This has been ready and waiting for a while now, I just honestly forgot that I hadn't hit publish 😅

For reasons unknown to you, you were seemingly destined to never sleep in. You'd been up for most of the previous night worrying about your brother. He'd been over the moon when you gave him Kris's letter of invitation to join up with BC Sol, and he was meant to arrive yesterday afternoon.

You'd been so excited to finally have your little brother with you, and you were proud of him for achieving the dream he'd had since he was only five years old. Originally, you'd intended on being the one to pick him up from the airport, but Kris had insisted on seeing the doctor about your shoulder injury, and unfortunately the only time he was free to see you was the exact same time that Valt's plane was scheduled to land. As you had reluctantly agreed to put your wellbeing first, Kris had decided to send one of the junior members to meet Valt and make sure that he safely got to El Astro on time. The kid's name was Kit, and he was Honey's best friend. You knew him through your friendship with Honey's older sister Shasa, who you had naturally gravitated to, considering that she was one of the only decent female Bladers on the team. You weren't no where near as close to her as you were with Kristina, but she was a solid friend who you knew you could count on.

Kit had left around the same time as Doctor Ironwood had arrived. It was lucky for you that neither Free nor Kris were in the room with you, because one of them would have surely blow a fuse at the scolding you received from the doctor. The older man was nice enough, but he was stern, so you couldn't really blame him for be angry with you when he realised that you'd actually manage to re-tear something in your shoulder that you couldn't remember the name of.

Knowing that there was no use in denying the obvious, you admitted to each and every one of the Bey Battles you had participated in back home. Ironwood seemed confused. According to him, only your battle with Lui should have been enough to exacerbate the injury, but based on what you told him, the two of you hadn't fought for long enough to actually do the amount of damage that he could see present. He then proceeded to ask you if you had done anything remotely strenous over your holiday period that could have hurt you, even without your knowledge.

"Weeeeeell," you dragged out the word, wondering if he would actually believe your story, considering how unrealistic it sounded. To be fair, most people wouldn't think that an eleven year old would get an insane sugar high on soft drink and wreak havoc in the ball pit, but then again, you still didn't quite believe it either, even though you'd been there when it happened.

At Ironwood's arched brow, you caved, and reluctantly spilled to him the enitre story about that day in the FunLand Arcade, and how you'd been forced to dive into the ball pit and hunt down your brother. To his credit, the doctor didn't question you, though you swore you could see the briefest of smiles tug at his lips. He scribbled out a prescription for some high strength pain killers, and recommend a gel to rub on your shoulder every night before bed or whenever the injured limb was giving you hassle. You thanked him for his time and saw him out, but when you got to the doors, he dropped something on you.

"And no competitive Bey Battles young lady," he ordered, the sharp look he narrowed you with immediately wiping away any traces of a pout that might have been forming on your face. You wanted to argue, but you knew that it would be no use, and in all honesty, you were scared of permanently damaging yourself. "Light training is fine, but nothing too strenuous or competitive. If I so much as hear a whipser about you competing in the World Legues this year, I'll call your manager and make her drop you from the line up. Understood?"

"Yes sir," you mumbled, resisting the urge to salute him like he was some sort of army general, which technically he used to be before becoming a doctor some twelve years ago. Ironwood regarded you for a minute before deciding you were geniune. His face softened to some exent, and his bid you a quite farewell before taking his leave.

You stood at the door and watched him climb into his car, pulling out onto the driveway and exiting through the tall open gates. When he was gone, you closed the door behind you and leaned against the cool wood. Finally, you sighed, feeling absolutely crushed with his diagnosis. You understood why he had ordered the rest and totally respected his decision, it was for your own good after all, but you hated that for the very first time since joining with BC Sol, you wouldn't be participating in the World Legues.

You'd been told before when you'd first seen Ironwood after your injury, that you couldn't compete, but you hsd had your fingers crossed in the hopes that you'd progressed enough in the healing process to maybe be allowed onto the team. Unfortunately however, it seemed as though you'd actually taken a few steps back, and now there was no hope for you. Yes, you could still help out with training, and you'd cheer for your teammates all the way, but being in the bleachers would never be the same as stepping out into the arena and then up to the stadium, and experiencing first hand the addictive rush that went alongside with taking part in a Bey Battle. Even worse, you'd have to wait until next year's Legue to fight on the same team with your little brother.

'Brother... SHIT! VALT!' Your eyes widened in equal measures of glee and alarm. Kit should have been back with Valt ages ago by now. You were unable to resist the wide grin that stretched across your face, to the point where it began to hurt yout cheeks. You used the closed door as a launch pad and set off sprinting down the hall, barreling towards Kris's office on a one stop warparth.

