Knives ran. On the outskirts of town, a rock formation stood tall, casting a shadow that shielded wildlife from the suns. He leaned against it, drinking from his canteen as he recuperated. His platinum blond hair, longer than he was comfortable with, slumped over his forehead and clung to it.

It wasn't the first time he ran for miles, and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Knives Millions lifted a steady hand to his wet hair, acknowledging the evidence of his exhaustion, and determining if he should complete another lap around New Oregon before returning home. He then pulled his legs in and rested his elbows on his knees, leaving his forearms to dangle between them as he observed the town in the distance.

Knives spent his morning running because of the intense argument he and Vash had before his brother left for work. It first began when Vash had overwatered Knives' plants and gradually veered into a fierce dispute about their morals, philosophies, and motivations that Knives was unsure if he even followed completely anymore—not entirely.

Knives patted his neck with a moist cloth then rested it on his shoulder. He heaved a final breath before standing after covering his soaked tank top with his coat. The canteen jumped against his abdomen as he returned to the town, where humans were beginning their morning routines.

An uneventful Thanksgiving had passed, and the people of New Oregon were now preparing for Christmas. Vash had restored the SEEDS ship's recreation rooms and learned how to grow crops using his talents, and eventually nurtured and donated Christmas trees at the beginning of the month. The colorful, reflective surfaces of the hanging decorations wrapped or hung to countless trees gave the town an engaging view.

He appeared confident, with his piercing blue eyes and impassive expression, but his heart raced whenever a human neared. It had taken him weeks to become accustomed to wandering the town whenever he chose, which wasn't often. In their first house, furthest from most humans in New Oregon, he had to venture through a block of the town to reach the desert, but now he had to travel into the city to arrive at the gates on the newly constructed wall; bandits and other vermin were the motives for the construction project. Such threats had gotten Vash into more trouble than Knives was comfortable with.

When he neared the front door to their new two-story house, Knives hesitated and listened. He then nonchalantly glanced over his shoulder and narrowed his eyes at an alleyway.

'There,' a high pitch voice thought, 'almost looks just like the wanted poster! Vash the Stampede!'

Knives turned from the door and stalked toward the alley nearby, his posture excellent and his strides even. He was entertained by the startled mental voice he overheard, but when the wannabe bounty hunter pointed a gun at him.

Knives halted and scowled at the imbecile. 'You're very fortunate I made a promise to my brother, garbage.' Knives' voice spat venom. 'You never saw me and my brother here. You recall seeing Vash the…' He rolled his eyes at his brother's name. 'Vash the Stampede in July City. Go there.'

"I… Yeah! Yeah! Vash the Stampede was in July recently, right?!"

Knives watched the human turn the corner into the alleyway, hopefully never to be seen again. He then groaned, rubbing his temple.

This was the seventh time this week someone had mistaken him for Vash. Knives had increased the range of his telepathy, altered the crashed ship's previous residences' memories regarding his brother, and not only did he have to overhear hundreds of voices, but he'd also prevent Vash from sensing his influence. Even if his brother understood why he often invaded the populace's private thoughts, he would demand Knives stop his efforts in protecting him.

Knives reached into his coat pocket for his pair of keys and opened the door to a decorated house. Stryfe and Vash had argued over how the tree was to be decorated, so when Vash lost the argument pathetically, he brought two trees home. Hanging from the mantle were stockings Stryfe had crafted herself and even stitched their names in near-perfect cursive.

Before taking a shower, Knives visited his garden, and when he entered the backyard, he knelt beside his apple tree. Its height was comparable to Stryfe—he named it after her just to spite the vexing woman—and it even held ripe red apples. On the other hand, his grapevines were wilting slightly, and he dealt with the complications accordingly.

A shower, even though Knives intentionally kept them brief, was supposed to be a time of complete tranquility, but he sighed when he felt his brother's presence nearing the house.

'Why have you returned earlier than usual?' Knives sent as he dried himself.

'Uh, I got a surprise for you! An early Christmas present!'

After the fight they had, Knives was surprised Vash wanted to converse at all.

Donning his custom SEEDS uniform, Knives descended the stairs and watched Vash tuck additional presents under Stryfe and Thompson's tree, which was decorated in white and green; the other was blue and red. Vash straightened his back and presented Knives' wrapped gift, a wide, welcoming grin on his face. The Plant skeptically raised a brow before feeling the contents through the wrapping. It felt oddly familiar… Pieces of…

"Taffy," Knives said as he continued pressing his thumbs into the present.

"I knew I should've stuffed it in a box."

Knives scoffed, and then he opened the bag of sweets through the wrapping paper.

Vash rubbed the back of his neck. "They're selling them again for Christmas. I thought you'd like some more again."

Knives gave a sharp nod of approval before turning toward the stairs to retreat into his room.

"Hey, wait!"

Knives stiffened at Vash's sudden firm grip on his shoulder, and then followed his brother's arm to his concerned face.

"I'm sorry about this morning."

Knives' shoulder relaxed. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I-I do." Vash dropped his arm. "I shouldn't have brought all that up… I just…"

Knives faced his brother and noticed he had to look down from where he stood on the stairs. He ignored the odd sense of pride he felt from simply standing above his brother. "I held a grudge against you for over a century, Vash. It's not surprising that you've kept some against me as well."

"We…" Vash ran a hand through his spiked hair. "During the years we traveled together after landing here, we never talked about these things—not like this. I felt like I lost my brother, and whenever I tried to find him, this stranger kept pushing me away. We keep ignoring them—pretending our mistakes never happened. We need to really talk about things…"

Despite living among humans, and countless periods of deep contemplation, Knives still hadn't felt a moment of guilt for his actions toward humanity as a whole. During the Great Fall, he had only witnessed ships crashing into the planet and never grew attached. He had remained in his ships for the majority of his life—especially when Legato found the Gung-Ho Guns while he recovered in a bulb. That detachment had made it easy to maintain his resolve and justify his actions.

It was logical… It was...

Knives reflected on his behavior toward his brother.

"What's there to discuss, Vash? I murdered the crew, hacked into the system, and caused the Great Fall. What should I say?"

Vash whimpered, staggering away from his brother with a look of dread. "Wh—what! You make it sound like it was some walk in the recreation room!"

Knives' brows furrowed as he decided to avoid the subject entirely. He began ascending the steps.

"Knives! What about me?!" Vash lowered his eyes when Knives stopped. "I was scared back then… I… I was alone. I didn't want to give up on you, but… You wanted me to kill people knowing how much Rem meant to me—you said so on the escape pod. Then, you kept trying to kill people, but I stopped you every time. You sent people to kill me. I thought my brother really wanted me dead." Knives winced and Vash continued.

After they battled years ago at the geo-plant, Knives planned to never allow himself to be manipulated or conditioned by his brother. He opposed Vash's words and actions as he was confined in a house, but... the skeptic Plant had lost, although he never admitted to it. The ferocious resolution to fight his brother gradually dissipated when Vash had simply hoped for Knives to listen then after speaking, he'd be freed.

And Knives had listened.

It had taken weeks before Knives conceded and attempted to endure the necessary evil that was humanity to have his brother by his side, but eventually, Knives had affirmed that he stood by Vash's side instead of the other way around.

"I wanted you to suffer…" Knives began. "I wanted you to experience the cruelties inflicted upon you by humanity—I knew they would," he admitted in a soft voice, lowering his eyes to stare at the wall. He continued through telepathy. 'The first time I shot my Angel Arm at you during our last gunfight, I had planned to sever your legs with my energy and imprison you in a bulb. Then, the Angel Arms were impulsively aimed to kill before you shot them with that cross." Knives released a humorless laugh, dryer than the desert. 'I thought you were finally going to kill me when you aimed your Long Colt at me.' He lowered his arms awkwardly at his sides. 'I feared that you had learned much from Legato's death before you shot my arm and… I thought you were going to leave me the way you did after July.'

