After following Knives' specific instructions on maintaining the garden, Vash thought he deserved an apple as a reward. He twisted one off a branch, gazed toward the suns, and stared at the towering SEEDs ship over the city wall, which the government had built around the city years ago.
"Disnis dewishus," Vash hummed through stuffed cheeks before taking another bite of the apple. Swallowing, he then said, "See, told ya the girls and I can take care of your little Eden." He turned to face the entire garden.
"Hmph," Knives huffed as he carefully harvested grapes and arranged them in a basket. "Sorry for having doubts about someone who's called the Humanoid Typhoon." He tossed a grape in his mouth and smirked as the taste satisfied his palate.
"Still can't believe you've been taking care of all this by hand. You easily made that geo-plant years ago when we fought. Why don't ya make it easier for yourself and just make everything grow right away?"
"The point of a hobby is to become immersed in a pleasurable activity in one's leisure time. How could I enjoy cultivating the land, viniculture, and the like if I instantly nurture it? Unlike you, I'm patient enough to not seek instant gratification." Knives knelt in front of a short row of white strawberries and delicately inspected them.
"I do not!"
Knives glanced over his shoulder, unconvinced.
"Well… Not that often anymore…" Vash rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
"Right, your pet would disapprove of her master's impulsive nature or when you'd copulate with other women."
Vash's cheeks went crimson, redder than the apples. "N-no! I didn't even do that when I was single! And Meryl isn't my pet!"
"Then why were you known to be the worst womanizer?" Knives stood and returned to his brother's side.
"Because… eh... people took my identity." Vash quirked a brow. "Geesh, for someone who prides himself with being a Renaissance man, you sure are taking your time to learn how to respect Meryl, and I didn't think you'd ever listen to rumors instead of facts, Knives."
The older twin opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by the sound of a glass door sliding open.
"That's because Mr. Vash is a terrible womanizer, Mr. Knives. It's a fact."
Knives snorted while Vash made a face at Milly.
"I was wondering what was taking you two so long." Milly glanced at the apple core in Vash's hand and the small basket of grapes in Knives'.
"Well Mr. Perfectionist here," Vash aimed a thumb at his brother, "wanted to inspect every single berry to make sure we took care of things while he was gone."
Knives' nose wrinkled as he slapped Vash's hand away.
"Don't worry, Mr. Knives, my family owns a ranch and farm, remember? I told you about them lots of times before!"
"How could I forget," Knives murmured.
"I made sure Mr. Vash followed your instructions to the littlest detail."
"You're going to allow a human to upstage you?"
Vash shrugged. "People can't be good at everything."
"We can," Knives stated as a matter of factly. "Maybe if you didn't waste years perfecting your wandering techniques, you'd be comparable to my level of skill."
"Well, Mr. Knives," Milly began with an innocent smile, "Mr. Vash went around loving everyone and learning how to be compassionate for years, and that's something you're still struggling with."
Now it was Vash's turn to laugh, and he couldn't contain his cackles. Knives kicked Vash's shin, and the gunman wheezed and gagged on his saliva.
"Since Meryl is busy writing a long report for the chief, would one of you like to come with me to the post office?"
Knives glanced at Vash out of the corner of his eyes.
"Hey, this'll be a great time to practice your compassion skills, Knives." Vash elbowed his brother playfully.
"I'm showing you compassion right now by not hitting you again."
"It's okay if you two don't wanna come. Ever since you terraformed the city, it's been even more crowded than usual!"
The twins concentrated on their sense of hearing and were reminded that the city was more active now than ever before. The economy was booming, property values had increased to unrealistic proportions, and everyone within the crashed ship was busier than ever.
"I know Knives still has problems with crowds," Milly said, her voice as casual as ever.
Vash struck a hero's pose, his long hair waving in the steady breeze. "Yeah, Knives is too afraid to do it, so I guess it's up to me!"
Knives forcefully shoved the basket into Vash's arms. "If anything happens to these while I'm away..." He leaned in closer to Vash, so close that the gunman winced. He stuck his tongue out as soon as Knives turned away.
"Nothing'll happen to them! I'll even finish picking them!" Vash stepped toward Knives' grapes and began doing just that.
Knives followed Thompson into their home and stood beside the dining room table, where she was preparing a package and a stack of letters for her Milly's Monthly. On the edges of the heavily padded package were wrapped candies and other goodies for Thompson's siblings and in the center was a delicately painted toma egg she and Vash had decorated for Easter. It was one huge boiled egg with painted pictures of cartoonish characters, such as Vash running from a herd of toma, Knives sitting under his apple tree, and Stryfe typing away on a typewriter.
"I hope their letters arrived this time. The sand steamer they were on was robbed a bit ago, remember, Mr. Knives?"
Knives blinked, but realizing that Thompson was waiting for a reply, he nodded.
"So, it's been delayed. I wonder if my letters from last month reached them. Hmm, have you ever thought about writing an apology letter to Miss Elizabeth?"
Knives narrowed his eyes, then snorted at the thought. "That wouldn't be enough to make up for what happened to her."
Thompson sat at the table and began sorting her mail for the millionth time. "Well, do you know for sure? My brothers used to always write to each other when they couldn't say that they were sorry."
Knives' face was a blank mask. As he continued to reflect on the past, Thompson began tying the package together.
"Why did you tell Miss Elizabeth you made Mr. Vash destroy July during New Year's Eve?"
Knives frowned. "A lapse of sanity."
"Will you ever get along with her again?" she asked while putting the package in a bag.
He crossed his arms over his chest. "It doesn't matter. I'll be returning to my ship soon. Vash can deal with her and the organization."
"Well," Thompson said, shouldering the bag, "we're not gonna live forever, Mr. Knives. Did she do anything wrong? And don't say it's because she's human. We can't control that, but we can choose what to do with ourselves."
"Most humans make the wrong choice."
"Well, have you met every human?"
