Disclaimer: Trigun doesn't belong to me. . .yadda yadda yadda. . .and all that cheese. The men belong to me only in my wildest fantasies, and, for the next few minutes of your life, to this fanfic. Okay, so maybe they don't, but still. . . I actually put some effort into this one, so enjoy.
It was eight o'clock. The last of the
double suns had just set below the horizon, and the air was already beginning
to cool. The small clay house which sheltered them was no shelter
from the cold, and Meryl knew it. It wouldn't be long before she
would have to bundle up. She didn't handle cold extremely well.
The children were all nestled serenely in
their beds. She watched them for one more moment before she left
the room. The blonde she'd been comforting just a few minutes earlier
had finally quieted down. For the life of her, she couldn't understand
why he'd suddenly been seized with such a terrible nightmare, intense enough
that it would make him cry in his sleep. And all the other children
seemed more happy than ever tonight. After all, they'd had a good
meal, and some more adult company for the day. He should have been
just as happy as his friends.
But something had obviously upset him.
Maybe she'd never know what it was. . .but it didn't feel right, for some
reason.
"Ready to turn in, ma'am?"
Meryl looked up, and saw the smiling face
of her best friend. Her smile never held the utterly bizarre goofiness
that one particular blonde airhead's expressions did, but they always managed
to look sincere, even though Meryl knew all too well that her friend was
not always as deliriously happy as she let on.
"I think so." She replied, looking back
in the room once more, then giving a long sigh, and joining her friend
in the hallway. "I feel almost tempted to stay with them."
She admitted, glancing briefly back again. Of course, everything
was the same as before. No manic gunslingers had come and taken any
of them away.
At least not at the moment.
"Don't be silly, ma'am." Milly put a
hand on her shoulder, still retaining that wonderful smile. "There's
plenty of room in the kitchen for us to sleep. Especially since the
men decided to take the hall."
Meryl blinked. "They gave up the kitchen? I was sure
Vash would. . ." she stammered, "I mean, with the leftovers from
dinner right there on the counter-"
"They both insisted." Milly said.
"Isn't that nice?"
"Y-yes." Meryl admitted somewhat ruefully,
then clenched her fist and added in a low tone, "though I suppose broom
boy already cleaned out all of the leftover donuts before they gave up
the room."
Milly laughed. "There weren't any leftovers,
ma'am, remember?" She suddenly snapped her fingers. "Oh, almost
forgot. Mr. Priest told me that he had some kind of activity planned
for tonight. He said we should come to the table right after we'd
finished putting the kids to sleep."
"'Activity'?" Meryl turned down a corner
of her mouth. "That doesn't sound too promising."
"He said it would be fun!" Milly clapped
her hands together. "And it's only eight. We don't have much
to do until bed-time anyway." She blinked expectantly at Meryl.
"Don't you want to know what he has planned?"
"No."
"Aw, c'mon ma'am!" Milly grabbed Meryl's
arm and pulled her down the hallway, Meryl resisting all the way.
"Let's have a little fun!"
Meryl tried to wrench her friend's grip from
her arm, but to no avail. "Nothing. . ." she grunted, ". . .fun.
. .ever. . ." she tried to push away with her white-booted heel, ". . .came.
. .from that. . .man."
"Good evening, ladies."
Meryl turned towards the direction of the
speaker. Sitting at the table, actually on the table, she
corrected herself, with one leg up on his knee and a bottle of some kind
of liquor in his right hand, was the man himself. Black, unkempt
hair, shaded blue eyes, a somewhat wrinkled black suit, and a long burnt
out cigarette butt dangling from his lips. Certainly not the image
befitting a priest, but there he was.
And of course, next to him, straddling a chair,
long elbows and legs looking ridiculously awkward as he rested his head
on his hands folded on the front of the chair, was the spiky-headed, googly-eyed,
pathetic, womanizing, donut-scarfing fophead who had plagued her life for
nearly the past half year, dragged her halfway across the planet, embarrassed
her at every turn, and amazed her to no end with his strange, bewildering
brilliance. . . . .
"Mr. Vash!" Milly's face lit up.
Meryl couldn't believe it could have gotten any more perky than it had
been a moment ago, but Milly, once again, surprised her. "I didn't
know you were going to play, too!" She continued, then adopted a
confused look and scratched her head. "But. . .come to think of it,
I don't really know what we're playing, anyway."
"Y-you dragged me in here and you don't even
know what this hypocritical maniac has planned?" Meryl glared at
her friend. "Where is your sense?"