Vash's eyes became dull and empty for a moment before he raised his downcast eyes. "I… I'm sorry. I—"

"You really don't listen, Vash." Knives scowled at the stairs, gritting his teeth at the memories of Vash's betrayals, but then he recalled everything he had done to his brother, his clenched fists slacked.

"Maybe it's just…" Vash paused for a moment. "We just can't understand the magnitude of the damage that happened because of our mistakes… If you think about it, what else can we do about our pasts?"

"What else can we do…" Knives glanced down at the stairs.

A soft smirk curved Vash's lips. "The only thing we can do is to learn from our past…" A crease appeared between his brows. "If you start killing again, Knives, I'll stop you."

"I gave you my word, Vash. Only if it's necessary."

"Just don't give me a reason to shoot you again."

"Hm, at least you've improved your aim since the first time." And with that, Knives ascended the rest of the stairs.

He reached his room and pulled the chair to sit at his desk. On top was his computer, powered by the Plants of the crashed SEEDs ship, alongside the bag of taffy and the parts of a music box he nearly finished. He rubbed the slight dark circles under his eyes left by late nights of contemplation and began tinkering with the music box.

There was a pain in his chest—he couldn't occupy his mind enough to disregard it.

He set the tools down and began reading an ancient copy of Moby Dick, but the stinging pain persisted in damaging his heart—almost impossible to ignore. The final task to rid himself of the internal pain was to complete a rigorous exercise routine he had subjected himself to for decades. He couldn't for two decades after what had occurred in July, but as soon as he was able, he eventually trained to looked the epitome of vigor.

He was panting, and when his body began trembling under its own weight after hours of rigorous activities, he fell onto his bed, burying his face in his pillow. Right when he began to lose consciousness from exhaustion, his thoughts ran wild. Whether as a consequence of his state of being on the verge of slumber, he spoke words only his twin could ever hear.

'I'm... sorry."

Knives was unsure how many hours had passed since he fell asleep, but when his eyes fluttered open, the artificial lights burned and he quickly shut them. He then pressed his head into the pillow, pulling the covers over himself. He then had to use his telepathy as a safety precaution since he was unsure of his brother's whereabouts. He listened to countless thoughts and found Vash, who Knives discovered was a few blocks away.

Why was he straining himself? Vash hadn't been killed by the Gung-Ho Guns, the best killers among the humans. He didn't require protection. Still, based on his lackeys' reports, better to be cautious than not when it came to his brother's spontaneous nature. Humans were deceptive and, although weak, could and had surprise his twin.

Knives reluctantly pulled his legs over the edge of the bed and sat upright. He cracked his bones and rid himself of a few knots here and there. He stood and went to drink from a flask he brought to his room so he could avoid the kitchen.

'Knives?' someone whispered, 'you awake?'

Knives sighed at straining himself further with telepathy, but for his brother, he'd endure. 'What is it?'

'I'm coming back. Could you set up a few shot glasses? We're celebrating!'

Knives tightened his eyes shut and grimaced at the sudden shouting. 'Lower your voice! I can hear you clearly!'

'Okay, okay. Sorry.'

'Consider it done.' Knives severed the connection and reluctantly made his way to the kitchen.

When Vash returned with, not surprisingly, a box of a dozen donuts, Knives sat at the table with the glasses set.

"Why exactly are we celebrating?" Knives asked, elbows on the table, chin propped on his hands.

"Us!" Vash set the warm box beside the glasses and entered the kitchen.

"Oh? Have you finally accepted that we are a superior breed among the—"

"No!" Vash set a new bottle of vodka on the table, one of the strongest on the market, and poured himself and Knives shots. 'We actually talked about our problems after so long! You not only apologized to me, you already did so to Milly about Wolfwood!'

Knives' face contorted and he eyed the shot with disgust. He then recalled what he sent Vash before sleeping. 'You don't even know what the apology was for!'

Vash gripped the glass and jerked his head back so suddenly Knives could've sworn he heard his neck snap. He then proceeded to gulp the shot in one go to then slam the glass, cracking the base.

'Nope, but it's a start! Thank you.'

"You have work tomorrow."

"Yeaaaah, but I asked the Doc to give me the rest of the week off until the 26th. He'll need my help with preparing for the Plant the city bought and will instill late next year."

Knives felt the urge to toss the glass' contents at his brother's cheeky smile and return to his room, but when he raised his eyes, he noticed Vash's smile turned genuine. He sighed and raised the glass to examine the liquid sloshing inside.

One. Shot. It was the least Knives could do for his brother during the holidays.

Unfortunately, it wasn't just one shot.

Sometime later, the front door opened and the insurance girls returned.

"If I wouldn't lose my job, I'd kick Kevin's—" Stryfe paused. Before either one could announce their arrival, they froze, staring at the scene before them.

"C'mon! I—Winning!" Vash slurred as he attempted to down another shot, but his glass had been empty for some time.

"No! Y...You—You're not!" Knives roared, and then he snatched the bottle, taking a generous drink before handing it to his brother. "I-I'm a… I'm the superior one be—between us!" He jabbed a thumb into his chest for emphasis.

"Mr. Knives, Mr. Vash, you two are drinking without me!" Thompson whined and hung her coat on the rack before taking a seat beside Knives.

Vash balanced himself in his seat and set the bottle on the table. He attempted to pour another shot, but Knives grabbed Vash's glass and set it before Thompson. While Vash sat stunned, Knives proceeded to pour shots for himself and Thompson.

"Hey, why did you steal my glass?!" Vash demanded.

"Th...is'll place you at a d-d...disadva… I'm three shots ahead of you… After this." Knives raised his chin as a sign of superiority and downed the shot, and Thompson giggled before doing the same.

Vash wobbled in his seat but remained patient as his brother poured himself another shot. Before Knives could firmly grasp it, Vash snatched it and drank.

"Ok, that's enough," Stryfe said authoritatively, tapping a foot and crossing her arms. "Save some for the rest of us and stop spreading Plant germs everywhere." She yanked the vodka bottle from Knives, who resisted moments after it left his grasp.

"But Meryl, don't you like Mr. Vash's Plant germs?"

Both men froze, one of them too drunk to completely process what was happening. Vash smirked at Stryfe and stood before her, his body swaying side to side. She glared at Thompson, who smiled brightly at the rare sight of a drunken Knives.

"I—I think Knives had enough…" Vash palmed his face and began rubbing his cheeks. "He win."

"I…" Knives' vision blurred, resembling a shimmering stream. "Of course I d-did."

Thompson took everyone's shot glasses to the sink and brought the men water. For Knives, she filled one of his wine glasses with the precious liquid. She set them down and chose a pink donut from the box Vash brought, which was left undisturbed for a while.

"Mr. Vash, you haven't eaten any yet."

"N-Nooope. Thirsty." The outlaw shook his head before chugging his water. "Aaaah, I'm alive again!"

Even under the influence of alcohol, Knives held onto the stem of the wine glass and took steady sips. When he realized it contained water, he drank plentifully until it was empty. Thompson went to refill their glasses once again.

"Here, Lord Knives ," Stryfe handed Knives an envelope, and the Plant raised his brows before narrowing them.

"I jus' got paid."

Stryfe snorted at his un-Knivesness voice and placed the envelope on the table. "It's a Christmas party invitation from the chief at Bernardelli."

"Why would—"

"A party!" Vash dragged the envelope across the table and lifted it to his face to examine the lettering closely. "Why does Knives get invited to these things? He's a party pooper!"

