DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.
Meryl Stryfe's apartment was a small, transitory affair. There were no divisions, except for the too-small bathroom and the little bedroom. Kitchen, dining area, and living area all were part of one big room. Ok, one small room.
It was designed for discomfort, to make occupants eager to get out of there and back in the field. The Bernardelli Insurance Society did not feel its employees should be rewarded with comfort when they were not out doing their jobs. Never mind the fact they were the ones taking their time finding a new assignment for her.
She had just finished cleaning and oiling her derringers. When they were each secure in their little holsters in her cape and the maintenance kit put away, she looked around the tiny space. It still smelled lemony from when she had cleaned it this morning. She took out the cleaning gear again.
How many times could Meryl clean the same things?
She shrugged as she set in. As many times as it took to not think about what she didn't want to think about.
Meryl was in love with Vash. She'd stopped denying that to herself at some point. He didn't feel the same; the more she thought about her time with him and how he had left, the clearer that was to her. To press the issue would be a recipe for disaster.
So she left, before her heart was broken all the way. Let someone else pick up chasing after Vash the Stampede, she couldn't do it anymore. It hurt too much watching him walk away. Always walking away from her.
Still, she wanted to be with him so bad. When she slept, she dreamed of that annoying, idiotic, tragically heroic man who had saved an entire town with just six bullets. Backed down a bank crew with nothing but conviction and a finger in his pocket. The man who had walked away.
She dreamed of him coming back, looking only for her. Getting down on one knee to ask the ultimate question. She dreamed of saying yes.
It would never happen, Meryl knew. But she couldn't stop dreaming of it happening.
Two and a half weeks had passed since she arrived in December. Seventeen days of waiting. Four hundred and eight hours of trying not to think about him, when every heartbeat was made of him.
This sucked. Reassign me, already!
After the apartment had been cleaned yet again, Meryl changed into t-shirt and shorts and pulled on running shoes. It was time to run. She had been running twice a day in addition to her daily workout. You got plenty of exercise while on field assignment, but it was necessary to work out when you weren't in the field. Objects in a state of rest and all.
Meryl ran like she did everything else – to the max. She never had a set route, just went wherever her feet took her for an hour and a half at a time. There were no set routes in the field, and running just all over the place meant she had to be alert for obstacles in her path. She concentrated on moving as fast as she could, dodging and jumping when she needed to. Heart beating, lungs pumping, Meryl ran like she was trying to break the sound barrier. She ran until her lungs were made of fire and her legs had acid flowing through them.
Maybe if she ran hard enough and long enough, she could outrun the way she felt.
She was flushed and soaked with sweat by the time she got back to the apartment. It was always her hope that endorphins would help make her feel better, but no such luck. The most she could do now was try to relax with a long, hot shower.
Forty-five minutes later, she emerged and dried off, smelling like lavender. Put on some fresh clothes. She at least looked relaxed.
A knock at the door took her attention away from trying to decide whether to cook or go out. Her heart leaped – a messenger with orders to report for reassignment at last! Now she could hopefully put him behind her for good.
She went and opened the door. Time froze as she locked eyes with her visitor. Emotions and urges warred inside her.
Meryl wanted to throw herself at him. Wanted to slap him. Wanted to kiss him. Wanted to strangle him.
She was this close, this close, to being able to walk away from something that would never be possible. He had no right – no damn right! – to show up like this, the living personification of everything she dreamed of. His showing up here was going to do nothing but torture her.
Her heart beat just a little faster as he held eye contact with her. She looked into those sea-green eyes that she wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of her life…
"I have something to say," Vash told her.
Meryl closed the door, shutting him out.