darkangel-hikari

The familiar strain in his muscles as he yanked the winder back while also pushing the launcher forward, sending the battle-use top flying into the stadium. The low hum of the Beyblades as they circled the dish, and the clash as both collided. Closing his eyes, the preteen felt as if he were back in the park he frequented, in the middle of a training match, or simply training by himself against an imaginary opponent. But every time he opened his eyes, the reality hit him anew. He saw not the well-kept greenery, open play space, and the comfortingly familiar skyline of that part of his hometown; instead, he was faced with cold gray stone walls