SPOILER ALERT: This chapter parallels certain events that occur in Volume Seven of Trigun Maximum. If you haven't read those chapters yet (but intend to), please don't ruin it for yourself! Proceed at your own risk.


When I remember those days, I picture the three of us. Rem, Nigh, and me. Sitting under the apple tree in the backyard, or reading books in the library, or drawing pictures on the sidewalk. Helping Rem bake cookies at Christmas. Planting flowers with her in the spring. Geraniums, the red ones, were her favorites. "Red is the color of life," she told us. "When I look at this flower, it reminds me to keep on living. Flowers are so small and fragile, yet so determined. If they can survive, then so can I."

I wouldn't understand what she meant until later. Back then, there was no need to worry about things like survival. We had each other, and that was all that mattered.


"Vash? Are you asleep?"

He turned his head on the pillow to face the twin bed across the room. "Not anymore."

"Sorry." The room was dark, but Vash could just make out Nigh's sheepish smile. "I keep thinking about tomorrow. What do you think Rem is planning?"

"I don't know." Vash stretched his arms over his head. "Last year she took us fishing, but I didn't like that."

"Yeah, I remember. You sure did cry a lot."

"Shut up. You didn't have fun, either."

"Only because someone threw all my worms out of the boat."

Vash closed his eyes, wanting a change of subject. "Maybe she'll bake a cake."

"I hope not. Remember the one she made when we turned seven?" Nigh giggled, then fell silent for a minute. "Do you think Mom and Dad will be there?"

Something twisted in Vash's stomach. "I wouldn't count on it," he said after a pause. "They usually have work."

Nigh's voice was quiet. "I know. But…maybe this time…"

"Hey." Vash sat up in his bed so that Nigh could see him. "We look after each other, right? And Rem looks after us. That's all we need." He lowered himself down again, pulling the blanket up to his chin. "We're actually pretty lucky, when you think about it."

Nigh didn't seem comforted. He tossed and turned a few times, then said, "Do you think Rem's ever going to leave us?"

Another pain inside, this time worse. "One day when we're older, probably," he whispered.

He heard a sniffle from Nigh's side of the room, and his own eyes began to sting. Vash swallowed back the tears. "That won't be for a long time, Nigh."

"And we'll still have each other, right? You're not going to leave me."

"Never," Vash promised. "We're brothers, aren't we? Now, get some sleep."

"Okay." Nigh exhaled shakily, and soon his breathing grew soft and slow. Vash lay awake for a long time. When he finally drifted off, worrying about Rem and about being alone, his sleep was a fitful one.

He dreamed that he was being led by the hand down a long, white hallway. The person who walked before him was a little girl about his age, only slightly taller. Her hair was the same color as his and Nigh's.

"Where are you taking me?" Vash asked.

The girl turned her head. Her eyes were the same color as theirs, too. She said nothing, placing her finger on her lips and gesturing for him to follow.

Vash felt more afraid the further they ventured into the corridor. It reminded him of the place where his parents worked, where they went to visit Dr. Conrad when they were sick. He wanted to go home. He was about to beg the little girl to turn around when a door opened and a tall person stepped out, grabbing the girl's other hand.

"Tesla! What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be in bed."

The woman had slender hands, strong arms, long dark hair. Vash knew that voice anywhere. "Rem!" he cried out, but she didn't seem to notice him.

"Let's get you back to your room," Rem said as she guided the little girl through the door. The girl's hand slipped out of Vash's, and he followed after them. "Wait!"

Rem didn't hear him. She took the young girl, Tesla, to a small room with what looked like an operating table, surrounded by tubes and machinery. Rem lifted the girl onto the table and buckled a strap around her wrist. "You're getting smarter every day," Rem said with a smile. "Pretty soon you'll be running the lab."

She stroked Tesla's hair for a moment, hiding her face. Then she strapped down the girl's other wrist and eased her head toward the pillow. "I'm sorry," Rem said, lifting a syringe from the tool tray and wiping Tesla's arm with a cotton swab. "This will hurt a little."

