1 Looking Towards the Future
By Kiri and Jaina
I sit down beside him. The night is chilly, but I'm used to it. He does not look at me. I do not look at him. He's humming something so lowly, under his breath, so quietly that I can barely hear it. It's an intense evening, three of the moons gleaming ice from the sky, the fourth lurking behind the mountains in the distance. I lean back slightly onto my arms behind me, getting comfortable. Of all things we have time.
There's a peace in the air that I've never felt around him before. Without even looking hard I can tell that the set of his shoulders is different, as if some tremendous burden has been lifted after weighing him down for far too long. Even in his quietest moments, there's was always some unspoken tension thrumming in the air around him. I never knew what it was until it was too late to help him. The last time we sat together like this, watching the stars in comfortable silence, we'd both managed to temporarily delude ourselves into believing that it could last. The reason why it couldn't is lying unconscious not far away, which brings up a whole new set of problems, but for now that doesn't seem to matter. For now, we can just sit and enjoy the evening without waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He moves slightly, but I don't turn my head. Maybe he'll say something and it will ruin the moment, the mood, the foreverness that we have. Maybe he'll smile that deep, yearning smile that breaks my heart every time I see it. Maybe... maybe he'll say my name.
"I'm hungry. Do you want to get some donuts?"
Maybe not.
I consider pointing out that he's already consumed a dozen donuts since he arrived back here earlier today, but I'm in too good a mood. "I'm fine. There might be a few of them left in the kitchen if Milly hasn't finished them off, though."
"I don't really want to go inside," he says quietly, turning his eyes back away from me. "It's... nice out here."
"It is," I agree, my voice soft. Something about the darkness is pressing down on everything, like a down blanket over everything, dampening sound and my reactions. I just want to be here. With him.
"Do you think the party's still going on?" he asks, sounding amused. His triumphant return was completely overshadowed by the village's frenetic celebration of the new well--except for Milly and me, of course. The irony isn't lost on either of us.
"Probably," I say. "The way it was going before, I doubt they'll wind down until sometime tomorrow."
"Well, it's good they're happy." I can hear in his voice that he's smiling. It is silent again, without even the comfort of his humming. The wind stirs the hair by the nape of my neck, almost a caress. I want to reach out to him, to sit closer.
I'm silly. I smile to myself slightly, faintly. Maybe I was already too close for his tastes. Very little in his behavior had shown that he might have returned my feelings. I still haven't told him. I wonder if I ever will.
Maybe tonight is as good a night as any.
"Vash-san--"
"I was wondering--"
We both start talking at the same moment, then stop. "You go first," I say.
He shakes his head. "No, go ahead."
I smile. Ironic. Somehow I can't bring myself to look at him. The mountains loom in the distance, cutting into the deep sky like razorblades. "I've been thinking for a while..." Ah, ever the direct approach, I chide myself. "Well, I've been watching you. I think... I think I understand a little..." In my haste not to sound foolish, I trip over my own words. "I mean, not that I'll ever understand completely, of course, but after coming this far, I think... I mean, I really..."
I just stop, trying to mask the horror and shame I am sure is on my face. I'm a fool. Such a fool.
The feel of a callused hand upon mine stops my self-flagellation. I look up, cheeks burning. He is closer to me now, and he's not looking at me with scorn. He's looking at me like he wants to hear what I have to say.
I look away almost as quickly. How can I say anything but truth to those eyes? They could certainly see right through me in any case.
"I'm sorry..." I say finally, taking a deep breath to recover. Maybe telling him is not such a good idea. Maybe he'll laugh at me and scorn me, and then just disappear, as if I never existed.
But... his eyes...
There's honesty in them now. I can see some of what he feels when I look into them. I never could before.
"Don't be sorry," he says, and I can't not look at him when he speaks to me in that voice. "I mean, I owe you a lot. You and Milly, really. More than I could possibly repay." He flushes a little; maybe I'm not the only one struggling for words right now.
