AUTHOR'S NOTE - For a pretty long time now, this is the story that I really wanted to write. Took me nearly two years and a half of thinking about it and brainstorming, but I never really got around to actually writing it until now. I was going to give up on it, but reading other fanfics (like the excellent "Of Princesses and Black Cats" by disconnected15 and "Dirge of the Sea" by gare de lyon, among others) sparked my drive once again.

Oh yeah, some characters might be a little out of character from how they acted in the anime (which serves as the basis of the story, not the manga, which I haven't read). Also, there's a little swearing here and there and some blood later on.

I'll update this as much as I can, now that I've got a pretty decent outline of how things will progress, but since I'm not as free as I used to be, updates will come rather slowly, so I'm apologizing in advance for that.

Anyways, hope you like this one. My first Black Cat fanfic - "Eden: Stray Souls."

DISCLAIMER - I do not own Black Cat or its characters, like Eve, Train, Sven, Tearju, etc. These are all owned by the most awesome Kentaro Yabuki, author of Black Cat and artist of To-Love-Ru. He draws so friggin' awesome, his girls are the best, haha.

CHAPTER 1 - Six Years Later

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

Eve should be studying. A good, straight-A student like her should be studying during study period, especially when everyone else seemed to have their noses buried in their books. She could hear them mumbling names of states and dates and historical events, she could hear the busy scratching of pencil against paper. She herself still had a lot of material to go through, and even placed all of her study guides and books on top of the table to remind her that she still had much work to do. It was almost the end of the school year, and with finals coming up, everybody was starting to feel the pressure, including Eve's senior class.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

But not Eve. She couldn't help it. Her fingers were drumming her pencil against the table; her right foot was tapping on the floor. She kept looking at the wall clock (2:50 p.m.) and her own wrist watch (2:51 p.m.), clicking her tongue when she would found out that since the last time she checked the time, not even a minute had passed.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

She was pouting. She kept heaving sighs. She kept looking out the window to see if the usual stream of students bursting from the school doors as if a prison breakout was taking place, but there was only the janitor sweeping leaves in the quadrangle.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

She checked her cellphone again, a black clamshell phone with a black kitty accessory tied to it. The screen showed the time (2:49 p.m., she clicked her tongue again), but her eyes moved to the upper right corner of the screen. There should be a small white envelope icon there; she kept telling herself that there should be one, but there was only the signal indicator, no envelope, much to her dismay.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

Last time there WAS an envelope was just an hour ago. She signed up for a text notification service, and every time she would receive an e-mail, she would receive a text message. A friend of hers from school advised her against it, saying that she'll only lose money because Lord knows all sorts of spam could really get in any e-mail service these days. Spam filter? Useless, her friend would say, and she'd lose a cent for each spam she'll get.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

But she reassured her overly conscious friend, saying that, "I only receive mail from one person, anyway." That piqued her friend's interest, but Eve told her that that was her little secret.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

She accessed her phone's message function and checked her inbox. 231 messages, it said under the "Inbox" title, but she only needed to read the first one. Its subject header was "You Got Mail!" She opened the message and read it again, now for the seventh time.

From:

Received: 4/21 1:49 pm

You have received one e-mail.

Sender : B-Cat (supertrain1324(a).c0m)

Subject: I'm comin' home!

If you have received this message by mistake, please contact our system administrator.

She chuckled every time she saw the sender's address. Supertrain? Cheesy as it sounded, that's really, really Train for you, she thought. But it wasn't important right now, compared to the subject.

He's coming home. She must have repeated the subject in her mind a hundreds of times now.

For six years he had traversed the whole world, living his self-proclaimed "Stray Cat" lifestyle and working as a Sweeper. After he left so abruptly after the now historical "Eden Incident," without even saying so much as a goodbye, he somehow found time in his busy Sweeper schedule to get an e-mail account. His first e-mail to Eve was a year later the incident, and Eve, only thirteen at the time, couldn't contain the surprise she felt when she first read his first message to her: a simple hello, a short message and a picture of him on top of a pile of bad guys with what apparently was a pyramid in the background. How he even found out her e-mail address seemed insignificant at the time.