Knives prepared to retort, but he sunk back into his seat when Thompson set his glass down. In truth, he'd admit to himself that he wasn't enthusiastic about such nonsense. He had learned that during his first birthday, and he was reminded of it when Legato had attempted to celebrate his birthday while Knives was regenerating in a bulb. Even for the past few years, Knives avoided the birthday parties Vash planned. Now, Knives wondered if he'd still be as resistant to such an occasion. He wasn't coordinated enough at the moment to judge thoroughly.

"Wow, you sobered up already," Stryfe commented, standing beside the outlaw on his chair.

"Uh, no…"

"Mr. Knives, it's okay if you can't handle drinking well."

"Isn't he a superior being?" Stryfe whispered to Vash.

"I can hear you…" Knives massaged his forehead. Although his vision remained distorted, he could comprehend their conversation. "Water is a significant factor in aiding us with our recovery from certain ailments, such as those caused by toxins—alcohol." Even so, Knives still felt nauseous and he clenched his teeth as if that would prevent him from retching.

"Are you going or not?"

Knives dropped his hand on the table and raised his fatigued gaze at the insurance woman.

"Fine. There'll be too many people anyway." Stryfe shrugged.

Vash shouted, "I'll go!"

"What!" She and Knives yelled, and they glanced at each other before returning their piercing glares at the outlaw.

"Come on! I'm the handsome one between us, but I can pretend to be him. Is his name on it?" Vash began unfolding the envelope.

As Knives watched Vash free the invitation, the Plant was having difficulty grasping onto the magnitude of his brother's foolishness. Without a doubt, the humans at Bernardelli would recognize him. Knives had analyzed paperwork regarding outlaws who pretended to be the Humanoid Typhoon. Knives had even seen pictures of Vash's actual face within such reports from ages ago.

"No, you—" Knives paused as a sudden nauseous sensation crawled up his throat. "You're not going."

"You'll have a great time," Thompson chirped while eating the donut. "The chief said—"

"Neither of us are going because, if you're not aware by now, I chose to work at our residence because I, unfortunately, resemble the world's most wanted fool!"

Vash slapped the table and used it to propel himself to lean closer to his twin. "No one's even recognized this handsome face after all this time! Not a single bounty or anything."

Stryfe took the invitation from Vash and gave him a smug look. "I don't know about handsome…" She raised her arm to cough into it, but Knives noticed that her cheeks became flushed.

Although a voice warned Knives it was disgusting for a human to have such feelings for his twin, another part of himself had always noticed the attraction Stryfe had toward Vash. The Plant had once concluded that Stryfe selfless deeds were her way of serving a superior being, but then he'd recall how Rem had once done small—near insignificant—acts of kindness for him. She had mentioned what people would do for the ones they loved romantically or for those in a platonic relationship. Thompson and Stryfe were two humans that proved Knives of Vash's beliefs on humanity's potential. Two examples out of the millions on the planet… However, Vash had also stated they should cherish those that demonstrated humanity at its best.

Stryfe's attraction was obvious, but it didn't disturb Knives as much as it once had.

Perhaps he was too intoxicated.

"Knives is right, Vash," Stryfe interrupted Knives' thoughts. "I'm surprised no one's noticed you by now since some people here came from the ship and they don't supposedly like you anymore."

Knives scowled at the thought of the humans from the crashed ship. The humans Vash once considered family had betrayed and blamed him for events beyond his control. He wouldn't voice it, but Knives was still glad Legato had ordered the Gung-Ho Guns to decrease the population before the ship fell. Some of the humans that inhabited the ship now lived in New Oregon and had malicious thoughts about Vash until Knives altered their minds.

If it weren't for Knives' promise to Vash, he would've found a way to destroy the town himself. Perhaps he could overload one of the Plants on the ship...

"Knives, are you okay?"

The Plant in question aimed daggers toward his twin, who didn't flinch. "It would be idiotic to attend this celebration, Vash."

Vash pouted, and Knives maintained an aloof expression, but his hardened eyes and jaw jutting out revealed his true emotions. Vash wasn't a child, and Knives had scolded him that such behaviors shouldn't be exhibited by a superior being. Although, an inner voice—a possible manifestation of some untapped guilt—told him Vash's behavior was harmless. Irritating, but that was who Vash was.

Knives had always believed Vash was wrong. He lived under flawed morals—an illogical, sentimental mass of contradictions. Over a century had passed since Knives had lived with Vash, and he had had the opportunity to truly observe his twin himself. The fool was empathetic, affectionate, generous… Similarly to their sisters. They were all naive, and Knives was confident that he had managed to distance himself from the spiders' webs that had ensnared his family for decades. That was his purpose—to exterminate vermin and create an Eden so he and Vash could be freed.

After months of observation, Knives had understood one thing about his brother that he hadn't considered: Vash hadn't entirely neglected who he was—a Plant—even if the fool had always avoided his heritage in regards to their physiology.

His sisters gave too much to the humans, and Knives had always been disgusted by the fact. However, he had known that his family gave much of themselves for each other—not just for humans. Through telepathy, they offered their support, hummed melodies only enjoyed by other Plants, and were usually attentive whenever Knives vented or rambled. Some even expressed forgiveness for Knives' sins against their kind as a result of the Great Fall and the Angel Arm incidents.

Vash had always acted as a Plant in his own way, but Knives had felt betrayed that he was treated differently. Granted, Knives had taken a lot from his brother. Just as the humans he despised had carved into Vash's flesh, peeling and ripping parts of him, Knives had realized he had behaved similarly to a human toward his brother. He came to this conclusion while he was still lying bedridden with bullets in his body, conversing with Vash. His brother hadn't continued the preaching about his decisions and beliefs that Knives so despised. No, Vash admitted that his previous way of life had gotten people hurt or killed and that perhaps, at times, killing is justifiable—though it should always be a last resort if possible.

Knives had listened to Vash then. His words were his own. No longer was he chained to Rem's impossible views—not entirely. Vash was… Vash. Knives had no idea how else to describe his brother since he was unlike any other.

And Knives had acted similarly to the humans he despised.

'Knives?"

The Plant's stiff posture relaxed as he leaned back in his chair while Stryfe continued to nag about their behavior. One glance toward his brother and Knives knew Vash wasn't paying attention despite nodding at Stryfe occasionally.

'What?'

"Well, I've never stopped living because of my bounty and I'm not gonna stop now!" Vash interrupted Stryfe. "I don't even have the coat anymore and I'll style my hair differently! How about wearing my Santa hat to hide it all? If Knives doesn't wanna go, I'll go. If he does go, then I wanna join too!"

Knives examined his possibilities while Stryfe and Vash began bickering once again. Vash would attend the occasion no matter what Knives chose, and knowing the drinking sessions and smaller parties Vash often attended in bars, Knives knew a holiday party would last for hours on end. He simply didn't have the energy to send his telepathic influence across the city—especially for hours. He could remain beside the Bernardelli building, but he never learned how to control the direction of his talent unless it was to invade the minds of a few humans, so he'd not only overhear and control the thoughts of Bernardelli employees, he'd also invade the privacy of humans surrounding the building.

The Plant reached for the invitation, and before Vash could grab it, Knives began ripping it in long strips, which he turned to square pieces of confetti. He pushed the ruined papers over the table and crossed his arms while Vash stared at Knives' invitation.

"That's okay, Knives. It's one of those huge get-togethers for anyone associated with an employee kind of party!" Vash grinned as he gathered the pieces and tossed them over Knives.

The older twin's frown deepened.

"Vash, you're making an even bigger mess," Stryfe complained. "I'm not cleaning it."

"I'll clean it!" Thompson said and began pinching the torn pieces of paper off of Knives, who stiffened.

