He looked towards the trees, green, strong, perfect.

The blues of the sky matched his eyes, his favorite brother told him so. He already knew that, but no one had ever really pointed it out themselves. No one ever treated him like the mature yet still niaeve child he was. No one understood.

Knives peered down into the gently rippling liquid inside his cup; the water sloshed lazily as he walked out of the Rec Room. He was tired of seeing Vash and his angel Rem Saverem laughing and talking as though he wasn't there. It hurt. Just to see that. It tortured his young mind.

He knew Rem wanted his brother for herself. She wanted to be with him all the time, to steer him into her world of ethics, the black and white world of her mentallity and outlook. She didn't really love Vash, as he thought, because her love belonged to one who had died. So Rem created a world for her and Vash. Knives couldn't be in that world. He himself strayed into a gray area, and that just couldn't happen. The rules had to be followed, her own subtle yet demanding rules of kindness, grace, and bliss.

He grasped his chest as he wandered down the hallway, feeling the pain of loosing his brother to the humans that hurt them both so horribly.

Knives' more innocent side was being massacred by the confusion caused between him, Vash, Rem, and the rest of the crew. How could his brother not see?

They all were showing them mute kindness, though he could see it was obviously forced mercy by their whole being and way of acting around the twins. Knives had learned later that Rem had secretly been talking to them, persuading the crew to be more kind, as the twins were mere children and angels sent by their God. It made him even sicker to have the memory of overhearing these sessions, and it had made it worse that they kept circling around inside his mind, taunting him impishly and driving him to the point of much repressed anger.

He was slowly being killed; killed by kindness. Killed by angst that one who has known so little of humanity should never have to bear on their shoulders.

And slowly, his innocence was discarded along with all other emotion--except the fury and hate. To the death of Knives' childhood, to the new life of Millions Knives, humanity's own grim reaper in the flesh.