Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. I don't own either Kingdom Hearts or Black Cat. The story, characters and settings of these are owned by Square-Enix, Disney, Kentaro Yabuki-sensei and Shonen Jump, respectively. Oh, and fan-girls…don't blame me for the scratches and bruises these two bishounen are about to receive. XD


Now, don't get him wrong. Train doesn't usually (i.e. ever.) take jobs that involve killing kids. However, the eraser could sense something about this kid that he had never felt before. And, it wasn't just because of the way the black-hooded youth had deflected his bullets with a strange, white object and then put it away in a flash.

And I haven't even shown myself to him… Train had gone through great pains to keep himself hidden, to get this out of the way quickly, and his rapid four shots proved to be useless. The kid knew he was there. This should be interesting…

"Come out." This is how Train knew he was a kid. The voice telegraphed a person barely 13 or 14. "I know you're there. Why not say 'Hi'?" Train dropped from the roof of a near-by building and stood to face his mysterious target. His own black over-coat whipped around his knees as he straightened himself. The Roman numeral 13 showed above the low v-neck of his coat; in contrast, his opponent seemed reluctant to reveal anything about his face or body. Black coat, stretching all the way to the ground, with a black hood attached which kept his face hidden from view, and black gloves on his hands.

"You shot at me?" Train was expecting to hear an accusation from him; however what he got was a mildly amused question. "Why?"

"Hmph. It's just my job." Was Train's answer. "Your luck has run out…" He drew his pistol: The Orichalcum made, black and gold gun, named Hades. He pointed it, and rapidly shot five bullets that tore through the other's jacket and down he went, in a pool of his own blood.

Or, at least that's what was supposed to have happened. Train blinked as he tried to process what just happened. The mysterious stranger had dodged all of his shots. No one was that fast. His opponent spoke up again.

"Well…not bad. You're as good as Xigbar, my comrade." He straightened up only to find himself dodging more bullets. No… the boy thought, watching Train's golden, feline eyes to predict where he was aiming. He's better. Even Xigbar can't help but taunt his opponent. This one is as professional as they come. And… He stumbled, and Train stopped.

Now, down came the hood, and the face was of no surprise to the Chrono Number. His face was young and almost innocent looking, his dirty blond hair spiked at every angle. The only mar on his face was a small scratch. Train almost blanched.

All of those bullets…and all he's got is a scratch? Train couldn't help but be impressed, but his mission wasn't over yet. He needed to kill this kid, one way or another.

"Not bad…" The newly un-hooded target spouted. He raised a gloved hand to the scratch, and rubbed gingerly. "You're even better then I thought." He extended both hands and black and purple tendrils seemed to emanate from them. "As a sign of respect, I'll only use these and not my dark powers. And…" He summoned two sword-like objects, one that Train recognized as the thing that he had used to deflect his initial shots.

"I'll tell you my name." He held both aloft, dropping into a fighting stance. "I am Roxas, aka: Number 13 of Organization 13, the Key of Destiny."

"I…I appreciate it." Train tried to take this in stride, but in the back of his mind, he was wondering what Sephiria had gotten him into. "I'm Train Hartnet, aka: Number 13 of the Chrono Numbers, the Black Cat." Roxas smiled slightly at the irony, and then disappeared. Train turned just in time to parry Roxas' swing with Hades and fired of a few quick shots. Roxas spun and used Oblivion, the black Keyblade, to deflect the bullets and swung Oathkeeper, the white one, downward. Train jumped back and fired another dozen rounds, hitting nothing but air. The young Organization member had jumped to avoid most of the shots and swung both blades to deflect the rest. His feet hit the building behind him and he launched himself forward, hoping to catch Train off guard. Train, however, took this in stride and fell back to stay out of Roxas' trajectory and then kicked the boy in the stomach, sending him flying skyward. Roxas wasted no time for pain and immediately sent a keyblade flying in Train's direction just as Black Cat had fired more rounds from his beloved pistol. Train's eyes widened and he dove out of the way, the unique sword just barely missing.

The tell-tale chimes meant that Roxas had already deflected the bullets and was falling back down to meet the assassin. Oblivion not three feet away, Train fired more shots on his back to keep Roxas busy. He turned and shot at the blade beside him twice to send it far out of the other's reach and kicked himself to his feet, just as Roxas landed.

