This chapter is now rewritten, I hope you all enjoy :) apologies for the late update
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The consequences of staying up late were beginning to take their toll on Y/n, and she was no exception to its effects. Her bleary eyes fixed on the clock with a mixture of annoyance and exhaustion as she stumbled through the process of putting on her shirt. The sleeves seemed to tangle around her arms as if they had a mind of their own, and the struggle only added to her mounting frustration.
Y/n couldn't deny that it wasn't time's fault she was running late. She was fully aware that her late-night endeavors were entirely self-inflicted. But, as she grappled with her clothing, a part of her yearned to place the blame on time anyway; it was the easiest scapegoat to grasp in this bleary-eyed moment.
Chris's stern instructions had been crystal clear: punctuality was non-negotiable, and everyone was expected to be on time. She glanced at the clock once more, realizing that she was already fifteen minutes behind schedule, a fact that didn't sit well with her.
The mere thought of Chris's reaction, along with the potential judgmental gazes of her new teammates, sent a shiver down Y/n's spine. She didn't even want to imagine how they might perceive her tardiness. In a hurry, she dashed out of her room and started a frantic journey through the labyrinthine hallways and flights of stairs, her heart pounding in her chest.
Her face burned with embarrassment as she envisioned the critical eyes of her fellow team members locked onto her, their hushed whispers and exchanged glances echoing in her mind. The anticipation of getting scolded or called out for her lateness only fueled her anxiety. Y/n shook her head in an attempt to dispel those intrusive thoughts. She knew she would have to confront the embarrassment head-on; there was no other way. With each step, she steeled herself to face the consequences of her tardiness and make amends as best as she could.
When Y/n finally reached the front door, she couldn't help but feel a little out of breath, a side effect of her frantic rush. Taking a brief mental pause, she allowed herself thirty seconds of internal turmoil before summoning the resolve to open the door.
As she had anticipated, all eyes in the room immediately landed on her, their gazes intense and scrutinizing. Y/n couldn't discern whether their looks were filled with judgment or understanding, but it hardly mattered at that moment. What did matter was the fact that Chris was striding purposefully in her direction.
A gulp of nervousness caught in her throat, and her face flushed with embarrassment. The presence of Free, with his characteristic lazy smirk, only added to the pressure she was feeling. She swallowed hard as Chris came to a halt directly in front of her, cringing under her gaze, her expression undeniably irritated, and she noticed that Trad, too, appeared far from pleased with the situation. It was a daunting moment, and Y/n steeled herself for the imminent confrontation, ready to face the consequences of her stupidity.
"Y/n! We've been waiting for you for twenty minutes. What did I tell you yesterday?!" Chris's voice cut through the room, carrying an unmistakable tone of annoyance.
The atmosphere in the room seemed to shift. People snickered and glanced around, seeking approval for their behavior, and many found it. Stan couldn't contain his laughter, blatantly pointing and staring at her. However, not everyone joined in the mockery. Valt and Rantaro appeared more concerned than amused, their expressions showing hints of worry. Free, on the other hand, was an enigma, his demeanor far from pleased. He seemed genuinely irritated, though Y/n couldn't discern the exact reason.
Y/n's face turned a deep shade of crimson, and she felt herself trembling, her cheeks burning hot, and her ears buzzing with the overwhelming embarrassment of the situation.
"I-I'm sorry... I slept in," she stammered, her voice shaky, as she tried her best not to break down right there and then. Unfortunately, her stutter only seemed to fuel the laughter of those around her, and the cruel atmosphere left her wondering what was wrong with this place. Free, in particular, appeared to be growing more furious by the second, though she remained uncertain about the source of his frustration.
Chris's sigh echoed through the room, a heavy gust of disappointment. She shook her head slowly, her eyes revealing the depth of her frustration. "I made it very clear yesterday, Y/n," her voice carried the weight of her stern warning. "I'm truly disappointed in you."
As she spoke, Y/n could feel her heart sink. The consequences of her actions were unfolding before her, and it was a hard pill to swallow. Chris's words continued, each one hammering the point home. "Today, I had intended to team you up with Valt and Free. A chance to learn and grow with them. However, given the circumstances, I'll be assigning Rantaro to that team instead," she stated, her tone laced with a measure of regret.
The sense of regret only added to Y/n's burden of shame. Her opportunity to work closely with two of her new teammates was slipping away, replaced by the heavy weight of her mistake. Chris's final words were a somber reminder of the consequences of her actions: "I hope this serves as a lesson for you. Now, go take a seat."
Y/n nodded in a subdued manner, her embarrassment palpable. She felt the weight of every eye in the room as she began her slow walk of shame, her head bowed low. Her steps carried the burden of her mistakes, and she couldn't help but feel the ghostly snickers that followed her like shadows. With determined resolve, she moved to a seat on the far side of the room, distancing herself from the others, her isolation a stark reminder of where she placed in BC sol.