Vash winced as he watched the needle sink into the vein, but Tesla barely reacted. Rem attached another needle to an IV tube and inserted it into the back of Tesla's hand. She sat beside the girl for a long time after that, and Vash thought he saw a tear slide down Rem's cheek.

The door swung open, and three other adults walked into the room. Vash shuffled out of the way to avoid being trampled.

"There you are, Rem. We've been looking all over." Vash recognized his mother's voice. She was wearing the same white coat that she usually wore to work, but her face looked different somehow. Less tired, more cheerful.

His father was there, too. "How is the subject doing?"

Rem brushed her tears away rapidly. "She's stable. But I think we should hold off on any more testing today."

"Is that your medical opinion, Ms. Saverem?" The third voice belonged to Dr. Conrad. Without the beard, Vash didn't realize it was him until he spoke.

"It's my personal opinion, doctor." Rem cast him a grave look. "I leave the medical side of it up to you."

Dr. Conrad leaned over the operating table, examining Tesla's small body. "I want you to remember," he said to Rem, "what I told you when you first came onboard with this project. We cannot allow our hearts to steer our reason. This is not a child you are looking at, Ms. Saverem, it is a test subject. And it's our greatest success so far."

Vash's mother smiled at Rem. "We all love Tesla," she said. "You don't have to worry about that."

"What we're doing will benefit humanity for years to come," Vash's father said. "Tesla is the key to our future."

Rem nodded hesitantly. She stepped aside as Dr. Conrad checked Tesla's pulse, and Vash's parents took readings from a set of monitors. "Resting heart rate, one-thirty. Demonstrates the usual tachycardia." The doctor shined a light in Tesla's eyes, prodded her mouth open with a tongue depressor. "Subject reacts to visual and auditory stimuli. Continued treatment with intravenous steroids remains effective."

They attached sensors to her skull, flicked on another screen, made notes on a clipboard. "Brain patterns display accelerated executive functioning, as we've seen in the past. Cognitive activity at rest seems abnormally high." More sensors, more needles, more tubes shuttling fluids into the girl's tiny frame. "Beginning second round of hormone injections," the doctor said, and then a piercing electronic shriek came from one of the machines.

"What's wrong?" Rem flew to the doctor's side. "Tesla!"

The girl's body was convulsing, raging against the straps holding her down. Rem reached for her hand, but Dr. Conrad shoved her away. "Administer oxygen and glucose. Keep your head on your shoulders, Rem."

Rem's hands shook as she attached the oxygen mask to Tesla's face. Foam spurted from the girl's mouth and dribbled down her chin. Vash huddled in the corner of the room, his eyes wide with fear.

"Heart rate one-forty-five," his mother called from the monitor.

Tesla shook uncontrollably. One of the needles pulled loose and blood sprayed out of the tube. Red, the color of life. The color of Rem's flowers. "Hold her down!" the doctor shouted, tearing open a sterilized bag and filling a syringe.

"She's burning up," Rem cried.

"Heart rate one-sixty and rising!"

Dr. Conrad plunged the syringe into Tesla's thigh. Vash's father struggled to hold the girl still, but even with the three of them pinning her to the table, they couldn't stop her from shaking. Vash covered his ears and shut his eyes, whimpering. Make it stop. Rem, please…

He heard the long, flat beep from the machine, heard the table stop rattling, heard the panicked voices of the adults as they did everything they could to save her. But he knew all too well what was happening. For some reason, it felt like his own memory was being replayed in front of him. Yet he'd never seen the girl before in his entire life. What was going on?

When Vash finally dared to open his eyes, Tesla was no longer moving. The machines had been switched off, and the room was still and quiet. Rem was the first to speak.

"She's gone."

Dr. Conrad cleared his throat. "Time of death, eight-fifty-three A.M…"

"She's dead and we killed her."

"Due to unknown circumstances, possibly shock induced by ongoing tests…"

"This didn't have to happen. She was a child, doctor. A human child."

"Rem." Vash's father stepped in, placing his hand on Rem's shoulder. "We know how close you were to Tesla. It isn't over, though. There is still much that we can learn—"

"I've learned enough." Rem wrenched away from him. "I've learned never to let this happen again. It was wrong from the start."

