Disclaimer: dido as before- I don't own Trigun

A/N: I had this written awhile back I just took a long time getting it up. I'm starting to have a vague idea of where this is going but it may be put off just a tad longer just for me to wait for the next Trigun volume to come out (manga wise)

I have been moved. Though it is not as amazing at it sounds at first. There is little to tell of the matter; only that I was taken out of my cage and placed into another, blindfolded as I went, hands tied behind my back. Perhaps it sounds silly now, for a way for him to treat anything like me, but therein lies the reason I believe. Oddly, the thing that was the most unusual about the whole experience was that he did not come. He was not the one who moved me.

It makes me wonder who it was who brought me here in the first place. I wonder why I cannot remember…

Either way regardless, Knives did not come. Instead he sent Wolfwood, for surely anyone who is here, whether they wish it or not, are under Knives orders. That made it all seem that much more absurd.

Now as I write this, I am curious if you, my indisposed listener, wonder why it was I did not attempt escape. Nothing was tied tightly and Knives was not there. The absolute truth is that I did not think of it; how could I have? Ah, then why do I write of it, as if I have now thought of it? But that is another matter.

My new cage seems less like one than my previous one. It is open, very wide at the top. There is greenness everywhere, prickly but easily bent when I sit or lay in it, surrounded by tall dark shapes that bend over like hunched backs. They rise far over my head, and there are twelve in all, enclosing the large sward of greenness.

I have attempted to explore these odd dark spaces. I do not know why…perhaps because there was never much more to explore in the other room…

Hardly any of them go anywhere, leading only into hard, cold stone or steel of some kind. Though it is cold, it always feels smooth to my touch and slightly warm as if it is more than just metal. It is not uncomfortable, and I find myself uncommonly calmed by the touch of it.

Only one of them led to anywhere more. A small oval room, reminisce of the design of the previous rooms, only instead of bookshelves there is an expanse of green, and instead of a small, round room dripped in the colors of bloods this one is made of cool colors. The bed is smaller than the last one, more square than oval, stuck in the middle of the room. There are other odd objects as well. I cannot fathom what they are but I will try to describe them.

Along the far wall is a low shelf, completely white that stretches halfway across. Neatly arranged are many small round dots, like little circles. Some are larger than others, some are barely noticeable, while they all appear to be in a formatted order of long rows and smaller columns. They do not do much, are merely there. Mostly the circles are silver, a few are black and some are a yellow-ish white or red. I have stared at them for a long time and still do not understand.

Underneath where an even lower shelf lies, is a mismatch of objects I cannot even begin to understand. They appear mostly metal and are cold when I touch them. There is a soft blue blanket among the oddities. There are also boxes, tiny containers that have no labels and are too tight for me to open. (Imagine, I actually attempted to try and open one. Aah, things are certainly changing.)

And that is all there is.

I thought I would have been more upset about losing my books, but the atmosphere is entirely more pleasant than the last, peaceful and calming. I find I am not as sad or as worried as I once was, nor do I feel as tired. A vibrancy lives in this place, a kind of unheard humming of a powerful voice that fills the senses but leaves them surprisingly contented. If this is where I am to have my child, I am glad.

Oh, about the other matter I mentioned. I would never dream of escaping, for where would I go? No, as I have already said, I was not the one who thought of it. It was Wolfwood who first said it. I don't know why he did, but he asked me about it last night, the first question he had ever really spoken to me, maybe the first conversation he had ever started.

By then I had been here for almost a week, and I had not written in you since last time. The reason being, I had forgotten to bring you with me. It seems odd to tell a book that, but at least I can say it to someone. It seems that was why Wolfwood came. I do not know how he ever found it, or more importantly why he brought it. I can only image Knives allows it to amuse me. Or perhaps he does not even know I have it. But that makes the entirety of it even stranger.

Whatever the cause, Wolfwood brought you to me and I was delighted. I am…puzzled at my happiness at your return, if that's what it was. There are so many feelings I do not understand, many of them moving so irregularly, an inconstant swell that I can't quite ever grasp.

I remember in some far remote part of my mind, a gentle voice telling me about the changes that occur with babies. I don't now remember any those changes, but some part of me, some instinctive edge, cannot help but feel that there are changes happening but not the kind you would expect.

But I hardly know what I am speaking of.

Hmm.

There seems to be so little I do not understand. I wonder if I ever will? About all I can understand clearly, is that I am with child and I won't leave the child's side.

I feel as if I must speak of something, of some deep…thing…writhing inside me, a growing change. It's not the baby, it's something else…

There's something happening, something about this place – I just wish someone would tell me, but who would? I am not sure what to do…