Wind and Sand
You wanted to save them all. You wanted to save both the butterfly and the spider. Isn't that a contradiction? The spider would kill the butterfly if left to its own devices or the spider would starve for lack of prey. Life is such a paradox. Each choice leading to more suffering. It is impossible to make a choice that leads to no suffering. Or is it?
These thoughts and others like them, consumed Knives' unconscious mind. For the first time, Vash's compassion and mercy had bested Knives. That fact argued itself in Knives' dreaming mind. Over and over again, Knives could see Vash fire his gun, could feel the bullets tear his skin, and could hear Vash speaking words of mercy.
And, from one of these dreams, Knives regained consciousness. It was morning, and all around him were the trappings of humanity. Chairs, a table, a stove and the bed upon which he was lying. Knives knew immediately where Vash had brought him. Not that it surprised Knives in the slightest. Vash was ultimately predictable.
Knives felt an urge to get up, to flee, to fight. To do anything but simply lay there. But that is what he did. For one, the pain was not entirely gone. Knives found that when he breathed hard, there were sharp pains running up his back. Some broken ribs obviously. But there was another reason. Vash.
The door at the far end of the room opened and Vash walked through. "So, you're awake Knives."
Knives grinned slightly and sat up. "Do you always have to point out the obvious Vash?"
"How do you feel?" Vash asked, completely ignoring Knives sarcasm.
"How do you think I feel? You shot me after all." Knives stretched. "Actually, the pain is almost gone. How long have I been out?"
"Ten days." Vash sighed. "I was hoping for more."
Knives smiled in earnest. "I bet you were." This time Knives stood up, unconcerned that he was completely naked. He stared into Vash's eyes and asked, "What happens now brother? Do we fight or do we make peace?"
Vash merely responded, "That depends on you Knives. I don't want to fight you, but what I want is irrelevant. I will do what I must."
Knives stared long and hard at his brother. This strong, mature man was not the same child Knives had encountered at July. There was something more, something grim, yet glad. Vash had grown beyond Knives imagination. And then, Knives' heart changed, or at least he now understood it. "I don't want to fight you. But I don't know any other way."
Vash turned his gaze towards the sun, coming through the east window. "I didn't know any other way besides Rem's way. But I see now that Rem was wrong in a way." Knives was astounded to hear this coming from Vash's lips. "Rem's idealism I find admirable, and I will always try to follow it. But, there are exceptions to every rule. Some few things that live, must not live to preserve life for others."
Knives bit his mouth and gritted his teeth. He had long wished that Vash would think on his own and leave Rem behind. But maybe this was never about Rem. Maybe it had never been about the humans. "Vash, I was also wrong." Vash and Knives locked eyes again. "The humans aren't the problem. They are cruel, malicious and petty creatures sometimes. And I've been like them. I am what I hate."
Knives turned his eyes to the east window. "Where are we going Vash?" Vash turned to leave, but not before noticing real tears on Knives' cheek. "I have no idea." And with that Vash left, shutting the door softly behind him.
They were once twins, born of the same stuff. They once shared each other's hopes and dreams. Now, all that is gone. Now, they are brothers. Alike and not alike. Changed forever by the sand and wind.
You wanted to save them all. You wanted to save both the butterfly and the spider. Isn't that a contradiction? The spider would kill the butterfly if left to its own devices or the spider would starve for lack of prey. Life is such a paradox. Each choice leading to more suffering. It is impossible to make a choice that leads to no suffering. Or is it?
These thoughts and others like them, consumed Knives' unconscious mind. For the first time, Vash's compassion and mercy had bested Knives. That fact argued itself in Knives' dreaming mind. Over and over again, Knives could see Vash fire his gun, could feel the bullets tear his skin, and could hear Vash speaking words of mercy.
And, from one of these dreams, Knives regained consciousness. It was morning, and all around him were the trappings of humanity. Chairs, a table, a stove and the bed upon which he was lying. Knives knew immediately where Vash had brought him. Not that it surprised Knives in the slightest. Vash was ultimately predictable.
Knives felt an urge to get up, to flee, to fight. To do anything but simply lay there. But that is what he did. For one, the pain was not entirely gone. Knives found that when he breathed hard, there were sharp pains running up his back. Some broken ribs obviously. But there was another reason. Vash.
The door at the far end of the room opened and Vash walked through. "So, you're awake Knives."
Knives grinned slightly and sat up. "Do you always have to point out the obvious Vash?"
"How do you feel?" Vash asked, completely ignoring Knives sarcasm.
"How do you think I feel? You shot me after all." Knives stretched. "Actually, the pain is almost gone. How long have I been out?"
"Ten days." Vash sighed. "I was hoping for more."
Knives smiled in earnest. "I bet you were." This time Knives stood up, unconcerned that he was completely naked. He stared into Vash's eyes and asked, "What happens now brother? Do we fight or do we make peace?"
Vash merely responded, "That depends on you Knives. I don't want to fight you, but what I want is irrelevant. I will do what I must."
Knives stared long and hard at his brother. This strong, mature man was not the same child Knives had encountered at July. There was something more, something grim, yet glad. Vash had grown beyond Knives imagination. And then, Knives' heart changed, or at least he now understood it. "I don't want to fight you. But I don't know any other way."
Vash turned his gaze towards the sun, coming through the east window. "I didn't know any other way besides Rem's way. But I see now that Rem was wrong in a way." Knives was astounded to hear this coming from Vash's lips. "Rem's idealism I find admirable, and I will always try to follow it. But, there are exceptions to every rule. Some few things that live, must not live to preserve life for others."
Knives bit his mouth and gritted his teeth. He had long wished that Vash would think on his own and leave Rem behind. But maybe this was never about Rem. Maybe it had never been about the humans. "Vash, I was also wrong." Vash and Knives locked eyes again. "The humans aren't the problem. They are cruel, malicious and petty creatures sometimes. And I've been like them. I am what I hate."
Knives turned his eyes to the east window. "Where are we going Vash?" Vash turned to leave, but not before noticing real tears on Knives' cheek. "I have no idea." And with that Vash left, shutting the door softly behind him.
They were once twins, born of the same stuff. They once shared each other's hopes and dreams. Now, all that is gone. Now, they are brothers. Alike and not alike. Changed forever by the sand and wind.