Knives lowered his eyes to the table, his face unreadable.
"Miss Elizabeth is trying her best to help the Plants, and so are you and Mr. Vash. Remember, she offered to help instead of harming you, and has she told anyone about what you two are?"
Knives grunted and his eyebrows furrowed. "No."
"Then maybe you two should try getting along eventually. My big big brother always says that nothing will ever get solved between people unless someone does something."
Knives' face contorted with disgust at his sudden thoughts. He hadn't been questioned and upbraided like that since he was a child. Since that woman… Rem.
He hated her, but once, he had cherished her. She was the one he had the urge to call for while being abused, and even though he stubbornly endured Steve's merciless onslaughts on his impressionable mind and vulnerable body, he always wished Rem would save him. It was only rational for a child to seek guidance and comfort from a parental figure, no matter who it was. He never did receive help—neither did Vash. He had to take matters into his own hands and protect them both, then his love for Rem died with her.
The door to the garden slid open, and Knives heard the familiar jaunty strut of a feline, too quiet to be heard by humans, alongside Vash's heavy steps.
"Nyaaa!" The cat began meowing, rubbing her face against Knives' calves.
"Here, your majesty," Vash said as he set the basket full of grapes on the table. "You gonna make some wine for the rest of us?"
Knives quirked an eyebrow. "Why should I waste wine on your ruined palates?"
Vash rolled his eyes and poked Knives' arm teasingly.
"Okay, I'm ready. Ready, Mr. Knives?" Thompson asked.
Knives bent down to scratch behind the cat's ear before standing and retrieving his black Long Colt and holster. He clicked the buckle in place and adjusted the belt before leaving the house fist.
He stepped on the trimmed grass on their front lawn since he hadn't had the chance to install a crosswalk, and as he continued walking toward the sidewalk, he observed how the humans treated the new world surrounding them. He had been confident that they would quickly reduce their new environment to dust, proving once again that they were a plague on the planets they inhabited. There were instances of that behavior, but surprisingly, the majority of the evidence Knives observed countered his previous assumptions.
When Knives terraformed, he grew an abundance of trees throughout the streets, nurtured crops on the outskirts of the city, and genetically modified plants that produced a variety of produce with limited need for pollination and water. The few native insect species offered some support, but nowhere near enough. Knives even took the soil into consideration when terraforming, relying on the humans to use the abundance of toma and human waste to fertilize the vast fields. Then, Vash informed the doctor that it would be in their best interest for Elizabeth and her organization to take credit for Knives' work.
Knives and Vash depended on Elizabeth to spread awareness of terraforming so that the Plants would be able to rest, at least somewhat. Her organization, Society for Education in Plant Analysis and Longevity (SEPAL) rose in popularity and taught humans how to maintain the land, their crops, and the plants.
Knives knew it wasn't enough.
He scanned the world around them once more, observing the humans mingling, trading, and traveling by cars, toma, or on foot. Everywhere without bedrock had grass and vines climbing various infrastructures. Although some sought to destroy the trees, the city doubled its efforts to protect everything by hiring federation soldiers and militias. Vash wasn't a wanted man any longer, but it still unsettled Knives when his brother was near humans. They could turn hostile at any moment, as humans tended to do spontaneously. If the entire city sought Vash's execution, even Knives would've been overwhelmed. Then again, the idiot evaded mobs of humans in Ineperil years ago.
Knives watched a group of toma riders prepare their daily deliveries across the city, with saddlebags and mailbags mounted to their animals. He turned and saw Thompson digging into her bag for her wallet.
"You don't need to send anyone anything, right?" she asked.
"No. Who would I write to anyway?"
She shrugged, and Knives watched her closely, waiting for her to verbally answer. "Well, you did leave us for a while. You left after Christmas years ago, then other times. Maybe you made a friend?"
Knives snorted, then he crossed his arms over his chest as he recalled the humans he had occasionally conversed with. "No."
"Okay, well, gimme a few minutes! I'll be right back!"
Knives found a comfortable spot on the wall and leaned against it, crossed his arms, and glared at the ground or the humans. Each time a human finally registered that he was observing them, Knives smirked internally at their reactions.
"Mr. Knives," Thompson said, waving a hand in front of his face, "are you alright?"
"Yes," he said with an arrogant smile. "Are you finished?"
"Yep! Look, the letters from a while ago finally came!" she waved the wide stack of sealed envelopes in front of him. "There's even one for you, Mr. Knives!"
Knives narrowed his eyes as she handed him a letter with some of the worst handwriting he had ever seen. The crude penmanship reminded him of how Vash used to write as a child.
"My youngest niece really liked some of the stories I told her about you and wrote you something."
"Why?" Knives asked as he turned the envelope over. "What did you write about?"
"I told her about your garden, and I think she packed some lima beans in the envelope. She loves gardening so much that Dad gave her a little plot of land just for her."
Knives firmly shook the envelope and indeed heard the beans rattling inside.
Knives then stalked through the crowds, visibly tense, his appearance frightened humans that steered clear of him. Thompson, on the other hand, walked closer to him, offering apologetic smiles to those who avoided the Plant. Knives was looking ahead when suddenly, he felt someone attempt to hook an arm around his tense bicep and yank him to the side.
"Mr. Knives, would you like something from the café? My treat! I've been inside all day dealing with that Easter toma egg and the letters, so how about we read in there?"
Knives had spotted the café before they reached the post office. It was far from the main roads, hidden between buildings, so most noises wouldn't disturb those within. Miraculously, the location wasn't swarming with humans. He speculated it had something to do with it being near the public library, where anyone who made a commotion would've been punished and most wouldn't bother to read. The café also didn't serve alcohol, which was why Stryfe and Vash had dates there so often.
"No," he finally answered and continued walking.
"Aww, okay, I'll meet you back home." She waved and then turned toward the café. "Hmm, Meryl said they started selling macarons," she mumbled to herself.
