Chapter 6: Delta
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On their way to Delta on a bumpy bus ride, Meryl asked Vash “Are you sure? The plants were sick like in December?”
He nodded.
They were the only passengers on the bus, and had managed to persuade the bus driver to take them with much difficulty. Clint was sick again, a wet wash cloth rested on his forehead, and Vash felt almost just as bad with worry, Millie on the other hand, was fast asleep having written her family last night, and looked rather comfortable leaning against the window.
Quietly, Vash thought of the night before, over and over, it replayed like a video or a broken record. He recaptured it until he finally realized a severe curiosity.
“Wait a minute…” He said, and sharply turned his head to the sick teenager. “How…” More popped into his head. ‘Oh no,’ he thought.
Clint was afraid of the words that were trying to find their way out of Vash’s mouth; they had both messed up secrecy last night.
“How did you know it was another plant?” Vash asked with caution.
“What?” Clint asked.
“How did you know I knew…” Vash felt his insides stir.
“Well I, I didn’t, I just-“ Clint looked into Vash’s eyes and felt unable to lie after letting such a mistake slip. He paused.
Now watching with interest, Knives wondered if Vash was going to finally become suspicious.
Vash looked at the resembling teenager.
“I know you’re not human,” Clint sighed.
“Who told you that?” Vash asked.
“No one!” Clint quickly answered. “I found out on my own.”
“I knew you were clever, but not that clever.” Vash wasn’t sure why, but he smiled. “Listen…” he leaned closer to Clint. “Let’s keep it a secret.”
“Of course.” He smiled.
“Darn, am I that easy to read?”
“No,” Clint shook his head. “I just have a knack for it.”
“Good, because,” he leaned even closer. “I’d be in big trouble with her.”
“Meryl?” Clint whispered.
Vash nodded. “Who knows what she would do to me if she found out about it…me and her…”
Staring into the bland desert that stretched further than the eye could see, Knives had lost earshot and interest in the conversation.
The desert was a wasteful piece of land, incapable for millions of living organisms to survive with out the right tools. It glared at him as his mind left it alone, becoming preoccupied with former matters.
Flashback
“Master,” Legato bowed. “The rebellious is believed to be dead.”
“Do you have proof?” Knives asked.
“No, master.” Legato bowed deeper, seeking apology.
“Then find some.” His master demanded, narrowing his eyes.
“As you wish,” Legato answered and departed to get the job done before consequences could arise.
He never did. Legato never found proof of the man…whether he was living or dead, was left alone when the bullet pierced Legato’s imperfect body.
End flashback
Knives looked at his sleek gun. It was time to decide which side he belonged to, the line between Vash and his past was too thin to stand on anymore. If that man was still alive, where did Knives belong?
“It’s okay,” a joyful voice behind Knives interrupted his thoughts. “I won the pudding contest!” The sleeping insurance girl celebrated, before snuggling into the window more, in a sleep filled with bliss.
“You must get sick when you travel,” Meryl told Clint later on the bus ride, re-wetting his wash cloth with her valuable water bottle, and reuniting it with his forehead.
“Meryl, why did you dump Vash?” He asked.
“What! We weren’t ever together!” Meryl said so loudly that Millie jerked awake and Vash turned to discover was the commotion was.
“I thought- the way it all sounded,” Clint stammered. “I assumed he was your old boyfriend or something.”
“He’s not my old boyfriend!” she said haughtily.
She caught eye contact with Vash, who went red and looked away.
Meryl wanted to scream. What was wrong with all these people?
“I’m engaged!” She bellowed at Clint.
“I know,” he said in a small voice.
Meryl let the angry air out of her lungs. She almost wanted to ask what that broomhead had been saying to make him think such an outrageous idea.
“We weren’t ever together. He was my job, and then we were just friends.” She said more calmly.
“Then you liked him?”
Sweatdrop.
“It was a long time ago.” Meryl grumbled. “Not to mention one sided.”
“One sided?” Clint asked curiously.
Meryl waved the idea away with her hand; she had no desire to further the conversation.
….
Jolting to a harsh stop, the bus doors opened to let the passengers depart from the sickening transportation.
