He knew pain. As people matured and died, he often watched them all from a distance and memorized their faces to the most minute detail. He witnessed families persevere through their struggles, then they would tear themselves apart. For the first fifteen years of his life, he fought his brother regarding the value of human life. He was used to arguing.
Vash stared at the opposite side of the dining room table, often glancing at Milly awkwardly sitting on the long side of it. He tightly gripped his napkin, ignoring the partially eaten breakfast between his arms on the table. Now, he had lost his appetite. He was startled when hurtful words suddenly overwhelmed him, like towering and aggressive waves slamming into him before he could regain his balance.
Vash slowly looked up from his breakfast to see Meryl's face contorted with rage and anguish. Two of the three people he loved more than anything—his life even—hated him. Maybe not hate, but they sure had a lot of it in their hearts. He didn't blame Meryl for how she felt. A part of Vash nagged that, yes, he was also responsible and not entirely innocent for the past. Was it wrong to trust Knives? Was it wrong to love those that, at times, mistreated him?
Meryl just didn't understand why he couldn't give up on Knives. When they'd settle down, Vash would try to reason with her.
Meryl slammed her fist on the table, shouted for the last time about Knives, gathered her things for work, and stormed out of the house. Her momentum disturbed the crafted origami hearts Vash and Milly had hung around the house for Valentine's Day. When the silence lingered for longer than Vash and Milly were comfortable with, she wordlessly stood to clip the hearts that fell off to the strings.
"Mr. Vash," Milly finally spoke while returning to her seat, "you know she only wants what's best for you. When we separated to find Mr. Knives, she was really scared."
Vash laughed without enthusiasm. "Yeah, what a guy I am, huh?"
Milly shook her head. "We don't like to see you get hurt. She can't stand it; she just has a hard time showing that she cares sometimes."
"I know. She's got a lot of fight in such a tiny woman."
"That's dependable Meryl," Milly said before stuffing her face with toast. "I took the day off to finish my letters, and I was gonna ask if you'd send one, Mr. Vash."
Vash held his head in his hand, elbow wedged between his utensils and plate, and pondered who he'd want to contact. Did he miss anyone when he traveled across the planet on sand steamers weeks ago? He had visited Lina and her grandma, Inepril, the orphanage, and a few others. He had left with the girls in January and had returned in February...
"Nah, I'm good! Hmm, a day off sounds nice. I've got some things to do and, er…" He abruptly stood." To think about."
"Aren't you going to finish your food?"
Vash looked at his plate. He snapped his head up and began scarfing down his food, tilting the plate to scrape the rest of it into his mouth. He then chugged the orange juice before taking everything to the kitchen and left.
Vash stuffed his hands in his brown coat's seemingly bottomless pockets, slouched forward, and sighed as if he were a broken man. He stared at the ground, but occasionally he'd watch people act affectionate toward each other. Shops displayed various assorted gifts meant to be given to a special someone in somebody's life. Valentine's Day was tomorrow, and Vash thought what he'd give to—
"Yes! Yes, I will!"
Vash stopped in his tracks. A young man and woman sat together in front of a small café. While people, including Vash, began clapping for them, he saw the man present a thin steel ring in a small box. Once everything returned to normal, the couple continued to enjoy their morning together. Vash resumed his walk throughout the town, but after witnessing that proposal, his mind couldn't rest.
He never gave himself the opportunity to ask a girl out on a date and commit to it for decades. He had fallen in love a couple of times, but it had never lasted.
Traditions for proposing had evolved since the Fall. On Earth, it was popular for a partner to stand on one knee and present a shiny ring, but that had kinda changed even before humans left Earth. Vash had seen people propose before and each city, town, and village did it differently. Since New Oregon brought in countless people from across the planet, he was often interested in engaging in people's varied cultures and traditions.
Vash was sure of one thing: when he'd propose to Meryl, he would absolutely not do it in public.
Vash had thought about marrying her for months now, but whenever he found the urge to prepare, something always seemed to distract him. Besides, although he wanted to find love and a bit of stability in his life, marriage would seem like a waste of time for Meryl. He'd lose her one day while he'd live on—he and Knives. Meryl wasn't tied to him now, and if something happened between them, it'd be easier to part without the complication of marriage. Then, married or not, what would they do when she started aging? Would they go out in public, put on forced smiles, and say Meryl was his grandmother or something? Vash grimaced at the thought, eerily resembling his brother as he kicked a can, then picked it up and threw it away.
Focus. Today (and yesterday, actually) they had a fight. Maybe, just maybe, if he got her something cute for Valentine's Day, she'd be less bitchy… Then again, she might not be so easily swayed, because they'd been fighting about something else.
Vash paused to examine the pieces on display in the window of a small jewelry store. He cocked his head to the side, wondering what Meryl would like. What would a woman who wears white on a desert planet, gold earrings, and even white boots want? He'd talked about this with Milly before, but he didn't like the idea of choosing for Meryl. He spent more than a human lifetime dealing with someone who forced their choices on him, so he didn't want that for anyone else.
He leaned forward, pressing his palms and forehead against the glass and letters of the advertisements artistically painted on the window. Ignoring his reflection, he watched the jewelry maker work his magic and tinker with certain metals and glass to form intricate works of art. He stepped back and focused on his reflection rather than the glistening rings.
His eyes followed his long hair, a straight and flawless stream, as it descended, not quite long enough to reach his shoulders. It had taken him a while to grow long hair when he was hiding from his brother as Eriks. Milly recently offered advice on how to maintain it, though he already learned how to long ago. He ran a hand through it and didn't snag on a single knot. He still was young. He was over a hundred thirty years old, though. Meryl was almost thirty. Even now, Vash noticed how time was gradually having an effect on her. A wrinkle there, a gray hair there, and she was slightly slower. He brushed back his hair, noticing the area of black roots near his scalp. Was this aging? Was that what the black hair meant? Vash had never seen any Plant with it.
Would he start aging? Would he ever look older than twenty-five? He had looked the same since parting from Knives the first time. Vash thought about what it would be like to grow old alongside Meryl. It was scary, yet liberating in a bemusing way. Wasn't that what it meant to be human? Surviving to enjoy what life had to offer for as long as one could? Vash had been doing that for his whole life, but he never thought about dying; that was a mortal thing… Right, mortal.
People, in a way, lived forever through their families. Knives once described it as a futile effort for humans to achieve immortality through their offspring. That wasn't a bad thing, though. He and Meryl… He watched his cheeks flush. They were a couple after all; he shared himself and she reciprocated her love. Knives had said that even though their DNA was partially comparable with human DNA, it was unlikely humans and Plants could ever have children together. They were different species. That didn't mean they couldn't get along.
Did having similar DNA bother Knives? Why hadn't they talked about that before?
Then again, Vash knew Knives well enough. Vash could practically hear Knives' voice declaring that Plants were superior with or without similar DNA.
No, just different.
"Brad!"
Vash widened his eyes at what sounded like a stampede. Slowly, he turned his head to the right, keeping his palms against the glass, and his smile twitched at the sight of dust clouds and as he heard the screams of children. A pack of six children charged for 'Brad', seemingly from nowhere. Vash screamed as the children flew into the air with toys and other items in hand. As the world slowed while they were airborne, Vash braced himself for the impact. His prosthetic helped carry three of the children that grasped his limb. Another child's lollipop stuck to his hair. The other child pulled his right arm forward. They shook him like a ragdoll, calling him a name he gave to everyone he first met, and demanding his attention.