Knives furrowed his brows, buried his hands in his coat pockets, and curiously glanced over his shoulder at Thompson and the café. "Macarons."
"Yep! I heard they're really hard to make and expensive. I don't mind buying them if you want some, but you have to join me! Since you lost your job at Bernardelli, how else are you gonna pay for anything now?"
Knives quirked a brow and snorted. 'I could simply command humans to do what I want.'
Thompson nodded, drumming her fingers against the stack of envelopes in her hand. "You could, but Mr. Vash would be really disappointed, and you promised him."
Closing his eyes, he grimaced and then signed in acceptance. His arms hung stiffly at his sides as he trudged into the establishment, with Thompson close beside him.
It had been over a century since he had tasted the delectable treat. He hadn't eaten macarons since he'd attempted to make them as a child. Senses, such as taste, and emotions were linked, so perhaps he could experience a sense of nostalgia for the good times, as Vash had once described their past together before the Great Fall. Even Knives reminisced on a time long gone occasionally, and it was still possible to recreate those memories with his brother.
Thompson entered the café first, and while some of the humans inside turned to watch them enter, Knives critically analyzed his surroundings, noting the entrances and other features of the establishment. Most of the humans were women holding novels and newspapers, and frequently they'd glance at him when they thought he didn't notice.
"Over here, Mr. Knives," Thompson shouted, waving at Knives standing stiffly near the entrance.
Knives couldn't help but overhear the hushed whispers around him, and while he didn't make it a habit to acknowledge the existence of unfamiliar humans, this time he noticed their curious glances and friendly smiles.
"I got us the booth furthest from most people," Thompson said while setting her things down along with the envelopes.
Knives sat on the cushioned bench attached to the wall and relaxed into it the best he could. He now had a good view of the café and reconsidered the thought of sitting with his back facing away from the humans. He leaned back in the seat and crossed his legs underneath the table, which to his surprise, accommodated his size. A small menu was lying on the table and he concentrated on it to distract himself from the giggles and whispers from the other women.
"Okay, I'll order some tea too. Mr. Knives, what would you like?"
He flipped the menu over one last time before making eye contact with her. "The reason I agreed to come here: water, the macarons, and black coffee."
"Oh. Coffee. Well, Mr. Vash has been concerned about your lack of sleep. He told me you haven't slept for almost a week. I bet it has something to do with all of those papers and files you brought with you from the ship."
Knives rolled his eyes at the notion that his brother was gossiping about him. 'Yes. I'm attempting to develop a method to free our kind from their enslavement. I've been trying to do so for my entire life, though it hasn't always been my top priority.'
"Still, we think you should take care of yourself. Taking breaks like this wouldn't hurt, right?" She smiled before leaving to order their refreshments.
"No, I suppose not."
Knives was used to humans gawking at him. Countless times before, he applied his telepathy to mask his presence, but if he did so now, he'd risk Thompson informing Vash of his unnecessary telepathy usage. He could simply alter her memories whenever he used his powers, but Knives was certain Vash would find out eventually—somehow.
Curious, Knives finally reached for the letter Thompson's niece wrote and opened it with care to avoid tearing it. Some of the beans fell out, so he pressed onto them so they'd stick to his digits and put them back in the envelope. Once they were inside, he began unfolding the creases in the paper. The paper arched limply over his hands as he began reading through the short letter.
Although Knives avoided children, he couldn't help but stifle a laugh occasionally when it came to their behavior. He assumed the human who wrote to him was no older than four years old based on her penmanship and overall comprehension of language. When he and Vash were a few months old, they could speak fluently in English, and Knives studied multiple other languages before he was six months old. By the time he turned one, he knew several languages; he could've mastered ten if he wasn't occupied with sciences and the arts—cooking being one of them. He was even superior to human children by the age of four months. If only his brother understood that they were superior. It was self-evident.
Thompson set the macarons down first. "Look, they're so cute! What did she write about, Mr. Knives?"
Knives looked up to watch her set their drinks and desserts down. He narrowed his eyes at the basket of macarons tucked into artificial grass to resemble a basket of eggs. The macarons were shaped into eggs and featureless rabbit heads, obviously to celebrate the ancient celebration known as Easter.
Like hell he was going to eat those in front of humans.
"Nothing of importance," he answered, tossing the folded paper aside. When he noted the disappointment on her face, he sighed and amended his words. "She hopes my garden will survive, unlike hers, and offered instructions on how to grow lima beans."
Her face contorted in confusion as she grabbed the letter from the table. "What's wrong with her garden?"
Knives shrugged. "She didn't say."
While Thompson tore through one of the letters from months ago that was supposed to arrive earlier, Knives gazed with contempt at a white rabbit-shaped macaron. Thompson took a moment to gawk at Knives' slightly flushed face as he listened to some of the human women's suggestive comments about him eating them.
Humans ruined everything, even his appetite.
"Mr. Knives, are you okay?" Thompson asked before reading a letter.
"Yes," he spat immediately before folding his arms over his chest again.
"You don't have to be embarrassed because of what you look like. I noticed some people here were admiring just how handsome you are." She smiled innocently.
Knives' face nearly turned crimson as he recalled memories of when Rem had also commented on his appearance. "As if I need a human's recognition."
"No, but who knows! Mr. Vash and Meryl love each other very much and they worked out."
Knives tightened his arms against his chest, his eyes glaring at the basket. "Yes, they have each other now." His nose wrinkled.
"There's no need to be jealous," she said, and Knives' eye began twitching. "Mr. Vash will always love you. Maybe one day you'll understand what it's like to be in love." Her eyes twinkled before she began reading a letter.
He snorted, then he raised his head, frowning at the women around him, with the frigid stare he often used while commanding the Gung-Ho Guns or Legato.
"Oh no…" Thompson's grip on the letter tightened as her eyes sprang from one sentence to the next.
