bird of a feather flock together
OKAY SO A FRIEND COMMISSIONNED AS A JOKE THREE YEARS AGO TO WRITE HIM A FIC SHU X READER FOR FUN BECAUSE HE DOESN’T LIKE SHU ANDJKEJEJFJKDJKGKJ I. FINALLY DID IT. I AM DONE
You have been walking for several hours now. One, two, three, perhaps... Let it rip. No, no. This isn't it. Four hours... Five hours, probably. Certainly not "one, two... etc". You took a stroll in order to forget what happened.
-You liar! You're lying! Don't tell us you can see spirits in Beys or whatnot! That's not true and you know it! You're just trying to take space in the spotlight! You ain't Zac or Valt or Shu or big shots! You're just like us! Liar!
If they were several or one voice, it's hard to recall. They would almost make some kind of disgust for Beyblade weedily blossom in your being, whether it be your bones or brain. So you went away. Perhaps they'll think it over. Maybe they'll stop talking to you. You cannot know for sure as for now. You may have gotten lost amongst this huge world, with only a Beyblade you're not sure you cannot trust anymore. The world sure looks bigger. Looming over. A circle of blue, yet not a circle. A kind of Jörmugandr, and yet not an ouroboros either. But you saw something. For sure! Valt Aoi, Shu Kurenai, Free de la Hoya saw it too. Not yours especially. But them. They said they've seen theirs. And you've seen them too. Their descriptions match. So you are not hallucinating. You may have, before. You may someday. But now...?
Where are you? Where were you? That wasn't grass and tiny stadiums anymore. Or at least, you don't see them. Big chunks of concrete. Big vertical chunks of concrete. Chunks of glass, stuck to it. Chunks of tar on the ground. Chunks of paint on it. Chunks of blue high above, perhaps further. Chunks, chunks, chunks? Probably chunks of Beyblade somewhere. No... Not chunks. They're not chunks. They have a spirit, right? You didn't hallucinate, did you? You didn't, for sure. So, they aren't chunks. Perhaps everything is a chunk right now. But it ain't going to last. Soon they won't be chunks anymore. You look at your Beyblade. She shines. "It" doesn't shine. She shines. Yep, for sure, she glitters, she glimmers, she shines, she radiates.
-Oh... Is it possible that... No. You are a Blader, right?
A chunk of voice... Nope. A soft, or maybe a, bit deep, voice. Red eyes. Yes, the one facing you sure has two red eyes you have known for a while. Was he part of the reason you first started Beyblade? Probably not. You didn't like him at first, after all. Kurenai Shu had been arrogant, and somehow condescending at some point. To the point where he lost himself. But he had been better and better during all of these years as well. So this white hair didn't look like a chunk of bone anymore. His black coat sure had gone smaller over the years, especially since the last time he wore it, he seemed much younger. What have you answered, already? He just took your hand. He seemed sad, somehow. White, white skin. Will it become pearly? Jellyfish-like?
-Hey, come on. You are a Blader, but you don't seem like playing Beyblade right now, right? Let us walk a bit, shall we?
It wasn't like being alone in that situation would have been any better, anyway. Even if he was older, he could have been stupid, sure. But he had learned about the Blading Spirit and passion, after all. ... Maybe his scar was redder than ever, and yet perfectly delimited. Or the other way around. Chunks of green. Small pieces of grass, yes. "Blades of grass"...
Ferris wheels. Toy horses. Music.
-Ah, maybe you did not want to hear that much noise, considering you were seeking peace. We'll just be going through. Is it alright with you?
A Blader inviting you to some kind of amusement park then cancelling his plans sure sounded like a hoax. Especially coming from Shu Kurenai. Although that could have been Akaba Aiga, Valt Aoi... who knows whom. You walked along. He walked along. Chunks again, or pure things. The ferris wheel sure was full of people. And there were... lights everywhere. Blue, red, pink, purple, green, orange, yellow, at least. One, two, three... one, two, three. Two x three, perhaps. And three x one, maybe. Furthermore, one x two? It was very likely possible to count all of them. For sure. It would take time, yeah. Not that much with someone... Well, maybe still a while, but still, divided by two at least. Horses, cows, perhaps foxes and mascots, were working on the carrousel.
-Be careful. If you were to collide, you may end up falling and losing your Bey.... She would be sad, wouldn't she?
A sorrel horse. By decaying yet shining paint covered. The glittering color was still on his wood body, no matter how rot tried to grab him. Someone would paint him over, with the exact same hue. And the chestnut horse, or perhaps foal, would live on. Partnership would keep his black, almond eyes, alive. His barely pointy hoofs were tainted by lustruous black. His sorrel mane seemed made of ropes, somehow. He disappeared at the other end of the carrousel's globe.
You... reached the end of the soon-to-rotate-in-time amusement park. The numerous, rainbow-like, lights were in your back, now. For sure, they were. Some of them kept on lighting the way, yours, and Shu's. Probably 5 of them, yes. A red one, a blue one, another red one, a purple one, a green one. Five of them. That you could shake off. That you could count for sure. As long as there was... someone by your side. But these "someone" could as well make mistakes...
-My, my! Would you see that... The Moon Thief!
-Ciel, ciel! Would you see that... Le Blader Justicier!
A smoothy-haired silhouette projected on the wall, from the right, maybe. A spiky-haired silhouette projected on the wall, from the left maybe. Shu didn't move, and you neither. The first one, yes, the first one, for sure, clad in large clothes, breathing darkness onto the wall. The second one, shielded by short, usually tight clothes. Two known voices. The voice of the night, of the almost-silence, of the polite writing. The voice of the day, overflowing, of the short writing. Large, indecisive, rounded gloves of the softness of the clouds. Sharp, thin, fingers facing the sun.
-My mask is my true self, not what I aspire to.
-My mask is what I aspire to be, not myself still.
-Without her, I can't hope to understand you, shiny faker.
-Without her, I can't hope to understand you, nasty Lupin.
-My brother, yet not quite.
-My brother, yet not quite!
The thief moved as a bird on the wall, was a stork. The idol dropped as an owl. They reached out as ravens, walked back as sparrows. Took off their Beyblades. They took each other's hands, and disappeared, jumping or dropping again.
-I thought it would be interesting not to interrupt them. I hope you understand.
You nodded. You sure did understand what the hell these two clowns were doing. Because they probably weren't clowns.
-I see I wasn't wrong about you. Well, then...
Five of his soft, devoid of gloves, fingers clasped around yours. Not the same, not the same, not the same. Hands of bladers, hands of bladers, hands of bladers. He smiled, definitely. He smiled, definitely, to you. Eyes of red, asking you several things, but only two in the end.
-...want to beybattle now? Spriggan will help me to understand you. I want that.
