A tiny ficlet that started with a few paragraphs. I didn't want to get rid of them, so I made them into this instead. Enjoy!

Contains spoilers for the Trigun '98 anime. This story contains depictions of blood, injury, and death.

Please do not repost my works without my permission. I don't profit from any of the stories that I write.


"Goodbye for now," Wolfwood called to the group of orphans that stood in front of the little parish in the desert. "I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

He gave them one last glance before turning away, face covered by the giant cross that was slung over his back. He could hear some of the children crying, but had to stop himself from comforting them; if he went back now, he'd never be able to leave.

Wolfwood hadn't told them when he would be returning. Truthfully, he wasn't sure how far he would have to travel from the little town on the outskirts of December. All he knew was that he needed to make money to support the orphanage, and he was willing to take as much time as necessary to make sure they had enough to be provided for.

His motorcycle- Angelina, he called her- sat waiting for him, and Wolfwood mounted before revving up the bike's engine. The suns beat down hard on his back, but he ignored the heat; The preacher had learned to rough the elements at an early age. Besides, a little bit of sun certainly wasn't the worst thing he'd experienced in his life.

He backed up before zooming off into the desert, making sure not to give the parish a second glance. I promised to look after them, he thought to himself, wind blowing against his back. They'll never have to suffer like I did.


Wolfwood kneeled in front of the altar. His body laid limply on the punisher, but it wouldn't be long before he couldn't support himself anymore. Blood gushed onto the floor through the hole that had been put in his chest, and the pain throbbed as if it had its own heartbeat. He reached up to feel the tender spot and winced. He knew that his time was almost up.

He couldn't help but think of the orphans he'd be leaving behind. He'd never get to explain to them why he didn't return home- not in this lifetime. If he had never left the little parish, he likely would have gone on having a peaceful existence. However, being able to provide for them was something he couldn't regret. The orphanage was able to survive thanks to the money he'd sent back, and the children could have a better childhood than he did. If that was the only thing he did in his life, he'd be happy, even if his death had come too soon.

Goodbye for now, my little friends, he thought as his eyes started to flutter shut. I'll see you all again in paradise.