Disclaimer: I don't own Black Cat, the anime or the manga, nor do I own any characters. They belong to their respected owners.

Note: This sort of blends the anime and the manga together. I had the anime characters in mind however. Enjoy! …Man I so wanted to write "Bullett" instead of "Bullet"!

Bullet for a Bullet

By: Lost-Remembrance (Red Tail)

Train could rest easy now. The fiery aching in his muscle from the bullet was a reminder. A signature of a closed contract. It didn't matter that he had taken some sort of specialized bullet. Lucifer, they called it. It didn't matter either way, no matter what the outcome would be.

Train secluded himself in the room they rented. Sven had tried to help him, getting him tea and whatever he needed like he was an invalid. He wouldn't let him. Luckily Rinslet distracted the frantic mother hen. It wasn't before he got scolded for his foolish action. He could have died after all.

Eve patched him up, silent as always. Her eyes categorized the wound and she effectively bandaged it to the best of her ability. He raised an eyebrow as he lifted his arm to inspect the bandage.

"Huh," he said, rotating his shoulder a bit, just to feel the sting as a reminder. "You're turning into a pretty good nurse there, Princess." Needless to say, she hadn't appreciated that comment.

She left, and Train collapsed back onto the soft bed. The door opened again and Rinslet and Sven followed into the room behind Eve. Sven looked embarrassed, as if he had been thoroughly scolded—probably by Rinslet.

The older man fell back into a chair by the bed. He slumped into the plush furniture, mumbling under his breath. Train just grinned at Sven, his partner and friend.

Sven looked up and scowled at the grin, thinking that the cat was just up to his normal mischief, before he took in the soft look in his golden eyes. There was no escaping the carefree and sincere emotion in them. His face might have been in a mischievous grin, but his eyes were completely serious.

Train felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. A weight that had been following him, haunting his conscience, since Sven took the bullet the gunslinger Apostle meant for him.

Even as a Number, Train refused help from anyone. If Creed did anything, Train gained nothing from it. As such, he could live his life free from any ties or feelings of being in debt. He could rest easy now though. He had finally fulfilled his debt.

FIN