I give him my plastic smile, trying to make it look as real as possible. Milly and I. Of course. Of course.
Rue lingers in my voice. "You don't owe us anything."
This time he is the one to look away. It almost hurts when he takes his hand away to grab a fistful of sand and clench it in his fingers. "This is stupid," he says.
I try not to flinch, but I don't think I'm successful. Maybe he didn't notice. "I can leave if you want."
"No, stay," he says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. All of his practice with hiding his own feelings and now he can't seem to make them known. "I don't mean *this* is stupid, I just mean.I'm doing this all wrong. I spent the whole trek back figuring out what I was going to say when I got back, but now it's all messed up." He loosens his fist and the sand slides between his fingers to the ground.
I shut my eyes tightly. When had I destroyed the peaceful calm in which we had been resting quietly? There is a long moment of silence between us, an achingly huge chasm.
And I begin to hum.
It's soft, very soft, so that only he can hear me. I only want him to hear me. It's an old melody that's been around since.well.since people arrived here, I suspect. I don't know what I'm trying to say, if I'm saying anything at all. I'm incredibly relieved that here's here, alive and whole, and not shot dead somewhere in the desert or fleeing from us in shame. I'm so glad that even with all the revelry occurring elsewhere, he chooses to be here with me. I'm happy that I seem to have his friendship, if nothing else.
I grieve that I can't seem to say any of this. So I hum. After a few moments, he joins me. For a short time, our voices join together to produce something special; or a short time, we're completely in tune. It's beautiful.
It's strange how moments can last forever but then disappear as if they had been nothing at all. That's how this is. All at once, the song is over, his deeper voice lingering threads into the night air. I want to cry. I want to cry and scream and laugh and bleed and hug him and hold him and never let him go.
I do none of these things.
Instead, I remain where I am, silent, my emotions a misty argument inside me. He is looking out towards the moons again, towards the horizon. Then, vaguely, a question perches in my mind, interrupting my chaotic feelings.
What does he see out there?
Maybe he sees his future, endless like the sky seems. Maybe he sees her, that woman he loved with all his heart and still does. Maybe he sees in the night air the hope for the human race that he harbors deep within himself.
But I don't know. So I ask.
"What are you looking at?" I say softly.
"The past," he answers after a considered silence.
"What do you mean?"
"The starlight," he answers. "Light moves faster than anything humanity could ever create or imagine. But the stars that it comes from are so far away that by the time it reaches us, the light only brings reflections of things that happened thousands of years ago."
An ironic smile comes to my lips. "So you're saying that we're essentially surrounded by the past."
He chuckles lightly. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."
My smile fades and is replaced with something more thoughtful. "But. aren't we also surrounded by the future?" Now he turns to look at me, something serious in his eyes, his brow furrowed slightly.
I panic. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?" Ah, how love changes a person. Wouldn't I have just hit him before?
"No, not at all," he shakes his head. "I like that, I think. The past.should be remembered. It's important. But I'm starting to realize that you can't hold onto it too tightly or that's all you'll ever have."
Is this really Vash talking? Not the Vash I know, at any rate. Not quite.
I lean a little closer to him, almost worried. "This. is about him, isn't it?"
His eyes narrow ever so slightly, but I see it. He's surprised, but nods slightly, eyes trailing towards the house. "In a way, I suppose. Not only him, though."
"Her too," I say quietly, sure of this at the very least.
He nods. "Her, too. And you."
I blink, a little startled. "And...me?" What about me? There is something new in his eyes. Am I holding my breath? "What... do you mean?"
He gives me a little smile, sweet, and turns his eyes to the fifth moon. "I made a promise to myself on the way back from the desert: I can't run from Knives anymore. I don't need to, now that he's. incapacitated. He'll never hurt a living being again. I'll make sure of that." He sounds determined, and at the same time hopeful. "But it's more than that. For most of my life I've been living with his shadow over my head. Everything he's done can be at least partly blamed on me because I didn't stop him." My heart breaks a little at these words. "I can't think that way anymore," he continues. "What I do in the future won't make up for what I didn't do in the past, but. I've got to start living my life. I can't let myself be surrounded by the past forever. She wouldn't want that.I don't want that."
