to put up some curtains, and Hiro fixed the heater. There's a spare bookcase in the garage we can bring up - "

"It's cosy," Steph interjected. While the Summer's home in Rome wasn't nearly as elaborate as the Tornatore Manor, Steph had never had to share a bedroom before. Sharing one with Becky and her numerous suitcases would certainly be a challenge.

"The bookcase would be nice," Becky piped up. "I don't want to be buried under all of Steph's books."

"I don't have that many books," Steph corrected her.