You really had no idea what you were doing at the shooting range. What an interesting thing to do on the first day of your month-long stay Switzerland...
It was late afternoon, as your plane had gotten in around five o'clock and there wasn't much else to do, other than unpack your luggage. But why do that now? It was still light out, and it wasn't too cold yet, so you might as well.
You shakily held the small rifle, aimed it at the target that was three-hundred feet down the range. You had the shot all lined up...
"Hey! Wait," a voice called out. The voice was calm, but you heard a slight undertone of anxiety. Whirling around in surprise, you nearly dropped the gun. A green-eyed man stood behind you. His blonde hair was a messy bob, and his expression serious. "You're not holding it right. Never, ever put your face next to the butt of the gun. You'll get one hell of a black eye shooting like that."
You flushed. Still an amateur, you felt embarrassed to be seen doing something so ridiculous at a public shooting range.
"So, how am I supposed to shoot it?" you asked, smiling a bit.
"Go back to how you were, when you were about to shoot. But whatever you do, don't pull the trigger," he told you.
You got into shooting position again, only this time, you felt the blonde's hands positioning the butt closer to your shoulder and gently guiding your face away from the potential black eye. You lined up the shot again, then pulled the trigger. You could hardly keep the gun steady. For such a small rifle, it sure had quite a kick to it.
A few more shots were fired off and each time you were able to hold the gun a bit steadier. After the last bullet had been spent, and quite a few empty shells lay on the ground, the man put his hand on your shoulder.
"Not bad," he said expertly. "Probably hit the edge of the target on that last one."
How he could tell, you'd probably never know. You laid the rifle down when he introduced himself.
"I'm Vash."
The corner of your mouth lifted a bit at the unusual name.
"I'm _."
He nodded, and struck up a bit of conversation.
"My little sister was going to come with me, so I could show her the basics of shooting. It seems that she'd rather go on picnics or spend her time making me frilly pink pajamas..." he trailed off. He smiled sheepishly, realizing that he'd mentioned the pajamas out loud.
Laughing, you told him, "Well, I find this shooting business pretty interesting, myself. It'd be nice if I got a bit better, though. Maybe we could come back here again?"
Vash nodded. "I'd love that."