So... This is what happens from 12:30 AM to 4:00 when I'm free... I get these nutty ideas and just write and write and write over a spand of two days, being dead tired from lack of sleep. XD Gee, I'm really sorry, guys... This isn't my best writing... but I suppose it's better than nothing... Now, a couple of my friends read it and got a little confused at first, but it's kind of meant to be that way. ;) Don't worry, you'll be fine. I warn you, there are some suggestions to GinMado/GalaxyShipping/GingkaXMadoka, but I'm not sure what I write at such a late/early time. XD

Excuse any errors, I read through it and I don't think there are any, but you never know. ;)

I don't own Beyblade!

See You Soon

Madoka Amano was pushed back by two policemen, not permitting anything but shock to be shown. Her stomach churned and her heart raced as she continued to push against the officers. Finally, she was lifted from the ground and brought to a distraught Ryo Hagane, who had his shaggy bangs and fingers enlaced over his face as he cried.

Madoka had already seen it. She felt like someone poisoned her; she was weak, dizzy confused… no strength to stand, her legs caved and she greeted the ground with an unintentional kiss. Pulling herself from the mud-slicked street, she ran a trembling hand against the dirt and grime now in place of the surprised expression she had been wearing since an urgent 9-1-1 call had pulled her from the Bey Shop; she hadn't even locked the door.

She had warned him, right? She couldn't remember. Did she, or had it been a horrified thought she'd been to terrified to speak aloud and never released it from her mind?

"It's dangerous to walk this late,"

Yes, she had. Someone, strong, picked her up, placing her carefully on the back of the Ambulance and offering her a blanket. She glanced up painfully at the man's red-rimmed, golden brown eyes, accepting the white sheet of fabric and drawing it over herself.

Silence, aside from the police chatter, detectives musing and the medical professionals analyzing, would have ensued, but a sudden burst of friction between persons sung out as a teenager broke through the police line, shouting and reaching for his Bey as the men forced him back. They immediately stripped him of his launcher, but the Bey remained trapped in his hand. A woman, around the age of twenty-five, lead him to the two forms, Madoka still unable to find any words to say, and handcuffed him to the pole of the vehicle.

"Nice try, Kyoya." Ryo managed, almost sounding sarcastic. It wasn't meant in that way, it was clear, so Kyoya didn't smart off like he normally would. Given the situation, it was probably best, and he knew that.

This time, the hushed rush of background voices and quietness was finalized. Kyoya stood with his arms crossed, apparently overseeing what was happening, Ryo simply sniffed in a way that expressed more hurt than what he would allow at this point, and Madoka burst into soundless sobs.

After what seemed like hours, the same woman that handcuffed Kyoya returned. "I'm officer Miura," She introduced herself kindly, her dark brown eyes somewhat soothing. "I'm sorry I have to do this, but I'm going to need to ask you if you know the victim. Just to make sure we contacted the right people."

Madoka swallowed hard. She hated that term… Especially now. Nodding, she let the woman take her and Gingka's father toward the site, hope and fear both attacking her.

What would happen to the Beyblading world if it was him? He was practically the face of the hobby. She knew this would affect everyone. Either way, the press would have a heyday. What would she do…? If it was him, what would she do? It seemed impossible to think up a time where they weren't involved in each other's lives… what would she do?

The first thing Madoka saw was blood. Blood everywhere. Blood, and a clear tarp that was so many times overlapped, it seemed white. She felt her internal organs twist at this and snatched Ryo's hand away from his mouth, squeezing it tightly.

Cautiously, Officer Miura moved it so they could view his face. Madoka merely took a glance and shut her eyes in defiance, the image permanently etched into her brain and heart. It isn't him, it isn't him, it isn't him, she repeated to herself. However, her mouth said otherwise, "It's him, it's him, oh, Pegasus, it's him!" She wept. It burned. Everything felt like flame. Her tears, the picture imbedded in her vision, her heart, the shirt pressing against her face as she howled into Ryo's abdomen, the only she could reach at her height.

Miura looked to him for confirmation and he moved his head up and down, this signaled her to cover the boy and his fiery hair again. "I'm sorry," She whispered, slowly returning them to the ambulance and leaving the crime scene behind.

"Was it him?" Kyoya demanded, almost franticly when they were sitting down.

"Yes." Ryo said, covering his eyes from view with his empty hand. "Yes, it was." Madoka was still tightly clinging to both him and his palm. Her cries had become deep, long gasps for air and then trembling exhales, sounding more like hyperventilation.

"Gingka, why didn't you listen to me?!" She screamed, muffled by only the clothing placed against her lips.

"Can I get you some water…?" Miura asked kindly, earning a tired, verbally mauled chorus of 'yes's from the tiny group. She disappeared into a black and white car with flashing red and blue lights, and returned with three bottles of water. Each took one.

"Madoka, is your father home?" Ryo questioned as she took a drink from the bottle and Kyoya begged for release from his make-shift prison. She shifted her gaze to a silent figure, the one who had reported the murder of her friend.

