Disclaimer; I don't own Black Cat, if I did... Leon & Sven would've been the main characters :P

A/N this's my first Black Cat fic. Really my first fan-fic ever. It's based on the manga- which I haven't finished yet, so... there might be some things in here that are contradicted by the manga, but I hope not.

Either ways, please enjoy, con-crit is welcomed, and reviews are loved muchly. Also, I'm still not sure if it's going to be just a one-shot or not. I enjoyed writing it, so it's hard to know :)

Enjoy.

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Her opponent is tough, but she doesn't think he came to fight. The first time they fought, it had taken everything she had to beat him. That time, he had given all he had too. But both then, and now, he is at a disadvantage. While she is confident in herself, her strengths and her abilities, but mostly in what she is fighting for, he is not. His foundation is weak. He has no place to stand.

Which is ironic, really. Because his Tao power is the manipulation of Wind, Air. She think's he is very much like air, and she is like earth, or maybe even water. She is steady and strong, constantly, she owes this to her training, and the ones who raised her. Without them, she would not be as strong as she was today. Without her desire to be strong enough to protect Sven and defeat Train, she perhaps would not have pushed herself so far.

Whereas, her opponent is unstable, prone to change and doubt. And has had no one to push him forwards, no one to make him want to be stronger. The first time, at least, he was more stable. This time, she can see it in his eyes, his stance- he doesn't know where he stands anymore. She hopes he knows at least that he kept his promise, and she is almost proud of him.

He came to her. He sought her out, but she can see now, by the way his grip tightens on his board and his pupil's shrink slightly that he wants to run.

"Leon." She speaks his name, knowing very well that that might be what breaks him. His whole body twitches at the sound, but he doesn't run. So she turns to face him full on, and stands- she realises too late- that like a wild animal, her movement has broken his resolve, and he almost trips over his feet he moves so quickly. So desperate for escape that he becomes clumsy and frantic. If he was used to desperation and fear, she thinks he would have a better chance of escape. But there are few emotions he knows as well as anger.

He drops his board, placing a foot on it, and a wind picks up- but she can't let him go. If it had been a month earlier, or later, she thinks she would have let him go. But there's a look in his eyes that she can't understand- but she knows she can't let him run.

"Leon!" She steps forward, reaching for him- he's not that far away, another three metres, and she'd have him. He cuts a look over his shoulder, now almost too frantic in his bid to escape to control the wind. She can't let him take off. When they fought, it was different, because he had to stay relatively close to be able to attack. But this time, here, in the mid-afternoon sun, without battle keeping him close, she knows she'll lose him if he takes off.

The wind picks up, and whips his hair and clothes about- circling him, and as she gets closer, the wind catches her hair and her clothes. "Leon!" She calls his name again, trying to get used to the sound of his name on her tongue. His shoulders hunch- and the board rises, she can see the tension leaving his shoulders, because he think's he's safe now.

And for a second, he's right. He's up, above her- but her hair has only grown in the years since their first fight, and her ability to control her transformations has only improved. Even then, it's close. But the fist made up of her hair wraps around his ankle.

He looks down at the hair wrapped around his ankle then he looks at her face- the expression is desperate, all but screaming for escape. And suddenly she decides he's like a small, wounded bird in the hands of a child- but infinitely more fragile.

And then she's pulled him back down to the ground- harder than she meant to, bearing in mind she had just decided he was fragile. He lands hard, his board beside him. Her hair withdraws, and she moves closer.

"Hey, Leon." She begins to try and strike up a conversation, but he's back up on his feet, grabbing his board again. "Hey!" This time, she's through messing around. He came to her, after all. As long as she keeps him grounded, the advantage is definitely hers. It wouldn't work if they were fighting, but they're not, exactly, fighting. He's fighting for freedom and she…. She isn't sure what she's fighting for.

But she's won. Her hair is wrapped around his upper body and a slim tree, his hands are pinned to his sides, and he's not even struggling.

"Leon." She says it again, but he doesn't look at her. His eyes are closed, and his head is angled to the ground.

"Let me go, Eve." He finally speaks, and his voice has changed. It's rougher, more pained than it was, years ago.

"I can't." She has said it before she even realised she was going to respond.

"Why?"

"Because, you came to me." She walks closer, and instead of the loose hair turning back to it's former shape, it wraps further around him, she didn't intend to do it, but when he suddenly lets out a yell and the wind picks up around them, she's glad she did. "You came to me, Leon!" She yells over the wind, he's trying to scare her away. If he wanted to hurt her, he could at least try. But he's not, he's just trying to scare her into releasing him. But she doesn't scare easily, and even if she did, she's not scared of him.