There is a long moment between us, silence ringing through the night. My voice breaks it hesitantly, quietly. "What exactly are you telling me, Vash- san?"
His eyes turn back to me, luminous. "There are just some chances I can't miss. You only live once, you know."
"Oh?" Very eloquent, Meryl. But he's taken my hand again, holding it between his, and it doesn't matter. "What would those be?"
"Well." He's a little pink now. I can only imagine the expression on my face. "I wanted to say something before I left, but it wasn't the right time then. Not with what I had left to do. But things are going to be okay now and I can't let this slip away again."
I smile, shyly, slowly, nervous. If this is what I think it is, am I ready?
Yes. I'm more ready for this than anything in my life.
Slowly, my hand squeezes his, gently. I am afraid. But also so happy. "It's all right," I whisper, unsure whether I am reassuring him or myself.
"I don't know whether they'll end your assignment now that the Humanoid Typhoon is gone for good," he says, looking very serious now. "I don't even know where we're going to go next. But I do know that.I'd really like you to stay, not because of your assignment."
He takes a deep breath.
"Because I want to be with you."
I can feel my heart beating faster.
"Because I."
I think my cheeks are wet.
"Because I l-"
His lips are soft and warm on mine. I know he's startled, but so am I. How could either of us have known that I was going to kiss him?
But it's sweet, so sweet, and his arms find their way around my waist, holding me. I'm so close to him and I can smell him, that soft gunpowder scent that always lingered on him, but more overwhelmingly, his own smell. I'm trembling maybe, but he tightens his arms. He's kissing back, deeper, holding me so close. I'm going to burst into a million pieces.
I don't think I've ever been happier.
I try and move closer at the same time tries to pull me onto his lap and somehow we topple over onto the sand together. We're both laughing at how silly we must look but not for very long because we're still kissing and I think I might my heart might burst from the joy of it.
"Sempai?" A thin voice from far away is calling me. "Sempai, where are you? It's getting late!"
Reluctantly, I pull myself away from him. His cheeks are a delectable shade of pink. I try not to giggle. That would not be dignified. "Will you come back with me?"
He smiles back, shy. "There's nothing out here anyway for me."
"Good." I kiss him warmly, with love. A promise. Reluctantly, we get out our feet and I hold out my hand. "Ready?"
"Always." He takes it, and something clicks inside of me. This is the way things are meant to be. Side by side, content to be near one another.
Hand in hand, we walk towards the future.
***
Unused titles:
"When Smutsters Go Lame"
"What, No Screwing?"
"Romance as Opposed to Humping"
"Present Tense Presents"
"Vash and Meryl: Still Cute Like Bunnies, but No Humping"
"Ha, Bet You Thought We'd Write About Sex Again"
"Despite Our Names, We Like WAFF Too"
"Insert Pretentious Symbolic Title Here"
"Future Equals Sex, Silly"
"Better Than Other Fics (You Know Which Ones We're Talking About)"
"Dude, Didn't We Have Trouble Coming Up With a Title For the Last Fic? Why Are We Doing This Again??"
"The Night Before the Morning After"
"Beginning the Future (With Macking)"
"Is That Your Tongue In My Mouth?"
"No Sex, Sorry Folks, Nothing to See Here"
"We Betray Our Names"
"I Wanted to Write Smut But Kiri Said No"
"I Am Mean to Poor Jaina"
"Kiri Dislikes Smut, Flame Her"
"HEY!"
"Want Smut? Send Cash"
"We Accept "
"E-mail Us For Info"
"Milly, Have You Ever Had a Threesome?"
