“Vash-san.”

The blond shadow looked up from the chair by the bed, light from two of the moons filtering in through the windows, barely outlining his figure. “Yes?” That voice, the one he had used to speak of his brother with the priest, that gentle, pained, true voice was the one he was using to speak to her now.

It startled her, but she kept her calm. “You’re not in danger anymore now, are you?”

Aqua turned to her in the dark, bearing it’s own sort of light. “No.” A pause, him considering. “I’m not.”

She took a step closer, a step further into the room, into the dark. She was feeling braver, but there was a block in her throat that would not let her speak what she wanted. “How is he?”

His eyes turned away, back toward his sleeping twin. “He’ll be fine eventually.” Soft darkness. “He’ll need some care for a while. He won’t be able to move very well until those bones heal.”

“I see.” Moon-veiled starlight. She took a deep breath. She had to tell him now. There was no other time. “Vash-san… you can… you can stay here with him. If you’d like.”

Wrong confession! She had already offered him that. She bit her lip.

“I don’t want to be a burden to you two anymore.” Definitive words. Thick. Regret.

She forced a smile to her lips and tried to speak, but he cut her off.

“You’ve both worked so hard for me. But your job is over now, isn’t it.” It was not a question.

“It’s not-“

“I’m sure that I would be fine with him.” There was something tense in his mannerism.

Cold. Silence. A desert of silence.

“Maybe you should go back to December.”

Her throat had closed. Tears threatened her eyes.

“Vash-san.”

There was no response, but she knew he was listening.

“You’ve never said my name.”

There was another barren ache of silent emptiness. She stood, her small hands balled into fists at her thighs, wetness on her cheeks. She was ashamed but desperate.

“I’m sorry.” And that was all.

She was aware of everything in that instant: the way he bent over his brother, so gently, so carefully; the way there was a bright patch from the window on the floor by the bed; the way her fingernails were digging into her palm. The words tasted hard on her lips. “Vash-san, I love you.”

She had said it. Her words hung between them in the night, as tangible as the moonlight, the starlight, her feelings.

There was no way he could escape it now. No jokes or gunshots or brothers killing people. There was only him and her and his unconscious twin. And the cold and the dark and the desert.

Something akin to sorrow and longing thrummed in his tone. “All right. We’ll stay.”
 
 

She didn’t want to write the letter. Every fiber of her being wanted to ignore the typewriter and flee into the cheerful solitude of the part-time job that she had taken on to support their keep. Or else she wanted to sleep and make it go away, to live a quiet simple life, to stay here forever with Vash and Milly.

And Knives.

He hadn’t left the room in three days. Meryl brought him in food and water and bandages and anything else he requested. Milly worked all day with the men in the fields, and when Meryl was not attending to Vash and his brother, she still waitressed at the local diner. It had worked well enough before.

The town was called Springfield, not as ironic as it may have sounded on a desert planet, and was actually fairly green. There was an abundant water source, despite the lack of a local plant, and the townspeople had worked diligently to preserve their crops and their livelihood. She had decided they would have to come here after the fiasco in the town where Vash had convalesced. It was small but reasonably happy. Children played in the streets, unafraid, and men and women laughed on porches at night playing cards and telling stories.

Except at their house.

They were renting a house for now, but the landlady liked her well enough that she had offered to let them buy it if they wanted. She was kind.

She wondered if the typewriter was staring at her.

Milly was asleep in the next room. Vash was with his brother thinking God knows what.

And she was playing her own devil’s advocate with her conscience.

Funny how before she had been assigned this foolish job she had never had any qualms or quandaries about what she wanted and how to get it. Despite her stature, she was strong and determined, ready to work as hard as she could to fulfill her goals and dreams, to achieve greatness.

Until him.

The fool had thrown her off-balance. He was simple, really, yet ridiculously complex. He was amazing physically, able to shoot impossibly well and to live through anything. He was brilliant and gentle and ruthless in his pursuit of an ultimate good, of perfection of happiness, of a place with no Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.

Perhaps that was what she found she found so appealing. His idealism.

She didn’t necessarily believe it – after all, what was good without evil? – but the fact that he was so dedicated, so pure…

And he had never said her name.

She stood slowly, moving toward the idle typewriter, her nightgown draped loosely around her. It was cold, but she reveled in it silently. Cold made her feel something besides emptiness.

He hadn’t told her anything after she had confessed her feelings for him, only that they would stay. He had not spoken except to modify requests for food, clothing, or bandages every time she visited him. Somehow she had known not to ask anything of him. And she worked and slept and ignored the typewriter.

But her report was due. She had not once been late.

She sat slowly, fingers poised over the keys.

The date. Her and Milly’s names. A title.

The report itself.

And then: “I believe the man known as Vash the Stampede will not cause additional damage now that his assailant has been subdued.”

And then: “Furthermore, I believe that the assignment to keep this man under twenty-four hour surveillance is unnecessary.”

And then: “I leave it to the discretion of the company whether we are recalled or whether we are left with him to be sure that it truly is over.”

And then tears.
 
 

The first sun rose hesitantly into the sky, almost as if it were afraid of waking those sleeping below.

It pressed a light finger onto Meryl’s eyelashes, gentle but firm. She blinked, yawned, then stretched languidly out onto the bed. Time to make breakfast.

She pulled herself out from the warm covers, bare feet landing on the still-chilly floor. Her nightgown she tugged off with one pull and then, before the air could completely bite through her skin, donned the blouse and skirt and nylons that the diner demanded for its uniform. The apron she would tie on later, before she left.

Every morning it was like this, alone in the dim kitchen, making breakfast for the two tow-headed men and her dear friend Milly. It had been a long time since she had stopped considering the girl a junior partner, but someone she could trust and love. She would make the food, bring it to Milly in her room, bring Vash his and his brother’s, listen to anything new he wanted for his brother’s needs, and then set off to the store to get them. It was so nice in the morning. This was where she had the time to gather her thoughts before the long workday, a brief chance at sole relaxation.

Which is why it surprised her very much when Vash was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee, with more brewing on the stove.

His back was to her as she stood in the doorway. The smell of coffee wound around her like a cat about ankles. And – he was using her mug.

“Vash-san,” she greeted, although they both knew she was there. A few steps more and she was in front of the stove. “It’s good to see you out of that room.”

It was a little uncomfortable. “I’ve been thinking.”

She paused as she was cracking an egg into the frying pan. Of course he had been thinking. What else could he have done while staring at a prone unconscious man for so long? Stitching? “Oh?”

“Yes. You should stay with Knives and take care of him. I’ll work out in the fields with Milly.” He still hadn’t turned to face her.

There was a long pause, the hand with the egg frozen above the pain. “What?”

He rotated slowly, scraping the chair against the floor. “How close are we to making ends meet?”

She was torn between getting angry or giving in to him. Was he doubting her ability to care of them all? She chose to be cool. “We’re close, but we make it. We always make it.”

“Because you and Milly work so much.” His eyes looked almost blue in the early morning air. “But if I work out in the fields with Milly, not only will food be cheaper and easier to get, but both of you won’t have to work as hard.”

“Vash-san…”

“If you feel guilty about Milly working and you tending to my brother, then you can trade off.” He sounded like he had decided. “Or I can take my brother and leave so you two won’t feel like you have to take care of us.” Grim. Was he heartless? No, only towards her.

She smashed the egg into the pan, very careful to keep the shell from falling in as well. She broke another, angry. He had her trapped. This was unfair.

“Good morning, sempai, Vash-san!” Milly’s voice floated sleepily down the hall, cutting with a soft brush through the acute tension. “The coffee smells good.” Rubbing her eyes, she entered, still clad in her child-like sleepwear. “It’s nice to see you at breakfast, Vash-san.” She gave him a genuine smile, as all of hers were.

“It’s good to be out,” he said, smiling back. Meryl broke another egg. “I’m going to work with you today, Milly, if you think they could use another hand. You’ll have to show me the ropes.”

“Really? I’m sure they’d love another!” The younger girl was pleased. “What about your brother?”

“Your sempai has offered to watch over him,” he announced before taking a large swallow of the dark steaming liquid.

Milly was surprised. “Sempai? You’re going to quit your job?”

A grey wordless stare descended upon the blond man.

He raised his hands immediately, a sheepish look skidding across his face. “Well, maybe we should talk a little bit more about it first…”

Casting him another dark glare, she turned back to the eggs. How had this man ever survived for so long?

The taller girl wandered over and poured herself a cup of coffee, then sat beside Vash. She had not managed to clear the sleep from her eyes, and yawned again.

Meryl set the eggs, differently portioned, onto three separate plates. She kept her own plate at the counter, and set the other two on the table, along with silverware, in front of her companions. She produced some bread and butter and put that on the table as well. It was unusual for all of them to eat together like this. It made her slightly uncomfortable.

“Aren’t you going to eat more than that, sempai?” Milly asked innocently, glancing up from a bite of egg.

“I’m not that hungry this morning,” Meryl replied, smiling gently at her friend. “I’ll be fine.”

As she looked back down to her plate, she caught Vash’s eyes. Something dark glinted at her for a moment before he controlled himself. As quickly as she could, she looked away, putting a forkful of egg into her mouth.

The meal was eaten in hasty silence, Milly a little puzzled as to the subdued manner of the other two. When she was done, she stood and stretched, then placed her dishes in the sink. “I’m going to go get dressed, Vash-san. Don’t leave without me.” With a smile and a wave, she disappeared down the hall again.

Meryl waited, chewing hard on the egg. She felt like a child caught cheating on a spelling test.

“’Making ends meet’, huh?” he asked quietly, no condemnation in his voice.

She swallowed, trying to force the egg down. There was little she could say in her defense. The morning felt too chilly.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“You didn’t need to know.”

Silence. He wasn’t looking at her.

“I eat enough at work. You don’t need to worry about me.” She was feeling ashamed – not that she hadn’t been eating, but that she had been caught.

“You’ll go to the restaurant and tell them you can’t work there anymore, and I’ll go with Milly. Or I’ll take Knives and you two will have to return to December.”

It was uncharacteristically firm for him, harsh even. If she wanted to stay with him, she would have to care for his brother, to stop working her job, to relinquish her control. And if she didn’t…

She might never see him again.

She restrained her first response. She wanted to be with him. Control and feeling like he had reduced her to a little child could not be more important than love. But she was angry. He was threatening her and he knew he would win. What had happened to the sweet gentle man who sat over his twin?

He was being ridiculously unfair. How could she have fallen for a pig-headed, manipulative man like him? She was silent, arguing mentally with herself.

“You’re the only one I trust enough to take care of him.” His voice sounded sad. “I can’t let you starve for me.”

