Day 103
Despite himself, he is rather excited about today. His wounds are healing, slower than would have been hoped for, but healing none the less. He suspects his recovery time was put back by his prolonged bout of apathy last month. Not to mind, he is doing well now and soon expects to have a little movement back in his limbs.
Today, after his brother changes his bandages once again, he will be able to eat his own food, clasp the spoon in his own hand and put it to his mouth.
It might not seem much for many people, but to him it is a sign of the return of independence, the first tentative steps to freedom, to pride, to being himself again.
His brother, however, is rather subdued. Not that he could have expected anything less; Vash is not so naive that he does not worry about what he will do when fully recovered.
Things have been quiet since their last argument, Vash is obviously still rather annoyed at his words, not that Knives had expected, or even wanted, anything less. Causing Vash eternal suffering may be impossible at the moment, but little irritation is still easily within Knives' reach. It'll just have to suffice for a while.
For his part, he tries to forget Vash's words, tries to forget the accusations but the parting shot but, like a bullet lodged in bone, it irritates him.
He finds himself metaphorically scratching it, further irritating the notion. Did Legato really love him? Was he right to- no. No, of course he was right. He must be, he is the superior being, he had worked out the logic before, he was right. How could he not be?
Yet… yet… why was Vash doing this? Why was Vash trying to save him, healing him, if not for himself? Why?
He watches mutely as Vash starts to unwind the bandages around his chest and shoulders. He winces as scabs come away with gauze, as fresh air hits his suffocating skin. Slowly, carefully, each bandage is undone, fresh, red and white skin appears, his wounds are once again revealed. They've been stitched, but the edges are knotting together, new skin is forming, soon the sutures can be removed.
Knives frowns, this is not the way he usually healed himself. Back on the SEEDS ship it had been like this, he had repaired his body in much the same way as the other humans, he'd known no better. But a bit of experimentation later, on GunSmoke, had proved that there were more effective ways of doing things. Always a fast healer, he'd used his abilities, his inner power, to heal his body at a tremendous rate, eliminating wounds and preventing scarring. Larger, more serious wounds required different attention. That had been proved after Vash had shot him with the Angle Arm. He'd had to go to another Plant to have that healed. He'd stayed a Regeneration Camber, powered by another Plant, for years, slowly healing himself, keeping himself alive. That, he recalled, had been a close thing, only his own kinship with Vash had saved him from becoming so much dust on the landscape. How long had it been before he'd been able to go out again? Twenty, thirty, fifty years? The passage of time mattered little when one was in hibernation. A blessing, thirty plus years of boredom would have been more than he could stand.
And even when he'd managed to become whole again he'd been far from powerful. Shamed as he was to admit it, without the help of Legato he would have been lost.
As it was, he had very few scars upon his body. A couple, small marks from his SEEDS days, courtesy of Steve, and one upon his leg. The place where Vash had first shot him. He'd kept that one as a reminder.
This time, however, he did not have the energy to heal himself completely; the wounds were too serious for that. Perhaps if he had access to another Plant he might have been able to do something, but as it was they were sure to scar.
He barely suppresses the shiver which runs up and down his spine, reminded of all the scaring upon his brother's body. Those horrible mutilations, the pain they symbolised, how humanity had tortured his sibling.
It bothers him enough that his perfect skin will be marred after this, the reminder of Vash's own mutilation… that is far worse.
It's like comparing the wounds of a tiger attack to the wounds caused by a torturer's knife.
'How can you do it?' mutters Knives to himself, forgetting momentarily that Vash is still with him, cleaning his wounds.
'Do what?' he asks.
'Protect the humans; after all they have done to you?'
Vash roles his eyes, he's heard this more than once before.
'No, really,' repeats Knives, and there's an element of earnestness in his voice, of honest curiosity which pricks at Vash's ears, 'how can you? Look what they've done to you? Look what they've done to each other. I know you're an idiot, brother, I know your sentimental but tell me, honestly, tell me that you've never felt angry at them? Tell me you've never thought I was right? Not once?'
Vash pauses, his eyes become unfocused, distant as if he looks into the past, remembering different times, considering his answer.
'Yes,' he says at last, 'I'm not perfect, there have been times when I wonder… when part of me thinks that death might be the better option. I've never despaired of the entire human race, Knives, not really. Though I've been tempted…'
'Then why don't you follow it?' urges Knives, painfully pushing himself up off the bed with his elbows, 'you have the power, Vash. I gave you the power. You could wipe them all out, you could join me and we could make things better. We could make Eden, Vash; we could save all the butterflies!'
'I've often thought that,' mutters Vash and he gazes at his hand, his real, flesh and blood hand. '1.5 centimetres,' he says at last, talking as if to himself, 'that's how far I've got to move my finger (1). To fire a gun, I mean. 1.5 centimetres and I can end a life. Can change the world. You know, there are a lot of bad people out there, for 1.5 centimetres I could make Eden. It's not far, really. Yeah, I'd loose Rem, but I might gain you, I might find some peace, at just 1.5 centimetres.'
'So do it,' whispers Knives, excitement rushing through his body, feeling for the first time in a long while that he's finally getting through his brother's thick skull, his hypocritical idealism, his cloying sentimentality.
