Chapter 8 — The Name the Wind Carries
Valt Aoi didn't notice legends at first.
He noticed people.
The Beyblade Club grew the only way it could—loudly.
Rantaro dragged in anyone who would listen. Some came for curiosity, some for competition, some just because Straw Street was starting to feel alive. Battles filled the afternoons. Laughter echoed between buildings. Losses piled up just as fast as wins.
Valt met everyone the same way.
With a grin.With a challenge.With absolute trust in Valtryek.
It wasn't technique that pulled people in.
It was momentum.
Shu watched it happen from the edges.
The club reminded him of something he'd lost—not Ryuuga himself, but the simplicity of those early days. Before fear. Before guilt. Before restraint became a necessity instead of a choice.
Valt didn't know any of that.
He didn't know about the Supreme Four.He didn't know about Europe.He didn't know what kind of storms were already moving.
But he was about to.
The first time Valt heard the name Ryuga, it wasn't from Shu.
It was from the internet.
"Hey, check this out!" Rantaro said, shoving his phone toward him. "Some guy in Europe—people are going crazy over him."
The video was grainy. Old stadium. Open sky. A Bey spinning with impossible steadiness as the wind whipped around it unnaturally.
The comments scrolled endlessly.
Balanced monster.Storm incarnate.One of Europe's strongest.
Name: Ryuga.
Valt tilted his head. "He looks… cool."
Shu stiffened.
Just barely.
Ryuga had returned to Japan quietly.
No announcements.No interviews.No challengers crushed for spectacle.
He walked familiar streets like a stranger, Storm Dragoon resting calmly at his side. Japan felt smaller than he remembered—but sharper, like a blade honed while he was away.
People recognized him anyway.
Whispers followed.
"He's back.""The one who fought Lui.""The storm guy from Europe."
Ryuga didn't correct them.
He wasn't here to compete.
Not yet.
At the regional tournament registration hall, Ryuga stood near the entrance, unseen by most—but not unfelt.
Shu sensed him immediately.
A pressure in the air.A rhythm out of sync with the room.
He turned—
And their eyes met.
No anger.No accusation.No reunion.
Just understanding.
Shu exhaled slowly.
So you found your path.
Ryuga inclined his head slightly.
So did you.
Lui was not there.
But his presence was.
Valt never noticed the exchange.
He was too busy meeting people.
Strong bladers. Loud bladers. Quiet ones. Ones who lost and laughed. Ones who won and shook hands anyway. The world of Beyblade was growing bigger by the hour, and he loved every second of it.
Somewhere between matches, someone mentioned Europe.
"Did you know there's a club called BC Soul in Spain?" one blader said."Seriously strong team. Their manager's famous—Kristina Kuroda."
That caught Shu's attention.
Ryuga remembered her clearly.
Kristina had watched him with sharp eyes, arms crossed, as Storm Dragoon tore through BC Soul's strongest. She hadn't looked angry when her blader lost.
Only thoughtful.
"And Free De La Hoya?" another added. "That guy's a monster."
Ryuga's hand tightened slightly.
Free.
The strongest of BC Soul.
The only one who'd forced Storm Dragoon to its limits without hatred or hunger—just emptiness. A blader who fought not to win, but because spinning was all he had left.
Ryuga remembered the aftermath more than the battle.
The silence.
The look in Free's eyes after defeat.
Something had broken that day.
Not a Bey.
Something worse.
The regional tournament began.
Valt stepped forward, heart pounding, ready to challenge everything in front of him.
Shu watched, composed—but the cracks were spreading.
Ryuga turned away from the stadium, the wind tugging at his coat.
This wasn't his battlefield.
Not yet.
But soon.
Very soon.
The paths were converging.
Valt climbing upward, unaware of the weight he carried.Shu holding himself together by discipline alone.Lui reigning supreme, waiting for something worthy to tear down.And Ryuga—balanced, awakened, returned.
The storm had come home.
And the Burst era was only just beginning.