"Milly," Stryfe began, "you're not responsible for a man-baby and—"

"Fine, Vash." Knives spoke in a cold tone. The younger brother's smile dropped. "I'll accompany you." He then stared at the stranded piece of the torn invitation on the table. "However, if someone recognizes you, we will leave."

Vash quirked a brow. "I know you, brother. You'll probably do some mind trick to get someone to recognize me. You know I don't want you to do that. I regret letting you during Halloween."

Sometimes Knives forgot that his brother was intelligent; however, Vash hadn't suspected the reason why the fool wasn't pursued by humans was because of those mind tricks.

It seemed Vash only expected Knives to utilize his gifts to harm others, which was a wise thought to consider, but it still irritated the Plant since his words were worth more than a mere vermin's.

Hadn't he been proving himself? Hadn't Vash forgiven him—trusted him?

Knives continued to sip from his drink while the others conversed. When he had enough, Knives excused himself to retreat to his room and ordered the others not to disturb him. He was simply too tired once again, and even after drinking water, he felt the familiar aches of a hangover. He was a wine enthusiast, so he had deliberately overdone it at times throughout his life.

Knives wasn't the type to give up easily since for the next few days he attempted other methods to convince his twin not to attend the party. All of them failed. Would anything go his way for once?

Eventually, they all prepared for the party. Knives didn't dare to wear his SEEDS suit; it would attract too much attention. Instead, he wore his long, black peacoat since that time of the year it was cooler than usual. Vash had brought it for him, and the Doc had fastened newly developed lost technology that allowed it to regulate temperatures. Vash also wore a matching one, except it was brown and shorter than Knives'.

The party was occurring on the fourth floor of the Bernardelli building. The girls led the twins to the elevators, and when Knives realized other people were taking them, he used the stairs. He had visited the building on numerous occasions on the days when humans were mostly absent. Working for humans was and always would be beneath him, but he had no choice unless he wanted Stryfe and Vash to nag him to death while he constantly used his telepathy.

Perhaps his brother wouldn't notice or care for his absence. Knives decided to wait and see as he leaned against a wall between flights of stairs. It was cowardly to avoid the humans, and even though he'd often excuse his behavior toward them as his way of not gracing them with his superior presence, Knives knew Vash and the women knew the true reasons.

Knives was feeling the dull ache of a developing headache from using his telepathy and listening to the overwhelming thoughts from dozens of humans. He had to because Vash wouldn't do it for himself in case one would recognize him.

'Knives, where are you?'

The Plant leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. He glanced at the stairs leading to the next floor and overheard voices and laughter from the party above.

'If you're really uncomfortable, you don't have to come. I'm sure your adoring fans will understand.'

Knives scowled. 'My what? Plant worshipers?'

'No!'

Knives raised his head to the light shining on his face. He saw a spot of red heading down the steps and his little brother eventually stood before him in a Santa hat.

"You don't have to be here, Knives. There are a lot of people at this party—more than I thought. I know people make you uncomfortable…"

Knives snarled, mainly at himself. He had once spent weeks in July while waiting for Vash, had remained naked in a bulb in front of Legato for decades, and even lived among them for years. He was a superior being—a Plant! Humans were beneath him, and if Vash could be among them effortlessly, so could he.

Knives kept his arms crossed over his chest while purposely walking around his brother to reach the stairs to the upper floor. They were human garbage! They meant nothing and were noth—

Knives widened his eyes and his arms dropped at the sight of dozens of humans conversing amongst each other in close proximity.

'It's not too late to turn back,' Vash sent to him.

Knives watched humans group together in herds, swinging their Santa hats with each sudden movement. Most drank booze, while others held onto trays with delectables. Tables lined the walls, displaying organized trays of delectables. Knives recognized only the insurance women, who were conversing near the Christmas tree at the corner of the room.

Knives heaved a sigh to calm his racing heart. Ignoring his brother, he found the most vacant part of the room and leaned against the wall with arms crossed. He watched Vash approach the women, and despite the unfortunate situation he found himself in, Knives was grateful that the humans were too occupied with their trivial conversations to notice him or his brother for the most part.

'Oh, I forgot,' Vash spoke mentally, 'some of your fans were asking about you earlier!'

Knives crossed his legs while standing and sharply lowered his brows. 'Humans here shouldn't know me well enough to acknowledge my name.' He rubbed his temples after having to constantly overhear the humans while conversing with his brother.

'Uh…'

Knives snarled, which prompted two women strolling past to flinch and away from the antisocial Plant. 'What, Vash?' he spat.

'Well, Milly kind of mentioned you and how you work from home. People kind of put things together because you're one of the only employees they know nothing about.'

Knives groaned when he spotted his brother and a few unrecognizable women approaching him. The Plant could simply order them to turn away, but Vash would've noticed something was wrong the minute they veered to the tables. His brother wasn't entirely stupid, unfortunately.

'If you value their lives, dear brother, you'd retreat.' He glared at his twin as he froze. 'Now.'

"Okay! I think I saw my brother over here!" Vash shouted, which prompted the humans to glance at him.

"But he looks just like y—" One of the women was pushed to the side and took hold of the other.

"Never seen that man before in my life." Vash winked at Knives, and the older sibling rolled his eyes.

Knives remained in his space, and whatever he saw anyone attempt to approach him, he manipulated people around him to maintain his secrecy. He also kept an eye on Vash, but as the first hour passed, the headache began to sting and throb into a migraine. He'd endure.

Thompson approached him with two plastic cups. She smiled, tilting her head in greeting, while Knives maintained an expression of indifference.

"I thought you might be thirsty," she said and handed him a cup.

Knives reluctantly accepted the offer and sniffed the liquid as he sloshed it around. Yes, alcohol was definitely mixed with the eggnog. It was subtle, but he smelled the chemicals through the eggs and cream. He had recently been drunk, and even knowing his body could handle the meager dosage, he wasn't going to risk making a fool of himself similarly to his twin.

Vash became intoxicated alongside the careless humans. His shouting attracted everyone's attention, which was in Knives' favor since everyone ignored him, but that meant humans would notice his brother. There was one human who particularly aggravated him—a human he'd soon know well: Kevin.

Kevin was beside Stryfe and by the looks of it, she continued to demand the human leave her presence. Vash was oblivious to the subtlety, but Knives remained focused on the male. Kevin moved on to other women and memories surfaced when the man talked with certain ones.

"—Kevin's been trying to ask Meryl out for weeks, but we know her," Thompson said, unaware that Knives had been focusing his attention elsewhere. "Meryl likes someone else."

Knives' eye twitched. "It's Vash."

She clapped the side of her cup, eyes widened and mouth curved. "Wow, you noticed too?!"

He snorted, which was such a humiliating thing to hear from himself. "It's obvious." She's always thinking about him!

"Yeah, Meryl isn't really subtle with that sort of thing." She shrugged. "It's really cute."

"No."

"Oh? Then how would you describe it, Mr. Knives?"

Knives' lips shrugged. "Disgusting."

Less than an hour had passed and Knives was prepared to leave. The constant bombardment of thoughts, the trivial topics humans screeched about, and the memories Kevin continued to reminisce on aggravated Knives to the point of seeking to strangle the revolting human.

This human reminded him of Steve. That beast had done something similar to women. Even to Rem at one point.

"Mr. Knives, are you alright?" Thompson glanced at Knives' now cracked cup. Eggnog soaked the sleeve of his coat, and when she followed his arm to his face, she flinched at his expression.

Knives couldn't do a damn thing! If he did anything, Vash would surely… Why should he do anything? They were pathetic humans and his brother was a fool. He wouldn't waste his time with their insignificant business.

Knives watched Vash approach Stryfe, and, of course, his idiot brother would flirt with her while intoxicated. Despite Vash's reputation as the worst womanizer, Knives hadn't seen him act inappropriately toward another human female other than Stryfe.