Vash laughed, bringing his head up and grinning
at the two of them. God, how she hated that damn smile. "What
are you worried about?" He asked. "He's a priest, remember?
He couldn't pull anything on you. . .he'd have to repent his sins in his
confessional."
"Are you implying I don't repent, mophead?"
Wolfwood demanded angrily.
"You wouldn't have the change to pay for it."
Vash replied with the same grin he'd been wearing since the beginning of
the conversation.
"Oh, no," Milly put a hand to her chin,
"were you two gambling again?"
"He cheated!" The black-haired priest
insisted. "There was no way he had three catfish! I SAW his
hand! He only had one! He tricked me into thinking that those
two trout were-"
"ENOUGH!" Meryl got in between the two
of them. Vash was still grinning like an idiot, but Wolfwood looked
like he was on the edge of whipping out his rocket launcher. She
turned to him first. "You just admit that you lost fair and square,
and be a good loser. No blowing up things." Then she turned
to Vash. Still grinning, of course. "And you wipe that annoying
smirk off of your face before I shove one of my derringers up you're a-"
"Um, Mr. Priest, what was this game you had
planned?" Milly interrupted.
Almost reluctantly, it seemed, Wolfwood got
back on the subject. "It's a drinking game." He said.
"Are you crazy?!" Meryl exploded before Milly
could do a happy dance. "Alcohol? Game? VASH?!
Do you not see the possible problems those combined elements could
have?"
"It's not dangerous." Wolfwood insisted.
"At least not that much." He added with a grin.
"Oh, that sounds reassuring." Meryl
crossed her arms over her chest.
Wolfwood placed a hand on her shoulder.
"That's why we need you here to overlook everything." He smiled.
"After all, I'm sure you won't be getting drunk in this game."
Curious, Meryl quirked an eyebrow. "What
do you mean?" She asked. She at least needed to know whether
that had been an insult or a compliment. "What's this 'drinking game'
about?"
"It's simple." Wolfwood leaned back
against the table. "We sit in a circle, and one by one, we say things
we've never done in our life. Y'know. . .anything weird that you
can think of. Then, anyone who has done what you've said has to drink.
I'm sure you won't have to drink for most of the questions."
Meryl narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't
like the sound of this, or what you were implying about me through that
last comment, but. . ." she put her hands on her hips, ". . .you're
going to play this with or without me, aren't you?" Wolfwood, Milly
and Vash all nodded, and she sighed. "Fine." She agreed, and
Milly clapped her hands together happily. "But, I want to make it
very clear that I oppose this on all fronts, and if things get out of line.
. ." she tapped the back of her cloak, "don't think I won't use preventative
measures to assure no one is hurt." She glared meaningfully at
Vash. "Even if someone gets a new scar in the process."
"Understood." Wolfwood put his hand
up. "I swear by the Bible and all the goodness and stuff that it
stands for that I will not get in your way if you have to discipline someone."
"'Goodness and stuff'?" Milly blinked.
"Let's sit down." Wolfwood pushed the
large table out of the way, and Vash got out of his seat, walking over
to the cleared area where they'd begun to sit down. Meryl noticed,
with a bit of apprehension, that he'd chosen to sit next to her.
He just doesn't want to sit next to Milly,
she
told herself. He knows how wild she gets when she's not sober.
But for some reason, that fabricated explanation
actually made her feel worse.
Wolfwood passed out four bottles, one to each
of them. Meryl didn't even care what she got. After all, like
Wolfwood had said, she wouldn't be drinking much of it, anyway. As
much as she hated the fact that he considered her a 'stiff' of sorts, it
still felt good to know she would be the control of the group.
"We'll probably go through more than one bottle
each," he looked meaningfully at Vash, "so I made sure we had some more
in stock." He patted a crate behind him.
"So," Milly glanced at her bottle, "we can
only drink when we've done something that someone's said?"
"You can have some now, if you want, Milly."
Wolfwood smiled. Milly happily opened hers and began to dig in.
"Try not to get drunk before the game starts,
though." Wolfwood added with a sigh, then looked back at Vash and
Meryl. "Any questions?"
"How much should we drink if we have to?"
Vash asked, raising his hand.
Wolfwood shrugged. "Depends on how well
you fit the answer. Drink a little, drink a lot. It's up to
you. But, say someone says. . .oh, I don't know. . .'I've never eaten
a donut.'" He suddenly grimaced. "Come to think of it, maybe
you should just drink the same amount every time."