Anyone and everyone was forced to dive out of your way, lest they get trampled. Sadly for Free, he didn't dodge in time, and the two of you went down in a heap together, sprawled out across the floor in a less than elegant two person pile. Thankfully, how you landed was on top of Free, and you were fortunate not to jar your shoulder. How ironic it would have been, considering you had just parted ways with Ironwood.

"Well fancy running into you," Free said in the bored voice of his, but you knew better by now. You could practically smell the mockery rolling from him in waves. You propped yourself up, taking care to 'accidentally' dig an elbow into your male best friend's stomach, so that you could glare down at him.

"Quiet you." Was all you said in response to his verbal quip, getting to your feet a moment later and pulling him up with you, just to emphasis how lovely you were. You quickly let your eyes flit up and down Free's form, giving him a quick once over and ensuring their was no physical damage done to him. You nodded, spun on your ankle and made to run off again, only for Free to casually reach out his arm and grab you by the back of your hoodie, effectively cutting your escapade short.

"Not like this!" You choked out, hands flying up to your neck where the hem of your favourite hoodie was constricting your airway. Free, upon realising that he was inadvertently strangling you, promptly released his grip and you fell against him, gasping for air.

"This is one of our more dramatic encounters, isn't it?" Free deadpanned, you barely had the energy to smack him up side the cranium. Barely. He still ducked though, much to your displeasure.

"Shut your face," you breathed once you had enough air in your lungs to safely do so. Your glare was half hearted at best, and you wondered if he'd step away and let you fall like he'd done in the past. Free seemed to find your struggles oddly amusing, and it never failed to irritate you to absolutely no end.

"Want to tell me what you're doing?" He probed, making you stand back on your own feet even though you were still recovering from your near death experience. You wanted to say something like 'my life just flashed before my eyes, I'm traumatized.' You always wanted to say that, and this was the perfect opportunity. Unfortunately, it was Free you were talking to, and knowing him he'd probably reply with 'seeing your life in reruns would traumatize anyone.'

"Valt's here," you replied with instead, deciding that you'd rather get straight to the point instead of getting into yet another verbal sparring match with Free Da La Hoya. For the second time that day, you were unable to resist your grin when you thought of seeing your little brother again so soon after parting with him back in Japan.

Free merely shook his head, a small smile on his own face. "He should be talking to Kris then."

"Exactly, let's go!" You fairly shrieked, grabbing him by the hand and running, this time dragging him along with you. You knew that Free was much faster than you, and that he probably always would be, not to mention that he could easily twist his way out of your hold despite the death grip he had. Free was only humouring you, and in spite all of your evident excitement to reunite with your sibling, you still remembered to feel grateful to have a friend like Free, who, normally so stoic, still let you pull him around in your enthusiasm and went along willingly with it. He was honestly a gem of a friend, and you fricking adored him like that.

The two of you skidded to a halt in front of Kris's office. You wasted valuable seconds in knocking and waiting for her to let you enter. You shuffled on the spot, shifting your weight between your feet and just struggling to stay still in general. Finally, after what felt like and eternity but was probably only a couple of seconds, you heard a faint 'come in,' from inside the office. Not hesitating any longer, you threw the doors open and burst into the room with all the force of a little tornado, Free trailing along calmly behind you.

"Valt–?" you cut off sharply when you realised that Kris was all alone in the small room. She sat behind her grandfather's old desk, papers spread out in front of her with a vaguely troubled expression on her delicate features. Upon seeing you, her eye brows creased. It was barely noticeable, aside from the miniscule line against a hot pink eye brow, and you knew that that expression meant trouble.

"Kris? Where's my brother?"

OoOoOoOoOoO

You'd been up for the better part of that evening worrying about Valt. You hadn't thought much of it at first, it was Valt after all, and he was late for everything. When it began to get dark, you began to properly freak out. You tried ringing him of course, no less than seventy two times, you seriously wondered if you'd broken his phone by spamming him.

You'd actually managed to get an answer on the twenty second attempt. The phone was about to ring out before it was picked up. Your heart leapt when you heard Valt's voice, but he hadn't even finished saying your name when the phone went dead. It did assuage your fears somewhat, he sounded fine and not at all worried or scared, though he did sound as though he had just woken up from a nap.

Both Honey and Ange made attempts to call Kit, and you felt bad when you remembered that the tanned kid had also failed to return from his outing. You hadn't given Kit a passing thought, too worried about your brother and you felt guilty for doing so until Ange assured you that it would be fine.