"They Couldn't Have Sex in the Desert Because Sand Would Get in Uncomfortable Places"
Kiri: kiri@fushigiyuugi.org
Jaina: lhanson@bgnet.bgsu.edu
By Kiri and Jaina
I sit down beside him. The night is chilly, but I'm used to it. He does not look at me. I do not look at him. He's humming something so lowly, under his breath, so quietly that I can barely hear it. It's an intense evening, three of the moons gleaming ice from the sky, the fourth lurking behind the mountains in the distance. I lean back slightly onto my arms behind me, getting comfortable. Of all things we have time.
There's a peace in the air that I've never felt around him before. Without even looking hard I can tell that the set of his shoulders is different, as if some tremendous burden has been lifted after weighing him down for far too long. Even in his quietest moments, there's was always some unspoken tension thrumming in the air around him. I never knew what it was until it was too late to help him. The last time we sat together like this, watching the stars in comfortable silence, we'd both managed to temporarily delude ourselves into believing that it could last. The reason why it couldn't is lying unconscious not far away, which brings up a whole new set of problems, but for now that doesn't seem to matter. For now, we can just sit and enjoy the evening without waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He moves slightly, but I don't turn my head. Maybe he'll say something and it will ruin the moment, the mood, the foreverness that we have. Maybe he'll smile that deep, yearning smile that breaks my heart every time I see it. Maybe... maybe he'll say my name.
"I'm hungry. Do you want to get some donuts?"
Maybe not.
I consider pointing out that he's already consumed a dozen donuts since he arrived back here earlier today, but I'm in too good a mood. "I'm fine. There might be a few of them left in the kitchen if Milly hasn't finished them off, though."
"I don't really want to go inside," he says quietly, turning his eyes back away from me. "It's... nice out here."
"It is," I agree, my voice soft. Something about the darkness is pressing down on everything, like a down blanket over everything, dampening sound and my reactions. I just want to be here. With him.
"Do you think the party's still going on?" he asks, sounding amused. His triumphant return was completely overshadowed by the village's frenetic celebration of the new well--except for Milly and me, of course. The irony isn't lost on either of us.
"Probably," I say. "The way it was going before, I doubt they'll wind down until sometime tomorrow."
"Well, it's good they're happy." I can hear in his voice that he's smiling. It is silent again, without even the comfort of his humming. The wind stirs the hair by the nape of my neck, almost a caress. I want to reach out to him, to sit closer.
I'm silly. I smile to myself slightly, faintly. Maybe I was already too close for his tastes. Very little in his behavior had shown that he might have returned my feelings. I still haven't told him. I wonder if I ever will.
Maybe tonight is as good a night as any.
"Vash-san--"
"I was wondering--"
We both start talking at the same moment, then stop. "You go first," I say.
He shakes his head. "No, go ahead."
I smile. Ironic. Somehow I can't bring myself to look at him. The mountains loom in the distance, cutting into the deep sky like razorblades. "I've been thinking for a while..." Ah, ever the direct approach, I chide myself. "Well, I've been watching you. I think... I think I understand a little..." In my haste not to sound foolish, I trip over my own words. "I mean, not that I'll ever understand completely, of course, but after coming this far, I think... I mean, I really..."
I just stop, trying to mask the horror and shame I am sure is on my face. I'm a fool. Such a fool.
The feel of a callused hand upon mine stops my self-flagellation. I look up, cheeks burning. He is closer to me now, and he's not looking at me with scorn. He's looking at me like he wants to hear what I have to say.
I look away almost as quickly. How can I say anything but truth to those eyes? They could certainly see right through me in any case.
"I'm sorry..." I say finally, taking a deep breath to recover. Maybe telling him is not such a good idea. Maybe he'll laugh at me and scorn me, and then just disappear, as if I never existed.
But... his eyes...
There's honesty in them now. I can see some of what he feels when I look into them. I never could before.
"Don't be sorry," he says, and I can't not look at him when he speaks to me in that voice. "I mean, I owe you a lot. You and Milly, really. More than I could possibly repay." He flushes a little; maybe I'm not the only one struggling for words right now.
I give him my plastic smile, trying to make it look as real as possible. Milly and I. Of course. Of course.