Kevin walked to them, a look of rage contorting his face. Knives couldn't take much more. He dropped the remnants of the crushed cup and rubbed his forehead with the other hand. If he didn't use his telepathy, the humans would surely notice his brother. If he—

While Knives was immersed in thought, Kevin yanked Vash's collar toward him, and Vash yelped in response. "You son of a bitch! You're dead! Don't you talk to her again!"

Knives let his rage finally take hold.

He would kill this human.

Knives' heart pounded in his chest and his body trembled with anger. He rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping as he descended them.

'Knives?!'

The Plant clenched his teeth, breathing as deeply as he could, but his anger refused to cool. He hadn't felt this magnitude of rage since being shot by Vash years ago, and he had to find an alternative means to harness it productively.

The public remained oblivious to the events that transpired as Knives avoided his brother as he returned home. He regarded Vash's voice when he reached the stairs to the second floor.

"Knives!"

Knives attempted to send a message, but he felt nauseous after the strain he endured throughout the day. His brother was clueless about everything as usual. Knives tied his shoes, adjusted his shirt, and grabbed his canteen. Vash then pounded on his bedroom door after he finished dressing.

"Knives, why!" Vash frantically turned the knob, but Knives locked it. "You almost killed him! Why?"

Knives shook his canteen and felt the hollow space and knew he'd suffer from some heatstroke without water if he were to exercise. He began filling the canteen with sink water, then he debated climbing out the window.

"Please, let me help. What happened? The guy was just getting to Meryl through me, okay. Apparently, he does that…"

"Making excuses for the vermin once again?" Knives stood in the middle of the room before lifting his eyes to the door and spat, "It's human nature."

"Knives, it's one thing to hurt someone physically, but it's another to do it mentally. Why? Were you… using telepathy before that?"

Knives turned to the window then clenched his fists, shoulders shook as the rage continued to boil his blood. "Yes." He attempted to hide the venom in his tone.

"Knives…"

'What, Vash?! Are you going to lecture me about the value of human privacy?!'

'... You almost killed him. You didn't have to do that! You promised—'

Knives flung open the door and stood before his brother with a posture that evoked confidence. Nothing in his current state hinted at remorse. "I've kept my word. That vermin is still breathing."

Vash scowled, his posture stiffening. "You nearly took his mind from him! He would've been alive, but who he is would've disappeared!"

"So now you're specifying what's alive and not?"

"Tell me the truth! Why did you attack someone with telepathy? Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Knives' expression softened before his eyes hardened once again. Pushing his brother aside, he strode to the stairs. Before he reached the bottom, Vash clasped onto his shoulder.

Knives stiffened at the contact. "I have been using my telepathy almost continuously not long after we moved into our current residence," he admitted, which prompted Vash to drop his hand from his shoulder. "With the sudden increase in the population last month, it's been a tedious endeavor to hear everyone's thoughts or alter them." Knives narrowed his eyes at the reflective streams of Christmas decorations around the handrails of the stairs.

"Y-You've been listening to everyone! Why?! You shouldn't be doing that! People deserve their privacy! They don't deserve someone controlling them! No one deserves that powerless feeling…"

Knives winced at the memory of July. Then he reflected on when he was powerless after Vash shot his thigh. Knives opened his mouth, but his brother spoke first.

"You can't do that to people anymore!"

Knives scoffed and began descending the stairs again. "You're a fool, Vash—that'll never change. You honestly believe you've been living a peaceful life because the humans around us don't recognize you?" He reached for the front door, but Vash slammed his palm against it.

"They don't often connect me to my reputation!"

Releasing his grip on the knob, Knives met Vash's eyes and narrowed his own. "For months I've been commanding humans to reconsider their thoughts or actions against you. The humans who lived on the ship still hold a grudge, Bernardelli employees at times recognized you, and not long ago a bounty hunter mistook me for you." He dropped his glare to stare at his shoes. Then, a flash of fury appeared in his eyes, and his face wrinkled in malice. "Fine. I will not interfere. Let them all harm Stryfe and Thompson for harboring a fugitive. Let the humans hurt you; they've been doing an excellent job for the past hundred years!"

Before Vash could stop him, Knives yanked the door open and stormed out of the house. Just a millisecond away from losing himself to his temper, Knives was somewhat relieved he no longer had his black Long Colt that could annihilate everything around him.

The aggravated Plant kept a rushed pace with wide strides, and his brother wasn't far behind. Now more than ever, people watched him and Vash storm through the area. He instinctively reached out with his telepathy but reminded himself that Vash wished to risk his life instead of their privacy.

So be it, let his brother suffer the consequences.

Vash continued to follow while scolding him either verbally or through telepathy himself, which only made Knives' body tremble with irritation. He maneuvered through humans to reach the gate to leave town, but Vash had enough and pulled him into an alleyway.

"You can't run from this! You can't—"

"I'm not the one who runs away!" Knives shouted as he roughly yanked his arm from Vash's grip. "If you wish to lecture me, then prepare one when I get back! I'm one second away from throwing you against the wall!" He left the alleyway and trudged on the way to the city's gate, already exhausted by exercising his abilities before.

"You promise we'll talk about this later," Vash said, almost demanding.

Knives gestured with his hands dismissively and continued walking.

Now that he was at a great enough distance, Knives slowed his pace then abruptly stopped in the least crowded intersection. He had once again acted out of anger. That human that harassed the women reminded him of their childhood tormenter, the first human Knives ever murdered. Then the human garbage at the party went after his brother, and he couldn't simply stand by and allow it.

Why did his brother allow humans to harm him?

It took over an hour, but Knives managed to reach a stable state of mind.

If it wasn't for the very Plant physiology Vash had been afraid of his whole life, the fool would've died decades ago by allowing vermin to torment him. He would've been the same as Rem—dying for the sake of the humans. Knives couldn't stand it.

Let him die then. Let him suffer.

Knives snapped his head up from staring at the sand, veering behind him toward what resembled the echo of a gunshot. It wasn't uncommon for such a thing to occur, but his telepathy had been disturbed. It was a familiar sensation, one he connected to his brother…

'Knives…'

Vash's weak voice startled him. 'Vash?'

Knives reached into the minds of dozens of people, and when he heard their sickening thoughts near the weak signal from his brother, he ran to the scene. A moment later, he turned corners and nearly stumbled as he analyzed the scene before him. Humans huddled over an area on the sidewalk, and when he pushed through them, he spotted golden spikes.

"Vash!" Knives shoved through humans to kneel before his brother.

Vash clutched onto his chest where blood began seeping through his clothes. Based on the trail of red darkening the sand, Vash had managed to crawl behind a support beam in front of someone's house. Knives ordered the humans to shield him and Vash from the perpetrator until Vash was stabilized.

Knives forced Vash's hands off his chest so he could examine the extent of the damage. Luckily for his twin, the bullet missed his heart by a few millimeters.

"Knives…" Vash uttered as he attempted to reach for Knives' hand. "Don't… kill th…"

"Be quiet," Knives demanded softly.

Knives tore through Vash's blood-soaked coat and shirt to firmly palm against the hole, and was grateful that the bullet had passed through. He inhaled slowly before releasing his breath at a steady pace. He continued this breathing method until he felt the familiar prickling warmth radiate from the gates within his arms. Similarly to their sisters, Knives and Vash had the ability to transfer energy to heal their wounds—an ability Knives had discovered when they were children, which was a different talent from healing himself only.

While healing Vash, Knives gathered the information he needed from the human witnesses. Apparently, his sentimental twin had offered to assist a group of children with hanging their Christmas decorations before being gunned down by an unknown assassin. While sealing the hole, Knives searched for the human responsible, and when he found the filth, he gritted his teeth as the mental strain began to weaken him. The garbage had positioned himself on the roof, and Knives used everything in his power to force him to remain where he stood.