“Thanks for the ride,” Clint nodded to the bulky irritated fat man behind the wheel.
“Thank you,” Vash said, stepping off.
“Whatever,” the driver grumbled and shut the door with a loud creak.
They felt the dust flow into their lungs as the bus rolled away from them. Clint coughed in response, and Meryl watched it leave, looking very annoyed.
Facing the annihilated town, Vash stared at the cracked and crumbling buildings that haunted him with despair, reaching at him like a poor beggar. Slowly he began to walk towards them, but something felt very wrong. He picked up speed, walking faster and faster until he was running.
“Vash? Where are you going?” Meryl darted after him. “What’s-“
“The people,” Vash yelled. “There isn’t a soul…”
Like grasping for air when being pulled too long under water, he searched the deserted streets full of decomposing buildings. After a half a dozen blocks, the buildings dispersed until only bare dirt surrounding a large crater was under his feet.
His feet fell limp and he was obligated to come to a stop.
“Oh no,” Meryl whispered as she stopped at Vash’s feet, staring at the satanic pit.
“What’s happening?” Vash asked.
‘Don’t cry,’ Meryl begged within herself. ‘I hate his tears.’
“I don’t know what to do.” Vash said with defeat. “I don’t know where to start. I don’t know what to look for!”
His once perky shoulders sloped down revealing a melancholy stature that would make even the suns shining down on them depressed.
Vash was Meryl’s job once, a friend, a love. She swore she would follow him always, and do whatever she could to stop his hurt, and to help him. Her will was so strong she thought the only way anyone could stop her would be to tie her to a block of iron with barbed wire, and leave her in uncharted desert to die. But Vash found something worse. Something that tripped, confused, and dazed her countless times.
Remembering this, she watched his red coat furl in the wind like a flag.
“Vash,” she spoke. “We’ll figure this out; I promise…I’ll help you get to the bottom of it.” She wasn’t sure why she had said it, but too late now, it was out. Even if Vash was her past, he was still part of her… somewhere.
“I don’t want to fight anymore…” he answered.
“I’ll help you too!”
Meryl turned to see Millie and the teenager quite out of breath, obviously from running after them. Their hair tangled from the wind, and their mouths dry from battered breath.
“Now we have lots to do!” Millie continued.
Meryl wondered what was needed to be done in the middle of what was now a nowhere. Suddenly she remembered another report was essential.
“We’ll search for survivors,” Millie suggested. “And you two can make camp!”
“Now wait a minute,” Meryl said with more force than she had intended. “Clint has been sick, and that goes for you too, Millie.”
“Hmm… you’re right, we’ll make camp and you two will scope the place.”
Meryl opened her mouth, she was thinking of scrambling the pairs, but unfortunately, Millie’s plan was more logical. Closing her mouth, she glanced at Vash, awaiting his word.
….
Knives was searching the town for a specific someone, eyes darting wildly around every corner as he dashed up and down streets full of broken buildings.
Was he possibly still here?
Just as Knives wondered this, a soft thump sounded, and a small distance in front of him stood a rough looking man dressed in very ragged clothing and a hat that perched itself roughly on the top of his matted hair.
Knives stopped, grinning.
He was still here.
….
The streets Vash and Meryl traveled down were eerie, and quiet. Buildings outlined the streets, disturbing to the eyes, and mangled worse than those of December.
“Do you think we’ll find any survivors?” Meryl asked, walking along side of Vash.
“In all truth?” He asked with glossy eyes. “No, but I’m anything but hopeless. If we do, we can get more information.”
They caught eye contact for a moment before he started scanning the area again.
Gasping within herself, Meryl almost stumbled backward. The alarm clock had finally gone off and she had immediately been thrust from her sleep, remembering forgotten information that had once been so essential to her.
His eyes. Yes, his eyes! She remembered how they looked that night in the candle light, how they’ve looked a lot since she had met him again. It came back in a serious of flashes that sped through her mind, unclogging her memory. She saw him eating donuts, him in trouble, him embarrassed, when he remembered murder, him sad and empty, when he felt alone, him thinking of Rem, him after defeating Knives, and she always saw his eyes.
