Vash had been sitting in this position for over an hour. He sat with his legs crossed, resting his arms over his thighs. He inhaled through his nose, feeling his lungs expand the deeper he breathed and the longer he held each breath.
Knives had said he should focus on his breathing while filtering through distressing thoughts so he could detach intense emotions from them, and then Vash tried. Meditation was like wandering the desert alone, giving him time to himself to wonder how their lives would've turned out if he and Knives had done things differently.
Over 140 years ago, Rem had explained that people celebrated their births once a year on Earth, and Vash couldn't wait to celebrate his own and Knives'. Life was so precious to Rem, and Vash, unknown to him at the time, was growing to appreciate living and the simple joys in life, like small parties. He remembered bugging Knives about their birthday and everything Rem said they'd do together. Vash thought they had so many birthdays to celebrate in the future…
Then, he felt sad. Rem said that she was losing her precocious angels; he and Knives were turning into young men too soon. Vash was sorry that he couldn't stay young for her.
He was ashamed of not being like her.
He had been disgusted with himself—his body. The power. He didn't want it.
He didn't want to be different. He was a…
Monsters! You two are nothing but monsters!
Knives recovered from a kick, shielding Vash with his bruised body. You're the one attacking us! Knives shouted. You're a monster!
Steve sent Knives flying with another blow to the stomach, leaving him gasping for breath as he vomited near Vash's feet. Vash could only watch, frozen, as Steve continued to assault his brother.
If only he had helped Knives back then.
Vash! Vash! Help me! Help. Rem…
Vash jolted upright, holding his breath as waves of despair crashed into him, threatening to strand him as a crying mess on the floor. He tried exhaling and released a violent, shuddering gasp. He waited for the emotions to pass before he gracelessly stood and ran a hand through his shaggy hair, pulling the black locks at the back of his head.
Knives had promised Vash that he wouldn't kill anyone unless it was necessary, but Vash had always been worried that his brother would return to his old ways, so Elizabeth's concerns kept echoing in his mind, and he couldn't dismiss them no matter what Knives did to earn Vash's trust again. Countless times, he'd seen people do the wrong thing, believing it was for the greater good. It was disheartening. Always would be.
But this was Knives, who had stayed dedicated to one or two goals for his entire life, who could discipline himself to work diligently for hours on end, who had accomplished a lot even while trapped in a bulb. Now, Knives would focus on advocating for Plants. It would take decades for change to happen, but Mr. Perfectionist would do everything he could to ensure an effective outcome.
The question was: What wouldn't Knives do?
Little green birds chirped on Vash's windowsill, and he approached to get a better look at them as they fidgeted and cleaned themselves. The green birds didn't notice him until he opened the window. As they flew away, he watched the clouds float by, swirling with the warm, vibrant hues of the sunrise. Another day. One more closer to a world with nothing but peaceful days.
Vash, take care of Knives.
"I'm trying, Rem. He's trying. I wish you were here to see it. Maybe if people visit our planet, they'll appreciate it too." Vash's vision became hazy, tears threatening to drizzle down to his cheek. He wiped his eyes with a sleeve. "Crap. I really am a momma's boy."
Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted by footsteps stampeding outside the window, laughter accompanied by shouts and muffled voices.
"C'mon! I want a rematch!"
"Eh?" Vash stared at the tiny figures on the other side of the fence. "Rematch?!" he shouted.
"Yeah, you and me! I won't lose at wrestling this time!"
Vash recognized the kid that spoke and smiled. "Hah, you're on David!… Right after breakfast, though."
The children booed. When he closed the window, one of them threw a piece of grape taffy and it bounced off the glass.
A knock. "Mr. Vash, breakfast's ready."
Speaking of breakfast... He turned to the door. "I'll be right there!"
For a few moments, Vash stood beside the window and watched the sky. He imagined Rem amongst the colorful clouds and vapors of the morning, her black hair curling around her and a soft smile on her face.
"Happy birthday, Rem," Vash whispered before turning to leave his room.
Vash was about to turn a corner as he descended the stairs but stopped where both staircases connected. He smirked and listened to the clicking of keys and casual chatter.
"N-no, wait," Milly said, "isn't it two tablespoons of butter for the stew?"
"Huh," Meryl exclaimed as she pulled the paper from her typewriter. "Oh, yeah… Most people wouldn't be able to afford butter made by Plants, so toma butter then?"
"Yes, but toma butter doesn't go well with this stew, remember, ma'am?"
As the girls continued talking, Vash's smile broadened, and he took another step down to the first floor.
"Goooood morning insurance girls!" Vash stopped in his tracks. " Whoa when was the last time I called you two that ?!"
