Darkened-Storm

Fanfiction by Darkened-Storm

[darkened-storm]

O.C Origin Story

Because I just may never get around to writing all of this and I feel my readers need a bit of a back story going into the No Sacrifice, No Victory rewrite.

Read on for Steph and Becky’s version of events in my Beyblade universe

Japan Tournament (2000) 

After losing spectacularly to her older cousin, Enrique, the Italian national champion, Steph Summers is offered a place on Team BBA, a new concept team run by Stanley Dickenson, the newly appointed chair of the Beyblade Battle Association. Excited at the chance to beat her cousin, Steph moves from Rome to suburban Japan, where she meets Dickenson’s protégé, Tyson Granger, an enthusiastic teenager who loves to Beyblade. Along with beyblade technician and strategist, Kenny, better known as the Chief, Steph and Tyson draw the attention of Kai Hiwatari and his crew of Beybladers, one of whom is Steph’s estranged cousin, Becky Carter. The Bladesharks are the current representative team of Japan, and are well known for their ruthless style of play and their tendency to destroy their opponents Beyblades, rather than just defeat them. After Tyson loses against Kai, Steph informs him that Kai’s strength comes from a sacred spirit contained inside his beyblade, the Phoenix, Dranzer. Determined to defeat Kai in the upcoming Regional Championships, Tyson discovers the family Bit-Beast, Dragoon, contained inside an old relic in his grandfather’s dojo. Steph trains Tyson and Max (Dickenson’s third recruit from America) in preparation for the tournament. She teaches Tyson to harness the power of Dragoon against her own bit-beast, Seraphina. Meanwhile, the Kai pits the Bladesharks against each other to determine their starting five for the tournament. Becky is defeated and defects to Team BBA after Carlos installs an illegal attack ring on his beyblade that destroys her Beyblade, Ophelia. In the Qualifying Tournament, Tyson meets and defeats Ray and his bit-beast, Driger whilst Max, despite discovering his own bit-beast, Draciel, is defeated by Kai. With Becky’s help, Kenny and Steph are able to come up with a strategy for Tyson to beat Kai and win the tournament. After the tournament, Stanley Dickenson officially announces the new Team BBA. Tyson, Max, Ray and Steph will form the starting lineup of the new national team, with Becky listed as a substitute and Kai as team captain. He dubs the new team; the Bladebreakers.

China and America Tournaments   (2000) In order to prepare the rookie Beybladers for the World Championships in Russia that year, Dickenson sends them to Beyblade tournaments around the world - the first being the Chinese National Qualifiers, where Ray faces his former team, the White Tigers. The White Tigers are initially hostile to Tyson and his team for Ray’s defection, and it’s quite clear that the Bladebreakers are outclassed by the Chinese team. Still, with a bit of training, and some reluctant input from Kai, the Bladebreakers are able to defeat the White Tigers and win the tournament. Next stop is America, where the team spends time a Project Power Beyblade, an elite American development centre. Max’s mom, Judy Tate is the head researcher and coach of the PPB All Starz. Tyson, Ray and Max make up the final line up to defeat the All Starz and the team head over to Europe, with the intention of battling their way through Europe on their way to Russia.

European Tour (2000) 

Tyson is defeated by Robert, the German Champion on their way from America to London and as such, Dickenson instructs Steph to introduce the team to each of Europe’s champions. Steph and Becky introduce the Bladebreakers to Oliver Polanski, the French National champion. Oliver questions her decision to leave Europe, stating that Japanese team will never be a match for the Russians, who are the current World Champions. Steph insists her decision was the right one, and encourages Tyson to challenge Oliver. When Tyson defeats Oliver, the French Champion encourages him to challenge Enrique in Rome next, much to Steph’s annoyance. She refuses to accompany the team to Rome, but later changes her mind, arriving moments before Tyson is defeated by Enrique. Steph, in anger at her cousin for allowing his bitbeast, Amphilyon, to attack Tyson directly instead of his beyblade, demands a rematch. Steph reveals to Tyson that Enrique’s biggest weakness is his lack of understanding of Amphilyon’s importance and their connection. With Kenny’s help, they tweak Tyson’s beyblade to give him the edge against Enrique to win the rematch. Humbled by his defeat, Enrique is able to make amends with Steph and Becky and begs Steph to return to the European team, the Majestics. Steph declines, stating that she started something with them and she intends to finish it. Enrique is glad that by doing so, the three cousins are no longer estranged. With Oliver and Enrique tagging along, the Bladebreakers head for Germany for a rematch with Robert. Tyson is unable to convince Robert to battle him again, instead Johnny challenges and defeats Kai, making it Kai’s only defeat since battling Tyson. Becky and Tyson both urge Steph to convince Robert and Johnny to a rematch, to which Robert initially declines until Steph proves she can defeat Johnny. Robert, impressed by how far Steph’s skills have come since leaving Europe offers agrees to the rematch on two conditions; the first that Steph and Becky, being former members of the Majestics, do not compete, and second; if the Majestics win, Steph and Becky return to the European team. Johnny adds a third request; that if the Bladebreakers lose, they forfeight their place in the Championships in Russia to the Majestics. Tyson, Ray and Max accept they conditions. Kai is furious that Steph gambled their place in the World Championships, reminding her that there are bigger things at stake than just a Championship Trophy, but Steph is unapologetic, stating that Dickenson intended for them to face the Majestics and that was why he recruited her to begin with. She teaches Kai to beat Johnny and the Bladebreakers win 2-1 over the Majestics before making their way to Russia.

