The Aoi household was currently operating at a decibel level that would violate several international zoning laws.
The living room behind the bakery was packed. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, a massive banner reading *CONGRATULATIONS VALT AND RYU!* was taped lopsidedly to the wall, and the coffee table groaned under the weight of at least forty different freshly baked pastries.
Ryu O'Hara sat on the edge of the sofa. He wasn't wearing his heavy black jacket, having draped it neatly over the back of a dining chair. He wore a simple, dark grey t-shirt.
He held a remarkably complex, pizza-flavored Beybread in his hand.
"I'm telling you, it's impossible!" Rantaro Kiyama yelled, pointing a half-eaten sausage roll at Ryu. "You just ate three of those! Where does it go?! You don't even chew fast"
"My metabolic rate is high," Ryu replied smoothly, taking another measured bite. The flat, robotic deadpan of the District Qualifiers was completely gone. His voice was relaxed, and the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a faint, highly amused smirk. "You, on the other hand, are swallowing air. You will experience severe gastrointestinal distress in approximately twenty minutes."
"Don't jinx my stomach, Dark Prince!" Rantaro groaned, though he immediately slowed down his chewing.
"Ryu-sama!"
Ryu paused mid-bite.
Nika and Toko popped up from behind the sofa like two synchronized meerkats. Nika was holding a piece of bright pink construction paper covered in an aggressive amount of glitter. She slammed it onto the coffee table right in front of him.
"We made you an official VIP membership card for your fanclub!" Nika beamed, pointing at the crude, sparkly drawing of Ryu's face. "Since you ran away at the mall, we decided to be your managers!"
Ryu looked at the glittery paper. He looked at the twins.
For a second, the BeyClub held its breath. The old Ryu would have bolted through the fastest exit and vaulted through a window.
Instead, Ryu reached out. He picked up the incredibly sticky piece of construction paper by the edges. He studied the crayon drawing with absolute seriousness.
"The design of this glitter application is flawed. It is shedding," Ryu noted quietly. Then, he carefully folded it and slipped it into his pocket. "However, I will archive it in my official documents. Thank you."
Nika and Toko gasped, their eyes shining like actual stars, before running off into the kitchen to tell their mother that the Dark Prince accepted their tribute.
Daigo Kurogami snorted from his spot leaning against the wall. "You're getting soft, Ryu."
"I am adapting to my environment," Ryu corrected, taking a sip of water.
Ken's blue puppet, Keru, barked from across the room. "You're just happy you won! We all are! But man... it feels a little quiet without him."
The loud, chaotic energy in the living room dialed back a fraction.
Valt, who had been aggressively inhaling a chocolate croissant, stopped chewing. He looked down at the floor.
Shu Kurenai wasn't there.
He hadn't answered any texts. He hadn't answered any calls. Since the moment he walked out of the stadium infirmary holding the shattered halves of Storm Spriggan, the white-haired prodigy had effectively vanished from the district.
"He just needs time," Valt said, though his voice lacked its usual booming confidence. He gripped his knees. "Shu is... Shu is really strong. He just needs to figure things out."
Daigo adjusted his bandana, his dark eyes shadowed. "He didn't just lose, Valt. He broke his partner. That kind of impact doesn't just heal with rest. It changes how you see the stadium."
Ryu sat back against the sofa cushions. He didn't offer empty comfort. He knew exactly what had happened on that stage. The match had torn Shu apart because Shu had let the pressure warp his mind.
"He is currently drowning," Ryu stated quietly, the blunt reality of his words grounding the room. "If he reaches for a lifeline, he will return. If he decides to swim deeper into the dark, he will become something else entirely. We cannot make that choice for him."
Valt looked at Ryu. He knew the silver-haired boy was right. The stadium was unforgiving.
Suddenly, Valt slapped both of his cheeks with a loud *smack*, forcefully resetting his own aura. He leaped up onto the coffee table, narrowly avoiding a plate of muffins.
"Valt, get off the table!" Chiharu Aoi scolded good-naturedly from the kitchen doorway, holding a fresh tray of cookies.
"Mom, wait! I have an announcement!" Valt yelled, reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a crumpled, slightly sweat-stained envelope bearing an official international postage stamp.
Rantaro blinked. "Is that a bill? Did you break something at the stadium?"
"No!" Valt grinned, practically vibrating with excitement. He tore the envelope open and pulled out a heavy piece of parchment. "It's an invitation! From Spain!"
The entire room went completely silent.