"I agree with Rem," Vash's mother said. "Our methods have been…dishonorable. Tesla's sacrifice is proof of that. But we cannot let her sacrifice be in vain. We must strive toward a better future…for her sake…"

They traded solemn glances through tear-filled eyes. Then the doctor said, "We will preserve the body for further study. We will seek to understand our failures, so that we may again succeed. And one day, when the time is right, we will make another." He paused. "If Ms. Saverem wishes to depart our company, she may do so now. No questions asked."

Vash's mother and father joined hands with Dr. Conrad. After a long silence, Rem's hands completed the circle.

The three of them looked down at the lifeless body on the table, and everything faded to black.


Vash woke up crying. He heard strained, muffled sobs coming from the other side of the room, and he turned to see Nigh staring up at the ceiling, trembling.

"Did you have the same dream?" Vash asked.

Nigh didn't say a word, but the answer was clear on his face.

"That girl…Tesla…" Vash felt the tears crawling down his cheeks, soaking his pillow. "She was our sister, wasn't she?"

Nigh's sobs grew louder. Vash dug his fingers into the blankets. "Why…Rem, why did she…"

And then he screamed. He couldn't hear the noise he was making, but he could feel it, as though someone were tearing the sound from his throat. He kept seeing Tesla's face, seeing the blood, the needles. He kept seeing Dr. Conrad and Rem and his Mom and Dad prying that little girl apart until there was nothing left of her, the life gone out of her eyes, a test subject, an experiment…

"Vash!" The bedroom door burst open and Rem flipped the light switch. "What happened? What's wrong?"

She came toward him with her arms outstretched. Vash kicked her hard in the ribs and scrambled out of bed, backing into a corner. Rem doubled over, the wind knocked out of her.

"Get out of here!" Vash yelled. "Leave us alone!"

Rem pressed her hand to her stomach, struggling to breathe. "It's okay, Vash," she managed to gasp. "You just had a nightmare."

"Stop lying to me!" Vash picked up a lamp from the nightstand and hurled it at her. Rem had no time to dodge, the bulb shattering as the lamp stand struck her shoulder. Bits of glass clung to her hair, and tiny drops of blood appeared on her face. "How long were you going to keep it a secret?" Vash demanded. "How long, Rem?"

The fear registered in Rem's eyes. "You…how did you…"

"She showed us," Vash said. "Tesla showed us what you did to her. What all of you did."

He was crying again. Rem dropped to her knees, the usual strength in her voice replaced with raw horror, tremulous defeat. "I'm so sorry, Vash. Nigh. I don't understand how... I wanted to tell you both. I was going to tell you."

"Why should I believe anything you say? If you're sorry, then why didn't you save Tesla?"

"Stop it." Rem's face went stone cold. "Not another word. You have no idea what I went through to protect that girl. The things that I gave up. My morals, my principles, they were just like yours, Vash. And for what? In the end, all I could do was watch as she died." Rem ran a shaky hand over her scalp, closing her eyes tightly. "There's not a day that goes by that I don't blame myself for what happened. But I have to tell myself that I did everything in my power to watch over her. Just as I watch over the two of you."

Vash couldn't stand to look at her. He felt disgusted, betrayed. He hated her. And yet…

"What…what are we, Rem? Why did they say Tesla wasn't human?"

Rem folded her hands between her knees, choosing her words with care. "You and Nigh are one of a kind, Vash. So was Tesla. You're children—" She cast her gaze from Vash to Nigh. "Human children, with human hearts and minds. But you were made in a special way. Your DNA, your genes, your cell structure—everything that makes you you—were created synthetically. Before Tesla came along, scientists had only done this on a small scale. They knew they could create functioning organs, parts of people...but never a living, breathing person. Tesla was the very first. Then came you and Nigh—twins. They said it was a miracle."

She smiled, but her eyes were sad. Vash tried to put the pieces together in his head, to no avail. "I don't understand."

Rem inched closer to him. "Do you remember the sign on your parents' office door? 'Project Seeds?'"

Vash nodded once.

