Black Cat Fan Fiction ❯ A Different Fate ❯ A Friend's Departure ( Chapter 6 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Disclaimer: I don’t own Black Cat. That is all.


A single copper eye opened slowly, a pointless effort since everything was foggy. It felt as if he jumped out of a plane and was now swimming amongst the clouds. He blinked painfully several times in an attempt to clear his vision.


Once he could see, he strived to recall his last moments before passing out. That was a bad idea on his part. Thinking made his already aching head ache worse. He couldn’t even groan from the pain as his throat was bone dry.


Saya… He thought painfully. That’s right, they were attacked by some homicidal maniac for unknown reasons. Clearly he had survived - though he wasn’t sure how - but Saya. What happened to Saya? The last thing he remembered before he lost consciousness was a bullet being shot by her, nailing the man in the back of the knee.


The battle was so quick. They did practically no damage to him. Actually, they probably did no damage to him. Although he wasn‘t sure how the man’s body handled the shot to the knee, the shot he took to the hand seemed more like a new born kitten bite than an actual injury to him. Sven didn’t even get the chance to use his Vision Eye - though he wasn’t even sure if that would have worked.


Sven desperately tried to stand, to even more an inch in any direction hoping to find the girl, but to no avail. Everything hurt. Every muscle, bone, skin fragment, even his hair was mysteriously shooting with pain.


The lunatic did bash me in the skull, guess that might explain the aching hair. It still didn’t really make sense, but then again it didn’t really matter. It hurt and he was forced to accept that.


Despite the pain he swallowed hard, trying to wet his parched throat so he could call out to his new friend. He needed to know what happened to her and the darkness that surrounded him made it impossible to see.


“Saya…” He cursed in his head at how quiet his voice was. He had to yell louder. There was no way to reach the girl if she didn’t hear or see him. Summoning up all the strength left in him, he shouted her name as loud as he could, even though the volume sounded like normal talking level. “Saya!”


No response. What did that mean? Did she not hear him? Or Did she get away and leave Sven? No, she wouldn’t do that. I may have just met her, but she definitely wasn’t the type to leave an injured man behind. Besides, he highly doubted that madman would let her run off so easily.


He squinted his one eye and peered through the darkness. Many feet ahead - too many feet for a man in his condition - he spotted a white figure sprawled along the floor. It was a toss up whether or not it was Saya or the crazed swordsman. The knowledge that they were both wearing light clothing made it hard to tell. Not to mention they both had a feminine look. He had to find out who it was, even if he regretted it later.


Sven put all his weight on the hand that was less sufferable and kneeled on one knee. Clenching his teeth in pain, he slowly put weight on the opposite knee. They were a bit better off than his arms and hands were, so he would rely on them more for movement.


Using only his knees and one hand, the sweeper started to make his way over to the white mass. The distance was really only a couple feet, but it felt more like hundreds of miles to this old sweeper.


As he got closer his heart started to beat faster. With each inch the figure came more into focus and it was not that of a homicidal man. It was that of a petite woman.


No… He thought mournfully. No… It can’t be her. Please let me be wrong. Please let it just be damaged vision. His thoughts of denial were stopped as he looked upon the lifeless face.


“No… Saya…” His heart stopped. He felt cold all over. A slow tear trickled down his cheek.


Using his other arm, he lifted the girl up and against his shoulder. “Saya! Saya, you need to open your eyes! You need to get up!” Shaking her slightly, he began to realize his efforts were useless. “Come on, girl! I didn’t even get to buy you your milk! How am I supposed to make up for ramming you down earlier?”


More tears fell as he gently placed her to the ground. What was he supposed to do now? What could he do? She deserved a proper burial, but he certainly didn’t have the strength to do it for her.


Without any other options, he took his jacket off and gently placed it over her cold body. Lifting his hat off, he bowed his head - neck aching and all - and gave her a silent prayer.


“I’m sorry, Saya…” he added regretfully, “I… I couldn’t protect you. I couldn’t help you. I allowed an innocent girl to be killed right before my eyes. I allowed a friend to die…” Again, tears fell, “I’m sorry…”


He sat there silently for what seemed like hours, not even aware darkness had taken over his weak body once more.


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“ ;Thank god that’s over with,” Train sighed to himself as he walked up the stairs to his room. The ten days of confinement felt more like ten years and all he really wanted to do was kick back and relax with a nice cold jug of milk.