"Let's get started!" Milly said impatiently
from beside Wolfwood, flicking her eyes longingly at the opened bottle
in front of her.
"One more thing!" Vash interrupted.
"A resquest, actually." His expression became serious, and Meryl
suddenly wondered if he had actually gathered some sense about him and
was really going to stand against this whole idea.
But, once again, he disappointed her.
Utterly.
"Can we please not have any sex-related questions?"
He pleaded. "Please? I don't want to be completely plotzed
tomorrow."
Meryl's trigger finger was itching already.
Wolfwood was chosen as the one to start off the game,
since he'd, after all, been the one who'd proposed the idea, and it only
made natural sense for him to give the first example.
He was grinning already. Meryl knew
he'd probably been planning his first question for awhile. She wondered,
idly, what in the world he could ask that would induce such a wicked smile
over his features. Whatever it was, she was sure she wasn't
going to drink to it.
"Here goes," Wolfwood cleared his throat,
quite officiously. "I've never stripped naked and barked like a dog
for an audience of gun-toting criminals."
"Ugh." Meryl's head dropped apathetically.
"I was expecting something intelligent from your end at least, Mr. Priest."
She sighed, looking back up. "Do you honestly think any of us-"
"DAMN YOU!" Vash suddenly wailed, interrupting
her, and snatching up his glass. He forced down a quick gulp before
slamming the glass down on the floor again and continuing to glare daggers
at the currently grinning Wolfwood. "You made this whole thing up
just to do that to me, didn't you?! That's not fair! It was
for a worthy cause!"
Milly had fallen to the floor in a heap, seized
with what looked to be life-threatening giggles. Meryl was too aghast
to say a thing.
"MY TURN!" Vash yelled, pointedly yelling
in Wolfwood's direction. "I've never dressed in womens' clothing
and danced for a pack of cigarettes!"
Wolfwood's grin became an expression of rage.
If he'd had his cross around, he probably would have thrown it. "You
promised you'd never tell anyone about that!" He cursed madly and
dove for his drink. Unlike Vash, though, he didn't bother to grab
his glass. Instead, he roughly took the entire bottle and gulped
from it.
Milly looked like she was about to die from
laughter.
Meryl was seconds from passing out.
And they were only on the second turn.
"My turn! My turn!" Milly suddenly
shouted between giggles, interrupting a two-way glare between the men.
For once, Meryl was glad for the interruption.
Milly stifled another laugh before she started
her turn. "I've never been beaten up by a girl."
Both Vash and Wolfwood reluctantly reached
for their drinks.
"Mr. Priest?" Milly blinked. "You,
too?"
The black-haired priest dropped his glass
from his lips thoughtfully. Then he gave a weak smile. "Just
a word to the wise. Never assume you'll win an arm-wrestling match
with a 400 pound woman just because she's a woman. Especially if
she's a bartender, and you're drunk."
Vash looked hurt. "You didn't ask me
a thing. Did you just assume-"
"You forget that we've seen you shot down,
sometimes forcefully so, by a great amount of women already." Meryl
muttered, then turned an angry eye on him. "Maybe if you didn't womanize
so much, you wouldn't have those problems."
"Ah." Vash sat back sullenly.
"Point taken."
The room was silent for the next few moments.
Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.
"Ma'am?" Milly looked expectantly at
her friend. "It's your turn."
Meryl blinked in surprise. "I didn't
know we had to go."
"Well, you don't have to," Wolfwood
said, "but-"
"Alright, alright." Meryl sighed, thinking.
If she was going to say anything, she should at least make it count.
Take out more than one bird with her stone. Preferrably all of them,
if she could. In a few moments, she had an idea.
"I've never been drunk." She said, a
small hint of triumph on her face as everyone else in the room simultaneously
groaned and reached for their drinks. She smiled victoriously.
Maybe this game wasn't such a bad idea after
all.
Five turns, and about seven drinks later, Vash
and Milly were not faring well. And Milly had only had to drink twice.
She'd taken hearty portions, though.
So far, other than during his own turns, Vash
had drunk to everything.
And it was currently Meryl's turn again, which
did not bode well for him.
Or for anyone else, for that matter.
"I've never gotten my tongue stuck to an ice
cube."
Wolfwood cursed, took a gulp of his drink
along with everyone else, and sat back against the table, looking somewhat
angry. Somehow, Meryl seemed to simply know when all of them had
done something she hadn't. But that was an utterly bizarre coincidence.
