I reached into my bag and took out a small, ragged notebook. The pages inside of it were filled with scribbles and all sorts of geometric shapes.
Without waiting for the Bladebreakers behind me, I strolled off into an open patch of field. Flipping the notebook to the next blank page, I removed the pencil from the notebook's spine and wrote in the date. The page next to the blank one was filled with different angles that were either crossed off or circled. I sketched a new angle and set the book down. With one bound, I leapt into the air, twirled, and landed, throwing my legs in the angle that I had just sketched. Unfortunately, the angle was impossible to pull off. My feet slid and I instantly got a clear view of the blue sky overhead.
Climbing to my feet, I crossed out the angle and tried a new one. This time I landed it well and the angle was circled in my notebook. I might have looked crazy to any bystanders, but this was the method I had used to create powerful new attacks for Nyclix. Once more, I sketched another angle.
I kept practicing new angles and shapes until bruises covered most of my arms and sides. A few times, people had tried to interrupt me. Max, who wanted to know what I was up to; Hiro, who said it was dinner time; and an old gardener, who complained about me destroying the grass. I ignored all of them and continued practicing. Despite my best efforts, I still felt like I had too much energy even if I was exhausted.
As the sun started to disappear behind the horizon, I had to bring out my flashlight to see my paper. I squinted at the sketches and etched a circular shape. I jumped and started to twirl, but as I was about to land, someone swept my legs out from under me.
I gasped as the air was knocked out of my lungs. Opening and closing my mouth like a fish out of water, I eventually began to breathe again.
"What was that?" I snapped, looking around for my attacker.
"It's nine o' clock. You've been practicing for six hours," a voice said. "If you keep this up, you won't be ready for the tournament tomorrow." I shone my flashlight at the voice and found Kai's hard eyes glimmering like a cat's.
"I'm not tired yet," I lied. Kai snorted and grabbed my wrist, yanking me off the ground in a single move. I struggled to grab my things as he began pulling toward the building.
I tried to pull away, explaining that I still needed to work on a few of my moves, but Kai's grip was like iron.
"Why are you so strong?" I muttered, trying vainly to pry his fingers off my arm. Kai didn't glance in my direction.
"Because I don't waste my energy on worthless exercises for hours on end."
"How's what I'm doing any different than what you're doing?" I retorted, glaring at him. Kai met my gaze steadily.
"Exactly what I said before," he said, darkly. "I don't waste my energy on worthless exercises for hours on end." My eyes widened with shock, but I quickly recovered. My face hardened and my mouth twisted into a frown.
"And you care…why?" I asked, stopping suddenly. "Why does it matter to you what I spend my time on?" Kai dropped my wrist and half-turned to face me. He crossed his arms and stood silently for a moment.
"You're part of the team I have to beyblade with tomorrow. I'm not letting you wear yourself out the night before a match," Kai said coldly. Without another word, he turned and continued walking back to the research building.
I watched his silhouette – which was outlined starkly by the light from the building – slowly get smaller in the distance. Then I placed my pencil back into my notebook's spine and followed him.
I woke up as the morning light steadily flooded the room around my bed. Hilary and Emily slept peacefully in the beds next to me.
Yawning, I stretched and climbed out of my warm covers. Then I started in remembrance. Today was the beginning of the finals.
I grabbed Nyclix and dressed quickly. Attaching my ripcord to my belt, a hard task with only one fully functional hand, I strolled out the door. Turning into the hallway, I found Tyson and Max already up. I quickly learned that Rei, Kai, and Hiro were already eating breakfast. Though I was eager to join them, I was more concerned about the finals.
"Calm down, Sandy," Max laughed. "They aren't for another few hours. Shall we go eat?" The three of us hungrily set off for breakfast and were not disappointed by what we found.
The All-Star team had a large cafeteria with multiple lines for different food. I recognized every food I could imagine. There was bacon and eggs with piles of pancakes on one side, and waffles, fruit, and yogurt on the other. All sorts of bright, fresh colors gleamed from every plate. As I stacked buttered waffles and fruit on my plate, my stomach lurched uneasily. I sat down at the table with the rest of my team and realized that I wasn't actually that hungry.
The food smelled good, but the thought of eating made me gag. My mind randomly returned to the finals, sending an anxious jolt down my spine each time. The watch on my wrist seemed to tick slowly, steadily, inevitably toward the upcoming event. Tyson didn't act like he had a problem with this information and continued to shovel food into his stomach. I picked at my breakfast, glancing over at Hiro. Hiro suddenly sighed softly and leaned away from the table.
"Whenever you start looking at me like that, Sandy, there's usually something on your mind. What's bothering you?" Hiro asked. I stopped halfway through nibbling a strawberry, which was starting to resemble jam between my tense fingers. My teammates next to me looked over curiously. I blushed.
"Nothing much," I said. "I'm just nervous for the match."
"It will be fine," said Hiro. "You won't be 'blading anyway. I've decided to pull you from today's match."