World Championships 2000

On arrival in Russia, Boris Balkov, the coach of the Russian team invites them to Balkov Abbey, an orphanage where the Russian Team was recruited. The Abbey is a front for BIOVOLT, a beyblade organisation headed by Kai’s grandfather Voltaire with the intent of militarising the six sacred spirits controlled by the Bladebreakers and that Dickenson formed the BBA team to defeat BIOVOLT. Voltaire entices Kai into defecting by offering him Black Dranzer, a beyblade that has the power to capture other sacred spirits. When Mariah, Kevin and Lee of the White Tigers and Michael and Emily of the PPB All Starz lose their bit beasts, Tyson hatches a plan to break into the Abbey and steal them back. Becky, distraught over Kai’s deflection refuses to come along initially until Ray points out they don’t stand a chance of convincing Kai to come back without her. Tyson creates a diversion by battling Ian of the Demolition Boys, allowing Steph and Becky to sneak into the Abbey. They are seperated by Boris’s security traps and Steph stumbles upon a research lab containing BIOVOLTs genetically modified bitbeasts. She is confronted by Tala, captain of the Demolition Boys and Boris’s star pupil. Instead of sounding the alarm, he questions her. He is perplexed as to why she would go to so much effort for Kai after he defected, to which she states that if he had a friend, he would know why. Steph challenges his beliefs about Beyblading and bitbeasts, encouraging him to think about the true spirit of the sport. Tala reveals Boris’s plan for the bitbeasts and the Demolition Boys. Steph offers him the chance to run away, certain that Dickenson will take them in, which Tala seriously considers. Kai ultimately confronts Tyson and Becky, refusing to return and challenging them to a match at Lake Balkai in order to capture their bitbeasts as per his grandfather’s instructions. Steph, Tyson and Ray show up for the fight, but are no match for Black Dranzer until Max and Becky arrive. Together, they are able to defeat Black Dranzer and break it’s control over Kai. Kai almost drowns when the frozen lake is melted by the real Dranzer’s flames, but is rescued by the Bladebreakers. On their return route to Moscow, they are intercepted by the Demolition Boys. Ophelia and Draciel are lost in the ensuing battle, ruling Becky and Max out of the final match. In the championship, Steph ties her match with Ian, meaning the Championship will likely go to a fourth set. Ray defeats Bryan, but Kai loses to Spencer and Dranzer is captured in the process. The stalemate is set to be settled by a fourth match between Tyson and Tala. Max’ parents, along with Kenny and Becky work together to create and new and improved Dragoon. With Ray in hospital after his match, Steph, Kai and Ray prepare Tyson for his final match. Tyson takes the first match in the set, but Tala unleashes the power of all the bitbeasts Black Dranzer has captured. The extent of Boris and Voltaire’s experimentation is revealed as Tala withstands impossible feats from his bitbeast Wolborg that Tyson’s father, Tatsuya, considers impossible as a bitbeast draws on its beyblader’s strength. Tyson loses the second match, but despite all odds, wins the third match. The Bladebreakers defeat the Demolition Blys and become the World Champions. Voltaire is taken into custody by Interpol and BIOVOLT is dismantled but Boris escapes. Mr Dickenson pays for Tala, Bryan, Spencer and Ian to attend a private secondary school in London.

Beyblade V-Force

As World Championships are only held every second year, the Bladebreakers go their seperate ways, but reunite when threatened by the Saint Shields. The Saint Shields are custodians of bitbeasts, and when Voltaire is released due to lack of evidence, determine they must capture the six sacred spirits of the Bladebreakers to prevent their power being militarised. Team Psykick is created in Japan for that very intent. Their researchers create cyber versions of the Bladebreakers bitbeasts, building on Boris’s work in Russia. Tyson’s classmate, Hilary, gets caught up in the action, along with Kai’s classmate, Wyatt Smithwright. Wyatt becomes a test Beyblader for the prototype cyber bitbeast which goes awry, causing Wyatt to have a mental breakdown when Kai is forced to destroy the bitbeast. The Bladebreakers defeat both Team Psykicks and the Saint Shields, who allow them to keep their bitbeasts, on the condition that the Bladebreakers voluntarily surrender them if they are unable to keep them out of Voltaire’s hands.

The World Championships 2002   A year later, the format of the World Championships is changed to a tag-team event, splitting the Bladebreakers up. Rather than compete against each other for the two spots, Ray, Max, Steph and Becky elect to return to their respective teams. Tyson, feeling betrayed, vows to beat them all. The new BBA team is renamed the BBA Revolutions and Tyson’s brother Hiro returns to coach the team. Kai defects to the newly formed Blitzkrieg Boys, besting Spencer and Bryan for the second spot on the Russian Team with Tala. Newcomer, Daichi Sumeragi and his Strata Dragoon take Kai’s place. Steph and Becky return from Europe, warning Tyson of a new team, the Barthez Battalion, that defeated the Majestics in Europe. Robert and Johnny begin investigating the team’s coach, John Paul Barthez and are able to link him to BIOVOLT with Tala’s help. Tyson, Steph and Becky are able to convince Miguel to lead a revolt against Barthez. Barthez Battalion places last in the championship, Tyson and Kai face off again in the finals after Tala and Daichi tie their match and Wolborg and Strata Dragoon are too damaged for a rematch. Steph, Kenny and Becky rebuild Dragoon for the match and Tyson is victorious.

BEGA Uprising   Upon their return to Japan, they are horrified to discover Boris has returned and staged a takeover of the BBA by discrediting Dickenson and the board of directors oust him. Boris forms BEGA as the new beyblade organisation of Japan. The former Bladebreakers refuse to take part in Boris’s league, leaving them unable to rebuild their Beyblades when BEGA demands all beybladers carry licenses to buy and sell beyblade gear. Boris instates Garland Siebalds, Ming Ming Love, Mystel and Crusher as the new representative Japanese beybladers for the next WBBA championships. Hiro abandons the BBA and becomes coach of BEGA, alienating Tyson and his friends. Tala, Spencer and Bryan confront Boris at BEGA HQ, defeating all the BEGA initiates and demanding Boris disband BEGA. The Bladebreakers get wind of Tala’s plan and rush to help, but by the time they arrive, Tala has already lost to Garland and is placed in a coma to recover from injuries sustained in the battle. Steph is distraught over Tala, but pours her energy into helping Kenny develop his own beyblade system, the Heavy Metal system. Kai defects to BEGA but is sorely beaten by Brooklyn. Tyson rallies his friends, and with the support of every beyblader they have met across the tournaments, reform the team as the G Revolutions. Steph surrenders her place as the fifth beyblader when Kai returns in order to let him have his rematch with Brooklyn, which she regrets as even though Kai wins, his bond with Dranzer is destroyed. With Tyson’s victory over Brooklyn, BEGA is disbanded and the BBA reinstated. Hiro returns to help Dickenson rebuild, admitting to himself that he left to create a bigger challenge he knew Tyson could overcome, even if it damaged his relationship indefinitely with his younger brother.

Introduction to NSNV   The World Championships are placed on hiatus while the BBA, a major contributor to the WBBA reforms. Kai and Tala leave to find Dranzer in Russia, leaving Becky’s relationship with Kai undetermined. Steph and Becky return to Italy to participate in the Italian Championships. Becky is defeated by Steph, who is in turn beaten by Enrique once again. Steph, now seventeen, considers retiring from Beyblading in order to focus on getting into college. She attends summer school in London and is reunited with Dickenson’s grandson, Matt Ishida. Matt’s indifference to Beyblading gives Steph a much needed break, but ultimately she realises she’s not ready to retire and returns to the Bladebreakers.

[darkened-storm]

The Sorting Hat

McGonagall adjusted her glasses, then unrolled another parchment and called, “Mathilda Alster.”

The huddle of beybladers parted and Mathilda stepped nervously up to the stool. McGonagall smiled warmly before lowering the Sorting Hat onto her head.

The Hat was quiet for a moment.

“Hufflepuff!”

The Hufflepuff table erupted into enthusiastic applause as Mathilda let out a visible breath of relief and hurried towards the sea of yellow and black.