"Aaah! Guys, guys! What's up?" Vash managed to overpower the children and squat before the shortest of the group. "There isn't a fire, is there?"
"Nope!" the one pulling the lollipop from Vash's hair screamed, and Vash recognized him to be David. He yanked the candy away, and Vash yelped, making the others laugh at his misery.
"Ooooh, look," another named Emily pointed at the window, "you're planning to marry someone? Ew."
"Heh, uh, m-maybe."
"My parents aren't together anymore after daddy hit mommy," Chris revealed as he tugged on Vash's arm.
"Uh, that's not good." How was he supposed to respond to that?
"Brad, Brad! You're gonna be Mr. Brad!" a little boy, Tim, teased. "I bet it's that short woman I see you hang around with."
"Heh. What gave it away…?" Vash mumbled.
"Knew it," Emily whispered to herself.
Vash straightened his back and watched the children bicker amongst each other. It was moments like these that reminded him why he sought to live for so long—that and Rem. He felt his smile broaden as the children began talking over each other about their mischievous activities. They reminded him of the hundreds of other children he had interacted with, and how they'd grown and changed.
Change wasn't always such a wonderful thing.
"Brad, if you're broke again, we can loan you some doubles," David said, sucking on his heart lollipop.
Chris looked down at his shoes. "I can take some from my dad when he's distracted."
"What?" Vash shouted. "No! Don't steal from your folks! And I'm not broke! I bought you guys donuts the other day, remember?!"
"Doesn't he drink a lot at that one bar?" Emily whispered to Chris.
"H-hey! I don't spend everything I own!" Vash retorted. "Besides, how do any of you know? You all stalkers or something?!"
They turned toward each other, and, confidently, they nodded. Vash lowered his head in defeat. It was like having the insurance girls following his every move all over again.
As much as Vash wanted to play with the kids, he still had to figure out how to make peace with Meryl. She didn't enjoy public displays of affection much, so surprising her with a nice lunch and shiny balloons wouldn't win him any good boyfriend points. Something small yet meaningful, maybe? Then again, she'd probably complain about making such a big fuss over getting something for her.
"Hey, guys," Vash began, "what would ya give someone you really love for Valentine's Day?"
The kids began giggling and teasing, but Vash laughed at their responses.
David raised his candy in the air and said, "Get her a nice, smooth rock!"
"A rock?!" the others exclaimed simultaneously.
"Nah, these inexperienced babies don' know a thin' about a woman." Tim gestured for Vash to squat to his level to whisper into his ear, and Vash did, leaning closer to him. "Now, what you'd wanna do is hold her, tell her you love her, start unbuttoning things, a—"
"Tim!" Emily throttled him. "You dumbass!"
"You are way too young to know anything about that!" Vash did not need to hear this from them!
Then, an idea hit him faster than the sudden fist David aimed at his abdomen. Vash noticed the attack seconds before and shifted his body so the small fist would avoid his bolts and other imperfections. It was funny since such an attack reminded him of when Meryl used to strike him as opposed to expressing her emotions. So much had changed…
Vash waited patiently at a small cafe near the Bernardelli headquarters until late in the afternoon, knowing when his short girl would clock out of work. As the other employees began leaving the building, Vash held his head and drummed his fingers against his cheek. Once he spotted the speck of white amongst the crowd—thankful that a sand steamer wasn't in town to worsen the crowds—Vash began walking toward Meryl with a bag in hand. He waited until she entered a less dense area before approaching her. He sneakily walked behind her as she continued the journey home, oblivious to his presence until he tapped her shoulder. He stopped in his tracks and cringed at the sight of her expression as she looked over her shoulder and recognized him.
"Vash…" Meryl kept her voice down, but Vash noticed the throbbing vein ready to burst through her forehead.
He raised his hands in surrender and held the bag above her. She eyed him skeptically before roughly snatching the bag from him. She stepped into an alleyway, away from strange glances, and looked inside.
"Now, I know you like the lavender flowers in the rec room, so I picked some and I… eh, I know you're on a diet too, so, so I asked the shopkeeper to pack me some, I guess, healthier options." Vash shrugged. "I can get ya something else… Happy Valentine's Day."
Meryl took out a bouquet of lavender flowers neatly wrapped in paper and balanced it in her arm, then reached for a heart-shaped box of chocolates. Her once icy glare melted and she sighed before packing the gifts away.
"You didn't have to give me anything to make me feel better, Vash." She kicked the dirt, looking away. "You stupid broom headed…" She shook her head and clenched her fists with the bag in hand. "I know why you care about Knives—you love everyone—but after everything… He still hurt you and you…" She averted her glare to stare at the sky.
Vash looked around and pulled Meryl deeper into the alleyway by her cape. Before she could insult him for easily overpowering her, he gently turned her, fell on one knee, making her blush profusely, and wrapped his arms around her lower back. His forehead came to rest on her shoulder, and as her body began to relax, he tightened his hold.
He knew Meryl cared, but he wished people he loved didn't argue or fight to get a point across.
Vash felt Meryl's head crane around to see if anyone noticed them, and she attempted to pull away once, and Vash was prepared to release her before she completed the embrace. She set the bag down and hesitantly coiled her arms around his neck. Vash began gently wobbling with Meryl in his arms, and he felt her lean against him.
"C'mon, how about I take you out? It's Valentine's Day after all." Vash nuzzled her hair, and, in a playful way, began purring.
"Yeah, uh-huh, nice try, buddy." Meryl patted his back. "We're not done arguing."
Vash froze, caught red-handed. He nodded before pulling away from her. "Figures… Oh, always me," he whined then stood. "Look, how about we go out to dinner and talk about things? It's Valentine's Day, hon!"
Meryl narrowed her eyes. "A dinner, huh?"
"Yep!" He struck a superhero pose. I didn't just think of that idea just now, nope!
Her face softened, then she smirked at Vash's antics. "Where are we going? You got a reservation, right? Because all the restaurants will be packed."
Vash forced his smile to stretch. "Er… something like that." He laced his fingers with hers and waited to see how she'd react. When she glanced at their hands, he began rubbing the back of hers with his thumb. "I'm not trying to avoid the conversation, Meryl… I just wanna celebrate today with my special short girl."
"Hmph, short girl, huh?"
"Well, yeah!" He patted her head then mussed her hair.
"You're the Humanoid Buffoon."
Vash tightened his hand into a fist and pressed it into his chest. He closed his eyes and lowered his head in mock hurt. "Aww, and here I thought you loved me."
Meryl smiled. "Who said anything about love?"
"Me." He leaned down and kissed her forehead, which granted him a glimpse of her flushed face. "Love and peace."
She snorted. "Maybe you'll find that mayfly—whatever it is."
"C'mon we better get going. Just make sure you hold my hand or I might lose you in this crowd."
Meryl punched his arm playfully, and the dull pain brought a faint chuckle from Vash. Before he knew it, Meryl yanked him out of the alley and into the crowds. Vash could tell Meryl was, even to this day, somewhat uncomfortable whenever she caught someone glancing at their hands locked together, but he wasn't one to shy away from affection—public or private. Honestly, Meryl reminded him of his brother sometimes, but that thought kind of weirded him out, so he left it in the back of his mind.
They walked together with Vash looking around to see which restaurants seemed the least populated. After visiting the second place, Meryl's suspicions rose when Vash asked if there were any seats open, and, unsurprisingly, there weren't any available for a while. When he returned to her side after being informed from another random establishment, Meryl immediately pulled him aside, crossed her arms, and glared at him.