He probably intended this to be a rare occurrence, since he explicitly stated in the e-mail that he'll write again in a couple of years. However, Eve immediately replied to him, asking a barrage of questions: where he was, what he was doing, and more importantly, "why the hell did you leave so suddenly?!"

Eve was usually a quiet person, but she even surprised herself when she read her e-mail; she might as well be screaming at the top of her lungs by the way she wrote it. But, she only read this again after it was sent. Face in palm, she felt her flushed cheeks, probably red with embarrassment.

She received a reply the day after, but to her disappointment, all he wrote that he was in Egypt right now, bagging some grave robbers, and that goodbyes weren't really his thing, all in one long sentence; not even a "Sincerely, Train" at the end of the e-mail.

Irritated, she wrote back, stating that he should have AT LEAST said something before she left, instead of making everyone worry. She was going to write "making her worry" but she blushed, wondered why she would even worry about some insensitive punk dirtbag who couldn't even say goodbye, and changed it to "making everyone worry." She sent it and waited in front of the computer.

To her surprise, she received an e-mail reply right away. She imagined Train to be in an internet café of some sort. He wrote, "I know, I know, but like I said, I'm not really good with goodbyes. Sorry if I made you guys worry."

She replied, "Well, come home soon. Everyone's still wondering where you are." That was all she wrote, hoping that Train hadn't left the café yet.

She was relieved to receive a quick reply. He wrote, "Sorry, but I'm in the middle of something right now. Turns out these bad guys I'm tracking down are linked to a bigger group. So, BIG money! Woohoo!"

She wrote, "Wow. So when are you coming home?" She made sure to write nothing else in order to make it appear that she wasn't impressed.

"I'm not really sure," he wrote, "Maybe when I feel like it?"

She remembered how loud she yelled, "WHAT?!" when she received that e-mail. It didn't matter at the time, as she quickly replied, her fingers loudly banging on the keyboard, "WHEN YOU FEEL LIKE IT?! IDIOT! JERK! WHEN THE HECK IS THAT?!" In all capital letters, even.

She sat in front of the computer, her face in a pout, her arms crossed, her fingers tapping. She waited impatiently for a reply. 10 minutes had passed, and there still wasn't a reply from Train.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

An hour passed. Still nothing. Eve grinned uncharacteristically. He's probably writing a page-long essay on how sorry he is, she thought, amusingly.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…

Another hour. Was he mad? Eve stopped tapping her fingers and pressed the Refresh button on her browser a few times. Still nothing.

One more hour passed, and still nothing. Eve cursed herself for being so impulsive three hours ago. She was acting completely unlike herself. She never usually lets her emotions get the better of her but this time she really went out of control. Was he mad? She pressed the Refresh button again and again, and still, nothing appeared in her Inbox.

Another hour slowly passed. Yes, he's mad, she thought, and she doesn't know why, but the thought of him angry at her made her feel miserable. Her heart felt heavy and her breathing came hard and ragged. It felt like something was on her shoulders and it was uncomfortable. She had no idea why she was feeling this way, but she wanted it to stop. Choosing her words carefully this time around, she wrote to him, saying, "I'm sorry for yelling. Please don't get mad." After pressing the Send button she folded her arms and placed them on the table, promptly burying her face in them, praying for a quick reply.

Another hour clocked in, and finally, when she pressed the Refresh button, a new e-mail appeared. She was a little hesitant to open it at first, but clicked it anyway. It read, "I'm not mad, and sorry for not being able to reply so quickly. My prepaid ran out and I had to run around town looking for a shop that sold 'em. Sorry again."

Eve must have slapped herself more than enough times than she could remember. She knew better than to jump to conclusions but she was acting completely out of character today. She had no idea why. Was it because of Train?