Vash continues to watch his hand for a while, fascinated by its tapering fingers, weathered skin, the groves, and gullies of its lines, the mountains of the fingernails. Then smiles gently and gently shakes his head, returning his eyes to his recumbent brother.
'Nah,' he says.
'Why not?' this is fairly a screech.
'Well, for one, I don't think I'd like it that way. I mean, the greatest places I've been to have been great not because I where they are, but because of the people in them. People make Eden for me, Knives. They say hell is other people, but I think heaven is too, you know? Even the bad ones can change, and when they do you get a step closer to Eden. Besides, it's too easy. I think that the longer the journey the better the destination gets to be! At 1.5 centimetres Eden isn't very far at all, so it can't be that good. There are many paths to Eden, Knives.'
'I don't believe this!' the white haired plant shrieks, 'this coming from you, YOU! You were the one constantly asking when we were going to get there! You're the most impatient creature I know! You've been travelling all your life, you fool! For over a century you've been wandering round humans and you haven't even come close! It's pathetic! You're in hell if anything; you've had people cut chunks out of you! For God's sake, you've been looking for Eden for over a hundred years!'
'Yeah, I know,' sighs Vash sadly, then he looks up and his eyes twinkle merrily, 'guess that means, when I get there, it's gonna be really AWSOME!'
'I don't believe this,' mutters Knives again, lying back down upon his pillow and contemplating the ceiling, 'I don't believe even you could be so stupid…'
'Awww, what can I say?' chuckles his brother, standing up and making a dramatic pose, 'I'm but a hunter of peace, chasing the mayfly of lo- OUCH!'
This last exclamation is caused by Knives, who throws a rolled up yard of bandages at his face, striking him squarely in the nose.
'Just finish up and get out,' he growls.
Vash grins sheepishly and obeys, obviously in no mood to rile him further.
Knives, meanwhile, raises his eyes once more to the heavens, 'of all the creatures in this universe,' he mummers, 'why did I have to have him as a brother?'
(1) I don't own Vash's gun, nor am I completely aware of the measurements involved. This is just a rough guess. If it's wrong (which in all probability it is) then I sincerely apologise.
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Reader Replies!
Oooh, lots and lots of new readers! Hi guys!
Silverarm: Heh, the Vash/Legato angle is an interesting one to explore, because Legato, more than any other character, seems to be designed for Vash to hate. He's absolutely the opposite of everything Vash believes in, even more so than Knives in a way. I think that's why Knives sent him after Vash, to teach Vash how to hate humans, even just one human, and from that to learn to kill. Cunning no? I'm glad you liked me covering this angle, anyway.
Ron the Future Weasel: Oh wow, talk about a good reviewer! Feel free to share this story, the more the merrier! And it's great to have you aboard! Nice theory about the present tense style. When I think about it I suppose I chose the style because it meant I could both tell this story from Knives' point of view, and get very much inside his head, but keep that… strangeness about him. This kind of style lends a definite feeling to a story… I think it works. Anyway, your wonderful comments are really welcome, they honestly are, and it's great to know I've got the dialogue right. Please keep on commenting!
Calumongal: Oooh, another new reviewer! Thanks for the complement, and yep, that's how to spell Knives' but thanks for confirming. Glad you like the descriptive work in this. I'm usually not so good on that side, but I think I'm improving. I hope I'll see you reviewing the next chapter!
Angelstryke: Well, I'll probably be posting a chapter every two or three days, so long as a) I get reviews and b) nothing goes wrong with FFN and/or my internet access. I'm glad you liked the 'better home comment,' I rather like writing mean Knives! And yeah, I know that the * comment wasn't ALL that bad, but I was just covering my butt. This is one of the longest stories I've ever written, and I didn't want it to be tossed off FFN because some mother's little boy Tommy had read it and asked what the * was or something. You know? Better safe than sorry. I'm gland no one seems to have had a problem with it, though.
Aio: Thanks for the link! It works now and hell, what a neat picture! Knives looks very young in it though doesn't he? I'm glad this has some of the same views and stuff, I did a lot of reading and research for this, considering all different opinions, trying to get to know the characters even more. I would comment on the love thing, but to be honest my opinion on it is all within this story, so you're going to have to keep on reading! As mentioned before, this fic basically is about their relationship, and the question of their Love will be resolved at the end… or something like that anyway. I'll say one thing, though, no matter how you look at it, those two do have a love/hate relationship, the question is… which is stronger? And for whom?
AnonymousTrigunOtaku: Um… would you mind if I called you ATO? It's be a lot simpler for future review replies? Anyway, thanks for the complements. I was actually going for badly written and unintelligent but heck, you can't have everything! J I'm also glad the Legato part went down well… I had a feeling that might attract a few readers.
Please keep reviewing!
FlipKat: Oooh, nice to see you've joined the fabulous world of Fanfiction! Even nicer to see that you like mine! I try to write as well as I can, and keep things original. I'm far from the best out there, though, which means that you've got some good stuff ahead of you! If you want any suggestions as to any good Trigun fanfic, give me an E-mail! And please, please, please keep on reviewing!
Well, that's it for now guys, please stay tuned, the next chapter should be a dramatic one. And don't stop reviewing!