"Uh… I thought we'd be able to get into one by now…" Vash whispered, masking his discomfort with a forced smile.
"You never made reservations."
"N-no…"
"And why are you making me walk after I had a hard day at work?"
Vash's smile dropped. "I'm sorry, hon." How inconsiderate of him. "You had a hard day?"
She gave a sharp nod. "I have exactly five long reports to write in the next two days. The chief's upset at Milly for ditching work and being late every other day. And, oh, I don't know, Vash! I've been losing sleep because someone's genocidal brother has two weapons able to destroy everything! He even hurt you again! He's always been hurting you in some way!"
Vash knew about her restless nights of sleep ever since he returned after finding his brother in his ship, but Meryl never admitted to what disturbed her sleep. "Meryl, he hasn't killed anyone in almost a decade, he's told me so." He smiled. "If Knives were here, I'd ask him to write your reports for you." He laughed, but when he opened his eyes to see Meryl snarl, he immediately closed his mouth. That wasn't the right thing to say—especially after their fight.
"That's not the point, Vash! He's unstable and dangerous! He's killed millions of people! He killed your mother!"
Vash stared at Meryl before lowering his eyes as the grief and pain washed over him. He had forgotten a lot of his past after July, but now that he regained his memories, reflecting on them still caused him pain despite how different his life and brother were now.
"Meryl, please understand. We were only a year old. What he did wasn't right, but he was doing what he thought was right, just like I was. We've followed our beliefs based on our experiences and…"
Vash, take care of Knives.
"Rem wanted me to take care of him. She loved us, but Knives—"
"You're making excuses for him!"
Vash staggered at the sudden outburst; not because she was loud, but because she expressed a painful truth. The truth always did hurt, but he had coped with pain before.
"Okay, fine," Meryl continued, "I understand that a very smart toddler thought destruction was the best option because it's as black and white as believing that someone shouldn't ever take a life. What about the years after the fall?"
Vash whined in defeat. "When we were together during our first fifteen years on the planet, we supported each other despite our differences. I managed to stop him whenever he tried to hurt people. But if hadn't left him, maybe he wouldn't have gotten worse or killed anyone. I just—"
"Taking care of Knives doesn't mean accepting how he treats you and feeling that what he chooses to do is your fault!"
Vash's face contorted in agony because he knew she was right. Still… "Hon, he's trying. You used to hit me all the time—and stalk me. Don't you see? It takes a lot to change, but he's trying and I chose to trust him. Don't you trust me?"
Meryl's arms dropped to her side and she looked down. "Of course I do. I've always trusted you to do the right thing."
"Then trust me to find a place to eat! Let's enjoy today, huh?" He pulled her by the shoulders and wrapped an arm around her neck, side hugging her. "And no, I'm not avoiding the subject. Let's just focus on us right now, is that alright?"
Meryl almost pulled away from the hug when people watched them, and when Vash noticed her discomfort, he dropped his arm. "Truce, for now, Mr. Brad Stryfe." She huffed before veering away from him. "We're not even married and you took my name."
"Okay, Brad might not stick… Hm, how about Eriks then?" He caught up and strolled beside her. "Amour? Amour Stryfe."
"Whatever you want, Brad, as long as Amour isn't stupid."
"Nope! It's cute! Like you!" He began, skipping ahead of her like one of the local kids, and Meryl couldn't help but smile at him.
"Ooooooo, Brad's in looooove!"
Vash nearly tripped at the sudden voices shouting in unison. Turning his head, he spotted the children he'd met earlier watching him from the other side of the street. They were mocking him by hugging themselves, puckering their lips, and yelling taunts about his relationship with Meryl.
He grinned, maliciously. "Here I come!" Vash began running toward them, and the children screamed as they scattered. "I'm gonna steal all your candy and nothing will be left! Run! Run away!"
"Haha, you're gonna steal it for your girlfriend!" David screeched while sticking his tongue out.
"Gah! Get over here!"
Before long, Vash resumed searching for an exquisite restaurant. They eventually fell silent, enjoying the time together without having to fill the space between them with words. They immersed themselves in the soft music and whispers from other couples around them, and Meryl became comfortable holding his hand.
Success. After half an hour of guessing which restaurant would have room for two, Vash found it: the establishment the furthest from their house. It was a restaurant that mixed French and Italian dishes, and if it weren't for the crashed ship, the recipes wouldn't have ever made it to Gunsmoke. Vash had never visited the place, and when it came to food in general, he ate and survived on the grossest of rations. He wouldn't care where he ate, but since Meryl was worth more than a can of mystery meat or beans, he picked one of the fancier places.
The only reason why the restaurant had enough space was that most people couldn't afford it.
Although Meryl was visibly upset due to Vash's lack of planning, they didn't have to wait long for the table furthest from the entrance and almost isolated from the rest of the restaurant. Like the gentlemen he was (something Rem had said long ago), Vash pulled the seat out for Meryl and he took the spot on the opposite side and admired the decorations on their table. He dragged a thin vase toward him to sniff the freshly clipped rose.
While the waitress visited their table, Vash absorbed his surroundings. It was nice hearing the sometimes chaotic sounds in the restaurant. He remembered when he had to take an odd job to cook for small businesses or wait tables. He understood how rewarding it was to work an honest day and earn an honest wage.
He ordered drinks, an expensive brand of whiskey, a sugar drink for his lovely lady, and two glasses of water. Meryl ordered a few appetizers when Vash became immersed in his thoughts again. Even though it seemed like he and Meryl were civil, Vash couldn't help but feel the tension between them still. Any moment something could trigger an argument. Anything could happen.
Maybe he should be the one to take charge and solve the whole dilemma between them.
"If it makes you feel any better," Vash began as he nibbled on a piece of bread. "I haven't really forgiven Knives..."
Before Vash spoke, Meryl was casually drumming her fingernails on the table. Now she looked at him with narrowed eyes. "But you always used to say that you did…" She dug her nails into the cloth and dragged her hand off the table. "You make excuses for him. It took him years to actually act civil around us, and he still hurts you. He still sometimes enters my mind! Milly's, too! The asshole only cares about you and himself!"
Vash began peeling the skin away from the bread and chewed on a piece. It tasted terrible; whenever he ate while in a foul mood or during an argument, things he enjoyed eating always tasted rotten or flavorless. "It's one thing to say something, it's another to actually mean it." He put down the bread to rub his prosthetic arm, and then met Meryl's gaze and her scowl vanished. She looked down at her nails, suddenly appreciating the soft sounds they made as she twiddled with her fingers.
"Then there's you," she began softly. "You still blame yourself for what he's become, don't you? Like with Wolfwood. They made their own choices. It's not your fault—"
"Yes and no," he said, his voice growing in strength with each word. "If I did things differently, then Wolfwood might've survived. Knives wouldn't have… I should've tried harder or just not have been so harsh with them. You know that the life I live isn't an easy one and mercy isn't an easy choice. I hope you can understand that." He tapped his temple and Meryl nodded. 'Knives forced my body to form the Angel Arm, but I pulled the trigger and nearly killed him. How could someone, who loves Rem, believes in her, and firmly believes that everyone has a ticket to the future, almost kill their brother? The people survived the blast, but he almost didn't. I wouldn't have known if he died because of my memory loss, and that is unforgivable in itself, really.'
She met his eyes and didn't falter. "You were defending yourself, Vash," she began, firmly. "Yes, maybe you're right and no one should take a life, but…"
"Remember those villagers? The one that tried to kill me after I shot Legato? Maybe the man that threatened to shoot me did have the right to, and it's an easy choice."