"I heard about that project when I was in college, about fifteen years ago. I'd just lost someone close to me, and I was thinking about dropping out. Then I read an article about a new independent research group, how they'd just discovered a way to create entirely artificial forms of life. They called it Project Seeds. The press hadn't released any information beyond this, but I was desperate to know more. For the first time in a long time, I was passionate about something. I wanted to be a part of it. So I tracked down Dr. Conrad, and I told him everything that was in my heart. How I'd studied synthetic biology in hopes of making this very same breakthrough. How excited I was when I'd read the release, so much that it gave me a new purpose to live, so much that I travelled across the country to seek them out. I guess I made a good impression, because the doctor told your parents about me. They hired me as an intern, and a few months later they welcomed me onto the project team.

"When I met Tesla, she was already about your age. On the surface, she looked like a healthy young girl, but I soon noticed that she was very weak. The scientists kept her confined to a room in the lab at all times, and they performed tests on her almost daily. I asked Dr. Conrad how long this had been going on, and he seemed surprised. Tesla had been a test subject since the day she was created. They wanted me to see her as just that: an experiment. She had lived her entire life under surveillance, how could she know any different? That's what I tried to tell myself. But the more I saw, the more disturbed I felt."

She gave Vash and Nigh a pleading look. "I don't think your parents are bad people. Everything they did, they were convinced it was for the good of humankind. They said they loved her..." Rem brushed at her eyes. "They wanted her to be the very best. They spoke about her as if she were a god. Tesla was highly intelligent, more than any child I'd ever met. But her body was wasting away in that lab. Your parents––her parents––they'd engineered her brain to function so well, without giving her body a chance to catch up. I didn't know what to think. Part of me had thought so highly of them, while part of me wanted to turn and run. But Tesla...she was so trusting. I had become too fond of her to leave, yet I hated to stand by and watch her die. No one listened to my arguments to halt the experiments. My words were nothing compared to theirs. And I guess you know what happened after that."

Rem shut her eyes for a long time, then opened them slowly. "Maybe I should have left. I wonder what would have happened if I'd reported them to someone I trusted, if anyone would have stopped them. I knew they were going try again. They were going to make another child. I stayed because I wanted to protect that child from the injustice that Tesla had gone through. Dr. Conrad was on my side this time, and we implemented new changes. A home for the child to grow up in. A family to look after them. Minimal testing with non-invasive procedures. And when the two of you came along..." Her face broke into another sad smile. "I knew that I'd made the right choice. I promised I would care for you both as long as I lived."

Vash felt as if a vacuum had opened up inside him and swallowed everything whole. He watched Rem, expecting to feel something like anger or hatred or despair, but all he felt was the nothingness.

"Mom and Dad," he said. "They're not even our real parents, are they? We don't have real parents."

Rem edged forward another few inches. She was almost close enough to reach out and touch him. "They were the ones who created you. And they raised you as parents would. We all did."

Vash pulled his knees up to his chin, flinching away from her. "You lied to us."

"I'm sorry. I wanted to protect you. I didn't want you to feel the same pain I felt when..."

"Stop. Go away." Vash tucked his head under his arms. "Leave. Us. Alone."

"Vash..."

The feelings came flooding in with renewed intensity, and Vash leapt to his feet. "I hate you, Rem! I hate you! I hate you!"

Rem blinked, startled, but she regained her composure quickly. "Yes," she said in a quiet voice. "I know."

She reached down and swept the broken glass into the palm of her hand, placed the lamp on the nightstand, and paused a moment at Nigh's bedside before going to the door. Nigh hadn't moved or spoken a word since he'd awakened. Rem looked like she wanted to tuck him in or kiss him goodnight, the things she usually did when they couldn't sleep, but she turned to leave instead. "I'll let you get some rest," she said. "Tomorrow we can talk some more."

Vash never wanted to speak to her again. He ignored her goodbyes, staring at the pictures on the opposite wall. Photographs of the twins with the parents who weren't their parents. Pictures Rem had drawn with them. When her footsteps had faded down the stairs, Vash took the pictures out of their frames and ripped them to shreds. He collapsed on the floor next to Nigh's bed and pressed his face into the mattress.