“The International Magical Sports Confederation must be having kittens over all the student transfers this year,” Ron commented as the applause died down. “Mr Dickenson’s picked their regional leagues clean.”

“Hogwarts doesn’t stop us competing for our own countries,” Mariah explained. “A lot of beybladers don’t even live close to a magical school. Julia and Raul have been homeschooled.”

“And yet some others have all the education and resources gifted to them,” Tala muttered darkly, glaring toward the cluster of former BEGA bladers. “That is until everyone figures out your CEO is a fraud.”

“Tala,” Hilary hissed under her breath just as McGonagall called the next name.

“Julia Fernandez.”

Julia strode forward without hesitation, dark eyes sweeping briefly across the Hall before she sat down on the stool. The Hat barely touched her head.

“GRYFFINDOR!”

This time the Gryffindor table burst into cheers. Julia removed the Hat calmly, entirely unbothered by the noise, and crossed toward them with the composed confidence of somebody entering a room she already belonged in.

Mariah immediately shifted along the bench to make room beside her.

“You’ll survive here,” she assured lightly.

Julia snorted softly as she sat down. “Comforting.”

A smile ghosted Mariah’s mouth.

A few sortings later, McGonagall called, “Raul Fernandez.”

“Gryffindor,” Max said confidently before the Hat had even touched Raul’s head.

“Don’t be so sure,” Hilary replied. “The Patil twins are in different houses.”

Sure enough, only moments later the Hat shouted:

“RAVENCLAW!”

Raul looked visibly relieved as he crossed toward the applauding Ravenclaw table.

“Called it,” Hilary said smugly.

“You absolutely did not,” Tyson informed her.

McGonagall glanced back down at the parchment.

“Hiwatari, Mia.”

This time, the surprise rippled visibly through the Hall.

Steph’s head snapped up immediately.

“Wait,” Max blinked. “Mia transferred too?”

Most of them already knew Kai’s younger sister from the Triwizard Tournament the year before. The Beauxbatons students had spent months at Hogwarts, and Mia had visited the castle often enough alongside their delegation that she’d become a familiar presence around the beybladers.

Becky had even met her several times through the Hiwataris.

Still, nobody had expected her to leave Beauxbatons entirely.

Tyson turned toward Kai in disbelief. “You seriously didn’t tell us?”

Kai didn’t look remotely apologetic.

“My family business isn’t any of yours.”

“That’s a yes then,” Max muttered.

Steph’s eyes narrowed slightly as Mia approached the stool.

And suddenly Tala’s secrecy over the summer finally started making sense.

The scars.

The disappearances.

The evasive answers.

Steph turned slowly toward him.

“This is what you’ve been doing all summer?” she asked quietly. “Recruiting Kai’s sister?”

Tala’s jaw tightened slightly as Mia sat down beneath the Hat.

“Outside Hogwarts Voltaire could reach her,” he answered flatly. “Here he can’t.”

The Hat had gone unusually quiet.

Long enough that murmuring began spreading through the Slytherin table.

Most Hiwataris had historically been Slytherins.

Though more recently — beginning with Kai’s father — that trend had changed.

Still, the hesitation was noticeable.

Then finally:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

For half a second the Hall seemed stunned.

Then Gryffindor erupted.

Tyson cheered loudly enough to make several first years jump while Fred and George immediately joined in with deafening whistles and applause.

Mia looked momentarily startled by the reaction before making her way toward the table.

Kai’s attention remained fixed on the sorting rather than his sister’s approach, though Steph noticed some of the tension ease from his posture.

As Mia sat beside him, Becky smiled warmly.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were transferring?”

Mia flushed faintly beneath the candlelight. “It was a last minute decision,” she admitted. “But with everything going on, Mum and Dad wanted me closer to home this year.”

That quiet explanation dampened the excitement at the table slightly.

Not enough to ruin the mood.

Just enough to remind everyone why so many students were transferring schools in the first place.

Then McGonagall called:

“Miguel Lavalier.”

Steph looked up instinctively.

Miguel stepped forward with easy confidence, offering McGonagall a polite smile before sitting down beneath the Hat.

Unfortunately for Steph, the movement also gave her enough time to properly notice that he was unfairly attractive.

Tall.

Dark curls.

Warm brown eyes.

That stupidly charming smile.

“Oh, Enrique must be furious the Barthez Battalion transferred,” Tala commented dryly. “Miguel knocked him out of the European finals.”

Enrique scowled. “Miguel is a filthy cheater.”

Ray glanced across the table calmly. “Barthez forced all of them to cheat.”

“And Miguel admitted it afterward,” Hilary added. “He defended the rest of his team when they quit. The BBA pardoned them and reinstated the Battalion.”

“Hufflepuff!” the Hat announced suddenly.

The yellow table burst into cheers.

As Miguel passed the Gryffindor table, his gaze flicked immediately toward Steph and a soft smile curved his mouth — sweet enough to make heat rush abruptly into her cheeks, but just flirtatious enough to make her stomach flip slightly.

Becky noticed instantly.

A grin spread across her face. “So,” she whispered, nudging Steph lightly with her shoulder. “Have you agreed to that second date yet?”

“Not yet,” Steph admitted quietly, unable to stop smiling slightly.

Then she noticed Matt staring at her.

Not casually.

Intently.

The strange expression on his face made her pause.

She couldn’t read it at all.

Before she could ask, Matt looked away sharply.

Weirdo.

“Brooklyn Masefield.”

The Hall shifted almost perceptibly.

Even the teachers seemed more alert as Brooklyn walked forward through the silence.

“The Sorting Hat is taking an awfully long time,” Becky whispered.

Steph frowned slightly.

Sometimes the Hat’s decisions were almost instantaneous. In her own experience, the Hat had asked a few questions while rifling curiously through her thoughts, briefly debating Ravenclaw before ultimately settling on Gryffindor.

But she hadn’t seen it deliberate this long since—

Well.

Harry.

Brooklyn sat unnaturally still beneath the Hat while the Hall waited.

And waited.

Then finally:

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Silence.

No cheers followed this time.

Brooklyn removed the Hat slowly and rose from the stool, grey eyes sweeping across the staring Gryffindor table.

“What the fuck,” Tala muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disgust.

Brooklyn started toward them anyway.

Steph immediately shot Tyson a pointed look.

Help him.

Tyson hesitated.

For one awkward second Steph genuinely thought he might refuse.

Then he pushed himself abruptly to his feet.

“Hey,” he said loudly, holding out his hand. “Welcome to Gryffindor.”

Brooklyn looked genuinely caught off guard.

After a brief pause, he shook Tyson’s hand.

The tension at the table finally snapped apart as applause broke out around them. Fred and George started cheering loudly while the rest of Gryffindor quickly followed suit.