"That's not the same, Vash!" She pulled on the tablecloth, fisting it in both hands. "You don't deserve what happened to you!"
Vash shook his head before absently sipping his drink. "I'm not entirely innocent. That's why I've never pleaded for my innocence for the past, what, three decades?" He glanced at his water and gulped down a generous amount, feeling energized suddenly. "If I didn't leave Knives, what might've happened? He wouldn't have gotten worse or began killing people. For the first decade, I always stopped him."
"Then what, Vash? Waste eighty years of your life trying to stop him? Don't tell me you wouldn't miss the experiences you had after leaving him."
They paused when their waitress returned. Meryl continued to glare at him while Vash beamed at the waitress, his teeth reflecting the candlelight at his table. "I—uh, was wondering if what this says is true." Vash tapped on the menu multiple times for emphasis—childish as ever. "Are the salmon sandwiches made of real salmon?"
"No, sir," the waitress began. "They were recently created from a neighboring Plant not long ago."
"Figures," Vash grumbled. "Uh, nothing ever goes my way." Now, that wasn't entirely true anymore. He lifted the menu again before slapping it down on the table.
"Please, miss," he clapped his hands together over his chest, "please give me the largest plate full of 'em. What would you like?" He eyed his date's menu as she used it to shield her face.
The waitress giggled. "Would that be your main dish or an appetizer?"
"Appetizer, please."
"What would you like, ma'am?" the waitress turned to Meryl after writing Vash's order.
Meryl lowered her menu for a moment before straightening it on the table. "Caprese Salad with Pesto Sauce would be great."
"Aaah, that's one of my favorites. Anything else?"
When they both simultaneously answered no, the waitress smiled and excused herself. The silence between them lingered, and Vash had an urge to apologize for continuing the argument.
"I know he's your brother," Meryl said, at last, reading the menu to avoid looking at him. "He's your family, and your only family thanks to him." Vash winced and she continued. "Just because he's family, that doesn't mean he has the right to hurt you. I had nightmares when we separated after we tried looking for Wolfwood's cross. How could you leave me like that? Screw the deal! You could've died, and for what?"
"You know I'm a firm believer in people changing to strive for a better future." Vash finished his water before continuing. "Everyone deserves that chance. I gave Knives that chance, and even though he makes mistakes, he's trying and I'm willing to be patient with him. I trust him this time." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"You trust him? Vash, you didn't listen to me when you gave him that gun for Christmas! Look what happened! Look what he did!"
"I did trust him to some extent before… He proved to me that he can be trusted with a promise."
Before Meryl could respond, shouting erupted from another section of the restaurant. Vash turned to where the commotion originated from while Meryl stood to get a better view of the situation. At a table near theirs, he spotted their waitress and overheard her apologies to another customer about some trivial mistake. The waitress obviously was distressed, eyes glistening more than when she visited Vash and Meryl's table. Vash's eyes widened when the rude customer held onto her wrist when she reached for the supposedly wrong drink on the table. Unconsciously, Vash's body began responding to the situation. He planned to do something about this mess.
"Vash, security guards will handle it," Meryl hissed. "I want to prevent a catastrophe and it's our date night!"
"I should do something," he mumbled. "He could have a weapon."
"You don't have to be the hero for everybody and every little thing that happens! That's how you get hurt or worse! Please wait."
Vash pouted. "You're mean! You and I know I wasn't entirely responsible for damages all the time!"
The gunman reluctantly locked his fingers together and balanced his chin over them on the table. A minute later, a security guard ordered the rude customer to vacate the premises on his own or by force. The sighs of relief from multiple people weren't unnoticed as the inconsiderate man eventually left by himself.
"Humanity at its finest, isn't that what Knives would say?" Meryl asked, crossing her arms. "The jerk, how could anyone treat someone like that?"
Vash couldn't argue against that. The bystander effect was prevalent—people dehumanized each other at times, and the victims and heroes were given gratitude for their efforts or not.
Eventually, the waitress returned with a balanced tray. "He-Hello again." She forced a smile at Vash, one he was all too familiar with whenever he stared at a mirror.
"Are you okay?" he asked with a genuine look of concern.
The waitress's smile dropped for a moment before she smirked. "Oh yeah, people like that come in. Once the sheriff was called, you know." She diligently placed the two dishes, so large they nearly covered the surface of the table. "Let me know when you two are ready to order again."
The couple picked at their meal and slowly chewed on their respected dishes. Meryl ate with some dignity, holding her utensils correctly while wiping her mouth whenever the food stuck to her lips. Vash was something else entirely. In less than a minute, he stuffed the salmon sandwiches in his mouth, chewing briefly before he'd swallow and bite into another. When they finished, their waitress returned and they ordered their main dishes; Meryl a simple plate of pasta and salad while Vash ordered the whole menu. Again, they tried to disregard each other, but Vash often glanced at her before he helped himself with his drinks or the food.
Meryl yanked the napkin from her shirt and began playing with it, avoiding Vash's eyes. "When he left for those months," she began, "didn't it feel nice to just move on with your life? It took us years to get together because guess what? What, you might ask? His majesty always degraded you for anything he thought was wrong."
Vash didn't respond right away. When he did, he stared at the rose at their table. "Yeah, he does that a lot. It's not as bad as it once was..."
"He's probably the most human thing I've ever met, but for the worst reasons," Meryl huffed, leaning back in her chair. "He supposedly cares about you, and you know me, being in insurance and all, I've read some reports. It's always a loved one who knows how to hurt you the most…"
Vash awkwardly rested his hands on his lap, head down, and then he looked up with only his eyes. "You're talking about your parents, aren't you?"
Meryl stammered, but once she composed herself, she straightened her back, glaring. "No." She seemed to have doubted her previous resolve. "This isn't about them!" She slammed her fist on the table. "Do you know what I had to do to be happy? I had to cut my family out of my life! Maybe this is what you have to do."
Vash couldn't help but smile at her. He knew she meant well, but he wasn't an idiot. He reached for her fist on the table and held it in his hands, gingerly rubbing his thumb over her delicate fingers. "You shouldn't worry about little ol' me, Meryl, and I shouldn't worry so much about you. I know you can handle yourself, but can you trust me that I chose to let Knives hurt me?"
She pulled her hand back and sarcastically said, "That makes it all better, Vash."
He looked defeated and slowly returned his hands to his side of the table. "It's complicated… It's just, uh, I shouldn't let him hurt me, but I also understand him. Listen, if he does anything like that again, I promise you I'll defend myself. How's that?" He cocked his head to the side, eyes glistening like a lost puppy. "I've always been harder on Knives than most people because I want him to be better and to do better. He's my brother and more knowledgeable than most, so he has the opportunity to learn and grow, but so do I. We're old and stubborn, so give us some time and trust me."
Meryl sighed, digesting her meal and his words. She brushed her bangs to the side while contemplating her decision. Then, before Vash spoke again, she nodded. He grinned and offered his hands, palms facing the ceiling. With no one watching, she hesitantly placed her hands in his.
"Even when I last saw him, I said that it'll take time and when I'm ready, I'll choose to really forgive him or not. I want to forgive him, but I still need time. You know what they say about resentment… It's like drinking poison and expecting the other person to suffer."
"Would you need a few more decades to give him that forgiveness ?" Meryl asked, her eyebrows raised skeptically.
"N-no! No, I don't."
"Good, because I won't stay young forever!"