Manipulative indeed.

“Fine.” She raised her eyes slowly to find him looking back at her. “I’ll go and tell them. And I’ll take care of him.”

His demeanor was suddenly manically cheerful. “Really? I know you’ll take good care of him because you took such good care of me.” A grin. “And keep that uniform.”

Meryl blinked, confused, warmed by his words, but wary. “Why?”

His grin increased. “You look cute in it.”

“Vash-san, I’m waiting! Hurry!” broke in Milly’s voice in a sing-song manner from outside the house.

“I’m coming!” he called back cheerily, standing and exiting without another word.

Meryl tried to drown the blush that threatened her cheeks in a last desperate gulp of coffee.
 
 

He had a scar, small, circular, white, on his thigh. The rest of his body was perfect, unmarred. He was pale and unconscious, a killer of men, women, and children indiscriminately, a god and a devil, and the twin of the man she loved.

Of course he had other marks now, both thighs, his arms, his shoulders… Vash had placed the shots perfectly. Destructive, but not irreparable.

But she wasn’t sure why he was unconscious.

When Vash had been unconscious those ten days after he had killed Legato, she had been sure the emotional stress had caused that more than his physical wounds. Was it that Knives had suffered some emotional blow? Had his brother shooting him been too much for him?

She sighed and settled back in her chair, knitting. It made her feel like an old woman, but they would need warmer clothes soon. It wasn’t that there was a specific “winter” here, as she had heard tales of, but there was a time of the year during which even in the daytime it was colder, when they drifted in their very elliptical orbit away from the sun. Her mother had explained to her that the two suns were fairly close together, but not too close, so that their gravity did not smash them together. The suns went around each other in a fairly consistent circle, and their planet went around these suns in a shape like an egg or a drop of water. The orbit widened as it got nearer the suns, and narrowed as it was further away at the other end. She hadn’t fully understood it, but had passed the tests well enough in school.

She had finished Milly’s sweater. It was a light blue color, like sky. Meryl hoped it would bring out the girl’s eyes. She had the potential to be so pretty, but had never striven for that. Though Meryl hesitated to do anything outright – she wasn’t sure if Milly wanted to be with anyone after the priest – she could be sneaky in subtle ways like this without reproach.

She was working on Vash’s now.

Funny how with Milly’s sweater, she had been very careful. She loved her friend and wanted the best for her.

But making this sweater now… she was tender.

She counted. Another row. The needles glinted in the bright light from the suns outside. The sweater was red. He looked good in red. It was how she remembered him.

Next would be Knives’. That would be blue as well, dark blue, with light blue stripes to use up the rest of the thread from Milly’s. She hadn’t bought any yarn for herself yet. She expected it to be a haphazard amalgamation of blues and red.

How long had it been since she had been sitting here, alone but for the soft breathing of the quiet blond plant in the bed beside her? Months? Years? Eons?

But after the suns went down, Vash and Milly would be back, and she would cook for them while Vash checked on his brother. When she was done, he would return to the kitchen, watching her eat like a vigilant mother, and say something like, “Only five days with you and already he looks better.”

She sighed. Only five days, this being the fifth. If he didn’t wake up soon, she would stab him with her knitting needles.

Her eyes lowered to his face. It was strange. He and Vash had the exact same features, except that Vash had a small mole and slightly darker hair. She wondered if he had the same color eyes as Vash when they flickered open and froze on her.

They were ice blue.

She did not jump, despite being startled, and simply set her knitting (stitch forty-five, she reminded herself inwardly) down on the floor beside her. She remained where she was. “Hello,” she greeted hesitantly, testing the waters.

His face twisted into a scowl, and she vaguely contemplated whether Vash could do that too. His eyes held a flavor of hatred and disgust she had never seen before. “What have you done with Vash?” he hissed between tight lips.

Admittedly, she was somewhat afraid. This man had wanted to cause ultimate suffering to Vash. Killing her wouldn’t do the trick, but it probably couldn’t hurt. “He’s out working,” she replied, her voice a thick façade of calm. “Someone has to pay for rent and food while you sleep.”

Lips curled in a mocking sneer. “So I could kill you right now. And the whole town.”

She shrugged and picked up her knitting again. “You could, I suppose. If you could move.”

Ah, she had called his bluff. He growled, loudly, wordlessly.

“Are you hungry?” she offered, trying to remember what number (forty-five? fifty-four?) she had left off at. She didn’t want to have to recount a whole row.

He didn’t answer, but glared at her, raw hate in his eyes.

She glanced back up at him, giving up on the knitting for a moment. “Well, I’m going to get some lunch. I expect Vash-san will be bringing home doughnuts again tonight, so I’d better grab a healthy snack. Do you like fruit? Or do you want a drink?”

Again, he held his frozen silence.

She stood, exited just as silently, and returned with two glasses of water and an apple. Biting into the latter, she set the glasses down on the table near her.

“Would you like water, Knives-san? Or do you have any particular favorite foods?” The apple was delicious.

“Filthy human,” he spat, and then wiggled slowly over until he was on his side, facing away from her.

The rest of the afternoon, despite her queries, requests, or gentle reprimands, he would not speak or respond to her. She had to content herself with knitting red. And red. And red.
 
 

The sweater looked very good on Milly. Meryl noted with a smirk that it was a little smaller around than the girl would have wanted, hugging her waist and curves. Despite this, Milly was grateful and thanked her profusely. The dark-haired girl, pleased with her underhanded victory, merely smiled and accepted graciously.

Vash had returned that night, and, upon hearing that his brother was awake, had actually left the doughnuts in the kitchen and disappeared into the bedroom. She had waited in the kitchen for him, keeping the soup warm, standing over the stove emptily. It had been four hours since he had come home. Milly had gone to bed a while back. Except for the rustling of the wind, the house was nearly silent.

She set the burner under the soup to the lowest setting, and eased herself slowly into the chair in front of the table. Vash’s bright red sweater, finished, lay on the opposite end, bright in the moonlight. She wanted to see it on him. He and Milly had come in complaining about the cold this evening. She had announced that Knives had woken up before offering him the sweater, and so had not had the chance.

She rested her head slowly on her arms. She was tired, despite the frustrating fact she had done very little that day. She doubted Vash would come out tonight, but she would wait her if he did. She didn’t want him to have to eat cold food.

She must have dozed off briefly, because there was suddenly a light touch on her shoulder, and a soft, soft voice. “Are you awake?”

She sat upright abruptly. “Yes.” Her eyes raised to him, a shadow in the night, then widened. She stood, pushing past him, and hurried to the soup. A thin film had formed over the top, but that could be fixed. She stirred it, trying to make sure he wouldn’t be able to tell. It was still warm. “I’m sorry… it’s still good though.”

Amusement glinted in his tone. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll eat it later.” He paused for a second, and she turned, sensing his serious mood. “She’s asleep, isn’t she?” he asked, meaning Milly.

A nod.

He nodded back, his face a mask. “Would you come meet him with me now? He’ll be better with me there, I think.” Sweet inquisitiveness held his eyes.

The sweater could wait. She smiled slightly and nodded again, turning off the stove.

He was sitting up in bed. Pain wrinkled his forehead the instant before he saw her follow his brother through the door, but smoothed into stoicism after. Vash sat in the chair Meryl had occupied earlier in the afternoon. She simply stood behind him, unsure what to do.

Vash spoke first. “This is the girl I told you about. The one who is going to take care of you while you recover.” Knives gave her a momentary dark look, but did not reply. Instead, Vash looked disgruntled. “Well, you had better get over it then. She’s the one who is going to feed you and take care of all your other needs, and she gets angry if you’re rude.” Briefly, Meryl contemplated smacking him, but then considered that it would merely serve to illustrate his point. "Yes, she’s just human, but that will suffice.” There was a long pause, Meryl feeling inordinately awkward.  They almost seemed to be conversing. Twin speak? She had heard of twins talking in their own private language, but never one that was just body language.

“I will not,” Knives declared, his voice a darker version of Vash’s.

“You don’t have a choice,” Vash replied, his tone as even as his brother’s.

“Please, Knives-san, I promise to do my best for you if that’s what Vash-san-“ Meryl began hesitantly.

He cut her off with a glare, eyes much darker than their bright blue warranted, even in the night.

Aqua eyes, a mixture of frustration and regret, turned to her. “You should go to bed. You’ll have a long day tomorrow.”

It looked that way. She inclined her head towards them. “Goodnight, Knives-san, Vash-san,” and exited before either of them could reply.

Well, maybe she would give him his sweater tomorrow.
 
 

Milly cried in her sleep.

Every night, when Meryl went to bed, she could hear her.

And every morning when they got up, Meryl asked her how she had slept, and Milly always smiled brightly and asked, “Fine, and you?” And Meryl would want to throw her arms around her and hug her so tightly that the pain would go away forever.

But she couldn’t.

And this man, this man before her, he was the one who had caused Milly this pain. He had killed the priest with another's hand.

And Meryl was helpless.

He faced the ceiling, back flat on the bed, eyes directly up. He had not answered any of her questions. She was knitting his sweater, blue and blue, day sky and night sky, his eyes and the priest’s eyes.

Milly’s eyes and the priest’s eyes.

She would make him talk. She had promised Vash to heal him. That included his heart.

“Why do you hate humans so much?” she asked quietly between the clicking of her needles.

There was silence for a moment and she feared that he would not answer even this. But then, miraculously: “You kill and kill. You destroy for your own needs. You act on your material desires without self-control. You are simply parasites.” He was still focused on that point in the ceiling.

The click of the needles was ceaseless. What could she say to that? He had seen the world. He knew how it worked. He was not stupid.

“You’re right.”

There was another long pause, his face expressionless. She halted her knitting and set it gently on her lap. The world felt strange, as if she were listening to the heartbeats of every person in the world, all at once.

“But we’re trying to fix that.” She raised her eyes to him, studying his features. He looked so much like Vash.

A derisive snort. He turned his eyes slightly toward her, away from that spot in the sky. She counted it a victory. “You are inherently flawed. Even were you in a perfect place, you would still be selfish. You would still kill for more."

She smiled faintly. “Again, you’re right.” Shifting her weight, she leaned forward slightly. “But how does that make us different from you?”

Cool, calculating blue eyed her, any emotion masked. How often had she seen this same mask on Vash? It did not faze her. “I rid the world of your plague.”

Ah, there it was. “But aren’t you yourself the same sort of plague?” His eyes narrowed as she spoke. “How many plants did you kill when you caused the Great Fall? How much blood of your own people do you have on your hands?”

Now his eyes widened, traces of emotion breaking through the mask. Anger, hatred… and was that despair? She was inordinately pleased and a great deal frightened. Her approach had elicited a response, but at what cost to her?

