Burning

By

Godell

Disclaimer: I don't own Black Cat. I own this vignette/plot of sorts, however.

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I wish you wouldn't burn so much.

At times it seems as though your very gaze is a fire, burning me from the inside out. Our other comrades feel it too—save for the Kirisaki girl, perhaps, but she thrives on fire—and that is why they fear you. That is why they follow you.

I often wonder if you notice that I am the only one who can stand beside you. I hope you appreciate it.

…

"Echidna?"

"Yes?"

"The roses are wilting. Are there any more? I don't want to give Train a dull welcoming. A person like him deserves more than that."

"I'll go get some."

"Good. Thank you, Echidna."

"…You're welcome."

Anything for you, Creed. No matter how foolish it is.

…

"Has Train arrived yet?"

"No, Creed."

"He was supposed to be here. I invited him. It's not nice to keep his partner waiting. Right, Echidna?"

"Yes, Creed."

"I'm going to go bathe. Can you set the water for me?"

"Yes."

"Thank you. And I want rose petals in it. They…soothe me."

"Of course, Creed."

It will be my pleasure. Unfortunately, you don't know that.

…

I turn on the hot water tap, watching as the water pours out in a dull roar. He likes it nearly full, and very warm.

The way I like it, in fact, but I can't say that.

The tub is nearly full. I take the basket of rose petals and scatter them into the water, feeling as though I am performing a ritual for a divine god. The petals are soft and cool on my skin. Comforting, in a way.

I hear you walk in, but don't bother to look. This is a private time for you. I won't disturb it.

After I finish my "ritual", I turn toward the door as you climb in, sighing.

…

"Wonderful as always, Echidna. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"So warm…is there a hot spring nearby?"

"I believe so, yes."

"Perhaps we should go there sometime. Everyone—and Train, of course. He'll like it, I'm sure."

"I thought cats didn't like water."

"Train loves a good bath as much as the next person. I should know—I'm his partner."

I don't know what to say. I'm not sure if I'll even bother.

…

"Echidna?"

"Yes?"

"Could you take my clothes and wash them? I think there's still some blood on them."

"All right. They'll be back in an hour or so."

"Thank you."

…

Some would say you have no shame, the way you walk around.

I often wonder if you use your natural good looks and grace as a way of subtle torture. That black shirt you wear covers your chest just barely, with that wild black fur erupting from the very-low collar as though you're a vulture or a lion. Your pants, at least, cover you completely—but in a way they're still too tight somehow. Those boots would look ridiculous on anyone but you.

I can't help but watch the way you move. You walk like a dancer, your every move designed for the stage. I often wonder if you're pretending or serious—if you truly consider the world your stage.

Your eyes still burn however, even when you're relaxed.

…

"Echidna?"

"Yes, Creed?"

"You look sad. Why is that?"

"…I'm always a little sad."

"…I see. That seems very dull. I don't like it."

"I'm sorry, Creed."

But I'm a little bit disappointed, too. I wish you weren't so perceptive sometimes.

…

You slept with me once, three years ago, when we were younger.

I thought you were innocent, that I had been your first. I hadn't. I will never be your first, and I understand this. I don't care if your love for another man has blinded you. In a way, you are at your most beautiful when you are blind.

At least this way, I get to lead you myself, in a subtle way.

…

"Echidna?"

"Yes, Creed?"

"Come here."

"…I'm here."

"Good. Give me your hand."

"…Why?"

"It's soft. Mmm…you would make a good mother, Echidna. Mothers should all have hands like yours."

"Your cheek is warm. Do you have a fever, Creed?"

"What? Oh. No, no, I'm fine. It's the water…and you."

"What?"

"You make me warm. Not like Train. Train makes me burn. But you…you're close enough."

"Oh."

But I don't want to be "close enough", Creed. I want to be the one who makes you burn.

The way you make me burn.

…

"Creed?"

"Mm?"

"Please let go of my hand. I'm going to check and see if Black Cat is arriving. Also, you might want to get out of the tub—you'll look like a prune otherwise."

"You're fantastic, my dear. Thank you. Don't worry, I'll get out shortly."

"No, thank you."

That isn't the first compliment you've given me, but I'll treasure it anyway.

…

"Echidna?"

"Yes, Creed? Ah, you're out. Good."

