The YuBo Story

''--1999 (Winter)

Along side with the fierce sound of impact, the beyblade that shot up into the air started to crumble into pieces. The beybattle field became quiet, as if all, not less than a hundred, boys who were training, held their breath in unison. What broke the silence was the scream of a boy who had lost his battle and had his beyblade completely destroyed. That scream was soon drown out by the voices of the other boys.

When I tried to walk past the boy who had fallen onto his knees to pick up the pieces of his beyblade, the boy who was hunched over looked up at me with only his eyes. What was inside his eyes weren't just the look of defeat. There was already a strong will to fight. He stood up once more. After standing he returns to training, to become stronger. There was no other choice but to continue on fighting and win. That didn't apply to just him. It also applied to all the other boys, including myself.

"What are you looking at, Yuriy?" Boris had spoken with diffidence. I knew he was behind me. I even sensed that he was hesitant to talk to me.

"The snow," I only informed as to what reflected within my eyes.

"I see," Boris again, replied plainly before falling silent. The roaring sound of the spinning beyblade, and the panting from rigorously training on the training machine.
Ever since I had accepted Volkov's invitation there wasn't a day where this ceased.

From under my eyes spread the harbor of Severodvinsk, and ahead of the white sea's road was completely covered in snow. As if that wasn't enough the snow kept falling unforgivingly. To be able to see the earth buried beneath the snow would possibly be in the distant future. No, it would be better if the earth had never shown. I was entranced by the white snow. I liked this scenery.

"Snow is nice," From the words that naturally dropped from my mouth, Boris walked up from behind, and from beside me he nodded slightly. It wasn't only Boris and I, but most of the boys from the center probably liked the world that was taken over by the snow.

The snow buried everything. The dirty earth from below was hidden and buried. The snow was cold and chilled the whole body. But it was impartial. Without differentiating between the rich and the poor, to the happy and unhappy, it continued to fall. The boys who knew of poverty and unhappiness, who came to here to escape from a horrible living, couldn't have disliked this snow. They knew more than anybody that the snow could bury away the unpleasant memories.

Happy memories weren't something that I didn't know. A father who was a proud soldier, and a mother who was kind, cheerful and a great cook. Deep within my memories were of a warm household and inside there, was me who was laughing. But that was a faint memory.

The country's system changed and my father had lost the occupation as a soldier. What he lost wasn't just that. Both his pride and ambition were gone. What remained for father were the glory from the past, and reminiscence of the better days. The man who used to be a proud soldier, a wonderful husband and father immediately drowned himself in alcohol. He would raise his hand against his wife and son without a reason, and became a man who laid around in self pity.

This also changed my mother who would always be smiling. She would look extremely saddened and held a shadow of fear inside her eyes. Half a year later she even resigned being a mother. She left by herself abandoning both me and father.

After mother's disappearance my father's violence became worse. Even so, I stayed by my father's side. Mother would someday return. Father would eventually become the proud and kind man he used to be. I held those hopes within my heart.

That's why I stayed by father's side who would abuse me while demanding me to bring food and alcohol. To live I had to steal. During those time Boris and I had met.

Boris had came from a similar environment. That's why we met on the streets, and from one look we had a mutual understanding.

The both of us tricked and stole from people. We were saved from one another's company even if there were no signs of improvement during those harsh days. It was a short time, but my smile had returned, but that smile was nothing more than an illusion brought about by the false living.

From continuously stealing, people had their eyes kept out for Boris and I, and we were caught in a trap set up by the owner of the butcher shop. We could not escape. Of course in a poor town there was no function of law.
When caught you did not get handed over to the police, but only ended up in a terrible situation.

--this was the end.

When I was giving up, the man who held out a helping hand to us was Volkov.

Volkov was looking around Russia's land for children who had great athletic abilities, to achieve some guy's ambition. I was indecisive with Volkov's invitation, whose purpose were a mystery to me. It was because my head was full of the faces of the man who was both depraved and abusive, but was still my father, and of my mother who might return home.

I held onto the faint yet happy memories. Yet what appeared when I opened my eyes was the dingy stone paving, shoes that had holes and from inside were toe nails that had grew long and became filthy--
it was reality.

Now, both Boris and I are here. To become stronger. To acquire the world through beyblading, we're here in the center Volkov have founded.

"What are you looking at, Yuriy?" Boris asks the same question once again. With a glance I examine his face. It was faint but there was a look of worry on Boris' face. That question of what I was looking at, wasn't a literal question, I knew.

From here on out what was going to happen to us? That was what he wanted to ask, most likely. If we remain in the center we wouldn't starve or shiver from the cold. We could sleep peacefully. Compared to all that had happened this was heaven. But that was if we could remain strong. The number of children who were training to become the strongest 'blader was less than a thousand. Once they lost, it was over. Ever day, we saw numbers of children that had lost being chased away from the center.

Boris was worried. Not knowing when the days of fighting and training would end. The days where we have to train and continue to win.

Yet, I did not have these uncertainty. It was because I knew losing was impossible, because I was stronger than anyone.

I smiled at Boris and replied, "The future,"

To control the world through beyblading. That bright future, was the future that stood ahead of me.

"--isn't that right?"

Boris nodded. On his face, he didn't hold a look of uncertainty no longer.''