The Butterfly Effect

The Right Choice (END)

Our battle takes place in a room that I don't quite recognize. Maybe it's my foggy memory, or maybe I have never been in that room before, but even so, I know deja vu when I feel it.

The Bey he holds up looks a lot like my own. I recognize the shape and the way it reflects the light. The color scheme is a bit darker: more black, and darker reds. It's Spriggan, only a darker, shadowy version. I don't say a word about it.

"You ready?" I ask him. There's no point in wasting time. I want this battle over with, and I want it over with now. It hasn't even started yet, and I already want it to end.

"Of course," he answers.

No more waiting. We take our stances, and before I know it, we count down and our Beys go flying into the stadium, ready and willing to take each other out. They circle each other for a moment, us apparently having used the same technique without realizing it.

"See why I think you would thrive here?" Ashram speaks directly to me, something that doesn't often happen during Bey battles. "You were born for this. I see myself in you."

I don't want to answer him. "We launched the same because we're using the same Bey," I say after giving it some thought.

"Is that really the only reason? Or does it run deeper than that?"

At last, our Beys clash, and sharp pain slices through my chest. My connection with Spriggan is stronger than I thought. Ashram doesn't wince, which is how I know he bears no connection with the Bey he's using.

"That is the only reason," I say, and he smirks at me.

"That stubbornness, that determination, it speaks volumes about you." He isn't even looking at the stadium at this point. I can feel his eyes burning straight into my head. "You definitely have what it takes to be the greatest. I saw it the moment I laid eyes on you. You've been dreaming of this, and working to achieve it."

"This? No. My dream is much different than whatever you have in mind." I watch Spriggan closely. It's movements. It's feeling the same anxiousness I am. I have to channel that anxiety, I have to use it differently, or else it could mean the end of this.

"What is your dream, Mr. Kurenai?"

"To make it all the way to the top." Think about that, instead. Don't think about the man you're talking to. "I want to win the World League and become a champion."

"Why?"

Why? Nobody has ever asked me why I dream something. It seems like a strange question at first, but after thinking about it for a moment, I realize that it's not so strange. It's a question that everybody should ask. We are our own worst critics, and we ought to challenge our own beliefs and notions.

Why do we dream these things? Why do I want to win so badly?

"Because," I say, forcing myself to think. "Because it's my passion."

"What is? Blading? Winning?"

"Working hard and succeeding. I love the feeling of hard work paying off."

When I first picked up a Bey, I had no clue how to use it. Valt always beat me in every single match. Since then, I trained harder than I've ever trained for anything. Once I did win my first match, the feeling of success, that thought in my head that all my hard work had paid off, it felt incredible.

Since then, I haven't stopped. I won't stop until my hard work takes me all the way to the top. Even if there is no reason other than that, I want to make it.

And hopefully, when I get older, that feeling will stick with me, and I'll be willing to work hard at everything I do.

"Childhood determination," he says, "I wish more people kept that with them. You tell a kid they can't do something, they'll do everything in their power to prove you wrong. I ought to know; I was the same way. I still am, to tell you the truth."