Meryl rolled her eyes with a smile and Milly, standing beside Short Girl, chuckled and continued stirring a bowl.
"Whaaaat? I can't help it! You two working together like this just reminds me of old times, is all."
"Already feeling nostalgic, Mr. Vash?" Milly asked.
"Milly, he always sees us working together." Meryl continued typing.
The gunman drooled at the mountain of pancakes they prepared for him with dripping, glistening syrup and fresh blueberries from Knives' garden. "It's nothing. Just… had a morning thought."
"Oh, what kind of thought?" Milly asked.
"How I'm very grateful for you two!"
"Oh really ," scoffed Meryl. "You could do the dishes for once. Even Knives sometimes did them."
Milly patted Meryl's shoulder. "Meryl might not be saying it right now, but we're very grateful for you too, Mr. Vash."
"Heh, shucks." Vash leaned over the table to get a look at Meryl's paper. "How's the cookbook so far?"
The shorter insurance representative's eyes twitched. "It's coming along."
"Meryl said in about a month she'll finish the first draft," Milly said, waving her mixer around. "I'm still waiting for my family to write back about sharing some of their recipes."
Vash rubbed his chin. "Hmm, wonder if Knives would mind giving you a few of his."
"Oh—I just remembered!" Milly set the bowl on the counter and fled the scene. When Vash tried sticking his finger inside for a taste, Meryl slapped his hand away. "I got confused even with Mr. Knives' notes," Milly remarked as she returned. "I'm still confused about this." She set the book down on an opened page for Vash to read.
He narrowed his eyes, trying to read Knives' small yet perfect penmanship. "Photosynthesis is kinda tricky. What he's basically saying is that Plants kinda work like the ones in his garden. They take sun or artificial light, water, carbon, and other nutrients to generate energy. Unless a Plant's basic program is reset to create other matter, they just make energy."
Meryl scowled at him. "Certain Plants can also blow things up thanks to abusive, lunatic assholes."
Well, that's one way to put it, Vash thought to himself.
Milly frowned and stared at her science book, looking discouraged.
"Yeah… Today's the 21st, huh?" Vash pretended he didn't know, but Meryl knew him well enough not to fall for his old tricks.
"Don't act like I haven't noticed how weird you and Knives act when this day comes around."
Vash stared down at the book and closed his eyes. "Today's the day Vash the Stampede was born. July 21st," he said bitterly. His body shook at the mention of his old name.
It had been over three decades since the city of July was destroyed, and everyone's life changed forever. This was the day Knives had tried to free his naïve brother from Rem, the memory of a mother that kept Vash determined throughout his life. Most people wouldn't have forgiven Knives for everything he had done. Vash made that choice, but he couldn't speak for everyone that died because of Knives.
"I find it hard to believe no one died during the blast, and only did after," Meryl said as she slapped the paper rest on her typewriter in place. "He took your arm, your innocence, Elizabeth's family, and then… He still messes up, doesn't he? What would happen if he goes too far again? Maybe if we're rescued by someone from outer space…"
Vash raised his head. "You're still upset about what he did to her." He was more disappointed in Knives than angry.
"Elizabeth's right. Are we supposed to wait until he does something else? What if he hurts me or Milly?"
Vash looked appalled. "I wouldn't let him do that! Besides, he cares about both of you."
Meryl scowled at her typewriter and crumbled the paper that stuck out from it. "I mean, he wasn't in a bulb anymore when Legato took us…"
"Meryl, Mr. Vash can't solve everything or control everyone, even if he wants to. Everyone makes their own choices," Milly voiced as she reached for the bowl again. "Mr. Knives is gonna make it up to us by helping Ms. Elizabeth and maybe even us with our cookbook!"
Meryl sighed, then glared at Vash. "Did Knives even say why he hit her?"
"No," Vash answered. "I dunno. Knives didn't want to talk about it. He was going through a lot and had to think about people visiting our Planet. That scares him, I think." Vash groaned and dropped his head to the table, ignoring his warm pancakes for now. "Can we talk about something else ?"
"Okay, Mr. Vash! Meryl has also been working on her novel!" Milly mentioned as she went into the kitchen to finish baking.
Vash took a bite of his breakfast and moaned in delight as the flavors tingled his tongue. He paused in shoveling another forkful of pancake into his mouth to ask, "How much have ya finished?"
"Only the first chapter," Meryl answered.
Vash took another bite of his food and chewed slowly, contemplating. He swallowed to avoid annoying her by talking with his mouth full. "When can I read it?"
"You just asked me that yesterday!"
"Y-yeah, but I wanna."
"You're not gonna for a while, broomhead." Meryl's cheeks turned slightly crimson.
