Sorry for the exceedingly long delay, but I've always had troubles when it comes to resolving and ending a story (and Something Right is approaching its ending).
I was reading through some previous chapters, and suddenly a thought hit me: this story could've been so much better if I'd coated it with lots of dramatic irony and several allusions to historical texts!! It would work so WELL! *Cackles insanely*
*Collects self* Ahem. Well, uh, I think Lit class is getting to me. Please excuse me and avert your eyes while I beat myself senseless with this sledge hammer.
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"Wosh!" I shouted. "What's going on? What happened?"
However, he didn't have the opportunity to answer as a sudden burst of energy on Knives' part sent him hurdling toward the ground.
I stood frozen as I watched him fall, a look not fear nor panic, but a sort of resigned acceptance as his body gracefully dove downward through the air. I heard a loud crack as he landed, yet I had no way to know whether it was his neck or his arm that had made the noise. Knives leapt down after him, landing, cat-like, in a crouch.
I froze, torn between running to help Wosh and staying to face Knives first. I chose the latter.
"Why does it always have to come to this, brother?" I asked quietly, looking pleadingly at Knives.
Knives, in contrast to our last face-off, was perfectly calm, and his voice was low and serious when he finally responded.
"I don't know the answer to that," he shook his head "but I don't know any other way it can end. We were not meant to live in this world together. We're too different…or perhaps it's that we're too much the same. There's an old human belief that twins were meant to be one person, one person that was somehow split into two. We're anomalies of the universe, not meant to exist. Maybe when one of us has passed, the other will be able to live as we were meant to."
"It doesn't have to be that way, Knives! If you'd just open your eyes and look around you, you'd realize that the Plants and humans are interdependent! It doesn't have to end in violence!" I felt eyes on me and looked over to see Wosh watching me quietly. I felt loathe to end that brief moment of eye contact for some reason, but I knew I had to keep my eyes on Knives.
"Yes it does, Vash. You know it as well as me. We're both too stubborn in our beliefs. Can you imagine agreeing with me and changing your views completely?"
I understood what he meant. I hated it though. I felt sick. Sick at heart, sick everywhere. I hated this. I loathed that I had to make the same decision time and time again, a decision that had no happy endings. I could let him live, risk the lives of multitudes of humans, including those I was closest to, and maintain my principles, or I could kill Knives and save humans from his wrath forever, and thus denying everything I'd based my principles on.
Twice—no—three times I'd chosen my ideals over human life. It was the coward's way out. It was selfish and childish, and I genuinely hated it, but I was afraid of walking through door number two.
Truth be told, the last time I'd fought Knives, I'd genuinely believed that I could redeem him, that I could change him, but I saw now that that was an impossibility.
I gritted my teeth as I finally accepted the truth.
Knives had to die.
Exactly how that was going to happen, I was not yet sure. Neither of us had guns. The only weapons we had to use against each other were our minds and our own physical ability. I quickly analyzed my opponent, letting my brain stop thinking about whom I was fighting and instead doing an expert examination of what I was fighting, a process I had done countless times.
Knives' main vulnerability was his intolerance for pain. If I could immobilize him that way, I could dispatch him easily through sheer physical strength. However, Knives did have a great advantage over me when it came to mental powers. Mine weak due to disuse. I silently cursed my stubborn determination when it came to not using them. Physical strength would be useless if Knives prevented me from approaching him. Just as I was beginning to despair that I was incapable of winning this fight, I felt a presence inside my head.
You cannot win alone, but you may be able to with my help.
Wosh! I exclaimed. Are you sure you can? How badly injured are you?
I felt him wince mentally. Badly enough that you'll be on your own in the physical arena. But don't worry about me. Listen, I'll be strong enough to diffuse any shield Knives puts up. I might be able to deflect a few attacks as well, but I can't guarantee anything.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to convey a message that could not be properly given mentally. Thank you.
He smiled weakly at me, his face pale and a touch of emotion in his eyes that was hard to place.
Knives snorted. "So you've recruited the help of the little half-breed? Figures. You still won't be able to beat me, though." He rolled up his sleeves and smirked.
Half-breed? I questioned Wosh mentally. He responded with silence.
"Are you ready yet, brother?" Knives sounded impatient.
I turned to face him completely, set my jaw, and pushed away all memories of the brother I'd loved, preparing to never look at them again. In front of me was not my twin brother, only a ruthless murderer of thousands of innocents. I brought to my mind images of Meryl, Milly, Wolfwood, Wosh, and everyone else who had been hurt physically or emotionally by Knives.
"I'm ready." I said quietly.
Knives' expression sobered again. "Then let's begin."
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I paced my apartment, torn, as I always was, when it came to Vash.
I have to go see if he's alright. I have to help him if something happens to him. I have to save him from himself if the idiot does something stupid and reckless.
But he told me to stay here. He did that for my own safety if I get involved, he'll only be angry at me for putting myself in danger.
What if he's wounded and no one's there to help him? What if he needs help fighting?
Vash can take care of himself. When's he actually ever needed my help?
One derringer shot could change the course of a fight. I could make that difference.
He'll probably hate me if I go against what he said and interfere.
I have to. I love him and I couldn't live with myself if he died because I wasn't there.
The second voice quieted and didn't speak again after this comment, so I took it as a good omen and threw on my cloak as I strode out the door.
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Milly couldn't sleep. She had been tossing and turning for almost an hour now and couldn't stand it any more. She sat up in bed and gazed out of the window absently. The day had been eventful to say the least. Meryl…fired from her job. Now there was a thing she thought she'd never witness. Meryl must be distraught. She gradually realized that there were flashes of light coming from an area a few blocks away.
"That's odd, I didn't hear there were supposed to be fireworks tonight…" She murmured.
After a few more moments of watching the flashes, Milly realized that they weren't fireworks at all, but something completely different. Something that filled her with a sense of strange foreboding.
They were coming from the direction of Meryl's apartment.
She got out of bed quickly and slipped on a bathrobe along with a pair of shoes and hurried out of the apartment, wondering all the while at the steadily increasing sense of impending doom she felt.
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Ooo! The ultimate showdown cometh! Will I be an evil, bad person and kill off Knives? Will I find some kind of floofy, cheesy way to get him out of it? Will I kill off some other random character to satiate my desire for blood??? Review and find out next time!