It was a mystery to him how she'd pulled it off.
It was his turn again.
"Hmmm. . ." he searched the room, considering
his options. He had about a thousand and one things he could peg
Mr. Porcupine head with, but he'd save them for later on, when Vash was
already drunk, so that the fool would openly spill all the embarrassing
details about his idiotic exploits. For now, he had a better idea.
"I've never faked a pregnancy." He said.
Milly blushed slightly and took her glass.
Meryl gave her a bemused expression.
Vash raised his hands and gave a triumphant
shout of glee. "I'm CLEAN!" He streamed happy tears.
"I should certainly hope you are." Wolfwood
muttered. "Otherwise I'd begin to worry."
"Aren't you happy, Mr. Vash?" Milly
smiled. "You didn't have to drink to every question after all!"
"Now you're just rubbing it in." Vash
grumbled.
"It's your turn, Mr. Vash." Milly said,
still smiling.
Vash sat back in contemplation for a moment
before speaking. "I've never had fantasies about a close friend."
He finally said.
"Good for you, Mr. Vash!" Milly congratulated
him. . .before grabbing her drink and taking a long swig.
Wolfwood did, too. "How did you
manage that one?" he muttered afterwards.
Vash shrugged. "I've almost never had
friends that stuck around me long enough."
"Easy to believe. . .with all the collateral
damage you inflict on your acquaintances." Wolfwood laughed.
Meryl wasn't listening. She was too
preoccupied trying not to swallow her tongue. The moment the words
had come out of the spiky-headed blonde's mouth, she'd frozen up.
She couldn't drink to this one. . .she just couldn't. There
had to be a way around it. . . .
Well, he'd said 'fantasies'. He hadn't
said anything about dreams. So they didn't count. That was
that.
And besides which, it wasn't like he was a
'close' friend. He'd just saved her life a few times. That
was all.
It didn't count.
It did not count.
"I've never eaten a lizard before!"
Milly suddenly said.
And Vash was right back to drinking again.
"Hey, gimme a break!" Vash insisted
when Milly and the priest started laughing again. "I was hungry,
and it wasn't like there was anything else around to eat. . . ."
Wolfwood put a hand on his shoulder.
"If it makes you feel any better, I've eaten shoe leather." He chuckled.
"Those desert trips can be a bitch sometimes."
Milly looked amazed at the priests admittance.
"Wow." She murmured. "You can actually do that? Isn't
it a little too. . .chewy?"
"Trust me. . .when you're half delusional
from heat stroke and starved beyond humanly imagination, anything looks
good." He snorted. "I would have eaten a table cloth."
Milly blinked. "Really?"
"Well. . ." he stammered, rubbing his chin,
". . .maybe with ketchup. . . ."
"Ketchup is good." Vash mumbled, currently
fixated on the many shiny bubbles which had congregated at the bottom of
his glass. They were so pretty. . . .
"Uh-oh." Milly regarded Wolfwood with
a concerned expression. "I think Mr. Vash has already had a bit too
much. Look. . he's almost finished his bottle."
"We can fix that." Wolfwood said with
a smirk, reaching behind him to grab another bottle for the intoxicated
gunman. "Meryl?" He blinked sweetly at the black-haired woman.
"I believe it's your turn."
Five minutes (and about twenty drinks for Vash) later
"I've never gotten any part of my body stuck
in a zipper."
"Any part?"
"Yes. . .any. Why?"
"No reason. But now I have to drink.
. . ."
Seven minutes (twenty-six drinks for Vash) later
"I've never gotten lost in the desert."
Meryl said. Once again, everyone else drank.
Wolfwood was beyond bemused now. "How
in god's name are you doing that?"
Meryl shrugged.
"In any case, it's my turn again." Wolfwood
said. "Let's see. . .I've never been beaten up over a loudspeaker
before."
"Could you please not tease me about that?"
"If you were going to let yourself get creamed,
you might as well have turned the damn speaker off. Save yourself
at least some embarrassment."
"It wasn't currently the top priority on my
mind."
"And while we're on the subject, you still
haven't payed me back for that bill."
"I think we'll call it a draw after this."
Eight minutes (twenty-seven drinks for Vash) later
"I've never locked myself in the bathroom."
"HOW do you KNOW that?!" Vash and Wolfwood
both exploded at once.
"Wow, ma'am. . .you're getting very good at
this." Milly took a drink.
