#I just want the Psykicks to have bitbeasts that aren't total leeches on their psyche

[azikarue]

MayBlade 2023 : Day 15 : Battle

TyHil, (RaySal & MaxMar implied) | FFN Rating: K+ | FFN Link ❖ “Draciel!”

At Max’s shout, Draciel rose from his beyblade to block the oncoming attack from Ray and Salima’s blades. It was a magnificent sight, swimming in the hazy summer air, but standing firm against the tandem attack. When its opponents ricocheted back, Sharkrash came out from behind Draciel, moving so fast that it was skimming along the top of the sand, to deliver another blow while they were vulnerable.

“Driger!”

Ray’s bitbeast appeared with a mighty roar as he and Salima regrouped. Sharkrash retreated back to Draciel’s side. Both couples made eye contact, temporarily ignoring their opponents to wordlessly decide on their next moves.

Beside Hilary, Tyson was practically vibrating with pent-up excitement.

“C’mon guys!” he shouted, making Hilary jump and all four bladers’ heads turn his way. “I’m playing winner, so hurry up and finish it already!”

“Tyson,” Hilary scolded, tugging on the fist he was pumping above his head until he obliged and dropped it, “let them concentrate!”

Max, Ray, and Salima laughed, but Mariam had other ideas. Taking advantage of the momentary distraction, she called upon Sharkrash. It appeared in a burst of light, heading straight for Driger.

“Noctalon!”

Salima’s beyblade collided with Mariam’s just in time to protect Driger. Sharkrash skidded off course, sending up a spray of sand and Mariam cursed. With a flick of her wrist, a bitbeast strongly resembling a great horned owl soared out of Salima’s beyblade and into the sky. It was midday, but the golden light shining off its feathers made everything in the vicinity glow like the sun was setting.

Hilary must have been the only one entranced by its beauty, because the battle kicked up a notch with its appearance.

All four bladers coordinated attacks and defenses, unwilling to give each other an inch. Hilary found herself squinting to keep the sand from flying into her eyes as every impact sent bursts of energy reverberating outwards. She was going to have to rinse off in the ocean after and she’d still probably find sand in her swimsuit when she got back.

It was worth it to watch her friends battle so fiercely.

“Who do you think will win?” she asked Tyson, almost shouting to be heard over the sounds of the battle.

Ray and Salima were both balanced beybladers on their own. Between the two of them, they had a wide range of experience, allowing them to bounce between a variety of strategies. But Max and Mariam, having a strong defense and attack respectively, were naturally balanced and their style of battle reflected that. As far as Hilary could tell, it was anyone’s game.

For a second, she thought Tyson hadn’t heard her. His brown eyes, tinged honey in the sunlight, were locked on the fight. Hilary followed his gaze.

They watched together as another one of Ray and Salima’s attacks fell on Draciel’s defenses, like water on stone. Sharkrash followed with an attack from the direction of the ocean, sideswiping Driger and Noctalon, throwing them off-kilter for a few seconds. Those few seconds were all Max needed to launch a rare attack from Draciel, covering the battlefield in a rush of water.

The water surged up the beach, seizing Hilary’s ankles, making her momentarily loose focus on the beybattle. Tyson’s grip on her arm kept her from stumbling. When she looked again, all four beyblades were still spinning in the damp sand.

“If Ray and Salima are smart, they’ll use that to their advantage,” Tyson said, his full focus on her for the first time since the battle had started.

Hilary knew, in the back of her mind, that he meant the freshly packed-down sand. In the forefront of her mind, she was still getting used to the fact that dating Tyson meant she was one of the few people he would take his eyes off of a battle for. She flushed and he smiled at her.

“Does that mean you think they’ll win?” Hilary asked as another gust of wind from the battle blew sand and mist their way.

Tyson combed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear once the wind subsided. Both of them glanced quickly at the battle; once again, all four beyblades were still kicking.

“I think, whoever wins, I’ll have one hell of a fight on my hands,” Tyson answered. He grinned, a familiar fire lighting in his eyes and making Hilary feel warm inside.

“Well, yeah, if you plan on taking two of them on at once,” she teased. “It’s not exactly a fair fight.”

Tyson shrugged. There was a familiar bravado in the set of his shoulders when he said, “They deserve a handicap against the World Champion.”

Hilary scoffed.

He winked at her.

“You need taken down a peg or two,” she said, rolling her eyes.

An obliging wind kicked up, blowing Tyson’s hat off of his head. He scrambled down the beach after it as Hilary laughed and the battle continued. Luckily, he caught it quickly. When he returned to her side, he’d laced his hat into the tie of his swim trunks to keep it secure.