Except for the beybladers.

Ray remained quiet beside Mariah.

Kai’s expression didn’t change at all.

Tala looked furious.

Brooklyn released Tyson’s hand and moved further down the table instead, taking a seat near the Majestics and Julia — as far from Tala as physically possible.

Tala stared after him darkly.

“At least he’s your year,” Steph reminded under her breath. “You won’t have to share a dormitory with him.”

Tala let out a humourless laugh.

“Ming Ming Love.”

A poised girl with glossy dark hair stepped neatly onto the stool.

“Slytherin!”

The green table applauded approvingly as Ming Ming inclined her head gracefully before crossing the Hall.

“Aaron Silva.”

“Hufflepuff!”

Aaron grinned broadly as the Hufflepuff table erupted once more, Mathilda already clapping enthusiastically for him.

“Claude Tavarez.”

Claude approached the stool quietly, offering McGonagall a polite nod before sitting down beneath the Hat.

“Hufflepuff!”

Aaron cheered far louder than Claude reacted himself as Claude crossed calmly toward the cheering yellow table.

“Garland Tsiebolds.”

The atmosphere tightened again immediately.

Garland sat heavily on the stool.

The Hat barely brushed his head.

“SLYTHERIN!”

“The only person sorted into Slytherin faster than that would have to be a Malfoy,” Tyson muttered.

“Speak for yourself,” Hilary quipped. “The Hat hadn’t even settled around your big ears before it shouted Gryffindor.”

Tyson looked deeply offended.

[darkened-storm]

Steph knew it was a bad idea the second the call connected.

The camera shook violently before settling on Kiya’s face—slightly flushed, wildly pleased with herself—and then immediately tilted down to reveal… leaves.

Large ones.

Tropical. Suspiciously tropical.

Steph blinked. “Why does it look like you’re being attacked by a rainforest?”

“It’s fine,” Kiya said, breathless, clearly not fine. “Just—just hold on—”

The camera lurched again. There was the unmistakable scrape of ceramic against concrete, followed by a muffled thud.

Steph leaned closer to her laptop in her London flat. “Kiya. Why do you have a palm tree.”

Cut to Kiya, whisper-yelling: “Impulsive last-minute rescue.”

Steph stared at her. “That’s not a sentence that makes anything better.”

Another drag-scrape sound. The camera dipped just enough for Steph to catch a glimpse of a full potted palm wedged halfway through what looked like a sliding door.

Steph’s voice went up an octave. “YOU STOLE A PALM TREE.”

“I did not steal it,” Kiya shot back, bracing her shoulder against the pot and shoving. “It was on someone’s porch and they’ve been gone two months—”

“That’s still theft!”

“—and it looked sad,” Kiya finished, as if that solved everything.

Steph pinched the bridge of her nose. “That is not rescuing. That is larceny with foliage.”

Behind her, Matt—quietly making tea like this was a perfectly normal Tuesday—glanced over.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

Steph didn’t even turn. “Kiya has committed plant-based crime.”

Matt paused. Then, very calmly, set the kettle down… and picked up his phone.

California — same time

Kiya finally got the pot inside with a victorious grunt and kicked the door shut behind her.

“There,” she said, triumphant. “See? Easy.”

Steph leaned in, eyes narrowing. “Why are you whispering.”

Kiya froze.

From somewhere deeper in the house, a floorboard creaked.

“…I’m not whispering.”

“You are absolutely whispering.”

“I am being considerate,” Kiya hissed.

Steph deadpanned, “Of the man whose house you’re smuggling a tree into?”

Kiya opened her mouth—

Her phone buzzed.

She glanced down.

Bryan:

Do we own a palm tree?

Kiya went still.

Very, very still.

Steph saw it happen in real time. “Oh no.”

Another buzz.

Bryan:

Also why is Matt texting me ‘check your living room’ like it’s a hostage situation

Steph slowly turned her head toward Matt.

He didn’t even look up from his tea. “Preventative measures.”

“You snitched?” Steph whispered, scandalised.

“I prefer ‘risk mitigation.’”

⸻

Back on Kiya’s screen, there was the unmistakable sound of footsteps.

Heavy ones.

Approaching.

Kiya whispered, “He’s not supposed to be home yet.”

Steph leaned forward like she was watching live television. “Oh I am not hanging up. I want to see this.”

“Kiya,” Matt added mildly, “you may want to—”

Too late.

The hallway light flicked on behind her.

Bryan appeared in the doorway, arms crossed, taking in:

• His wife

• A full-sized palm tree

• Dirt on the floor

• The expression of someone who had absolutely no intention of explaining this logically

There was a long, terrible silence.

Then—

“…why,” Bryan said slowly, “is there a tree in my house.”

Kiya straightened. Tried dignity. Failed immediately.

“It followed me home.”

Steph choked.

Matt turned away, shoulders shaking.

Bryan blinked once. Twice. “It—what.”

“It was neglected,” Kiya said, doubling down with reckless bravery. “I rescued it.”

“That is not rescuing,” Steph called from London, fully invested now. “That is a felony.”

Bryan pointed at the screen. “Why is Steph here.”

“Witness,” Steph said brightly.

“ENABLER,” Kiya snapped.

“Critic,” Steph corrected.

Bryan dragged a hand down his face. “How long has this been happening.”

Kiya hesitated.

Steph answered immediately: “About five minutes and already it’s escalated beyond recovery.”

Matt added, “There’s dirt on your floor.”

Bryan looked down.

There was, indeed, dirt on his floor.

He looked back up at Kiya.

“…you tracked soil through the house.”

“It’s organic,” Kiya offered weakly.

Steph lost it. Full laughter now, doubled over in her chair.

Matt finally sipped his tea. “Well,” he said, calm as ever, “on the bright side, it’s a nice plant.”

Bryan turned to him through the screen. “You’re not helping.”

“I warned you.”

“You CAUSED THIS.”

Kiya pointed at Matt. “Exactly! He snitched!”

Steph wiped her eyes. “Oh my god, you got busted mid-heist. This is incredible.”

Bryan looked back at the palm tree. Then at his wife.

“…we are not keeping it.”

Kiya gasped. “You can’t just throw it back out, it’s traumatised.”

“It’s a plant.”

“It has feelings.”

“It has roots in SOMEONE ELSE’S PROPERTY.”

Steph clapped once. “Say it louder for the courtroom.”

Kiya looked between all of them, betrayed on every front.

“…you’re all against me.”

“Yes,” Steph and Bryan said in perfect unison.

Matt, after a beat: “Regrettably.”

⸻

There was a long pause.

Then Kiya sighed, deflating.

“…fine.”

Bryan nodded, relieved.

“We’ll return it tomorrow,” she said.

He blinked. “We?”

Kiya smiled sweetly. “You’re part of this now.”

Steph cackled.

