Disclaimer: I don't own Black Cat.

Chapter Twenty-One: Vir

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Train had to admit that after two weeks and two days of Lin "resting" (i.e. freeloading) at his apartment, he was getting a little annoyed with the kid.

Of course, it didn't help that Train was starting to grow edgy due to the lack of Missions. It felt odd to not be going somewhere, doing something.

He was beginning to almost rethink his plan to sort things out in a month.

His hands still felt dirty, no matter how many times he washed them or how many ice cream cones he bought Lin. It didn't matter—no matter how many times he made Lin laugh, or the way Lin listened intently to his words of advice regarding fighting ("the solar plexus is the best place to stun someone"), Train still heard the screams invading his thoughts.

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"Mr. Heartnet?" Lin asked as Train slowly opened his eyes to the boy's worried expression. "Are you feeling all right?"

Train halted in mid-nod. "On second thought…I have a question to ask you, Lin."

"Yes?"

"Why do you think people kill?"

He noted Lin's stiff posture as he sat down beside him on the rooftop. It was a surprisingly warm afternoon for early April, all things considered. There were a few small off-white clouds in the sky, but Train didn't really register them.

"I suppose…" Lin frowned and bit his lip, staring off into the distance. "I suppose they kill because they think it's the right thing to do."

"'The right thing to do'? Really?" Train stared at Lin in surprise, wondering how such a mellow boy came to such an…adult conclusion.

Lin's chuckle was as sour as a salt-covered lemon. "Train, I have seen children murder their own parents because of someone's well-planned speech. If you felt you could erase all evil from the world, would you do it?"

Train felt a pang in his heart. "Yeah," he said softly. "Yeah, I would."

Lin smiled grimly. "There, you see?"

Train frowned. "But that still doesn't explain the other reasons people kill, Lin."

Lin shrugged. "Different personalities mean different reasons for doing things. I don't know, Mr. Heartnet—we humans are a varied species, you know that."

"I guess you're right…"

They sat in silence for a few moments, the honking cars and chattering civilians below somehow growing faint and almost non-existent.

Train stared at Lin's delicate form made even more slender by the baggy blue shirt and black pants he wore. He couldn't help but wonder what puberty would do to the boy—he seemed more worldly than even Train had been at the age of eleven. What would such a cynical boy become in the end?

Train hoped that at the very least Lin would know right from wrong—so at least someone would know.

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The next morning Train awoke to the sound of silence in his small apartment.

He couldn't see Lin anywhere. There was no soft humming out on the rooftop, no soft walking across the concrete floor, and no cheerful awakening by a pair of eager blue eyes.

Train rubbed his eyes and crawled out of bed, glancing around him. Even the numerous books he had bought Lin of magicians and magic tricks (apparently Lin's favorite reads) were gone.

Suddenly Train noticed several pieces of worn notebook paper by his bed addressed to "Trane" in very messy script. He picked them up and read them slowly in order—the handwriting and spelling were almost as bad as his, though the actual content was more formal than usual for Lin. Finally he managed to translate it:

Dear Mr. Trane (I can't spell your last name, sorry)

Thank you for taking care of me. Sorry if I was leeching off you for a while, but I wasn't used to such kind words. I brought everything you gave me with me, so that I could treasure them.

Thank you for teaching me how to protect myself. I'll practice every day (by myself, of course) so that you won't have to save me again. I don't think your bank account would be able to handle that!

And thank you for taking me to see that traveling circus a few days ago. You have no idea how amazing it was to see a real live magician perform magic tricks in front of me! The way he moved so quickly and the way he…I think the word is "flourished", but I'm not sure. Anyway, it still makes me smile when I think about the way he produced all those doves from his sleeves, making everyone laugh and clap. Even you were amazed, Mr. Trane, don't deny it.

But the crowning moment was when you urged me to volunteer when the magician was asking around. To be able to stand in front of so many people and help a great entertainer perform was my biggest wish coming true!

Again, thank you, Mr. Trane, with all my heart.

Now for my Unneeded Musings.

I noticed that you seem very lonely and confused, even though it's obvious my being around has given you something else to focus on. Death and killing is not a rare thing in this world, Trane. People die. It happens. People sell each other out for money. People are greedy and charitable all at once.

To be completely blunt, Mr. Trane, people are the weirdest creatures you will ever come across. Especially nice people like you.

You've been very good to me, Mr. Trane, and I'm grateful. But remember that not all beggars are in TRUE need of help.

You are a gruff but kind person, Mr. Trane, and people WILL use that against you. Someday you could find yourself cheated of everything you hold dear.

I know that you have a friend who is more than willing to keep you safe. Mr. Trane, I know that you think that you don't need companions; that you're a monster, but think about it. If even ONE person decides to talk to you and be your friend, doesn't that mean something?

Personally, I think a thank-you is in order.

There is safety in numbers. You probably know that already, but I hope you don't mind my repeating it. That is why I'm going to find an orphanage and see if I can be adopted. If not, then at least I will have a place to stay with others my age.

In truth, Mr. Trane, I would like you to forget about me for awhile. I will be able to take care of myself—you've made sure of that.

Perhaps we'll see each other again. If we do, I would like it very much if we were able to fight on the same side. Who knows, maybe I'll even beat you in a fight someday!

All the best,

Lin Shaoli

P.S. Really, you should burn this after you read it—if you can. I don't want any traces of my horrid writing.

Train stared at the letter for a few moments before tearing it in half and crumpling and tearing it into nothingness. He figured he could do at least that much for Lin.

He peered out the window to see if Lin had already left. Dimly he saw a black-haired boy trotting off down a street, a slight spring in his step.

"Well, at least I made someone happy…" Train told himself as he decided to enjoy life on the rooftop again for a while, as he thought things through.