A/N: Lyrics and title are taken from "Suteki Da Ne" (English translation: "Isn't It Beautiful"). This whole thing just jumped into my head while listening to the song on repeat. Many many thanks to the wonderful Kelpie the Thundergod for moving me to write W/V again! :D
Isn't It Beautiful
Isn't it beautiful
To walk together in each other's hands
I do so want to go
To your city, your house, into your arms.
Pastor-san has been dead for five years now. But when Millie Thompson enters the bar, she sees the familiar black profile occupying one lonely corner of the room, nursing a drink as casually as if he'd never been gone.
It's a meeting that never should have happened, she would later decide in a pronounced bout of melancholy. After all, it had been five years; and the landscape of the planet had changed in all that time, enough that those who had lost loved ones could finally put them in the past where they belonged. Now that people realized the plants were sentient creatures with their own thoughts and feelings and emotions (however alien they may be), the majority of them had scrambled to try and find ways to free them, or at least work together with them to decrease the burden that had been their bread and butter for the last one hundred and fifty years. The knowledge of the Earth Federation, while tentatively accepted, was nevertheless invaluable to the process of Emancipation, as they were now calling it. And with Knives out of the way – or so it seemed – people could unite in peace to accomplish the goals they'd set for themselves in that interim. This included creating bountiful plots of land that didn't shrivel up and die in the heat of the suns, and tapping into reserves of fresh water, previously unknown to them.
Sempai had left her position at Bernardelli only one year after the arrival of the Earth forces, citing reasons of occupational ennui, but Millie knew that wasn't true. She'd only accepted the government job that had come across her desk because it allowed her to travel – to go looking for Mister Vash, who'd vanished entirely after the final, climactic battle with his brother. Millie hadn't been offered a similar job, but even if she had, she wouldn't have taken it. If Mister Vash hadn't been killed, then he obviously didn't want to be found... and he would have reasons of his own for staying hidden. These days Millie simply busied herself with her work, or visiting Nicholas's old orphanage on the weekends, where she played with the children and helped Livio maintain the grounds. At first it had been nearly impossible to stand the way Livio kept his eyes averted from her – he seemed to sense the feelings she'd had for Pastor-san, and it made the burden of guilt he insisted on bearing even heavier – but over time he gradually let his guard down, and even spoke to her on occasion.
It's after one such visit that she finds herself heading to a nearby pub, guaranteed to sell the ceylon tea that she enjoys so much, and maybe even something stronger. While she rarely admits it to herself, she has taken to drinking more and more often, to soothe the pain of losing Sempai, Mister Vash, and Pastor-san – a trifecta of loss that leaves her feeling empty and numb.
She feels the eyes on her as soon as she enters the bar. Without looking around, she can sense the fear and morbid curiosity radiating from the faces of the patrons that occupy the tables and the long polished bar on one side of the room. Of course – she's easily recognizable, and after the events in Octovern the rumors spread like wildfire that a large blonde woman with a stun gun had been one of Vash the Stampede's tagalongs. Not that it should have mattered now, when he was supposed to be dead, but people had long memories, especially when it came to things they considered a bane to their own self-preservation. Although, most people really only remembered the strange priest that had been accompanying him –
Her eyes flicker to a corner of the room, where a man sits at the end of the bar, drinking from a bottle of Wild Turkey. Or, not precisely a man, but a ghost. Because it's Pastor-san she's looking at – same dark sharp angles that made up the suit he always wore, same black-as-hell sunglasses, even that same giant cross that was supposed to be full of mercy but really wasn't. A sharp intake of breath betrays Millie's shocked reaction; and in seconds she's running over to the man, calling out to him, totally unaware that her behavior has caused many of the patrons to quietly pick up and leave.
"Pastor-san! It can't really be you, can it? We thought you were dead – "
The man turns to face her, far too slowly, and even before she sees his face she knows it isn't him. The sight that greets her only serves to confirm this: Nicholas didn't have an ear piercing, or a beauty mark under his left eye.
The man tilts his glasses down slightly, the better to see her in the pub's poor lighting. "Millie?"
...Or green eyes.
"Mister Vash," she says, all the purpose that had driven her here suddenly draining out of her at that moment. Of course this should be wonderful news – after all, Vash was presumed to be dead as well – but she's just too horribly confused to be happy. Where has Mister Vash been for the last five years? Why is his hair completely black? And why is he wearing Nicholas's clothes?
