Disclaimer: Do not own! I think I forgot this on one of my stories. Might have to go fix that…oops.
A/N: Well, I'm still working on The Black Cat and His Bloody Princess, and I'm very near finished with the second chapter, I promise! But my muse struck again, and wouldn't let me go. Plus, KyoxSakiFan did say this fandom needed more angsty Train, and I suppose Train gets a little emo in this story. I guess you could say it makes up for how un-angsty Train is in BCBP. Hope you like it!
~Reminded~
When it was time for the fireworks festival, Sven was the only one who attended. The reason for Train's absence was obvious, of course. When Sven hesitantly asked the young man if he wanted to go, Train just smiled and took another swig of his milk, looking thoughtful.
"Nah. I'll watch the house," he replied, casually. Sven hadn't pressed the issue.
Less obvious, however, was Eve's reluctance.
"I'm reading a good book," she answered. But the real reason was that something in her heart told her not to leave Train alone, not on a night that could only remind him of tragic memories. Also, the image of Train under the flaming tanker hadn't been a big deal to her at first, but now that she knew him, now that she truly cared about him (though she'd never admit it), the memory of him so close to death struck a cord in her. She didn't want to be reminded.
Sven could only shrug, determined to enjoy the festival with or without his partners.
~*TxE*~
Tripping was not something Eve experienced often. With a body made for battle, her movements were extremely graceful, and Eve rarely had trouble maneuvering even the least level of surfaces.
So she was a little shocked when she missed a step on the stairs and tumbled down the staircase, too stunned to try and catch herself. She hit the bottom headfirst with a painful thud, shaken and dizzy. Warm blood ran from her forehead, dripping down her face. Head injuries bled more, so Eve wasn't worried about that, despite the massive amount of warm, red liquid covering her features. But she was still a little woozy from the sudden drop, so she stayed on the floor, waiting for her head to clear.
And that's how Train found her. Broken and bleeding on the floor, fireworks exploding in the window behind her.
Eve took one look at his haunted expression and understood.
Saya.
He looked so pained, so tortured that Eve didn't protest when he picked her up and silently cradled her against his chest like a fragile doll. She didn't struggle when he gently sat her on the kitchen counter by the sink, wetting a washcloth with lukewarm water and delicately wiping the blood from her face. She didn't even argue while he washed the blood from her hair, examining the gash on the back of her head critically, wrapping gauze around it with such precision that it almost seemed he was performing critical surgery, not bandaging a shallow cut.
When Train finished he placed his hands on either side of her on the counter, leaning in to search her eyes. What he found there must have satisfied him, because he breathed a sigh of relief and let his head fall, resting his forehead on Eve's shoulder. Eve wrapped her arms loosely around him, feeling guilty and apologetic.
They stayed like that long after the faint sound of fireworks in the distance ceased, not pulling apart until Sven finally came home.
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A/N: Yeah. Hm. Kind of depressing. I was gonna give it a happy ending, but it just didn't feel like it needed one, you know? Well, I guess I'll go finish the next chapter of BCBP. See you!