BAM!
The stadium rattled as two Beyblades slammed into each other, sparks snapping at the point of impact.
"Too slow!" one of them said, leaning in with a grin. "You're losing control already!"
"Am I?" the other replied instantly, eyes sharp. "Then why are you the one getting pushed back?"
BAM!
The Beyblades crashed again, harder this time. One skidded toward the edge—tilted—then snapped back into spin.
"Yeah—that's what I thought," the second one smirked.
"Don't get cocky," the first fired back. "You haven't won anything
Behind them, stretched across the couch, a boy lay on his back with his arms tucked behind his head. His messy black hair, tipped faintly with red, slipped over his eyes as he watched.
He didn't move much. Just a lazy smirk, barely there.
You guys have been playing with those stupid spinning tops… what's so special about them, anyway?" he smirked.
Neither of them respond.
CLACK!
Another hard collision. The stadium shook again.
"Keep talking," one of them said through a grin. "You're about to lose this round."
"Say that again when yours stops wobbling," the other shot back immediately.
The boy on the couch tilted his head slightly, watching through half-lidded eyes.
"…It hits… spins… then hits again," he said slowly. "…That's it."
"Man, you're not even watching," one of them snapped, finally glancing back at him. "Look at the timing!"
"Yeah," the other added without looking away from the stadium, "you gotta catch the moment it loses balance—then hit it again."
CLASH!
Right on cue, one Beyblade knocked the other off-center. It scraped the stadium, almost tipping—
Sped back in.
"THERE! You saw that?!"
The boy's eyes followed it for a second longer this time. Just a second.
"I saw it—don't act like you planned that!"
Then he shrugged.
"You're hopeless," one of them said.
The boy pushed himself up slowly, stretching his arms with a quiet groan.
"Aight… I'm heading out. See you guys tomorrow at school."
"Now?" one of them said quickly. "This round's about to end!"
"Pretty sure you said that already," the boy replied, grabbing his bag.
He slung the bag over his shoulder and started toward the door while the battle kept going behind him.
CLASH!
"Don't miss it when I win!" …snapping the other one back to the battle that they were having.
"You? Win? Keep dreaming!"
The boy waved a hand lazily without turning around. "Yeah, yeah."
He pulled the door open—
whatever, Visor!" one of them said.
The door shut behind him.
The afternoon air was warm and slow.
He stepped onto the dirt road, hands sliding into the pockets of his loose red jacket, hanging open over a black shirt. The chain at his side gave a faint clink with every step.
clink… clink…
His messy hair shifted slightly as he kicked a small rock forward.
"…Still don't get it," he muttered.
The rock rolled. He kicked it again.
"…They just spin around and crash."
Another kick.
"…Why do people even like that?"
Up ahead, farmers worked quietly in the fields. Tools scraped against the ground in slow rhythm.
He glanced over as he passed.
"…You guys get it?" he shouted, throwing his hands up. "Seriously… what's so great about Beyblade?!"
He blushed and whipped his head away, hoping no one noticed.
too late
All of them were staring at him, eyebrows raised, mouths slightly open in confusion.
Never mind
He shook his head, smirking faintly. "Whatever."
By the time he reached his house, the sun was dipping low, painting the fields orange.
He took off his shoes at the entrance.
"I'm home."
"Mm."
From the living room—
"You're already here?"
A girl sat on the couch, long hair falling over her shoulders, a lollipop in her mouth while she held a game console. She didn't even look up.
"Mom told me to tell you to clean your room."
"…Of course she did."
She smirked slightly. "Try doing it this time, Visor."
He clicked his tongue. "…Yeah, yeah, Zono
"…I'll believe it when I see it."
Upstairs, his door creaked open.
Clothes everywhere. Books half-open. Random junk scattered.
Visor stared at it
... Man
He stepped in.
Dropped his bag.
Didn't pick up anything.
Flopped onto his bed.
"…I'll do it later."
He grabbed the remote off his bed.
Click
The TV exploded to life with a Beyblade battle—faster, sharper, completely different. Sparks snapped with every impact.
The crowd roared:
"GO! GO! GO!"
"BURST IT!"
"FINISH IT!"
The announcer's voice boomed:
"WHAT AN IMPACT!"
On screen stood a blader—
Kite Azoi.
Visor's eyes narrowed slightly.
"…Okay… this is way different from what I saw earlier…"
The opposing Beyblade lunged forward—hard—trying to end it.
"THIS IS IT!"
Kite didn't move.
"he leaned in closer.