The migraine, throbbing and burning, was beyond anything Knives had ever felt before; worse than being shot at multiple times. He nearly lost consciousness as he continued to pour his energy into his brother, and when pink flesh finally covered the hole, Knives nearly lost his balance and toppled over Vash. He straightened himself on his knees and wiped the sweat from his face. Neglecting his own health, he sent an urgent message to Stryfe and Thompson to carry Vash home. He didn't trust the humans around him.

By the time the women arrived, Vash had lost consciousness while Knives had to stabilize himself on his knees using the nearest wall. Thompson reassured him that she was able to carry Vash without harming him. When the women began questioning him, the Plant reached for his rage and ignored his fatigued state to confront the human who dared to harm his brother.

On the rooftop, a block away was a human, who stationed himself on the roof after recognizing Vash. When and how Knives never read this human's thoughts before, he was unsure. Perhaps the human had kept his distance enough for Knives to be overburdened with the nearest humans' thoughts. It didn't matter. The garbage's life was meaningless.

To avoid entering the building, he found the fire escape and began ascending metal ladders and staircases. Releasing a long breath, Knives reached the top and his eyes bored into the human's pathetic skull. The man seemed normal for a human, but he had a rifle of some sort positioned while a duffle bag sat beside his trembling form.

With narrowed eyes, Knives glared at the terrified man sprawled on the ground, snarling. With his mouth forced closed, the man mentally pleaded to God. Knives then slowly closed his eyes as a memory began playing. Voices. He knew them well. One was his own, and the other belonged to his foolish brother.

Knives freed the man's mind and watched him crawl away.

No one has the right to take the life of another.

The Plant pulled the man to his feet by the collar, knotting the cotton in his fists. His cold scowl and twitching eye paralyzed the filth.

Knives, I...

He ignored Vash's voice within the memory as he began digging into the human's mind to destroy him.

What, Vash?

He briefly shook his head as the memory continued to play. He pulled one hand away and reached for the animal's neck. Psychological trauma wasn't enough.

I, uh…

He gripped the neck with both hands, fingers snaked around it, thumbs pressed against the laryngeal prominence. The vermin began desperately gasping for breath.

Vash, are you about to partake in that 'guessing game' again? What is it?

The insect gripped onto Knives' arms in a vain attempt to free himself. Knives grinned maliciously at the cowering creature, who began spilling tears and sorrowful words regarding the welfare of his family.

How dare it plead for its family when it had almost taken his!

N-No! No, it's just that… Thank you.

His veins strained as if they were attempting to break from his pale skin. His knuckles whitened as his digits and fingernails dug into the neck, drawing blood.

For what, dear brother?

Nasal mucus and saliva mixed with the blood dripping from the gashes made by Knives' fingernails. He would've been disgusted if he weren't occupied with watching the vermin's eyes dart rapidly around him.

For not killing them… People. Humans. It's just…

As the pulse decelerated beneath his grip, Knives' smile widened.

What now? Have I glared at a human incorrectly, Vash?

If it wasn't for Knives' strength, the brute would've fallen.

No! It's just… I just—promise me you won't kill anyone.

Knives shut his eyes. His grip on the human began loosening.

He recalled taking a long time to consider his brother's request.

I promise, Vash. I will not kill them. Although, only if such an act would be appropriate for the situation.

This was such a moment! This filth deserved to die! So many did! So many would die!

Knives reached for his left arm as it trembled while holding the man's neck. Vash would understand why he had to do it.

Knives lowered his head and bared his teeth. He squeezed the man's throat.

Then he released the human. As the body thudded, Knives' hardened face began softening.

Vash had said he forgave him. Would his brother speak of forgiveness again if he took this human's life?

As much as Knives loathed this human, he wouldn't be responsible for taking his life. This human's life wasn't worth losing his brother over. He reached into the vermin's mind and forced him to admit to nearly murdering an innocent human to the local sheriff's office. Hopefully the human would be lynched or shot as punishment.

Despite sparing that filth's life, something within Knives began scrutinizing him for offering mercy to a human. That animal should've died. What a predicament. Now he was a walking contradiction!

The house was active as Knives listened from the front patio. He rubbed his eyes and shook his head at the thought of his brother lecturing him. He tried to open the door, but it was locked.

'Thompson, open the door.'

"Mr. Knives, what happened? Mr. Vash fell asleep and we didn't have time to ask anyone," she asked as her eyes glistened and tear trails stained her cheeks.

Knives ran a hand through his hair. "A bounty hunter shot him. Vash was helping others in decorating their home, and no doubt he was distracted." He pulled the canteen strap over his head and held it. "Where's Stryfe?"

"She's with him. Are you alright?"

"Do not disturb us until I say so." He began ascending the stairs.

Knives nearly barged in before he overheard Stryfe weeping in Vash's room. He knocked, and as she prepared herself, he crossed his arms and hid his concern for Vash well, except for a subtle crease between his brows. She opened the door, her eyes still puffy and red from weeping.

"He's awake…" She lowered her eyes and fidgeted with her fingers clasped together in front of her. "Are you…"

"Leave. Do not disturb us."

She understood and stepped around Knives to reach for the stairs. He pushed the door open to see his brother facing him on his pillow. A cloth was placed on his forehead, he was shirtless, and a glass of water with melting ice remained on the nightstand.

Vash's narrowed eyes focused on Knives, and when tears dripped down Vash's temple, Knives kept his distance.

"Did you kill him?"

Knives closed the door, but he continued to face it and stared at his blurred reflection on the doorknob. "If I'm to answer honestly?"

Vash grimaced, but after a few silent moments, he dropped his head onto the pillow. "I-I'd be really disappointed… You promised, but…" He turned his head to face his brother, and his expression softened. "People make mistakes… I'd probably say I'd forgive you for breaking your promise or something." He narrowed his eyes before closing them and said nothing else.

Knives scoffed. "Really, Vash? After everything? How many mistakes could one make before such forgiveness cannot be given? You killed one human while I ended millions. How could you possibly lay there and excuse humans who do this to you?" He scowled before his whole body stiffened.

Vash contemplated Knives' words for a moment before meeting his eyes again with an authentic smirk. "We thought our ways of life were right. I… I often forced others to see things the way I thought—was determined—was the right way, which was what you did to me. We've both been like this for over a century, Knives. Forcing our ways on people when maybe—maybe—we're wrong in some way. The thing is… My way isn't easy. It cost Wolfwood his life, almost mine countless times, and… your way hurt me. I just don't want to decide to take a life if I can avoid it, but if I absolutely have to, I might have to. We can do better, Knives... We're superior, right?" Vash forced himself to sit up with trembling arms. He then reached for the glass just out of reach, but before he strained himself further, Knives offered the cup. "Eden might be impossible to reach, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to create it. I can't accept creating that world over the blood of the people."

Knives felt heavier than ever before, and to stabilize himself, he sat on the end of the bed, facing away from his twin.

"Now, uhh," Vash began before drinking some water, "you didn't, did you…?"

Knives rolled his eyes, and his defensive demeanor returned. "No, I didn't. I gave you my word."

Vash released a sigh of relief, and his smile broadened. He opened his mouth, but then frowned. "You've been using telepathy this whole time so people like that wouldn't notice or do anything to me? And you've been hurting yourself by using it too often?"

Knives gave a sharp nod. "That's why I snapped at that human—mostly. His behavior irritated me."