Vash continued to smile but his heart lurched. She was right; she wasn't going to live forever, like him.
The waitress returned with their meals. Vash could sense that she was miserable, concealing her frustrations and disgust behind a fake smile.
"You two doing okay?" she began setting the plates in front of them.
"Can I speak to your manager?"
The poor woman's smile disappeared and beats of sweat dropped from her forehead. Meryl narrowed her eyes at Vash, obviously awaiting an answer without outright asking for it.
"Was there something wrong...?"
"I just need to speak with whoever it is."
The waitress reluctantly nodded and placed Vash's last plate beside other dishes.
"I didn't think her service was bad, Vash. She's not lazy, like you."
Vash shook his head and chuckled. Minutes later as Meryl remained silent to observe, a huge man with broad shoulders stood before them. His black shirt and khakis pants were a complete contrast compared to the waitress' uniforms.
"Is there a problem, sir?" Even the manager's voice could've choked Vash to death.
From a serious gunman to a dork, Vash looked up with a sheepish smile. "Sir, I just wanted to tell you," he waved at the waitress beside her boss, "that she is such a great waitress!"
Everyone was dumbfounded at the avalanche of compliments toward the stunned waitress. Once Vash was finished, she reminded him of Meryl as she blushed before covering her mouth with a notepad.
"Thank you for informing me of her performance," the manager said. "She does work hard since she's trying to save to move to Octovern."
"W-What? No kidding? That sounds like a plan! I went there a few times and they have some of the best donuts!"
Once everyone settled down, the manager seemed happier as he returned to his duties. The waitress mouthed a "thank you" before a customer demanded her attention.
"That was… why couldn't all of the men do that when I was a waitress?" Meryl scowled as she stared at the flickering candle on their table.
Vash snorted, recalling the way his insurance girl fit nicely in a maid's uniform. "Well, if she's in a good mood, then her customer service might improve and might change the foul mood of other guests. It's not a lot, but sometimes in order to solve bigger problems, you have to change a little at a time."
"One step at a time, I guess…" Meryl continued to eat, and when they lapsed in long seemingly endless stretches of silence, they couldn't stop glancing at each other as they ate.
After finishing their meals and leaving a generous tip, they held each other's hands and enjoyed the stroll through the streets. It didn't take long for them to return home. Vash opened the door for her, and once they stepped inside, he locked it. Milly wasn't around, but knowing her, she was out buying groceries or writing letters in her room.
Meryl pulled Vash's arm to the stairs and he nearly tripped at the sudden motion. When she reached the second floor, she stopped and faced away from him. Curious, he waited for her to do something and since she was a few steps above him, she stood at his eye level.
"What's wrong, hon?" Vash asked, tugging her cape to attract her attention. "Did I say something stupid again?"
"No. No, I've just been thinking… Knives just keeps hurting you." She clenched her fists. "Don't let him. Promise?"
Vash looked down. What if Knives did do something again and he'd have to defend himself? Could he do it without harming him? Could he keep all of these promises forever?
"I'll try. I'll also try to be here for you like when you and Milly were for me all those years ago."
Meryl looked over her shoulder, and Vash grinned at the corners of her mouth reaching for her flushed cheeks. Once again, she grabbed his sleeve and wordlessly guided him toward their room. Amused, he let her.
Inside, Meryl yanked his arm and pulled him toward the bed, and he landed on his rear with a grunt. Chuckling, he watched her coy, dragging steps as she approached him. She stood before him while he sat on the edge of the bed, legs slightly parted. He circled his arms around her, gingerly pulling her in between his knees. His heart began racing in anticipation as he felt her arms circle his neck, drawing him closer to her face. He closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her forehead, and then he dropped another an inch from the last, then another until he reached her nose, pecking the tip. He sighed in contentment as she grazed his scalp, then he frowned when her hand lingered in one particular spot near his ear.
"What do you think this is?" Meryl twisted a few strands of black hair hidden underneath his sleek golden locks.
"I dunno." He tightened his hold on her. "Knives never mentioned something like this."
"He'd better know. You're not allowed to lose your hair color, Mr. Stryfe." She brought her knees on the bed and seated between his legs.
"Yes, ma'am! Maybe I should insure my hair just in case. Ya never know."
Meryl chuckled, and Vash couldn't help but chortle at his own sense of humor. He threw his head back as he laughed, his hair slipping from his shoulders to hang from his head. He gasped, eyes snapping open at the sensation of Meryl's lips softly planting tingling kisses on the nape of his neck. His hand found itself cupping the back of her head while the other explored the rest of her body, fumbling with the hem of her skirt. He squealed when her teeth pinched his skin, but once she continued kissing the other side of his neck, he quietly groaned.
Meryl pulled away. Vash raised his head, eyes twinkling, and watched her cape crumble to the floor along with her skirt. Now in only her leggings and shirt, she glanced at him while undoing the blue knots of her uniform.
"Pervert," she teased.
"Hey, I may be a bit of a perv, but I'm just admiring my mayfly." He raised his chin.
"Oh, look at the time." She turned her wrist over. "I forgot about that report for the chief."
Vash made a protesting noise. He mock-wept. "Thinking of other men at a time like this? How cruel, insurance girl!"
"Oh, shut up!" She playfully pushed him, straddling his waist on the bed, hands massaging over the areas of unscathed torso.
"I'm just sayin'… Is the chief cute?" Vash raised a brow.
"No! He's an old man, like you!" She jabbed a nail into his chest.
"Then I better keep an eye on him. There isn't enough of you to go around, short girl!" He stuck his tongue out.
Her brow twitched. "You—" She sharply inhaled. "V-Vash…"
Vash snickered. He began massaging her rear while his hand slipped into the front of her leggings. She lowered herself over him, elbows digging into the bed on each side of his head. She began twisting locks of golden, soft hairs around her fingers.
"I love you, Meryl."
She stopped playing with his hair and gazed into his eyes. Before she could respond, Vash lifted himself to kiss her parted lips.
After a close call from Milly knocking on their door, they relaxed and basked in each other's warmth. Together, they cuddled underneath the not-so-pristine bedsheets and blankets. Meryl rested her head over Vash's chest where the grate wouldn't cause discomfort. Keeping her eyes closed, she began running her fingers across the ridges of his muscles, the warm metals protruding from his torso, and often leaned up to kiss his jaw. He chuckled whenever she did, and when he finally raised his head from a pillow, he seductively wiggled his eyebrows at the view of her breasts flattening over his chest. She pinched his side, which caused him to whimper.
Out of every guy she could've chosen, of course, she picked such a handsome devil. Vash stifled a laugh at his sudden thought.
As he continued to massage her scalp, the rush of ecstasy began fading. Whenever she glanced at him, it was impossible to ignore their problems for long.
They had talked about this before ever getting together, and even though the future seemed far away, Meryl didn't understand how quickly life would pass. He'd seen it countless times before, and especially whenever he visited the floating ship before it crashed. He knew every relationship had its complications and a strong couple could overcome most obstacles, but he doubted anyone else on the planet had similar problems. (As if Knives would've ever dated anyone, but Vash could've hoped.) He still feared Meryl would waste her time and what life she had, and the thought of watching her die in his arms from age never sat well in his stomach.
He wanted this, nonetheless. He tightened his hold on her as he tried to convince his heart to allow himself to love without worries.
"Meryl…" Vash began, but instead of facing the love of his life, he was counting the cracks in the ceiling.
"Hmmm?" Meryl curled closer to Vash's side. "If it was for the bite, I'm not apologizing for it." She grinned, eyes still closed.