Knives blinked and returned to the aloof and withdrawn behavior that he had been perfecting for over a century.
"On no… The ranch is going through a terrible season and the village was raided by bandits!" Her eyes darted across the table, and Knives lifted his chin from his hand. "Mr. Knives, I… I gotta help!" Packing her belongings, she bolted out of the café, leaving Knives with the undisturbed beverages and the basket.
He widened his eyes slightly as he noticed that the majority of the humans turned to gawk at him. What was he supposed to do now?
"Nyaaaaa!"
Vash looked down at the cat rubbing her body against his leg. Chuckling, he squatted to stroke her back, and the louder she purred, the broader his smile became. He watched her maneuver around the legs of the dining room table before disappearing into another room.
Vash left the grapes in the kitchen and ascended the stairs to the second floor. He stood on the last step and overheard the familiar clicking sounds that sometimes woke him in the morning. He wearily smiled when a growl of frustration disturbed the previous peaceful rhythmic typing noises. Taking a breath, he knocked on the door to the room he shared with Meryl and waited.
"Come. In."
Nope. His insurance girl was still not happy.
Vash cautiously opened the door, only letting his face enter first. He then opened it fully and noiselessly approached Meryl from behind. Her posture obviously exhibited frustration, one elbow on the office desk, her head in one hand, and the other resting just above the typewriter.
"Who the hell does the chief think I am?!" Meryl demanded, and Vash assumed it was a rhetorical question and wisely remained silent. "Expecting me to write seven—seven reports by Monday about some stupid, stupid someone wanting to insure some blade of grass!"
Vash's eyes widened while watching her strangle the paper from the typewriter. He couldn't help but notice that Meryl looked tense, with shoulders unnaturally arched above her ears, and the all too familiar throbbing vein on her temple. With a mischievous smirk, Vash pulled his sleeves back, cracked his knuckles, and gently set his hands on her shoulders. When all he received was a frustrated sigh, his eyebrows wiggled as he began massaging her tense muscles
"Then there's you!" She whirled in her seat to face him.
Vash jumped away, throwing his hands up in surrender. "I was just investigating your shoulders, honest…"
"Not that! That!" Her hand moved so fast that Vash flinched, thinking she'd throttle him. "When are you going to tell your brother about this? Do I have to?!"
Vash pulled his head away as she held new strands of black hair, even after he dyed and cut the other locks not too long ago.
"No… I don't wanna keep secrets from him, but I'm scared to tell him."
Meryl's eyebrow twitched, but before speaking, she closed her eyes. "Why?"
"Meryl…"
She thrust herself from the table and stood. "Knives!" she shouted.
"Shhhh!" Vash grasped her shoulders and pushed her back down in the chair. "Can I tell you why?"
"Fine, why?!" She crossed her arms. "If what you told me is true, then this is really serious. Not just for you, but for the other Plants, too!"
"I know…" The silence lingered for a while before he spoke again. "I know my brother, Meryl. Just as much as he knows me, I know him more than anyone else ever can or will."
"Wow, I wouldn't have guessed, Vash! It's not like you're psychic brothers or anything!"
Vash pouted, his face scrunched in mock hurt. "We've only really known each other for like, what, three decades?" Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes darted across the room, avoiding Meryl's exasperated expression. "Okay, look. If this black hair stuff is because of me using my powers, then…" He furrowed his brows, eerily resembling his brother. "Knives' been tolerating people and if using our powers somehow affects our health, then he might do something… drastic."
Meryl rolled her eyes, huffing. "Like he hasn't done that before."
"I meant to himself."
That caught her attention.
Vash groaned before plopping on the bed. He looked down at his hands grasping his knees, gathering the strength to look at Meryl for just a moment. "He's been doing well—we've been. He's apologized for some things and I know he regrets some of his mistakes, which is a start, but not everything and I don't think he ever will. I think if he does admit that he was wrong—if he mourns the lives he's taken—he'll die or lose himself. That's why he sounds like a broken record when he talks down on humans. Call it self-denial. If you keep telling yourself something over and over again, you'll trick yourself into believing in it."
"He deserves it if you ask me, Vash."
He shook his head, dropping it in defeat. "Maybe he does… I'm just worried that he'll… I don't know. Maybe I don't know him as well as I thought, huh?" He forced himself to chuckle, rubbing his knees nervously. "He doesn't know about the black hair, because if he did, he wouldn't have ever made the weapons or used his energy recklessly. He's wanted me to suffer ever since July, but he never wanted me dead."
"That makes it all better, huh?"
Vash groaned. "Meryl…" He raised his eyes to meet hers, and he suddenly looked his age. "Not only will he destroy Wolfwood's cross, but he'll also panic because we can't rely on our powers anymore. He can't stand being powerless and his pride as a Plant relies on what he can do."
"I mean, that's a good thing, right? He really can't return to his old ways if he knows." She shrugged as if defending anything from Knives was going to be easy.
"I think dark hair will start appearing on him soon since he used a lot of energy recently to terraform."
"Vash…"
"I wanna terraform too, Meryl. It could be the beginning of something great, and if we use Elizabeth's organization to spread awareness on how to properly maintain everything, then who knows what this planet will become!"
"I understand that, but can you please care about yourself for once? You can care about others, but it isn't selfish to care for yourself."
Vash smiled. "You've always been looking out for me, even before I faced Knives… Okay, look, I recently asked Doc to analyze my hair, so we'll see what exactly it is. I'll tell Knives eventually, but I don't know how to..."
"Meryl! Mr. Vash!"
They both winced then glanced at each other before hurrying to the door. They didn't have to travel far because Milly greeted them before they reached the stairs.
"Meryl! Vash! I—The letters. And—And!"
Vash lightly shook her shoulders. "Slow down, what's wrong?" His eyes widened at her panicked expression. "Did Knives use telepathy?!"
"No! No, Mr. Knives didn't hurt anyone."