She didn’t forget him…she didn’t belong at his side anymore, but how did she- how could she forget how to evaluate those eyes? She was excited she had remembered, but angry she had forgotten.
….
Knives smirked, and even laughed a little at the man before him. He was a haggard with an overgrowth of hair in various places, and his once dazzling golden blue eyes were now a cold grey washed over with the past.
“Chame. I knew you were behind this- the only one with the patience, determination, and wisdom to create such havoc.”
Motionless, the man stared at Knives.
“Now tell me,” Knives continued. “What are you planning to do now that you’ve fished me out? I’ll even consider your plan; you’ve gotten this far on your own. I’ll take you, free of penalties.”
Chame cursed under his breath. “I didn’t do this for you.” He pulled out a gun and filled it with ammunition. “I did it for me.” He aimed it at Knives. “Imagine a place between life and death.”
….
“Are you coming?” Vash asked Meryl.
She hadn’t even noticed she had stopped walking until he asked this; her mind had been gulped by her memory which contained the messages brought by Vash’s eyes.
“Yes, sorry,” she hurried up to him.
Watching her, he turned away.
Meryl’s heart jumped as she remembered his eyes when they had played Sand and Stone, and how similar they were just now.
“Do you… think he likes you?” Millie’s voice rang in her ear.
‘Ugh! That stupid broomhead!’ She screamed inside herself. ‘Oh I hate him! Creep!’
“Are you okay?” Vash asked sincerely after examining the look on her face.
“Just fine!” She growled, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out she was very upset.
“What’s wrong?” Vash blinked.
Meryl clenched her fist at the innocent haunting eyes. “You know I’m engaged!” she said bitterly.
“Yes, how it that?” Vash asked. Maybe she was upset about that.
Meryl didn’t understand why he would ask.
When she didn’t answer, Vash continued. “Has he written you?”
“No,” she frowned, forgetting the anger inside her. “We’ve been traveling too much, but I’m sure he’s tried.”
“Of course,” Vash assured.
“I need to go home soon.”
“To get ready for the wedding?”
Meryl nodded, scanning the area again. “Then I can see Charles.”
….
Knives stared at the gun before him, laughing. “I hope you’re joking for your sake.”
Chame slowly shook his head.
Knives became serious. “Your thinking always got to you…”
“A draw.”
Knives smirked again. “A little reckless to give your life up after Janell tried so hard to preserve it.” He pulled out his black gun.
“You’re a thief, you swore us the money, but you let him die!”
“For someone so smart, you’ve really got your emotions tangled; one of the reasons it didn’t work. I must remind you, Wolfwood was the one who sold you to me in the first place.”
“He had to,” Chame snarled. “Because of you, but you and Legato lied.”
“It was Wolfwood’s choice; it was his destiny the second he let his first bullet fly. He was meant to get involved in such matters.”
“I changed my destiny.”
Knives shook his head. “You were always rebellious, naive even, but most humans- partial human are.”
“Enough talk,” Chame spat. “All that matters is what you are, and what you won’t be when I’m done.”
“Heh,” Knives replied loathingly.
If Chame had come for a fight, Knives would personally guarantee him the opportunity.
….
Searching each building, Vash and Meryl walked from place to place, praying that any survivors could, with their help, remain survivors.
“How did you meet him?” Vash asked, as they walked towards what looked like an old grocery store…or what was left of it.
“At the city fair. He just came up to me, and introduced himself, I was very hesitant, but he never held back.” She sighed. “I wasn’t interested at first, and tried to shake him off.”
“Of course,” Vash said, entering the shattered store. “The only thing that scares you is yourself.” He avoided looking at her as he gave a small smile; a small smile with pain. Surprisingly, he still had a hard time swallowing the idea of her marriage. “…afraid of the feelings that are natural…”
She opened her mouth to speak, but then Vash added. “It’s okay…I am too.” He glanced at her just for a moment. “No one’s in here.”
He turned to leave.
Meryl knew the look of the eyes; the sober glow represented him thinking of the woman that had encouraged Meryl’s distance, Rem.
“No…” Meryl disagreed, following him outside. “It’s not true… I was afraid on the Sandsteamer.”
“Yes, me too, but you’re always brave.”