Vash stuffed another forkful of food in his mouth and let it soak in his cheek, where he stored it so he could talk. "Aw, no need to be embarrassed, hon! I've read how you write your reports, and that kinda language is perfect for a novel from your perspective!"
Meryl smoked as Milly giggled from the kitchen. "Well, later tonight I'll let you read what I've done so far. I based this on your story, after all."
"No, it's our story!" he said while chewing his food.
"Ugh, chew your food!" Meryl scolded.
The tiny smile Vash wore between his puffed cheeks dropped. He swallowed. "This handsome gunman needed help along the way."
"Yeah, yeah, that's all Milly and I are good for." Meryl started typing again.
"Without us, Meryl," Milly began, returning to the table with a stack of pancakes, "Mr. Vash wouldn't have been able to face Mr. Knives or survive the angry mob. Then, for years after that, we helped him reform Mr. Knives."
Meryl scoffed. "Reform. That's one way to put it."
"Umm, are you gonna kill off Knives at the end of your story?" Vash asked, skeptically.
"Let the author do her work.
"Alright! Alright!"
They then heard a high-pitched meow and saw the black cat rubbing her face against the glass backdoor. Her mouth gaped open as she cried, revealing her sharp teeth and long tongue.
"Aww, it's the kitty!" Milly began moving to the door. .
"I got it!" Vash jumped from his chair. "Wouldn't wanna disturb the writers at work."
The insurance girls continued to talk while Vash opened the sliding glass door to let the cat inside. She brushed her entire body against his leg, crying for food.
"Hungry, hungry kitty," he murmured as he entered the kitchen and opened a can of salmon spread, tapping it on the edge of her food bowl.
"Vash, Vash!"
A piercing, staticky voice from his communicator earring stabbed his eardrums.
"What's up, Doc?"
The response fizzed and popped. "Knives is here."
Vash narrowed his eyes in concern. His brother wasn't supposed to be here until the sand steamer visited New Oregon in a week.
"He told me he's visiting the Plants," Doc continued, "but when I asked if you knew he was here, he said he didn't want to be disturbed. Honestly, my boy, I'm not comfortable with him being here alone."
Vash watched the cat chew. "What's he doing now?" he asked.
"You mean you didn't know he would be here?"
Vash heard movement and saw that the girls were watching him. He then remembered they couldn't hear Doc and pointed to his earring.
"I'll be right there," Vash said before disconnecting.
"Is something wrong, Mr. Vash?" Milly asked.
He flashed a deceptive smile. "No—least I don't think so. N-no. Look, I'll be back." He went to retrieve the Long Colt and holster.
'Knives?' Vash tried searching for his brother's mental signal, but Knives masked his location. 'Is he with you guys?' Vash asked his sisters. They weren't responding, either. What was going on?
Meryl watched Vash carefully when he returned and asked, "Knives is here, isn't he?"
Vash stopped to look over his shoulder at them with a faint smile. "Yeah. I'll be back soon."
As Vash tightened the holster around his waist, he stopped and stared down at the silver Long Colt—the same one Knives gave him over a century ago. The weapon that Vash used to save people. The one that endangered them...
Now everything that brought you and Rem together is gone.
Shoving the memories aside, Vash donned his brown coat and went back downstairs.
"I'll be back. Um… keep those warm for me," he said, pointing at his half-eaten pancakes.
"Will do, Mr. Vash."
Vash locked the door on his way out and began racing through his front lawn, squinting up at the crashed ship overhead.
What's wrong, Knives?
Once inside the ship, Vash punched in the passcodes to take an elevator to the lowest floor and strode to one of the Plant's rooms. He peered through the circular window on the door, eyes bouncing sporadically in search of his brother. Engineers and scientists surrounded the bulb, making sure that the Plant was healthy and stable. Some gathered data while others monitored the lost technologies.
Knives wouldn't be here.
"Doc, which Plant room is he in?" Vash yelled into his earring as he stormed out and into another section of the ship. "He's not letting me feel his presence."
"The third one, Vash—with the newer Plant."
Vash picked up the pace and tried connecting with his brother again. 'I know you're here, Knives.'
'You found me,' Knives eventually answered, sounding condescending.
'Why are you avoiding me?'
'I was going to surprise you, but I assume someone tattled on me. No doubt it was that doctor.'
Before Vash could reply, he spotted Knives through a glass window on the door to the Plant room. He stood on the platform just below the Plant, wearing his newer white outfit, hands folded over his chest. Vash thought it was odd that Knives was just standing there and gazing at the bulb without asking their sister to leave the core.