Rue lingers in my voice. "You don't owe us anything."
This time he is the one to look away. It almost hurts when he takes his hand away to grab a fistful of sand and clench it in his fingers. "This is stupid," he says.
I try not to flinch, but I don't think I'm successful. Maybe he didn't notice. "I can leave if you want."
"No, stay," he says, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. All of his practice with hiding his own feelings and now he can't seem to make them known. "I don't mean *this* is stupid, I just mean.I'm doing this all wrong. I spent the whole trek back figuring out what I was going to say when I got back, but now it's all messed up." He loosens his fist and the sand slides between his fingers to the ground.
I shut my eyes tightly. When had I destroyed the peaceful calm in which we had been resting quietly? There is a long moment of silence between us, an achingly huge chasm.
And I begin to hum.
It's soft, very soft, so that only he can hear me. I only want him to hear me. It's an old melody that's been around since.well.since people arrived here, I suspect. I don't know what I'm trying to say, if I'm saying anything at all. I'm incredibly relieved that here's here, alive and whole, and not shot dead somewhere in the desert or fleeing from us in shame. I'm so glad that even with all the revelry occurring elsewhere, he chooses to be here with me. I'm happy that I seem to have his friendship, if nothing else.
I grieve that I can't seem to say any of this. So I hum. After a few moments, he joins me. For a short time, our voices join together to produce something special; or a short time, we're completely in tune. It's beautiful.
It's strange how moments can last forever but then disappear as if they had been nothing at all. That's how this is. All at once, the song is over, his deeper voice lingering threads into the night air. I want to cry. I want to cry and scream and laugh and bleed and hug him and hold him and never let him go.
I do none of these things.
Instead, I remain where I am, silent, my emotions a misty argument inside me. He is looking out towards the moons again, towards the horizon. Then, vaguely, a question perches in my mind, interrupting my chaotic feelings.
What does he see out there?
Maybe he sees his future, endless like the sky seems. Maybe he sees her, that woman he loved with all his heart and still does. Maybe he sees in the night air the hope for the human race that he harbors deep within himself.
But I don't know. So I ask.
"What are you looking at?" I say softly.
"The past," he answers after a considered silence.
"What do you mean?"
"The starlight," he answers. "Light moves faster than anything humanity could ever create or imagine. But the stars that it comes from are so far away that by the time it reaches us, the light only brings reflections of things that happened thousands of years ago."
An ironic smile comes to my lips. "So you're saying that we're essentially surrounded by the past."
He chuckles lightly. "I suppose that's one way to look at it."
My smile fades and is replaced with something more thoughtful. "But. aren't we also surrounded by the future?" Now he turns to look at me, something serious in his eyes, his brow furrowed slightly.
I panic. "I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?" Ah, how love changes a person. Wouldn't I have just hit him before?
"No, not at all," he shakes his head. "I like that, I think. The past.should be remembered. It's important. But I'm starting to realize that you can't hold onto it too tightly or that's all you'll ever have."
Is this really Vash talking? Not the Vash I know, at any rate. Not quite.
I lean a little closer to him, almost worried. "This. is about him, isn't it?"
His eyes narrow ever so slightly, but I see it. He's surprised, but nods slightly, eyes trailing towards the house. "In a way, I suppose. Not only him, though."
"Her too," I say quietly, sure of this at the very least.
He nods. "Her, too. And you."
I blink, a little startled. "And...me?" What about me? There is something new in his eyes. Am I holding my breath? "What... do you mean?"
He gives me a little smile, sweet, and turns his eyes to the fifth moon. "I made a promise to myself on the way back from the desert: I can't run from Knives anymore. I don't need to, now that he's. incapacitated. He'll never hurt a living being again. I'll make sure of that." He sounds determined, and at the same time hopeful. "But it's more than that. For most of my life I've been living with his shadow over my head. Everything he's done can be at least partly blamed on me because I didn't stop him." My heart breaks a little at these words. "I can't think that way anymore," he continues. "What I do in the future won't make up for what I didn't do in the past, but. I've got to start living my life. I can't let myself be surrounded by the past forever. She wouldn't want that.I don't want that."