“Some sacrifice is necessary for the good of many,” he said, lowly and cold. She noted with a twinge of apprehension that his fists were clenched at his side.

“Your brother doesn’t agree with that,” she murmured, picking up the knitting again. Her needles were poor weapons.

“My brother is a fool!” He spat the words out like they tasted terrible.

She saw the first genuine expression on his face besides anger in the next moment as she began to laugh. He was surprised. He quickly recovered and changed it to suspicion with a dash of consternation.

“You’re right again, Knives-san,” she said, some cheer returning to her voice as she smiled at him. “Your brother is a fool.”

“Why is that amusing to you?” He frowned, distrust still lacing his eyes. This seemed another victory; he had directly asked her a question.

She cleared her throat, still bemused. “Because it’s so true. I’ve never met a man as honest and foolish as Vash-san."

There was a momentary silence as Knives watched her intensely, no trace of anything on his face, and then turned back to that spot on the ceiling. She smiled slightly at his raised face and continued on his sweater. It would keep him warm. She would make sure to take good care of him.
 
 

It was not like pulling teeth. It was much more difficult.

She sat with him all day, and when Vash and Milly came home, he would go to his brother, and she and Milly would make supper and chat in the kitchen. It was refreshing to be around the girl, the complete opposite of Knives. She wondered sometimes if they somehow came in contact whether they would explode like matter and anti-matter. Either that, or he’d be intrigued by this example of a pure human, so foreign to him.

She had marked the calendar eleven times since he had spoken to her about humans, twelve since he had awoken, and seventeen since she had started caring for him. Twenty since she had written the letter.

And twenty-one since she had told him she loved him.

Certainly her report had arrived at the Society in December by now. She anticipated the reply any day now, although not with much hope.

“Sempai, the soup,” Milly prompted, looking worriedly at her elder. There was something in those blue eyes that she would never understand, could never understand.

Meryl blinked, then turned to the soup she was supposed to have been watching and stirred it, barely saving it from boiling over. “Thanks, Milly.” Another stir, then another. Again. Again. A pattern.

“Sempai, what’s wrong?” Milly had busied herself with chopping onions, a task she knew well Meryl hated. The dark-haired girl was grateful that she didn’t have to meet her eyes.

“I’m just wondering what the Society will say in reply to my report.” She paused, stirring again, silent.

“What do you think it will say?” asked the younger girl.

A long void. “I think it will tell us to come back to December.”

Milly glanced at her, a hint of a smile in her eyes. “And you think Vash-san won’t come with us if we have to?”

The world felt fuzzy, blurry. How would she know? She hardly knew anything about him for sure except that he loved his brother. “He has no reason to come with us. He has a place to live and a way to earn money here.” She scooped up a handful of chopped onions from Milly and dropped them into the soup.

Milly responded with a thoughtful yet noncommittal noise that did not indicate her viewpoint at all. Meryl sighed quietly.

It was silent another moment.

“Sempai, there’s a heaven, right?” Her voice was soft, betraying only a hint of the weariness she must have felt, both physically and emotionally.

Meryl’s voice was almost ferociously adamant. “Yes,” she responded immediately, turning to meet Milly’s eyes directly. “There is a heaven. There is definitely a heaven.”

The girl was a bit surprised at the intensity of the response, but smiled slightly and continued chopping onions. “You should get Vash-san. I’ll set out the table.”

Meryl nodded, and started toward the bedroom that Knives occupied.

And then jumped, startled by the two blond men standing in the hallway, one supporting the other.

A sheepish grin popped onto Vash’s face. “Um… we’re going to try this tonight. He’s been feeling better.”

She nodded slowly and retreated back into the kitchen, wondering vaguely whether she should give Knives any sharp utensils, but then decided to trust Vash’s judgment.

Milly looked up questioningly when she re-entered, but she just shook her head slightly and hurried to set out glasses of water for each of them. Milly understood when she saw four cups placed out.

Dinner tasted better than usual. Vash had been right – ever since he had started working, they had easily been able to afford food. And she expected that she and Milly would get rather hefty checks with the reply to her report, as they hadn’t been paid in a while.

It wouldn’t be worth it though.

It was a strange meal. Knives was completely silent, with Milly and Meryl making nervous chatter and Vash acting a bit more bi-polar than usual. It was almost dull despite the manicness, but for the fringe of fear lacing everyone’s words.

No, it was tomorrow that things would get more interesting.
 
 

All of the sweaters but her own were done. She had picked up a bit of grey yarn to be able to finish it. Milly’s eyes, the priest’s eyes, her own eyes, and the color of blood.

She was uneasy.

Though Knives rarely spoke to her civilly, she was still accustomed to him demanding water or to be taken to the bathroom when those needs arose. Today he had been even more implacably somber than usual.

She paused in her knitting, barely three rows done, and raised her eyes to him. “Knives-san… are you all right?”

There was no response.

She tried again. “I hope you liked the meal last night. The soup was a little overcooked but–“

“Stop,” he commanded, his voice strangely fierce, still not looking at her.

She paused, her brows lowering her forehead into a frown. “Knives-san –“

“All you humans do is lie. Since the first one I ever met until now. You can’t even be truthful to yourselves.” She had the overwhelming sense that he was looking at her with something other than his ice-colored eyes.

“I’m… what do you mean?”

Now he turned, his face hard. “Even now a lie.” He shook his head, almost to himself. “No matter. If you want to delude yourself, I’ll just shatter it.”

The only rows she had done were red and grey. Her eyes and blood.

It was cold in the room. Only one sun had risen fully in the sky, the other a vague shadow on the horizon. She wanted to hug her arms around herself, but felt that she could not, as if doing so would break the spell Knives seemed to have placed on her.

“The reason you watch over me,” he murmured, but there was nothing soothing in his tone.

“I… Vash-san asked me to… so I-“

“Incorrect,” he interrupted abruptly. “You care for me because you are in love with my brother and want him to see you as a good person. You want to show him that you will endure anything for him, that you are strong and capable, yet feminine enough to warrant his attention.” He glanced to her knitting, then back to her. “You desire him, and seek to use me to get him.”

“That’s not true… I don’t…” she faltered, upset by his words, unable to come up with a response to his grim logic.

“What about it isn’t true?” he challenged. Was it getting colder in the room?

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. What about this man threw her off? Was it that he looked so much like Vash, and yet certainly wasn’t, or was it that he looked like Vash… and almost was?

“You are right. I love your brother.” Her head was bowed. Even if he was staring at her with those stark eyes, she did not have to look back. “But I take care of you because he asked me too.” She paused a moment, hands tightening around the needles. “I already told him my feelings. He’s smart enough to know the person I am. I don’t have to pretend.”

“And he hasn’t given you an answer, has he?” The tone of his voice made her look up.

“N-no… not yet,” she admitted. The second sun was becoming a firmer point in the sky.

“Do you know why? Do you know why he can’t love you?” Lips curled in the thin veneer of a smile to cover a smirk. “Because of her.”

He was taunting her. “He’s told me his past… That woman had a strong influence on his life. If he-“ She stopped, swallowing. Talking like this upset her. “If he chooses his past, then it’s not my place to judge. It’s his decision. I… I can wait.”

“With your pitiful human life span?” Another smirk, not so hidden this time. “What could you mean to either of us? Your life is barely a blink for us.”

He was voicing all of her fears, all at once. She was amazed she had managed to stay in control, though her voice was a bit tight. “I’ll wait as long as I can.”

He snorted derisively, but did not reply.

She would not cry in front of him. She would not let him win. She picked up the knitting needles again, and started a new row.

It was nearly ten minutes later that Knives chose to break the silence.

“Meryl.” Just that for a second, a breath, no honorifics attached. Her eyes jerked up to him, but he was staring at that spot in the ceiling. “Dinner was good last night.”

Something inside her broke at that moment. She stood, dropping the knitting from her lap, and fled the room to her own room, burying her face in the bed and bursting into stifled sobs.
 
 

The rest of the day she went through the motions of being completely normal. It wasn’t that she did it for the other three – they, of course, knew her well enough to see through it at this point – but it was for her. If she kept some semblance of being all right, of being in control, then she would be. And it would be all right.

It would be all right.

So what if he had said her name before his brother? It didn’t mean anything. It was just his way. Of course he wouldn’t use any honorifics. Humans were worse than garbage. So what if he had complimented the dinner? It was just his way of throwing her off-balance.

After she had managed to calm herself down, she had wandered to the kitchen to make some tea for them both, then brought it to him. He accepted it wordlessly, and she, silent as well, sat knitting her sweater. It was cold, so very cold, and she had to stay warm.

They both maintained the silence all day, like affronted schoolchildren, but it was a stiffer, more uneasy atmosphere. With children there would have been name-calling. Knives limited himself to that only when logic backed it up.

It was one of the longest days she ever had.

When Vash and Milly returned home that evening, carrying bags full of extra groceries, she smiled and put them away without any sort of argument or suspicion of where they might have obtained this food.

It was quiet after supper. Vash was in with his brother, and Milly had gone to bed early. Meryl, preparing herself for bed as well, had a desperate urge to press her ear against the door and listen to what they were saying. She restrained herself for a few moments before she decided to give into this vice.

“No, we were just discussing,” Knives’ voice drifted thickly through the wood. “I didn’t say anything bad to her.”

There was a long silence and Meryl suddenly wondered if she were caught already.

But then Vash sighed, a heavy, worn sigh. “She’s a good girl. She’s doing her best to help you get better. Even though she’s afraid of you.”

“With good reason,” interjected his brother haughtily.

“Then you should be even more grateful,” Vash said, a hint of anger in his tone. “Everyone’s doing their best to take care of you. You nearly killed both of them, repeatedly.”

She waited for the snort of disgust from Knives – but didn’t get it.

“I know,” he said instead, sounding a little annoyed. “But they’re useful. And you’re attached to them.”

The reply was fierce. “Yes, I am very attached to them. So you can’t hurt either of them.”

“I was going to let that woman live, but she chose differently.” A pause. “It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, Vash?”

Silence. Long, dreadful, heart-pounding silence. She wanted to back away from the door, but found herself unable to move.

“I think I’m going to get some coffee,” said Vash after a moment. “Do you want any?”

“I think I’ll sleep. I have a lot to do tomorrow.” Sarcasm at its best.

Now she did have to scramble, trying to sneak to the kitchen as quickly as possible without making a sound. She heard Vash’s footsteps toward the door, and the squeak of the hinges, and by that time, she was setting up the percolator on the stove, as if she had just come out of her room for a late night coffee run.

She felt his eyes on her first, but she didn’t look up. “You’re still up.” A hint of surprise.