She was surprised to see that there was more to his e-mail. It read, "I have to apologize again, but I really can't come to you guys right now. I'll be honest with you, princess; I'm doing a little soul-searching. I guess it's better to say that it's not that I can't come, but I shouldn't. Sorry if it sounds weird."

Princess? She blushed at the word. She hadn't been called that for a long time. But, shaking her head, she concentrated at the more important part right now: soul-searching. She replied, "Is everything all right?"

To her relief, he replied, "Yeah, I'm okay, thanks for asking. I can't really elaborate on it; I don't know if I can put it into words. Sorry again."

There was an attachment at the end of the e-mail, and when Eve opened it, she could hardly contain her laughter.

It was a picture of Train, on his knees, with a teary face (she could see the eyedrops in one corner), his hands clenched together, stretched to the sky, as if begging the Gods for forgiveness. Eve had no idea how he got a camera and how he took it but she was too busy laughing to even think about it.

It was then Eve realized that she WAS laughing. Out loud, even. She hadn't laughed like that since… ever since, she discovered. Sure, Sven made some corny jokes now and then but nothing like this. It felt good, her heart felt light.

She was going to write a reply when she discovered that she had another new e-mail, from Train again. It said, "You're laughing, aren't you? If you are, good. If you're not, then I embarrassed myself for nothing, LOL. (God, I actually used LOL)."

She replied, "I am, but you really didn't have to do that. Sorry if it seems like I'm prying. I guess I should respect your privacy. I'm just glad you're doing okay."

He replied, "Thanks. So, how are things there?"

She answered, "Oh, I'm in school now, Sven enrolled me in one of the local schools here in the city."

She was surprised at how open she was when writing these e-mails. Maybe it was because it wasn't a live conversation and that Eve wasn't facing Train face-to-face, but even she thought that she was the reserved kind of person, who chose her words before speaking them and remained calm and collected. But here, she was speaking her mind, freely conversing with a person whom she never really had a decent conversation with before.

And to her even greater surprise, she was actually enjoying it.

Six years later, the two had been exchanging e-mails almost every week, and if their time zones permitted it, talked to each other with instant messengers everyday. Train sent her pictures of the places he'd been to, of all the criminals he caught, and all the adventures he had. Eve, on the other hand, sent pictures of the important things that had been happening to her: getting accepted into a good school, her first prom (a disaster, she insisted), club activities, field trips, school festivals, all the good things.

Three years after her first contact with the traveling Train, Eve, then sixteen years old, she sent a picture of her and Sven (doing a peace sign, of all things. Eve couldn't look at the camera in embarrassment) holding up adoption documents. Eve was now an official Volfied.

In their instant messengers, Train wrote, "Wow, you're really old man Sven's daughter now, huh? Congratulations…is what I really wanted to write, but I thought you had a thing for Sven?"

She wrote back, "Well…he turned me down, actually, a year ago."

He replied, "Ah, so that's what it was about…sorry about that, I should have realized that you were talking about yourself in your e-mail back then."

She smiled, writing, "It's okay. Even I realized later on that my love for him was more like a father-daughter relationship anyway. I was just confused, I guess."

At the time, she couldn't tell if she was telling the truth or just covering up the very slowly healing, but painful heartbreak. She wanted to talk to someone about it, and was glad that she had a confidant in Train. She was surprised that she was even talking about this to Train, of all people, but he proved to be a comforting friend time and time again.

He said, "Well, as far as I can tell from your pictures, you're turning into quite the beautiful lady, Princess, that I guarantee! Only an idiot wouldn't want to ask you out."

"Idiot," she replied, not really thinking about it. Only after a long, long while did she realize what her reply was insinuating and hoped to God that Train was still as dense as she remembered.

Only an idiot, he says…and then I call him an idiot! Aaagh! Eve, come on! She thought miserably, but when Train changed the subject ever so briskly, she couldn't tell if she should be happy or frustrated.