“That’s not true anymore either, Vash, I almost couldn’t do anything…”
“It’s okay.”
“No! It’s not! I’m not the same anymore!”
Vash was taken aback by her tone.
“Things are different for me.” She continued. “Vash, I was really afraid! I can’t live like this.”
Questioning, he looked at her.
“Like, like this,” she motioned to the broken businesses and houses. “I wish I could like I used to, but I can’t, I’m not cut out for it anymore.”
Vash grew quiet as she explained her turmoil, and once she was finished, answered. “It’s okay, I understand.” At her words, he felt sorrowful, finally realizing Meryl wasn’t constantly Meryl anymore. Meryl would make promises of hope to Vash, but she would keep those promises, and this insurance girl just couldn’t anymore.
An uncomfortable silence brushed over them until Vash began to call out for lost souls again as they trudged down the street.
In her own thoughts, Meryl felt guilty. She had always known Vash had wanted to settle down, like she was about to, but he couldn’t. If he did, no one else would be able to live any kind of life. And she had just rubbed it in his face.
….
BANG!
“ERRAAH!” Knives ran forward and dodged the bullet with diligent speed.
He brought forth his bloodshed hands, aimed, and shot.
Placing his hand on his hat like he was tipping Knives a farewell, Chame moved behind a house resembling a grave- out of Knives’ perception.
‘The poor wretched mind can’t even tell the difference between a draw and a gunfight,’ Knives thought.
Peering before he went, Knives snuck against the other side of the building. After reaching the corner, he peered, and continued to the back of it. Dangerously holding his gun, he jumped out, prepared to attack like a cat, but Chame wasn’t there.
He glanced behind- no Chame- forward- no Chame.
Cautiously, he continued searching around the building again.
BANG!
Knives slid out of the way. If he wasn’t doing the hunting, he was being hunted.
Another bang while his feet were still sliding against the coarse dirt and the pain twitched in his shoulder as the bullet struck from above him.
He whirled his eyes up and clutched his shoulder- his bleeding hole of flesh. It hurt so horribly, like needles were under the skin and spreading out in every direction.
As he pondered of the roofs above, he noticed the mangled debris cutting through the backside of the building, shaped perfect for latching on to and climbing up.
He planted his hands and feet on the bricks, and with much difficulty, began climbing up the side of the building.
The brick sides of the building reached up some feet further than the flat slightly caved in roof, forming a sort of railing around it
Chame nested his back against the small brick-railed edge (the same side his enemy was going to be climbing over) and held the gun steady in his hands. Listening to Knives struggle up the wall, he prayed he wouldn’t he wouldn’t be seen before the right time made itself clear.
Once Knives’ hands reached the ledge, his eyes searched the building tops. ‘Where is he?’ He listened intently for the smallest, quietest noise.
Chame rose up and Knives immediately reacted the moment he heard his body rub the brick lining. As Chame aimed, Knives let his body slip out of sight as the gun went off.
Knives swung his legs up to the edge, and heaved his body’s momentum over the brick lining.
He rolled to his feet before Chame could realize what was happening, forced his enemy’s hand behind his back, and pushed his stomach against the brick edge.
Chame struggled, but Knives put nearly all his weight on him by practically laying on his back; because Knives was older, and stronger, Chame was left looking down the side of the building.
….
Vash brought Meryl into another broken building on the other side of town. Half of this one was crumbled to the ground, and they could smell the particles of debris. He brought her to a halt.
“Did you hear that?” Vash asked the insurance girl.
She shook her violet head.
“Is someone there?” Vash called out, he knew he heard movement. “Come one,” he said to Meryl. “I don’t think this was all in vain.”
Meryl followed Vash into another room, and they both heard the scratching noise.
Vash felt hope bloom, his heart pumping.
“Where are you?” He asked.
Scratch. Scratch.
Bolting to the rubble in the corner of the room, Vash began digging through it powerfully with his hands. Meryl came to his aide, mentally preparing herself for the condition of the body, but of all the images of cracks, cuts, and bruises, couldn’t have ever prepared her for what she encountered.
“Almost… almost….”
Vash dug until he felt the body warmth. The body was very small, fragile, and…and… “Furry!”