Vash lowered his eyes in shame for, once again, suspecting his brother. Old habits die hard.
"It's my family! I just received letters from Mom and Dad and they said the ranch and the village are suffering from a drought and the village was attacked by bandits! They haven't sent letters recently and I only just got the ones from months ago!"
"That's terrible, Milly," Meryl said, a pained look on her face.
"Then we gotta help them," Vash said, determined. "Where's your family ranch?"
Milly sniffled, cleaning her face with a sleeve. "It's near a the Amaya Village a few iles south of April City."
"Hm." Vash curved his fingers over his chin. "We can either wait for a sand steamer or we can borrow a car or something."
"I gotta go now, Mr. Vash! I don't know what happened to them and they always—always—send letters on time. Meryl!" Milly immediately embraced her closest friend and bent forward to cry into her shoulder.
"Milly, I'll buy us some toma right now!" Meryl patted Milly's back.
Vash offered his support by circling his outstretched arms around them both, leaning his head between theirs.
"Bu-but Meryl, you can't! What about your reports?"
Vash chuckled, and Meryl knuckled his arm. "The chief can deal with them! Milly, we'll leave right now!"
"Yep! I just gotta warn the Doc and Knives."
They jumped at the slam of a door downstairs and a peculiar growling sound that echoed throughout the house. Vash was the first to move and observed the commotion from top of the stairs. There, he saw his brother with a disgusted look on his face and with his jacket draped over something in his arms.
"Knives?!" Vash called out. "What's wrong?"
Knives glared up at him with a merciless fury that made Vash flinch away from the railing.
"Come down here, dear brother," Knives spat. "I have a gift for you."
Vash's entire body stiffened defensively at the whole situation. Cautiously, he began his descent to the first floor and slowly approached his twin. "What—Oof!" He jerked back when Knives shoved something into his arms from underneath the coat. Vash glanced down at the basket of cutely shaped macarons and made a confused noise. "Oh, these are from the café!"
Knives' fists clenched at his sides, and his teeth were grinding together.
"When she left, a mob of human women confronted me, asking questions regarding my association with her!"
Vash blinked, and as he processed what his brother just said, Meryl laughed above them.
"Do. Not. Mock. Me," Knives warned Meryl coldly.
"What are you going to do about it?" she challenged, her chuckles dying down. "Throw a tantrum or a macaron at me?"
"If I did, you'd easily dodge, given your vertically lacking, inferior human body."
"Excuse me!"
"Mr. Knives, I'm so sorry for leaving you, but we have to get ready to leave."
Knives quickly took control of his temper and turned to Vash. "When?"
"Right now, to Milly's ranch. They're going through a drought and bandits raided the village too. We're gonna see what we can do to help." Vash set the Easter basket down on the dining room table. "So, when you leave for the Pequod, just make sure to lock the house while we're gone." With haste, he ascended the stairs.
A few hours later, Vash and the girls prepared their departure and gathered their bags near the front door.
"Mmkay," said Vash as he leaned the cross against the pile of bags. "We all set?"
"Yep! Are the toma ready?" Milly asked Meryl, who dropped her luggage with the other bags.
"I got them for a good price, too," Meryl replied. "If we make it to the next city in a few days, we should be able to catch the bus to April."
Vash inspected his silver Long Colt, then holstered it and adjusted the belt at his waist. He unbuttoned his duster to mimic the red one he wore long ago and pulled the collar upward, hoping to conceal future dark strands of hair from his brother.
They heard the stairs creak and turned to see Knives descending to the first floor with a traveling bag over his shoulder. Even after all this time, Vash couldn't help but smile when Knives donned casual clothes; his outfit made him look human. And like how Knives usually decorated his own room, his outfits lacked style and were duller than the sand.
"You're coming too?" Vash asked, bewildered that his brother wasn't leaving for his ship instead.
Knives ambled along the path to the front door, passed Vash, and hoisted the heavy cross over his other shoulder. He stood tall and turned to face them, daring anyone to protest his decision.
"Mr. Knives," Milly began, "my family's gonna love meeting you and Mr. Vash! From my letters, they practically know you two already!"
"Oh great," Meryl mumbled. "Your Majesty better not complain about the long trip."
'Why aren't you going back to your ship?' Vash asked telepathically.
Knives paused for a moment while adjusting his belongings. 'The letter mentioned a mob of humans attacked the village.'
'So?'
Knives handed Vash his oddly shaped traveling bag, then his older brother left the house.
It dawned on Vash. He excused himself from the girls to catch up with his brother. 'You don't have to worry about us. I've dealt with bandits before.' He reached for Knives' shoulder and squeezed.
'If you can handle mobs, then why were you almost gunned down by a pathetic bounty hunter years ago?'
Vash pulled his hand away when Knives turned to face him. "As much as you like to say we're superior, we make mistakes," Vash responded verbally, as the girls chattered and locked the house behind them.
"Hmph," Knives grunted before continuing mentally, 'Being superior doesn't exempt me from making miscalculations occasionally, brother.' He waved his hand as if dismissing the idea.
Vash stared at his brother retreating back, then he blinked away his amazement.
"Well, I only bought two toma, and it's not a good idea to have so much weight on one," Meryl stated.
"Then buy another one," Knives responded bluntly as he approached one of the toma on their front lawn.
Meryl snarled, balling her hands into tight fists. "Knives, you're not the one buying them since you lost your job. Besides, who's going to look after the house while we're gone?"
"And you believe my security system is inefficient?"
"Meryl," Milly began, "I can just get another toma. It's not a problem."
"Well, I'm not riding with him. Do either of these two," Meryl gestured toward the twins, and Vash waved back, "even know how to ride one properly?"
"Of course Mr. Knives knows!" Milly pointed toward the toma. "Don't you remember, Meryl?"
