The bell rang just as I stepped inside.
The teacher looked up from her desk. "You must be the new student."
I nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Ryo."
She turned to the class. "Everyone, please welcome him. You can take a seat near the back."
Most heads turned for half a second, then went back to whatever they were doing.
I didn't mind. That was easier.
I moved down the row and found an empty seat behind a few desks already crowded with books and half-open lunch boxes.
The kid next to me was balancing a pencil on his finger, clearly not listening to anything the teacher said.
He noticed me as I sat down.
"Hey! You're new, right?"
Before I could answer, he grinned. "Name's Valt! You like Beyblade?"
"Yeah," I said.
"Awesome! You'll fit right in."
The teacher cleared her throat. "Valt, maybe focus for one full minute before lunch this time?"
"Right, sorry!" He straightened up, but the pencil was already spinning again in his hand.
The lesson started. Equations, examples, the same material as anywhere else.
Still, the classroom didn't feel boring.
Every few minutes, someone whispered about a battle or a new combo, and when the teacher turned, they all pretended to be taking notes.
I kept quiet, following the board but half-listening to Valt muttering next to me about how his launch angle needed fixing.
Two rows ahead, Shu sat straight, writing neatly, never missing a line.
He didn't look around, but he seemed to notice everything anyway.
When the bell for break rang, the room burst into noise.
Chairs scraped, people laughed, and Valt was already on his feet.
"Shu! Let's go practice outside!" he called, waving his launcher like it was part of his uniform.
Shu didn't even look up from his notes. "After lunch, Valt. You promised."
Valt groaned dramatically. "Fine! But we're testing my new combo later!"
He finally looked back at me. "You should come watch. It'll be fun."
"Maybe," I said.
He nodded, satisfied enough with that, then dashed out of the room, nearly tripping over a chair.
The teacher sighed from her desk. "He's like that every day," she said quietly.
I didn't answer, just smiled a little and went back to packing my notebook.
It was loud, messy, and completely unlike the quiet schools I remembered.
But for the first time in a while, I didn't mind it.
The bell rang, and half the class rushed out before the sound had even faded.
Valt was the first at the door. "Come on, Ryo! The practice courts are open!"
I looked at my lunch bag. "You're not eating?"
"I can eat later!" He grinned. "Beyblade first."
The teacher gave him a tired look as he ran out. "Every day," she muttered.
I followed more slowly, stepping into the sunlight outside the main building. The school yard was divided into sections: benches, a garden path, and several metal stadiums built into the ground.
It was loud already. Students everywhere, battling, watching, shouting advice.
Valt had joined a small group near the third stadium. Shu stood nearby, calm as always, explaining something about launcher angles to a few younger students.
"See? If you pull straight, you lose momentum. Tilt a little, and the Bey moves faster toward the center."
Valt nodded along, then launched anyway without fixing his form. The Bey hit the slope, jumped, and crashed into the wall.
"Still too high," Shu said.
Valt laughed. "Almost had it though!"
The others laughed with him, and the match reset.
I sat down on a nearby bench, unwrapped my lunch, and watched. The energy of the group pulled at me. They didn't care who was stronger, only that they could spin longer, hit harder, or learn something new.
Every few minutes, a new pair would step up to battle. Sometimes the hits were clean, other times wild and uneven. Each burst brought a mix of cheers and groans.
Shu kept watching, correcting, patient as always.
Valt just kept trying, losing as often as he won, but never slowing down.
"Hey, Ryo!" Valt waved between rounds. "You're really not joining?"
"Not today."
He shrugged. "Your loss!" Then he turned back to launch again.
I stayed there, half-listening to the hum of the Beys hitting metal. The rhythm had a pulse to it, fast, almost alive.
It wasn't about power yet. It was about control, rhythm, and the way each spin changed when two collided.
I finished my lunch and kept watching until the bell rang again.
When everyone started heading back inside, Valt jogged over.
"You were watching the whole time, right?"
"Yeah."
"Then tell me what did I do wrong?"
"You're asking me?"
"Yeah. You look like you notice stuff."
I thought for a second. "You're forcing the launch. It's wasting spin. Let the motion pull itself."
Valt blinked, then grinned wide. "That's… actually good advice. Thanks!"
He ran ahead toward the door before I could say anything else.
I followed slowly.
For a first day, it hadn't been bad.
No battles for me yet, but enough to see what kind of world this was.
The school grounds were quiet by the time I stepped outside again.
Most students had gone home.
Only the faint hum of the ventilation system filled the empty courtyard.
I walked back toward the practice area where we'd spent lunch.
The stadiums were empty now, metal rims catching the last light of the day.
For a moment I just stood there, listening to the silence.
I set my bag down and pulled out Drago's case.
The smooth surface felt warm, even though it hadn't been touched all day.
I opened it slowly.
"First time here," I said quietly. "Let's see how you move."
The stadium reflected the sound of the launcher's lock clicking into place.
My stance came naturally low, centered, steady.
I took a slow breath, let it out, and pulled.
The cord snapped clean.
Drago hit the slope, curved once around the rim, then dove toward the center.
The motion was smooth, almost soundless.
Every strike against the wall echoed sharp and quick, no wasted spin.
I watched it glide along the ridge, tracing the pattern like it had been there a hundred times before.
Unseen from the edge of the courtyard, someone stopped walking.
Shu stood near the fence, one hand on his shoulder strap.
He hadn't meant to stay long, but the way Ryo had launched made him pause.
There was no strain, no hesitation.
The form looked practiced, precise, too clean for a newcomer.
He watched a few seconds longer, eyes narrowing slightly as Drago changed rhythm in the bowl, sliding in a spiral pattern before slowing down.
Shu didn't recognize the Bey's design from that distance.
And he hadn't yet noticed the direction of its spin.
When Ryo picked up Drago and began packing it away, Shu stepped back quietly and turned toward the main path.
There was no need to interrupt.
Ryo fastened the case shut, slung his bag over his shoulder, and glanced once more at the stadium before leaving.
The metal bowl was still humming faintly.
It was a good start.