The wind dies down, and he slumps forward, sounding almost like he's choking.

"Why'd you come?" She asks again, less than a metre from him now.

"Because… because I thought you could help me."

She frowns, his honesty taking her off guard. She releases him, and expects him to take to the sky. But he doesn't, he grits his teeth, closes his eyes briefly, then meets her gaze dead on.

"I thought you could help me." He repeats it as if she could miss something like that the first time. She wonders why he said it twice, then notices' his fists are clenched, and his chest is lurching.

"But then you tried to run?" She's making him squirm, and feels bad for it, but she's not doing it on purpose.

"Yeah."

They fall into a silence then, and he's averted his gaze again. But she believes he found some ground for a few seconds there. So there is hope for him, yet.

"Little Princess!"

Eve spins around, and Leon looks up, eyes wide and that wild, frantic look back in them. Out of the corner of her eye, she see's his right hand extend out, and his board lifts from the ground.

"Little Princess?" Train's voice is closer and she's cursing his bad timing.

She's turning back to Leon, reaching to grab him, but he's already moved from behind her, and he's out of her reach. "Hey!" She yells. "Leon!" He's in the air, now. "I won't let you fall apart!"

Then, he's gone. And she doesn't know if he got the message, or even if he understood.

"Hey, Little Princess. Who were you talking to?"

-

It's months before she see's him again. And this time, he doesn't see her. She's out with Sven and Train when she spots him. He's just a lone figure in the crowd, but she recognises him. Telling Sven and Train she's going to hit the library, she follows Leon.

She's waiting for an opportunity to speak to him, to grab his attention when he enters a hotel, or an apartment block, she can't tell. Her attention was fixed solely on him. She follows a good distance away from him, taking the stairs while he takes the elevator. It's tiring, because she has to be so quiet and check every floor, but it's worth it.

She catches sight of the tail-end of his board as he enters into one of the rooms, or apartments. She still doesn't know. Using her hair, she manages to catch the door before the lock catches, and after a moment of hesitation, she steps inside, closing the door behind her.

Here, he can't run. The windows are small, she's noticed that much, and he would have to open them first. And Train isn't around to interrupt.

He spins, hearing the door close and the lock catch a few seconds later than it should, and she wonders if he's paranoid, if he listens to the lock catch every time he enters the room. She see's the colour drain from his face, he drops his board, and his breath escapes him sharply.

"Hey." She smiles, her back against the door. He turns, looking at the windows- but he already knows as well as she does, he'll never make it. "Leon."

"…what?"

"I'm here to help you." She smiles, and for some reason, it seems to destroy him. "I told you, I wouldn't let you fall apart, last time we met. Well, I'm here to keep that promise."

His breath is a hiss, and then he's biting his lip. She notices then his bottom lip is dry, puckered and scarred, as if he bites it a lot.

"You don't owe me anything." He says it flatly, then goes back to biting his lip, and he either hasn't noticed, or he's ignoring the bleeding. He's older now, but he's more like a lost child now than he ever was then. The clenching of the fists, the biting of the lip. She wonders if he realises that he's more of a child now, and she decides that he's fully aware of that, and just afraid to grow up and become what he despises.

She doesn't say anything in response, but she takes a step forward. He mirror's her and takes a step back.

"How come you didn't go home?"

"I don't have a home."

"Why… what about friends? Family?"

He laughs, but the sound is bitter. While he's distracted slightly, she takes another quick step forward- but her effort is wasted, because he's out of room. His back hits the wall, and he looks from side to side, but he's broken. She doesn't know why he's broken, or when it happened exactly, but it's there in his eyes and his stance and his face.

"I want to help."

"This has nothing to do with you." He snaps back straight away.

"If you thought that, you wouldn't have come to me, right?"

"It's not that simple!" His voice breaks. "If… if – it's your fault! If I'd just stayed with the Apostle's-"

"Then maybe you'd be dead." She pauses. "Besides, you didn't have to keep your promise. Don't blame me for that. You're the one who was too honourable to break your word."

He laughs bitterly again. She's got him now, she realises that in the way he goes to run a hand through his hair, but drops his arm and presses it against the wall. He's a man, now, become what he most despises. But all she can see is the boy inside him and his weakness. "I'd rather be dead."

The next thing she registers is that her arms are about him, her face is buried in his chest, his arms are coming up, searching for comfort- or maybe just some ground to stand on, his face is suddenly at her neck, between her shoulder and head and- she has no idea who reached for who first, but she thinks it was her.

But, she can live with that, because he reached out to her, months ago. She was just reaching back today.

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