The two of them remain stock still, staring at one another, completely helpless to say anything. Finally Millie manages to croak: "Your... your hair looks different."
To her surprise, Mister Vash laughs. It's a little too long and a little too loud, but still – she finds she's really missed that familiar tinkle of laughter all these years. "You could say that my battery ran down," he says. Millie isn't sure what he means by that, but it seems to point to something peculiar to plants. He slides one of the bar stools out for her, and shakily she sits down on it. "It sure is good to see you again," he continues, taking his glasses off. "You haven't changed at all in five years, have you?"
Millie wishes she could say the same. As it is, she merely says, "How have you been? Where's your red coat?" Which is really just a kinder way to ask the question that's really on her mind. She struggles with the feeling that this is really all an extended hallucination that she's about to sleepwalk her way out of.
"I've been great," he returns with a smile, "especially since I ditched the coat and the whole Stampede nonsense. How's Meryl, by the way? Still doing paperwork for Bernardelli?"
"No," she says, still unable to shake the feeling of unreality away, "she quit. She's out doing a census of all the people in No Man's Land now."
"Ah," he says with a touch of the old, roguish charm that had once so delighted Millie and irked Sempai. "I should have known the easy life wouldn't have suited that girl for long." He takes a long swig of the whiskey bottle sitting next to him; there are no glasses to be seen anywhere. "Care for a drink?" he asks. "I can have the bartender bring us another bottle and some glasses."
"No, thank you," she says. "Where is... Knives?" She finds it painful to say the name. "Did you see what happened to him?"
He looks surprised, then pensive. "I don't know," he admits. "After our battle on the Ark I was near death, and he took me somewhere. I didn't wake up for several weeks. When I finally did, I was told that all he left in his wake was an apple tree. At the very least, it doesn't seem like he's hurting anyone. I haven't heard any news concerning him ever since that day in Octovern."
Remove knives, get apples. That certainly seems an odd example of cause-and-effect to Millie. "We missed you," she says after a moment, feeling moisture touch her eyes. "Sempai especially. Now that the threat to the planet is gone and people are working on freeing the plants, we thought you'd be here to stay for sure."
"I'm sorry," he says heavily, his shoulders sagging. "I guess I just had to go out and... find myself."
He'd found someone, all right, but it sure hadn't been himself. "Why are you dressed like Pastor-san?" she finally asks, unable to dance around the question any longer.
His face grows as dark as his suit then, and he looks away for a moment. Presently he says: "It's my way of remembering him."
"Remembering him? Do you mean to say that you're a preacher man now?"
"Not as such, no," he admits. "But when people see the clothing and the cross, they come to certain conclusions. I've taken confessions, prayed with people... even presided over funerals." He looks wistful. "It's a peaceful life. Much better than how I was living before. I think that's how he would have wanted it to be for me, too."
Millie keeps staring at Mister Vash, hard, like he's a mirage that could slip away at any moment. There's something horrible and perverted in the fact of his taking up Nicholas's mantle, and yet beautiful and noble too. Like when he followed in the footsteps of his beloved Rem, donning the color of Love and Peace, trying to spread her message throughout... well, if not the galaxy, then certainly the sad, broken planet that they all inhabited now.
She looks over at the giant cross. "Are there weapons in there?" she asks.
"No," he says with a somewhat amused smile. "It's just wood. It really is just full of mercy now."
"Have you taken up smoking, too?" she asks next – more sharply than she intended, still not sure if she should feel angry or just sad.
He looks at her with unutterable sadness. "Millie..."
She simply stares back, and at length he sighs. "It's not that I'm trying to be him. It's just... this is the only way I know to get closer to him. To keep him alive in my heart."
"Trading red for black," she replies, looking him up and down, the edge returning to her voice as she allows anger to win out over her feelings of sorrow. "One form of slavery for another. When will you just learn to be yourself?"
He looks at her, appealing helplessly for her understanding, and she instantly regrets her words. "I'm sorry," she says, "but it's just so hard to see you like this. Because me... and Pastor-san..." The moisture that had occupied her eyes now threatens to spill over entirely.
His eyes widen a bit in understanding. "Were you in a relationship?" he asks, but he sounds as though he already knows the answer.