Daigo's eyes widened. "Spain?"
"BC Sol!" Valt cheered, holding the letter high above his head. "They saw the broadcast of the National Tournament! They saw my match against Xander and my tie against Ryu! The owner sent me a direct scouting invite! I'm going to the World League!"
"WHAT?!" Rantaro screamed, jumping up so fast he knocked his chair backward. "You're getting scouted by a European elite team?! Are you kidding me?!"
Ken's puppets both gasped in unison. "Valt, that's amazing! You're going international!"
Ryu sat perfectly still. Spain. BC Sol.
He remembered the sunlit stadium. He remembered the golden-haired prodigy with the lazy eyes who had flown to his island , only to leave with a shattered Beyblade. The world stage was an entirely different ecosystem of monsters.
Valt jumped off the table, completely buzzing with adrenaline. "I leave in two weeks! I'm going to take Valkyrie to the top of the world! I'm going to fight the absolute strongest bladers on the planet!"
Valt turned to Ryu, his brown eyes burning with a fierce, unwavering challenge. "You better be there, Ryu! I'm not letting you sit in Tokyo while I'm out fighting the world!"
Ryu reached into his pocket. His fingers brushed against the unshelled core of Eclipse Nidhogg. The white polycarbonate armor had been entirely destroyed in the Grand Final against Lui. What remained was the dense, jagged, dark violet core. It was incredibly powerful, but it was raw. It lacked the flawless aerodynamic balance required to survive the long, grueling gauntlet of the World League.
Ryu pulled the dark Beyblade out. He looked at the glowing, jagged eye of the dragon.
"I cannot go right now," Ryu said.
Valt blinked, his smile faltering. "What? Why not? You're the National Champion! They'd beg you to join a team!"
"I do not join teams," Ryu reminded him smoothly. He stood up from the sofa, the dark violet Bey resting in his palm. "And my equipment is currently compromised. Nidhogg shed its armor to break Shirasagijo. It is raw mass. If I step onto the world stage with an unbalanced axis, I will be dismantled."
Rantaro frowned. "So what are you going to do? The WBBA mechanics can print you a new layer in an hour."
"WBBA mechanics print plastic," Ryu said, his mismatched eyes entirely serious. "Nidhogg requires a forge."
Ryu picked up his black jacket from the back of the chair. He slipped it on, the heavy fabric settling familiarly over his shoulders.
"I am returning to the island," Ryu announced.
.
.
.
The room went quiet.
"Wait," Valt stepped forward, his eyes wide. "You're going back ? You're going back to hiding?"
Ryu stopped. He looked at Valt. He remembered the silence of his private estate. He remembered the crushing, apathetic boredom that had defined his existence for three years.
Then, Ryu smiled. It was a small, sharp, incredibly warm expression that completely transformed his face.
"I am not hiding, Valt," Ryu said, his voice rich with an absolute, undeniable competitive thrill. "I am going home to build a monster."
Valt stared at him for a second. Then, the massive, blinding grin returned to the rookie's face. He understood perfectly.
Ryu walked toward the front door of the bakery. Valt followed him out into the cool Tokyo night. The neon signs buzzed gently overhead, a stark contrast to the blinding lights of the National Dome.
"Two weeks," Valt said, standing on the sidewalk. "I'm flying out to Spain. I'm going to get so strong you won't even recognize my launch."
Ryu turned to face him. He didn't offer a polite bow. He held out his right fist.
Valt's eyes lit up. He instantly raised his own fist, bumping his knuckles firmly against Ryu's.
"Stand proud, Valt," Ryu said quietly, the streetlights reflecting in his pale pink and slate grey eyes. "Conquer your bracket. I will be waiting at the top."
"Count on it, Ryu!" Valt yelled, waving enthusiastically as Ryu turned and walked down the street toward the train station.
Ryu didn't look back, but he kept his hands out of his pockets. He listened to the chaotic, distant noise of the city. He thought about Shu, lost in the dark. He thought about Lui, waiting for revenge. He thought about the golden-haired prodigy in Spain who was currently sleeping at the summit of the world.
He opened his hand, looking down at the jagged, dark violet core of Nidhogg resting in his palm.
The Beyblade vibrated heavily, a deep, rhythmic pulse of pure hunger. It had tasted absolute power, and it wanted more.
"Yes," Ryu whispered to the dark dragon, a fierce, feral excitement bleeding into his quiet voice as he looked up at the night sky.
"It's time for an upgrade."