His Beyblade dipped—barely—avoiding the hit.
Then curved back in.
Fast.
Precise
"HELL BREAKER!"
CRACK!
The opposing Beyblade burst apart mid-spin. Pieces flew across the stadium.
The referee called out:
"REQUIEM HADES WITH A BURST FINISH!"
A beat
"THE WINNER—KITE AZOI!"
The crowd exploded.
"Of course!" the announcer continued. "The world champion takes another win!"
Visor leaned forward slightly.
"…Okay."
A small grin formed.
"…That was actually crazy."
His foot tapped lightly. clink… clink…
The Replay rolled.
Timing. Control. Movement.
"…Yeah…"
His eyes stayed locked on the screen.
"…that's completely different."
Footsteps passed his door.
"Visor."
His mom's voice.
"I told your sister to tell you to clean your
room."
"…Didn't she tell you?"
Visor didn't look away from the TV.
"…She did."
Another clash echoed from the screen.
"…I'll do it."
He didn't move.
A pause.
"…Visor."
Still nothing.
"Visor."
"…Yeah?"
"Clean your room."
"…In a minute."
Silence.
Then—
THWACK!
Something smacked him straight in the side
of the head.
"…Ow—what the—?!"
A shoe dropped onto his bed.
He turned slowly toward the door.
His mother stood there, arms crossed,
completely unamused.
"I said," she said flatly, "clean your room.
Now."
Visor rubbed the side of his head, staring at the shoe.
"…You really threw that?"
"Yes."
"…You've got good aim."
"That wasn't even full force."
He paused.
"…That's kinda scary."
From the hallway—
A quiet snort.
Zono stood there, leaning against the wall,
watching the whole thing.
Then she burst out laughing.
"Pfft—"
She covered her mouth, failing immediately.
"You got hit!"
Visor shot her a look. "…You wanna be
next?"
She grinned. "Nah, I actually listen."
"…Fake."
His mom pointed toward the mess of a room.
"Now."
Visor sighed dramatically, dragging himself up off the bed like it physically hurt.
"…Yeah, yeah…"
He grabbed the shoe and tossed it lightly back toward the door.
"Next time aim for something important," he muttered.
"It was something important."
"…Wow. I feel valued."
Zono laughed again as he stepped past them.
Behind him, the TV still echoed—
Crowds cheering.
Beyblades clashing.
Visor paused for just a second.
Glanced back at the screen.
"…Yeah…"
A small smirk returned.
"…I'll watch that later."
The next day.
Sunlight slanted lazily across the bedroom floor, catching on clothes, books, and whatever else Visor had left scattered overnight.
Downstairs, Zono lounged on the couch, a lollipop tucked in the corner of her mouth and a gaming console held loosely in her hands, eyes rolling.
"Mom, why do I always have to wait for him?" she asked, dripping with sarcasm. "I'm basically late every single day because of Visor."
Her mother sighed, coffee in hand. "I know, I know… but he's your older brother. You have to wait for him sometimes."
Zono huffed, smirking. "Oh, joy. I have to, huh? Because he's never on time, ever. Lucky me."
" Look I get it" Mom muttered, shaking her head. "You always get yourself ready on time, keep things in order, and basically handle more than your share.. but still—when is he actually going to wake up?"
With that, she stomped up the stairs, the wooden steps creaking beneath her. Reaching Visor's door, she kicked it open and stormed inside.
Visor was still half-buried under his blanket, face hidden, groaning as he turned over.
"Mm… five more minutes…" he mumbled, a strand of hair sticking to his forehead.
"Not happening," Mom said sharply, yanking the blanket off his shoulders. "You're already late for school, and your sister's waiting for you. Get up—now."
"Fine… I'm getting up," he muttered, rubbing his eyes and stumbling toward the bathroom.
Mom pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering under her breath,
"You're hopeless."
She followed a step behind, hands on her hips, coffee wobbling slightly in her free hand.
"I swear… you really are hopeless," she added, exasperation clear in her tone.
Later, downstairs, Zono leaned against the stairs railing, lollipop in her mouth and console in hand, shouting up, "Hurry up already!" she said sarcastically , a hint of annoyance in her tone.
Visor groaned again, dragging one foot and letting out a small sigh.
"Yeah, yeah… coming," he mumbled, still half-asleep, swinging his arms to keep his balance.
Mom shook her head, muttering softly,
"Every single morning…" with you
Later The front door opened with a soft creak.
Warm air drifted in from outside.
Visor stepped out first.