With a steady, calm voice, she answered, "No…" Normally when things like this happened, Gingka would comfort her and they'd talk until morning and pass out on the couch in weird positions; like when she woke up one morning sleeping stretched out across his back, while he was folded over frontwards. She still wasn't sure how that happened. But it wouldn't be happening anymore. "He's away on business…. As usual."

"I'll take you back to lock up and you…" He froze, almost unable to continue. "You can sleep in Gingka's room tonight. Believe me, the first night after you lose someone is the worst." She looked at him for a second. "S-sure…" She was a bit hesitant. Gingka's room; he just died, why would he want her there? Maybe to feel as though someone were actually with him… like Gingka was still there. She looked at Kyoya as he stepped in front of her.

"I know we were never on the best of terms and I may have seemed more of an enemy then a friend to Gingka; but know I really did count him as a friend and a great rival." He smiled slightly. "Just let me know if you need anything."

His sudden maturity startled her. "T-thank you, Kyoya."

After they were all excused, numbers for contact given, and had said their goodbyes, Ryo took Madoka to lock the Bey Shop, which had thankfully been undisturbed, and returned her to him and Gin—…His home.

It was a small place, with a living room, a bathroom a very small kitchen and two roomy bedrooms. "Thank you for letting me stay, Mr. Hagane." She thanked him as he took her to a door with the words "Do not enter when practicing" painted on the door. They both felt tugs on their hearts.

"I've experienced this before… I know how it feels. You shouldn't be entirely alone tonight." She entered the room, gazing around. It was painted a deep blue with constellations drawn delicately on the ceiling, had simple white sheets and bedding. Other than that, there really wasn't much out of the ordinary of a normal bedroom.

"Sleep well, let me know if you need anything," Ryo shut the door and went to bed. Madoka stared; feeling empty and alone. She really had nothing to change into, she really hadn't thought of that. She noticed something; a lump of clothing on the floor. She reached down to pick it up and found that it was a white shirt, the one he always wore to bed.

She crawled into the bed and brought the shirt to her chest, curling around it and woefully burying her face in the article of clothing. She inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of sweat and metal and… she giggled, some type of shampoo or cologne. She sighed, kicking off her shoes, it smelled just like him.

Madoka stared out the single window, looking at the stars. Pegasus was not in view, and she couldn't remember if it was even in season. She wasn't sure what time it was, but it was definitely late and her body was begging her to sleep, making it the most probable cause for her terrible memory.

The deep blanket of sleep drifted over her and she lost consciousness to the world.

The nightmares, however, persuaded her dreams to leave her.

She saw it again; Gingka's bloodied face and blank, glossed over eyes. The tear in his cheek stretching from just abroad his eye to his jaw, the look of shock still implanted in his expression. He must have fought for his life, for his face should not be so scarred otherwise…

The many ways he could have died replayed in her head unending, eventually waking her in a start to her own scream. In only a few minutes, Gingka's father burst through the door, half-dressed, a kitchen knife in his hand, and his hair a mess. But didn't both he and his son's hair always look like that? The knife, however, was quite a questionable object; it seemed odd for a grown man to sleep with one.

They exchanged a long, awkward look, eventually ending with Madoka explaining, "Nightmare." Ryo simply nodded warily and left. She turned to the window again, as earlier. It was light out now. Well, it was becoming light.

After another hour of refused sleep, Madoka stood up; dropping the shirt she had held tight to the previous night. A sudden void took her heart and she blinked back the tears in her eyes as she reached for it, knocking a picture frame from the bedside table. She only stared at the picture.

Gingka, who seemed to be around two to three years old, was on his dad's shoulders with a great smile spread across his cheeks. A woman was standing next to them, just as big a grin as Gingka. Madoka had never seen her. She was quite pretty. Her hands secured the image safely, as not to drop it again.

"That was Gingka's mother." A deep voice said from behind her. Ryo, looking much more presentable then before, walked up and pointed to the brunette in the frame. "She died when he was little… he doesn't—" He sighed. "…Didn't really remember her."

"Oh," Madoka placed it back carefully.

"They want me to pick up Gingka's stuff…" He continued, deep hurt in his voice. "They can't release the body yet…" He quickly switched subjects at the unease in both of them. "I called your father. He asked me to keep you hear again tonight, he's returning tomorrow."

"Thank you." She was short on words.

"I'll be back later, help yourself to anything in the house, turn on the Television, too, if you'd like." He offered a forced smile, but it quickly faded and neither attempted to draw it back. He left.

Madoka threw herself onto the mattress. Gingka was gone, life snatched away like a breath in the wind. She wished for one moment with him, just one last second, to tell him goodbye. But, again, that was pointless. He could not return to her, not like before.

Another notion in her brain caught her attention. Kenta and Benkei; they didn't know. Neither did the Bladers across the world that they had met, unless the press had already screamed it across the countries of the world.