The cups were in the cupboard, she remembered, because Milly had kindly done the dishes before going to bed. She pulled two out. “Yes. I was thirsty. Would you like some?”

He sat down at the table. She could still feel his gaze, as it if were penetrating her. “I would. Please.”

Though he had seen her in her nightgown before, this time she felt a little more naked. Why was he staring? Why didn’t he crack a joke to lighten the mood as he always did? Why was she so nervous? She poured a bit of coffee into each, making sure that no grounds had gotten in.

“It’s getting awfully cold at night,” he said quietly.

“It is,” she replied, turning and setting the cups on the table, then seating herself.

“Aren’t you cold?”

She looked up at him for the first time since he had entered the room and was not surprised to see the intensity in his eyes. She just wished she knew why it was there. “A bit. But I’ll crawl back into bed soon.” A small half-moon smile.

He nodded, eyes never leaving her, and there was silence for a moment as she sipped her warm drink.

“What did Knives say to you today?” he asked suddenly, not having touched his coffee.

She looked up again, surprised at the suddenness of his question. “Well…” She paused and flushed as the conversation came back to her. “Just… about how humans lie, I guess.” How ironic that she would lie now, to him, the “good” twin. Would he be able to tell?

“And what did you say?”

She was quiet, thinking a moment. She hadn’t actually said anything to that accusation. “I guess… I didn’t say anything either way.”

More silence. Her heart was thudding in her chest, rhythmically, insistently.

He dropped his gaze. She felt like a thousand burdens had been taken off her back. “I just want to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.”

Emotion pulled at her throat. This was the man she loved, saying he didn’t want her to be hurt. She wanted to throw her arms around him and hug him tightly, to press her face against her scarred chest and cry and cry and tell him everything, anything he wanted. Instead, she tightened her hand around her cup. “I think I'll be fine.”

“I do too, but I’m always worried. It’s hard being far away. If he does anything…” He stopped, shaking his head silently. “Just be careful.”

“I will be.” She tried to smile reassuringly at him. When that did not seem to assuage his fears, she stood. “Well, I’d better get to bed. It is late, after all.” She set the half-full cup on the side of the sink. She would heat it up tomorrow.

He nodded slowly, seeming to be lost in thought. She exited the room, glancing behind her once to see him stand and head back towards Knives’ room.

It was indeed a cold night.
 
 

“Why didn’t you tell him the truth last night?” Knives asked, his voice contrived to be toneless but for a hint of curiosity.

She glanced up at him. One sleeve done. Twelve more rows for the other. She kept track of the number of stitches she made. “Twenty-three, twenty-four… Because. I just wanted to prove you right.” She was feeling bristly. Poor sleep did that to her.

He was taken aback by this answer, but tried not to show it. “Humans,” he muttered, obviously disgusted.

But he still wanted attention. She was knitting and not giving enough to him. And she was starting to get annoyed.

“He knows you lied,” he said, sounding almost pleased now.

“That’s nice,” she murmured, returning to counting. This row seemed like it had a few stitches too many…

Knives was getting frustrated. She could hear it in his voice, but was too irritated to care. She had made so many stupid mistakes in just this one sleeve. Maybe she could just take a nap and leave this baby to take care of himself… But Vash probably wouldn’t like that. She sighed.

“I think I’ll use you to show him just how corrupt humans can be,” he tried again, bemused by this thought.

He was saved from being stabbed in the temple with a pair of knitting needles by a knock on the door. She rose to answer it, leaving Knives thwarted yet again.

He was, however, too full of hubris to call after her, but instead just sulked silently and waited for her return.

She did not expect either Milly or Vash to knock at the door, which meant that it was probably a stranger. Which meant it was probably the postman.

Which meant it was probably the letter from the Society.

She pinched her cheeks a little on the way to get a bit of color into them, praying the circles under her eyes did not make her look too raccoonish. Maybe it really was Vash or Milly, and they had just forgotten their key. Maybe it was the landlady to check on them.

But as she opened the door, she saw that it was indeed the postman.

He was a friendly gentleman, bordering on elderly, but still spry enough to make his daily routes with ease. She had seen him several times and had struck up conversation with him on more than one of these occasions, but she still did not know his name.

Though he, evidently, knew hers. “Good morning, Meryl-san, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

“No, not at all.” She smiled, though it was a bit forced. It wasn’t easy to forget you hadn’t slept.

“I’ve got…” Here he reached into his rather expansive sack and pulled out five or so letters. She had not expected so many, but Milly regularly received quite a bit of mail. It must have been sitting for a while, waiting to be directed to her new address. “…several for you today.” He handed them to her with a smile and a wave, then turned and vanished.

He had a wife and three grown children he was helping to support and could still smile at her so kindheartedly and freely.

She envied him.

Watching him walk away out of the corner of her eye, she sighed, then started to flip through the envelopes. Milly Thompson, Milly Thompson, Milly Thompson, Milly Thompson…

Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson.

A grim smile poured itself onto her lips, cold. It was here.

It was heavy. There were definitely checks in here then.

All she could think was how much Knives would rejoice.

She and Milly would have to go. Vash would stay here.

Or disappear.

He would disappear and she would never see him again.

She stepped back into the house and shut the door behind her, then leaned on it, seeking support. She would be alone again.

No, she would have Milly. Milly would always be there.

But Milly was still struggling to get over the death of the priest. She inhaled sharply. She herself was not being a very supportive friend through all this. But what could she do? Milly never needed her.

No, Vash had said that Milly needed her. And if Vash had said it, then it was true. Wasn’t it?

Wasn’t it?

She pressed the letter to her forehead, trying to hold back tears, clutching herself in desperation for something tangible. Vash would disappear. She would never see him again.

Slowly she slid down the door, her face pressed into her knees, the letters a heap on the floor beside her. When had this become more than a job? When had she decided that it was “all right” to fall in love with the most destructive man humankind had ever known? When had her work ever been acceptable this shoddily done, this poorly thought-through?

Why was she such a fool?

Of course Knives was right. Vash could never love her. She was a speck, a fly. He was a god. He was immortal, all-powerful, and immensely kind, the emotional god. Knives was his logical counterpoint.

How could she love a fly? They died so fast, were so noisy and disgusting.

How was she different than a fly to him?

It was cold. How could the desert be so cold? She held her knees tighter.

Surely Knives was wondering where she was at this point. It wasn’t like her to be so tardy.

She was useful to him, to them. She fixed their food, cleaned the house, made their clothes. Why? Why did they dally with her? Why didn’t they just destroy everything, everything filthy, and live together in their own perfection, together and happy and peaceful?

A sob seized her throat by the teeth. Why Vash? Why him? Why couldn’t he have been someone she hated, the merciless killer she had pictured at first?

Why had he never said her name?

“Damn you…” she choked into her tights, which were growing damp, “Vash the Stampede… you never… never…”

“Meryl?” The voice sounded almost concerned, floating down the hall from Knives’ room. “Where did you go?”

Concern? She almost laughed aloud bitterly. Gods have no care for flies. Flies had no souls; they were nothing but a fleeting annoyance.

The voice again, hesitant almost. “Meryl? Is that you?”

She had to go back to him. He would talk to Vash later and she didn’t want any questions. She cleared her throat, trying to rein her voice back to some semblance of calmness. “Just a minute… I’ll be there in a minute…” It would have to do.

With trembling limbs, she stood and picked up the letters. She moved slowly to Milly’s room and deposited the girl’s mail on her bed, then turned to the door of the room. She clung to the letter addressed to both of them, wanting to give into her temptation and read it, but unsure whether to do so without Milly or not.

A quick trip to the bathroom to try to dissuade the red in her eyes from making a permanent home there, and she was ready to go back to Knives, the letter still between her fingers.

She meandered into the room as if she hadn’t a care in the world, settling herself down in her chair, and picking up the needles. “Just the postman.”

It seemed like something about humans lying caught on his lips, but he swallowed the words as he saw her face, and frowned instead. For some reason this disturbed her more. He lay still, facing that point in the ceiling, always the same place, and she sat, knitting in relative silence. The letter rested at her feet, cold and uninviting.

With hard eyes and set features, she decided to wait for Milly. It was always easier, she reasoned darkly, to have someone’s shoulder to cry on. 
 
 

She lay prone on her bed, curled up into a fetal position. Soft male voices rose and fell in meaningless phrases in the room beside hers, and there were no sounds from Milly’s room. It was freezing, despite the fact she was under three blankets. Cold and alone and frozen.

So final, every word from the letter. So hard and final and firm and flat. It told things just the way they would be. She had no say in anything.

She would cope, she was sure. Hadn’t she coped with everything before? When she got home, her family would be there, and they would welcome her back with home-cooked meals and hugs. And she would still see Milly at work, so that would be all right.

The trick would be just to bury herself in work as soon as she could.

Milly had the right idea. The more you work, the less you think.

She couldn’t feel her nose.

Burying her head under the covers as well, she closed her eyes. The male voices were growing more intense and she could almost pick out individual words. So noisy… How was she supposed to sleep with that racket going on?

The chief hadn’t written the letter. If he had, it would have been filled with more personal touches, greetings, maybe a bit of extra change just for pudding for Milly. It must have been the district manager. They had gone high to discuss this…

The tones of the men had quieted down, seeming to have come to some sort of an agreement. It was funny. Whenever Vash was with his brother, he was the happiest and yet the saddest she had ever seen him. She almost understood. When she was with Vash, she was the happiest and the saddest she ever felt as well.

There was a quiet noise from Milly’s room, and then she saw the shadows in the hall of a light flickering on. Strange. Shouldn’t she be asleep? Shouldn’t they all be asleep? Why was she herself awake still anyway?

              To Miss Meryl Stryfe and Miss Milly Thompson:

                The Society commends your hard work thus far in this extremely
                sensitive case. We are always relieved to hear of your safety.
                Included with this letter are your paychecks and the hazard
                compensation as promised last time.

Cold, decidedly too cold. Had she left her window open? No, she hadn’t opened it for several days now. Milly was definitely crying in her room now, the quiet, stifled sobs painfully clear. She wanted to disappear.

Why was it so hard just to go to the girl and hug her? Why was she so afraid to say the wrong thing?

Why was she such a coward when Vash was so brave?

She slid out from under her covers, the bare floor on her feet making her shiver. Quickly, she pulled her mantle from the chair where she had draped it and pulled it over her shoulders, securing it.

              We have deliberated for a while on your current situation. Not
              wanting to detain you there any more, we came to a decision
              within the week your letter arrived. We as the Society have to
              come to an agreement about what you are to do.

She pulled open her door hesitantly. What if Milly didn’t want to be bothered? What if she wanted to be alone in this pain that was too private to imagine?