Suddenly, Vash looked grim with closed eyes and before Knives could speak again, Vash grabbed one of his pillows and pressed it against his face. 'I thought… You're right. I'm an idiot. I always see people give me dirty looks—people I recognized from the ship, but I thought we were safe. I thought they'd forgive me. I don't know what I was thinking when moving here—thinking they'd give me another chance after everything… Maybe I should move on and leave the girls…'

"Hmph, I'm assuming you'll abandon me as well."

Vash chuckled weakly. "Like you'd let me now."

Knives couldn't contain a smirk, but he then frowned as an idea appeared—crazy enough to work if he gave himself the opportunity to reflect on it. "You should move in with the doctor for a while. Until we develop a solution, you'll avoid crowded places so this doesn't occur again. The last thing I want is two annoyances nagging and lecturing me about something I've done."

"H-Hey! I don't nag!"

"Hmm."

"At least not like Meryl."

"You two cry just about as much. At least she has the decency to hide it." Knives stood from the bed and rubbed his temples. "I'm sure if you whine enough, one of the women will serve you. It's nothing less than we deserve for being their superiors."

Vash pulled the pillow off his face. "Right. Would a superior being get shot like this?"

"I'm honestly surprised," Knives approached the door, "I sent the Guns after you, and now you nearly perished by a meaningless bounty hunter..." He furrowed his brows. "You didn't purposely allow yourself to be vulnerable, did you?"

"Hey, no! I mess up too! Look at all these scars! Those kids were a handful, okay. Guess I'm too used to the peaceful life."

Knives shrugged before opening the door and when he reached his bedroom and locked it, he sprawled himself across the bed, crossing his arms behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. He contemplated the plan he began piecing together. It was a stretch, but it was possible. He knew for a fact his brother wouldn't approve of it.

The rest of the week was uneventful but strange. Knives wasn't home as often as he had been before the incident after the Christmas party, and the girls frequently found him at the Bernardelli building when most people left for the day. They attempted to interrogate him, but he refused to reveal any information. Vash was clueless as to what scheme Knives was planning, and when he was able to walk again a day after the incident, Knives revealed little or nothing at all.

If a hundred years of life-threatening incidents hadn't prevented the outlaw from enjoying life, then a bullet wound wasn't going to either. It was midnight when the outlaw stormed from his room—wishing his brother would do the same since they had awakened at midnight for Christmas on the SEEDS ship—and he nearly tripped and fell over. When he reached his and Knives' tree, he halted and noticed there were three additional presents placed under it compared to the night before. Almost everyone wrote their names to identify who offered the gift and who it was for, but the three new ones only had the names of to whom they were for.

Oddly enough, one of the gifts was a neatly prepared envelope with perfect, slightly slanted handwriting. It was obvious who wrote it, and it was the first thing Vash opened.

To my dearest brother,

This is my gift to you.

I did not murder that human, so I hope it is sufficient evidence to convince you that my verbal statements hold value comparable to my written ones.

Do not search for me. I will return.

I have written detailed instructions on how to utilize your telepathy, but knowing you, it is a useless addition to this gift. As I have suggested before, you should move into the ship until it is safe.

You will know when.

Yours truly, Knives.

Vash narrowed his eyes and immediately dropped the paper. He rushed to his brother's room, his heart racing as seconds were wasted on ascending the stairs. He grabbed the knob and knew something was wrong when it was unlocked. The outlaw pushed the door to discover that the letter was true. His brother was gone.

Weeks passed, and Vash eventually moved into the ship with Doc since wandering in the city was dangerous without his brother's assistance. Those weeks turned to months. Despite somewhat trusting Knives, Vash had a dubious thought of hearing about a city being blown or a town full of prosperous people suddenly disappearing.

Nothing.

When five months passed, Vash had an idea as to Knives' reasonings behind leaving him and the girls. While working with Doc one day, Vash received some of the best news he had ever heard from Meryl and Milly when they visited after work. Apparently, the bounty on his head was lifted due to the illogical reasoning behind convicting an individual when it was previously speculated a malfunctioning Plant was responsible for the destruction of July, and even Augusta was given the same treatment. The $$60,000,000,000.00 man was finally freed from the bounty after almost 30 long years. The question on everyone's mind was: how?

During one of the hottest days of the year in mid July, there had always been a steady flow of people entering New Oregon, but none quite like this. Dust was kicked and puffed in vanishing clouds as a man riding a toma approached the gate to the town. Draping his left arm was a grandiose cloak that whipped the air as the toma ran as the man commanded it to. Once the beast slowed, the man wrapped the pale, brown cloak around his odd jumpsuit underneath as he waited in line with other people to be accepted into the town.

The individual wandered through town with grace and diligence while riding a toma. The beast groaned as they passed other toma, and it didn't take long for the man to reach his destination. He dismounted and offered the toma a treat, and then fished for a set of keys that jingled in his grasp as he unlocked the door. When he opened it, he widened his eyes while running a hand through his blond locks in an attempt to rid his scalp of granules.

The house hadn't changed since Christmas. The decorations were still put on display despite some of them sagging or losing their color. The Christmas trees' lights were off, and the trees were recently replaced with fresh-smelling pine that lingered throughout the living room. Even most of the gifts were left untouched, all except for one the man had left for his brother over half a year ago.

Knives ascended the stairs decorated in reflective streams and ribbons. Expecting his room to be different, he opened the door and was pleasantly relieved that it had been undisturbed. It was cleaned, but everything was in place or near where he had set them. He hung his cloak on the hook mounted on the door and began unzipping his SEEDS jumpsuit to savor the chill from a cold shower. He eventually wrapped a towel around his waist and dried himself enough to wear the set of casual clothes he prepared before showering.

There was one thing left to do while the women were at work.

'Yo, Vash.'

The Plant helped himself and prepared lunch while waiting for his brother to respond. He brought a perfectly prepared sandwich to his mouth.

'K-Knives!'

He flinched and dropped his meal, the layers sprawled over the other half of his sandwich. He should've expected such a response, but he was too exhausted to consider his brother's spontaneous bursts of energy.

'Who else would it be?'

'Where are you?! Gah—just hurt myself while working.'

'Take your time,' Knives rolled his eyes while assembling his sandwich again. 'I'm not going anywhere at the moment.'

'I'll be right over!'

'I'm sure you will.' Knives severed the connection.

It took the ex-outlaw three minutes to barge into the house to find his older brother finishing the last of his meal with a fork and knife. Knives stood from the chair and prepared some grand speech or remark when suddenly Vash rushed and latched onto him, squeezing what energy Knives had left.

Knives attempted to elbow his twin, but Vash managed to hook his arms around Knives' and prevented him from separating them.

"It's been too loooong!"

"We were apart for over a century before!"

"So? We didn't really get along then!"

Heaving a sigh, Knives hesitantly leaned forward to place his forehead on Vash's shoulder and left his arms to dangle at his sides. Vash had always embraced him throughout the years, but Knives couldn't remember ever returning the gesture. He didn't complete the embrace, and even if he did, it wouldn't have been anything extraordinary compared to what he had experienced and endured for the past half-year. It was unusual to be among humans constantly—a drastic change from living in a ship for decades. Knives hadn't expected to be able to function while being among hundreds of humans. Even when arriving in New Oregon couldn't compare to the other populated cities.

Knives did, however, push himself from Vash after a few minutes of allowing his brother to remain so close. Vash wiped the tears from his face and smiled broadly.

"Was that you?"

"Hmm?"

"The bounty… What happened?"

Knives shrugged. "It took a while to find the humans responsible for placing it on you, but it had to be done."

Vash gave him a skeptical expression. "Did you… Did you have to use telepathy on people?"

Knives suppressed the urge to snarl. He knew this was coming. "Are you going to lecture me after everything I have done?"

Vash rubbed the back of his neck. "No… Just—can you tell me everything? What happened?"

