The night after Zhaila's win was the most comfortable evening of her teenage life. She was given a room in the same hotel as the other competitors, and been fed an incredible selection of food in a large dining area. It was odd, sitting in a room designed to hold hundreds, all by herself. She ate what she could, and apologised to her escort for her lack of appetite.

'That's quite all right, madam. I am sure you're just tired. It has been a long day for you. I'll show you your room, and you can get some rest,' he said, gesturing for her to follow him down the hall.

She nodded, and followed him. Though, in truth, she wasn't tired in the least. He led her down several beautifully decorated halls, up several flights of stairs, and finally to a polished wooden door with the bronze plated number 415 mounted in the centre. He apologised for the smaller room, then bid her goodnight and handed her a key card.

She opened the door and gawped around the room for a moment. Small?! It was huge. Straight in front of her was a deep leather sofa facing towards a mounted flat screen TV. Beyond that she could see a door leading to the bathroom. To her right was an open plan kitchen area, with a small dining table and chairs.

But she was most interested in the door to the top right of the room. The bedroom. She placed her hand on the handle, and took a breath before opening it wide. Against the back wall was a king-size bed, complete with winter duvet and a mountain of pillows. Without hesitation, she threw herself onto it. It was even softer than she imagined, and she relished in the moment. It had been months since she slept on a proper bed, never mind one as luxurious as this.

Kicking off her shoes, she wriggled up to rest on the pillows. As she did so, she noticed the window to the right. A three pained bay window, complete with window seat and cushion. Outside, she saw it was snowing. She moved towards the window, perching on the edge of the seat.

She was surprised at what she saw. The ground was fast covered in a white blanket. A good inch or so of fresh white powder sat snugly on the windowsill on the other side of the glass. A brief snow shower was common in winter, and it was the end of November. But she had lived in England for nearly 5 years and it had never stuck so well before.

She felt suddenly compelled to go outside. It was a childish, but joyous urge, and she decided to indulge it. She grabbed her shoes, and headed back down the hall way.

It didn't take her long to find her way back to the main entrance, and she wandered off down streets she wasn't familiar with. The best way to learn a new area is, of course, to explore it.

The snow continued to fall, making more and more difficult to walk through. Apparently, nobody was expecting the sudden wintry weather, and the roads hadn't been salted. They where quickly becoming overrun with the snow, and the drivers where panicking. Zhaila decided to take the back roads.

She wasn't sure how long she was wandering before she found it, but her feet where becoming numb to the cold. She stumbled into an abandoned bus station. It looked like a new one had been build, and nobody had gotten round to demolishing the original.

The roof was tall, but covered, so the snow couldn't get under here. She shook the remnant snow from her shoes, and moved further under her temporary shelter. It was large and empty, and her footsteps echoed loudly against the stone columns.

Towards the back of the structure was a single, tattered wooden bench. Zhaila sat and enjoyed the silence. She could see the chaos out on the main roads on either side of the building, but this far back should could only heard the muted rumble of the traffic. She closed her eyes, and relaxed.

Then there was something else. She didn't look up, but listened carefully. Footsteps. More than one pair of footsteps. Now she looked. Two silhouettes stood at the exit to her left, and to her right was a girl about the same age as her. She wore a simple jumper and denim jeans, and had adopted an aggressive stance.

'Can I help you?' Zhaila called, to no response.

She stepped towards the girl. In any case, she was surrounded. If she needed to make a break for it, it would be easier to evade one person, even if she was the ring leader. As Zhai approached, the girl produced a beyblade and launcher, and prepared to launch.

'Oh, It's a battle you want. Well, far be it for me to deny you,' she called, pulling her own blade from her pocket.

She was about to let rip when another blade shot past her, and crashed to the feet of the girl. She gestured to the others, and then ran. Zhaila followed the blade trajectory backwards. It had come from above and behind her. She scanned the wall, and just as she spotted the hole at the far end, a figure jumped out of it.

It was a boy, a similar age to herself, with two-toned blue hair. He didn't look at her, but walked past and retrieved his beyblade. He pocketed it, and then moved towards the main road. Zhai followed him.

'Erm… Thanks, I guess,' she said. He didn't answer. 'Might've struggled to take three out at once.'

Still nothing. She noticed he was heading back towards the hotel.

'You one of the competitors in the tourney?' she asked.

This time he nodded. Well, at least he wasn't completely ignoring her. Good, it was a start. And she followed him back to the hotel in silence.