"You're the only family I have," Vash whispered, tears soaking the cloth around his cheeks.

If it wasn't for Nigh, he would have broken the glass from the frame and cut himself open, tied a bedsheet around his neck, jumped out the window headfirst. Ended the life that should never have been formed. But he couldn't leave his brother alone in that place, with those people. So he watched over him all night. He locked the door to their room. And when he finally did let Rem inside again, two days later, he stood in front of Nigh like a bodyguard. He half listened to Rem as she talked about her past, her family, the people she loved. He made sure Nigh ate the food that she brought them, though he refused it for himself. He was planning to leave. He was planning to get both of them out, for good. Somewhere away from people, away from evil. Somewhere Nigh would be safe.

He didn't know that Nigh had plans of his own.


The house was on fire.

Vash blinked his eyes. He was alone in the room, in the dark. The smell of smoke hung in the air. An orange glow lit the doorframe.

"Nigh?" Vash called, clambering down from the bed. "Where are you?"

He heard a knocking sound to his right, and turned to see Nigh perched on the windowsill, his finger pressed to his lips.

"You'll fall!" Vash cried. But when he came closer, he saw that Nigh had taken hold of a tree branch outside the window.

Vash glanced over his shoulder at the growing haze of smoke, the muffled roar of flames curling around the doorframe. Nigh was right. There was only one way out.

He held onto Nigh's arm to steady him as his brother climbed into the tree, then Vash followed after him. They made their way down the trunk, branch by branch. Vash didn't realize how hot it had been inside the house until he landed in the cool wet grass of the lawn. He stepped back a few paces and looked up at the place that was once their home, the fire encroaching up the walls and bursting from the windows.

Nigh grabbed his sleeve and pulled him toward the woods.

"Wait!" Vash shouted. "We need to find Rem! We need to call for help!"

He lunged against his brother's grip, but Nigh clamped down on his arm and pushed him further away from the house, away from the street, into the darkness.

"Nigh, what are you doing?" Vash yelled.

"What do you think?" Nigh answered through gritted teeth. He hadn't spoken in weeks, and his voice was raw, unfamiliar. Frightening. Then Vash saw the heavy backpack on Nigh's shoulders, and it dawned on him. This was their chance, wasn't it? This was their escape. But...

"We have to go back, Nigh! This isn't right!"

Nigh tilted his head. "I thought you wanted to leave."

"I do-I did. But not like this. They could be hurt—"

"Who? 'Mom' and 'Dad?' Why should we care what happens to them?" Nigh's face twisted up the way it did when he was about to cry. "They're murderers, Vash! They killed our sister!"

"Rem says—"

"Rem is just as bad as they are! You saw her in the dream, didn't you? How long do you think it would take for her to tell them what we know? How long before they killed us, too?"

"She wouldn't let that happen," Vash argued, and though he'd doubted her promise before, he found that he truly did believe it.

Nigh shook his head and dragged Vash behind him, to the edge of the woods. "We don't have time for this. We need to get moving."

"Vash?" A faint voice echoed over the lawn. "Nigh?"

The grip on Vash's arm loosened, and Vash broke free. "Rem!" he screamed. "Over here!"

Nigh leaped on his back and threw him to the ground. The impact shattered through Vash, his face striking the earth and the taste of blood filling his mouth. He struggled to lift his head. In the distance, between splotches of darkness that threatened to overtake his vision, he saw Rem run into the house, shielding her face with her arm and calling their names.

"Rem!" Vash cried with all the breath he had left. "No! Come back!"

His screams were muted by Nigh's hand smothering his mouth. Vash wrenched around onto his side, thrashing wildly. He got in one good kick, and crawled away as Nigh staggered backward. "REM! REM! RE—"

One last hit from Nigh's elbow in the back of his neck, and Vash fell unconscious.


When he opened his eyes, the sun was shining. He was in a quiet forest, green leaves whispering in the faint breeze. Nigh sat watching him from atop a fallen trunk.

"How are you feeling?" Nigh asked.