Knives had locked the door from the inside, so Vash tapped on the glass to get his attention. Knives' head jerked out of his contemplating position with a hand to his chin, eyes glued to the bulb. He looked over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes when he saw Vash waving at him.
'Where are you building your projects?' asked Knives. 'The sooner those are operational, the better.'
'Nope,' Vash responded . 'Not answering until you answer my question: Why are you here so early?' Knives turned and strode to the door, his spine straight and arms stiff at his sides.
Was Knives purposely avoiding him? For what? Suddenly, it clicked.
'Are you avoiding me because because today is… Ya know…'
Knives stopped typing and scowled at the keys. His hand hovered over them, fingers curling and clenching into a fist.
'The Doc and I are storing the solar panel prototypes in a warehouse nearby.' When Knives didn't react to the information, Vash smiled and said, 'We've been through this before! I forgive you for what you did to me.'
Before Vash could say anything else, Knives opened the door and strode to the exit and into the hallway. Vash hurried to catch up with him, and they walked in silence through the ship and its near-empty hallways.
"Wanna talk about it?" Vash asked once they arrived at the exit, his voice bouncing off the walls.
Knives buried his hands in his pockets. "What's there to talk about?"
"A lot. Nothing. I dunno. I just want you to talk to me, especially since you've been avoiding me."
"I was going to surprise you."
"Right…" Vash knew something was wrong with Knives but wouldn't pressure him into talking. "I'll show you the projects later. Let's just go home and get something to eat."
They eventually trudged to a street nearby and donned their sunglasses. Vash stopped when Knives approached something that looked really out of place. His brother patted one of the four toma fastened to a parked carriage—a damn carriage!—and fished for a treat in his pocket to offer it.
"Uh..." Vash's jaw dropped, and Knives smirked over his shoulder. "What? How? Why? A carriage?!"
He put a hand to his chin and leaned forward to inspect the carriage. It looked different from the pictures he saw as a kid. It was a weird hybrid between a primitive carriage and a sled with runners instead of wheels. The body was shaped like a SEEDs shuttle, with doors and draped windows.
"Toma sledding?!" Vash asked, bewildered as he folded his glasses and tucked them into his pocket. "Why not just get a car?"
"Vehicles are irritating."
"How do you steer while in there?!" Vash gestured toward the carriage, waving his arms in the air for emphasis.
Knives rolled his eyes and tapped his temple. 'Don't whine to me that it's wrong to manipulate a beast when humans have done far worse for centuries.' He then took off his black sunglasses and hooked them onto the collar of his black shirt.
'Oh…' Vash watched people gather around or stop to gawk at the carriage parked on the street. "I thought you didn't like the attention," he commented aloud.
Knives palmed the center of the carriage door and it scanned his hand. "I'm going to be traveling with humans. I should try to tolerate incompetent people again." He scowled. "This is necessary practice."
Vash knew Knives enjoyed recognition and showing off his creations, like the carriage, his outfit, and the technology in their home. Instead of teasing Knives for it, Vash wordlessly entered the carriage and sat opposite of his brother. He had enough room to stretch his legs. As he did so, he noticed Knives' luggage tucked under the seats. He had a lot of it.
Vash opened a curtain to his left. Light shone on his side of the carriage, and beyond the window, people occasionally stopped to watch them drive by. He turned to his brother, who was sitting with crossed legs and perfect posture. Vash couldn't contain a smile, and Knives quirked a brow.
"What?" asked Knives with a hint of a chuckle.
"Oh, nothin'." Vash said, chin in hand. "Just that you look so sophisticated is all. I dunno—for someone who doesn't like attention, it's funny." His eyes stopped on the tight black turtleneck shirt underneath the white low-cut denim jacket.
Knives rolled his eyes and began buttoning the jacket. "You're one to talk. You wore a red coat as an outlaw for decades."
"Yeah, but I didn't wear tight clothes that show off my muscles. Unless you count the body armor."
Knives sighed, exasperated.
"I'm kidding! I just think it's cute that you're so proud of what you do when it doesn't hurt anyone."
"Cute?" Knives asked, offended.
"Y-yeah!"
"Why cute?"
"Because you get to show off and all the ladies will come running."
Vash laughed when Knives grimaced at the notion of a mob of adoring women chasing him.
"I mean… think you ever would?" the gunman asked, cocking his head and waiting for Knives to answer.
Knives frowned, obviously annoyed that he didn't understand the question. "Would what?" he snapped.
"Date someone? You into men? I mean, some of them can be cute. That would explain Legato and some of the Gung-Ho Guns and—"
"No! " Knives rubbed his temple. "Copulating with a human…" He scowled at Vash. "Why are you still asking me these types of questions?"