Knives inspected the male toma, dropping his eyes to its talons then examining the head. He began strapping his luggage to the beast, tightening it on his lower back right above the tail. The others weren't sure why Knives gripped onto the horn of the saddle to command the toma to adjust his stance. Grabbing the reins and the softer furs on the toma's neck with one hand, he gripped onto the horn with the other, avoiding the shoulder of the animal. He slid his foot slightly into the stirrup as he hoisted himself onto the saddle, throwing his legs over to properly mount the toma. Even the posture and positioning of his legs were excellent, resembling a king riding his horse into a battle.
"I, uhh," Vash stammered, "forgot you could ride one so… well."
Knives rolled his eyes before commanding the toma to step toward Vash. "I've known how to ride them ever since we were children, Vash..."
"Actually, you rode them while I sat behind you. How did you learn to do it so well now? I don't remember you being this good when we were kids."
"Vash, you've been wandering the planet for generations. What? Have you been walking this whole time?"
Vash's mouth turned into a thin line. "Maybe."
"Why don't you start walking to the outskirts of the city and buy another toma?"
Vash pouted, crossing his arms. "Fine, fine. Milly should help me since she's more experienced than me with this kinda stuff."
"Of course I will, Mr. Vash!"
Vash grinned and bowed. "For the king on his high horse." Before Knives could humiliate him, Vash ditched his pack and ran away.
Eventually, Vash and Milly returned with a toma and secured their luggage on the extra animal that would tag along behind the girls. Knives rode in front of the insurance girls with Vash sitting behind him, and Knives tried to elbow his little brother in warning to keep his arms to himself, but Vash circled them around Knives' waist anyway. Knives even resorted to slapping Vash's hands away with the reins, but he stubbornly clung to Knives and he begrudgingly accepted it.
A week later, they made it to the bus and sold their toma. While everyone situated themselves in their seats, Knives occupied his time with an important task: gathering intel without using telepathy.
"Answer the question," Knives demanded, his voice monotone, each word hinting at something sinister. His cold glare fixed on the anxious bus driver's head, who stiffened as Knives continued to loom over him.
"I-I don't know n-nothin' u-unless a d-d-double dollar can jog my memory," the driver cast a sideways glance at Knives, "friend."
Knives set a firm hand on the driver's seat near his shoulder.
"'Just go up and talk to him, Knives', I said. 'What's the worst that could happen?' I said," Vash whined, a hand to his face. "'You've been learning how to talk with people by now, right? Show us how it's done, superior one!' I said!"
"For once, I'm with Knives on this one," Meryl said as she watched the interaction alongside everyone else around them. "We paid an arm and a leg for these tickets on short notice, so he's not going to see another dollar from me."
"I think it's time we played bad cop, Mr. Vash," Milly said while twiddling with her thumbs. "I don't know what's going on and maybe he's heard something about the village."
"I'll ask once more so your pathetic, inferior mind can further process my question," Knives articulated, his voice rising in power with each sentence. "Do you have information regarding the current state of Amaya Village near April City?"
"I-I ain't telling ya shit," the driver spat, but his voice cracked. "I can throw ya lot out!"
Knives' hand clenched onto the seat, fingernails carving cavities in the once pristine cushion.
"You are trying my patience."
"Oh geesh, I'm terribly sorry for his behavior, mister," Vash said out of nowhere, clapping Knives back with a heavy smack. "My brother - look, he's takin' mama's passin' real hard, and while she was a nice lady, she taught him everythin' he knows and manners wasn't one o' those things." He rolled his eyes at Knives, whose glare threatened to drive icicles through his soul. Vash then tried to push him away, but Knives stubbornly remained where he stood.
'Please,' Vash pleaded, sending a distressing wave of emotions, 'let me try something, okay? Follow my lead.'
Knives snarled at the driver, then veered toward the seat with Milly, throwing his duster cloak over his shoulder to cover himself again.
"Your brother is a fucking asshole!"
"He…" Vash rubbed the back of his head. "We spent a lot of money on these tickets, and we need to save what we have for supplies. Here, how about I help with unloading the luggage on the roof when we reach April City in exchange for some information?" He rested a hand on the man's shoulder and patted it. "You're pretty tense, so maybe you need a break from heavy lifting, huh?"
"That does sound good… Your brother is a real character. Should teach him some manners."
Vash chuckled. "He's a lot better now! If he hadn't changed, he would've killed you and drove us to April himself."
The bus driver's confidence, what little was left, faded.
"Don't worry! I wouldn't let him anyway," Vash added a few moments later.
"I'll tell ya what I've heard from other drivers and passengers! Just get him to stop starin' at me!" The driver glanced at his rearview mirror.
Vash looked over his shoulder and winked at his brother and the girls before turning back to the driver.
Knives sank further into his seat, crossing his legs together in the limited space he had. "Humans," he mumbled to himself.
Milly set her hand on Knives'. He searched into her appreciative eyes to find an answer as to why she was touching him. "Thank you, Mr. Knives."
He grunted in response and to Meryl's surprise, he didn't yank his hand away.
"All I heard was that a new group of bandits, the Radlers, bullied the smaller places around April," the driver revealed. "Apparently, the assholes found some lost technology. Weapons or something. They're powerful. The government in April recently asked for reinforcements from other cities. That's all I know!"
"What kind of weapons? What do they look like?" asked Vash.
"Rumor has it they're like red light things! They can leave a hole in a man without wasting a single bullet!"
Vash's brows furrowed at the information, and then he looked determined. "Thanks, sir. A deal is a deal."
'SEEDs ship weapons,' Knives voiced mentally. 'What models?'
'No clue. If they're anything like the ones on the SEEDs ships, should be the same ones we're used to.' Vash plopped into his seat and leaned against Meryl, using her as a pillow.
"Great job, Mr. Vash!" Milly cheered. "You and Mr. Knives make a great team!"
Vash groaned in response and cast them a sideways glance, but then his eyes shot up at the sight. Knives was letting Milly hold his hand, without recoiling with disgust.