Matt took another sip of tea.

Bryan closed his eyes.

“…I knew I should have ignored Matt’s text.”

⸻

Steph leaned back in her chair, utterly delighted.

“Same time next week?” she asked.

Kiya, already eyeing the plant like she might try again, muttered, “Don’t tempt me.”

Matt raised an eyebrow.

Bryan pointed at the screen. “No more crimes.”

Kiya grinned.

“No promises.”

[darkened-storm]

“You punched him through a mountain.”

“It was a small mountain.”

Goten blinked. “It was a continent, Becky.”

#twinchaos

[darkened-storm]

The shitfull things Ian does part I

The Blitzkrieg boys’ suite had crossed the line from “strategy meeting” into “barely contained chaos” about ten minutes ago.

Steph had claimed a corner of the couch, notebook balanced on her knee, pen tapping in quick, restless beats as she tried to wrangle a plan out of six very different personalities. Matt sat close beside her, angled just enough that their shoulders touched, his arm draped along the back of the couch behind her like it belonged there. Every now and then, his fingers brushed her sleeve—small, absent, familiar. When she leaned forward to write, his hand shifted with her without thinking, steadying her at the shoulder.

Becky had taken the armchair again, one leg hooked over the side, watching the room with sharp amusement. Kai stood near the window, arms folded, but his attention kept drifting back to her—quick glances he didn’t seem aware he was making.

Kiya paced. Bryan leaned against the wall behind her, silent and solid, eyes tracking her every turn like he was the only one allowed to be irritated by her movement.

“You’re overcomplicating it,” Steph said, scribbling something down. “We don’t need a full infiltration if we can force them to—”

“Your version of ‘force’ usually involves something catching fire,” Becky cut in.

Steph didn’t look up. “Controlled fire.”

Matt tilted his head slightly. “There has never been anything controlled about it.”

“Semantics,” she argued.

Matt’s hand shifted, thumb brushing lightly against her arm, silently urging restraint. They needed subtle espionage over brute force.

Softly, he said, “We’re not adding arson to the plan.”

Steph huffed. “Fine. No fire. Yet.”

The bathroom door slammed open.

Tala stormed out, sleeves soaked, hair damp, looking like he’d personally declared war on the concept of plumbing.

“What happened?” Kiya asked immediately.

Tala didn’t slow down. “He put all my uniforms in the shower. Turned the tap on. Left it running.”

There was a beat.

Becky winced, but there was a spark of told you so in it. “We knew he would retaliate for you excluding him from this meeting.”

Tala snapped back, already frustrated. “I am excluding him for his own good. He is too young to get caught up in all this, and it does not give him a reason to be a—” he cut himself off just long enough to switch languages for emphasis, “—shitass.”

Steph blinked, pen pausing mid-air. “I haven’t heard that before, but it sounded… extreme.”

Kai exhaled slowly, like he’d accepted his fate as the translator of terrible decisions, and said, “Imagine if you took the English word for diarrhea and turned it into a verb, and then a person who performs that verb. A ‘shitass,’ if you will.”

Becky leaned forward immediately, grin sharp. “Sums up Ian pretty well, if you ask me.”

Kiya let out a breath, folding her arms. “Can’t blame him. The younger kids are desperate to be involved.”

“They’re too young,” Bryan cut in, voice low, firm—no room for debate.

Steph’s pen stilled. She looked up, meeting that head-on. “They’re the same age we were when we first took on Boris.”

That landed harder than anything else had.

Beside her, Matt drew in a sharp breath, the hand at her shoulder tightening slightly. Steph felt it immediately and leaned back just enough to press into his side—grounding, deliberate.

I’m here. I’m fine.

Matt exhaled slowly. His thumb brushed once against her arm—checking, reassuring himself more than anything.

Across the room, Tala dragged a hand through his damp hair, irritation bubbling back up where it was easier to deal with.

“…Ian is still a shitass,” he muttered.

Becky snorted.

Kai closed his eyes briefly, like he was choosing not to engage.

Steph’s mouth twitched as she flipped her notebook back open. “Noted. We’ll add that to the official assessment.”

Matt huffed a quiet breath—half a laugh, half something else—his hand still resting where it was.

“Right,” Steph said, tapping her pen against the page. “Now that we’ve covered arson restrictions and plumbing crimes—can we please get back to the part where we take down Boris?”

[darkened-storm]

The mental health trashcan-o-meter

The hotel room in London looked like a convenience store had lost a fight.

Oreos open on the coffee table. Two crushed chip packets. A suspicious mix of chocolate wrappers and something neon that Becky had insisted counted as “fruit adjacent.” The curtains were half drawn—but they kept moving, rattling faintly with every violent gust outside.

Wind howled down the street, loud enough to cut through the glass.

Steph glanced toward the window, twisting an Oreo apart like it had personally offended her. “That’s not normal wind.”

“It’s British wind,” Becky said, feet planted firmly on the table despite multiple protests. “It comes with personality.”

“It sounds like it’s trying to break in.”

“It probably is.”

Hilary, curled into the armchair with the remote, didn’t even look up. “If it gets in, it can help clean this mess.”

“It’ll make it worse,” Steph muttered.

Kiya, sprawled along the couch with one arm over her eyes, hummed faintly. “At least it’ll take the trash with it.”

Another gust rattled the window hard enough to make all of them glance over.

“Yeah,” Steph said. “That’s definitely taking someone’s bin.”

Hilary paused mid-channel flip. “…wait.”

She hit the volume.

On screen, a weather segment popped up—some overly composed presenter gesturing at a brightly coloured graphic.

TRASH CAN WIND METER.

Hilary blinked, then snorted. “Our situation can’t be all that bad if they’re comparing the weather to lost trash cans.”

Becky let out a quiet, long-suffering exhale.

“What I wouldn’t give,” she said, staring at the ceiling, “to be as oblivious as the general population is about how close we are to the world ending if we don’t win a beyblade tournament.”

Silence.

The wind howled again, like it was agreeing.

Steph twisted another Oreo apart.

Hilary didn’t change the channel.

Kiya shifted slightly, lowering her arm just enough to look at them. “If that scale applied to your mental health… where would you be?”

Her gaze slid, pointed, to Hilary.

Hilary shrugged immediately. “After dealing with Tyson and Daichi today? My lid is definitely flipped open.”

“That’s generous,” Becky muttered.

Steph huffed a quiet laugh. “I’m probably somewhere between the neighbor’s yard and halfway down the street.”

She glanced over. “What about you?”

Becky didn’t even hesitate.

“My boyfriend’s grandfather is our arch nemesis,” she said flatly. “And we’re trying to stop him from taking over the world.”

She reached for another Oreo.

“My trash can is gone.”

Hilary lost it first, dissolving into laughter.

Steph followed, quieter, but nodding like that was a completely reasonable conclusion. “Yeah. No. That checks out.”

