"A Subtle Silence II"
"Don't cry," I whisper, hoping that it sounds comforting. "Please."
She does not reply. She looks so...vulnerable, sitting on my bed, nervously playing with the folds of her nightgown. In the moonlight, she looks almost childlike with her slight build, completely innocent and untouched.
She would look like an angel, were it not for the silent tears falling from her face.
I regret my decision already.
"Meryl..."
Her small hand comes up to cover my mouth. Its softness confuses me.
She turns to me, those clear gray eyes too bright from her tears. A look of infinite sadness colors her features. Time seems to halt as she gazes at me.
Even in the midst of sorrow, she is breathtaking.
For a moment, I think that she is going to kiss me. Despite my words earlier, I am unsure how I will react. Her hand is warm and smooth against my lips, playing havoc with my senses.
I long for something I shouldn't have.
I try to speak, but her hand prevents me. Giving me one long, last glance, she leaves the room, the door closing swiftly behind her.
The room is empty, save for a lingering scent of lavender.
I lay back down on my bed, burying my face in the pillow.
*****************
I never wanted to hurt her.
But I didn't want to chain her down, either.
Whenever I look at her, I see vibrancy and life. I see kindness and determination. I see understanding and, impossibly enough, acceptance. I see everything I have ever loved about humanity, distilled into one beautiful being.
She doesn't belong here. Not with me --- an ageless guardian, fated to watch over a slumbering demon for eternity.
It sounds like something torn from the primeval legends of yore, brought to life with a painful clarity.
I glance over at the figure lying still in the middle of the room. Other than the shallow breaths of sleep, no other signs of life grace this 'sleeping beauty.'
My brother.
In the past few months, he has yet to awaken. I fear he never will.
And so I watch over him. To protect him. To protect others from him, if he ever regains consciousness.
I begin my daily ritual, cleaning and rebandaging Knives' wounds. It's a telling sign of his condition that he hasn't healed at all since I brought him back. I try my best not to dwell upon the implications --- that the wounds I inflicted continue to linger. Unchanging, unerasable.
Unforgivable.
My mind ranges back to that day in the garden, with Knives and Rem. The day had been sunny and warm, the field around us full of life. It had been so beautiful, even if it wasn't real.
I remember coming up to the web where the butterfly was caught, struggling to escape. We all watched, both fascinated and horrified, as the spider crept slowly towards it. The predator, inevitably stalking its prey. I stooped down to untangle the poor fluttering creature, being careful not to tear the web.
In one smooth motion, Knives reached out a hand and crushed the spider.
"This is the easiest way to do it. You wanted to save the butterfly, didn't you?"
"No! I wanted to save both of them!"
"What are you saying? If I hadn't killed the spider, then the butterfly would be dead."
I didn't kill the spider. I just tore its legs off so that it couldn't move.
"If we keep saving all the butterflies then the spider would die from starvation."
It wasn't supposed to end this way.
"You can't save them both."
He was supposed to recover. He was supposed to see why I have to protect humans. Why I love them so much.
I just know that in time, he would have come to care for them as much as I. If only...
"I won't be wrong a second time!"
My words ring hollowly in my mind, mocking me. Deep down, I know that I may as well have killed him. Now I keep my penance, patiently taking care of his body as I wait for his soul to heal. Even if it takes an eternity to do so.
I could never chain her to an existence like this.
I feel the tears welling up again, but she is not here to comfort me this time. I slump down in the chair, my face in my hands. I miss her sorely.
I don't know if she ever realized how important she was to me.
Perhaps it's better that way.
The memories resurface, fresh in my mind, of times when she simply held me until I cried myself out. Of nights spent standing silently over her bed where she lay sleeping, never daring to do more than look. Of days when she seemed so beautiful in the glittering sunlight I could barely speak...and she would smile at me, immediately easing the sharp aching in my chest.
She was always here to absorb my pain, even as I caused her hers.
Until I sent her away.
Feelings of regret sweep over me for that, but I know that it was necessary.
Wasn't it?
I had to send her away.
I told her to leave --- that I didn't need her with me. I told her every hurtful and cruel thing that I thought could ever drive her from me.
I told her I didn't love her.
There is so much of my life I have to regret for...
She understood what I was trying to do. Perhaps better than I understand it myself. She was the one with the strength to see it through.
Despite it all, she continues to love me.
I think it is that most of all that makes me feel ashamed.
I walk over to the mirror hanging over the sink, forcing myself to look at the polished surface. Reflected back is the image of a young man, forever trapped at his prime. Deceptionally full of vitality and potential.
I suddenly feel very old.
What does she see, when she looks at me?
"Vash," I murmur to my reflection, "you truly are a fool."
If my brother were still awake, I am sure he would be laughing.
Author's Notes: I need to stop writing angst. It puts me in a bad mood, and I can never write a story to be happy again once it's devolved into a weepy mess.
Yes, that's the whole story. I don't think I'm going to be adding to it. I tried before and it didn't work at all. In this story, at least, everybody is supposed to end up miserable.