As she passed the door where the men were still talking, she paused a moment. The words were clearer here. “A week more,” said Knives lowly. “You know it too, brother.”

A soft acquiescence from Vash, and she hurried her steps away from the door. A week? And then?

She knocked lightly on Milly’s door, praying that she wasn’t being rude. She just wanted to help. She would give anything to heal her friend’s heart.

“It’s open.”

She wanted to turn away and flee. How could that be Milly? The voice was thick with tears and raw pain. Milly was so happy, so content, so carefree…

She pushed the door open slightly. “Milly, it’s just me… I’m sorry to bother you, but–”

“Sempai.”

She blinked as the light hit her eyes, unable to see her younger partner clearly for a moment. She stepped all the way in, then shut the door behind her, blinking at the brightness, then sat beside Milly on the bed. The girl was not meeting her eyes.

Meryl took a deep, shaky breath. Why was she so worried? Milly wouldn’t reject her. Milly was her friend. “You can talk to me if you want.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Milly buried her face in her hands, shaking with her tears. “Sempai, I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry…”

This left her little time to be puzzled. Almost shyly, she reached out and hugged her friend tightly. “You don’t have to be sorry, Milly. Just talk to me. I’m worried about you.” Surprising how easy it was once she got into the swing of things, but she felt like she was putting on an act. Was this what Vash did all the time?

She waited for a moment, just stroking Milly’s soft hair. She was so young. Why had she ever been given this difficult an assignment?

Milly sniffled, then pulled away, wiping a fist across her face. “Sempai, I know you must be upset about the letter today… so… you don’t need to worry about me…”

                  Your orders are as follows:

“No, I’m fine, Milly. Just tell me what’s wrong.” She reached out a hand and placed it on the girl’s arm, timid. Was her help being refused?

“It’s just… just…” The girl paused, choking back another sob, her breath shaky. “I feel… so…”

               You are

“You feel so what, Milly? I’m listening.”

                  to return

“Just… I’m so lonely here… When we were traveling with Vash-san and–” Here she choked, but forced it out. “And Wolfwood-san… we always had so much fun… and now…”

                  to December

She reached out and hugged her. “I’m sorry, Milly. I know it’s hard. You work all day and then just come home and eat and sleep, and then do it again.”

                  in three weeks time

Milly hugged her back. “I’m sorry to have woken you, sempai.” She clung to her older friend a moment, needing that support. “I guess… I guess I’m just happy that I’ll be able to go home soon… where things will be normal… and not hurt so much… but I know that you… and Vash-san… and that you’ll…”

               permanently.

Meryl forced a small smile. “You’ll make it, Milly. You’ve faced much worse before.”

Milly nodded, and then brushed her fingers across her cheeks again, trying to dry them. “I… I know, sempai.”

It seemed too easy. Was there really all there was to it? A hint of guilt caught at her throat. Why was she relieved about this, about the fact that Milly didn’t need her shoulder to cry onto as much as she would have needed Milly’s shoulder in the same situation?

Strangely enough, this same relief also came with a twinge of hurt.

The girl let out a slow, trembling breath. “You should go to sleep. Tomorrow you have a long day.” She cracked a smile, a shadow of her usual smiles. “I do too.”

Meryl stood slowly, her eyes not leaving her friend. But Milly gave her another shy smile, trying to reassure her. She returned it, then moved to the door, exiting like a silent wraith.

The covers were slightly warmer this time around, but she still wore her mantle to bed. She would have to finish her sweater tomorrow.

              We appreciate your cooperation in such matters and expect to
                 see you within the coming month.
 
 

She was going to die.

If the boredom didn’t get to her, his stubbornness would.

Today he had been more adamantly silent than usual, not bothering to answer anything she asked him. She was getting somewhat annoyed.

She didn’t understand at all. He had been growing much better; she hardly had to support him on the way to the bathroom anymore. But she didn’t feel as if these past few weeks had accomplished anything.

That, and her time was limited.

Three weeks, and then they were gone.

She folded her arms over her chest, feeling smaller than usual. If Knives showed no restraint in his dealings with humans, then how would Vash take care of him? Would he learn to behave in society?

And if he didn’t… what would she do about it?

She could kill him. It seemed easy enough, but then again, he wasn’t human. Maybe he really could dodge if she stuck a derringer to his temple and fired. It seemed unlikely.

Could she do it? Could she kill someone with the eyes of the man she loved?

Would she? It would drive Vash completely away from her. Maybe Milly as well. She wasn’t a killer.

But… could she let humanity be ravaged by a man like this?

No, not even a man. A plant. Humanity’s own creation rebelling against them.

It was an unfair decision to have to make. But maybe… maybe, he would learn…

“Water,” he demanded suddenly, voice dark.

Maybe not.

She stood slowly, watching him gaze at the ceiling. “Water and?”

Irritation. “Water please,” he said gruffly, not moving his eyes.

She nodded and went to get it from the kitchen.

As she filled the cup idly from the faucet, another thought crossed her mind. What if she just didn’t go home?

Orders were orders, but she could always quit. She could earn a living here, give in her notice by mail. It could work. It could work. She could stay with Vash.

And leave Milly.

Milly certainly wouldn’t want to quit. She loved her job. She missed her family very much and wanted to go back to them. She would return to December no matter what.

So it was her best friend or the man she loved.

She suddenly noticed that the water was overfilling the cup and spilling onto her fingers over the sides. Quickly she turned off the faucet and started meandering back to the bedroom.

No, this choice wasn’t hard. She could go with her best friend that she cared for very much, and who cared for her as well. Or she could stay with a man who simply tolerated her and nothing more.

Or was there something?

The door she pushed open with a gentle hand to find Knives gazing at her, brows lowered, but not in anger. She sat down and handed him the glass, curious, yet unafraid. He took it silently, raised himself slightly with his free hand, and took a sip. “Thank you.”

Hm, without any prompting. Maybe he really was learning.

“Did you need anything else?” she asked, her voice quiet in the stillness of the house. His eyes were still focused on her, penetrating her, seeing through her.

“No, I’m fine.” He set the glass down on the small table beside his bed.

“All right, I’m going to go cut the rest of the fabric for your brother’s pants in the other room. Call me if you need anything, all right?” She rose in order to leave, but something in his eyes stayed her for a moment.

“Meryl.” His voice was gentle, almost like Vash’s but for the slightly deeper pitch. She shivered.

“Yes?” It was slightly unreal.

He seemed about to say something, but then stopped, a dark look coming over his eyes, then leaned back down. His gaze turned away.

“Knives-san?” Had she done something wrong? Had she offended him, perhaps?

He didn’t reply, but she sat down again, determined to say something to fix this. She took a deep breath, trying to relax. She could do this.

“You know, when you were younger you must have been a really adorable kid,” she started, feeling shy and foolish. Where was she planning on going with this? “I bet you and Vash-san got into all sorts of trouble together.” She paused, smiling in spite of herself. What would Vash have been like as a child? But no, she was speaking to Knives. She had to give him her attention now. “You must have been very studious, weren’t you? Somehow I see you studying philosophy while Vash-san would scarf whatever food was in front of him.” Again she smiled, content.

“I was very studious too when I was younger,” she murmured. “I always did all of my homework and did the best on the tests. I think it was because I wanted the praise for being the smartest, the best. I was always so small, so I got picked on a lot, and I didn’t have any big brothers or sisters to take care of me the way Milly did…” She paused, looking down at her hands. “I didn’t cry, because that would have been weak. It would have meant I didn’t have control over the situation. I knew I really didn't, but I wanted that pretense. It made me feel safer.

“I think you must have been a lot like me,” she continued, not looking towards him at all. “It’s frustrating to be picked on and the littlest, so when you can do something, you do it the best you can so you won’t be at the bottom of the heap anymore.

“But he was more delicate than you, wasn’t he?” she continued, almost to herself now, then stopped. “No, he wasn’t more delicate,” she amended. “He turns things outside and cries, but you… you must have turned them inside.” A slow breath. “It was just that you wouldn’t show it. It must have been hard…”

Now she dared to raise her eyes. He was still looking away from her, toward the wall, but she felt somehow that he had heard every word she had spoken. She stood slowly, hesitantly, with a soft swish of cloth. “Knives-san, if you need me, I’ll be in the other room.”

He did not look towards her even as she exited.
 
 

He caught her the next morning a few minutes before he had to leave for work.

She stumbled into the kitchen, wondering why she was so tired, determined to make herself a cup of hot coffee. That dark, steaming liquid would wash the sleep from her eyes just as surely as a hot shower would. Yes. She would get coffee.

He was sitting at the table, a dark flash of red, drinking coffee himself, and snacking on what looked like toast. He smiled as she entered and gestured at a cup beside the stove.

She had to curb her suspicious tendencies immediately. Just because he was being nice didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted something.

The mug felt warm in her hand and she hesitantly took a sip, seating herself gingerly beside him at the table. “Good morning,” she murmured, her voice still thick.

He smiled again, not his bright, blinding smile, but the soft, gentle one he had so infrequently. “Good morning. I never thanked you for the sweater. It’s very warm.”

She smiled sleepily. That felt nice. “I’m glad it fits you.” And it did. She hadn’t realized exactly how slender he was until she had started making his clothes, but she had gotten his measurements correct enough. It looked good.

“And it’s soft too.” His smile turned a little impish as he took a bite of toast.

“Mm,” she replied, reveling in the burning heat of the coffee sliding against her throat. It was such a common flavor, yet strangely exotic at the same time. It held so many memories for her too, like her mother standing at the counter in the morning before classes, prattling about how schoolwork was important and necessary to have any future, and she would just breathe in the delicate aroma deeply, memorizing the room and her father at the table reading the newspaper, and her mother’s voice, demanding but loving. Was it really so long ago?

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said quietly, interrupting her nostalgia. He wasn’t meeting her eyes and the tone of his voice was dark and serious.

She turned to him, blinking a few times, trying not to yawn. “Yes?”

He was silent a long minute, thinking. “Knives… has he seemed… to be getting any better?”

“You mean in dealing with me?”

Another pause, then a short nod.

“I think so.” She took a sip of the coffee, savoring it. “He was very polite yesterday most of the day.”

Vash gave a soft sigh, then bit his toast, chewing thoughtfully. “What do you think I should do when you leave?”

A blush trembled its way onto her cheeks. “W-what?”

He gave her what looked like it was trying to be a curious glance. If they both knew what she wanted, why did he pretend?

Or was he like her in that the masks gave him a semblance of control?

