Hi guys! So I want to start off by thanking brave kid for the wonderful ideas and for graciously giving me the honor of writing it! I hope this fic pleases everyone!

And now, enjoy this prologue!

….

"The art of beyblade is even encouraged due to its therapeutic benefits. Not only is it uplifting for a blader to win a battle, but some bladers have even reported having a spiritual connection to their bey spirit, or bit-beast. While a bit-beast can appear at crucial moments in a battle and its feelings can even be sensed by its owner, it has yet to speak directly to man. (More information on this controversy on page 178.)

"Beyblading is not only considered a hardcore sport in which bladers "battle it out" to see who can become the best, however that is what it is used for most. Many people have launched their bey merely for the inspiring feeling one can experience in seeing a little top touch the ground as a result of his or her own hard work and training. When asked to explain what this feels like, many bladers can only say that one must "pick up a Beyblade and see for himself" that it is "not something that can be explained, but something that must be felt."

Interesting….

The teenage boy marked his page with a torn piece of paper, littered with messy cursive notes in blue ink. He slipped his glasses off and polished the lenses with the bottom of his pine-green shirt before perching them once again on the bridge of his pointed nose. Placing the book on the side table next to his recliner, he rose to his feet and lifted his arms up in a luxurious stretch, the bones crackling along his spine in response. He took a peek at the clock hanging on the wall over the couch.

12:52 p.m.

He bent down and reached for the lamp to click it off, the only source of light disappearing and flooding his room with shadows. He left everything where it was and headed for the door, pulling it closed as he left. No sooner than he exited the silence of his bedroom was he greeted by the hushed murmur of the television downstairs. His feet carried him swiftly down the stairs and led him to the kitchen where his mother was hovering over the stove with a pot in hand.

"Ah! Jacques," she greeted him as he plopped into a chair at the table. The older woman snuck a glance at him over her shoulder. "Nice of you to join me for lunch before your trip."

The teenage boy blinked his sky blue eyes slowly, watching her dance around the kitchen as if she were still young. She was always like this, especially when it came to cooking. Had it not been for her childlike behavior and love for experimenting with the taste buds, she would've never opened the famous bakery that Jacques and his parents were known for.

"I couldn't just leave without a goodbye," he said simply, blinking gratitude at her as she set a bowl of pasta on the place mat in front of him. She served herself a dish as well, then took a seat across from her son.

"So what do you intend to do when you get there?" the blonde woman asked.

Jacques swallowed a bite. "Study."

"You're taking a month-long trip to Japan, and all you're going to do is study?" His mother stared at him for a moment as though waiting for an answer, but when he finally opened his mouth to respond, she interrupted him. "I mean, I'm proud of you, and all. But you spend all of your time reading, unless you're at Alex's house…probably reading. Don't you ever want to have fun? To have friends? To date?"

A blush crept to his cheeks, and Jacques dropped his fork as he coughed to hide his choking. He lifted a napkin to his lips, desperately wishing that he could hide himself from his mother. Had she seriously just asked that? How embarrassing!

"I – I do have friends! And I don't need to d-date," the blond boy stammered defensively, trying his best to fight the heat that rose to his face.

The woman across from him twirled her fork around some of the spaghetti in her bowl, her deep blue eyes fixed on her food the whole time. "You read way too much. If you joined your father and I in working at the bakery, you may find yourself under a lot less stress."

"Mom!" Jacques brought a fist down hard onto the table, and it sent a spark of pain up through his arm. There was no hiding the bright shade of red that stained his skin and gave away his embarrassment. Why did she have to bring up his lack of friends? It wasn't like he was completely alone in the world; he had his best friend, Alex, who completely understood him in his love for reading. And there were a few others that he would talk to every now and then.

Granted, it would be nice to have more friends…

She lifted her hands in defense. "I'm just saying…"

An awkward silence washed over them, and they resumed eating, the only noise the clank of silverware on dishes. Jacques didn't look back up to meet his mother's gaze, but he could feel her watching him the whole time. Once finished, Jacques promptly stood, dismissed himself, and went straight into the bathroom upstairs. Upon walking in, he was greeted by a floor-length mirror reflecting back the appearance of the poor unfortunate nerd he knew himself to be.

A tall, lean teenage boy, wearing baggy pants and a tight shirt to show off his thin frame. Flawless tanned skin. Sandy-blonde hair that stood taller than any person would think possible, pulled back into a small ponytail. Sky blue eyes that held compassion. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Bright white teeth, with one tooth as a fang-like extension.

Jacques walked into his bedroom and retrieved a few books from his bookshelf, placing them neatly in his open suitcase. Those were the last things he needed; zipping the green bag up, he struggled to lift it with one hand and made his way down the stairs. After saying goodbye to his supportive mother, paying a visit to the bakery to say the same to his father, and dropping by Alex's place for a brief visit, he'd be on his way to the airport to take a flight.

England to Japan.

To watch a battle between two bladers he'd heard to be among the best in the world.

Reviews mean the world to me!

(:Mizune