The fireworks dying in the background signaled that the show was coming to an end. Too bad, that would have really loosened my mind. He shrugged it off and figured it’d be just as nice to sit on the roof and gaze at the stars.


As he stepped in front of his apartment door he felt his foot slip slightly. Looking down he noticed a white sheet of paper beneath his black shoe. He bent down to pick it up and saw that it was a note addressed to him. He could tell it was from Saya since it had, ‘Train-kun’ written on it. No one called him by that name other than his happy-go-lucky neighbor. He folded it open and read the contents inside.


Dear Train-kun,


First of all, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! Second, incase you didn’t know, there’s a festival down by the docks tonight. Since I was bored out of my mind I decided to go. If you get this note, meet me there. I won’t be back until late so you have time. Still, HURRY UP!


-Saya


Train chuckled at the girl’s desperation for company. The stars could wait, he’d go see if he could find Saya. Since the show was coming to an end she might have left by now. Still, it was worth a shot.


Slipping the note into his pocket he turned back around and down the stairs. As he left the apartment and shivered at the cold night air.


Why is it so cold? It’s summer time and I have my jacket on. What’s the deal? Walking towards the docks, he wrapped his jacket a little tighter around him. The dying fireworks got louder as he approached the docks.


Once he arrived he started searching for his sweeper friend. The crowd had died down considerably since the show was having its last flare. Saya wasn’t amongst this awed crowd, so he decided to search on the other side of the lake.


As he crossed the mass of water he spotted a milk vender. I’ll stop for some milk first. Might even piss the little girl off to see me with milk and her with none. He smiled sinisterly and bought a bottle. He just hoped she didn’t have one too. He still wanted revenge on her for drinking his milk the last time.


He sipped from the bottle and continued his Saya hunt. As he passed a dark alley something caught his eye enough to make him turn. He made a confused noise at the sight before him.


A man lay bleeding on the dark ground, apparently unconscious. He was a mess, covered in cuts and bruises all over and was barely breathing. There was someone next to him as well, draped in a jacket Train assumed belonged to the man. Studying the figure next to him further, Train choked on his milk. The jacket only covered the upper half of the body, revealing slender legs dressed in a white, flowery Yukata. Train only knew one person who would wear such a uniquely weird dress.


Dropping his milk, he ran to the figure and pulled the jacket back hastily. He froze solid at the bloodless face before him. There on the ground void of any life, was Saya Minatuski.


Train felt numb. How did this happen? What happened? It clearly wasn’t an accident. He could tell there was a struggle. Was it the man next to her? No that wouldn’t make sense. The jacket most likely belonged to him and if he was lying next to her then he couldn’t be a foe.


Staring down at Saya’s peaceful face, Train started to shake. He placed a hand over her chest just to make sure there was no heart beat. Not finding one, he grabbed her wrist roughly and checked for a plus. He refused to believe she was really dead.


“Saya! Open your eyes, dammit!” He shook her frantically. “Make a noise! Laugh, smile, move, something that shows you’re still alive!” No such luck.


This has to be a joke. There’s no way Saya could die. Who would want to kill her?


Not only that, Saya wasn’t the type of person to die so easily. He’d seen her fighting skills and she was good. Did her naivety not to kill a soul finally cause her death? Train always thought the fact that she refused to kill was a stupid notion and that one day it would get her killed, but he never bothered thinking about it. He merely pointed it out to Saya as a half joke.


Who? Who would want her dead? Who could kill her? She doesn’t have any enemies that I know of. Frankly, I can’t picture her with any. She’s too damn friendly.


Feeling no pulse, seeing no movement, he let her wrist fall gently to the ground, lost in his own thoughts. He looked blankly at her before his numbness turned into burning rage. He clenched his fists tight, trying to think of who could have done this.


On cue, the man next to her moaned quietly. Train looked over at him and watched as he tousled. After several painful moments, he managed to open an eye to the Black Cat.


“You… wouldn’t happen to be Train… would you?” His voice was a husky whisper.


“How’d you know? What happened here? Who did this to you? To Saya?” Train’s voice was hysterical as he asked question after question, seeming to ignore the pain the man was clearly in.


“So the prince as arrived…” He laughed weakly, “They… they talked about you… I don’t know what… I’m still confused… on everything…” he groaned again as it seemed to hurt to speak, “Said you were… locked away… cause of Saya…”


“Cause of Saya?” Train shook his head, “That doesn’t make any sense. Who did this?”


