Author's Note: Well, here it is. The first multi-chaptered Sheldon/Kyoko fic on this site. And, what do you know…? It takes place four years after the manga and involves a very angry Kyoko and a very confused Sheldon. Strange. Might be somewhat out-of-character. But it's my idea of how things might turn out for the poor pair of Tao masters.

For those of you who have only seen the anime, you may be surprised that I write Kyoko as such a dark character. I haven't seen the anime, but I've read the manga, and Kyoko definitely has a dark side. I'm just elaborating on that facet of her character. This is what I think she would be like if that dark side grew.

Alrighty, then. Enough explanation. Here's the story. Don't be afraid to tell me what you think. Any criticism is more than welcome.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Black Cat. I also don't own Tourniquet, Anything for You, or Everybody's Fool. Those belong to Evanescence and Wind-Up records.

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I tried to kill the pain, but only brought more
I lay dying, and I'm pouring
Crimson regret and betrayal
I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved? Am I too lost?

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Chapter I: Everybody's Fool

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The whiskey burned her sensitive throat as it poured down her esophagus. Slamming down the shot glass on the polished cherry-wood surface of the bar, she blew out a deep breath. It was just one more boyfriend; she had dumped countless others before him. He hadn't been special, or anything…just another head on the chopping block. Still, the whole situation frustrated her. The fact that she was completely incapable of getting emotionally involved with any of the men that she met was completely infuriating. The most that she could feel for them was lust, and even that was short-lived. In the end, she just found that she was bored out of her mind.

Raking her slender fingers through her long black hair, she closed her eyes momentarily, then held out her shot glass for the bartender to refill. He gave her an incredulous look, then shrugged and granted her unspoken request. It was her sixth shot in one sitting, and she didn't even like whiskey. Not that it mattered, or anything. All she needed was something strong.

She couldn't even remember when she had started turning to alcohol to ease her awareness of her troubles. Everything just seemed to blend together. After she had heard that Creed had been defeated, she had tried as hard as she possibly could to find Train and congratulate him. She had been hoping that he would let her trail along with him and his friends. But, she never found him. At that time, she had only been seventeen. She went back to school and maintained high grades until her graduation. Then, her whole world had seemed to halt.

Attending a University had no longer interested her. Becoming a sweeper had been an obsession of hers ever since she had parted ways with her dear Black Cat, but she soon found that the sweeper's life wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. At least, for her, it wasn't. She found that it was hard to keep herself from killing her targets. With her powers, it was so easy to take a human life. However, she had promised Train that she would never kill again, and she was determined to keep that promise, no matter what it took.

Then, the long line of boyfriends had started. The first had been particularly significant to her, because she had never really been noticed by guys when she had been in school. She was completely enamored, and did everything that she could have possibly done to keep her boyfriend happy. She didn't realize that she was merely trying to compensate for the growing apathy that she felt towards him. Completely convinced that a physical commitment would give her exactly what she needed to bond with him, she lost her virginity at age eighteen. Afterwards, she finally came to the realization that she was in a dead-end relationship, and she broke up with her boyfriend—determined to never make the same mistake again.

Her determination didn't last for very long. She tried over and over again to establish a healthy relationship with a man, and she failed every time. At first, she had believed that it was her fault—she had believed that there was something very wrong with her that was causing every relationship to be a failure. Then, she began blaming the men that she was with. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that men were a waste of time, and were only there to be used.

She realized that she had never really been in love with Train. He was merely an idol—someone that she had a school-girl crush on. He was definitely one of the most amazing people that she had ever met, she would never deny that, but she had merely been obsessed with him. She had never loved him. Had she even been capable of loving?

Unfortunately, the answer to that question was "yes." She had been capable of loving. And it had all blown up in her face.

The day that Sheldon had left, she had tried her hardest to put on a brave front and wear an ever-cheery smile. Apparently, it had fooled everyone. She had acted like she was perfectly happy with the chance that she had been given by Train and Chronos. But, in truth, she had felt like someone had driven a white-hot knife into her heart and had twisted it a few times. She had been crushed.

Nobody had thought that her spirit could have been broken, but it was. Every day, she had felt it crack a little more. After she had graduated from her high-school, she had found that every distraction that she had relied so heavily upon had disappeared, and she was left with nothing but the truth. She had tried so desperately to fill in the cracks with her various romantic relationships, but nothing had ever worked for her. It had taken her a long time to realize that nothing could ever work. It was all or nothing, and she constantly found herself left with nothing.

When Sheldon had decided to leave the Apostles of the Stars, she had gone with him. She had known full-well that her actions could have very well been the signature on her own death sentence, but she hadn't cared. The last thing that she had wanted was for Sheldon to be alone. She had felt that she belonged with him. Apparently, he hadn't felt the same way.