"N-no. It's," he paused, "something else."
Vash's tone of voice caught her attention, and she propped her upper body with an elbow. "What's wrong?"
Vash's head shot up and he felt guilty for making her worry. "Oh, uh… I love you."
Meryl narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "Spill it, Vash. Is there something wrong?"
Vash's mouth thinned as he bit his inner lips. He brought her closer to his shoulder to kiss her temple as his hand absently caressed her body.
"Would you wanna marry me, hon?"
Silence. The longer she didn't answer, the more awkward Vash felt, and the worse he felt, the more he regretted asking such a question. He had been thinking about asking her for a while, and even though they had talked about their future together, marriage had rarely been part of such discussions. Was he being rejected? It had to have been the aging problems—that was it. Rejection, but she was still in his arms.
"I would."
"Eh…" Vash made another inaudible noise. "R-really?"
"I would, but…" Meryl lowered her head and tucked her chin over her chest.
"But?" Vash mentally cursed at himself for being so stupid. (Maybe Knives and Meryl were right about him being an idiot.)
"You told me you've always been worried about my life expectancy, and, you know me, I try not to be a burden or complicate things—risk prevention. You'll be dragging a mummified corpse around eventually if we're legally chained together." She wrinkled her face. "Don't get me started on the meager insurance benefits for married couples…"
"Oh, c'mon, hon!" Vash brought the back of his hand to his forehead. "Say it isn't so! My insurance girl knows about insurance stuff?!" He cracked open an eye and grinned.
Meryl snorted before sighing, puffing warm breath on Vash's chest. "I never expected that you'd ask, broom-head, and I wasn't planning on settling down, but did anyway, I guess."
Vash mumbled to himself before moving his body to sit up against the bed frame. Eventually, Meryl joined him and they sat together in silence for some time.
"Yeah, I can see why. It always bothers me whenever I have the itch to wander to another town, but here I am." Vash pinched himself just to prove it, which earned him a chuckle from her. "I never expected to settle anywhere ever again either."
"Vash," Meryl spoke quietly, "my family's very traditional, which is why I'll probably never introduce you to them, a man I wasn't planning on marrying but who I want to spend the rest of my life with regardless."
A doubtful smile lightly tugged Vash's mouth. "I really want to share my life with you... I-I'm still afraid." His eyes glistened as tears threatened to trickle from the corners of his eyes. "So many people died around me." He slowly faced Meryl, who was frozen at the sight of his face contorted with agony. "I don't want anyone to suffer. I don't want to see you get hurt, but if we're together…" Vash held his head in his hands, pressing his palms against his eyes.
Meryl tightened her hands into fists, accidentally pinching his skin. She then climbed onto Vash again, parted her legs to straddle him, and circled her arms around his neck. He hiccuped, and Meryl began massaging the back of his neck while her forehead rested on his head.
"You can't live in fear, Vash. Please, how long have you been afraid? Your whole life, right?" She leaned back to pry his hands from his face. He continued to look down, avoiding her determined eyes. "I've known the dangers and chose to follow you because who you are is worth risking my safety for! Don't you get it, idiot!? I want to be here with you, Vash!" She tightened her hold on his wrists. "Do you know how much it hurt, how painful it was whenever you left me? Milly? I bet Wolfwood felt the same way."
Vash sniffled, wiping his nose with the back of his hand after freeing it from Meryl's possessive grip. "He died because he was involved in my life. I've been trying to settle with you, Milly, and Knives after all of these years, but even without a bounty, people could still try to hurt us. I feel like I'm stuck too. I've been stuck."
Minutes passed before Meryl startled Vash by cupping his face, dragging her thumb over his tear trails.
"My parents wanted me to be an obedient housewife to some other member of our church, and that's fine and dandy for some, but it's not for me. I was stuck for a while too."
"Hmm." Vash remained quiet but gave her his full attention.
"My family isn't bad, no, but the thought of being cooped up inside and only doing chores and whatever is just…"
"Prison?" Vash asked with a hoarse voice before he cleaned his throat. "Stuck."
She nodded. "Even today, I feel like I'm stuck here. It's been so long since we went on an adventure, and, even though I dislike the bastard, Knives' leaving was exciting when we all left together."
Vash cocked his head to the side. "You miss the adventure?"
Meryl's face flushed, and Vash was left to wonder why. "We have adventures of our own here, but it isn't the same as before. Tell me, genius, would a woman accept being assigned to chase the Humanoid Typhoon?"
"Huh, I always thought there was some insurance scam or someone just hated your bitchy temper."
"Hey, I'm not as bitchy as before!" She flicked his nose, and he yelped.
"Still bitchy," Vash dared in a mumble.
"I can take care of myself, Vash. I've been doing it for years before I met you and I'll keep doing it. I just never expected to worry about creepy assassins, a weirdo with your hand, and a genocidal brother that's about as idiotic as you."
"Better not let him catch you saying that when he gets back." He laughed while trying to clear his nose. "I know you can. Sometimes I just worry, is all."
"We have a great insurance plan, we'll be fine." Meryl huffed, tilting her chin up with confidence and attitude.
"Oh, I don't doubt that! If all of my hair turns black, you should research how to cover the yellow."
Meryl giggled, then when silence lingered for a few minutes, her fixed gaze locked onto Vash's eyes. "If we don't work out—" Meryl began, pausing to gather her thoughts. "If something happens—or when you run out of love because you're too busy loving everything that breathes—no matter how many years pass, I would never think what we have is a waste of time."
Vash sighed in relief, but even so, the fear he had endured for over a century would always be present, but it was his decision to allow it to control him.
Eventually, they began a pleasant movie marathon and watched them on a huge screen and monitor. (One that Knives had tinkered with and added files from the crashed ship's databases.) Vash even had the romantic movies Rem used to force him and Knives to watch. Sometimes Vash couldn't believe over a hundred years had passed since then. He knew he and Knives would never have the same relationship they had as children ever again, but at least they were trying now.
Vash drew Meryl closer to him while they watched a romantic movie, dropping a kiss on her head. Squeezing his hand, she tipped her head back and kissed his neck. Before he could return the favor, she snatched one of the Valentine's Day chocolates he brought her.
"H-Hey!" Vash whined, yanking the box from her grasp. "You said you didn't want any!"
Meryl stuck her tongue out and annoyingly munched on the chocolate, smacking her lips while chewing.
"Hmph, and you tell me to close my mouth!" He huffed before stuffing his face with a few small chocolates.
They turned to the screen when a particular scene caught their attention. The couple announced their love for each other and began to discuss how they'd get married and what they'd do afterward. While he and Meryl couldn't travel to Paris for a honeymoon, the idea of traveling turned Vash's mental gears as an idea began developing.
"I'd give them a few years before they divorce," Meryl stated as she began wiping her hands with a napkin. "He doesn't listen to her enough."
"Maybe if she didn't nag him so often…" Vash mumbled to himself. "Well, he's kind of a jerk, huh? Geesh, think you'd know a guy." Vash crossed his arms behind his head against the bed frame.
"They shouldn't get married because of what their parents want," Meryl bitterly said, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why would they wanna visit a city for their wedding when they have all of Earth to visit?"
"Who cares what the destination is, as long as we have each other," Vash blurted out, grinning.
Meryl turned to him with a raised brow. " We ?"
Vash nodded. "Wedon't have to marry to travel or vacation together. Besides, if we'd marry, you'd have Knives for a brother-in-law."