“When you leave here… what do you think I should do with Knives?” He was serious again, and she was grateful. “I’m not sure if he’s lying to me about anything or not. I know it sounds strange, but I always used to be able to tell when he was up to something. Now… I think he’s walled that off from me.”

More coffee. Heat spiking down her throat. She shivered slightly. “I can’t tell you what to do.”

He made an unenthusiastic noise in response, not seeming to like that answer. Silence deadened the air.

It was slightly uncomfortable, but she was strangely happy. How often did she just get to be alone with him, to sit beside him in companionable silence? Bittersweet.

She turned her eyes to him, feeling after a moment like she needed to say something, to express anything, but her eyes caught sight of a blemish on his sweater.

“You have some lint,” she said, reaching out to his arm to pull it off. She had done far too good a job on this sweater to let him go out with it looking sloppy.

But he intercepted her, taking her hand into his much larger one. The blush surfaced again, tracing her cheekbones. “Vash-san?”

He brought his eyes done to hers, the sea meeting the moon. “I know it must be hard, but please… you’re doing a good job with him.”

He was holding her hand! She was going to die or explode or turn into a pile of goo at his feet or worse. She tried to stammer something out in reply to that, but found herself unable.

“Thank you for all your hard work.” His eyes were so sincere.

A breath, a moment, a day, a year, an eon passed, and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his. His hand was so warm, and there was something reassuring about the scar that crossed the top of it. This man tried his best to make everyone happy, to keep them all safe. This was the man she loved.

Maybe now would be the time to try again.

“Vash-san, I still–” she started nervously, but he cut her off.

“I know,” he murmured, not dropping his eyes. “I’m sorry, but… please. Just give me a little time.”

Exactly what she didn’t have.

She forced a smile and started to move away. But: “You’re still holding my hand, you idiot.”

He grinned sheepishly, and quickly let her go, standing abruptly. “Well. I probably ought to get off to work.” He cleared his dishes and set them on the counter, then started toward the door. “See you later!”

And he was gone.

She sat there a moment, a little forlorn, but glanced up to the door to the hallway when she heard a bit of giggling. “Milly?”

The girl stepped in, in her work clothes and ready to leave. “Sempai, he’s right. I think he just needs time.”

She sighed. This wasn’t what she wanted to hear. And she would have to discuss eavesdropping with the girl at some later date. Not that she herself was guiltless... “There’s not that much of it.”

“I know.” A smile broke into her face, like sun. “But I think he won’t need as much time for this as with his brother.” Her grin increased. “I wouldn’t worry, sempai. It’s to be expected after all. He ran from his brother for a hundred years. I think he likes playing hard to get.”

The smaller girl raised her eyes to her partner incredulously. Hard to get?

Milly giggled again. “Well, I don’t want to be late again, so I’ll see you tonight.”

A click of the door, and she was left alone again.
 
 

He was sitting up, leaning against the back of the bed when she entered.

"What's wrong with you?" His voice held a cross between curiosity and disgust at that curiosity.

She gave him a dark look and handed him a cup of coffee. "I thought you would have figured that out by now."

He accepted it, taking a long sip. "This is rather lukewarm."

"Tough."

Shrugging that off, he continued. "You're dismayed at the fact you have to go home in less than three weeks. And the prospect that you will never see my brother again bothers you a great deal." Satisfied, he took another sip.

She sighed, and folded her arms across her chest. "You seem pleased."

"I don't like to share."

"Ah."

He glanced at her out the of the corner of his eye, studying her small frame. She wasn't looking at him.

"What did he say to you this morning?"

"I thought you would have figured that out by now too."

"I have; I just wanted to hear it from your own lips."

She raised her gaze to him slowly. His eyes were a cross between glass and ice and sky. Cold.

"He asked what I thought he should do when we left for December. What he should do with you."

"And what did you say?"

She paused, gazing back at him, her eyes morose. "That I didn't know."

He was silent, his face flat, empty. Why was he still watching her? She felt strange. Her heart was thudding in her ears like a distant drum, beaten by someone with poor rhythm. Where was her world? Where was what she held onto, her base? Was she lost? His eyes were cold, but depthless. She was suffocating, drowning, but burning, burning somewhere inside, a place she couldn't name. She turned her eyes away.

She suddenly felt overwhelmed. How had she gotten here? What was she doing on this dying planet that was slowly being ravaged by the heat of the suns, taking care of a man who wasn’t even human, a man who would kill her as easily as drink a glass of water?

But… he hadn’t yet.

Would she be sad to leave him? Would she be sad to leave Vash? Did it matter? She was a piece of dust thrown into the wind.

But, she reminded herself, even a piece of dust can get someone’s eye.

His voice was softer than she had ever heard him speak, frighteningly gentle. “What did you want to do with me then?”

She closed her eyes, shutting out his frozen eyes for the moment. “I suppose that depends on you.”

“You want to know if I’ll be able to live with humans.”

She did not even answer, and she herself was not even sure whether it was in deference or defiance to his logic.

He was silent for a long time, almost uncomfortably so. She opened her eyes again, wary. What was he doing?

He was still watching her, a pensive expression creasing his lips and brow. Strange, she hadn’t noticed until now that his hair had grown a little in the interim he had been here. It still wasn’t as long as Vash’s when it was down, but it gave an eerie image of Vash’s face ghosting over his own.

She replied softly, dignified, praying that the day would not continue in such a manner. “I do hope that you would be able to live with humans. Not necessarily as your brother does, but in relative peace.”

He broke their gaze like an icicle shatters. She shivered. “I see,” he murmured, leaning back onto the bed.

And that was all.

The rest of the week was relatively void of conversation, both between herself, and Vash or Knives. Milly, excited to be going home, was already packing as much as she could. The landlady they informed that at least the two girls were leaving, and she gave them a knowing smile.

She herself packed a few things halfheartedly. The concept of leaving bothered her, even leaving Knives. Maybe she really had made some progress with him. She had stopped hearing that humans were worse than insects every few minutes, and he had actually carried on several polite conversations with her that did not involve simply food or toiletries.

She would be very lonely again.

Oh, she had had friends back home before this assignment, but it had been much more superficial than this. How could she ever explain to one of them what she had been through, what Vash the Stampede was really like? They would laugh at her, or just not believe her.

She could never replace Vash. Ever. When she left, there would be a big hole where he had used to fit, a place that no one else could ever fill. She’d have Milly, for whom she was very grateful… but it was different.

She needed Vash. She loved him.

Resigning was seeming like a better and better idea. Even if it meant leaving Milly, she needed Vash more than she needed her friend. Right?

It seemed an unfair situation.

With two more weeks left to stay, Knives decided to start conversing with her again.

And then he demanded to be let out to walk around in the town.
 
 

Morning crept over the horizon like a thief, leaning into the ground spiderlike. She watched out the window, hands holding a steaming mug, clad in warm pajamas and slippers, with her sweater on top. Were she to go outside, the air would cloud her breath.

The sky was always so lovely. It could be all the colors in the world rolled into a quilt over the earth, a stained glass heaven.

He came from behind, but did not startle her. Each of his footsteps were quiet, softened by socks. He stood a bit away from her, close enough so that he could see out the window, but far enough away to leave her her personal space.

She granted herself another moment of respite, before turning and facing him, trying to smile brightly.

He smiled slightly back, looking at her, straight at her, only her. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Vash-san,” she replied, calmer than she had been for a while. “Would you like some coffee?”

“If it isn’t too much trouble.”

She moved to the stove where the percolator perched, a gleam of silver in the duskiness of the room. Procuring a mug from the cupboard, she poured the dark liquid into it, then set it back down gently. Assuredly the other two would want some later. No use letting it get cold.

She handed it to him, and he accepted graciously, smiling, his eyes aqua points, bright, warm.

Somehow the silence between the two as she rejoined him at the window to watch the sky was comforting. Beside how many people could she stand and feel soothed by the lack of words rather than have a desperate need to fill the void with sound?

She could hear his soft breath behind her, reassuring. There was something intrinsically safe in the breathing of a loved one. He sipped the coffee a few times, and she could almost imagine she could feel the air from his lips, warm, on the back of her neck. Silly fantasies, but everyone needs to indulge once in a while, she reminded herself. The sky was growing brighter, slowly, painstakingly climbing away from darkness.

It was after a long moment that she spoke. “Vash-san.”

“Yes?” It was strange, hearing his voice come from over her shoulder, gentle.

Another moment of warming quiet. She turned slowly so that she could look at him. Next to him she felt so small, so insignificant… Yet still he stayed.

Her voice was quiet when she spoke again. “The plants… why do the plants help people? Is it because they have no free will?”

He watched her for a moment, the darkness of the room casting shadows on his face. His expression did not flicker even for a moment. “No.” Slowly, gently, he reached out a hand, touching her cheek lightly. “It’s because we want to help people.”

She had the horrible sensation that she was about to wake up. This couldn’t be real. It was too close to what she wanted.

He smiled slightly at her surprise, almost ruefully, and looked like he was about to say something.

“Meryl! Are you in the kitchen?”

Ah. Yes. It was too good to last.

She pulled away from him, giving him an apologetic smile, then moved toward the hallway. “Did you want something, Knives-san?”

There was a click of the door and she turned. Vash was gone.

No, she told herself firmly. She would not resent Knives for his interruption. Of course he would be up early. Today was the day she had promised to take him into town.

He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his tall form clothed in some of Vash’s nicer clothes. He was not standing awkwardly at all, but with his arms folded comfortably across his chest. It was hard to believe that this wasn’t his brother standing there, but the expression on his face, frozen, made it clear that it was Knives.

If he had any lingering weaknesses, he certainly wasn’t showing it. She smiled uncertainly at him.

“I want to eat, and then I want to go to town,” he said firmly, demandingly, his eyes never leaving her.

She gave him a somewhat dark look.

He was annoyed. “Please.”

“All right,” she said, turning and going back into the kitchen. “What do you want to eat?”

He followed her, arms still folded, and seated himself regally in the rickety chair nearest the stove. “Eggs and coffee and toast.”

“Please.”

“Please,” he muttered obediently.

She felt like she was training a puppy, and was wondering why he was letting her get away with that. Quickly she grabbed a few eggs and cracked them into a pan she procured from the cabinets. The coffee was still warm so while the eggs cooked, she got a cup and poured him some, handing it to him.

“Thank you,” he replied as he took it.

It seemed as if he really wanted to go into town, for he was on what she would consider his best behavior. She was uneasy at the concept that Vash had actually gone to work instead of coming with them, but she would have to trust his judgment. If Knives decided to kill her along with the town today… well, then at least she wouldn’t have to decide between staying with Vash or leaving with Milly.

“What do you want to do in town today?” she asked him, trying to make conversation in the chilly gloom of the morning air. Surprisingly, he was amenable to this.