"No... but... I wanted to get to know him better."
Vash looks away again, studying the wall, before turning back to her. Then: "Me too."
Millie is not offended at this admission, but she is surprised. While she has certainly always understood the iron-clad bond that Nicholas and Mister Vash shared, the sense of intimacy... that is something that escaped even her perceptive nature.
"I'm sorry, Millie," Mister Vash says, mistakenly believing she is silent because she feels betrayed. "If I had ever known you had feelings for him, I would have ignored my own... maybe I should have to begin with. Then it... it wouldn't hurt so much..."
"You didn't do anything wrong," Millie says automatically, and in saying so she realizes that it's true. After all, what was there between her and the priest? She'd been attracted to his rough-and-tumble (but not unkind) personality, his ability to match her shot for shot in a drinking contest, and his rugged good looks... and then he'd been gone, never to be seen again. Mister Vash and Pastor-san, on the other hand – why, they'd braved all sorts of obstacles and horrors together, and of course they would be very close because of that. Closer than brothers, even. "You didn't do anything wrong," she repeats.
He doesn't seem to be listening to her. "I miss him, Millie. I can't be without him. Maybe it's stupid, or a sign of weakness... but when I wear his clothes, live his life, it feels like he's still here with me. I know there's better ways to remember him – at first I kept visiting the orphanage to see his grave and help with the kids, but I couldn't bear being around Livio. The guilt in his eyes, it – it reminded me too much of myself. And to look in them and remember how Wolfwood died, I...
"I couldn't bear it." He places his head in his hand. "I'm really stupid, aren't I?"
Once upon a time – a long, long time ago it seemed – scared and ignorant people had gathered to throw stones at Mister Vash, while the man himself struggled to keep his plant heritage inside of him, to fervently cast the winged features that had saved his life time and time again into permanent darkness.
Through it all, he had smiled. Millie asked him in sorrow how such a thing was possible.
"How am I supposed to look?" he had replied, the faux cheerfulness as disturbing – in its way – as the actions of the crowd. "I don't know anymore."
He still doesn't know how to look, she thinks.
"He was really the only one who understood me," Mister Vash is saying now. "He was able to see through all the fake smiles and posturing like they weren't even there. I knew I could always be myself around him. And right up to the end, I kept deluding myself into thinking that when this was all over he and I could go live somewhere together, create our own Eden. I didn't realize that he was already dying, little by little, every single day. That day he fought Livio, I... I never even told him how I felt."
She reaches out to him – to place a hand on his shoulder, to hold him, she doesn't know, but he turns away and shakes his head. It hurts her to know that she can never comfort him the way Nicholas could. All she can do is say: "Mister Vash, I'm sure that he already knew."
Mister Vash bows his head, and the tears fall freely, silently. He looks so much like Nicholas in that moment – so ultimately alone – that it's all she can do not to clasp him to her bosom and whisper soft words of consolation into his hair. Finally he straightens up, replaces the sunglasses on his face, and tells her:
"Enough. Reunions shouldn't be this sad. I'm sorry I burdened you like this."
With an obvious effort he rises from the bar stool next to her, places some bills on the table, and she realizes that he means to leave. As if it was just that easy to walk away from everything. She gets up as well – fully intending to strongarm him into staying in the best Sempai fashion she can muster – but all the strength goes out of her when he suddenly sweeps her into a fierce embrace.
"Don't follow me," he whispers, as she trembles. "I'm chasing the dust trails of a man long gone. You have your own life to live. I won't let you be caught up in this."
...It's strange. She's probably about as tall as Mister Vash – excepting that spikey hair that Pastor-san loved to make fun of so – but he always has this way of making her feel like a kid again, like she's been transported back to the days when she would sit on her father's knee, and reminisce about the stars. She leans into the hug with the unselfconscious grace of the child she imagines herself to be, and he softly kisses her forehead. Before she can react, though, he turns away, heading for the bar's entrance.
"Give Meryl my love," he says, and disappears through the doorway, the shadow of the cross trailing forlornly behind him.
After that, Millie sits and thinks and cries; and in her heart, she begs Pastor-san to forgive her, because she hadn't had the strength to make him stay. And she cries, too, because while Nicholas is dead, it really was his ghost that she had seen all along.