"Well, I mean, relationships and love don't gotta end with sex or anything."
"I wouldn't have guessed based on the noises you and your pet make together in your room. Superior hearing." Vash could feel the heat rising to his cheeks. "Also your pet's vulgar novels, like the series about an outlaw she obsesses over, suggest otherwise. Humans always think about mating."
"Oh yeah, Meryl is writing a novel too!" Vash immediately changed the subject. Then, he looked puzzled but eventually grinned like an idiot for a while, saying nothing. His silent smile obviously disturbed the older brother. "So, you read them?" Vash finally asked. "Saving Modesty by Chloe Abram? Was that the book series? It's pretty popular."
Knives tried to remain neutral, but the slight twitch of his brows gave him away.
Vash knew Knives wouldn't lie to him, so he continued. "Ya know, her books don't really have plot summaries on the back."
Knives lowered his eyes. "No, they don't."
Vash debated with himself about teasing Knives but decided against it. "I mean, I enjoy things that are bad for me, like donuts, so it's okay to like something that's—"
"Change the topic," Knives demanded in a hushed tone and with a slightly flushed face.
Red really suited his brother.
Vash raised a brow and wiggled it, which earned him a snort from Knives. "Okay, why a carriage, Cinderella?"
"I answered that; vehicles are unreliable."
"Well—okay! Uh…"
"I would've ridden a toma if it wasn't for my luggage. I had to prepare since I'll be traveling with representatives of SEPAL for a long time."
Vash was still trying to understand why Knives also decided to represent SEPAL by traveling with the team advocating for Plants.
After Vash and the girls had scolded Knives for hurting Elizabeth, he had struggled to apologize and agreed to cooperate with her. That had surprised them. When Vash had asked Knives why he was planning to travel with the organization, he didn't answer. Elizabeth had agreed, but only if Knives stayed away from her; that wasn't a problem, since they could communicate at a distance. While everyone was preparing to leave the Pequod, Knives excused himself, saying he had a few things to do on his ship before returning to New Oregon. What those were, Vash could only guess.
"Okay, but why? Is it your way of saying sorry for hitting her? Why not stay and work on the projects the Doc and I have been tinkering with since forever? C'mon, you're better with this stuff than me!"
"Vash," Knives said, coolly. His face was emotionless, except for his eyes. Those sharp, frigid globes pinned Vash to the seat, and all he could do was brace himself for what was to come. "You've accomplished a lot in the past few years." Knives leaned closer to Vash, stabbing him with an intense gaze. "Don't underestimate yourself. Ever." His hard features softened before he leaned back to his side of the carriage.
Knives turned away to open his curtain, leaving Vash blinking rapidly, frozen in place.
Knives… complimented him? Vash's mouth gaped open.
"What? You're drooling," the older twin commented.
Vash shook himself out of the trance and wiped his mouth with a sleeve. "Geesh, when was the last time you complimented me?"
Knives' brows knitted together as he thought about it. "Hmph, you just needed to be reminded of your superiority."
"Yeah, yeah, but… thanks… That means a lot coming from you." Vash rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "You're pretty great yourself!" He couldn't help but laugh when a superior smirk crossed Knives' face. "You're willingly going to advocate for the Plants!"
"If it were up to me, I'd stay in my ship and decrypt files, but that's not what they want." Knives looked out the window and at the crashed ship looming over the city. "Humans might invade this planet. Whether or not that happens, hiding in my ship will not benefit them immediately." He closed the curtain and then his eyes. "Your plan has merit, but I will use my telepathy to ensure humans will alter how their institutions operate."
That wasn't good. Vash had left Knives multiple times, trusting him not to use telepathy to easily get his way—controlling people. Yet, Knives admitted he was willing to deliberately mess with people's minds and was even planning on it. That really didn't sit well with Vash. In fact, it disturbed him.
He scowled at Knives. "You promised…"
"I refuse to wait and see if humans will evolve in the next few centuries. It's more effective if I alter their minds to oblige to my terms."
"No! I'll go with the organization and you stay here!"
"No!" Knives shouted, his tone unwavering.
Vash groaned, vexed. "Why not?!"
"Because I said so." Knives tried to end the conversation by ignoring Vash, but the gunman wasn't having it.
"Nuh-uh! You will stay here."
Knives' snarl deepened. "What about your pet? Thompson?"
Vash shrugged. "They'll understand. I've wandered this planet for years and—"
"Damn it, Vash." Knives' jaw tensed and slightly jutted forward.
Vash was taken aback by Knives' cursing. He studied Knives and watched his face fluctuate from one emotion to another.
Vash lowered his voice and said reassuringly, "You can tell me anything, you know?"