Kiya sat up slightly as all three of them turned on her.

“What?” she said, already smiling.

“Well?” Hilary pressed. “Where are you on the scale?”

Kiya let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“I never had one.”

Steph blinked. “That bad, huh?”

Kiya leaned back again, folding her arms behind her head.

“I’m stuck in Japan with no public bin,” she said. “And I forgot to bring my own portable garbage bag.”

There was a beat.

Then the room broke—laughter spilling over itself, loud and unfiltered.

Outside, something metallic clattered down the street, carried by the wind.

Steph didn’t even look up. “Yeah,” she said through a grin. “There goes someone’s trash can.”

[darkened-storm]

[beybladebydarkened-storm]

Promise

The locker room was eerily silent as the clock ticked closer to four pm.

From the bench by the window, Steph watched the second hand flicker around the clock face, Seraphina clutched tightly in her left hand. The polished metal of her blade pressed cool against her palm, grounding her just enough to keep the anxious twist in her stomach from showing on her face.

Around her, her teammates pretended to be busy with their pre-game routines. Max was checking and re-checking the screws on Draciel with so much focus it was obvious he was barely seeing them. Becky had her headphones in at max volume, the familiar pulse of Linkin Park’s Numb buzzing tinny and faint from each earpiece. Ray strapped his wrists with the concentration of a ship captain navigating the Suez Canal. Kai stood against the wall, arms folded, gaze lowered and unreadable.

And Tyson…

Their trump card paced the centre of the room, restless energy radiating from him with each turn. He would stop every few seconds like he meant to say something, then think better of it and move again, trainers squeaking softly against the floor.

Another minute ticked past.

He’s not going to show, Steph thought with dismay, glaring at the locker room door as if she could will it open through sheer irritation.

Patience, little one, Seraphina urged.

Steph tightened her grip on the blade. Easy for the bit-beast to say.

Four o’clock ticked by.

The handle turned.

Every head in the room lifted as the door opened.

Hiro stepped inside quietly and closed the door behind him.

No one said anything.

No one told him to leave either.

For a long second, he just stood there with his hand still resting on the handle, like he understood exactly how much ground there was between the door and the rest of the room and knew he had no right to cross it lightly.

Then he let go of the handle and took a step forward.

Addressing them as a team, Hiro said, “What’s done is done. I want to be your coach again.”

The words landed heavily in the silence.

Steph felt the room react before anyone moved. Max looked up sharply from Draciel. Becky slid one side of her headphones off her ear. Tyson stopped pacing. Even Kai lifted his gaze.

It was Ray who spoke first.

“You want to coach a bunch of has-beens?”

The challenge hung in the air.

Steph glanced at him in surprise. It was the kind of blunt, cutting comment she would have expected from Tyson, maybe Kai on a bad day — not Ray, who usually chose his words with care. But that was what made it hit harder. If even Ray was willing to say it out loud, then the wound in the room had gone deeper than any of them had admitted.

Hiro knew it too.

Steph saw it in the way his shoulders slumped, just slightly, accepting the accusation without resistance. With regret.

“No,” he said. “I want to coach the Bladebreakers.”

That shifted something.

Not enough to break the tension, but enough to change its shape. Steph saw Max’s expression soften at the edges. Becky lowered her headphones completely now, letting them rest around her neck. Tyson’s jaw stayed tight, but he hadn’t started pacing again.

Hiro stepped forward another pace.

“I’m not going to pretend I haven’t made mistakes,” he said. “I should have been honest with you all from the start, not just about BEGA, but about this tournament.”

No one interrupted him.

“Reforming the team was never about winning a championship title,” he continued. “Maybe it was the right thing to keep that from you when you were kids, but you’re adults now, and you deserve honesty. You deserve a choice.”

Steph watched his gaze move across all of them, deliberate and steady, lingering nowhere and everywhere at once. There was no strategist in him now, no careful manipulation, no attempt to steer their reactions before they had them. Just Hiro, stripped of excuses.

“I don’t need to remind you what’s at stake here. If the Bladesharks and the JBO succeed, the entire future of the WBBA is in jeopardy.”

The words sank into the room with a weight none of them could ignore.

“I told you I wanted to help you put an end to the Bladesharks once and for all, and that hasn’t changed,” Hiro said. “But you and I all know it’s so much bigger than that now.”

Steph felt Seraphina’s presence stir against her thoughts, warm and approving. Hiro was finally saying it plainly.

Becky’s voice broke the quiet.

“So why did you leave?”

There was no accusation in it. Just a clean, direct question, asked with the same blunt clarity Becky brought to everything when she wanted the truth and nothing else.

Hiro met her gaze.

“I thought it was the best thing for the team,” he admitted. “I wasn’t honest with you, and it was putting the team at odds. You weren’t fighting because you didn’t trust each other — you were fighting because I hadn’t given you a reason to trust in the team.”

Steph felt that one land.

Max looked down at Draciel in his hands, thoughtful now rather than tense. Ray’s brow furrowed slightly, but not in anger. In reflection. Becky’s posture eased, just a fraction.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness for my mistakes,” Hiro went on. “And walking out on you was a mistake I’ve made more times than I should have.” His voice dipped lower, steadier for the admission. “But I’d like to be your coach again, if you’ll still have me.”

The silence that followed was different from the one before.

Less brittle. Less defensive. The room was listening now.

Steph glanced at her teammates. Max was quiet, contemplating Hiro’s words with the earnest seriousness he wore whenever something mattered to him more than he knew how to say. Ray’s expression had softened, the challenge from earlier giving way to contemplation. Becky’s glance shifted from Kai, to Hiro, and back to Kai again, assessing, calculating, weighing whether this was real.

Kai, after a long second, lowered his chin in a nod — slight, but intentional.

Then he asked, “What about Barthez?”

Hiro gave a small shrug, not dismissive, just honest. “Barthez’s involvement complicates things,” he admitted. “It raises the stakes. This isn’t just about becoming a championship team again, it’s about becoming a team that can defend the integrity of the sport.” His gaze swept the room once more. “I know that together, we can do that. Right?”

This time the answer came not in words, but in the shift of bodies and expressions around the room.

Ray nodded first, small but honest. Becky followed with a shrug that said she was in whether she liked how they got here or not. Max muttered a barely audible, “Of course,” under his breath. Kai’s nod this time was unmistakable.

And Tyson—

He’s not convinced, Seraphina observed, her impatience unmistakable.

But Steph saw the shift in Tyson’s stance, the softening in his expression. Not enough to call it acceptance. Not yet. But the anger wasn’t leading anymore. Beneath it was hurt, and beneath that, something more fragile still — the part of Tyson that had wanted Hiro to come back and hated him for being the reason he had to want it.

Hiro sensed it too, doubling down.