Meryl wrinkled her nose in disdain. "You think I haven't considered that you broom-head? You'd have my family to deal with, too."
"Have you thought about contacting them or visiting?"
Meryl looked solemn all of a sudden, and Vash regretted asking, knowing she and her family weren't on good terms. Whose family wasn't? Milly's, of course.
"I wrote a letter to them once before the Fifth Moon incident. I haven't heard from them."
"Would you try again? It's been so long, hon. Milly and I could help you with the letter!"
"... Maybe." She stole another sweet from under his nose because he let her. "It's not like I need their support or whatever." She began chewing on the sweet. "Now, about this vacation idea…"
Vash stretched to relieve some of the tension across his body. "Hm, maybe we just need to get outta here. Maybe a break from this city is what we need."
"I don't even know if I have vacations."
"Hah, overachiever. Never took a break, huh? Then, you can just quit." Vash shrugged.
Meryl's eyebrow twitched. "I have responsibilities, Vash. I can't just leave and quit whenever!"
"And why not?"
"Because… they'd need me and my reports…"
"Oh, suuure! Hon, even though people are learning about what life was like on Earth, many are still illiterate. You can write and read efficiently, so I doubt they'd be able to replace Meryl Stryfe easily—especially with your background and experience. Bet you can just quit and come back to the same job. It might be a long, long vacation."
"Wouldn't you whine about my safety or whatever? You won't give me a stupid speech about how miserable you are and how everyone in your life should avoid you because of it?"
Vash shifted uncomfortably. "You can handle yourself, right? No more bounties. No more crazy assassins. No more red coats or spiked hair. People don't recognize me anymore—not even people who once lived on the ship. Besides, the itch to adventure has been out of my reach for some time. Meryl," Vash grabbed her hand, "would you do me the honors of scratching it with me?"
She snorted. "Only if you'd reach for mine. Hm, I'll think about it, Vash. No promises."
"Yes, ma'am."
A week; it took only a week to decide, and while Vash had been working with the Doc to assist him with maintaining the ship, as usual, Meryl had scheduled, planned, and estimated how much money was required for a vacation. When Vash asked what was their destination, Meryl answered January.
On the sand steamer, they leaned over the railing and watched the crowds interact with each other in New Oregon. They continued waving at Milly, who was still cheering from the dock. Vash lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the suns as he looked up at the crashed ship. It all felt like some fever dream. He grasped onto Meryl's hand. No, it was real. She was here. Was his search over?
Vash felt as if he finally found love and peace.
While traveling, they encountered some of Gunsmoke's finest people, and even though Vash sometimes panicked at the anxiety of having Meryl with him during such conflicts, they could protect each other. She wasn't Wolfwood, but she was about as skilled with her cape and derringers.
When they finally reached January, they discovered that a sand steamer was headed for the next few cities. A two-week vacation turned into a few months, then months became a year, and they couldn't be happier. They often wandered together through the desert on foot, with Meryl planning when and where to go, and sending Milly letters.
While they were staying in Octovern for a while, Milly sent them a concerning letter: Knives had returned to New Oregon after a year away. The way Milly described his reaction when he couldn't find Vash was comical. Apparently, Knives instructed Milly to inform them that he would meet the couple eventually; he could simply follow Vash through their connection. That somewhat kindled Vash's anxieties, but he tried not to dwell on it as they traveled.
When they reached December, they stayed within the city before traveling to Paradise, where Wolfwood's church was located. Most of the kids Vash met the last time he visited were still there. Melanie hadn't changed one bit, and everyone warmed up to Meryl instantly. At least if he and Meryl ever wanted children, there was plenty to choose from one day.
A week later, Vash was playing with the children while Melanie was teaching Meryl how to cook a unique dish able to feed a family of ten for only fifteen double dollars. A little girl managed to drag Vash to the ground by his hair, which now hung past his chest. The other children pinned him down while he struggled and they laughed and teased. Suddenly, Vash overpowered them. He stood and stared into the distance toward the city and spotted a peculiar figure headed for the orphanage.
'Brother.'
Vash shook as a familiar prickle chilled his body. 'Knives.'
'You took your pet on a long walk, I see.'
Vash frowned. 'She's not my pet, she's my partner.'
'I have a surprise for you.'
Vash furrowed his brows and studied the bulb looming over the city in the distance, blocking a number of towering buildings.
He'd trust Knives. He had to remind himself why he gave Knives his trust to begin with.
When Vash concentrated on the dot, he widened his eyes, snarling at a familiar shape. He glanced over his shoulders at the children watching from behind him, and saw they were flinching. He must have been glaring.
'Meryl,' Vash sent out.
'Huh? What?'
'It's Knives. I don't know what it is, but he has a 'surprise' for me. Can you and Melanie keep everyone inside?'
'I will. Please remember your promise.'
'Maybe he won't do anything, but,' Vash looked away from Knives as he neared, ashamed, 'I wish I still didn't have any doubts.'
He went to confront Knives away from the children, and as his strides ate up the distance between them, Knives sauntered toward him. The image before Vash didn't sit right with him' in fact, it outright disgusted him. Knives shouldn't have been carrying that. If he were to use it, it wouldn't have been full of mercy.
Knives halted a few feet in front of Vash, wearing a brown desert wrap cloak that concealed the upper half of his red SEEDs uniform. His face was obscured by the hood and Vash spotted the blond hairs slumping over his forehead and sticking to his skin whenever a gust of wind tugged the hood. Vash's eyes traveled down to analyze the holster at Knives' waist and found both Long Colts. He felt his face soften at the sight of the black cat—the same one he had left with Knives over a year ago—perched on his brother's shoulder. Vash lifted his gaze to follow the straps around Knives' waist that connected to the heavy cross against his back. Milly would've mentioned it in her letters…
"Did you lie to me?" Vash asked in a whisper.
Knives dragged his hoodie from his head and ran a hand through his disheveled hair, glaring. "About?"
"The cross… I asked if you knew what happened to it."
A mocking smile was the only response Knives gave for a moment. "I did offer for you to search through my ship, didn't I?"
Vash opened his mouth but paused. His face wrinkled, but he then dropped his gaze. "Yeah, you did… What are you doing with it?"
"You obviously were concerned about it, so I'm returning it to…" He spotted the children peering from the door. "This was the priest's orphanage."
Vash didn't respond, but Knives got the answer anyway.
He neared the church. Vash raised an arm to stop him.
"Afraid I'll corrupt them?"
"You don't even like kids. Why would you wanna go in?"
They stared at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Then, Vash sighed. Instead of keeping his arm up, he moved it to place it on Knives' unoccupied shoulder.
"Nyaaa," the cat cried from the other.
"It's good to see you. I'm sorry—I just didn't expect this." Vash looked at the cross.
Knives reached for the cat's head and scratched behind her ears. She purred before jumping off to wander the grounds of the church.
"Did ya name her?" Vash asked.
"No."
"Oh... How come?"
"Naming her would imply I've domesticated her. She's free to do as she pleases." Knives trudged toward the church, leaving Vash behind before he stopped to look over his shoulder. "Coming?"
Vash followed Knives around the buildings and communicated with Meryl about what was going on. They turned the corner where Wolfwood's grave was accompanied by the children's gifts and innocent letters.
Knives gazed at Wolfwood's grave, then he closed his eyes to concentrate on sensing if people were eavesdropping.
"What?" Vash asked.
