World Beyblade Organization by Fighting Spirits Inc.

A DRAMATIC CONCLUSION!
It was rumoured that not a single man could tame such barbaric power. Fortunately I existed. Equality travelled throughout the corporation known as The Uniformed Beyblade Association. It provided an inconceivable magnitude of power to bladers. It was known few bladers could afford such a treatment and evolve the average human body to that no drug-abuse could provide. It was clear to the UBA that my unique body could control power to a limitless degree. Since the age of just three, beyblading had been a vigorously competitive activity throughout the family. A passion for my brother and I to reach the paramount of success burned within us.
As a child, my brother and I trained ruthlessly wherever possible. The fog was heavy due to the cities heavy pollution, following the movements of our beys on the streets was a hefty provocation, predicting where the nugget of metal would bounce next challenged both our eyesight and sense of judgement. It was not until my brother Tai hopped after his bey that scraped itself onto the tarmac of the road. Naively hopping after it, I couldn’t blame him, the filthy pavement merged colours with the road. He went to pick it up, the second it made contact with his hand, a four by four made more than just contact on his whole body.
Before the doctor could return information on his wellbeing, it flickered fate blew away the promise we made each other in the past. To this day, the right side of his body is utterly paralysed, no beylauncher pulling, no money for surgery. The UBO will allow funding for the surgery that Tai needed so helplessly. The twinkle deep within his eye advocated ripping the string of a beylauncher once again. The Wind & Shoot wasn’t suitable to please anyone, not even him.
My assignment was to join team UK to make them acknowledge the circumstances. Beyblading had become so popular, the reputation of a country itself evolved into depending on how dynamic they were at beyblading. To equalise each countries reputation, battles were fixed by the UBO, the bladers themselves were forced to follow. I was to watch over the UK and any signs of rebellion. The UK’s reaction to the UBO’s rules did not please me, it was clear that the fixture to lose in the first round didn’t satisfying them at all, as they did not try to hide the pain within them.
The day of the World tournament’s first fixture had well awoken, orders were sent to me from the UBO to deal with the rebellious behaviour of the UK. The order instructed an agent to injure the UK representative before the match in order to give his game an autoloss to ensure the loss was to be made. I sat around the corner of the stadium where the roars of thousands of enthusiasts lay. The UK representative, Brian Dooney showed up, the height of his chest itself showed bottomless fortitude, it was clear his decision to go against intentions had been long decided. Staring from a small hill not too far away, half a dozen men, clearly from the UBO hidden sectors appeared from both sides of the backdoor.
Upon noticing the men surrounding Brian, he reached for his launcher – Before he could even feel for his necessities, the men were armed with lethal blades locked on. I focussed my eyes on the one red laser pointing at Brian’s arm; it was aiming straight for his launching arm. That one red laser turned out to be all of the half-dozen men pointing at the same cubit marsh pressure point. The UBO had progressed to a new form of insanity; they planned on forcing a loss on the UK through eradicating the boy’s arm? Blinding my speculation projected the scenario when Tai knelt down to pick up his blade for the very last time.
“Target locked, annihilating,” was followed by a tensing of muscles and a high-pitched zip. Brian’s eyes mirrored half a dozen dollops of metal flying at him, each at seven-thousand rotations per minute. The sharpened metal wheel of the first blade made contact with Brians coat, just beginning to tear through his- In came a shot of red. Watching helplessly yet again wasn’t an option today. The shot of red was my bey but more importantly, the ridicule speed my reactions were to deflect the blades that were on course to hit Brian.
“We’ve been spotted! Mission failed, return to bases,” went the lieutenant/leader of the operation.
Two hours later, the exit of the stadium was filled with convivial UK amateurs. Only across the road demonstrated the UBO headquarters, the seventeenth floor was remodelled with shattered glass and halved tables.
“UBO FIXES WBBA RESULTS” was front page news worldwide for weeks. The UBO’s reign of disgusting fixed games was coming to an end, but who was to pay for Tai’s surgery?