“I made you all a promise,” he said. “And I’m sticking with you.”

Now there was nowhere left for either of them to hide.

Hiro turned to face Tyson fully.

The room seemed to narrow around the two brothers. Steph watched the change in Hiro then — all the careful composure still there, but with something rawer under it now. He was not speaking to his captain. Not even to his best blader. He was speaking to Tyson.

Hiro’s voice was softer when he said, “What do you say, Tyson?”

Tyson held his gaze for a long moment.

Steph could almost see the argument playing out behind his eyes. All the old hurt. All the anger. All the times Hiro had made choices for him and expected him to understand later. But there was relief there too, buried deep and impossible to miss once she saw it. Relief that Hiro had come back. Relief that he was finally saying the things Tyson had needed to hear all along.

Tyson scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck and let out a breath.

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt if we practiced first.”

For half a heartbeat, nobody moved.

Then Hiro grinned.

“Now that’s something I never thought I’d hear.”

The tension in the room cracked all at once.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Hiro asked, the first real spark of his old energy returning to his voice. “Let’s get out there.”

Max leaped to his feet first with a whoop of relief, almost knocking Becky over in his enthusiasm. She grinned and shoved him back with her shoulder, muttering something under her breath that made Ray snort softly as he stood. Kai pushed off the wall and reached for his blade without a word. Tyson rolled his shoulders once, the weight in him lighter now, and bent to grab Dragoon.

Single file, they left the locker room, the heavy silence finally replaced by movement, purpose, and the low murmur of a team pulling itself back together.

Steph hung behind, giving Seraphina’s blade a relieved squeeze.

Hiro lingered too, just long enough for their eyes to meet.

She offered him a small smile. “Good job, Coach.”

Something eased in his face at the title. Gratitude, quiet and immediate.

His answering smile was tired but real.

Steph nodded once, then turned and followed her teammates out into the noise beyond the locker room doors.

[beybladeocweek]

💬 Question of the Day - 03/01/26

What is the name of your OC's beyblade and what inspired its design or concept? How did your OC acquire it?

[darkened-storm]

Steph's beyblade is Seraphina and Becky's is Ophelia. They are twin dragon bitbeasts. The bitbeasts names originate from their time as Digimon OC's with mega forms seraphimon and orphanimon.

Steph's beyblade design is similar to Kai's Dranzer as she is a balanced beyblader, where as Ophelia is similar to Dragoon and Becky is an offensive beyblader.

Both beyblades were originally hand me downs from their older cousin Enrique, and the spirits were gifted to the three cousins by their maternal grandmother who commanded all three.

[darkened-storm]

Thomas beckoned the three of them aside. It was only then that Steph noticed he wore a very grave and almost agitated look on his face. Steph got the impression that already this expedition was putting him on edge.

“What is it?” Van asked.

“Shh,” Thomas housed. He was looking over Van’s shoulder directly at Fiona. “Might I remind you what tends to happen when we explore ruins? Particularly with an Ancient Zoidian?”

“Well,” Steph said quietly. “Every single time Fiona seems to remember something about her past.”

“Usually something bad,” Van added.

“Exactly,” Thomas agreed, nodding his head vigorously. “And what happened the last time Fiona remembered something from her past?”

He looked pointedly at Van, and Van’s face suddenly went very pale and they both understood what Thomas was getting at. Their last encounter with the Death Stinger had ended with Hiltz escaping and Fiona literally disappearing into thin air. Even ten years late, no one could explain how Fiona was in Van’s arms one moment, and then merely seconds later over one hundred kilometres away in the Valley of the Rare Hertz. It defied all logic - as did most things related to the ancient Zoidian.

“We get the point,” Steph said quietly, because Van seemed very much unable to speak. “Lost memories equal bad.”

Matt, to his credit, was trying his best to look like he had some idea what Thomas was on about. “So what exactly is your plan, Thomas?”

“I propose not letting Fiona touch a single thing inside these ruins. Maybe if we can avoid triggering any unwanted memories we might be able to find the General and return him home safe and sound without setting about the next apocalypse.”

“Do you reckon he took his meds this morning?” Van wondered, not bothering to lower his voice. Steph jabbed him in the ribs.

[blade-liger-4ever]

Who's Steph and Matt? Also who's the General?

[darkened-storm]

Whoops - for context this is from my fanfic Tears from the Heart, it's a direct sequel to Guardian Force. Steph (Republican) and Matt (Imperial) are my OC's and the fanfic follows a joint mission with the Guardian Force to find a missing Republican science officer who's gone missing in Imperial territory while looking for more clues to the function of the Zoid Eve!

[darkened-storm]

[darkened-storm]

She found the assigned room on the upper floors of the officer’s quarters, stopping only to confirm his name was indeed scribbled hastily below Thomas’s before she flung the door open—

—and stopped dead in her tracks.

Matt looked up, his sapphire eyes narrowing at the intrusion, and her words died at the sight of him.

He was half dressed in clean flight pants and a half-buttoned shirt, revealing the purple splotches that were beginning to form across his shoulders and chest where the restraints had held him.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved.

Matt’s expression flickered — surprise, then wariness — as his gaze cut briefly to the open door behind her; a subtle reminder that she shouldn’t be here, and that she couldn’t afford to be caught.

“Something wrong, Lieutenant?”

She flinched at the renewed use of her rank over her name — and its purpose: armour. Whatever had prompted him to lower his guard with her earlier, the walls were firmly back in place.

But she wasn’t about to back down now.

She stepped fully into the room, shutting the door behind her with a decisive click.

“You’re hurt,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

He shrugged. “It looks worse than it is.”

The words did little to assure her.

“That was reckless,” she told him.

He leaned back against the edge of the desk, folding his arms loosely, as if deliberately casual. His gaze met hers, steady and calculating, but there was something taut beneath it — like a wire drawn too tight.

“I know how to handle myself in combat,” she said.

“And I don’t?” His words were barely above a whisper.

She took a step closer, eyes flicking — traitorously — to the bruising across his chest again. “You could have been killed,” she said, unable to keep the edge from her voice.

“So could you,” he reminded her, and there was the subtlest hint of amusement in his tone. “Doesn’t that make you just as reckless?”

“What?” She hesitated, thrown. “I—” A flicker of heat rose under her skin. “I guess… no!” She shook her head insistently. “I’m a Guardian Force pilot. It’s my job. Your job is to—”

“Protect you,” he interjected, the humour falling away like a mask. “A job, I might add, that is proving increasingly difficult — what, with all the attempted kidnappings and the spies…”

He trailed off, jaw tightening, something dark passing through his expression.

“I suppose taking the brunt of a charged particle beam isn’t really conducive to your assignment.”

She saw his jaw clench. “Don’t remind me.”

The silence stretched — tight, humming, dangerous.

