A/N: I wanted to sneak in one more update before the official MayBlade after party is done on tumblr, so here we are! I've actually had this finished for a few days, but I've been struggling to find the time to edit it. Finally got the chance today!

This chapter was actually started over a year ago as part of MayBlade 2022 for the "Chains" prompt. I ended up writing about Ozuma that time instead, but liked the beginnings of this too much to scrap it. And when I was brainstorming for prompts this year, realizing it would be a good fit for "Scars" helped me figure out the direction I wanted to take it in.

Day 20 | Salima, Goki | Rated: K+

Scars

Sometimes Salima spent her nights awake.

It was easier explaining it to Goki when they were somewhere new and exciting. Those times, he'd buy that she was thrown off by the timezone or the different constellations swimming in the sky above their heads. He'd lay awake with her on occasion, sketching the scenery and planning their travels, always tactful enough not to mention her clipped, one-word responses.

When she was home, it was different. There was no hiding when she had to throw open every window to feel like she wasn't suffocating, choking on guilt and long-gone power and desperation. Goki was unerringly kind about it and so gifted with reading her that he knew when to step in and when to pretend like he didn't notice a thing.

And those were just the nights Salima didn't sleep at all. Others she started out asleep, only to be woken up by dreams of mechanical roars and sharp, gnashing teeth. Her heart would beat like she'd just run a marathon. When her eyes snapped open, her face would be wet from tears she remembered crying that day in the battle tower.

The taste of her tears would bring back memory after memory. To cope, she would call Kane and listen to his steady voice, unmarred by a crazed bitbeast. Or she would call Jim and get him to tell her all about his latest project until her heart rate returned to normal. Most often, she would sit outside and breathe in the clean air, trying to convince herself that she was whole without whatever pieces of her Cyber Driger kept.

Wielding a cyber bitbeast was like being shackled to a wild animal: scary, unpredictable, thrilling.

Life after one was the same, except Cyber Driger was heavier as a corpse than he'd ever been living. Back then he steered her from just behind her eyes, a driving force that quickly took her over. Now she had to find her own way and carry the weight of her actions on her own shoulders.

It was exhausting. And more than enough to keep her up at night.

"You need to let it go," Goki advised one night while keeping her company on a hostel roof. He had his sketchpad out and was doodling the view across the street. "You can't let it eat you up inside forever."

"I can't just forget what happened," Salima snapped. She knew she should feel bad about it, but her head ached from lack of sleep and throbbed in time with her racing heart.

"I didn't say to forget." He looked just as concerned for her as she'd felt for him when they were locked up together in the battle tower. "It's not normal to launch a beyblade and have the bitbeast inside hijack your brain. You didn't know what would happen – you need to forgive yourself for it and let it go."

Salima felt the overwhelming urge to cry, so she buried her face in her knees.

She'd had a pretty good idea what could happen by the time she'd picked up Cyber Driger. It was stupid to think that she would be any less susceptible to the power of the cyber bitbeasts than Jim and Goki. She wasn't better than they were and the proof was in how the rest of her friends were already over the ordeal.

Goki didn't wake up at night, fighting off invisible forces; sleep was the solace it should be, for him. As for Kane and Jim, when she'd spoken to them last, they'd asked if she and Goki were planning on returning for the World Championships because the two of them were competing together. Goki had given a firm no on Salima's behalf, because she couldn't get words past the sudden panic squeezing her throat shut.

She didn't know how to forget and she didn't know how to let it go or move on. All she knew was that returning to Japan to face the Bladebreakers and masquerade as an upstanding member of the beyblading community filled her with too much shame to bear.

"Salima?" She felt Goki's hand on her back, gentle and reassuring. Patient, even. Like he wouldn't press, but thought she needed to talk.

"How are you so okay?" she asked, voice wavering with bottled up emotion. "You, Kane, and Jim – how did you put it behind you so easily?"

She hadn't planned on opening her mouth, but there was something about the anonymity she felt with her eyes screwed shut and a city where nobody knew her all around and Goki's strong presence by her side, that forced her thoughts past the knot in her throat.