Reading Train's letters of his adventures made her realize how she missed the good old days, when she was still a kid of eleven and she was traveling with him and Sven in their car, chasing down bad guys and risking their lives at every turn. She missed the constant thrill, the adrenaline rush, the excitement one felt during a fight. But, however she wished for that kind of lifestyle to come back, right now, her Sweeper profession was on hold (her license expired around a year ago) and she had to concentrate on her studies.

But, nowadays, the most exciting thing that could happen to her was when it was finally time to go home.

This was the reason why she enjoyed exchanging letters and messages with Train, because the way Train talked about his exploits, with so much color and vitality and the way he worded his sentences, it was almost as if she was with him on those adventures. She could vividly imagine him brandishing his gun, Hades, facing countless villains and taking them all down once the dust settled. It was almost as if it provided an escape for her from her now mundane life.

And now that very same Train was coming home, at last.

She wanted to thank him, for all the letters, for all the fun, for the companionship despite the distance between them. But, not only that, she had been holding it in these past six years, since she truly wanted to thank him in person. She wanted to thank him for saving her life all those years ago.

It took her some time, nearly six years, in fact, for her to realize that she actually just missed him, and despite the pictures, she just wanted to see him again, face to face.

"Hey, miss, wake up! Wake up!"

"Whuh?"

Eve lifted her eyes from the desk. Had she fallen asleep? She looked around.

It was dark. The sky was already a shade of orange. The lights were turned off and no one was around except for the janitor who woke her up. It was strange, considering that the time should still be around 2:50 p.m.

"What time is it?" she asked, groggily.

"'Time', she says. It's almost a quarter past 5:00, miss!" the janitor replied, exasperated.

"W-WHAT?!" she screamed, and looked at her watch, the wall clock, and her cellphone clock. He was telling the truth. She overslept, and the truth fell on her like a brick.

Then it dawned on her. Train's e-mail! Stopping for nothing, she quickly packed her things and bolted out of her classroom.

Normally, she'd use the door, but clearly this was an emergency, at least for Eve.

She leapt out the window.

"MISS! Oh God, oversleeping isn't a reason for suicide! Come back!" The janitor screamed, reaching out to grab her legs, but he missed by a few inches.

She could feel the wind in her hair, in her face, in her arms. It's been a long time since she did this, she wondered if she could still pull it off. She smirked. Of course she can. She clenched her fists and concentrated.

Her shoulder-length blond hair suddenly became much longer, nearly as long as the length of her body, and then divided in two. Then, the strands of her hair joined together, each fiber clumping together to form golden feathers. The wind passed through the new feathers, lifting her, taking her up to the sky as she flapped her newly formed wings.

The janitor could only stare in awe as the supposedly suicidal student suddenly sprouted wings on top of her head and streaked across the afternoon sky and soon disappeared from sight.

"I'm home," Eve announced as she opened the back door, escaping the rain that had just begun to pour only a few minutes ago. She first made sure no one saw her land in her backyard, and quickly dispelled the wings. The feathers became strands of hair once again as it shortened back to its normal length.

Grabbing a paper towel on the kitchen table, she looked around, trying to listen for any sounds as she dried her hair. Save for the pouring rain outside, the house was totally quiet. Her father was probably out at work. Perfect, she thought, as she dashed straight for her room.

After changing out of her wet clothes, she quickly opened her mail service and checked her inbox. She nearly squeaked in glee as she saw the inbox had indeed one new e-mail, again, from B-Cat (supertrain1324(a)yeehaw.c0m). She wasted no time in double-clicking it and reading it.

Dear Princess,

Finally, I bagged that triad boss I mentioned a week ago. He just wouldn't give up, seriously, even after I took down all his chumps! They seriously had no business in messing around with the Black Cat, y'know? But you knew that, huh? You know how awesome I am, haha.