Y/n's inner frustration and self-loathing swirled within her as she cursed herself under her breath. Losing her coveted spot and becoming the subject of laughter from her peers was a bitter pill to swallow. She couldn't help but feel a strong resentment toward those who took pleasure in her misfortune. Was this what people found enjoyment in? It was an agonizing realization of the harsh realities of this world, one that she struggled to put into words.
Stan's snickers, Django's sly smirk and nod, and Sasha's outright laughter served as painful reminders of the collective amusement they found in her mistakes. Y/n's anger simmered beneath the surface as she tried to regain her composure, determined to prove herself in the future despite this setback. The hurt she felt was profound, but she wasn't ready to let it define her place within the team.
"Y/n?"
Her response was a mumbled, "What," delivered with little enthusiasm. She wasn't in the mood for anything at the moment, feeling the weight of her embarrassment still lingering.
To her surprise, Free took a seat beside her. His usual bored expression remained intact, but there was a certain seriousness in his voice as he inquired, "You okay?"
Y/n let out a scoff and tried to keep her lower lip from trembling, suppressing her usual snarky retorts. "What's wrong with this place?" She whispered fiercely, her frustration evident.
Free leaned back slightly, his gaze remaining on her. "Not what you expected?"
She shook her head, exhaling a heavy sigh. Free's soft grip on her arm was unexpected but strangely reassuring. "Ignore them," he advised, offering a glimmer of support in this mess, before walking away. Who knew sleeping in could be turned into such a big deal?
As Y/n observed Free walking away to stand beside Valt and Rantaro, she couldn't help but wonder about his unexpected behavior earlier. What had caused his apparent frustration, she pondered. Was it solely because of her laziness, or was there more to it? And why was he being nice all of a sudden? Her curiosity stirred, but she shook her head in an attempt to put it aside.
She shifted her focus away from the rest of the team, striving to disregard their judgmental glances, which had intensified after her brief exchange with Free. Crossing her arms over her chest, she hugged herself, a subtle defense mechanism against the critical eyes. Y/n couldn't help but feel that she had gained even more unwanted attention after her interaction with Free.
Eventually, the team's attention shifted to the other group, and Y/n should have been relieved. However, her initial impression of the new team wasn't exactly favorable. Their confidence, bordering on cockiness, particularly from someone named Sisco, left a sour taste in her mouth.
Y/n couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps the world of Beyblade blading was populated with people who were as annoying and arrogant as her own teammates. Wakiya's demeanor, in particular, struck her as that of a spoiled brat, and his air of self-importance didn't make him any more likable. As for Free, he was being his usual cocky self, oozing confidence and not making any efforts to tone it down.
Her eyes rolled involuntarily as the sandy-blond blader easily won the battle, his swagger hard to bear. She pondered if she'd have to endure such attitudes regularly as part of her team dynamics.
Amidst the ongoing battle, Sasha made an unexpected move by coming to sit beside Y/n. The girl's demeanor puzzled Y/n, who glanced at Sasha with a mixture of confusion and wariness. The sweet smile Sasha offered was, perhaps, a tad too sweet, raising a red flag in Y/n's mind. After all, Sasha had previously been among those who had laughed at her, and Y/n couldn't easily forget that. Sasha's apparent change of heart was met with narrowed eyes and a guarded demeanor, leaving Y/n cautious about Sasha's sudden friendliness and what might be lurking beneath it.
Sasha's sweet tone matched her smile as she inquired, "Hey Y/n, are you friends with Free?"
Y/n snorted in response, her disdain clear. "Hardly," she retorted. There was no doubt in her mind about her and Free's relationship; they were certainly not friends, and Y/n was determined to keep it that way. His good looks and golden-boy image didn't endear him to her. Likewise, she was pretty certain that Free wasn't particularly fond of her either, given how often he appeared bored around her.
Sasha appeared to contemplate Y/n's response for a moment before flashing another sweet smile. "Oh well, I think it's good if you stay away from him," she advised.
Y/n raised an eyebrow, sensing something peculiar in Sasha's demeanor. "Why does that matter to you?" she asked, curiosity piqued.
Sasha shrugged nonchalantly, but her eyes held a strange, almost unnatural quality. "Just stay away, okay?"
Before Y/n could provide a response, Sasha beamed at her once more and then walked away, leaving Y/n in a state of utter confusion. Y/n shrugged, deciding it was probably best not to care. The dynamics within this team were already proving to be quite the challenge, and Y/n found herself wondering why she should invest any effort in a group that seemed so unappealing from the start.
