Disclaimer: Trigun is mine ahahahahaha!!!! Always wanted to say that! Hold on... Trigun isn't mine anymore, it's back where it belongs... damn -_-

Chapter Four: Knives Stays Up Late


I lie in bed awake at night
And wonder what went wrong or even more just what went right.
The Ataris- The Last Song I Will Ever Write About A Girl

Despite the woman's pleasant blessing, Knives and sleep were far from each other that night. He lay there watching her as she lay upon the bed, with only her deep breathing and the silvery moonlight filtering in from the small window as company in his misery. The only other sound besides his breathing was her own; and he relished in the silence. Dropping his head to rest on his arms he listened to her breath even out until many seconds passed between each breath and he was certain she slept. Rising silently he stepped to her bedside and dropped to his knees, watching her as she breathed in her sleep, inhaling the dancing dust particles in the stale cell air. It was the sleep of innocence, Knives realized. Her brow was clear of any lines, her breath even and confident. She slept with the assurance that no harm would come to her while she slept. He glared at her all the while and hated her for it

For a moment he dwelt upon smothering her; or perhaps choking her in her sleep. Yet he thought it best not to and to solve this mystery. He was truly intrigued by this woman, and he intended to get to the bottom of the mysteries that lay enclosed in her mind.

Feeling somewhat defeated, Knives slunk back to the wall and rested his chin on his chest. He felt vulnerable and insecure at this revelation that had hit him like a wintry breeze in the heat of summer. So many things he had done that were so unlike him; so many reasons to doubt himself fell upon him as he sat in the dimly lit room, contemplating his own fate and that of his captive. He should have killed her the moment he had laid his eyes upon her, he knew this. Yet her mystery had been too tempting to leave in a fashion such as that, and his curiosity had bettered him. So many small things plagued him in a guilt-like fashion he was most unaccustomed to feeling. Why had he placed her in the bed, instead of simply dumping her to the clod floor like the human trash she was? He had allowed her so many luxuries, he fumed, gazing at her as she slept with an expression that paled the darkness of the room.

Knives sat silently and pondered the vermin. She seemed so sure of herself; so confident in her words and her actions that no harm would come to her. Well, he sneered at her still form, she certainly would learn the err of her ways soon enough. Yet again he was drawn to wonder why he hadn't taught her any respect. No mortal vermin had ever challenged him the way she had, not even Rem herself. She had stood pacifistically by and only offered advice, never giving direct orders nor speaking in a direct manner. Only in an offhanded way that led one to wonder of the meaning in her words and to find enlightenment within. Enlightenment that he despised with his entire being; hate for her words and theories, which pulsed in his always-beating heart and coursed through his immortal veins. He would hate her forever and he hated this woman who dared to stand before him and proclaim herself to be his equal.

She moved in her sleep, bringing him out of his dark thoughts to meet with her equally dark form, silhouetted silver in the moonlight. Her hair spilled over the pillow in a dark waterfall, her eyes quivered in her dreams, her hands clutched at the thin blanket that covered her as she slept. He felt Goosebumps rise on his flesh at that moment, regarding her in her warmth and comfort. And why should she, he growled, rising silently to her side. He reached out and for a moment his fingertips hovered above her face, felt the warmth that radiated out from her, her warm breath and the rising and falling of her chest. For a moment he longed to touch her, to rest his fingertips upon her skin just to ensure that she was truly there before him. He had spent so many years enveloped in a blanket of seclusion that he had nearly forgotten how it felt to be in the presence of another, even though she was human. In his mind he chided himself for thinking so; he had simply softened slightly from the years of solitude he had been forced to endure, he concluded, entwining the material in his hands. Pulling it from her he watched it fall from the bed to the floor at his feet like the apple in the Recreation Room of the Seeds ship had so many years ago. He smiled a little as he went back to the wall, wrapping the blanket around himself. Knives' chin dropped to his chest in fatigue, and he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed. He opened his eyes and looked up at the vermin, who had shifted slightly and was now laying in a fetal position, her arms wrapped tightly around her legs, holding them close. Knives' superior vision could see the skin on her bare flesh stand up against the cold, and couldn't help smiling, despite his sleepiness.

This would only be the beginning of her hardships. He would give her no more, grant her no more frivolity and would finish with her in the morning. He would get to the bottom of this mystery and be done with her burden.

Yes, he concluded with a tired smile as his lids fell again over his eyes, which ached to sleep as she so did. She knew not whom she dealt with, or whom she had angered. Tomorrow she would find out. Tomorrow Knives would prove to her and to himself his utter superiority over her and all her kind and his will would not crumble as it had done so many times during the daylight hours. Tomorrow all of this would be over and done with, and he could go back to his quiet solitude and lay in wait for the day he could fall again upon the world. Tomorrow….