At first, Vash couldn't remember what had happened. He thought maybe they were on a camping trip with Rem. Then he sat up, and the pain pulsed in the back of his head, and he remembered Nigh pushing him down and the fire and the broken lamp and the little girl lying on the operating table, and he knew. He knew.

Ignoring Nigh's first question, he asked, "Where are we?"

"I don't know." Nigh cast his eyes around the trees. "As far as I could get with the pack and you on my back."

Vash glanced over at the heavy backpack that Nigh had taken from the house. Some of its contents were spread out on the ground. Cans of food, a pocketknife, bottles of water. And lying on the fallen tree trunk next to Nigh, a black handgun.

"Nigh," Vash began, his voice strained in shock. "What is that?"

A wry smile from his brother. "Come on, Vash. Don't you remember when we snuck into 'Mom' and 'Dad's' room, that day when they weren't home? Remember what we found?"

"You shouldn't have touched it, Nigh! That's dangerous!"

Nigh laughed humorlessly. "Of course it's dangerous, that's the point. How do you think two kids are going to protect themselves without a weapon? I swear, you're starting to sound like Rem."

At the mention of Rem's name, Vash flew into a fury. He grabbed Nigh's shoulders and forced him to the ground, reaching a fist back to hit him. "You bastard! You ruined everything!" He punched Nigh in the face, so hard that his fist hurt. "I was going to get us out of there! We shouldn't have left everyone to die! And now Rem-she never got out, did she? Tell me what happened to her!"

Nigh sniffed, blood leaking from his nose. "Relax, idiot. No one's going to find out we did it. I planned everything from the start."

The truth washed over Vash like a wave knocking him off his feet. He could hardly breathe. "You...started that fire. Nigh. Didn't you."

Only a calm stare in return. Not a trace of denial. Vash could hear the raging sound coming out of his own throat, hear the heartbeat pounding in his head, but he felt faraway, as if he were watching someone else beat his brother to a pulp, listening to someone else's screams of You killed her! You're a murderer! and seeing someone else grab the gun and point it at Nigh's head, ready to pull the trigger.

"You hypocrite," Nigh said with disgust, his eyes swollen and watery. "All your talk about saving people, and this is what it comes down to?" His bloody lips cracked a smile. "Go ahead and shoot if you want. I wouldn't blame you. One murder deserves another, right?"

The barrel of the gun wavered in Vash's shaking hands. His throat was so tight that he thought it might close up completely. Then his eyes blurred and he broke down in painful sobs. His arms went limp, and Nigh gently pried the gun out of his hand and set it aside.

"You said we'd always look after each other," Nigh reminded him. "As long as we have each other, that's all that matters."

Vash leaned against Nigh's shoulder as they both rose to their feet. Nigh was right, he was a hypocrite. He had been prepared to kill his own brother because his brother killed Rem. And all because of what happened to Tesla. Where would it end? When would justice be served? Would any of them be left, at the finish?

He watched Nigh with a mixture of care and suspicion, loyalty and distrust. For the first time in his life, Vash felt a rift between them, a difference of nature so strong that it seemed capable of tearing them apart. But from that day on, they would have to rely on each other to survive. So Vash followed Nigh deeper into the world they'd never known, a vast and frightening wilderness of shadows and traps, and people.


They managed to ration out the food for several weeks. Finding water was a greater challenge, because they rarely ventured into the populous towns and cities that marked the steps of their journey. But as weeks gave way to months, as their pack ran out and the nights grew colder, they became more and more desperate. And thus, more careless.

Vash had been insisting that they move closer to the streets of the nearby town. It was warmer there, and there were people in the houses who might give them food. Nigh refused to listen, until one night he awoke to find the pack missing and Vash heading down the hill, toward the streetlights.

"What are you doing?" Nigh demanded, running to catch up.

"I'm going to have a look around. If you're afraid, then you can stay here."

Nigh opened his mouth to protest, but Vash's determination had passed the point of dispute. He crept after his brother reluctantly, nerves on edge, as they descended into the town.