"I'm getting very impatient. He's late. I don't like it."

"What do you want me to do, then?"

"Distract me. Come here."

"I'm here."

"Good. Now…"

No, Creed, please don't. Don't kiss me. It'll hurt too much.

Too late.

…

"Creed…I don't understand…I thought you were going to wait for Black Cat…"

"I told you, Echidna, I'm very impatient right now. I need a distraction…a warm distraction…like you."

"A few of the Chronos Numbers are coming. We need to prepare."

"…Do we?"

I get the feeling you planned this. How very Creed-like.

…

I know that you don't really care for me.

That doesn't stop you from holding me close on one of your many ornate chairs, reveling in your power over me. Your touch burns as you slide your fingers down my shoulder, pulling my dress loose with slow, careful precision. You begin to step up the pace. Whispering your name, I try to get that damn shirt off you, but you instead take my hand and kiss it like the gentleman you try to be.

…

"Just relax, Echidna."

"Creed, this is foolish…"

"Oh, dear Echidna, you can be so amusing sometimes. You're trying to be the straight-laced one, trying to get me to focus. I'm already quite focused."

"But—"

"Hush, Echidna. It's all right. I've got you."

"I'm not—we're not in a romance novel, Creed. Don't try to act like it."

"I'm giving you what you want, Echidna. Don't ruin it for yourself."

I wish you would stop making sense.

…

It doesn't take very long until you're past all reason, and I am too.

You let me touch you. It feels nice, of course, discovering all the little details your clothes don't show. Your hands direct mine to where you want me to go, and I willingly follow, as I always do. Your skin is lukewarm, but at the same time your cheeks are flushed as our tryst nears it's end.

You settle me more comfortably on your lap, and I suddenly feel like a fool. As if I'm your concubine, your one-night stand yet again.

And then you begin again, and everything disappears.

This may be foolish, but then when it comes to you I'm always a fool.

…

Suddenly I'm holding onto the chair like it's my lifeline, my only way to stay sane.

I can feel your hands on my hips, almost holding on too hard, and I wish you didn't burn me. I feel as though I'm on fire, as though you're trying to consume me, turn me to ash.

Perhaps you are. It wouldn't surprise me.

Suddenly, I feel my body collapse in on itself, or so it seems. I shudder, and you slump in the seat, your eyes glazed over, your fire only a mild ember. Your lips are curled into a mocking grin, one that I don't like at all. I've seen this grin before, and I had hoped to see it only once.

…

"…Creed?"

Nothing. You're still smiling.

…

"…Are you all right, Creed?"

Stop smiling that way. I don't want to know you lied.

…

Your lips move slowly, not a sound escaping your lips.

I knew it. I knew you would say his name.

I don't know who I hate more—Black Cat or you.

…

"Was that all you hoped for, Echidna?"

"Let go of me."

"I thought so. I'm going to go bathe. Now don't worry, I'll run the water myself."

"All right, then."

"…In fact, why don't you come with me? I think you deserve a little soak after that."

"I'd rather—"

"Echidna. You're my right-hand woman. What kind of leader would I be if I didn't take care of you?"

You make me sound like a child, when really it's the other way around. I can't even tell if you're lying or not.

…

I get off you quickly and reach for my clothes.

You don't bother—you simply head toward the bathing room, a spring in your step. I follow behind you cautiously, not really understanding what brought this act of kindness on after such a painful one.

The tub is still warm—probably from the hot spring—and you slip in again, your smile not quite cold, but not quite hot either. You hold out a hand to me.

I take your hand.

…

"Echidna?"

"Yes?"

"Train is important to me. Very important. But so are you."

"I'm your right-hand woman."

"And you love me, even after I hurt you."

"How did—?"

"Echidna, you know how I am. I watch you on occasion. I know how you feel."

"No you don't."

"…If you say so. My, my, your back must feel uncomfortable. Does this feel any better?"

"…It feels very nice. Warm."

"Does this make up for before?"

"Creed, you know the answer to that…but thank you just the same."

"My pleasure."

Don't act so smug. I meant what I said. I can still feel your fire in my blood.

Perhaps I'll use this fire. Perhaps I'll make others burn, turn to ash, the way I want, the way you want.

Perhaps that would be best.

FINIS.