Train’s ears were greeted with yet another unbearable moan, “No… no name… wouldn’t give a name… Used…. Sword…”


“My qualm is not with you, one-eye.”


The tone of his voice…Sven thought tiredly.


“When I want something done, it gets done. Understand?”


“Seemed to be… business… Like… it was suppose to happen…” He added as he remembered the words of Saya’s killer.


No name? Sword? Seemed to be business? Train was still confused. Who kills out of business?


A thought suddenly formed in Train’s head. There was only one group of people that killed for a living. Only one group would murder and claim it was ‘just business.’


Chronos… He thought angrily. The fact that it was a sword just sealed the deal. Their number one agent used a sword. Train figured out she died by sword before he was told. The only problem was she seemed to have been played with before death. That wasn’t Sephiria’s style at all. Number I would never kill in such a way. She disposed of her opponents swiftly and smoothly. This looked more like a personal vendetta.


Still, he was told by an eye witness that the person made it sound like business. That would describe Sephiria pretty damn well. She handled her missions with no emotions attached, killing them with statements that made her sound like a lawyer explaining a case to their client.


Then why does it look like this was personal? Maybe Saya put up a fight. That was the only reasonable explanation Train could think of. This girl was not the type to go down without a fight. No matter who it was, she would not die so easily. Maybe Sephiria was forced to deal with Saya uncharacteristically.


Besides, who other than Chronos would even be able to find out of Saya’s existence? Who else could find out Train had been talking with a sweeper girl?


That had to be it. It was the only thing that made sense. Whoever this person was clearly had killed before, clearly meant business, clearly was good… and clearly used a sword. They not only took out Saya, but fought this man back as well. Train didn’t know who he was, but the fact that he was able to speak after receiving so many fatal wounds proved he was no push over either.


And Chronos kills anyone in the way of their mission. I can tell this man fought alongside Saya.


“You… you have to give her a proper burial…” Train was slightly shocked the man was still conscious. Talking even seemed a little easier for him. He really is tough.


Golden eyes looked down at a the stranger’s closed lids, “I know, and I will. But you need to be taken to a hospital first. I’m sure Saya would want that most.”


“But…”


Before the man could complete his sentence, Train lifted him onto his shoulders and charted him away. “I won’t leave Saya here. I will bury her. You can count on that.”


The man looked at Train warily, before understanding set in. “The Attaché Case…”


“The what?”


A weak hand pointed to a sliver case several feet away. “My weapon. I need it.”


Train had a complete understanding for attachments to weapons, so he sat the injured man down then walked over to grab the case. He returned and heaved the man back onto his shoulders.


The Black Cat’s shoulders got heavier and her realized the man had passed out. He continued his journey towards help until he saw a couple in the distance. Calling out to them, they turned around and gasped. Running towards Train and his companion they took some of the weight off his shoulders.


“Are you all right?” Asked the young blonde woman.


“I’m fine but he needs a hospital, now,” Train replied exasperated. “Would you mind taking him there? There’s someone else I need to go for.”


Nodding, the couple took the eye patched man along with his case. Before they could even leave his sight, Train turned around and walked resolutely in the other direction. Before he could even face Saya’s body again, there was something he had to do. Only one thing was on his mind.


Eyes burning with heat the sun would envy, the Black Cat made his way back to Chronos Headquarters.


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As Creed walked to Chronos Headquarters, he felt very proud of himself. Train would be released tonight and with the witch dead, he would surely be back to his old self. Not only that, the wounds sustained in the battle were nothing. Mere chicken scratches. The worst wound was on the knee, and that was nothing a knife to dislodge the bullet and a bandage couldn’t fix. As for his hand, it was just a scratch. After cleaning it, there wasn’t even a need for a band aid.


This was a happy moment. Train would be free and Creed would be the first one to greet him. He smelled the rose he was holding, the rose meant for Train. It was a gift celebrating his freedom.


As soon as he stepped foot into the headquarters he knew something wasn’t right. Something was obviously wrong seeing as it was pure mayhem throughout the building.


Guns were being fired and shouts echoed within the great halls. Rushing forward, Creed saw countless cronies knocked unconscious on the floor. He tucked the rose in his belt and pulled his sword out, ready for anything.


Moving deeper into the building, Creed could hear the shouting more clearly.


“Which way’d he go?”


“I think I saw him over here!”


“No, he’s too fast. He’s already moved. Stay alert! This is the Black Cat we’re dealing with.”