The street was all but empty at this hour. Businesses had closed for the day, and Vash and Nigh had some success raiding the dumpsters behind restaurants and convenience stores. An outdoor park had running water fountains, and one of the public restrooms had been left unlocked. They took advantage of the sinks and paper towels to wash off the grime that had been accumulating for weeks, the warm water an unexpected luxury on their skin.

"See?" Vash said with a smile. "I told you this was a good idea."

Nigh shook his wet hair so the water sprayed Vash's face, and laughed.

Vash was pulling his shirt back on when he heard the low rumble of a car engine, just outside the door. He looked over to see Nigh frozen in fear, his hair still dripping.

"It's all right," Vash assured him. "Probably someone came to lock up. We'll say we're sorry and leave, no big deal."

He reached for the pack, and the door swung open. A tall man strode inside, his pants already unzipped, and reeled to a stop when he noticed the two small boys staring up at him. His unshaven face molded into an ugly smile. "Well, what do we have here? Kinda late for you kids to be out all alone, ain't it?"

"We're not alone," Nigh replied instantly. "Our parents are waiting for us outside."

The man took a step toward him, looming over Nigh like a vulture. "That sure is a relief. Wouldn't want their little honor students getting into any trouble." He turned to Vash. "But I didn't see nobody outside. How about you two wait in my car until they come and pick you up?"

Vash wrinkled his nose. The man's breath reeked worse than his did. "I don't think so," he said. "We're going to leave, now."

Nigh started to sneak out behind him, but the man reached around and grabbed him by the arm. Vash saw Nigh grimace in pain, and cold fear surged through him.

"That doesn't sound like such a great idea to me," the man said. "Couple of little boys running around on their own, nobody to look after 'em. I've got a better idea. You both come home with me, and I'll give you something to eat. Look like you haven't had nothing to eat in a while, right? Now, tell me the truth."

Vash chanced a look in the man's eyes. For a moment, he seemed so sincere that Vash wondered if he'd misjudged him. But when the man reached out for him, Vash stepped back. With a reflex so quick it surprised him, Vash slid his hand into the pack and took out the gun, aiming it at the man's chest.

The man burst out laughing. "Where the hell'd you get that, son? Give it here before you hurt yourself."

Vash removed the safety and pulled back the slide, rehearsing what Nigh had shown him. I'm not going to shoot him. I'm going to scare him away.

The man's expression grew concerned as the slide clicked into place, the chamber loaded, and Vash stared down the sight with both hands steadying his aim. "Hey now, I'm serious," the man said. "Hand it over, kid."

"Shoot him, Vash!" Nigh screamed, elbowing the man's shoulder and trying to break free. The man grabbed him and locked him in both arms, shielding himself with Nigh's body.

Vash raised the sight to the man's eyes. "Let him go. Let us leave."

"Kid. Vash, that's your name?" The man swallowed, his grip on Nigh tightening. "Look, I don't want you to get hurt. Put that gun on the floor, okay? It's dangerous."

"Don't listen to him!" Nigh yelled, fighting as the man tried to stifle his screams. "Just pull the trigger! He wants to hurt us!"

A sick feeling rose in Vash's throat. "I don't want to kill him, Nigh. We don't know who he is."

The man's eyes widened, and he nodded furiously. "Th—that's right!" he stammered in Nigh's ear. "Listen to your brother!"

"No!" Nigh thrashed in the man's arms. "Shoot already, Vash! It doesn't matter if it hits me, just fire the gun and get out of here!"

Then Nigh bit down on the man's hand and wriggled under his arm, slipping and falling on the hard tile. The man let out a yelp, flailing his arm at Vash, reaching for the gun and missing, his hand closing on Vash's right arm instead. He yanked Vash's wrist down, and with a startled cry, Vash squeezed the trigger with his left hand.

A flash of light, a deafening explosion, and Vash fell backward in a hot red spray of blood. The recoil kicked his elbow back so hard that the gun flew out of his hand. The man hovered on his knees, spasming and choking on the blood that gushed from his neck with a horrible sound that Vash felt rather than heard. The body jerked forward and landed on Vash, crushing his legs.