“Mi-aw!”
The cat leapt onto Meryl’s head.
“Get it off. Getitoff!” She cried.
The cat hissed as she tried to force it off her head.
Vash chuckled.
“It’s not funny!” Meryl growled, as the albino cat’s claws tangled her hair.
“Re-arw!” It threatened.
Still chuckling, Vash reached for it, pulled it up, and untangled the claws. It hissed and glared at him with its big red and black eyes. Studying the cat’s features, Vash blinked.
“Re-arw!”
It reached its claws out and…slice!
“Ouch!” Vash dropped it, and held his nose.
The white cat dashed out the window in a bitter mood.
“Am I bleeding?” He asked the frizzy haired insurance girl, and moved his hands.
She nodded, tending to her hair.
Vash went cross eyed trying to see it, “It hurts…” he frowned.
“I’ve never seen a cat like that, or as vicious.” Meryl pointed out.
“Albino. Don’t see that very often. It’s something to do with genetics- hereditary I think.”
“Why would a cat like that be here?”
Vash shrugged, and then he smiled. “I wish you could have seen your face!”
“Yeah, well, I wouldn’t be talking!” She pointed to his nose.
“You’re right, but it was entertaining!” His smiled faded. “And disappointing…”
“We’re not done searching yet, Vash” she reminded.
“Then let’s get going,” he agreed. “Someone could be hurt.”
‘Why does he have Rem written all over his face?’ Meryl wondered as she watched him. ‘Why does he look at me like that?’ She sighed. ‘He’s the most complicated man I’ve ever met…and if he even likes me-! He missed his chance, whatever affected him after we separated. Uugh! What is going on in that broomhead of his!’
She followed him back out into the street.
….
Chame felt his insides squish against the cold bricks.
“You think you can defeat me?” Knives asked.
“I think I’ve done good so far, don’t you?” Chame smirked.
Knives was quiet.
“What? Waiting for me to change my mind?” Chame asked. “There’s nothing standing between us. You really are a coward, all plants are, and besides your enemy, Vash, I’m the only link to your past. Your only living once pawn. From my point of view, your forces are all gone, and I’m taking advantage of that. I’m here to haunt you until your death; until I get and do what Wolfwood deserved.”
“Want me to show you how easy it was to kill an innocent man?” Knives asked, digging his gun into Chame’s back.
“I hate you.”
Knives pulled his finger back on the trigger. Just as the gun went off, Chame squirmed and as if he hadn’t felt anything pierce the side of his back, he tackled Knives, whose gun skid across the roof. In a rage of fury, Chame came at him, and with all his strength, he went for Knives’ wounded shoulder, while at the same time, trying to get his gun up.
“Rah!” Knives kneed him hard in the gut.
BANG! Chame’s gun fired into the air.
Knives reached for the arm that was holding it, and then continued physically at him. He tried to pull the gun away, but retreated when Chame nearly blew a hole through Knives’ arm.
Thirsting for blood like wolves, they tackled each other to the ground. Hatred pumping in Chame’s heart, more hatred than he had ever felt- such a thirst for his blood, his murder, his revenge, that I can hardly find the words to describe it. Grunting, yelling, firing, adrenaline pulsed, and they were so involved in annihilating each other that it happened so fast. Suddenly Knives spotted the precise moment, his mind working faster than could be understood; he brought up and hurled the being over the brick edge.
Knives stumbled back to the ground of the roof, his cold pupils growing smaller. He tried to catch his breath as his brain organized the information. He had just thrown Chame off the roof and to the ground. Once he realized what had happened, he subconsciously jumped up and peered down the building. Chame was gone. He sighed, and sulked down again. The needles went back into place of his shoulder, and he moaned.
Retrieving his black gun, he looked down at it.
He hadn’t expected to fight Chame. It wasn’t fun and games anymore. Chame wasn’t a child anymore, and he wasn’t joking about killing him. He was trained to be superb in his works.
….
Meryl continued to ponder and her pondering led her to Clint, completely lovable, but a complete mystery.
“Vash, whether or not Clint’s you son, how-“
“Woah! He’s not my son!” Vash jumped out of his own pondering.