“I want to see it. And to purchase some clothes of my own. And to buy my brother doughnuts.”

She hid a smile. That was sweet! He really did love his twin, despite everything. But… what a poor choice it had been to show his feelings by killing everyone else around his brother.

It sort of reminded her of a story that she had heard once about a man who had loved a girl so much and was jealous of anyone that she saw other than him that he eventually killed her. Would that have been next? Would Knives have killed his brother simply to possess him?

It was a distinct possibility.

“Knives-san,” she started, wondering if she should continue at all.

He glanced up at her, his eyes, as they always did, seeing her more as a thing than a person. “Yes?”

“About your brother…” She paused, unsure where to go, a frown creasing her face. But the eggs were ready, so she scooped them out onto a plate and set them in front of him, then started his toast. He began on the eggs.

It was a minute until the toast was done. She placed that in front of him as well and then sat across from him. “I don’t understand why you wanted to hurt your brother.”

There. It was out.

He continued eating, without even breaking pace. She sat, staring at her hands, feeling not only like a fool, but uncomfortable to the point of nervousness. She was praying this wasn’t a prelude to any destructive tendencies to which he was so prone.

His fork clinked onto his plate, finished with the food, and he raised his eyes. “I did not seek to hurt him at all. I sought to show him the truth.”

She frowned faintly, then looked up at him. “That humans are evil?”

“Evil does not play a part in it. It is simply the truth that humans are parasites and destroy whatever world they live on. They deliberately hurt each other out of greed. I wanted my brother to understand that he sought to live among people that should have died instead of polluting everything. They were weak, pitiful, and disgusting. We are pure, powerful.” He paused, returning his gaze to her instead of the past. “I loved him very much. I did not want him to be hurt.”

Her eyes were blazing. “Didn’t you realize he cared for all those people that you killed?”

“Of course I did.”

“Then why?” Her voice was growing a bit more shrill and she tried to calm herself down.

“Because I wanted him to return to me. To agree to make this place our own paradise.”

She took a deep breath, calming herself. “Killing off the competition.”

“In essence, I suppose. Though it never should have been that way.”

She looked away, breaking eye contact. “Didn’t you think he’d be more scarred by your actions than anything we humans could have done to him?”

“Of course not. He has always known I love him.”

It was so frank, so honest, so truthful. Wasn’t there any compassion in this man? She sighed softly, wondering what sin she had committed in a past life to have been stuck with him. “I don’t understand you at all, Knives-san.”

He smiled slightly. It was strange – neither maniacal or angry, just a smile, almost helpless. “Neither do I understand you, Meryl.”

It was in this subdued, frustrated manner, that their trip into town began.
 
 

“This is your last set, right?” she called into the dressing room. She had never known a man who was such a perfectionist about his appearance. No, that shirt was out of the question; it was too baggy. Those pants were slightly too tight. And those shoes? Someone would actually wear those? He was more finicky than a woman.

“If they fit,” he replied through the curtain, almost haughtily. She let the smile slide onto her lips; he couldn’t see her, after all, so she could allow herself to this once.

“You didn’t put away the others, did you? I liked those.”

“No, of course not. I’m holding them in my arms right now.” He was paranoid too. There were many people out today, but so far, it had been uneventful.

“Good.” He had also been very obedient today as well.

She sat down in the chair, usually reserved for husbands, outside the fitting room. “Just show me when you’re ready.”

A few moments later, frowning, he stalked out from behind the curtain. “This makes me look fat,” he declared, a decidedly annoyed look on his face.

She peered at it, trying to maintain a very serious face. “It really doesn’t. The blue looks nice. But the shirt does fit better than the pants.”

He did not answer. He simply glared and stalked back into the fitting room. There were a few moments of rustling clothes, then: “Bring me that pair of pants by the door.” A pause. “Please.”

“Which one?” she asked, standing again. There were a total of 6 doors in this one room, each of which had men’s pants by them.

The curtain swished, and stark naked, he walked nonchalantly towards what he had meant.

Her face erupted into flame, and she buried her eyes into the clothing she had in her hands. She could hear him walking back towards the dressing room, toward her.

And then he stopped. In front of her.

His tone was partly curious and partly amused. “What’s wrong?”

She prayed to every god she knew that there was no one else in the store. “Ge-get back in that room! Put your clothes on!” She was still averting her eyes.

There was another pause for a second, in which neither of them moved.

“Why?”

“Because… because you’re naked!” she sputtered, trying to yell at him without looking at him.

Silence.

“But you’ve already seen me naked.”

Which was true. She had to wash him and clean him when he was unconscious. “That was different!!”

“How so?”

“I’ll… talk about it later!! Just get some clothes on!”

After a moment, she heard his steps away and the swish of the curtain. She breathed a small sigh of relief and opened one eye, peering around the store. Well. If there had been anyone here, they had certainly fled when the tall man had exited the fitting room.

But… she had seen him naked. Like a man, not a baby. A furious blush rose to her cheeks. That’s what Vash would look like, minus all his scars.

The curtain rustled again, and he stepped out, looking as unperturbed as ever. She would not meet his eye. “Are we ready?”

“I believe so, if you have those clothes I wanted.”

She nodded and scurried towards the first room in the shop where the clerk would be waiting. Of course he had picked out the most expensive clothes, and she would have to put some on credit, but that was a price she was willing to pay to keep him from wandering around the streets naked.

She would not look at him. They went to a small café, ordered drinks and sandwiches, and still she would not look at him. Her cheeks stayed a deep pink. How could she be thinking like that about Vash at a time like this? Or his brother? She needed to have all her wits about her today!

“You’ve been silent an awfully long time,” he said, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes. “Unusual.”

She wanted to glare, but restrained herself. “It’s nothing.”

“Did I upset you so badly?” Ah, yes, now there was an open smirk on his face. “You humans are a bizarre breed. Nakedness in private is fine, but nakedness in the open is not? Especially me being such a rare specimen. You would think the town would flock to see.”

Was he joking? Now she raised incredulous eyes to him. “What?”

“If my body were ugly, I could understand,” he said, patronizing, “but it’s really the best around. My brother would be just as nice had you humans not scarred it so badly.” His face darkened somewhat, but the smirk remained.

The waiter brought their food, and he, seeming pleased, finished all of his. She picked at hers.

“You’re going to eat that, right?” he asked, watching her.

“I’ll take it home.” A pause, searching desperately for some sort of calm. “I won’t waste it.”

He leaned back in his seat, stretching, and then yawned. Funny, when he wasn’t threatening everyone’s lives, he seemed actually rather pleasant. Almost.

Which was a dangerous thought. No matter how pleasant he seemed, he had killed thousands. Maybe millions, if you counted the Great Fall.

“Shall we get doughnuts for my ill-famed brother now?” he asked, a little smile forming at the corner of his lips as he noted her studious look.

“That sounds good,” she agreed, standing. She paid the bill with little fanfare, and they headed down the streets toward the bakery in the center of the small town. She counted the change in her pocket. There should be enough for a dozen or so. Of course, that dozen would last for all of two minutes. If they were lucky.

He was moving gracefully, like a dancer almost, each step placed deliberately and smoothly. Yes. It was the same way Vash walked.

It was good to know he had healed – if not completely, then completely enough – but in the same strain it could prove very troubling. He was well-mannered enough now, but there did not seem to be a concrete reason for this behavior. At any moment, couldn’t he destroy the town as easily as take a breath? She paused to consider this briefly.

He stopped and turned into the bakery, disappearing from her view for a moment. With a sharp intake of breath, she hurried after him. He could be causing all sorts of havoc there by himself. She had to be careful!

She stopped short when she saw him chatting cheerfully with a round man behind the counter, the owner of the shop. There was no blood. No screaming masses. No mounds of bodies.

“And this is my friend Meryl,” she heard the blond man say, smiling and gesturing towards her. Hesitantly, she stepped forward, feeling awkward and out of place.

“Hello,” she started, but the rotund baker had already started talking.

“You folks are great for my business! Why, this brother of his is in here almost every day! I can almost afford that extra shed out in the back if things keep up this way.” His face was wide and red, a broad nose splattered in the center. He was round and short, like a barrel, but still taller than Meryl.

She dug in her pocket, pulling out the change. “How many can this buy us?” she asked, almost shy.

Knives was still smiling, almost beaming, cheerfully at her. It was eerie.

“A baker’s dozen,” he said, giving her a wink. This man was almost more frightening than Knives. Surely this friendliness couldn’t be real…

She dropped the money into his outstretched hand, and he placed it in his pocket, then procured a box. “What kind?”

A glance up to Knives, who decided to answer. “All different please.”

“Hm, that’s what your brother always says,” the man chuckled, but what exactly amused him was a mystery to her.

It took a few moments, but he finally set the box down on the counter in front of Knives. “Tell him I said hello, even though I’ll probably see him tonight anyway.” Another unnervingly wide grin. “Thank you and have a good night!”

“You too,” Meryl echoed vaguely, moving as quickly as possible without seeming rude towards the door.

Knives followed, carrying the box carefully. It wouldn’t do to drop these.

She led him in a brisk walk back to the house, she carrying his clothes, and he the doughnuts. Both were silent. began.
 
 

The discarded doughnut box lay on its side, crumbs all but gone, empty of anything but memories of sweetness. She yawned and picked it up, tossing it into the trash. Vash and Milly had been so happy. Strangely, Knives had seemed very pleased that they had reacted so well to his gift.

She moved to the sink and washed her hands. Vash had been very normal towards her when they had come home. She wondered idly how she would have reacted if he had behaved differently. What if he had ignored her? Or, even stranger, had lavished attention on her? The second might have been worse.

But there had been no denying that he had smiled at her tonight more than ever.

Maybe it was his eyes. She couldn’t remember having seen that sort of thoughtful gentleness directed more especially towards her, rather than the human race. Maybe it was the fact that he let his hand linger over hers for a fraction of a second longer than necessary when they had both reached for the same doughnut. Maybe it was the fact that he chose to sit near her, as opposed to near his brother.

She was giddy with delight.

She turned off the water, and then started towards her room, when she saw the door to the room Vash and Knives shared was ajar. Were they still awake? If so, she would say good night.

The room was dark, but light from three moons filtered in through the open window. Shadows flitted and danced. It took her eyes a minute to focus.

There were two bodies in the bed, both of them. It didn’t surprise her. They were, after all, twins. After being reunited, it would make sense. They had shared everything in the beginning. It must have been lonely not to.

What surprised her most was how they were positioned.

Vash had curled into his brother’s chest, almost like a child, hair flopping gently down over his face, obscuring his eyes. Knives had his arms wrapped protectively around his brother, as if his mere presence would frighten away any emotional pain that anyone would cause his sibling. It was sad and sweet and sobering.