Knives pushed past Vash to reach the couch. The twins sat in front of each other, one leaning back against the cushion of his armchair while the other arched forward with his hands clasped under his chin. Knives raised his eyes to meet Vash before he began.

"I recalled your files in Bernardelli and decided to track down the humans who placed the bounty on you after July. Utilizing telepathy, I managed to command these men into realizing the idiocy in condemning one man for causing these acts of God or whatever ridiculous names they invented. Anyway, that's simply it. I found these humans throughout the planet, federation, and other institutions." He straightened his posture while crossing his arms.

"R-Really? You… Why? W—" Bewildered, Knives continued to ease his overwhelmed twin.

"Despite the Stampede being absent from action, dozens of humans have been punished for pretending to be you. It was simple to find the files and convince those to remove it. It wasn't a complete lie. July was caused by Plants—one obviously defective."

Vash hung his head, eyes staring at nothing on the coffee table. "... That doesn't erase what happened…"

"What else could I do, Vash? I can't travel into the past despite being a being who lives outside of time. How could I be punished for crimes committed when the majority of this planet is clueless as to what happened? Would they even believe it?"

Vash raised his head, a look of determination greeted Knives. "We can help each other atone for our mistakes." Vash stood and threw himself on the couch beside Knives, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, who stiffened at the contact. "We can open gifts today! Meryl doesn't have to complain about dusting them anymore!"

Knives slightly tilted his head. "The Christmas decorations."

"We were waiting for you to get back, even if we had to wait until next year. Meryl has been complaining about it since forever. People do recognize me, but without the bounty and the fact that some people from the ship still care, nothing much has happened."

"You put too much faith in these humans."

"Oh! I asked a friend to make this not long after you left." Vash reached for a poorly wrapped box from under the tree. In a flash, he presented it to Knives. "Merry late Christmas."

Knives examined the gift and carefully unwrapped the folds to preserve the paper for other purposes. He ignored the disappointed pouting from his brother for not ripping through the sheets and opened the lid of the box. He tried to maintain an expression of indifference, but his face betrayed him since Vash noticed a slight curve at the corner of his lip.

The craftsmanship of the piece was stunning—even by Knives' standards. It was a black Long Colt and, although it wasn't the ones he had engineered over a century ago, it displayed the care and craftsmanship of the human who had built it. Knives speculated it was custom made and Vash had given detailed instructions and measurements to create the perfect weapon for Knives' hands. The barrel held smaller bullets than .45s, which he should've expected after receiving a gun from his brother.

How ironic to be the one given a gun this time.

The twins turned toward the door and saw Stryfe and Thompson enter. Knives narrowed his eyes.

'I sent them a message that you were back,' Vash answered Knives' silent question.

'Of course you di—'

"Mr. Knives!" Thompson shouted.

Knives clenched his teeth since the high pitched squeal reminded him of his brother's irritating whining. Before he could stand, Thompson rushed into him and trapped him in a crushing embrace. Slightly flushed, he attempted to seem unaffected by the affection. When his brother began laughing, Knives stabbed the idiot's soul with a piercing glare.

"Well, it's about time!" Stryfe began, tapping her foot with hands on her hips. "Vash wouldn't let us take these decorations down! Even when he moved out of here!"

"After today, we can start taking them down!" Vash approached the woman and planted a quick kiss on her lips, which surprised his older brother and caused Thompson to giggle.

"V-Vash!"

Knives grimaced. "I've missed quite a bit," he muttered as his mind processed the image of his twin making contact with a human, but… If Vash would've shown such affection toward a stranger, if he acted as a womanizer, Knives would've skinned his brother, but Stryfe had proved her worth long ago—before Knives was defeated, even.

"Now we have all the time in the world to talk about it!" Vash clapped Knives' back. "Let's open some gifts."

Knives sat on the lone cushioned chair while the girls sat together on the couch and his brother crossed his legs beside the tree, handing out presents as he unnecessarily announced each name and who the gifts were from.

"Oh," Vash said as he reached for presents perfectly wrapped underneath the women's tree, "to Meryl and Milly, but I don't know who they're from." He winked at Knives.

"Hmm," Knives hummed as his lips pressed on the edge of a teacup Thompson had given him earlier.

Vash handed the women their gifts and he found his. Stryfe was the slowest to open hers and Thompson managed to become star-struck at the music box she hastily opened and began playing. Vash, with his tongue out while looking concentrated, paused in his efforts to unwrap his gift.

"Oh my gosh, it's so cute!" Thompson then poked the figurine of an intricately assembled toma spinning as the gears and other mechanisms of the music box continued to shift. "Thank you!"

The song Sound Life continued chiming in a perfect rhythmic tune. Knives and Vash appeared to be in deep thought until Thompson broke the spell and closed the box.

"Hey!" Stryfe bellowed as she revealed the contents of the box. Within were a small marker and a ruler fit for a child's hands. She glared at Knives, who shrugged.

"I was hoping to see if you would've measured your growth by marking your door frame while I was away." Knives leaned to his right to avoid the ruler that hit the armchair inches beside his head before it fell behind his back. "Do you understand now, dear brother? Humans are unappreciative—even if you have their best interest at heart!"

"'... Best interest at heart!' You don't even have one!"

Knives smirked at the sight of her trembling clenched fists. "A trait we both share, apparently.."

"... Why you—"

"Mr. Knives, that's awfully generous of you, but Meryl hasn't grown an inch since I met her."

"M-Milly!"

"My turn!" Vash shouted over Stryfe before she continued her retort. "The letter was enough, Knives. Well, and the whole bounty thing."

"Wait, what?" Stryfe asked, whirling her head at the Plant. "Was that you?"

"Hon, I'll tell you all about it later," Vash said as he lifted the lid from his box. He paused, shoulders slumped. "It's just a string."

"Grab it," Knives simply said.

Vash narrowed his eyes, skeptical of his brother. He did as instructed and yanked on the string like the black cat that recently lived around their house. He widened his eyes at the flap of cardboard that lifted from the floor of the box. He grabbed a sand steamer ticket and examined the glistening paper that didn't have a destination.

"The ticket to the future is…"

"It was supposed to be another hint to what I had planned," Knives mentioned, "but I didn't expect you to wait until now to open it."

"Oh…" Vash flipped it over and frowned. "Hey! That's not nice!" He mocked the hurt tone of his voice. He then pouted but chuckled at the word "moron" written in Knives' handwriting on the back.

"No matter what your future may hold, dearest brother, you'll always be a moron."

They spent hours talking long after Knives unwrapped his gifts. Thompson had made a ceramic cup with painted grape vines; Stryfe had helped design a holster after Vash had mentioned purchasing a less threatening gun; Vash also bought Knives a subscription at the local library recently opened. Of course, Vash was worried Knives would've rejected the idea of entering one of Gunsmoke's most tranquil places full of people, but to their surprise, Knives accepted the gift and preferred hardcovers over digital.

While the others continued to enjoy each other's company, Knives went up to his room. Locking the door behind him, he set his gifts on the bed and held his new gun again. He tossed it beside the other gifts. He then reached into his saddlebag and reflecting the sunlight was the black .45 caliber Long Colt. Although the red duster wasn't present, the Cross Punisher and the weapons were buried where he and Vash had fought years ago.

He designed the weapons to channel his and Vash's abilities to destroy infrastructures to exacerbate humans' suffering, and when he discovered that the vermin had died after the events that took his legs, he was complacent about his efforts despite the consequences toward himself.

Knives raised the weapon with his left hand, hiding half of his face behind the inverted barrel. It was funny. So much had changed. He had once felt confident gripping the weapon and was beyond ecstatic when he held it over a century later. Now… it felt heavier than ever before.

Ty for reading!