Creed stood stock still. Train? Is this ruckus caused from him? The swordsman was confused. What could cause his partner to act this way? Train wasn’t the type to just go ballistic for no reason. He could be pretty flashy in his work, but he wouldn’t do anything like this unless provoked.


More gun shots could be heard and Creed moved towards them. Not only that, why are the cronies still alive? I haven’t even heard Hades shoot.


He forgot the thought as he turn a corner and was greeted by his cat jumping from wall to wall, avoiding countless bullets aimed at him. Creed watched in awe as Train knocked half the guard unconscious with nothing but his hands.


Shaking his head in order to focus, Creed moved into action as well. He wasn’t sure what was making Train act like this, but he wasn’t about to sit back and watch as the only person he ever cared about fended for himself.


Jumping in front of a crony about to shoot Train in the back, Creed sliced the barrel, making bullets fall to the ground. Creed took advantage of the useless man’s shock and slit his throat.


Feeling beautiful eyes upon him, Creed turned around and locked onto Train’s golden orbs that never failed to make him weak in the knees. Train looked confused and Creed gazed deeply into his eyes. Finally Creed spoke up, “I don’t know what’s going on here, Train, but I’m not about to sit back and watch as my partner fends off all of Chronos on his own.”


Train seemed skeptical for a moment before being forced to leap over the swordsman, avoiding a series of bullets. Creed was able to block them all, laughing as he did so.


The Black Cat now stood back to back with Creed, causing the sliver haired man’s heart to race fast.


“I don’t need your help,” Train said coolly as he watched the guards surround them. “But I doubt you’ll listen.”


Creed snickered, “Like you’re one to talk. Since when has anyone controlled you?”


He couldn’t see it, but Creed was positive his cat’s mouth molded into a cocky smile. They broke off at the same time, running in different directions. Train, weaponless, had to kick and punch out the cronies while Creed was able to chop them down.


Stabbing another man, Creed couldn’t help but ask, “Where’s Hades? Why aren’t you using it?”


Train sent a gut blow to a particularly brave crony that tried to hit the Black Cat with his gun. Without turning around he shouted back, “Do you know nothing? They put Hades under restriction. That’s why I’m here. I’m getting it back, then dealing with Sephiria.”


Creed still didn’t understand the whole story, but he was prepared to fight alongside Train no matter what. Since Train was without his gun, Creed would have to protect his partner even more than usual.


After the last man fell, the pale man turned to Train, who was again leaping from wall to wall, avoiding more bullets. Creed gasped as Train actually jumped to the ceiling and shot himself at a Chronos crony.


While his beloved regained himself, Creed had the pleasure of knocking the members surrounding Train to the ground, each lying in a pool of their own blood. Train stood and dashed down the hallway, in the direction Creed assumed was Hades. It didn’t matter if Train was off to fight God himself, Creed would follow him to the end.


They reached the end of the hall without trouble. Apparently most of the lackeys had been disposed of. Reaching the door, Train kicked it down loudly, not even bothering to check if it was locked.


“Knock knock,” he said as he glanced around.


Creed had expected this room to be even more guarded than the others. The Elders must have sent every lackey they could after Train. Morons. You think they’d realize he was going for his gun and would at least put a number here.


“So, Heartnet, are you really set on leaving Chronos?”


The voice answered Creed’s thought. Belze stepped out of the corner of the room that was masked in darkness.


“The word’s spreading already, huh? Guess I should have expected such a nice farewell party when I made that decision,” Train stared casually at Belze as if he weren’t a threat at all.


Belze turned on Creed, “And are you leaving with him, Diskenth?”


Creed still wasn’t sure what was going on, but answered nonetheless, “If that’s Train’s decision then I will follow his path.”


“Are you aware of the fate of someone who betrays Chronos?” Belze asked both men with an deadly glare, raising his weapon.


“I think Chronos is the one that betrayed me!” Train shouted as he made a mad dash in the direction where he finally spotted Hades.


Without even thinking, Creed jumped in front of Train and blocked Belze’s attack. Number II was good. Very good. So good that Creed hoped Train would get Hades quick. He wouldn’t dare underestimate this man.


Belze slashed forward as Creed flipped using his unoccupied hand to land on. Crouching to the ground, Creed raced towards Belze again, determined to keep him away from Train as he fetched Hades. Dodging to the side, the swordsman barely avoided Belze’s weapon as it was shoved in his face, nicking his cheek.