Now his power is cut in half, thought Train, hoping that this would slow the young target down. Roxas merely raised his empty hand and the black keyblade shimmered and disappeared from its place on the ground and reappeared in its master's hand.

damnit. Train launched forward, firing more shots and Roxas went back on the defensive. Roxas saw a chance to swing as soon as Train got near; however the latter was expecting this. At the last minute, Train dropped down into a crouch and tried a leg sweep. Deflecting the last bullet, Roxas just barely cleared Train's leg with his jump and brought both Keyblades down. Train instinctively brought Hades to bear and blocked the double-handed swing with all of his strength. The force of the impact sent both warriors flying and hitting the buildings on either side of their make-shift arena. Roxas was the first to stand, dizzy and blinking, but fine nonetheless. Train gripped the wall for support as he stood, shaking his head and keeping a firm grip on Hades. The two combatants looked each other in the eyes and nodded. Roxas disappeared again, this time stopping right in front of Train to swing his swords at his opponent. Train dodged like lightning and still only stayed a hairs breadth away from the blades. Train tried to duck and leg sweep again; however this time he received a black boot to the face before he could spin his body.

Roxas stood back to watch Train fly about a foot before he bounded to his feet. He was proving to be an incredibly hard opponent to keep down. It was Train's turn to vanish, appearing to the left of Roxas only to leap skyward over the young Keybearer and fire a rainstorm of bullets. Roxas sighed, wondered if he was going to come out of this alive or not, then realizing that he didn't care, began deflecting bullets. This time, however, it seemed almost impossible to deflect all of them, as Roxas suffered two hits: one to his shoulder and the other tearing through his calf. Neither were crippling hits, they were painful, though, and Roxas fell to one knee as Train landed on the other side of his opponent. The assassin had finally one-upped this kid, and allowed himself a split-second to revel in this fact. Roxas finally got his bearings and sprung to his feet, immediately launching himself at Train, amidst another swarm of bullets. Train had to admit: it was pretty impressive to be so mobile after being shot, but it seemed that the young Keybearer wasn't allowing anything to slow him down. His Keyblades became a blur as he practically flew toward Train and suddenly he disappeared. The Chrono Number blinked and suddenly began waving his shatter-proof pistol, almost erratically. All that could be seen were flashes and sparks that flew from his gun, but Train knew that if let up, his body would then become cold-cuts.

To move at such intense speeds… He let himself ponder as he parried more cuts and slashes. After getting hit, not once, but twice? What the hell is he? The sheer force of the unseen battle began to make Train back step and he stumbled. It was such a small thing; a slight trip, his body barely moved.

It was enough. Roxas suddenly reappeared on the other side of Black Cat, his Keyblades at rest. Train was allowed one second for his eyes to widen to realize the mistake he had made and was then punished severely for it.

"Hah!!" Two long gashes suddenly appeared on Train's chest, a red X painted across his body. They weren't deep, but they seemed to do their job as Train looked back at Roxas, his left hand where the two gashes met and he scowled.

"Now it's two apiece." Roxas commented, idly. He turned, breathing heavily, to face his now equally injured enemy. "Shall we end this?" He held Oblivion and Oathkeeper aloft, a testament to his words. He meant it; Roxas was about to pull out all of the stops to end this battle. Train's eyes glowed softly, realizing this and understanding that only one of them would come out of this alive. With a silent agreement to this, they both disappeared. Reappearing, Train and Roxas fought, Hades and the two Keyblades nothing but blurs as they struck and parried, blocked and slashed.

Suddenly, Train caught both Keyblades with Hades and, tossing his gun skyward; he kicked the surprised Organization member in the chest and smirked. Tugging on the cord attached to the handle of his pistol, he fired as many bullets as he could at Roxas as was possible for him in three seconds. Roxas flipped to get to his feet, however he could not dodge at that angle and suffered more hits and fell to the ground. Train wasted no time; he ran, firing more gunshots and aimed at every major organ he could remember. A white flash and Oathkeeper was back in Roxas' hand, deflecting bullets as he jumped to his feet. As the gap between them closed, Train noticed something for the first time since shooting, and actually hitting him.

The blood that oozed from the bullet holes in his coat was black and purple wisps of smoke. Trains eyes went wide in shock. He wasn't human! He couldn't be!! Roxas took advantage of this slight mull to rush forward himself and thrust his lone Keyblade into his opponent.

Time seemed to stop. From a silhouette point of view, it seemed as if Roxas had plunged his blade through Train. From Roxas' point of view, he knew he had lost. Train had moved to the left, a split second before Oathkeeper had come at him; so the worst he received was a deep gash along his flank. Only slightly wincing at the pain, Train held the blade with his left hand and with his right…

"Good night, Roxas."

Blam.