“Gee, thanks for your help, Hilary.”

“That’s what you get,” she said smugly, a stubborn smile still on her face. “Instant karma.”

She tried to go back to watching the battle. It looked like it was winding down; none of her friends’ beyblades were spinning as strongly as they had been a few attacks ago. But she could feel Tyson’s eyes on her, sending a prickle of awareness up her spine. She turned toward him curiously.

“What?”

“If I taught you to beyblade, would you battle with me?”

That question caught Hilary off guard. For a second, all she registered was the distant sound of metal-on-metal and Tyson’s earnest eyes, studying her.

“I… I don’t know, Tyson.”

She’d thought about it several times over the years.

When they’d first met and Tyson was insufferable, she’d thought about taking up beyblading just to see the look on his face when Hilary, the “Wicked Witch of the Eighth Grade”, beat him in a match. That was a short-lived fantasy. Back then, she thought beyblading was a little dumb. By the time she felt otherwise, she was friendlier with Tyson and his group and no longer had the need for that pipe dream.

It had become a niggling thought again during the next World Championships and all the drama that followed. She halfway wondered what would have happened if she’d taken it up when she originally though about it – would Tyson have accepted her as a partner in Kai’s stead? Or could she have filled the extra position on the team in the fight against BEGA?

“It didn’t exactly go too well that one time,” she said with a blush.

“Duh,” Tyson teased. There wasn’t any judgment in his expression, but there was a little bit of amusement as the same memory came to both of their minds. “Rule number one: don’t launch in a moving vehicle.”

Hilary’s blush deepened. She hid her face in her hands. “Let’s not talk about that.” It came out muffled, but she knew he heard her, even as the battle intensified again.

Tyson chuckled and pried her hands away. Just when Hilary thought he might say something nice, he responded with, “Max’s dad almost drove us off the road.”

“Shut up, Tyson!” She shoved him back and crossed her arms, determinedly facing the battle instead of him. “You know, this isn’t the way to talk me into being your tag team partner.” That day had been humiliating enough living through it the first time.

Clearly, Tyson had some semblance of self-preservation instincts, because he came closer and nudged his shoulder against hers.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it, Hil,” he said gently. She could feel him seeking her eyes and stared stubbornly straight ahead. “You made our training regimen. I think you’d probably blade better than all of them combined if you took the time to learn.” He nodded to where Max, Mariam, Ray, and Salima were finishing their battle.

Hilary didn’t agree, but chose not to argue. Instead, she looked up at Tyson.

“What about you?” she asked suspiciously.

“Well,” he said with an arrogant grin put on, she suspected, solely for her benefit, “obviously I’d still be the World Champ, but I’d blade with you as my right-hand over Daichi any day. You’d be a close second-best of all time.”

“Gee, Tyson, that’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to the battle once again.

Ray and Salima were mounting a final attack. Static from Driger and wind from Noctalon made the sand around their beyblades suspend in midair as they circled one another, headed straight for their opponents. Hilary could feel Tyson watching just as raptly as she was, as they collided with Draciel’s weakened defenses with a loud, electric crackle.

Draciel cried out and began to crumble under the assault.

“Sharkrash!”

In a flash of light, Mariam’s beyblade sliced through Draciel’s force field from the opposite direction and landed a fast, solid hit to Driger and Noctalon.

Hilary’s eyes widened with realization; Mariam had yet to attack with full power. Now that she and Max had worn Ray and Salima down enough, she laid the attack on thick. It wasn’t an unfamiliar tactic for Max, but seeing it used in a double battle was new enough to make Ray and Salima let down their guard.

Salima gasped as their beyblades were thrown back and landed, completely still, by her and Ray’s feet. The pair of them fell to their knees in the sand, panting and smiling, even in defeat.

“That was a good battle,” Ray said as Salima nodded her agreement beside him, slower to catch her breath.

When the dust settled, Draciel gave one last listless spin, before collapsing. Max fell to the ground, too, and said, “It sure was. I’m beat.”

“I think I have another battle in me,” Mariam said, sending Sharkrash on a quick victory lap around the battlefield and recalling it to her hand. She ignored Max’s answering laughter and whipped around to where Tyson stood at Hilary’s side. “What do you say, Tyson? Still up for playing the winner?”

Tyson ripped his hat off his trunks and slapped it on his head.

“You bet!”

As Max, Ray, and Salima got sluggishly to their feet to make room for the next battle, Tyson made eye contact with Hilary. Quickly, while the others were distracted, he pulled her close and pressed a soft kiss right in front of her ear.

“Next time,” he whispered, so only she could hear, “maybe we’ll both play the winner.”