Belze then swung Gungnir around, hitting Creed hard in the back with it’s long staff. Creed tumbled with the hit and sliced Belze’s black jacket. Even though it was only a small scratch, it was worthy of calling a victory.


Creed thrust his sword in Belze’s face as Belze did the same to him. Each man dodged to the side, avoiding the other’s blow.


“You know you don’t stand a chance against me, Diskenth,” Number II retorted calmly, “Why even bother? Stay with Chronos and maybe the Elders will go easy on you.”


Creed merely smiled, “I don’t need to stand a chance against you, I’ve got the best partner in the business who happens to be right behind you.”


Belze saw what Creed was talking about a little to late as he felt Hades smack him hard in the back of the head. Creed stepped out of the way to allow Belze room to stumble.


“As for returning,” Creed continued as if he’d never been interrupted, “You’ll have to ask Train. I’ll go where he goes and if that’s away from Chronos, then that’s where I’ll go.”


Belze kept his cool as he stood and stared both men down, “All right then, have it your way,” he slashed his Gungnir through the air, “This isn’t personal, Heartnet, this is business.”


That statement seemed to infuriate Train as he ran towards Belze, shooting several rounds. Belze blocked each one as Train approached and slammed his gun down. Right before it could make contact, Number II pulled his weapon up to block Hades.


Train growled lowly as he leaned close to Belze’s face, giving him the eyes that wet so many pants, “Business, business, business. Is that all Chronos thinks about?” He pushed harder, causing Belze slide back, “As long as it benefits Chronos, an innocent girl’s life means nothing, does it?”


Belze seemed bewildered by this statement, throwing him slightly off guard giving Train the chance to kick him harshly in the stomach.


“Have you ever stopped to ask why? Have you ever wondered if what you’re doing is wrong?”


Belze eyed Train alertly as he held his stomach. Standing up straight, he answered Train’s question, “We fight for the world. How is that so wrong?”


“Innocent people are part of the world, aren’t they? By killing them, aren’t you destroying it?” Number XIII made another jump towards Belze as Number II rolled to the side. The Black Cat followed suit and rolled after him. Sliding to a halt at the realization that Belze had disappeared to the other side of the room, Train shot four more rounds at him. Belze was able to block the first three, but the forth one managed to scrape across his shoulder, earning an angry grunt.


“Saya was one of those innocent people you killed! What could she possibly have done to deserve what happened to her?!”


Creed froze at that statement. Saya? He’s doing this cause of that witch? The spell should have worn off by now. He eyed his Train once more. He looked hurt, as if a close friend had been taken from him and his voice was full of pain and sadness.


Gun aimed, Train shot at Belze again. Belze jumped in the air avoiding the bullets and landed behind Train. Train didn’t even bother to turn around. He made a mad dash towards the wall, ran up it, flipped in the air, then dived off towards Belze, spinning as he did so. Gun raised, Train managed to repeatedly strike Number II across the head, knocking him to the ground.


Belze tried to recover from the blow, but Train pounced on top of him, gun aimed between his eyes. “You’re not the one I’m after,” he said darkly, cocking his gun, “Where-is-Sephiria?”


Why is he after Sephiria? Everything suddenly dawned on Creed in that moment. He thinks Chronos killed Saya, mainly Sephiria. He knew Train would be able to tell she died by sword which just happened to be Sephiria’s weapon too.


Creed turned his attention back to the battle at hand. Neither Train nor Belze had moved. Finally, Belze asked threateningly, “What is your qualm with Sephiria?”


The fire in Train’s eyes got a little hotter, “Don’t play dumb with me!” He screamed, firing a round.


Number II wasn’t about to go down that way as he shoved his spear in his face, preventing the bullet from hitting its mark. Belze then swung Gungnir (1) at Train, making small contact with his chest. Train jumped back, no even bothering to take notice to his wound further.

Seeing Train’s blood drip to the floor, Creed decided it was about him he intervened. As the two men ran towards each other again, Creed snuck behind Belze in an attempt to smack him in the head. He was already sure it wouldn’t work, but he really just wanted to get his attention to allow Train time to make a move.


Belze spun around, spear in the air, and made a slash at Creed. Jumping away just in time, Creed was able to avoid the attack. The plan worked as Train was able to fire another shot which lodged deep within Number II’s shoulder.


As Belze clutched his injury, Train fired another round at his hand, causing the spear to clatter to the floor. Belze stood and made a move for his weapon, only to have it swept away by Creed’s fluid like grace. Stripped of his weapon, Belze turned on Train. He still showed no signs of concern.