So, I got a nice big wad of cash for my troubles, which I quickly deposited into my account. Yes, yes, I still have that account, like you advised. I still like my big, black, safe idea, but whatever, I'm kinda rich right now! All the milk and bread crusts I can buy, woohoo!

Seriously though, like the title says, I'm visiting you guys. I think that of all people, I deserve a break, y'know? It just so happens that I'm in a nearby country, so I'm gonna drop by and see you guys. Cool, eh? I booked my flight already and I should be arriving around 3:30 pm, your time.

Pick me up, okay? Thanks, princess!

Train

P.S.

My motorcycle should be arriving a few days after my arrival, so could you ask Sven if he can help me pick it up when it comes? Thanks.

She froze after reading the e-mail, her eyes wide in shock. She should be happy, of course. Train's coming home! She should be happy! But all she was thinking of right now was, "Oh my God oh my god oh my god…"

3:30 p.m.

She looked at the room's wall clock, her watch, her cellphone clock, and her PC's clock.

7:00 p.m.

She was late, way too late. Flying there would be foolhardy, because of the rain, and even if it wasn't raining, it would at least take her roughly an hour to get there. Sven wasn't here so she couldn't even take the car, and if she did commute, it would also at least take her an hour to arrive. She had no means of contacting Train other than her computer, and she doubted that Train would be near a computer at this time.

Train's probably waiting at the airport, drenched in rainwater, pissed off beyond measure. She could see him angrily picking up his bags and heading straight for the ticket office, booking the next flight out of the country.

Not wanting to lose the chance to finally see him one last time, Eve quickly dashed towards the telephone. Picking up the telephone directory, she began to scan the numerous pages for the number of the airport. She didn't really know what she'll say once she does make the call, but she was running out of options.

Eve was not going to miss him again, not after six years of waiting. E-mails and instant messages could only convey so much. But not this time, she decided, she was going to meet him for the first time in six years. She would not wait any longer.

But despite her haste, she suddenly paused for a bit, the monotonous dial tone droning in her ear. Her eyes fell on the picture Train sent to her roughly two or three years ago. It was a simple one, no bad guys tied up or no battle-torn scenery behind him, just him sitting on a bench, a bottle of milk in his hand, smiling his usual goofy smile.

Her heart was beating rapidly, and her face felt flushed, and for the first time in her life, she thought she had an idea why. She was doing so much just to see him, to hear him again, to see his face… what else could this be, she thought. It felt almost the same as her feelings for Sven all those years ago, but these seemed much warmer, much more intense than before.

She wanted to be sure. She had to make sure. She had to know if this was nothing more than a phase or if it was something real. She wanted to discover what these feelings, which she had been holding inside and letting it grow for nearly six years, truly were.

The only way to do that was to meet Train. Eve was not going to let him get away.

As she dialed the numbers, she heard the car screeching to a halt just outside her house. She recognized the car horn as it blared; it was Sven's car. Immediately she put the phone down and proceeded to change her clothes. Sven would be tired from work, she was sure, but she had to convince him to take her to the airport. Explanations would have to come later.

"Geez, you could've at least brought us some souvenirs."

That was her father's voice. "Who is he talking to,' Eve wondered as she put on her shoes. No matter, if he or she was a guest then he or she would have to wait.

"Souvenirs? Is that what you think of me now, huh, Sven? After six years, I've been reduced to a mere souvenir delivery boy? Huh? I thought we were friends!"

An unfamiliar voice, this one. She had a strange feeling that she heard it before, but she didn't have time to think about it. She picked up her wallet and descended down the stairs.

"Don't be so melodra – Wait! It's still raining outside!"

Sven again. Who was he talking to? He seemed to be on pretty friendly terms with him. She bounded down the stairs and quickly headed for the living room, where Sven was.

"Sven? I've got a favor to ask," she immediately said as soon as she entered.

