Tony froze, staring at the doctor's waist.
The faint red glow wasn't normal. It pulsed softly, like a heartbeat, shining from the face bolt of the Beyblade tucked into the doctor's belt.
Why would a doctor carry a Beyblade… and one like that?
He quickly looked away before the doctor could notice, but the image stayed in his mind—the red glow, almost alive.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" the doctor asked casually, holding a file in his hands.
Tony slipped his grey face bolt into his pocket and forced a shaky smile. "Y-Yeah. I've got it."
The doctor's calm eyes stayed on him for a moment too long. Then, with a nod, he sat at the desk and started writing something.
For a moment, Tony's imagination ran wild.
In his head, the doctor smirked, like a villain from a comic.
"I know who you are, Tony… and I know what you hold. That grey face bolt—do you wonder why yours is dull, while mine burns red? Are you ready to learn the truth it hides?"
The imagined words echoed in Tony's mind, sending a shiver down his spine. He even pictured the doctor's eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.
Tony blinked—
and the thought shattered
Tony swallowed and finally asked, "Doctor… what kind of Beyblade is that ? And why is my face bolt grey?"
The doctor froze for a moment. His calm face changed slightly, as if Tony had asked something he shouldn't have. Slowly, he opened the file in his hand.
"Name: Tony Durante," he read.
"Age: 18. Height: 5'10."
He closed the file and looked straight at Tony.
"My Bey is Ray Gasher 125RF" he said quietly. Then his eyes flicked down to the faint red glow on his belt.
"As for your face bolt…" The doctor's voice dropped lower, almost like a whisper.
"It's grey because you're not worthy yet."
…..
Tony couldn't shake the doctor's words. "It's grey because you're not worthy yet."
The sentence echoed in his mind like a bell. His chest felt heavy, almost sinking, and without another word he turned and walked out.
The hallway stretched in front of him, long and silent. Every step felt louder than it should, as if the hospital itself was listening. He kept seeing that faint red glow in his head—the Beyblade hidden under the doctor's coat.
When he pushed open the doors, the morning air hit him. His mom was waiting just outside, waving with a bright smile.
"Mom… where's the car you booked?" Tony asked, trying to sound normal.
"Not yet," she replied, her finger pointing across the street. "First, let's eat. That restaurant looks good."
Tony followed her.
The smell of butter and bread drifted through the air as they stepped inside. The restaurant was cozy but busy—people talking, chairs moving, plates clinking. He sat across from his mom by the window, his mind far away even as they ordered.
Finally, when the waiter left, Tony leaned forward. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"Mom…" His eyes flicked toward the hospital they had just left.
"Why would a doctor… carry a Beyblade?"
His mother paused, her smile soft but her eyes distant, as if she was choosing her words carefully. A part of her wondered if asking meant he really had forgotten everything—his past, his connection. Maybe this was a chance for the memories to return on their own.
"Son," she finally said, her voice calm and steady, "Beyblades are a symbol of hope. People believe they're sacred pieces, blessings from the gods. Carrying one is a way to keep faith close… even in dark times."
She placed a hand over his, steadying him.
"Maybe one day, you'll understand what that really means".
Tony didn't reply. He just nodded, letting her words sink in. Soon their food arrived, filling the table with warmth and smell.
As he ate quietly, his eyes drifted toward the window. In the glass, his reflection stared back.
An oval-shaped face, light brown skin, a faint scar cutting through his left eyebrow. Small pimples marked his cheeks—normal, ordinary.
But the longer he looked, the stranger it felt.
This face… it's mine, but somehow it doesn't feel like me, he thought.
Almost as if he were wearing someone else's skin, living a life that wasn't fully his.
After a while, they finished their meal and stepped out of the restaurant. Tony's mom booked a car, and as they waited, she turned to him with a soft smile.
"Son… your dad is waiting at home. He even took the day off just to see you," she said warmly.
Tony felt a quiet comfort in her words, and for the first time that morning, his chest loosened a little.
"And soon," she added, her voice gentle, "we'll go buy you a new Beyblade before your college starts."
Tony smiled faintly and nodded. The thought of a new Beyblade should have filled him with excitement, yet his hand drifted into his pocket. His fingers brushed against the cold, dull face bolt hidden there.
And in that moment, the doctor's words slipped back into his mind, echoing like a whisper only he could hear.
"It's grey because you're not worthy yet."