Vash lay shuddering on the floor, eyes unblinking. The ringing in his ears was slowly replaced by Nigh's voice. "Can you hear me, Vash? Are you okay?"

His arm hurt. His legs hurt. There was blood on the ceiling. How?

"We have to go." Nigh's arms were hooked under his shoulders, dragging him out from underneath the dead man. A thick red pool oozed along the tile, smeared by Vash's shoes.

He began to cry. And then he began to scream.

Nigh dropped to his knees beside Vash and hugged him, pressing Vash's face into his sleeve. Vash was inconsolable, his cries barely muffled by Nigh's embrace. "Stop it!" Nigh begged. "Come on, Vash, we can't do this. Get on your feet and let's go."

Vash shoved him away. He'd spotted the gun on the floor, and he crawled after it, still loaded, he could still do it, fumbling with the slide and pointing it into his mouth, both thumbs on the trigger—

"Vash!" Nigh tore the gun from his hands and pinned him down, the weapon skittering across the floor. "No. No no no no no…"

"I killed him," Vash whimpered, "I didn't want—I didn't want to—"

"You had no choice. You did the right thing."

"Let me go!" Vash tried to hurl himself toward the gun again, but Nigh held him back.

"Please," Nigh said. "Listen to me. I can't let you go. I need you here. You saved my life, don't you realize that? You saved both of us. Now, we're going to get up and run far away, but I need you to be quiet and do what I ask. You won't even have to look. Okay? Just close your eyes."

Vash stared at Nigh's calm face, then obeyed. A minute or two passed, and his shallow breathing deepened slightly, his fists unclenched. Nigh helped him stand up and told him to wait. Vash listened as Nigh unloaded the gun, took something out of the pack, ran the faucet, closed up the pack again. He remembered a trick Rem had taught him once, and began counting down from one hundred, pausing for a breath between each number. He continued to count as Nigh led him out the door and into the cold night air, Eighty-five, eighty-four, the car's engine still running, waiting while Nigh opened the door, cut the ignition, closed the door, Seventy-two, seventy-one, Nigh holding his hand as they tiptoed through the grass of the park, then pavement, then grass again, Forty, thirty-nine, and now they were running up a hill, the familiar crunch of twigs and dead leaves underfoot, all the way into the deep woods, Twelve, eleven, ten, nine, eight, until they were both out of breath and the forest surrounded them on all sides and the smell of the city was gone, Zero, and Vash opened his eyes.

Nigh was bent over with both hands on his knees, exhausted and gasping for air, but he still managed a slight smile when he saw Vash's face. "I'm proud of you," he said.

They only rested a few minutes before moving on again. When they were miles away, the sky lit by a timid gray dawn, Vash washed the man's blood from his face with his ruined shirt and burned the clothes in their campfire, wearing the only spare rags they had left. Nigh had fallen asleep by the warm embers, and Vash sat staring at the wispy smoke until an hour passed and he knew they needed to keep moving.

That's when he looked down and realized he'd been scratching his left wrist with his fingernails, so hard that it bled.


Vash blinked his eyes. They felt dry, his eyelids heavy. The screensaver on his laptop whirled in and out of focus, lazy blobs of color on a black background. His earphones were in, but no music was playing.

He noticed Wolf standing beside him, watching his face expectantly. Vash took the earphones out. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"

"I said you've been staring at that screensaver for over an hour."

Vash looked back at the screen. He didn't remember when he'd sat down at the desk, or what he'd been doing.

"Are you feeling okay?" Wolf asked, leaning closer.

He wanted to let Wolf hug him, but the smell of smoke on his clothes made Vash pull away. Wolf's reaction was crushing. Vash tried desperately to smile, to shrug it off, his heart devastated. "Don't worry about me. Just a little spaced out, that's all."

A disbelieving pause. "If you say so," Wolf muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning to leave.

Vash listened to the door shut, the footsteps disappearing down the hall, half hoping that Wolf would change his mind and come back. The sound faded completely. Silence devoured the room. A familiar hollow sting dulled Vash's senses, weighed down his chest.

He pushed up his left sleeve and picked the bandage apart.