"He's probably visiting his father in town," she'd explained, smiling. While she and Kit's father were still quite happily married and in love, Ange spent most of her time and usually slept in her room beside the kitchen. It wasn't uncommon for Kit to go and visit with his dad during the day after training or stay with him on a week night, in addition to the weekends he spent there.

You could understand Ange's lack of fear in regards to her son's safety, though in your mind it didn't make too much sense. While it was a perfectly plausible theory when you thought about it, why would he have taken Valt with him, and not here to make his meeting with Kris? After hearing Valt, you felt a little less worried, though incredibly confused, but feeling more assured, you were able to drift off into a fitful sleep in the early hours of that morning. Somehow you'd manage to oversleep, and completely miss breakfast and your early morning training.

When you awoke to a combination of sunlight and a loud commotion from the courtyard below your window, your threw your arm over your eyes and groaned. Why in hell were you seemingly doomed to never get in just a few more precious hours of sleep? Sighing when you realised that sleep was futile, you rolled over in your bed and cracked upon an eye and struggled to make out the brightly coloured digits on your alarm clock.

10:28AM

You groaned, flopping around onto your back with a deep feeling of defeat, and began to wonder why Kris had not come after you when you hadn't shown up to eat breakfast with her, or why Trad hadn't sent someone after you when you were absent from training. It was then that your memories of the day prior came flooding back to you, and you sat bolt upright in bed, suddenly wide awake. With the mystery surrounding Valt, it was only natural that your best friend had let you sleep in, especially after you'd been up so late freaking out. Kris had stayed up with you of course, before you'd sent her to bed at some time around midnight. If she wasn't the team manager, you would have expected her to still be in bed, but if your ears were correct, the you could currently hear her talking heatedly with someone, right below your window.

Trad was there too you now realised, and by the sounds of things, he was pretty annoyed about something. Now, Trad wasn't too bad all things considered, despite being an absolute stickler for the rules and when it came to training. Very few people could get him really riled up, in fact, you seemed to have the innate ability to do so. It was something you prided yourself on. You didn't know anyone who could irritate Trad Vasquez quite like you did, but based on what you were hearing, someone was managing to give you a run for your money.

You fairly launched out of your bed and tore open your closet. You were willing to bet that annoying Trad was an Aoi thing, and that could only mean one possible thing. Valt had arrived.

Yanking a clean shirt off it's hanger, you pulled off the baggy top you had worn to bed and threw on the new one. You snatched a pair of jeans from the floor, their cleanliness status? Questionable. Barefoot and not giving a damn, you bolted from your bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you.

You made it down the dormitory steps and into the courtyard in a record time of 7.23 seconds. How you knew the decimal, you didn't stop to question. Annoyingly enough, Kris, Trad, and hopefully your brother weren't there. You heard a door shut, and you'd bet any money you knew where they'd gone. Taking off on a hunch, you sprinted over to the training hall and threw the doors open with a bang. Everyone ceased their chatter instantaneously, and multiple gazes turned to you.

Internally you swore. You'd forgotten that it was try out day, and there were more people aound than what you were used to at BC Sol, but let it be said that you Aoi's knew how to male an appearance. With everyone's eyes on you, your own fell onto a very familiar head of spikey blue hair, and your eyes narrowed as they met a rightfully scared looking pair of brown orbs.

"PORCUPINE!" You roared, voice bouncing off the walls and creating an echo thoughtout the room. The hall's occupants took a collective step back as one, each and everyone of them looking terrified, except that was, for Kristina, eho merely sweatdropped and sighed when she witnessed your rage.

"What did the new guy do to get on Y/n's bad side already?" Stan whispered, his eyes wide.

"VALT KENTO AOI!"

"Of course there are two of them," Django fairly whimpered to his friends. He had tried flirting with you once, it was in his nature after all. He'd strutted passed you and then pretended to do a double take. Kris rolled her eyes, having seen Django's 'A-game' on multiple occasions. Free merely smirked, already knowing you well enough to know that this would be more than amusing. Django had asked if you believed in love at first sight, and then proceeded to ask if he needed to walk by again. You then fixed him with a stony glare and told him to go right ahead because you wanted practice hitting a moving target.

Django had gone even paler than what was his natural complexion, and yet he still managed to bow out gracefully. Kris had laughed, and Free had quietly informed you that he'd never seen that type of reaction from his fellow teammate before. Despite your notable first interaction with Django, he still proceeded to be a ridiculously huge flirt, though he was pefectly aware that you'd shoot him down each time. It was something of a game, he'd use a pick up line or try and be 'hopelessly romantic,' and you would shut him down. Free always enjoyed those moments, and you swore that you'd seen him muching on popcorn on at least two separate occasions.