That was, until Knives noticed he was being stared at.
Vash snickered and acted innocent as if he weren't just watching them. Leave it to Milly to be the only human Knives would ever allow to touch him.
Knives might never be in love, but he was loved nonetheless.
Knives occasionally talked with other passengers and gathered new information—including a possible model type of the weapons and where the hideout was rumored to be. For a whole day, Knives lapsed into long stretches of silence, occasionally grunting or nodding when he was mentioned in conversations. When Vash asked if there was something wrong, Knives answered that he was thinking and being productive. Vash couldn't argue with that and passed the time with the girls or in his memories.
The ride was really boring.
They arrived in April a day later than anticipated, and, as promised, Vash assisted people with unloading their luggage from the roof of the bus. He couldn't help but laugh when he tossed Knives the cross and he effortlessly caught it, amazing the other passengers with their strength and dashing looks.
Vash thought he was the more handsome of the two.
When they arrived in the village on new toma, Vash was saddened to see that people were still abandoning the area. They asked around about the bandits, and while people did give them detailed descriptions, they had no idea where the group was located.
"The model is a 98-19VS," Knives shouted over the groaning toma as they rushed to the ranch. "The vermin probably infiltrated an abandoned SEEDs ship with an accessible artillery room. Most SEEDs ships don't have this, but ship models 519-B8, 917-C12, and 421-G6 do, which are identical to most other vessels, but they stored offensive and defensive weaponry…"
"Hey, wait," Milly said while lifting her head from Meryl's shoulder. "Mr. Vash, remember when those attack machine things took the little girl from the bus, and we saved you and Mr. Wolfwood?"
"Machines?" Knives asked, glancing over his shoulder.
"Oh yeah," Meryl said, eyes widening in recognition. "Those things."
"Yep," said Vash. "I managed to shut it down so it couldn't make any more robots. Some other ships have something like that too. Rem showed us a weapons room in the mothership, remember, Knives?"
"Yes." He groaned, running a hand through his hair, and Vash had a feeling Knives was keeping something from them.
'What's wrong?' Vash asked, poking Knives' sides.
'I made sure to redirect those ships to crash into the planet, but some apparently survived.'
Vash momentarily pulled his arms away from his brother's waist. 'Oh.' His face contorted in pain before he tightened his arms around Knives again. 'Things are different now,' Vash whispered, resting his head on Knives' back, his hair whipping in the air behind him. 'I think… she'd be proud of you now. I am.'
Knives didn't respond, but Vash knew he didn't have to.
With dust clouds trailing behind them, the toma bolted toward the Thompson Ranch appearing over the horizon. When they neared it, Milly gasped at the ranch's current state. She had described her ranch in the past, how the fields were vast and green due to a plentiful water vein along with the rain. April was positioned where rain was more plentiful compared to other cities, but it still wasn't enough to make a difference unless conserved in a systematic way. The family also cultivated the land right over the aquifers where groundwater slowly moved underneath the land. Instead of seeing numerous toma roaming over luscious fenced-in land, they only spotted a few animals, and the dead foliage and plants were covered by layers of desert sands.
"Please… Please be okay," Milly whispered to herself.
Knives narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the ranch. "How many humans are in your family?" he asked Milly, glancing over his shoulder.
"Huh? Oh, well, Mom, Dad, big big sister, middle big sister, little—"
"How many all together?!" Knives shouted over the stomping toma.
"Uh, my parents, six older siblings, and six nieces and nephews. Why?"
"I'm only detecting the minds of your parents and a sibling."
Milly and Meryl gasped, their faces contorted in distress. Vash's snarled at the thought of Milly's wonderful family being slaughtered as if they were worthless—meaningless. People like them were his motivation to strive for a better tomorrow.
"They have to be okay," Milly pleaded. "They have to be."
Knives shifted his legs, clicking his tongue to command his toma to lengthen its strides. Meryl followed suit and ran faster alongside Knives.
Their toma gradually came to a halt in front of Milly's home. They were meters away from the barn and other buildings. While they dismounted, Vash accidentally hooked his pants on something and dropped to the ground with his ankle caught in the stirrup.
"Ow, ow!" he whined, rubbing his shoulder, which had absorbed most of the impact.
"Idiot," Knives muttered, offering his hand to Vash. "You've mastered the art of failing, haven't you, dear brother?"
"Oh, oh," Vash raised the back of his hand to his forehead, "my hero." He grabbed Knives' hand and hoisted himself to his feet. "For the record, you're the one who lost our gunfight all those years ago."
Knives yanked his hand back and Vash fell to his rear again. "Oops, suppose I'll learn from my mistakes, like a respectful human. Right, Vash?" Knives pulled on his slacks to straighten them out.
"You're not my hero, you're a villain!"
"Give it a rest, you two!" Meryl snapped after dismounting alongside Milly.
Milly ran to the door and frantically knocked. When no one answered, she began pounding on it. "Mom! Dad!" she shouted. "Answer!"
The door creaked open, revealing the interior of the house through a sliver of a gap. Then, the door opened to the face of a tall, blond woman with harsh features and peculiarly familiar, glistening light blue eyes.
"Milly!" The woman opened the door so forcefully it almost slammed into the wall inside. "Oh my God!" She swept Milly off her feet in a bear hug, nearly crushing her
"M-Mom!" Milly managed to speak while being squeezed.
"Oh, my little girl! It's been so long! Letters aren't enough, hon!" She opened her eyes and her arms around Milly loosened. "You have company."
Meryl approached first, her arms crossed in front of herself. "It's nice to finally meet you, Ms. Thompson."
"You must be Meryl Syryfe! There's not a single letter that doesn't have you in it." She extended her hand, and after Meryl offered hers, Ms. Thompson gingerly took it. "You've done so much for my little girl, thank you."
Meryl's blush darkened her cheeks, already reddened after traveling through the desert. She looked over her shoulder to see Vash standing right behind her and Knives beside the toma.