Suddenly, her laptop, which she had apparently slept with, began to indicate incoming calls and messages. She opened it, now taken from her mind, to Masamune Kadoya, Dashan Wang and Julian Konzern's urgent messages, ignoring the calls. Nothing had been mentioned in the media, but there were lots of rumors swarming in the WBBA and they were panicking a bit over them.

She closed the lid, biting her lip. She had no idea what to do. The only person she really felt like talking to was Gingka…. Perhaps she could speak to Kenta, Benkei, or maybe Kyoya. She shook her head. It just wouldn't be the same.

Sprawling out, she shut her turquoise eyes.

Madoka felt her chest tighten at Ryo's return. He was carrying a box with everything that had been on Gingka's person at the time of his death. The first thing she saw in that box was his scarf, poking out over the edge of all the content.

He dropped it on the small kitchen table, letting out a depressed breath and shoving his head into his hands. "He looked… so..." A sob escaped him. "…So cold."

He was only fifteen. He had barely started his life. He hadn't changed much since they met; he and Madoka. He had still flashed that signature smile along with his goodbye that last night. He had still made an effort to battle Kenta that last night. He had still been that same mysterious twelve-year-old Blader that walked into her father's shop, sporting what seemed to be an unbeatable Bey. He was still him.

Madoka brought over the two hamburgers she had been cooking and sat down, pushing one to the man on the other side of the table compassionately. But when she turned to her food, she lost her appetite. Maybe this wasn't the best food to cook. "I'm not hungry anymore." She stated, tears running down her lowered face. Don't blame him; he didn't cook the stupid food! Madoka mentally bashed herself.

"Your father's coming to pick you up at noon tomorrow," Ryo reminded her. "You'd better get some rest anyway." He motioned to the clock, which indicated it was around midnight.

Madoka nodded; her day had been extremely long. She ended up having to contact Tsubasa, Yu, Yuki and Kenta and Benkei, telling them of Gingka's death. Kenta didn't take it well, neither did Yu. Tsubasa seemed pretty shocked, along with Benkei and Yuki.

Kenta and Yu had begun crying… Okay, everyone, except for Tsubasa, started crying. Once Kenta broke into tears, Yu soon followed, Madoka and Benkei in tow. Yuki was the last to show his pain after looking at Tsubasa's hair. Tsubasa then made it known that he was now going to get a haircut as everyone seemed to associate hair to Gingka and he didn't want to make any of them sadder than they already were. Although this made little sense to them, no one argued; they'd secretly always wanted Tsubasa to chop off his long hair.

Everyone had gone their separate ways shortly after.

Madoka snuggled under her covers, trying to sleep. Instead, she cried. "Gingka, I miss you." She whispered, shedding tears until she fell asleep. It didn't last long; she was awoken by a presence in her room, someone shuffling through the closet.

She froze as the figure tied something around his neck. Something almost as tall as he was. Something white. Something...—a scarf. A long, white scarf. The moonlight from the window lit up his whole body in a phantom blue. Everything except for his fiery red hair. "…Gingka…?"

He turned to her, a huge, blue smile widening on his lips. He put a finger to them, as if it was a secret that he was there, which it probably was. He moved toward her, leaning down and leaving a kiss on her forehead. "I'll always be here," He promised. "I just can't be here. I can't have Kyoya or Benkei or dad or… you chasing me down, do you understand?" A simple nod in reply. "I'm going to miss you, Madoka." He smiled again and vanished out the open window, a gentle breeze blowing in.

She hated him. She hated and loved him. She closed her eyes and returned to sleep, conflict and relief infiltrating her dreams.

Gingka hopped from roof to roof, keeping to shadows. He didn't want to do this, but no one would let him leave otherwise. He trusted Madoka to keep this their little secret. He'd gone through great lengths to fake his death that well, and he couldn't risk it being exposed.

He was still Gingka Hagane; he wouldn't try to hide his identity. But things would be different. He paused in the moon's glow and looked at his Bey, Pegasus. He wished he could stay; battle Kenta and Kyoya one more time. But nothing was really keeping him here anymore. Ryuga was supposedly dead now, making it funny that he's also now considered so, and he needed more of a challenge than just his two friends could provide.

Kyoya and Kenta and his father would take care of Madoka for him, in place of him. Maybe someday he would return, just for her. Just to say "hi". And maybe they would spend the night fixing Beys, and talking and pass out on the couch again, like they did before.

Goodbye, Metal Bey City. He thought as he reached its edge. Goodbye, Kenta, Kyoya, Benkei, Tsubasa and Yu. He froze, breathing in one last breath from his home. Goodbye, father, take good care of her. So long, Madoka. See you all soon.

The End

*Sobs into hands* I'm so sorry, guys! I'm a terrible person... Now, I understand you're probably thinking Gingka didn't have to go through those lengths... I think secretly there were more reasons behind it... I just couldn't come up with any. :P And originally there was a scene... with something Gingka's father found, but I don't think I'll be writing it right now... Maybe I'll post it as a bonus in a second chapter later... Thoughts?

Well, I appreciate reviews, so why not send me one while you're here? Open to any helpful suggestions!

~Jedi-Gingka~