Train stepped forward, gun still aimed, “Tell me where Sephiria is,” he demanded coldly.


“I don’t know what you have against Sephiria, Black Cat,” Belze said coolly, “But if you think I’ll tell you, or if you even think you can take Sephiria on, you’ve gone farther over the edge than I originally thought.”


As Train scowled, ready to shoot again, hundreds of Chronos cronies burst through the already broken down door. Train took no interest in them and instead stayed still, watching Belze. Creed took a defensive position behind Train, bent on keeping him safe no matter what.


“Train, I think we should take our leave,” Creed whispered to Train, aiming both his weapon and Number II’s at all enemies surrounding them, “Belze may be hurt, but you know that’s not enough to keep him down. He doesn’t need a weapon to be able to fight and I doubt he’ll remain weaponless for long.”


“Leave if you want to, this has nothing to do with you,” Train answered, voice still cold as ice.


“That’s not what I meant,” Creed defended, “I’ll stay by your side no matter what, but you said it yourself, Sephiria is your only target. Don’t you think if she were here she’d be here by now? She‘s not the type to sit back and let something like this happen right in her master’s home.”


As Train remained silent, Creed continued, “Do you really want to take on all these cronies along with Belze? He only needs a single distraction to retrieve his weapon and with all this trash, he’s bound to get the desired distraction.”


Creed wasn’t the type to underestimate his opponents. He and Train could take out all these Chronos members with ease, but that would surely give Belze the moment to get Gungnir back. The fact he even lost is weapon was miraculous. Well, considering it was Train who made him weaponless, it isn’t that outlandish. Added to the fact that it was two against one, one of those two being the legendary Black Cat. Belze had the odds against him, but if given any form of distraction, he may have been able to regain his composure.


I have the utmost faith in Train, but I would never risk his life. Especially when a getaway seems more reasonable. Had Belze not been there or had the cronies not arrived, Creed would have allowed his love to continue his fight. But since there were so many opponents, one of them at least semi-capable, he wasn’t willing.


“I think a plan is in order,” Creed said finally after his calculations were done, “I know it’s not your style, Train, but in this situation, it’s the most reasonable thing to do.”


There was still no response from behind him and Creed was beginning to think he’d have to drag Train out of here by his ear. At last, Train raised his gun in the air, shooting out all the lights in a quick flash. Creed smiled, taking advantage of the darkness to knock out any lackeys he could, clearing the path for Train who was busy shooting in Belze’s direction so he wouldn’t take advantage of the darkness as well. Something as simple as lack of light wouldn’t stop that number.


After slaying all blocking their path with both Kotetsu and Gungnir, Creed discarded the spear, tossing it in the opposite direction of Belze. Such a weapon was not worthy of being used by Creed and he didn’t much care to own it.


Making sure Train had left the room safely, Creed followed suit after him. Now the halls were completely empty, leaving the ex-Chronos men free to leap out a nearby window and into the moonlight night.


Creed continued following Train as he sprinted far from the headquarters, Hades in hand, until the sprint slowed into a brisk walk. As the brisk walk turned into a tired stride, Creed decided it was time to ask, “What are you going to do now, Train? You know they won’t let you alone for long.”


Train glanced over his shoulder at Creed bewildered, “What concern is it to you? As I said before, this has nothing to do with you.”


“I still don’t understand why you say that. You’re my partner Train and I care about you. I won’t let you be alone.”


Train sighed a sigh Creed heard too often and continued walking. He seemed to know where he was going and Creed was beginning to recognize their path. He’s going to the spot of the dead witch. What does he plan to do? He decided not to voice his question. He’d just follow Train and help in whatever way he could.


They turned down the alley Creed had been in only hours ago and approached the figure on the ground. The swordsman decided to stop several feet behind the gunman as he knelt on one knee.


As he lifted the woman into his arms, Creed felt another surge of anger rise within him. He still cares about a dead woman? That spell must have been strong.


When Train turned around, Creed felt his heart break. He’d never seen Train look so sad, so hurt. Did I hurt Train? How could I have hurt him? I didn’t mean to, I was trying to save him. But that didn’t seem the case. It seemed as if by killing Saya, Creed had cause his cat and unbearable amount of pain.