"What happened here? Where's the rest of your family?" Vash asked, his face determined.
Ms. Thompson's eyes lingered on Vash, rising and dropping to examine him from head to toe. She gawked at him, and Vash winced, uncomfortable under her astonished gaze.
"Vash the Stampede," she whispered.
Vash's face faltered and he rubbed the back of his head.
"Olivia, is that man—" A huge man stormed to the front door, almost out of nowhere. "Milly! Aww, sweetie, this isn't a good time for a visit! Come on, get inside and forget the luggage." He frantically looked around and spotted the blond twins and Meryl.
"Why? What's wrong, Dad?" Milly asked, her face a mix of worry and panic.
No one answered her and her dad frantically gestured for everyone to enter the house. Knives was the only one who brought in anything, and when everyone stood together, he leaned the cross against the wall closest to the front door. Milly and Meryl stood together beside Olivia and her husband. Vash gazed outside of the window, and Knives stood beside him to analyze their surroundings for any possible threats.
"Listen, Milly," her father said as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Mikey's been kidnapped."
Milly gasped, shaking her head in disbelief. The others turned to face them. "What? No! What happened?!"
"When the village was raided, we sent everyone else to the Tuckers' until we were sure we'd be safe, but Chloe was ambushed close to the ranch and they took Mikey for ransom. She managed to convince them that the money she could give them is worth more than their lives, but they took him. Now, we're waiting for one of them to trade money for Mikey."
"When?" Vash demanded, his anger rising to the surface, and that caught Knives' attention.
"In an hour or so."
Vash faced them. "I promise you," he began and set a gentle hand on Milly's shoulder, "we'll help in any way we can." He then looked toward his brother, who was scowling out the window, and Knives turned when he sensed Vash staring at him. "Won't we?"
Knives didn't answer, but when he returned to gazing out the window, Vash smiled.
They waited. When the hour passed, they prepared themselves for every possibility imaginable (or whatever Knives imagined) and held their weapons close. Milly positioned herself at the side of the ranch with her stun gun, Meryl behind one of the recently cleaned outhouses, and the twins remained outside near the front door. It took some convincing from Vash to persuade Milly's parents to give him the money to trade for Mikey's life.
Knives leaned back against the wall beside the front door. Vash, standing on the opposite side of the entrance, was clearly anxious. He drummed both sets of fingers on the briefcase, his feet scraped into the sand as his body unconsciously twitched.
"Calm down," Knives commanded, rolling his eyes. "They're approaching. If you're going to act like a nervous wreck, then stay inside."
"N-no I'm not leaving the girls and you out here alone."
"Then relax, Vash."
"You're the one who started talking!"
"Not that! Just—" Knives growled in frustration. "Stop making noises!"
"Okay, okay!" Vash's hands clenched onto the briefcase, his digits whitening due to the pressure.
A wide cloud of dust was spotted over the horizon and using their keen senses, the twins saw four bandits approaching them on two toma. Various laser weapons were secured to their persons and saddlebags were strapped to their beasts.
"Where's Mikey?" Vash sharply questioned, his voice lacking warmth and patience.
Knives raised a brow at his brother. "You're going to be disappointed forever if you still believe these humans would honor their promises." Knives uncrossed his arms, smirking at the face Vash made.
"Can you stop? This isn't the time."
"I'll stop when you realize that not every human is worth the effort." Knives returned to brooding against the wall.
"You really think I don't know that already? After all these years?" Vash growled, but his frustrations were caused by the bandits more than Knives.
"I'm sorry, didn't you want me to stop?"
"Yes, I did... Fine, maybe you're right, but I still believe they deserve a chance even if you don't."
The silence between them lasted for a while as the bandits neared the ranch. They cast brief sideways glances at each other before the other could notice. The tension grew between them until Vash brushed his hair from his face and turned to Knives.
"I know you're only looking out for me." Knives stared at the vast desert before them, and Vash continued. "I appreciate you honoring your promises, which is something most people wouldn't do… But, you've met and lived with genuine people, and aren't those few good people worth it? Maybe some people would give others the same chance if they're given a chance to prove themselves. I gave you that chance, didn't I?"
Knives huffed, but his stony expression softened as he smirked at his brother. "You're annoying," he said teasingly.
"Ah, that's one of my many great appeals." Vash smiled sheepishly before glaring at the bandits.
The bandits' toma now stood meters away. The leader dismounted and the others followed suit. They smirked, laughed, and ambled towards the twins, making snide comments to each other about them.
"Where's Mikey? Where's the little boy you kidnapped?!" Vash demanded, sounding eerily like Knives for a moment.
"Not here, can't you see?" one of them asked, his laughter further answering Vash's question. "See, our boss thinks what you're offering isn't enough. See, we w—"
Everyone stopped. Their shoulders slumped, their once cocky expressions turned blank, and the weapons clanked to the ground. Vash's grip on the suitcase slackened as he watched the men drop their belongings.
"Hmm." Knives sauntered toward the bandits. "They're keeping him in a camp within a rock formation approximately thirty miles from here." He reached down for one of their laser weapons and began inspecting it.
Vash blinked before shaking himself out of a trance. "Knives!" he shouted.
"It's an emergency, isn't it?" Knives asked while turning the weapon over.
Vash stammered, then he found his voice again. "It is… Just…"
Knives sighed. "This is what we can do, brother. Honestly, you should've learned how to utilize telepathy for the greater good of humanity if you value them so much." He tossed Vash the weapon, and he caught it while the other held the grip of the briefcase. "You were more concerned with gun safety than how to control your own powers. It—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, save it for later, okay? Right now," Vash lifted the gun to inspect it, "we gotta do something."
"Unless they already killed the child."
Vash looked at Knives in horror, then went to inspect the other weapons. Vash then stared ruefully at the vast desert and pleaded for the boy to be unharmed.
