This was actually one of the very first one shots I wrote for this story, so I literally am publishing this before school.

Key:

Y/N= Your Name
L/N= Last Name
F/C= Favourite Colour
2ndF/C= Second Favorite Colour

(L/N).

A name so famous almost everyone in Japan had heard of it.

But you weren't the one who was famous, the famous ones were your parents.

An only child of only children.

It was up to you to meet your parent's high expectations and bring pride to the family name.

So far, you were epically failing.

You weren't exactly that well behaved or obedient child. You were the type of rich kid that smiled before flipping off the press.

Almost every week you got a different lecture.

You had to focus more on your studies, because eighty percent on a test just wasn't acceptable.

You had to dress appropriately at all times, apparently jeans and hoodies were inappropriate to wear in public.

A young lady should be seen and not heard, was a common place saying. When you were older and able to afford your own house could you form your own opinion.

But something they refused to simply let go, was your love for sports.

"Croquet is acceptable, tennis if you must, but a young lady who plays Beyblade will not be tolerated."

But when did you ever listen to your parent's expectations? What could they even do? Disown you? They wouldn't dare, who would continue the (L/N) family line?

It was a harsh day in Summer, and you were trekking about in the forest surrounding your family manor.

Surely your mother would have a fit if she saw you. Muddy joggers, old jeans, and hoodie.

But at that moment you couldn't bring yourself to give a damn.

You had worked so hard this past month to live up to your parent's expectations, daring to hope that if you did so then just maybe they would allow you a small liberty.

Perfect scores across all exams, neatly pressed skirts no more than four fingers above the knee, being spoken only when spoken to, smiling and looking pretty.

It was hard, but you had successed. For an entire month you had behaved like the perfect little lady you had been raised by your nannies to be.

It was with great trepidation you approached your parents earlier that morning.

Flashback

"Father, may I have a moment?"

He nodded, much more agreeable  since your display of perfect etiquette.

"I have been wondering, if it is not too much trouble, if I may perhapes join a club at school?

He arched an eyebrow. "What club are you looking at joining (Y/N)?"

"The Beyclub," you admitted sheepishly.

Your father's face flushed an unflattering shade of puce, and a nerve twitched in his eyebrow.

"(Y/N), we have been over this-"

"Father, please-"

"Do not speak when I am speaking!" He roared. "It is not your place to speak over me!"

You fell silent.

"You are a young lady, it is not proper for you to run around dressed like someone off the streets playing a boy's sport."

You couldn't help but speak up. "Girls play-"

"What did I say? You are not an ordinary child, you are a (L/N), you are better than they are! You will not play such an archaic sport!"

You spun on your heel and stormed to your room, slamming your door as loudly as you possibly could.

End of flash back

"Hey, what are you doing?" A refined voice loudly demanded.

You snapped out of your reverie to see a posh looking boy with spikey blond hair tied in a ponytail.

Looking around, you realised you were no longer standing on (L/N) property.

"I'm sorry," you apologized. "I didn't realise."

"How did you not realise?" He questioned. "Surely someone like you would have noticed that you were wandering around on the grounds of the Murasaki family mansion."

You had to repress a growl. You now recognized the boy, you had seen him around school before. He was Wakiya Murasaki, and part of the club you so desperately longed to be a part of. He was also a snob, and you only picked up on one part of what he said.

"What's that meant to mean, 'someone like me?'"

Wakiya sneered at you. "Just look at yourself, clearly your not from around here."

You glared at him.

"Are you really saying that to the (L/N) family heir?"

Very rarely did you use your family name to threaten someone, but you were already annoyed and this boy wasn't helping matters.

"There's no way that you are related to the (L/N)s,"  Wakiya scoffed.

You raised a condescending eyebrow and raised your right hand to show off the platnium family signet ring that shone proudly on your finger. While you didn't get along with your parents, you definitely admired the craftsmanship that had gone into making the old ring.

It was a simple band with your family crest and motto painstakingly carved into it, three small sapphires glinted brightly.

You took a petty delight in how Wakyia paled upon realising who he had been speaking so harshly to.

"Ah, forgive me Miss (L/N)," he rapidly apologized. "I didn't realize who you were."

You folded your arms. "You still shouldn't speak to people like that."

Wakiya rolled his eyes at you, but said nothing.

"Either way, you are trespassing."

It was your turn to roll your eyes. "I didn't mean to, besides, didn't I already apologize?"

Wakiya shrugged. "What are you doing out here anyway, shouldn't a pretty little princess like you be safely inside you mansion?"

"It's a manor," you corrected. "And I could say the same for you."

"Manor or mansion, who cares. I asked you first."

"Ladies first, I insist." You smiled.

"Then by all means, go ahead."

You snickered at him. "I was raised with manners, please, tell me my lady, why you are out in this big and dangerous forest all on your own?"

Wakiya sneered. "If you must know I had a minor disagreement with my parents."

Immediately, your expression softened.

"Don't say-"

"That I'm sorry?" You finished for him and shook your head. "Don't worry, I won't. I know how fake it feels."

"You do?"

You nodded. "Why do you think I'm out here too?"

"Let me guess, you don't meet their expectations?"