Train didn’t make eye contact with Creed as he brushed past him. It took a moment for Creed to turn around as he seemed stunned by something he saw in Train’s eyes. A… tear? Is… is he crying? Creed felt like crying as well. He was confused. Train didn’t cry. Why was he crying? Why was he hurt? But most importantly, how do I stop him from hurting?


He snapped out of it and followed his cat once again. They walked through the dark streets in silence. Train lost in his solemn thoughts, Creed lost in confused ones.


Finally, they reached an old deserted park. One Creed figured had been unoccupied for years since it was in horrible condition. He wasn’t sure how Train knew about it, but it didn’t matter. Creed’s heart was hurting bad and his head pounded with questions.


Train placed the deceased woman on the dewy grass gently and began tearing at the ground. Creed watched in silence, wondering what Train was doing. Seeing the determined look in his eyes, Creed finally figured out what it was Train was trying to accomplish. He’s digging her grave… with his own bare hands…


Every organ in Creed body snuck to his feet. His heart rang with guilt. He had hurt Train. Hurt him real bad.


No, no that can’t be it. There has to be another reason he’s so hurt. This spell must have clung to his emotions so much that losing the person who cast the spell shattered them all. That had to be it. Train couldn’t have really cared about this witch.


Again, none of that mattered. All that mattered was that Train was hurt and Creed needed to help him.


Pulling out his sword, Creed gently moved Train to the side and began cutting at the ground. Train slowly rose his teary golden eyes to him. Creed looked down at his beloved cat and smiled warmly, “I told you I won’t let you be alone.”


“This… doesn’t concern you… This is my responsibility.” It felt weird saying that, as he wasn’t one to take responsibility for his actions. But… it is my fault. I should have been able to protect her. I should have been there to help her.


As much as Train wanted to stop Creed he couldn’t really. He started to feel numb again after seeing Saya’s body once more. The anger he burned off while retrieving Hades had only temporarily lessened the pain in his heart.


He was thrown out of his self abusive thoughts when he vaguely noticed Creed had finished digging the hole in the ground. Train stood slowly and picked Saya up. Jumping into the massive crater, he gently placed her back down. He stared down at the jacket covering her face once more before delicately pulling it off, revealing her face.


“I’m sorry, Saya,” he whispered quietly to her. Jumping out of the hole, Creed made a swift movement that pushed all the dirt on top of her. As he watched the dirt fall, he spotted a rock only a couple feet away. He went over to pick it up and placed it at the head of the grave. Pulling out his gun, he shot Saya’s name into it with perfect accuracy.


Even is his sorrow, whether real or magic based, he still has perfect control of his gun. Creed thought proudly. He still felt guilty, but not over the whore’s death. He glad she was dead. If it wasn’t for Train, he would have been dancing on her grave this very moment. He felt guilty over the fact that Train was hurt. His conviction that the spell was the cause of his hurt still remained, but Creed was the one who destroyed the caster, shattering the spell along with Train’s heart. He’ll get better though. He’s Train. He can over come this. He just needs me.


Creed eyed Train sadly. I’ll be the one to help him. I’ll get him past this pain, which will end the spell for good. That’ll ease my heart along with Train’s.


Creed stared at Train’s back as he gazed at Saya’s handmade tombstone. Out of impulse to comfort Train, Creed placed his hand on his cat’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. He then stepped forward to stand next to Train and wiped a away a tear that had fallen to his cheek.


Train pulled his head away from Creed’s hand and shook his other off his shoulder. He really didn’t want to be touched right now.


He felt another tear slip his control. He hated the fact that he was crying. Whether it was solitary tears or not he hated it. The Black Cat didn’t cry. The Black Cat didn’t feel pain. The Black Cat was emotionless. Then why does it hurt? Why am I sad?


Another tear fell and he felt Creed’s hand once again brush it away. This time Train didn’t have the strength to smack the caring hand away as he barely even noticed it there. All he could do was stare down at the pile of dirt covering his dead friend and beat himself up further. He didn’t make eye contact as Creed pulled him into a tight hug and placed Train‘s head on his shoulder, gently petting him.


Suddenly realizing what was happening, Train pushed Creed off and began to walk away. He heard Creed following behind him once again and stopped. “I want to be alone,” he stated through gritted teeth.


Creed stepped a little closer, “I told you, I won’t leave you alone. I think you really need someone now.”


He took another step towards Train, much to the Black Cat’s distaste, before speaking again, “Train, you never answered my question before.”


Back still facing Creed, Train responded, “What question would that be?”


“What do you plan on doing now?”