It was an era of loss, it was an era of gain.
It was an era of beginning, yet an era of the end.
The world had counted me out, left me to strive to become a regular member of society in such a way that I am still not today. But it is a start, right? We all have to start somewhere, no? Well, I did. I think.
It wasn’t easy to get used to the idea that I was alone, I won’t lie on that. But was I free of my troubles? Hell no. At that point, I was forced to enter every tournament I saw, unable to support myself otherwise. The game just…wasn’t as fun anymore. Gil and I won time and time again, hoping to find that spark, the thing that made playing Beyblade so fun to begin with. But to me, nothing would ever be the same. I was on the verge of simply sucking it up and going back to the home.
“No. I can’t do THAT. Then everything I put Jan and Terrance through…it’d be for nothing. I miss them, don’t you, Gil?” As usual, my last friend was silent. “Huh…maybe you should talk to me more often, don’t you think?” Again, I got no reply. I sighed and moved on, wondering if I could keep this up.
Weeks later…
“Gil! Thunder Crash!” I was finally backed against a wall. Gil had almost no spin left, and my opponent’s Quetzalcoatl 90RF was bashing my relatively light bey around. “Don’t give up yet, Gil! We can do this!” Quetzalcoatl charged for a final blow, but the rubber on Gil’s CS helped it move out of the way easily. “We can’t lose now, Gil! We just…can’t! We’ve come so far! We’ve done so much! One more time! Just…give it all you’ve got, Gil! Thunder Crash!” And for once, Gil responded. Not with words, but with actions. It sped up, all caution going to the wind. The two adversaries collided with brute force, the sound from their awe-inspiring clash reverberating across the room. Shot after shot Gil delivered, slowly obtaining the upper hand. But its spin was way too low to drag this out.
“One more time! Finish it!” Gil gives one last dying shove, and pushed Quetzalcoatl out of the arena, and I collapsed to my knees, overjoyed at the rush I felt. THIS is what Beyblade is about.
“Freeze! You’re not going anywhere!” I chuckled, wondering how I would get myself out of this mess. I turned, placing my hands on my head. Though I was dismayed, I was…relieved. I could finally let go of this difficult way of life. Playing with Gil was one thing, living off of the wins is another. “You’re coming with us!”
“Well, we had a good run, didn’t we?” Again, Gil didn’t answer as I was shoved into the car and cuffed. And what did I do? I laughed. What else was there to do? For all of my work was for naught. Nothing. I fall asleep, wondering if I was ever going to find a home…
…
…
…

“Get out.” I was led into the foster care center, the harbinger of all my troubles. I was left there for days, then weeks. I was honestly thinking of running again when I was called to the front door. This is my chance, I thought. If I could make it past the guards, I was free again! I bounded down the steps while some of the other kids gave me dirty looks, obviously hateful for something. I wondered what it was for. By the time I had reached the bottom of the stairs, I could see a face that I remembered from before.

I slow down, cautiously walking up to this new person, hand in my pocket clamped over Gil. “…I recognize you from somewhere. I wonder why?” The lady smiled, and I flash back to my three years with Anna.

“I’m Emma Waters. You already knew my sister. Oh, and these are for you.” She handed me two sheets of paper while I stood mouth open in shock. After a few seconds, I finally got my mouth to force out words.

“What are these?”

“One is a document stating that your last name has been changed. The other…well, that’s the final document for your permanent adoption. Welcome to the family, Al.” I collapsed to my knees, unable to withhold tears from streaming. “My sister told me to come get you if something happened. Sorry for the delay, but there was an…issue that needed dealing with.”

“No, that’s okay. As long as you tell me what that problem was one day, I’ve no reason to complain.”

“It’s been three years, hasn’t it? Well, how about we go home.” Home. That’s a word I thought I would never hear again. I don’t even attempt to stop myself from crying now. I wept and nodded, finally leaving that place. I had a home. A family. A new beginning. I pull out Gil and my tears stain the face.

“We did it, Gil. We have a home now.” And finally, after all these years, Gil responds. It pulsates in my hand, and I knew. Gil was also waiting for a home. And we had finally found one.