"Ding, ding, ding, we have a winner." You said dryly. "All month I've been a perfect little lady, hoping daddy dearest would let me join the Beyclub."

"You want to join the Beyclub?"

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't Beyblade," you snapped defensively.  "I'll have you know I can Blade with the best of them."

Wakiya held up his hands placatingly. "I wasn't going to say that."

You narrowed your eyes.

"I swear," he promised. "Why do you need your dad's permission anyway? It's easier to ask for forgiveness than for permission."

You shrugged.

"You don't have to tell me," Wakiya offered, sensing your change in mood.

"It's fine," you assured him. "I guess you'd understand better than anyone."

Sighing, you began to walk, giving Wakiya no choice but to follow you.

"Growing up, kids either didn't like me, or only hung around because of my name and money." You explained. "And when they realised I didn't exactly care about being the perfect little daughter my parents want me to be, they dropped me."

"I don't understand," Wakiya said confused. "What does this have to do with Beyblade?"

"I'm getting there," you chided him. "I never had any real friends growing up, then one day my nanny took me into the city and let me get a Beyblade. We never told my dad, hell, my nanny was more of a mother than my actual mother. She's retired now, but I still visit with her from time to time. Shadow Karasu was a gift, it was also the only companion I had growing up. If my dad finds out..." you trailed off and took a shuddering breath.

"You're scared he'll take your Bey away?" Wakiya finished for you.

You nodded, waiting for him to scoff or laugh at your fears. You weren't entirely sure why you had told him that.

Wakiya Murasaki had always seemed like a stuffy snob. The version of a rich kid your parents wanted you to be that you swore not to.

But something told you to trust him. Maybe it was earlier admission about his argument with his own parents. Maybe he wasn't such a snob, maybe that was just how he was taught to act.

For whatever reason, you felt like you could trust him.

_______________________________________

It was a week later, and you had a free period before lunch.

You were walking down the hallway, and the next thing you knew, you were getting pulled into a janitor's supply cupboard.

Whirling around to face whoever had taken you, you let out a sigh of relief when you saw who it was.

"What the hell Wakiya?" You glared at him. "You don't just do that to a person."

Wakiya rolled his eyes at you. "Yeah, yeah, cut the dramatics and listen."

You pouted slightly at his tone, but let it slide.

Over the past week the two of you had continued to meet up in the shared forests surrounding your houses and you and he had become fast friends.

During that time, you had realised he was slightly insensitive but he didn't mean to be malicious. Very few people had accepted him and treated him like an equal, and in that way, he was just like you.

He was your only friend aside from Shadow Karasu, and you wouldn't change him for the world.

Wakyia dug around in his school bag and pulled out a (F/C) wig.

You looked at him skeptically. "Wakiya sweetie I will always accept you, but is pulling me into a closet really the best way to tell me you're a cross dresser?"

"W- what? No, shut up!" He stammered, flushing a bright shade of crimson.

You grinned and gave him a cheeky wink, he scowled at you when he realised you were only teasing him.

"Look," he rolled his eyes, still red. "Do you want my help or not?"

"What are you even helping me with?"

"I think I've found out a way you can join the Beyclub."

Your eyes widened at his admission. Could Wakyia really have managed to think of a solution in a single week that you yourself had been trying to think of for years now?

"Here," he said, handing you the wig. "Put this on."

Unsure of where he was going with this, you did as Wakyia asked and slipped it over your (H/C) locks.

Wakyia nodded approvingly. "Now try these on."

You took a small case from him, beyond bemused at this point. You flicked the case open and saw a pair of (2ndF/C) contact lenses floating in little pools of saline water.

"Your not allergic to contacts are you?" He asked nervously.

Shaking your head, you popped them in. Blinking at the unusual sensation, you looked at Wakiya for approval.

"They don't hurt or itch?"

"It feels like I have sand in my eyes, but no, they don't." You replied.

Wakiya looked excited. "This is perfect, you look like a completely different person."

You narrowed your now (2ndF/C) eye's at him. "And why is that a good thing blondie?"

"Because," Wakiya smirked. "Now you can Beyblade and your parents won't even realise it."

"That is brilliant," you admitted. "But they'll notice my absences, and if I lie on the admission forms and get caught, I don’t want there to be an inquiry."

Wakiya gave you one of those rare, genuine smiles of his, and you were taken away at how lovely he looked. "Already thought of that. Your parents want you to socialize with high class people, so all you have to say is that you're hanging out with me, which isn't exactly a lie."

"And the forms?"

"Got that covered too," Wakiya said. "I looked into it, it turns out that tons of famous people are able to use a different name during tornaments so they don't get bothered in their nomal life."

"Oh my God," you breathed excitedly. "We're actually doing this. But what if the Beyclub finds out?"

"You can trust them," Wakiya assured. "They might not act like it, but I'm sure they can keep a secret."

"This is so dangerous," you told him, unable to disguise your anticipation. "What if we get caught?"

Wakiya grinned at you. "Isn't that what makes this fun?"

You nodded and hugged him tightly. "Thank you so much!"

He hugged you back. "Your one of my best friends (Y/N), it's my pleasure."