Author's Notes: It just came to me one day after I watched Trigun ep. 24 again... (I had only watched it once, cause it's so sad) That, and I need to get rid of writer's block that is affecting the progress of my HP fic... Er, anyway...I hope all those that read will enjoy this rather short fic (one-shot) and to show that they love it, they will be kind enough to review.

Disclaimer: The characters within the fic do not belong to me. *sobs* They belong to Yashiro Nightow and whoever owns them that I didn't list here. Speaking of which, I'm sure someone has written something similar to this (like someone hasn't conceived this idea). I don't plagiarize fics. I didn't copy this from someone else's work, so if it looks similar, don't email me with a 'You %#^%$&%*-ing copycat' message or something.

Key:

italics -- one's thoughts

bold -- emphasis

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Apology To The Wind Swept Sands

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It took him five years to come here. But it wasn't because he couldn't face what had happened here. At the time, the very event had made him laugh. Once again, a human had died for his sake. But this was no ordinary human who had served him. This human was the only one who had loved him. Knives had denied him of getting any closer.

Even now, he didn't regret the things he had done. He didn't think he ever would. At the moment he was at a stalemate, not looking backwards and not looking forwards. He really didn't see the point of existing now. For all he thought, he should just curl upon the dusty ground and die. No one would notice, no one would care.

That had always upset him. No one did care. No one did notice.

"But you did..." he whispered.

It was too late now and he could not have back which what was taken from him. His own brother had taken him away. And it was his own orders that had set the situation up. Maybe if he'd noticed. Maybe if he'd cared. Maybe then he would still be alive. Maybe then both of them would still feel alive. Knives felt as dead as him. He let himself collapse on the dusty ground and stared at the grave that the wind swept sands had made.

"I'm not going to apologize..." he whispered yet again.

But even coming here, he didn't have to apologize. His actions in coming here in the first place were an apology of their own. If it hadn't mattered, he would not have come here. He would not have bothered to demand that his brother take him to the spot where his most faithful servant had been killed. He would not have bothered to act like his death had even slightly affected him.

But it did.

He'd lost everything and gained nothing. He was merely walking death, soul-less, just as he had been. He frowned, realizing that he'd compared himself to a human. After five long years, he was losing his touch. But was he just a mere human after all? Would he have given a mere human something that had belonged to his brother? No. He was human, yes, but he wasn't just a worthless servant. He was something more, but Knives couldn't exactly figure what. Love perhaps?

Impossible.

How could he love someone, when all he thought about was hate and destroying every living being on the planet? Every living being excluding his brother. To have killed off everyone except him would be pointless. How could he love one, when he hated the rest? Maybe he would have him, but then he could never have his Eden.

Eden or Legato. And he had made his choice five years ago.

He had died so that Knives could achieve his dream. Where he had succeeded in death, Knives had failed in killing off the rest of humanity. He was almost angry that his brother hadn't killed him as well.

He also knew back then that when the time came to purge the world of humans, he would not be able to follow through with killing his most faithful servant. He knew that he would not give a second thought to being killed by him, as he had already known what was coming. Legato had known all humans, including him would die. He didn't know that Knives wouldn't -couldn't- personally kill him.

So he'd made his brother do that for him. How ironic that the only human that Knives couldn't kill, would be the only human that his brother had ever killed. Maybe he had felt something after all. but he had denied himself and Legato of ever furthering it. And Knives would never regret that.

Footsteps behind him brought him back to the present, brought him back to reality. He stared down at the ground, letting his fingertips brush the sand that had long since buried his servant's body.

"We have to get going," Vash said, breaking the silence between the two.

"I don't want to leave," Knives replied.

"You've been here all morning."

Knives didn't reply. He continued to stare at the ground with sudden great interest. He didn't want to leave here. Couldn't he lay down and wait patiently as the sands covered him? No one would see him. No one would care. No one would notice. Not anymore, at least.

Vash stepped forward and sat down next to Knives, "I'm sorry."

"What can you be sorry about?" Knives sneered.

"He -you- made me do it. I didn't want to. And now that I think about it, neither did you."

"What's done is done. He served his true purpose."

"But you loved him, didn't you?" Vash continued, "Where I wasn't, he always was. That's what he told me before... And I know he loved you, whether you ever realized it."

"I know."

"So did you?"

"Did I what?" Knives asked impatiently.

"Love him?"

"No."

Vash stayed silent, while Knives continued on.

"If I did, he'd be alive now."

But...I do love him now, even though he is gone. Even though it's too late. But I'm the only one who notices you now. I'm the only one who cares about you anymore. Just like you did for me.

...I'm sorry.

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Author's Notes: I can't really write this kind of stuff without having a zillion contradictions within the weiting. Sorry about that. I wrote it all in one sitting, and it's bad enough. If I'd written little pieces at different times, this fic would have never seen the light of day.

Poor Legato. *sob-sob-sob* I only wish he and Knives had hit it off. Legato would have lived then, I'm sure. ^_^v Reviews, anyone?