Ten minutes (we've stopped counting drinks) after that
"I've never gotten sick from drinking."
"Damn you, Wolfwood!"
"I've never crashed a car."
"Will you two ever leave me alone?!"
Even later
"I've never eaten an entire can of whipped
cream in one spray."
Vash and Milly both drank.
"Is that even possible?!" Meryl gaped.
"Of course," Milly laughed, waving her
hand like it was the stupidest question in the world. She hiccupped
shortly afterwards. "You just have to make sure you don't inhale
through your nose while you're doing it or-"
"ALL RIGHT! I BELIEVE YOU!"
Exactly one hour after the start of the game
Meryl watched Vash take his drink for the last question,
noting that he'd been drinking much less than he had during the first few
questions. Obviously, he knew as well as everyone else his limits.
And how far beyond them he had already gone.
It had always confused her as to how someone
who drank as much as he did had such low tolerance. It had crossed
her mind once or twice that it could be because he was so thin. But
the moment she'd think that, she'd remember the image of him bare-chested.
. .and dismiss her theory. He was thin. . .but he wasn't. . .thin.
. . .
She pushed those thoughts out of her mind.
That experience had been nothing short of disturbing. And not because
of the countless scars he wore.
It disturbed her because of what he'd said,
and how she'd responded.
I don't really like girls to see this.
They'd run away.
No. . .no they wouldn't.
"Ma'am!" Milly piped up. "It's your
turn again!" She was poised by her glass already.
Meryl sighed. Despite the fact that her friend
had an equally low tolerance to alcohol as Vash, she always enjoyed herself.
Even if she got stark raving drunk.
An epiphany suddenly hit her. It was stupid,
and utterly illogical, but maybe. . .could it be they were both so weak
to alcohol because they were both so childish? Maybe Vash simply
let himself be taken the way he always was because he was trying to keep
up that innocent façade. It was a thought. . . .
"Ma'am?" Milly blinked at her, hiccupping.
Beside her, she heard Vash shift uncomfortably.
He was already reaching towards his drink, wavering a bit as he did so.
His aquamarine eyes had taken on the ultra-ditzy sparkle they always got
when he was either girl-crazy or drunk. She was surprised he hadn't
whipped out his bandanna and tried to dance on a table yet.
He seemed rather sedate tonight.
Maybe I'll spare both of them this time. . .
.
"I've never. . ." she fumbled for an idea, "never.
. .sleepwalked to the bathroom."
Wolfwood and Milly both looked up in shock, then
looked at each other.
"She spared us." Wolfwood said, blinking in
confusion.
Meryl cracked a small smile. It disappeared
when she saw Vash had taken a drink.
Wolfwood gave a short laugh, which died a few seconds
after it hit air. "You. . ." he stammered, "you've actually done
that?"
Vash gave a smile. "It's not so unbelievable.
You've already caught me on much worse." He shrugged lightly, still
smiling. "I have nightmares sometimes, that's all. I think I woke
up in the tub." He chuckled. "One time, I actually jumped out
of a window."
The conversation ended there. The game progressed
soon after, but the tone was noticeably different. Even Milly seemed
somewhat off. Almost like she'd suddenly become sober and tired all
at once. Vash was pretty much the same.
And Meryl. . .felt like something cold and
hard had settled in the bottom of her stomach, weighting her insides down
and giving her a sick, heavy sensation in her chest. She couldn't
take her eyes off of Vash.
That question had not been meant for anyone
to answer. She'd prided herself in knowing her opponants well.
When she'd wanted them to drink, they did. The same should have been
true for the opposite. But Vash had always been a somewhat confusing
person, she told herself. After all. . .he wouldn't tell them a thing
about his past. . .wouldn't even tell them how old he was. Where
he came from. Nothing.
But she'd always thought she knew enough,
just from learning his character on her own. It had only occurred
to her a few months ago, after the incident with Monev, how little about
him she really knew. But she'd thought then that, with persistence,
she might drive the whole story out, and write a decent, if not detailed,
report.
But now it was becoming clear to her that
there were things she might never understand, let alone know, about the
sixty billion dollar man.
For one, she thought with a lump in
her throat, why he always smiles like that. Sometimes, she
felt like crying just watching him. Wolfwood had seen it, too.
She'd seen the disapproving, often disturbed glances he gave Vash sometimes.
Actually, he was regarding him with one right now.
