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Anya is LIVE right now
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wwwwwwwww got bored at work today and wrote a GinMado oneshot, platonic or shipping idrc how you interpret it i just wanted to write something nice for these two :V takes place VERY early fusion (the day after gingka and ryuga’s first fight), little bit of canon divergence but not too noticeable
The only thing that occupied the space between them was the sound of the clock on the wall and the gentle clicks and shuffles of her handiwork.
His eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling, one arm draped across his forehead and the other dangling off the side of the couch. Mindless fingers rubbed against one another, fidgeting impatiently. Everything in him told him he needed to get up already – there are so many more important things to be done and you’re just laying here, dammit – but his brain remained stubborn. He hadn’t even touched his food since last night.
He had just enough energy to turn his head towards the girl on the other side of the room. So focused...she probably hadn’t even noticed he had woken up already. Absent eyes laid to rest on the bey she was currently working on; every measurement, every adjustment perfectly exact.
How does she do it? He found himself wondering that from time to time, but even more so now than ever before. Ever the voice of reason, that Madoka. Her intricate understanding of Beyblade surpassed just about anyone he had ever known, and her ability to keep a level head in even the most stressful of situations was nothing short of admirable.
“What’s wrong?”
Madoka didn’t even look up from her work, but her words cut right through the silence and snapped him out of his daze. He blinked, stopping himself from flinching at her sudden words.
“...Nothing” was all he could manage. He turned back to face the ceiling. “I just woke up, that’s all.”
“You were looking at me funny.” Was he? Shit.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Madoka’s shoulders relaxed from their hunched-over position. Looking up almost annoyedly, she set the bey parts down and turned to her friend on the couch. Even through the lenses of her goggles, he could feel her staring him down.
“Look,” she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees, “I’m not gonna force you to talk if you don’t want to. But I am worried about you – all of us are.”
“Don’t worry about it, Madoka,” he said, mustering whatever confidence his energy would allow, “I’m okay now. We all got out of there just fine, right? There’s nothing to be concerned about, promise.”
“I disagree.”
His eyes darted back to meet hers in time to watch her remove her goggles. There was...something in those eyes. Worry? Pain?
“Gingka, you could’ve gotten seriously hurt back there,” her tone was much more stern now. “I don’t– I don’t know what came over you the other day, but seeing you like that, it…” – she paused, bit her lip, letting her eyes waver for just a moment – “...I’ve never felt so worried for someone before. And never in my life did I think I’d have to feel that way about you.”
...God. God, he really fucked up, didn’t he?
If he had just stayed calm; if he had just ignored his aggravating taunts; if he had just...stopped and thought about the situation before diving headfirst into things like he always fucking did – maybe he wouldn’t be laying on this couch right now. Maybe they wouldn’t be having this conversation at all. Maybe…
A chill ran up his spine. That was the angriest he had ever felt in his life. It...honestly kind of scared him, too.
But he remained silent. He didn’t know what to say, and even if he did, he had no energy left to say it. His non-dangling arm returned to his forehead, sliding down to shield his eyes from the ceiling lights. A deep breath filled his lungs and escaped through his nose.
The sound of a rolling chair sliding across the floor and footsteps caught his attention, and he felt Madoka’s presence draw closer to him. She sat herself down to meet his eye level.
Only the sensation of her head leaning on his shoulder brought him back to the present. His shielding arm flinched, moving aside to glance at his friend.
“You’re a great friend of mine, Gingka,” she muttered, not bothering to maintain eye contact. “I want you to know that it’s okay to ask for help sometimes. Your burdens are ours, too; there’s no need for you to go through all of this alone.”
A lump began to form in his throat. He chewed on the inside of his cheek in a feeble attempt to hold it back. Madoka was right about a lot of things: this, he supposed, was one of them.
His head tilted slightly to meet hers, and he let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you, Madoka,” he whispered.
The two sat there in silence for a long while; there was nothing left to say. He knew he had to speak to the others about this soon, but for now, he needed to recover. Having Madoka here with him – even if it was in total silence – was enough to make him feel safe.