She reached for him without quite realising she’d decided to. Her fingers brushed the bruising on his skin, lighter than air.

He flinched.

His hand came up instantly, catching hers and holding it flat against his chest — not pushing it away.

“You’re really all right then?” she asked, softer now.

His breath shifted beneath her palm. “I will be.”

“I’m sorry about Anna,” she said quietly.

“I don’t care about Anna,” he replied, and there was a sudden edge to his voice. “That’s not why— she’s not the reason why I did it.”

“Then why?”

He hesitated — just long enough for the truth to decide for him.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “It was reckless. I knew I’d be putting myself in the line of fire. I knew I had no business being on that battlefield today.” His grip tightened, not painful — grounding. “But when that radar locked onto you… I stopped thinking.”

Steph froze.

“That wasn’t training,” he continued, voice rough now. “It wasn’t protocol. All that mattered was protecting you.”

That was not a soldier’s answer.

It was a confession.

“I keep telling myself it’s duty,” he went on, quieter now. “That it’s the assignment — because that’s the simplest explanation. And if I tell myself that enough times, maybe it’ll be true.”

His free hand rose to cup her cheek, thumb brushing just beneath her eye, lifting her gaze to meet his.

And under no circumstances should he be looking at her the way he was looking at her now — like she was the very air he needed to breathe.

“We can’t…” she whispered.

We can’t fall in love.

Matt’s breath shuddered, his forehead resting briefly against hers. “I think,” he murmured, “we already have.”

She didn’t argue.

She kissed him.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t careful. It was desperate and certain and long overdue.

His hands found her waist and lifted her easily onto the desk, her breath catching as the solid edge pressed into the backs of her thighs.

Her fingers fumbled for the hem of his shirt, tugging it free of his pants and dragging it upward, needing skin, needing proof.

His skin was warm beneath her hands — living, solid — undeniable proof that he had survived the wreck, that he was here.

He sucked in a breath when her fingertips grazed one of the darker bruises, his grip tightening reflexively.

She shrugged out of her flight jacket, letting the fabric fall forgotten to the desk. Her hands went to her hair, fingers shaking as they snagged in the tie.

“Let me,” he said softly.

She dropped her hands.

He tugged gently at the tie until it came loose, letting the long strands tumble around her shoulders. His fingers threaded through her hair slowly, reverently, like it was something precious.

He lowered her onto the bed with care that didn’t quite mask the hunger beneath it.

“Sorry,” she said at once, withdrawing her hands — only for him to catch them again.

“Don’t be,” he told her.

He kissed the corner of her mouth. Then her cheek. Then the star-shaped tattoo beneath her eye, lingering there as if it meant something sacred.

His gaze searched hers, the intensity behind it making her breath hitch. “Have you…?” he began, voice low and careful.

Her pulse thundered.

She shook her head slowly.

Something in him softened instantly — not disappointment, not hesitation — but something protective and fierce and aching all at once.

His fingers stroked her face, slow and soothing, grounding her, giving her confidence.

“We’ll go as slow as you need,” he promised quietly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since this mission began — since the Knights, the betrayals, the fear —

Steph believed him.

And just beyond the door, the war could wait a little longer.

[darkened-storm]

Today we’re a cardcaptor!

[darkened-storm]

“Cherry blossoms,” he murmured.

“What?”

“Your hair,” he explained, and there was a roughness to his voice as he ran his fingers through the curls. “It always smells like cherry blossoms.”

“Oh,” she said again, wondering why the scent of her shampoo was suddenly important. Then it clicked; “the amortentia,” she breathed.

He chuckled softly. “I wondered when you were going to work that one out.”

[the-stray-liger]

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[the-stray-liger]

Also in case you don't want or can't afford a commission but would like to help me with a couple of bucks, I have a ko-fi!!!

[the-stray-liger]

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[the-stray-liger]

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[darkened-storm]

[darkened-storm]

It was well after dark by the time Steph reached her dorm. Flopping onto her bed, she pulled out her phone and selected the most recent missed call. The line rang twice before her cousin answered. 

“Matt Ishida is my lab partner.”

“Wait -“ the phone shook violently as Becky flipped the camera around so that Steph could see her face. It was close to midnight in Paris and it was obvious the call had woken her up. 

“Dickenson’s grandson? The one that hates beyblading?” 

Steph nodded, figuring that seemed like an accurate enough description. She heard the rustle of food packets as her cousin dug into her snacks. 

“What’s he doing at Oxford?”

“He’s doing the summer science program, same as me,” Steph said with a shrug. “Said something about wanting to become an engineer.” 

Somehow, the fact that Matt had already figured out what he wanted to do when he graduated high school and she hadn’t made Steph like him even less. 

“Nerd,” Becky teased, helping herself to a handful of popcorn. “So - is he hot?”

“Becky!” 

Her cousins laughter reverberated through her AirPods, prompting Steph to mash the volume down button to preserve her hearing. 

“It’s a valid question,” her cousin insisted, following by the crunch of a cookie. Great, now she was making Steph hungry. “How long has it been since you last saw him? A year?”

“At least,” Steph guessed, trying to do the math in her head. As the grandson of the Chairman of the BBA, it was inevitable that they would cross paths on occasion. In fact, the first time they’d met, she’d actually found him rather charming. 

She’d been visiting the BBA office in Paris during the Bladebreakers first tour of Europe. Mr Dickenson had requested an update following Tyson’s match with Oliver, so she’d snuck off from her teammates while Tyson finished another bottomless brunch at the hotel. Of course, Dickenson had forgotten their meeting and his assistant instructed her to wait in the lobby. 

Steph couldn’t remember who struck up the conversation first - had he commented on the book she’d been reading while she waited, or had she caught a glimpse what was playing on his iPod? Whichever the case, the discussion that followed suggested that in another place and time they would be friends, possibly more. 

When she’d introduced herself as a beyblader however, his attitude toward her suddenly turned cold. 

She had never found out why Matt disliked beyblading so much, especially when his younger brother, T.K, was one of Tyson’s biggest fans. 

“You didn’t answer my other question,” Becky’s pout could be heard between the sound of crumbling cookies, drawing Steph’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “Is he good looking at least?” 

“He’s not … unattractive,” Steph conceded. “His personality on the other hand …”

Becky laughed again, this time so hard that the phone tumbled out of her hand and hit the floor with a thud and Steph glared at the now empty screen. “I’m not kidding,” she said. “His attitude makes Kai seem like a ray of sunshine.” 

“I give it a week,” Becky said. “Two tops - before you’re making out with him in the library surrounded by the works of Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde.”

“Fat chance of that,” Steph grumbled, ignoring Becky’s cackle as they said their goodbyes before hanging up. 

The only time she, Steph Summers, would be caught making out with the likes of Matt Ishida in the library was when hell froze over. Or so she thought …