Train hadn’t really thought that far ahead. All he really knew was that Sephiria would pay.


“What else? Get Sephiria.”


“By yourself?”


Train turned a glare at Creed, “Yeah, who else would?”


“Me.”


The simple statement made Train jump slightly. He wants to help me? Wait, why does that shock me? He’s always saying stuff like that.


Train suddenly saw a red rose in his face. He looked up at Creed and cocked an eyebrow.


“This originally was meant as a gift for your release, but now I think it’s more of a comforting gift,” Creed said rather friendly.


Seeing that Train wasn’t going to be taking the rose, Creed took his hand placed it in the palm, closing the fingers tenderly. Train stared at the flower in his hand, “What do you expect me to do with it?”


It was Creed’s turn to cock an eyebrow, “You put it in water. Don’t you know anything about flowers?” Creed had given Train flowers before, what exactly did Train do with them?


Letting the hand holding the rose fall to his side, Train began to walk away again. Creed, yet again, followed.


“Train, you’re going after Sephiria, right?”


“Yeah,” Train said as if it weren’t Creed’s problem to worry about.


“But going after her is basically going after Chronos.”


“So?”


“Let me help.”


“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, it’s not your concern.”


“But it is, Train. Chronos isn’t exactly an organization that’ll fall so easily. You’ll need all the help you can get.”


Train tightened his fists at the idea of needing help, “I’m fine on my own. It’s been that way my whole life and I’ve managed to survive this long.”


“But you won’t be alone with me, Train,” Creed caught up to the man and forced him to stop by placing a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. He looked into Train’s cat-like eyes sternly before continuing, “Listen, there are a lot of people who want Chronos out of commission. I for one don’t like their idea of ‘peace’ and I’ve already met others who feel the same way.” After some quick planning, Creed decided to try out a new idea just formed on his cat.


Once he saw that Train was listening, he continued, “Have you ever heard of Tao?”


“Tao?” Train asked bleakly.


“Yes, Tao. It’s an ability that grants people amazing powers. The people that use them are known as Taoists.”


“…And you’re telling me this why?”


Creed laughed a little, “Because I’ve recently met two Taoist who bare a grudge against Chronos.”


Train sighed in annoyance looked away in boredom, “I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.”


Creed gently turned Train’s head to face him again, looking him in the eyes once more, “Because we can create an alliance with them. They showed interest in fighting Chronos. To even destroy them and everything they stand for. With their help, I’m sure you can get your revenge.”


Of course Creed knew Train’s revenge was misplaced, but he wasn’t about to say that. The last thing he needed was for Train to turn completely against him. Creed wouldn’t be able to take that. He’d rather die than have to fight against Train.


Train’s eyes burnt bright with fury and he smacked Creed’s hand away. “I don’t need help. This is my battle. I won’t let anyone interfere,” he paused for a moment to let his eyes bore into Creed’s further, “Besides, my only target is Sephiria. I could care less about Chronos.”


“Who do you think gave her the order? She wouldn‘t kill someone without being ordered to or if it benefited her masters.” He grasped Train’s arm and looked into his eyes pleadingly. “Let me help you. Let me ease your burden. I can’t watch you fight an entire organization without so much as lifting a finger. If we start a group that is equally, or even better than Chronos, they’ll surely pay for their crime.” Train’s eyes did not change, “Isn’t completely obliterating Chronos and their pride the best kind of revenge against someone like Sephiria?”


Train felt his face show understanding, but quickly reverted it back to anger, lowering his head in thought. He didn’t want help. Sephiria was really his only target. But you know Chronos is Sephiria. Attack her and you attack Chronos. Can you really take them all on alone?


He wouldn‘t admit that he couldn‘t. You’re too proud. That’s the very pride that cost Saya her life. If you hadn’t let your pride get the better of you and gone against Chronos, they wouldn’t have killed her.


“You know you can’t get rid of me, Train, so why don’t you just let me help you?”


Train rose his head to face Creed. He was right. No matter what Train did, Creed would be butting in. It would be so much easier and less annoying to just agree instead of having some star-stricken man follow him around. It’s less degrading too. The last thing I want is a cheerleader in the corner rooting for me as I fight.


Glancing back in the direction of Saya's grave, Train finally said, “Fine. Make your calls or whatever you need to do to get in contact with these people as soon as possible. I don’t like waiting.”


(1) For those who don’t know, that’s Belze’s weapon’s name (is it a spear? That’s what I figured it was).