Her father just smiled at her and thumbed towards the door, saying, "It'll have to wait. Looks like we have a guest for tonight."

"B-But! I have to go to the airport! I have to…m-meet someone…," she suddenly went silent. All of a sudden Eve felt that it wasn't a good idea to bring Sven along to pick Train up. She didn't want him to be…what did they call it, a chaperone? A third wheel? A nuisance?

"Airport? But I've already been there," Sven replied, nonchalantly.

"Huh?" Eve had the most confused look on her face. Why the heck was Sven at the airport?

"I got an e-mail from him just a few hours ago. Seriously, don't they usually prepare for this in advance? If I hadn't been in the vicinity at the time, geez, he really is a stray cat," Sven answered, groaning.

Stray cat?

"Sven! SVEN! Help me out here, man! This is kinda heavy!"

She knew it. She knew that voice. Her hand clutched her chest; she could feel the rapid beating of her heart.

Despite the loud pouring rain, Eve's picked up a miniscule sound along with that familiar voice. A familiar tinkle of a bell. The very same sound of the bell choker she made him long, long ago.

He dropped off his the last of his luggage just outside the front door. He was drenched, but stopped just to see the blond girl who was seemingly frozen in place.

"Hey, princess. Long time no see," he said, with that goofy grin that Eve always loved to see.

A crack of lightning streaked across the sky, a thunderous boom following its wake. For a moment, everything around them was seemingly washed in a flood of white, only to turn back into darkness just as quickly. The lights were out.

"What? A blackout? Lemme get the flash – oh wait, nevermind," Sven stopped as the lights went back on. He faced Train and said, "So what did you want…Train? TRAIN!"

Eve's eyes were fixed on Train the whole time. She saw everything, despite the lightning, despite the blackout.

As the lightning cracked, merely a few seconds ago, Train had turned around, whipping out his gun, and aimed outside. The onyx housing of the Hades flashed menacingly as the lightning ended and the thunder began to boom. He pulled the trigger, but Eve noticed that his aim was suddenly off, his arm was raised too high, his stance was all wrong.

She thought she heard another sound, hiding its presence in the thunder.

He began to fall. Hades slipped from his hands.

The thunder finished its roar.

The lights went off.

Train fell to the ground. His weapon fell soundlessly on the wet lawn outside.

The lights went back on.

"TRAIN!" Sven yelled, quickly running to his friend's side. He was on the ground, clutching his chest, screaming in pain. Blood began to gush out from where his hand was, and he was rapidly becoming ashen pale.

"Ugh, agh, it can't be…no – " Train's rambling was cut off when he screamed raggedly yet again in pain. He felt his left arm becoming numb, yet his chest seemed to be burning, searing in pain.

"EVE! Don't just stand there, dammit, call an ambulance!" Sven ordered, dragging Train's body out of the rain and into the house. He removed his white dress coat and quickly bundled it up, placing it on Train's chest, putting pressure on the wound. However, the blood would not stop, Sven's coat gradually becoming crimson with Train's blood.

She ran for the phone. Her vision was blurred with her tears; her trembling fingers barely pressed the right numbers. With a shaking voice, she told the operator the situation and begged for help. When the operator confirmed her location and assured her that help was on the way, Eve dropped the phone, took the first-aid kit, and ran back to Train and Sven, dropping to her knees as she tried to help him out.

He was getting cold. He was still bleeding profusely, and sometimes he would still scream and gasp in pain.

This wasn't supposed to happen, Eve thought. She was going to wake up and find out that this was all just a terrible nightmare, she wished. She would wake up and find out that she didn't receive an e-mail from him saying that he was coming home, but that was all right. At least, in a sense, she knew he was still all right.

But as his warm blood touched her fingers, she knew this was reality. She knew that this was really happening. There was no use denying it, as she wiped her stinging tears and tried her best to provide the best care she could.

On what was supposed to be Eve's happiest day in six years, Train Heartnet was dying.