Confluence
Four
"Well, you've seen what I can do with electricity," said Ultima. "Beyond that, I have some sort of regenerative power. Do either of you?"
Ultima and Knives sat talking in his room. Ever since she had come to live with Vash and company, Knives had begun to monopolize her time. But she didn't seem to mind. Both of them were eager to learn more about their own nature.
"What do you mean, regenerative power?" asked Knives. Ultima elaborated in a small voice.
"When I was little," she began, "a group of bandits shot up my hometown. My father—"
Knives gave her a look of consternation.
"I mean, the man who raised me," she said, "went with a group to confront them. He told me to stay at home but I followed them anyway. Long story short I ended up with two bullets in my stomach. But to everyone's surprise, in a couple of days I was fine. Like it never happened. My body even pushed the bullets out before the doctor could go digging for them."
Knives, who had been listening patiently, shifted in his seat.
"No, as far as I know, Vash and I don't have that kind of capability," he said. "The only way we can regenerate, I think, is to rest inside a plant bulb."
"You can do that?" she asked.
Knives explained to her how he had recovered from the loss of his legs after July.
They both sat in stony silence for a bit at the mention of one of the bloodiest episodes of contact that Vash and Knives had had over the years. Vash calling up the stairs about dinnertime broke the silence.
"I'll go get it," said Ultima, since the still somewhat injured Knives was taking all meals in his room.
When she returned, Knives took a moment to gaze at her unawares while she sat down his plate and silverware. He regarded her closely. He had never seen another plant other than Vash and every detail was precious to him. She was tall. Knives mused that all his kind must be. He was about a head taller than her, he figured. She wore what looked to be black leather breeches with a long-sleeved shirt made of the same. Leather gloves capped her sleeves. Almost all of her skin was covered, he noticed. Good for keeping the sand out. And strapped to her back was her ever-present sword, a black scabbard for a black blade. Her face seemed perpetually stoic but in her pale grey eyes shown a keen intellect. But what struck him the most was that her long hair was almost entirely inky black. All except for a blonde forelock which, drawing a hand through her hair, she moved to one side.
"Your hair," he said, almost wistfully. She eyed him suspiciously.
"What of it?" she asked.
"Don't you know?" Knives replied slowly. "The blackness is…decay. When all of our hair turns black, we die." She was surprised and looked a little nonplussed.
"That's news to me," she said. "But my hair has always been this way." He regarded her curiously and she continued.
"I was born the product of a dying plant. I guess I was born already close to death." Knives looked passively back at her.
"Death follows us around, you know," she said matter of factly. Knives squinted a little.
"What an odd thing to say," he offered.
"Do you deny it?" she asked. Knives seemed to ponder for a while before responding.
"No," he said, "but I would say that death follows us around by necessity."
"Death follows your brother by necessity? "
"That's…complicated," Knives said.
"That it is. And I'll tell you now, I want no part in this feud of yours," she plied smoothly. "I have only lived for 30 years and I am young yet but I won't waste my time on this planet mediating the two of you, despite Vash's clear wishes. If you want to waste your time bickering you do so alone."
Knives was taken aback at her bluntness. He bristled.
"It only seems like a waste to you," he began in a hushed tone, "because you didn't see her there. Tessla," he breathed the name so softly as if speaking loudly would break it. "Her body dissected…organs suspended in preservative…" He broke off.
She looked at him knowingly. Minutes passed in silence as both of them were left to their thoughts.
"I have never spoken about it before…" said Knives. "But you have to know what we saw. You have to understand."
"I understand," she said thoughtfully, tenderly. "But I can't condone what you have decided to do."
"You say you want nothing to do with us but you've already taken his side," snapped Knives.
"All this talk of sides," she replied icily. "It makes me want to go far, far away."
This statement had a sobering effect on Knives. He didn't want her to be far away ever. He had hoped that they could be together, separated from the humans. At least she wouldn't interfere when he took it upon himself to wipe them all from the face of the planet. His kind shouldn't live far flung from each other. He had been trying to beat that lesson, among others, into Vash for the past hundred odd years.
He recalled the night that he and Ultima had met.
"Why did you demand that I leave the night we met?" he asked.
"You attacked me," she said incredulously. Before Knives could argue she stood up.
"I'm going now," she said. She silenced Knives's accusatory look. "But I will be back. I'm just going to town with Meryl." She started to leave but turned around and addressed Knives again.
"You really should listen to your brother though. Just listen. He's much clearer headed than you think he is." Knives scoffed.
"You don't even know him yet. You don't know the depth of his delusion. He even denies that he is a superior being. He's more infatuated with humanity than his own beleaguered kind. How can you even entertain the possibility that he could be right?"
"Yes, Vash is right. But," she sighed, "What you have said is also right."
Knives sat in silence when she finally left.
Meryl picked up a box of bullets and opened it, inspecting the contents.
"So have you told him yet?" asked Ultima suddenly.
"Told who what?" replied Meryl offhandedly.
"Have you told Vash how you feel about him?"
Meryl looked up at Ultima in surprise before setting the box of bullets in her shopping tote.
"Is it that obvious?" she asked with a defeated expression. Ultima smiled.
"No. At least not to him," she said. They both were quiet as they rifled through the general store's wares, Meryl blushing a little.
"I think you should go away with him," said Ultima seriously.
"What? Don't be silly," said Meryl.
"Meryl," replied Ultima. "I was just thinking about you and Milly…and Knives. The more I speak with him…I just don't think it's safe for you to be there." She met Meryl's eyes with a look of concern.
"That might be true," said Meryl, "but Milly and I have a job to do. And I don't think Vash would let us be there if it weren't safe." She spoke with polite but firm defiance.
"Alright," said Ultima. "I don't want to have to do this but I'll just have to take Knives away."
"What?" Meryl nearly shouted. "Are you serious? Vash would never let you! "
"That's why he doesn't need to know," replied Ultima. "And I need your help. Just get Vash out of the house sometime so I can move Knives."
"How do you even know Knives will go?"
"He'll go." Meryl looked skeptically at Ultima at first. This didn't feel right. It felt like betraying Vash. Ultima picked up on her doubts.
"I'm going to do this with or without your help. Somehow. If you don't go, he has to go. But," she added sincerely, "I would appreciate your help, Meryl."
Meryl rubbed her temple, turning everything over in her thoughts. Something told her this was a bad idea, but she couldn't deny that Ultima had a point. Every time Vash and Knives were together in the past, something awful had happened. Ultima's determination made up her mind.
"Well," huffed Meryl, "how am I supposed to get the Humanoid Buffoon out of the house?"
"I don't know. Make something up. …Ask him on a date," laughed Ultima.