Y/n couldn't help but contemplate the prospect that if things took a turn for the worse, worse than the daily embarrassment she was enduring, she might seriously consider leaving. What was once a dream come true had begun to feel like walking through her worst nightmares. She hoped she wouldn't wear herself out and could keep moving forward, eventually returning to her dreamlike state. But the challenges this team presented were unlike anything she had ever experienced.
Sitting alone in the lunchroom, Y/n found herself isolated as the others had already branched off. Valt and Rantaro were nowhere in sight, and after enduring a prolonged session of uncomfortable stares, she decided to leave the room with her lunch. She made sure to ask Anne for permission before her departure. The friendly smile that Anne initially wore faded as she observed Y/n's less-than-happy demeanor, and a sense of sympathy washed over her. Anne sighed to herself, resuming her cooking duties and feeling a twinge of concern for the new team member who was clearly struggling with the challenging dynamics of BC Sol.
As Y/n clutched the piece of bread in her hands, she found that by the time she reached the back of the building, it had mysteriously vanished, devoured by the invisible passage of time. With a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of her recent experiences, she settled down in the fuzzy, warm grass, her shoulders slumping in an unmistakable display of misery. Her grand ambitions of forging new friendships had seemingly crumbled, leaving her isolated instead, and the stark reality of her situation weighed heavily on her.
Y/n couldn't help but snort in self-disgust and muttered under her breath, "I messed up already." But regardless of her initial setbacks, she knew there was no turning back now. Beyblade was a passion deeply ingrained in her, a burning fire she refused to let anyone extinguish. A few snickering detractors were hardly enough to discourage her. In fact, she was determined to use this adversity as fuel for her improvement.
In her thoughts, one particular target for her newfound determination became evident: Free de la Hoya, or as some referred to him, "Mr. Golden Boy." The idea of overcoming his unwavering arrogance and proving herself against him felt like a sweet victory waiting to be claimed. She sighed and placed her palm against her cheek, her mind awash with the possibilities of a future duel with Free, even though the notion of defeating someone as formidable as him felt like an uphill battle. Nevertheless, it was precisely the challenge that fueled her determination to improve her skills and, someday, stand on equal ground with the seemingly unbeatable Free.
Y/n found herself contemplating the saying, "Nothing is impossible." The absurdity of the quote amused her, and she idly twisted strands of grass between her fingers. Whoever came up with such a statement must have been either an overly optimistic dreamer or a sarcastic mastermind. Regardless, she couldn't be bothered to delve into the origins of such clichés.
As the night descended, Y/n realized she had been alone throughout the day and during training. Curiosity about Free's whereabouts lingered in her mind. He hadn't shown up for training, and Chris appeared unfazed by his absence. Y/n couldn't help but feel a twinge of irritation—Chris scolded her for being late, yet Free seemed exempt from such reprimands.
Shaking her head, she pondered on Free. Where had he disappeared to? But then again, she mused, it didn't really matter. Y/n didn't need Free occupying her thoughts.
In the quiet of her room, Y/n rolled over in bed, stretching out in a spread-eagle position. Staring up at the ceiling, she contemplated the elusiveness of sleep. It seemed as though slumber evaded her eyes, as if sleep itself were afraid of her gaze. Y/n chuckled at her own playful musing, the sound echoing in the room before falling into a thoughtful silence.
Rolling over again, she found herself fixating on the window. A question lingered in her mind—was this why nobody seemed to like her? The isolation she felt during the day, coupled with the absence of companionship, fueled these contemplations. Y/n sighed, wrestling with her own thoughts as she navigated the labyrinth of self-doubt and introspection.
Outside the window the dark, clear sky boasted faded dots of stars stretching out in all directions. Y/n sat up, feeling restless. If sleep eluded her, why waste time confined within four walls?
With a yawn and a stretch, the h/c haired girl, seemingly unburdened by the notion of bedtime, slowly opened her bedroom door. Blaming herself for being unable to sleep wasn't on her agenda; after all, one couldn't force oneself into slumber. A fleeting memory of a supposed military trick crossed her mind, but she dismissed it as mere talk. It was too late for such tactics anyway.
Venturing into the corridor, Y/n found herself bathed in the ambient glow of moonlight and starlight. The celestial luminance painted an enchanting tapestry, casting a spell on the surroundings. It was undoubtedly picturesque, yet Y/n harbored no desire to linger in the ethereal glow.
Her attire, consisting of notably short shorts and a thin T-shirt that clung delicately to her frame, gave her pause. What had prevented her from opting for more appropriate clothing before stepping into the nocturnal canvas? It wasn't the chill in the air that concerned her; rather, it was the disconcerting notion of someone stumbling upon her in such a state of undress.