Knives jerked out of his moment of deep contemplation and faced his brother once again. Vash's heart raced in anticipation when it looked like Knives was about to speak. Suddenly, he shook his head.
"Alright, you don't have to if—"
'What happened in July was a miscalculation.'
Vash raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. His jaw slackened. Was Knives implying what Vash had done was a mistake? He knew that! That was the one moment in his life he regretted the most!
Knives' closed his eyes tightly and for a moment, his face contorted in shame. 'On July 21st, over thirty years ago, I wanted to free my brother from her influence.'
Vash's forehead wrinkled, and his mouth hung open loosely.
'I ruined the life he wanted. Again.' Knives looked directly into Vash's eyes, and his heart fluttered at Knives' genuinely remorseful gaze. "I'm sorry."
Vash remembered how happy he had been to meet someone he thought was related to Rem. He had been willing to reveal what he was and reconnect to what Knives had stolen from him. But it had all been a lie. Conrad Vazquez was just another victim in one of his brother's deadly schemes.
Vash remembered Lina's and Sheryl's concerns when he withdrew from the world at this time every year. Vash could never celebrate Rem's birthday peacefully because Knives had made him destroy July on her special day.
Some of the people who knew Knives existed said he was incapable of understanding remorse. Vash understood their reasons, but his brother was more complex than people gave him credit for being. No one but Vash had spent fifteen years wandering the desert with Knives, fearing him, hating him, missing him, loving him, and witnessing moments of vulnerability, like crying in secret. Vash had wanted his brother to believe in Rem… Maybe if he hadn't shot and abandoned Knives, he would've eventually listened.
If only they hadn't been so stubborn.
The carriage stopped in front of their house, and Vash watched people gawk at them through his window. Before Knives could stand, Vash seized his arm and kept him in place.
"I'm sorry, too," Vash finally said, his voice quiet and Knives had to listen closely to hear it. "I—"
"Don't be."
"I'm gonna be!" Vash stood and then sat back down beside Knives. His brother's eyes bounced around and glanced at everything but Vash's face. "Remember, I shot you! Some pacifist I am, huh?"
"You had every right to defend yourself, Vash."
That caught the younger twin off guard. It was one thing to hear that from Meryl, but hearing it from Knives felt… liberating.
"We've done a lot to make up for our pasts, and even though we shouldn't forget, we can learn to appreciate today, right?" Vash smiled and wrapped an arm around Knives' neck, pulling him closer.
"When I start traveling with the organization," Knives began, contemplating what to say, "you will live here and continue the life that was taken from you. "
Vash's smile fell into a thin line, and his frown deepened. So many memories flashed through his mind. Knives had taken a lot from him, long before July. Yet Knives also gave him a lot. Vash finally understood why Knives wanted to travel; he would work with engineers, some of Knives' least favorite people, so that Vash could live a comfortable life. That was all Vash wanted from the very beginning: a world with no stealing or killing…
Eden.
"Besides," Knives began, shaking Vash out of his thoughts, "if you travel, you'll always be endangering yourself, since you refuse to use telepathy to your advantage."
"While I appreciate why you're helping Elizabeth, I'd rather be the one to travel if you're just gonna manipulate or control people." Knives tried pulling away, but Vash kept his arm around him. "Hey—wait," he said soothingly, trying to ease Knives.
"That's the compromise. I will not sit idly by and watch the humans twiddle their thumbs indecisively if our sisters' well-being is at stake."
When Knives set his mind on something, it was difficult to make him reconsider his ideas. Vash would drop the issue for now.
"We'll talk about this later." He finally let go of Knives and set his hands on his lap. "You hungry?"
Knives grimaced. "Yes…"
Knives moved a few of his lighter bags into the house, leaving Vash to lift the heavier luggage, like his trunks. What did Knives bring with him, his entire ship? Knowing Knives, that wasn't too far-fetched.
Knives reached the door and gently set his bags to the side. He leaned closer to the doorbell and felt the wall beneath it. A small door slid open to reveal a scanner underneath, and Knives set his palm on it to open the front door.
"Coulda just used the key," Vash tried saying as he struggled to balance two briefcases on top of a trunk.
Knives entered the house. "I don't understand why you rely on primitive features, such as a knob, to protect our home."
Vash shrugged. "It's just more cozy like that."
"Oh—hello, Mr. Knives!" Milly exclaimed. "I made some pancakes. Would you like some?"
Vash followed Knives in and set everything down with an oof. He smiled sadly at the insurance girls. Meryl was acting like Knives wasn't there, while Milly, being a ray of sunshine, went up to him with an enthusiastic grin.