"What–" thwack across the arm "the–" another blow to the arm "actual–" a stomp to the foot "hell–" back to abusing his arm "Valt?" You finish off with your signature smack to the back of your brother's head. It was really quite surprising thay he didn't have a dent at this point.

"I was worried sick!" You exclaimed, wrapping him up in a huge bear hug that lifted him a few inches from his place on the ground. Abruptly, you let him go and stepped back with your arms folded across your chest. The poor boy shrunk back from the sheer weight of the death glare you fixed him with. It was quite possibly your best 'the pits of hell reflecting in your eyes' glare™ that you had given anyone to date. "You're bloody lucky I don't call mum on you."

"That's your brother?" Stan asked from across the room, a distinctly unimpressed tone lacing his voice.

Big mistake.

"Is that a problem with you?" You demanded, rounding on the taller boy, practically spitting nails. Only you got to be angry with Valt, he was your brother, it was your right. No one else was allowed to give him shit for anything. It was a lesson people learnt quickly.

There had been a time back in primary school when Valt first started. You had a few close friends, but you also had a bit of a reputation for being the kickass Blader that you were. Some guy in your class had made an offhanded comment about your 'goofy little brother,' and he hadn't meant it in a nice way, so you tore him to verbal shreds and left him feeling completely emasculated at being cut down by a girl. Then, he'd made the not so wise decision to take it out on Valt. As luck would have it, you'd rounded the corner just as he had pushed Valt to the ground, and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground beside Valt with blood pumping freely from his nose while you were making sure your brother was okay.

You got a three day suspension for fighting. Your mum had lightly scolded you, before leaving the room and also coincidentally leaving behind a loaf of freshly baked Bey Bread in the shape of Astra Vortex in the middle of the table. The next time your dad had seen you, he muttered a quiet 'that's my girl,' and patted you on the back.

People learnt not to talk shit about you or your family after that, because they knew that you'd reach back and knock the taste out of their mouths.

A lesson that Stan had clearly not learned.

"Easy there girly," a familiar voice spoke, a hand landing on your shoulder in a move that made several people gasp. It wasn't smart to touch you when you were angry, so many were surprised when you gasped and spun around.

"Honcho!"

You flew at the blond and gave him a tight hug. Out of all of Valt's new friends who you had met while over in Japan, it was Rantaro whom you liked the most. The fact that he had an exquisite taste in confectionary items only served to help his cause.

"What are you doing here?"

"I figured I might come and try out for the team," he informed you, bending down slightly to hug you back just as tightly. His lollipop stick dug into your shoulder, but you didn't mind that.

"Aw, Ranjiro couldn't have liked that." You laughed, thinking back to the little brother you had had the pleasure of meeting during your visit. You'd only seen him a few times, but the two brothers were as close as you were with your own siblings, and you could imagine how distraught the younger blond must have been to hear that his big brother was leaving for Spain.

"He made me promise to call him," Rantaro admitted.

"Sounds like Toko and Nika," you said, comparing the three and then realising that they would all be going to school together im a couple of years. You wondered, if they'd all be friends.

"Alright everyone, it's time for try-outs to begin!" Trad announced once it became apparent that you would no longer be shouting or trying to beat up Stan. All of the candidates lined up as directed, Rantaro among them, but you were confused to see Valt lining up with them.

Not wanting to interrupt Trad to ask your brother, knowing that you'd be on his bad side for a while and more than usual if you did, you hurried over to stand beside Kris. The pinkette shot you an amused look, shaking her head fondly at you, and together you both leaned against the wall and watched as the try-outs began.

"Why is Valt trying out?" You whispered once they had started and you were sure that Kris wouldn't be needed.

"He was late," Kris replied simply, sounding nervous as though she were worried you wouldn't agree with her decision.

"No, that's totally fair." You nodded, taking her slightly aback. You smiled and nudged her playfully with your shoulder. "You can't bend the rules for him, no matter what his reasons were. He gets the same treatment as everyone else."

"Exactly," Kris sighed in relief, returning your smile and nudging you back hard enough to make you stumble. Kris's sometimes childish behavior often surprised a lot of people. The pink haired manager usually gave off a strict vibe and maintained a very professional image in regards to her work.