Meryl looked at him in disbelief.
“Oh come one, you said so yourself!” Vash reminded.
Suddenly Meryl became frustrated. “For love’s sake, Vash, he looks like a younger you! It’s not normal!”
It was Vash’s turn to look at the insurance girl in disbelief, but his expression was more of a disappointed disbelief, while hers was more of a you-must-be-joking disbelief.
“My gosh, I’m not going to be jealou-“ Meryl changed direction mid-sentence. “Just be honest with me!”
Vash found it strange she was asking him to be honest, when she was the one who kept changing her opinion. He knew her pondering got to her, but never had it been this extreme. She was the one who needed to be honest.
“For love’s sake,” he repeated the ironic words that fit so well. Ironic for if Clint was his son; it wouldn’t be from love, but fitting for him and his action towards Meryl ever since he had battled Knives.
Meryl stood firm.
“For love’s sake, I don’t know what to answer.” He said more calm. “For being honest, he’s not mine, and for love’s sake, I thought you knew me better.”
Something about the way he said it, the tone in his voice mixed Meryl up even more, because Vash loved women when she met him, and it was well before she met him.
“I don’t know why he looks like me, but I know personally he’s not mine.”
“What I was going-“
“But it doesn’t matter if I know, what matters is if you know. Do you?” He looked into her eyes, and even stopped walking now.
Meryl pursed her lips. She wanted to believe him so bad, but it was just too much of a coincidence.
Vash turned away disappointed.
Meryl couldn’t stand it. “I want to believe.”
“Think about it.” He answered.
“How long is he going to be with you? In this danger?”
Vash shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Someone his age shouldn’t be involved with these matters. He’s brave, but growing up too fast.”
Vash didn’t answer, partly because he believed her, but agreeing meant sending him home. They weren’t blood related, but even without the looks, he could understand strangers mistaking the relationship.
Meryl sighed.
“He’s a good kid.” Vash said.
“Yes, but if you know what’s good for him, you’ll send him home.”
“I’ll think about it.”
It was quiet for a while.
“You know, I’ve never seen his eyes.” Meryl pointed out.
“Neither have I.”
“Don’t you think that’s strange? Always wearing those sunglasses?”
“Don’t teenagers do things like that?”
“I guess.”
“I don’t know, that’s what I assumed.”
….
When Knives had reached the ground again, Chame was standing, waiting from him, ghostly. Blood was down his face and several other places, and he was slightly hunched over from the fall.
Knives stared at him.
“This is it, killer,” Chame announced. “The time of sweet revenge.” He smiled.
Knives yelled as he charged for him.
Chame pulled out his gun and fired.
Knives touched the ground to avoid it while Chame retreated several steps back.
It was a battle for revenge, for faith, for love, for loss, and for hate; nothing fuels a person fighting more. They fought like savages, mingling strategy and cruelty into one big cry of emotion- gun firing, bodies subconsciously aching. They dashed and collided like fireworks- lusting for blood of one another. Their sweaty faces, hateful expressions, and blood of needles sinking in the grave like dirt.
Bullets in the sides, legs, upper back, and one would think it was a miracle they were still fighting and shooting.
They fell to the dirt, rolling moving, aiming, shooting.
Clunk!
Chame’s gun flew across the ground. Knives seized the moment and put his grim reaper gun to Chame’s neck.
“I’m done waiting,” Knives breathed.
A part of his gun removed to reveal a bright orb of light.
….
Vash stopped, sensing a sudden distasteful power.
“We need to find Knives!” He told Meryl urgently.
“What is it?” Meryl asked.
“If he’s not hurt, someone else will be, I don’t know why else he would use gun in angel form…or use his angel arm.”
Meryl felt sick.
Picking up Knives’ power, Vash directed. “This way, hurry!”
Having fear come back to her, Meryl followed Vash before her mind could get in the way of her bravery.
….
“Chame, it was easy to kill Chapel. I still remember his dying screams. Fool! Now tell me, can you imagine that place between life and death?”
Reflecting in Chame’s eyes, the orb increased in stature, but Knives’ finger didn’t move.
Chame stared into his eyes, waiting for the blow, waiting until he realized he was waiting for nothing.