There is a long moment between us, silence ringing through the night. My voice breaks it hesitantly, quietly. "What exactly are you telling me, Vash- san?"
His eyes turn back to me, luminous. "There are just some chances I can't miss. You only live once, you know."
"Oh?" Very eloquent, Meryl. But he's taken my hand again, holding it between his, and it doesn't matter. "What would those be?"
"Well." He's a little pink now. I can only imagine the expression on my face. "I wanted to say something before I left, but it wasn't the right time then. Not with what I had left to do. But things are going to be okay now and I can't let this slip away again."
I smile, shyly, slowly, nervous. If this is what I think it is, am I ready?
Yes. I'm more ready for this than anything in my life.
Slowly, my hand squeezes his, gently. I am afraid. But also so happy. "It's all right," I whisper, unsure whether I am reassuring him or myself.
"I don't know whether they'll end your assignment now that the Humanoid Typhoon is gone for good," he says, looking very serious now. "I don't even know where we're going to go next. But I do know that.I'd really like you to stay, not because of your assignment."
He takes a deep breath.
"Because I want to be with you."
I can feel my heart beating faster.
"Because I."
I think my cheeks are wet.
"Because I l-"
His lips are soft and warm on mine. I know he's startled, but so am I. How could either of us have known that I was going to kiss him?
But it's sweet, so sweet, and his arms find their way around my waist, holding me. I'm so close to him and I can smell him, that soft gunpowder scent that always lingered on him, but more overwhelmingly, his own smell. I'm trembling maybe, but he tightens his arms. He's kissing back, deeper, holding me so close. I'm going to burst into a million pieces.
I don't think I've ever been happier.
I try and move closer at the same time tries to pull me onto his lap and somehow we topple over onto the sand together. We're both laughing at how silly we must look but not for very long because we're still kissing and I think I might my heart might burst from the joy of it.
"Sempai?" A thin voice from far away is calling me. "Sempai, where are you? It's getting late!"
Reluctantly, I pull myself away from him. His cheeks are a delectable shade of pink. I try not to giggle. That would not be dignified. "Will you come back with me?"
He smiles back, shy. "There's nothing out here anyway for me."
"Good." I kiss him warmly, with love. A promise. Reluctantly, we get out our feet and I hold out my hand. "Ready?"
"Always." He takes it, and something clicks inside of me. This is the way things are meant to be. Side by side, content to be near one another.
Hand in hand, we walk towards the future.
***
Unused titles:
"When Smutsters Go Lame"
"What, No Screwing?"
"Romance as Opposed to Humping"
"Present Tense Presents"
"Vash and Meryl: Still Cute Like Bunnies, but No Humping"
"Ha, Bet You Thought We'd Write About Sex Again"
"Despite Our Names, We Like WAFF Too"
"Insert Pretentious Symbolic Title Here"
"Future Equals Sex, Silly"
"Better Than Other Fics (You Know Which Ones We're Talking About)"
"Dude, Didn't We Have Trouble Coming Up With a Title For the Last Fic? Why Are We Doing This Again??"
"The Night Before the Morning After"
"Beginning the Future (With Macking)"
"Is That Your Tongue In My Mouth?"
"No Sex, Sorry Folks, Nothing to See Here"
"We Betray Our Names"
"I Wanted to Write Smut But Kiri Said No"
"I Am Mean to Poor Jaina"
"Kiri Dislikes Smut, Flame Her"
"HEY!"
"Want Smut? Send Cash"
"We Accept "
"E-mail Us For Info"
"Milly, Have You Ever Had a Threesome?"
"They Couldn't Have Sex in the Desert Because Sand Would Get in Uncomfortable Places"
Kiri: kiri@fushigiyuugi.org
Jaina: lhanson@bgnet.bgsu.edu