Maybe she had been too eager. Maybe she had been too childish. Or maybe she simply hadn't been strong enough. The reasons didn't really matter—the bottom line was that he had left her when she had needed him the most. Without the proper guidance, her life had fallen to pieces.

It was undeniable that she was beautiful. Having grown out considerably since she was seventeen, her silky black tresses reached down to the middle of her back. Her legs were long and shapely, and her curves had developed nicely. There wasn't a single flaw in her complexion; everything about her was properly groomed and manicured. Black, form-fitting, somewhat revealing clothes complimented her form perfectly. The only things about her that seemed out-of-place were her blood-shot violet eyes. Too much alcohol and too little sleep could do that to a person.

Paying her bar tab, she sighed and swung herself down from the stool—pausing about as she swayed, trying to regain her balance. The room swam before her eyes, but she still managed to push her way out of the rather populated bar. It was pitch-black outside, and several people stood around, talking and smoking. The stench of tobacco was nauseating, and she couldn't help but make a face and sound of disgust. It didn't go unnoticed.

Two tattooed men, who she happened to recognize as wanted criminals from the sweeper posters that she had seen, stepped over to block her way—their arms crossed and their brows furrowed menacingly. "Hey, Princess, you got a problem with something?"

Blinking in a vain effort to clear her vision, Kyoko glared up at them. "Smoking is a nasty habit. That's all."

The taller of the men snorted in mock amusement. "What are you, my mother?"

One of Kyoko's slender eyebrows quirked as she canted her head to the side—a small smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Not unless you look down your mother's shirt that way."

Shocked momentarily, the men stood there, just staring at her. Obviously, they weren't used to being talked back to—especially by short girls who seemed completely defenseless. Then, suddenly, the shorter one lunged forward and hit her on the side of the face with enough force to send her falling backwards.

As Kyoko landed on her backside, hand pressed to the side of her face, she heard collective gasps from the people around her. Apparently, they were all ready to see a fight. Guess it wouldn't be too hard to give them one. A dangerous look flickered through her eyes as she spit out the blood that the strike had drawn from her mouth. Standing up, she smiled wickedly at the two criminals—her body beginning to glow with a familiar flame. "Tsk…what a shame…it seems that you two won't be able to die of lung cancer, after all. I'm going to beat it to the punch."

But, before she could strike, she suddenly found herself in utter darkness. Her eyes widened in surprise and fear as she found herself suffocating. Everything seemed to alternate between red and black, and she found the air around her unnaturally hot and sticky. Was she dying? But…how?

Before she could find an explanation, she fainted.

—

Sheldon sat, hands folded in his lap, silently watching the girl on the bed beside him. She seemed so peaceful and content when she slept—almost as innocent as the girl that he had known four years ago. Her black hair softly framed her round face as her head laid against the white pillow, tilted slightly to the side with her lips parted slightly. Her chest rose and fell softly, and he couldn't help but notice how well she had developed over the years. She was, quite obviously, not a schoolgirl anymore.

He had been watching her from a distance for a few months. It killed him to see how she kept sinking further and further into the darkness of pointless sex and alcoholism. But, then, who was he to step in and intervene? He hadn't been a part of her life for many years, and she certainly wouldn't drop everything and return to the girl that she had used to be just because he randomly dropped back into the picture. In fact, he was nearly convinced that she hated him. It was the reason why he had never revealed himself to her.

However, standing idly by and watching her kill wasn't something that he could do. She had made a promise to Train, and he wasn't about to let her break it. Her unwillingness to shed blood was the one shred of innocence that she still hung onto. It was the one thing that kept her from fully submitting to the darkness.

It wasn't his place to save her, and he knew it. Still…he couldn't help himself. She couldn't save herself—she could hardly take care of herself. She was destroying her body and her life, and what was worse was that she didn't even care. He knew that, if she didn't change, she would be dead within the next few years. Knowing that…well, it killed him. He had done what he had thought was best for her. Obviously, he had been wrong.

I'm sorry, Kyoko. I failed you.

Sighing, he moved to stand up from the chair that he was sitting in, but stopped short—freezing when he heard her moan and shift. He knew that he should move…he knew that he should leave before Kyoko awoke and saw him sitting there. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to move from his seat. He continued to watch her intently, even forcing himself to keep from smiling when he saw her eyes flutter open. He knew that she hated him, and yet…he couldn't help but hope that she still cared about him the way that she had cared when she had left Creed and had followed him. He was hoping against all odds, but he found that he had to.

The look in Kyoko's eyes when her gaze met his was one of complete astonishment. Her mouth hung open, then closed and opened again as if she wanted to say something, but couldn't. Eventually, she managed to choke out a strangled, "Shel…don…?"