Still breathing hard, he gambled. He slapped his had to his side, and found the small oddly shaped gun, a gun that wasn’t filled with bullets.
“Don’t move!” Knives pressed his angel gun to Chame’s throat, but Chame just smiled, baring his dirty teeth.
“If you pull that trigger in that aim with that power, you’ll kill us both. I know you won’t because you’re afraid.”
He pressed the gun into Knives stomach.
“This isn’t just for Vash anymore,” Chame taunted.
Color drained out of Knives’ face.
Chame grinned with satisfaction. “I don’t have to be a plant to know what you’re thinking and the answer is yes, this is it. The ammunition in this proves your theory true, and the dying plants are evidence of it. How does it feel to have your own idea backfire?”
Knives felt sweat drip down his neck.
“I’ll kill you and the so called Vash with it.”
They looked into each other’s eyes for a long time.
“Darn you!” Chame cursed, and lowered the gun.
Knives watched in confusion
“I came to kill Knives, dang it!” He glared at him. “You’re not Knives,” Chame shook his head. “You make me sicker than before. You’re not him, and I can’t kill someone who isn’t.” And just as simple as that, he tore himself from the blond man, stood up, grabbed his gun, and put on his hat, still cussing.
Knives watched him dumbfounded.
“I’ll be in the city of this time, my next attack at this time,” Chame nodded to the sunset that glittered over the cemetery town. “And I expect to face Knives there, not you. The real Knives, the one I’m to haunt with this,” he held up the odd gun.
“Mi-aw!”
Chame watched the white cat walk to him gratefully. It purred with a chipper march, and rubbed its body against his leg
“This better be our last goodbye, stranger.” He tipped his hat. “Rade,” he addressed.
The cat looked at him with its big red eyes.
Turning on his heel, Chame began to limp away, the cat following behind.
Knives watched in disbelief until the man was out of view. His wounds hurting badly and his strength disappearing like an ice cube in the desert.
“Knives, what’s wrong?” He heard Vash’s voice minutes later, and looked up to see him and that insurance girl.
“What happened to you?” Vash demanded with utter shock.
Vash was a terrible person, much too loving and much too forgiving. So complex, but filled with what seemed to be his common sense, or in better words his logic.
Meryl scanned the area for any clues, and spotted blood with freshly moved sand around them. It looked like there had been a fight, a struggle.
“I couldn’t, I couldn’t do it,” Knives whispered. Then he let out a wailing scream that echoed through the city and crater.
Vash kneeled at his twin’s side, and reached out to him, to carry him.
“Don’t touch me!” Knives growled.
Vash watched him with concern as he so hurtfully forced himself on his feet. He looked at the darkening road. He took a step, just a simple one that tore Vash.
“Don’t touch me,” he repeated dizzily, and continued. “Leave me alone.”
Meryl and Vash walked by his side in silence.
It was something to see him like this, torn and pushed; he never had much tolerance for pain.
Even if Knives was a horrible horrible man, watching him suffer, Meryl learned, wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. In reality, she hated it and the concern in Vash’s eyes. Maybe it was because every step made it worse, and she was just watching it.
The suns were completely down now, and the sky was darkening. They weren’t anywhere close to camp.
Meryl shivered in the cold that was occupied with Knives’ grunts. They got louder and louder as the night rolled on.
Finally, Knives collapsed on the earth and lost all strength to get up.
Vash bent down and felt his temperature.
“Is he okay?” Meryl asked before noticing the concern for the savage shown in her voice. “We shouldn’t have let him walk.”
“No…but he would have been in even worse shape if we had…he would have never let us…”
Vash pressed his rough palm on his brother’s face.
Meryl watched him with curiosity, and when she couldn’t figure it out, she asked. “What are you doing?”
Vash exhaled and felt energy leaving him while sensing Knives’ increase. “Transferring energy.” He replied, and opened his eyes. Fascinating organisms, plants are; especially twins. One wonders, such as Meryl, how they could be so different in personalities, when so much good comes from being equals.
Vash heaved Knives over his shoulder again.
The man she had been in love with, the man who sacrifices, the man who is invincible; Vash the Stampede.