Goki let out a long sigh. "I wouldn't call it easy. Some days I can't even look at myself in the mirror," he admitted, running his hand over her back in firm, slow strokes. "And I can't speak for Kane and Jim. I couldn't compete in a Championship right now, but maybe that's what it takes for them to feel better – proving that they can compete honestly on the biggest platform there is."

Put like that, Salima could kind of understand, even if the thought of standing in the spotlight right now made her feel sick.

"For me, it gets a little easier with every kid we teach," Goki continued. "It feels like I'm helping them discover the true spirit of beyblading, maybe keeping them from making similar mistakes to the ones I made. You know what I mean?"

Salima turned her head toward Goki, resting her cheek on her knees.

"I do." There was a reason she and Goki were the ones who'd headed straight for the open road. Teaching kids and seeing that spark of joy on their faces when they launched their beyblades – the same spark that the cyber bitbeasts did their best to replace with the hunger for domination – those were the moments that she felt closest to her old self. "But I still have nightmares. Sometimes I can even feel Cyber Driger's claws, like it never left."

She was almost whispering by the end of her admission.

Goki's brow furrowed thoughtfully.

"Cyber Driger was holding on tight when it was ripped away." She could feel him shiver as he thought back to that day. "Those power injections made it too strong to resist and you shouldn't have been able to, but you did anyway."

He was looking at her with something akin to admiration and she didn't want it.

"Goki—"

"I heard the scientists talking – saw their readings," he said, cutting her off. "Cyber Driger pushed you past your limits, Salima – it makes sense that your scars are deep. You should be proud of yourself for fighting." He looked off into the middle distance, no longer willing to meet her eyes. "I wish I'd been able to."

Salima's chest ached at the shame in his voice. She sat up and said, "They weren't designed to fight against."

If she wasn't allowed to beat herself up over it, then he wasn't either. She remembered Dr. B and his scientists being so sure that she'd be hooked as soon as she got a taste of the power they had to offer. For all their talk of mental strength being necessary to wield the cyber bitbeasts, they were still counting on the fact that their reckless creations would be strong enough to bend her team's will to their own. She and her friends were never meant to be in control.

"I'll work on accepting that if you will." Goki offered her a small smile and she realized, belatedly, that she'd played right into his hands. "Then maybe we can both move on."

"I'll try," Salima sighed. "I think I feel a little better just talking about it." Even as the words left her lips, she was surprised to find that they were true. Maybe healing had to come in baby steps.

"You'd feel even better with a good night's sleep," Goki pointed out.

She should've known he wouldn't let her get away with the sleepless nights without commentary forever. Unfortunately, her nightmares came and went as they pleased, no matter how exhausted she was. Something about Kane and Jim competing had brought them back full force. If the nightmares didn't disturb her, her brain buzzing, trying to figure out what it all meant, would.

When she told Goki as much, he simply shrugged out of his jacket and balled it up. "Here," he said. "I'll talk so you aren't alone with your thoughts. You, try to get some sleep." He set the makeshift pillow on his lap and motioned for her to lay down.

"What, right here?" Salima asked in disbelief.

Goki chuckled. "Does it make a difference if you can't sleep anyway?"

"I guess not," she admitted. If she hadn't found solace back home, in her own bed, familiar and comfortable, maybe it wasn't where that mattered. Without another word, she laid down on the rooftop, tucked her knees up under her sweater and pillowed her head on Goki's jacket.

He went back to drawing, but this time he kept up a constant stream of one-way conversation. He told her what he was drawing, explained what he knew about the architecture, told her how frustrating it was when the light changed as the sun sunk lower.

Between the scratching of pencil on paper and the steady rhythm of his voice, Salima's eyelids, finally, began to droop.

A/N: I always say this, but I have so many feelings about Salima. And now I want to write fifty more fics about her and Goki's friendship and their team dynamics and all the shit the cyber bitbeasts put them through.

Thanks for reading! :)