There he sat, right in front of her—dressed completely in black, but without his hat and glasses—a weak smile on his lips. "Good morning, Miss Kyoko."

Kyoko's face went completely pale, and it certainly wasn't from her hangover. Suddenly, everything made sense. The night before, he had surrounded her with his blood, causing her to faint. The mere thought would have been permanently scarring to most people, but, to Kyoko, it seemed perfectly normal. However, she didn't understand why he did what he did, and she didn't understand how he had shown up like that. He had…Sheldon had…

Suddenly flying out of the bed, she gripped him by the collar of his coat and shook him roughly—doing everything that she could to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes. "Where the hell were you? Why did you leave me like that? Tell me!"

Sheldon blinked once, somewhat taken aback, then caused his face to resume its usual blank expression. "I didn't want to put you in any danger. I still wanted to go after Chronos, and you had promised the Black Cat that you would never kill again. I couldn't take you along with me. You didn't belong with me."

Clenching her teeth, Kyoko unconsciously tightened her grip on Sheldon's coat—her knuckles turning white as her hands shook. "In other words, I was a liability."

Remaining silent, Sheldon calmly averted his gaze from hers. He wasn't going to answer her; obviously, she wouldn't understand his reasoning. She was convinced that his reasons for leaving had been entirely selfish. He had done it for her safety, but…it had hurt her so deeply. How was he going to convince her that it had all been for her own good?

Kyoko withdrew one hand from his coat collar and soundly slapped him on the side of the face. "Damn you." Her voice shook with emotions that she had to strain to control. It took all of the self-control that she possessed to keep from exploding into tears and beating the crap out of him, all at the same time. She pulled back, staring at him for a mere moment, then turned and ran out of the room—slamming the door behind her.

Sheldon winced as he heard the door slam shut. He had been a fool to hope that she would welcome him back with open arms. She had every right to react the way that she did. The most that he could do for her was to leave her alone and slip out of her life once and for all. He was even beginning to regret interfering in the first place.

Then, hearing a loud thump outside, he immediately sprang to his feet. Flinging the door open, he quickly glanced around the hall outside. His worried cerulean gaze rested on Kyoko, who was hunched over the ground—arms wrapped around her stomach as she proceeded to hurl its meager contents. Apparently, she hadn't been eating much, either.

Tears began to stream down her face as she started coughing. Sheldon immediately rushed to her side. He knew that she had too much alcohol in her system, and it was starting to take its toll. However, her stress level had undoubtedly been raised dramatically, thanks to him, and that was aggravating her condition. At first, she tried to push him away, but her shaking body was simply too weak to resist in any way, shape, or form.

Even after her stomach had been completely emptied, her body continued to dry-heave, causing her to cough even harder. Before long, blood started to fly out of her mouth. She managed to sob between strangled breaths and strained coughs. It was obvious that she was in great amounts of pain.

Incredibly alarmed, and feeling utterly helpless, Sheldon reached a gloved hand over and swept her hair out of her face. It was beginning to stick to her face due to the sweat that beaded all over her skin, and he knew that it must have been uncomfortable for her. "Kyoko…" He paused as her coughing seemed to calm a bit, then wrapped his arms around her waist—pulling her back against him. He knew that it would be pointless to talk to her; she was in so much pain, it was highly unlikely that she would even hear him. All that he could think to do was hold her as her body continued its convulsions, gently stroking her hair.

Eventually, Kyoko's body calmed down. Her breathing was labored and strangled, but she managed to regulate her body functions. She let out one more loud sob before going completely limp. She was utterly exhausted, and she had finally lost consciousness.

In the midst of her terror, she had still managed to keep herself completely clean. The only thing that wasn't clean was the carpet of the hallway. Sheldon hardly seemed to notice, though. He had more important things to deal with.

Placing one of his hands at the middle of her back, and hooking one arm under her knees, Sheldon lifted the sweat-soaked girl into his arms and carried her back into the room. He placed her gently on the bed—pausing once again to sweep her damp hair away from her face. That time, however, he did it in order to watch her instead of doing it for functionality.

After a few moments, he let out a sigh—slumping back into his chair, placing a hand against his forehead. Everything was a disaster. Kyoko hated him and would probably have liked it if he had turned up dead, yet he couldn't leave her…not when she was in such horrible condition. She needed him, whether she would admit it or not.

Pursing his lips, Sheldon stood from his chair, looking rather determined. He walked towards the door, picking up his hat and glasses on the way. They had served him well for many years, so he had continued to stick with his traditional wardrobe.

Hand on the doorknob, he paused for a moment to glance back at Kyoko one last time, then donned his hat and disappeared through the door.

Perhaps, in time, she would learn to forgive him.