The Black Coat

He really needed to throw it out. He should've thrown it out years ago. He didn't even know why he still had this thing. The old, black fabric was nearly shredded and disgusting. It was ripped and torn, covered in his own blood, courtesy of Creed Diskenth.

Train had absolutely no reason to hold on to his old uniform. Unlike Hades which he had also held onto for all these years, It was neither useful nor important, he never liked it, the only reason he wore it in the first place was to keep from getting blood on his clothes so he could get a bite to eat after work without having to walk around looking like a serial killer. (Which he kinda was.)

He should've thrown out that old coat when he left Chronos. He didn't need another reminder or souvenir of his unfortunate history; Hades and the thirteen that stained his chest were more than enough.

Why had he, who claimed the past was behind him, held onto a relic for all these years, of his bloody past that he would rather die then repeat? Train let his mind drift back to Lunafort Tower.

It was because of Creed that he still held on. It was all supposed to end with Creed. The killing, the hiding, after Creed it would all be done. After he finished Creed, Train had vowed to stop for good. He would never kill again. He was going to move on and forget Saya, just like she wanted him to. He would get rid of that black coat maybe even Hades, the heavy burdens of his past that drags him down. After all what was the point of stopping when his best friend murderer still lived? He promised he'd stop when Creed was dead.

Yeah, right. He would never move on because he couldn't stop. He couldn't stand it, as long as Creed lived. So he held onto the burden of his past for two long years.

When he finally had a chance to face Creed, he failed. He practically got his ass kicked. He had been prepared to sacrifice everything even his own life. The missing right sleeve was proof of that.

He should've thrown it out then. It was completely destroyed after the battle. He could no longer wear it. Instead he had thrown it back in the back of his closet and fell asleep on the couch from blood loss. Who could blame him? Although he got his arm back, he'd still loss a ton of blood.

Train had absolutely no reason to hold onto this he thought as he held the coat. Bloody slices covered it, it was missing a sleeve, it was old, dusty and dirty. He needed to throw this out; it was more than 2 years overdue.

Suddenly the door to his room flew open "TRAIN ARE YOU DONE YET!" Sven screamed. Train turned towards the door. His mind snapped back to reality. Oh yeah. He was supposed to be cleaning his room. Sven notice Train holding the coat. "…I'll um …give you a couple more minutes" Sven said quietly.
"Nah, it's okay" Train replied, "I'm done." He picked up the coat and tossed it back into the closet. He'd get back to it later. (No, he won't.)