Vash couldn't see his brother's face, but he could hear the smile through his voice. "Yes. I'm surprised there's any left." Knives cast a mock glare over his shoulder at Vash.
"H-hey! I'm not that selfish!" Vash pouted, arms crossed. "Well, I was gonna eat a lot, but I didn't know you'd be here so soon!"
It surprised Vash that his brother agreed to pancakes; he rarely ate cavity-causing foods. Vash guessed it was because Knives wasn't relying on his powers anymore, so he had to eat and sleep more often to maintain energy. Probably forgot to eat. Maybe.
"Here ya go!" Milly said as she set a warm stack of pancakes in front of Knives.
Milly drew a smiley face with whipped cream on the pancakes, used blueberries for eyes, and arranged toma bacon pieces for spiked hair. Vash chuckled.
Milly was too good for them.
"It's Mr. Vash! That way you can stab him and no one gets hurt."
Vash's smile fell.
Knives laughed and did just that, plunging a fork right in between Vash's blueberry eyes. He began slicing into the face and faintly widened his eyes when the fluffy pancake settled on his tongue. Milly placed the whipped cream and the syrup on the table, and Knives nodded in thanks before suffocating the poor pancake Vash in more syrup.
Vash sat on the opposite side of Knives and watched him eat. Obviously, staring made him uncomfortable as he slowed his chewing and was reluctant to bring the fork into his mouth again. When Milly poured them glasses of orange juice, Knives set his utensils down and stared back at Vash, his face neutral but relaxed.
Vash flashed a toothy, sheepish grin and waved.
"Mr. Knives," Milly began, and that got their attention, "I was wondering about this." She brought out the textbook and turned to a page. "I understand this," she said, dragging her finger across the text, "but not this."
Knives silently read the text for a few seconds. Then, he cleaned himself with a napkin and looked over the notes he made in the margins. Milly brought over a chair and sat close to him, listening and nodding, as he began explaining the concepts she was struggling with. Vash remembered how frustrated Knives would become whenever Vash couldn't understand something when they were kids, but Knives was more patient as an adult.
He really cared for Milly. Vash had to suppress the urge to coo at them .
Milly jotted notes down as Knives spoke confidently. When she spent a long time writing and left him waiting, Knives continued eating. Meryl ignored them at first, but eventually left the room, carrying her typewriter. Vash offered to help, but she insisted she could do it herself.
"Anything else?" Knives asked before taking another bite out of Vash's face.
Milly shook her head and closed the book, hugging it close to her chest. "Thank you, Mr. Knives." She began tapping her nails on the textbook and looked away nervously.
Vash cocked his head to the side and wondered what else Milly wanted. When she caught Vash staring, she smiled anxiously before leaving the book and returning to the kitchen.
What was that about?
Knives finished his breakfast and cleaned himself again before standing.
"Would you like some more, Mr. Knives?" Milly asked from the kitchen as she cleaned the dishes.
"Yes. Later."
"Heh, you're gonna get fat in no time," Vash teased.
"I exercise vigorously every day."
"Mr. Vash, that isn't nice," Milly scolded.
"Yeah, and he can't brood on an empty stomach! It's a good thing!"
"Dear brother, how kind of you to be so , so considerate of my health." Knives rolled his eyes and went to inspect the state of his garden through the glass backdoor. "Bring my luggage to my room," he ordered Vash, his back facing his brother.
Vash pouted, crossing his arms and huffing. " No," he said in the most bratty way possible.
Knives sighed, exasperated and slightly sluggish after eating more sugar than he was used to. "I suppose you don't want your gifts ." He shrugged and entered the kitchen.
"Eh?" Vash uncrossed his arms.
The last time his brother surprised him with a gift, he terraformed December City. What could top that?
Knives rolled his black sleeves up and turned the water on. Milly looked over her shoulder as she cleaned her mess on the counter.
"Mr. Knives, I can clean the dishes," she said, setting down a dish she was cleaning.
"You're willing to do the dishes? What happened to the 'We can't waste any more time' thing back on the ship?" asked Vash.
"It's the humans that are taking their time." Knives began drying his hands on a towel hanging from the oven handle. "I have to wait for the sand steamer and these incompetent fools." He finished drying himself and turned to his luggage.
When Vash followed Knives into the bedroom, the older twin finished inspecting the room and nodded, satisfied that his space hadn't changed since he last saw it. Knives sat down on the bed, crossed his legs, and smirked at his brother.
"I could use a bit of help," Vash said, fumbling with the luggage.
"There's another case I forgot about." Knives leaned forward with a cocky smirk. "I'm a guest here, after all. It would be rude of you to have me do all the heavy lifting."