He wore a loose red jacket hanging open over a plain black shirt. Baggy blue jeans sat low and relaxed on him, moving slightly with each slow step. A wallet chain hung from his pocket, giving off a faint—
Clink...Clink
with every shift of his weight. On his feet were red sneakers, slightly scuffed from dirt roads and careless walking.
His messy black hair, tipped faintly with red, caught the sunlight for a moment before falling back over his eyes as he yawned.
Zono followed right behind him.
She looked more put-together in comparison. A fitted off-shoulder top rested comfortably on her shoulders, paired with a simple skirt that moved lightly as she walked. A bag hung neatly at her side, and in her hand was a gaming console she was already focused on. The lollipop sat in her mouth, tilted slightly as she spoke, shifting as she talked around it without caring.
Her black hair with red tips was smoother than Visor's—neatly styled, falling clean and controlled over her shoulders.
"I swear," she said immediately, not even looking up from her console, "Mom should just start charging you for every morning you ruin."
"Mm."
"Don't 'mm' me."
"I heard you."
"You didn't respond."
"I did."
"That wasn't a response."
They stepped onto the dirt road.
Crunch.
Crunch.
The morning air was warm and still. Fields stretched out on both sides, farmers already working, tools hitting soil in slow, steady rhythm.
Zono walked beside him, eyes flicking between her console and the path ahead, lollipop still in her mouth as she spoke.
"And it's not even like I'm the one causing problems," she continued. "I'm literally ready. I'm waiting. And then you show up like the whole concept of time is optional."
"Mm."
"Stop doing that."
"I heard you."
"You're not answering properly."
"I am."
"You're really not."
Visor stretched his arms slightly, then rested them behind his head as he walked.
Relaxed posture. Lazy stride.
But his eyes weren't fully on the road.
They drifted.
CLACK.
The sound echoed in his head again.
Metal hitting metal.
Spin shifting.
Balance breaking—
then recovering at the edge.
"…That's different…" he muttered under his breath.
Zono finally glanced at him over the top of her console. "What is?"
No answer.
She went back to playing.
"And anyway," she added casually, lollipop shifting slightly in her mouth as she spoke, "Mom doesn't even get mad at me.
She just looks exhausted because she knows exactly how this goes every day."
Visor shrugged slightly. "Never said you were the problem."
"I know."
"…Mm."
"Don't start with that again."
A small rock rolled near Visor's foot.
He nudged it forward without thinking.
It spun.
Wobbled.
Then corrected itself and rolled on.
His eyes followed it a moment longer than necessary.
"…Huh."
"What now?" Zono asked without looking up.
"Nothing."
The wind passed through the fields, dragging thin streaks of dust across the road.
Visor watched it curve slightly before it settled.
"…It bends weird…"
Zono sighed.
"You're talking about wind while I'm literally mid-game."
He didn't respond.
THUNK.
A farmer struck the ground nearby.
THUNK.
Same motion.
Same rhythm.
Zono didn't even react—just kept playing, lollipop still between her lips.
Visor tilted his head slightly.
"You're not listening, are you?" she asked.
"I am."
"No you're not."
"I heard you."
"What did I say?"
"… you're annoying."
She paused.
"… very funny she said, sarcastically.."
Visor kept walking.
A faint smirk tugged at his face.
Not looking back.
Up ahead, a metal bucket got nudged and rolled unevenly across the dirt.
Zono finally looked up.
"Don't tell me you're going to stare at that too."
Visor didn't answer.
But he slowed slightly.
The bucket wobbled harder.
Almost tipping.
He stepped forward—
and lightly tapped it.
CLANK.
It steadied briefly.
Rolled smoother—
then fell over a moment later.
Zono blinked. "…Okay, why did you do that?"
Visor looked at it.
Then shrugged.
"…Looked unstable."
She went back to her game. "That's not an explanation."
"It is."
"It really isn't."
They kept walking.
Zono returned her attention to the console,
lollipop still shifting as she spoke casually.
"You've been weird since yesterday."
"Have not."
"You have."
"Don't start."
"I'm serious."
"Mm."
"There it is again…"
Visor stretched slightly, hands back behind his head.
But his eyes stayed lower now.
Tracking.
Noticing.
Without realizing it.
CLACK.
That moment again.
Shift.
Timing.
Recovery.
"…Timing…" he muttered.
Zono didn't even look up this time.
"If you start diagnosing buckets, I'm calling it a mental issue."
He didn't respond.
She sighed.
"…You're impossible."
"I know."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I know."
They kept walking.
Ahead the school gates showed