Before you'd met her, she had only really had Free as a true friend, and while Free was great and all, she'd been starved for a female connection. Maybe, looking back on it, you both had been. Around you, Kris had learned to let her hair down, though not so much while working. It wasn't all that unusual for her to stoop to your level and shove you back, or sleep late on weekends and have sleepovers together at the most ridiculous and impromptu intervals. She was easily one of your closest friends, hell, you both even had draws in each others bedrooms as the result of said sleepovers.

There was one particularly memorable occasion, where you'd dragged him along on a whim to a sleepover. Sure, he'd join in sometimes, but it wasn't really his 'thing.' It wasn't like you and Kris laid about painting your nails and talking about boys and giggling like two pre-teen twelvies, shudder the thought, but Free's sleeoing schedule was weird, and he liked doing his own thing at night. Somehow, you'd convinced him to come along and join the two of you. You had followed him to his room and waited outside for him, and when he finally came out with his bag stuffed with a change of clothes and a couple of good movies, he'd been confused when you started leading him to Kris's room instead of your's.

'Don't you need to get clothes and stuff?' Free asked you, his head tilted. You looked at him sideways and shook your head.

'No, why?'

'Wait, what?'

'All my stuff's there,' you told him, wondering what he was so confused about. 'Hair brush, tooth brush, pyjamas, clothes, pillow, phone charger. I don't think I need anything else.'

'Ohhh, so you brought everything over earlier.'

'No.'

'What?'

You stopped and stared at him, the both of you in differing stages of extreme confusion. You didn't understand what he was missing, until you remembered that he hadn't slept over with the two of you in a couple of months.

'I have one of Kris's drawers with all my stuff in it,' you explained, facepalming at yourself for not figuring out the source of your friend's confusion sooner. 'We did that ages ago.'

Free just silently shook his head and kept on walking.

You're attention was brought back to the present by the very person whom you'd just been thinking about. Free arrived wordlessly and sat down on the floor beside you, his back against the wall, so that you were in between him and Kris. You glanced down at him, and like lightning, your hand flashed out and you messed up his hair even more than it already was.

"Hello to you too Y/n," Free said, sounding disinterested as always. You snickered, feeling prideful, and slid down the wall to sit beside him and lean against his shoulder, using it as a pillow. Immediately, Free leant his head on top of yours, making it his own respective cushion.

Kris just looked down and shook her head at you two, smiling. You raised a brow and patted the ground next to you in invitation. She looked tempted for a moment but then shook her head in a declination. You pouted up at her and then patted the ground again, more insistently this time, then gestured to your lap. It was your, her and Free's prime relaxing pose. Your head on Free's shoulder, his head on your head, and Kris lying down with her head pillowed in your lap. Again, Kris looked tempted, but again, she said no. You knew that it was because she was working, so you didn't push the matter and you simply let it go.

"So what of you think of him?" Kris asked, talking to Free, motioning her head to the stadium where Valt was in the middle of owning some genetic anime background character. "That's the Blader I scouted personally."

"He's okay, I guess." Free decided noncomittedly. You looked up at him sharply and elbowed him. Hard.

"Oi, that's my brother you're talking about."

"I know." Free smirked, and you gasped. You knew he was only joking with you, but like the charming little shit you were, you moved your head up sharply, displacing him and making him slip. Free grumbled, and then decided to take Kris's usual position and put his head in your lap instead.

"Ass," you accused, no real heat behind your words as you began to toy with his hair.

You watched Rantaro and your brother battle, cheering for each of them and shouting them words of encouragment from the sidelines. As expected, they each one all of their battles with ease, although Valt seemed to be struggling with his Valtreyk for some reason. Rantaro's last opponent was another generic kid with anotuer generic Bey and a foul attitude in general. He gave Rantaro a mouthful when he lost and started to storm out, leaving the blond at a loss behind him. You made to get up, because that attitude was nowhere near okay nor was it healthy, but Free's arm came up and clamped across your knees at ths same time Kris's hand came down on your shoulder.

"Just leave it." They said as one, and after a moment, you did as they said and relaxed, opting to let it go. You took in a deep breath to calm yourself down, and when you let it go you released with it all the pent up anger, worry and frustration that you were still harbouring from the previous day. Finally feeling somewhat relaxed, you sighed and looked back to where Trad was directing the last two Blader's remaining to step up to an arena and battle each other. Kris went over to referee the last battle, and you did a spittake when you saw who was battling.

"Yeah Valt!" You shouted, launching to your feet and unsettling Free in the process who gave a singlular sob of defeat. You stood beside Trad, whom you glared at when he not so subtly tried to shuffle away from you.

This was it. Your little brother so close to being on your team, the team you were so damn proud of and loved with every piece pf your soul.

You could stand to miss out on a little bit of sleep for this.