'Based on Legato's reports,' Knives began through telepathy, 'the Eye of Michael, the Plant worshiping cult, held this orphanage hostage. More specifically, Evergreen did after following my instructions in order to control the priest to serve me along with promising the money from your bounty.'
Vash suppressed the urge to frown at the thought of Knives allowing people to kill children. 'You mentioned the cult before… What happened to it?'
Knives shrugged. 'Evergreen was one of their leaders and part of a branch that trained children into becoming contracted killers. There are multiple branches and their influence is extensive and secretive. Legato manipulated Evergreen and the priest not to disclose my location for my protection within the bulb, and they were the only humans within the cult to acknowledge my existence.'
'What happened to Wolfwood's mentor?' When Knives' brows slightly furrowed, Vash gave him a look. "You killed him."
"Yes."
Vash grimaced.
"He attempted to infiltrate my ship to kill me."
Vash looked torn, then he raised his eyes, looking confused. "I just wish things would've… I don't know."
Suddenly, Knives looked tired. He pulled the strap of the cross while looking around. 'If the cult's influence or pathetic members are present here, then I should reveal the surprise in December instead.' He shifted to face the December in the distance and began the journey there. Vash followed close behind. "Oh, here." Knives upholstered the silver gun and handed it to Vash.
Vash stared at the cleaned gun which reflected the suns' rays, blinding him. He reached for it, then pulled his hand away. Knives sighed and tossed it in his direction, and Vash instinctively caught it. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously as he held it in one hand, clicking open the cylinder, and then counting the bullets before closing it. It was way lighter than the last time he held it. Vash tried to ask for an explanation, but Knives remained silent for the whole trip.
They entered the city an hour later, and Knives led Vash to the nearest Plant. Vash watched his brother carefully as they maneuvered through the crowd and was relieved to see that Knives wasn't manipulating people to avoid him as they walked. Then he was curious when Knives entered an abandoned building that towered over the surrounding ones, and they ascended the rickety stairs. They eventually reached the roof, which was at the same level as the tip of the bulb nearby.
Knives balanced the cross to stand behind him as he stepped toward the edge of the roof. One more step and he would've fallen four stories. He turned to face Vash, arms crossed over his chest, and his face gave nothing away. Vash gazed at the standing cross, then at his brother.
"Why are we up here?"
Without making a sound, Knives uncrossed his arms and stepped forward behind the cross. Without tipping it over, he grasped onto a particular latch and the leather straps flew in every direction while the ribbon cloth fluttered around them as if they were waving lines of foam on a seashore. Vash gasped, eyes wide at the cross once it was exposed.
Vash recognized only the skull trigger in the center. Everything else had changed. He frowned, then his whole body looked fatigued. Tears spilled from his eyes at the sight of the cross that was once his best friend's weapon, his life, a symbol—Wolfwood's cross. Now, it was something different, which Vash seethed at since the cross wasn't Knives'. It didn't belong to anyone anymore, really. Knives altered it to his liking, controlled it, shaped it at his mercy. It wasn't right, but try as he might, Vash couldn't help but admire the precise craftsmanship.
Knives had smoothed out and replaced various pieces of the frame with wooden parts. The long parts of the cross were plated with dense finished wooden pieces, and the creases and lines indicating shifting parts were carefully cut and smoothed. Carved vines curled and intertwined from the circle of the trigger and wrapped around the limbs of the cross, resembling the grapevines Knives cultivated in his garden in New Oregon.
"Why…?"
Knives didn't bother responding as he hooked his fingers through the skull trigger of the cross. Gracefully, he hoisted it a few feet off the ground without averting his neutral eyes from his brother.
'Do you trust me, Vash?'
Knives' voice thundered in Vash's head, and it was impossible to ignore. Vash had shot Knives with the same weapon. Was this moment some kind of twisted revenge scheme?
'I-I don't understand… What are you doing?' Vash moved his hands to clutch the silver gun at his hip, the lighter gun—the gun he had used to save and ruin lives.
'It's a surprise.'
Vash jolted, taking a step back as the humming echoes began. Spinning, hot metal bits shot out from the wooden plates of the cross, and Vash realized that the screws drilled into the wood shot away from the weapon. The plating on the arms thudded to the ground, revealing two balls of pulsing, kinetic light that crackled and buzzed as they expanded.
Vash shook his head in disbelief, panic set in. On each side of the cross was a cylinder suspended in the air within the frame of the cross, similar to their Long Colts. Knives had created another weapon that combined the powers within their individual ones. With both hands, Knives held the cross by the trigger as the Angel Arms began manifesting. The veins of the Angel Arms pulsed as both of Knives' arms grew, one half manifesting the silver Angel Arm and the other his black one. Together, the arms began sprouting multiple wings from the center and two huge insect-like abdomens sprung from each shoulder, turning Knives into a majestic feathered entity.
Knives was going to destroy the city.
It was aimed at Vash.
They both had promises to keep.
"Knives!" Vash shifted into a defensive position, ready to fight if necessary. "What the hell are you doing?!"
Knives laughed as the new weapon grew the Angel Arm cannon with multiple haunting faces and mummified bodies melded together. "This is also what we can do, dear brother!"
Vash froze. It had been almost a decade since he had seen such a weapon and nearly thirty years since July. His right arm trembled at the memories to this day. His brother—the only person he'd relied on for their first fifteen years—the little boy who grew into a stranger who so long ago had murdered a man, and sat nonchalantly on his desk as if life were meaningless.
"Stop it! Why?!"
"You don't trust me?" Knives shouted over the noises from the new Angel Arms.
They had gone through this. Knives had earned his trust…
"Please, just tell me what you're doing!"
The noise—the awful, alien noises—were disturbing, reminding Vash that he himself wasn't human. He closed his eyes as the cries from the activated cannon invaded his head, hurting him, possessing him. The bright light was warm, like a crackling campfire on a cool morning right before sunrise. The light engulfed him. Vash bit back his wailing cries, wishing he were deaf so this could end.
The screams. People were screaming. Vash instinctively felt his hand hover over his gun. But… His rational thoughts hit him harder than the whirring noises and radiating heat from the cores of the Angel Arms. If these Angel Arms were anything like his previous experiences with them, everything around them should've been reduced to rubble. Knives wouldn't have risked their lives by standing on a building. What was going on?
'Open your eyes, Vash."
Vash's eyes were fastened together, unwilling to obey the commanding voice. He had slapped his ears and nearly popped his eardrums in the process. As he struggled, he heard Knives stepping toward him. What was that crunching noise? Leaves? Grass?
Vash's trembling hands gradually lowered to his sides. He felt the weight of his eyelids reluctantly lifting from his eyes, and once they adjusted to the lack of brightness, he started at the color green.
Eden.
The cross reverted to its new form with Knives nonchalantly leaning over it for support, enjoying Vash's astonished expression, no doubt. Where a sea of sand once surrounded the city now was a vast field of grass that layered above the sand. Trees and other crops grew in the hundreds throughout and beyond the city, as if they had always been naturally growing. The radius of the blast was double the one from July or a single Angel Arm, and the foreign green pigment stretched for iles—maybe even over a hundred.
His brother had managed to terraform. Knives Millions: The killer, the abusive brother, the human-hating Plant had developed a way to terraform without taking a life. A solution.
A future.
Tears spilled as Vash charged for Knives, wrapping his arms around him. Vash clutched to Knives' cloak and buried his head in his twin's shoulder.
"I forgive you. I-I really mean it."
Knives lapsed into silence before whispering, "You damn idiot." He completed the embrace, returning the hug for the first time in over a century.