Y/n found herself at a crossroads at the top of the stairs, caught in a contemplative pause. The internal debate waged on—should she retreat to her room and change into more suitable attire or boldly proceed with her nocturnal adventure? The notion of anyone being awake at this late hour seemed implausible, yet the rhythmic chewing on her lip intensified as her mind raced through countless possibilities.
A distant office, previously obscured by shadows, suddenly illuminated with a soft glow. Within its confines, a figure moved about, bearing a striking resemblance to Trad. Despite the distance, the office was still part of the same corridor. Y/n uttered a quiet curse under her breath, grappling with the decision that loomed before her. In the end, a surge of determination propelled her forward, and she declared to the empty corridor, "Ah, screw it. I'm not turning back now."
As her resolve echoed in each measured step, Y/n descended the stairs with a careful grace. Each footfall became a silent prayer, a plea to the staircase gods that they wouldn't betray her with an untimely creak. The question lingered in her mind—why was Trad up at this ungodly hour? The mere thought of getting caught sent an involuntary shiver down Y/n's spine, and a subtle undercurrent of panic gripped her as she finally reached the ground level.
Surveying both directions of the corridor, Y/n made a decisive choice—she wasn't going to confine herself to the building any longer. With a swift determination, the h/c girl dashed down the left, a path she knew like the back of her hand. It was the only part of this place she was truly acquainted with.
As she navigated the familiar corridors, a quiet resolve settled within her. Soon, she told herself, she would explore every nook and cranny of this place.
Reaching her intended destination, Y/n grasped the doorknob and turned it, relieved to find the door unlocked. Why would it be locked anyway? Who ventured all the way out here? With a gentle closure, she shut the door behind her, allowing her arms to slump in a release of tension. A sigh of relief escaped her lips—there was no chance of getting caught now. She might as well take her time until the elusive embrace of sleep decided to grace her with its presence.
The forest ahead presented an enigmatic facade, its depths shrouded in a tapestry of darkness. Above, the night sky unveiled a mesmerizing canvas of stars, casting a celestial glow that danced on the periphery of the woods. Y/n approached with an unspoken caution, her senses attuned to the quiet symphony of the nocturnal realm.
As she entered the forest, the air held a peculiar stillness, broken only by the occasional rustle of leaves overhead. The darkness within was not oppressive but rather hinted at hidden secrets waiting to be discovered. The moonlight filtered through the intricate canopy of branches and leaves, creating a mosaic of light and shadows on the forest floor.
Taking a deliberate breath, Y/n found herself enveloped by the towering trees, their branches reaching out like ancient guardians. The moonlight spilled through the foliage, painting the ground with a silvery luminescence. Soft, she mused, though a hint of annoyance surfaced when she realized she had ventured into the forest barefoot. A quiet huff of exasperation escaped her, and she considered the oversight with a snort of self-amusement. In the grand scheme of her nighttime escapade, the absence of footwear seemed trivial.
A sudden rustle, emanating from behind, brought Y/n to an abrupt halt. Her heart raced for a few suspended seconds as she stood perfectly still, senses heightened, and ears tuned to the forest's nocturnal whispers. A quick shake of her head snapped her out of the momentary panic. Rationality returned—this was a forest, after all, where the rustling of animals was an expected symphony. She snorted at her own jumpiness and resumed her journey through the trees.
As Y/n ventured deeper, shadows of leaves delicately painted her cheeks and arms in a moonlit dance. Her eyes glinted softly in the night as she swatted a branch out of her way, scanning the surroundings for any signs of interest. So far, all she encountered were trees, a seemingly endless expanse of them.
"Damn, so many trees... oh yeah, it's a forest. Silly me," she muttered with a self-deprecating snicker.
Occasionally, Y/n tilted her head back to gaze through the silhouette of branches, marveling at the sky adorned with a multitude of stars. The heavens seemed to peer back at her, a silent observer perhaps mocking her for her momentary lapse of reason. Redirecting her focus ahead, she continued to navigate through the darkness, finding an odd clarity in her vision despite the lack of ambient light.
BC Sol hadn't unfolded as Y/n anticipated; it fell short of her expectations, not even half as impressive as she had imagined. A sigh escaped her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the disappointment she felt. The people, in particular, didn't measure up to what she had hoped for. Nevertheless, Y/n resigned herself to the fact that finding genuinely good people was a rarity, and she would have to navigate through the challenges.
Stooping down as shadows played over her, Y/n discovered a massive clearing stretching out before her. The open space offered an unobstructed view of the night sky, and the grass beneath her fingers felt remarkably fluffy and soft. Spain, it seemed, knew how to cultivate lush greenery.
"Can't sleep, huh?"
The unexpected voice jolted Y/n, and she swiftly turned around, only to find herself locking eyes with the dark gaze of Free.