Beyblade Burst Adventures

Sort Of An Admirer

In which all the Masked Bladers have pretty much adjusted to having Red Eye around and accepted him into the group. He's even become acquaintances with the majority of them, but one Masked Blader in particular has noticed the conversations he'll have with them are... Kind of stiff. Maybe he's just shy? (Witchcraft AU.)

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"Red Eye!" I call, watching the Blader in slow to a stop before turning to face me. I walk down the hall to meet him, nodding my head in greeting. "Sorry to stop you, but I was actually looking for you."

"What's up?" He questions politely, his voice a little more quiet than normal. Or, rather, than normal for how he speaks to the others. This is his normal for how he speaks to me.

"Ashtem said he would like to see you when you have a chance. Something about your improved launcher, I believe."

"Oh, I see." He lifts his head a little, nodding once. "Thank you for letting me know. I'll speak to him right away."

Red Eye starts to head that way, but I hold up a hand to stop him. "Actually, I had a little bit of a question for you, myself."

"Oh?"

"Forgive me if I offend you, but I've noticed you have a certain demeanor for when you address me, and it's very different from the demeanor you present when addressing the other Masked Bladers." I frown a bit more as he sucks in a breath, clasping my hands together. "May I ask why you do?"

"I- I don't," He murmurs, crossing his arms in attempt at seeming stoic. "I treat you the same as I do the others, Black Eye."

I furrow my brows under my mask and let out a sigh, "Ah I think I've figured it out. I may be a witch, but you don't have to be frightened by me, pequeñin. I don't abuse my magical power or use it to harm others."

"Oh no, t-that's not it at all!" He says a little too quickly, raising his hands to try and be reassuring before ducking his head, seeming embarrassed.

"Mm-hmm," I hum in an unimpressed tone, unable to help the pang of offense I feel. But then, I should probably not be surprised. After all, media and several other platforms frequently depict witches as nasty, terrible old hags. There's even a children's show meant to drill into childrens' heads that slaughtering them is okay, especially if you're a racist unicorn.

"I'm just not used to it, is all. But I'm not afraid of you, honest," He murmurs, looking back to me with an apologetic frown. This time it seems more sincere, and since Ashtem's waiting on him I accept it.

"Alright. But really, you don't have to be nervous around me."

"Okay..." He nods, then he murmurs a farewell under his breath and brushes past me.

Once he's out of earshot I heave a sigh, heading back to the Masked Blader's private training room. Every other one is present when I arrive in the room, all pausing in what they're doing to greet me. I wave at them in return, offering a small smile before making my way over to Gold Eye. He's chugging down water, his mask and coat discarded on the bench nearby to reduce the heat.

"Gold Eye, can I ask you something?" I murmur, causing him to lower the water bottle and wipe his mouth.

"Yeah, sure. What's up?"

"It's about Red Eye," I tell him, and he immediately frowns like he does when Yellow Eye tells his horrid jokes. But it's still an improvement on the scowl he used to give, I suppose. "You've noticed how strangely he behaves around me, right?"