"Well," the Priest stretched and stood
up, pretty stable on his feet considering he'd downed about two and a half
bottles already. "I think it's time we turn in. After all.
. .we have children we need to watch, and you know how children are.
They wake up at six in the morning, and they're immediately hungry.
We'd better get some rest to work off all the-"
"Wait!" Milly spoke up. "I have
one more!"
Wolfwood shrugged. "Go ahead, big girl."
He sat back down with a smile. "No one's stopping you."
Milly grinned. "I've been waiting til'
the end of the game s'pecially for this one." She leaned forward.
"I've never been caught making out in an outhouse."
"You just had to finish me off, didn't
you?" Vash grumbled, reaching for his drink. He brought it
up to his lips and saw that Milly was still grinning from ear to ear, but
not in his direction. "Hn?" He blinked. "I don't get
it. . .what's so-" he nearly dropped his glass when he realized what had
happened.
Meryl had taken a drink.
She was blushing furiously and looking at
the floor as she did it, but nonetheless. . . .
Vash burst out laughing.
"It's not fair." Meryl mumbled.
"She only knew because we were in the same school. . . ."
Vash was struggling to breathe.
"You GO, BIG GIRL!" Wolfwood laughed
uproariously, "You got her! All right!" He and Milly exchanged
high-fives.
"He was. . .just a silly boyfriend. . . ."
Meryl muttered, trying to get over her embarrassment. Damn that Milly!
She realized abruptly that Vash had actually
stopped laughing. She soon learned why.
He'd passed out.
Right in her lap.
Wolfwood sighed, "Guess the alcohol finally
got him. He held out longer than I thought he would." He mused
thoughtfully, then stood up turned to gather the rest of the bottles.
Milly got up, too, nearly falling over as she did, but managing none the
less. She swaggered out the doorway.
"G'night, ma'am!" She called back, hiccupping
again. Wolfwood followed her.
"W-wait!" She called out. "Where
are you going?"
"I'm gonna check on the kids, then I'm taking
up my residence in the hallway and getting some shuteye." Wolfwood
said. "Why?"
"Aren't you going to help me move Vash?"
She demanded.
Wolfwood shrugged. "He's used to sleeping
where he falls. Why move him?"
"Because he's in my LAP, that's why!"
"So punch him or something." Wolfwood
yawned. "He'll wake up eventually."
Meryl watched him leave in utter disbelief.
What was she supposed to do now? She could try and move Vash, but
for all she knew, she might give him a concussion. Or something.
And as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't bring herself to punch
him when he was down. At least not now, anyway. If he was conscious,
it would be another matter. And that shouldn't happen for awhile.
But, as Vash sometimes had a tendency to do,
he woke up prematurely.
Meryl's reaction was immediate. With
all the might she could muster, she tipped her legs and threw him off.
Vash hit the floor with a groan.
"Don't ever do that again, you broom-headed
pervert!" Meryl growled at him.
"I'm sorry." Vash's voice was muffled
by the floor. He pushed himself up, smiling again. "I can't
always pre-determine where I pass out."
"You should!" Meryl said angrily.
"It happens often enough."
Vash stood up, using the table for support,
and walked towards the doorway.
Meryl felt like cursing herself. She'd
done it again. Shut him out just when she might have had a moment
to understand something. . .anything more about him. And she'd
forced that damn smile back on his face again.
"Vash!" She called out, getting up and
walking after him. He turned around, regarding her with a pair of
very tired, dilated eyes. The room had gotten so dark. But
for some reason, the greenish centers of his eyes always seemed to be visible,
no matter how little light was provided for her to see them.
"Vash. . ." she stammered, ". . .I'm sorry."
He gave a short laugh, and they began to walk
down the hallway. "For what? It was my fault for drinking too
much to begin with."
"You wouldn't have had to if I hadn't said
all those things."
He shrugged. "That's what the game was
about."
She sighed. She didn't want Vash to
take the blame for this one. But it was stupid to bring it up anymore.
So instead, she just kept walking by his side. Maybe one day, under
more ideal circumstances, she'd be able to prod a bit beneath his surface.
For tonight, she'd already done enough
"You know," she muttered, "I lied."
"Hm?"
"I lied during the game." She said.
"There was something else I should have drunk to."
"Oh, really?" He paused for a moment.
"Which one?"
"I'm not telling."
Vash was silent for a few moments. They
continued to walk.
"I lied, too." He said after some time.
"Something I shouldn't have said."
"Which one?"
He grinned. "I'm not telling."