Vash pouted and mouthed what Knives just said under his breath, knowing his brother could clearly hear him. When he returned with a few other traveling bags and cases, Vash found the black cat laying on Knives' lap as he stroked her back.
"Here ya go, your Majesty," Vash huffed and set everything down.
"Thank you, dearest brother. Those two are yours," Knives said as he gestured with his chin at the huge red and black briefcases.
Curious, Vash went over to the black briefcase and undid the latch. He hesitated and looked up at his brother, who was observing him in anticipation.
If Vash didn't know any better, he would've suspected that Knives had packed a severed head.
Vash finally opened the case. His mouth gaped open, and it became harder to see through his glistening eyes.
"I decrypted a peculiar file," Knives began, "and it might be possible to attach it again and extend your lifespan. It's more complicated to reattach limbs to us rather than a human, like Bluesummers, so I hadn't discovered how to reattach limbs until recently."
The gunman stared at his left arm, wrapped and cushioned with padded packaging. He hesitantly poked his hand and dragged a finger across the forearm to where it was severed. He yanked his hand away as if the arm burned him.
"When did you…?" Vash couldn't find the right words.
"I've had it for a while, Vash. It still has the interdimensional organ inside, so it was easy to track. That's also why it naturally preserves itself."
Knives had taken his arm, yet now he was giving it back. Did Vash even want it back? Before his mind could ponder it any longer, stressing him out, he shut the briefcase.
Only Knives could act normally in this situation while stroking the black cat.
"Don't forget about the other surprise."
Vash looked over his shoulder and smiled wearily. Knives looked proud of himself, and Vash didn't want to say that he was uncomfortable.
"T-thanks, Knives."
His brother shrugged. "If what I read is correct, and I had written and brought a short thesis paper about it, then we need to ask one of our sisters in the Pequod if I can reconfigure and reprogram her to assist us in reattaching your arm."
"I gotta hand it to ya, Knives—you really know how to surprise someone."
"That's not all."
Vash gulped, not liking the sound of that.
"Open the red one." Knives scratched the cat's chin, and she began to purr loudly.
"How about after breakfast?"
Knives shook his head. "Now."
Why was Knives so eager to show him this?
Reluctantly, Vash unhooked the latch of the red briefcase. When his eyes took in the details, they widened double their usual width. He unbuckled a few straps securing his gift to one side of the case and held up a long red coat.
"Knives… I got rid of this for a reason." Vash nearly dropped the coat, as if it stung his fingers.
"No, you abandoned the useless one." Knives squinted an eye as the cat jumped on his shoulder and rubbed her face against his cheek. "I've been working on this for quite some time. It's heat-resistant, cold-resistant, and bulletproof. I considered your semi-automatic and Long Colt while planning the piping aligning the abdomen. Two pipes are for regulating temperature and the others are for near-instantaneous reloading. You deserve nothing but the best attire."
Knives had made him a red coat… To Rem, red meant determination and love in the language of the flowers, but to Knives, it had meant foolishness and power.
Vash was most obsessed with how the coat felt. The material was like nothing he had ever worn before; it was smooth, yet soft yet durable as if he were pinching onto sturdy, flexible layers of rubber. The top-half row of buttons was replaced with straps, and one buckle connected his collar at the front. Inspecting it more closely, he noticed the coat consisted of two pieces connected by the straps and buckles. It still had the classic button design underneath, which was the style Vash had worn for decades. Knives added metal snaps and buttons to appeal to the eye, adding his own modifications.
"I kept the left sleeve attached to it," Knives said while moving the cat onto the bed. "I didn't know how to reattach it but I was certain you'd want your organic arm if I ever did. It could, theoretically, extend your lifespan."
Vash jerked upright when Knives set his hand on his shoulder. They both gazed at the coat, Knives with a proud smile and Vash with narrowed eyes.
Vash caressed the buttons with a thumb. "I didn't expect this… I thought you hated my old coat."
"I did."
"Okay, but…"
"Vash, you can wear it with pride or abandon it in the desert again." Knives pulled Vash's shoulder to face him, and he smiled warmly when he met Knives' genuine, gentle smile. "The coat is yours. It can mean whatever you want it to be." He then squeezed Vash's shoulder and stepped aside to the door, his cat following behind.
Vash couldn't help notice the emphasis on you. Knives was right. Vash didn't have to follow what red meant to Rem or others. He could decide. Was he willing to wear it and if so, what would it mean to him?
Thank you for reading so far! This was supposed to be uploaded here on the 21st, but I forgot to... I did update the story on ao3 and upload most of my stuff there.
I also made a Twitter account /MillionsM2
