I do not own Trigun / Vash or Rem: they belong to Mr. Yasuhiro Nightow.

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Lonely Day

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Year 0167 month 5 day 11

It's been four years since that day when Vash left so abruptly.

I miss him terribly.

Rem still sleeps contentedly, knowing nothing of how long he's been away.

He had been coming every third or fourth year, until Rem was restored and awakened. Then he came every year, and I enjoyed seeing him oftener.

Now four years have passed, and his letters don't sound as if he plans to return anytime in the foreseeable future.

I don't know what happened, or why he left so suddenly. It preys upon my mind.

It appears as if he didn't talk to anyone except the medical staff, before he left that day. None of them will tell me anything.

I tried checking the computer. The security guarding his electronic records is better than for any other patient I've ever needed to investigate. Unfortunately, it appears as if they did not update his electronic records.

The hard-copy files on Vash are locked away where I cannot reach them. I made a few discreet inquiries, and discovered that they are stored very securely in an undisclosed area of the ship.

I know I shouldn't snoop, but something upset him terribly.

Is he ill? Is he dying?

I can't help worrying.

He's out there, somewhere, all alone.

What if one of those bounty hunters recognizes him? What if a lawman decides to collect the bounty by trying to kill him? What if he grows truly ill, and is too far away for any Seeds people to come to him, and someone else recognizes him…?

What if he has another nightmare? Or worse, what if he has another waking nightmare that leaves him helpless?

If I'd realized that he was thinking about leaving for longer than a year, I'd have tried to persuade him to take me along. He shouldn't be alone, especially not when he's this distraught.

He might forget to take care of himself.

Did he take enough water? Does he have enough money?

Oh Vash…

… no, I mustn't cry. That won't help him, or me.

I pray for him every morning and every night. But that doesn't help... or, at least, it isn't helping enough. I still worry about him almost all the time.

His letters are less cheerful than formerly. He's still trying to sound cheerful, as always, but I can sense a difference. It's slight, but it's there.

If there was even an address where I could write back to him, maybe this wouldn't be so difficult.

I wanted to tell him about Luida's stroke earlier this year. I think I have repaired her body completely, but she's growing old for an ordinary human. She was 81 at her latest birthday. I hope that this will not be her last year with us.

I want him to know about her illness, just in case... so that he can visit her at least one more time. It would mean a lot to her, and possibly nearly as much to him. He has often said she's a good friend. He extended our trip to Seeds by three months, hoping to see another aging friend before she died. Surely he would do at least as much for Luida?

Since I arrived here at Seeds village, she has been very good to me. Luida has taken me under her wing, figuratively speaking. She has invited me to her home regularly. She and her daughters have become my best friends – except for Vash.

"A Councilwoman shouldn't play favorites," Luida often says. She is somewhat formal and distant in public, to maintain what she considers to be "appropriate" appearances. She's like that toward almost everyone, in public. It's her method of trying to be "fair" to all members of Seeds village.

However, her eyes always shine more when Vash is in town. She loves him, too. She only admitted it to me once, and, ever since then, she's always changed the subject. But I remember. And, now that I know what to look for, I can see it in her eyes. Her fondness for him still shows.

At her home, when it's only Luida and her daughters and I (and perhaps Vash), she's almost as warm and affectionate as Naomi was. Luida was the first one to really help me feel at home here. She was also one of my tutors for many years.

But now, Luida is growing old. In fact, she's become very old.

No matter when I must lose her, it will feel far too soon. It will be almost like losing another mother. I must try to be brave and strong, though, because her daughters will need me to be their friend and comfort them.

I must try to prepare myself…

It would be easier to face losing Luida if I could hope that Vash might return soon.

… and here I am, crying over the lunchtime dishes, again. I'm pathetic.

I must finish the dishes, and prepare for my usual afternoon shift at the infirmary. I will go in a little earlier than usual, today.

I must put on a cheerful expression, because Luida will be there. She wasn't feeling well last night, so Lumia checked her into the infirmary for observation. I want to check on Luida first, before I begin my shift.

I'll wear the aqua dress that she bought for me when I first arrived here. I've rounded out some since then, but she wisely bought it in a style and size that was a little larger than I needed at that time. It still fits, and it's always been her favorite.

…

I arrived at Luida's room in the infirmary, but the bed was empty.

So I went to Lumia's office. Surely Lumia, who is both Luida's daughter and our chief medical supervisor, will know where Luida is. Hopefully, she was simply feeling enough better that she could return home.

"Lumia?" I said when I arrived at her office. "I went to visit your mom, but she's not in her room. Did she go home?"

"No," Lumia said softly, shaking her head. She turned toward me and I saw that her face was tear-streaked. "Mama is gone."

"Gone…?" I began. I shook my head, confused.

Then I realized what she probably meant. Not "gone home to recover," as I'd hoped. Gone, lost to us... dead.

I felt as if someone had punched me in the stomach, hard.

I went to my friend and hugged her.

"Why didn't you call me?" I asked, with tears streaming down my face. "I could have tried to repair her body again…"

Lumia hugged me back, and shook her head where it rested on my shoulder. "She forbade us to contact you," Lumia said sadly. "She said it is better this way."

"There's nothing 'better' about losing her," I said, and lost myself in sobs for a few minutes as I continued hugging Lumia.

I pulled myself together with an effort. "Is there anything I can do for you and Larissa?"

"I don't think so," Lumia said sadly. "It's not like we can just go wake her now, which is the one thing that I really want to do. We need to carry on. That is what she wanted."

"May I at least come over this evening, and cook dinner for the two of you?" I offered.

"Yes, thank you," Lumia said. "I'm not sure that either of us could concentrate well enough to cook right now. Somehow, everything you touch turns out well. Your cooking would be a blessing, Shyla, if you're sure that you really want to."

"I'm sure," I said.

"The worst part is," Lumia said, "I have to be a Councilwoman now. I'll have to try to act businesslike, even toward you, in public. I'm sorry. I don't want to, but that's what Mama said I should do."

"I understand," I said. "I won't hug you in public again." I made myself let go, but then I reached out and took her hand.

"If there's anything else I can do, anything at all…" I said.

"Please continue to be my friend, and my sister's," she said. "We will need each other all the more, without Mama or Vash."

"Do you know why he left?" I asked. "Was he ill, or angry, or…?"

"I can't," she said. "Please Shyla, I beg you... don't ask me."

I nodded. "How about I come to see you and Larissa this evening, then, to make dinner?"

"If you still want to," she said softly.

"We're still friends," I said. "I will always be your friend."

She came and hugged me, and said, "Thank you. You have no idea how much I treasure your friendship, Shyla, especially at times like this."

I hugged her back, but couldn't think of anything else to say.

After a few heartbeats passed, she released me and I left her office. On the way out, I saw what I had missed noticing on the way in: she was packing her personal items. She must need to move into her mother's office, to take on the duties of a Councilwoman.

I had to bury my grief deep, to get through my infirmary shift. I'm still not sure how I managed it.

After work was done for the day, I found a quiet corner and cried for about two hours.

Then I went to the ladies' bathroom, washed my face, and started walking to the house now shared only by Lumia and Larissa.

It was time to make dinner for them.