How she wanted to be putting her arms around Vash like that.

It surprised her also that it was not the other way around. Hadn’t Vash rescued Knives from his life of empty hatred? Shouldn’t Vash be protecting him?

Yet… Knives had wanted, all this time, just for his brother to come back to him. Hadn’t he? It almost seemed too simple, but it seemed also the only explanation possible.

A soft noise startled her from her intense reverie. She shifted slightly so she was out of view. A frown flickered across her lips. Had that been Vash?

She heard shifting in the bed and was glad she had moved. Again, Vash’s voice. Soft, desperate. Pitiful. “Rem…”

“Ssh, Vash, it’s all right.” Knives’ voice, comforting. It sounded strange to her ears. Shouldn’t he be laughing and killing?

She had a sudden image of Milly screaming when she found out about the priest, and she shut her eyes to make it disappear. It staunchly refused.

Hadn’t he been the one to kill Rem? Or at least try. Hadn’t he killed millions of other humans?

Hadn’t he been the one to destroy Milly’s heart when she saw all the blood? The girl’s hope for a future with the priest?

Hadn’t Meryl been worthless and too helpless to do anything?

“Vash, don’t cry.” That sweet, warm voice again. It was like hearing an echo of Vash’s voice, but darker, deeper. “It’s all right. I’m here.”

A bit more rustling of the bed covers, and soft crying. She dared a peek in.

Vash was clinging to his brother for dear life, his face buried in his shoulder. Knives was wearing a set of pajamas he had picked out that day, which struck her as almost funny. He was stroking his brother’s back lightly, with a tenderness she had rarely seen in anyone, let alone a ruthless killer.

It startled her, these sudden revelations. She had always known that he had killed so many, but seeing him in such a position, juxtaposed from even two months ago… She had finally realized what it meant, that he had killed the priest.

She realized what it meant that he viewed humanity as worthless.

God. She pressed a trembling hand to her forehead. What was she doing? She was harboring – no, not even that – she was caring for the largest mass murderer in the history if the human race. She had taken him into town, bought him clothes, fed him, sheltered him. He should be dead. She should have killed him.

A sob tore silently at her throat. She couldn’t lose Vash. She couldn’t. She loved him too much, and now, when it seemed like he was finally starting to respond to her love, she couldn’t betray him. She couldn’t.

But she couldn’t betray humanity.

She took a deep slow breath, trying to calm herself. She would have to talk to Vash about this. She would have to tell him everything.

But she knew what he would say. Everyone should get another chance. He had killed a man, but he  could start over.

Knives’ ticket to the future was blank too.

And she would want to scream that he had murdered millions of people, and cry and scream and cry, frustrated and useless.

Taking another deep breath, careful to make no sound, she hesitantly peered around the door again. Knives was still murmuring inanities. “It’s all right, I’m here. I won’t leave.”

Vash, for his part, was nearly asleep again, in his brother’s warm arms, curled up against him.

She must have made some sort of sound. Maybe the floor creaked. Maybe her breath was just a little too loud, though she couldn’t hear it herself. Maybe the powers of a plant were just beyond what she could imagine, and they had both known she was there the entire time.

Cold blue looked up to her suddenly, contrasting sharply with the darkness. She took a step back, startled, gazing back at him like a frightened animal.

And then fled to her room, shutting and locking the door tightly behind her.

As if it might have made a difference.
 

The sun was insistent the next morning, but she was determined. The blankets she pulled over her head, hiding. After last night, she didn’t want to see anyone. Well… Milly would be all right.

But what was she supposed to say to Knives?

She had a few scenarios in her mind. Either she would not say anything about it and he would refuse to mention it, and it would just disappear, or he would interrogate her like he had in the past.

Or he’d just kill her. Maybe that was the simplest solution.

Blankets. Bed. Warm. Comfortable. She would not leave. She would stay here in this nice ball of blanket and sheet and warmth and just never leave. Yes. That sounded a bit better than being killed.

But of course not.

A gentle knock on the door made her poke her head out into the bright sunlight. “Yes?”

Vash’s cheery voice. “I made breakfast. If you don’t hurry, it’ll get cold.”

She debated for a moment whether she should lie and say she was not feeling well, or whether she should just go out and suffer silently the evil looks she expected from Knives.

She must have waited too long to make her decision, because he called in again. “Are you still there?”

The warm bed she would mourn for during breakfast. “Yes, I’ll be there in a moment.”

Once the initial process of vacating the bed was accomplished, the next step was easy: finding warm clothes and putting them on as soon as humanly possible.

She made a mental note to herself to buy some new clothes; these were getting a little ragged around the edges. Maybe a nice pair of slacks and a blouse. That might work well. Practical, yet dressy enough to be able to pull off eating at a nice restaurant somewhere. Not that that scenario was likely, but it was always a consideration.

Pulling her shirt over her head, she suddenly had a thought and laughed quietly. She and Vash on a date? In an expensive restaurant? He would order a salmon sandwich or something equally tacky, and she would be stuck looking like a fool for ordering white zinfandel while her date downed pitchers of cheap beer. No, a date with Vash would be a dangerous situation.

Yet, a date with Knives, she mulled, tucking in the shirt to her skirt, would be much more proper. He would order for the lady, of course exactly what she wanted, and not hesitate to pay for all of it. Vash would almost certainly try to skip out on paying. He was a nice man, surely, but a little air-headed at times. Yet… wasn’t that strangely endearing about him?

She decided to wrap her robe around her as well. It was chilly enough to warrant that. Running a hand through her hair, she decided she also needed a haircut. It was so much more practical to have short hair, especially when hers tangled when it was long. Miraculously, Milly’s almost never seemed to have that problem. She envied the taller girl for that.

The table was crowded when she arrived, with the only seat open for her between Milly and Vash.

Leaving her sitting directly across from Knives.

She gave everyone a smile she deemed appropriately cheery, and stayed rather silent as Milly and Vash chattered happily about work, the food, or whatever else came to their minds. Her eyes she kept to her plate.

She could feel chilly blue focused on the top of her head. It was unnerving. Every time she dared a peek up, Knives’ eyes were elsewhere, usually watching his brother’s smiling face. What was he thinking about? Her? Maybe how best to kill her slowly?

“So you slept well last night, didn’t you, Meryl?”

Ah, her bed. How sweet and warm it had been.

She forced her eyes up, smiling blithely at Knives, the perpetrator of the question. “Of course. It was more mild last night than recently.”

Milly blinked, watching them, a small frown creasing her forehead. Vash’s face blared his goofy smile.

“That’s excellent.” And there it ended. He returned to his breakfast, and she, a little surprised and relieved, returned her eyes to her plate.

Vash, hesitant, cleared his throat. “Well… I think Milly and I should be getting to work soon.”

There was a prolonged moment of silence until Milly picked up his cue. “Er… yes! Sempai, we’ll see you later.” Hurriedly, the tall girl rose to collect the empty dishes. Hers and Vash’s food had disappeared almost right away.

Milly scampered toward the door, murmuring something about work gloves, and Vash stood slowly, looking between his brother and Meryl. She could feel his eyes, confused. What could she say?

“Have a pleasant day at work, brother,” Knives said smoothly, trampling over whatever she could have said to assuage his unease. “We’ll do the dishes while you are away.”

Slowly she raised her eyes, not looking into his aqua ones, but merely to his shoulders. “You’ll have supper waiting for you too,” she ventured shyly.

She felt his hand gently brush her shoulder, and, startled, she looked up, eyes wide. He was smiling. Gently, sweetly. Smiling. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

And then, somehow, he was gone, and she was dizzy with pleasure.

Knives cleared his throat as his brother had done earlier, as Milly rattled out the door after Vash. “Vash-san, wait for me!”

She was a bubble, floating above the world, gliding up into the heavens without a care in the world.

He was looking forward to it!

She would have to make the best supper she could tonight then. That meant a trip to the grocery store. She wouldn’t give him anything but the freshest vegetables. Yes. And maybe steak. With beans. Yes, that sounded good. And… potatoes? No. Rolls? No. Something else…?

Knives stood abruptly and she became aware of the kitchen table, the chilly morning smell of the air, the lingering scents of egg and bacon, the dusky odor of wood smoke, the taste of her coffee still on her tongue…

And the dark look in the blond man’s eyes.

“I would like to cut my hair today,” he said coolly. He was not averting his gaze at all.

He was angry then about last night? That would make sense. She had interrupted in a very sensitive and private part of his life: his relationship with his brother. She would have to bring that up today and try to fix it. No sense in her going back to December with him being angry at her.

She had hardly any time left.

Squelching that thought with a firm fist, she stood as well. “All right. Would you like to go into town or would you like me to do it?”

“I will do it myself.”

Hmm. “Yourself?” It didn’t seem as if he were trying to be difficult.

“I always have before. It doesn’t need to change now.”

“Oh. Well. I have scissors in with my sewing things…” She stood, smiled hesitantly, and disappeared into her bedroom.

She fumbled around in her sewing supplies, pushing aside thread and cloth to find the scissors. She had put them back, hadn’t she? Red, blue, no, that wasn’t it, and then – aha! Her hands closed on something cold and metal and she lifted the scissors triumphantly.

What in the world was she going to say to him? How would she explain herself?

Well, she decided firmly, trying to keep dark thoughts out of her mind, it wouldn’t matter in the long run, would it?

He was standing at the window when she returned to the kitchen, frozen eyes gazing at the equally blue sky, but did not stir when she entered.

“I… have the scissors,” she offered tentatively.

“Leave them on the table please.”

She set them down, but didn’t go anywhere. A sudden thought occurred to her.

She was always afraid of him, yet he never seemed to feel afraid of her. Of course, he was ridiculously more powerful than she could even imagine, but it still didn’t seem fair.

The question was how to gain that leverage over him. She didn’t want to hurt him; she simply wanted not to fear for her life on a consistent basis.

Although, she argued frantically with herself, if she did by some insane means have something that would make him feel something besides disdain and contempt for her, wouldn’t he just kill her faster?

An image of her mother flashed before her eyes, brief and ghostlike. “Everyone dies in the end, Meryl. It just depends on what you do while you’re alive.”

“Are you still here?” he queried, still not looking her way. It wasn’t really a question, despite its phrasing.

Sudden inspiration made her take a step forward, pushing her between the shoulder blades. “I think I understand.”

Still no reaction, but she was sure he was puzzled.

“Why you were going to let her live. That woman that your brother loved.”

Now his eyes flickered toward her, darker than she had ever seen them.

She was scrabbling toward insanity with her fingernails. “I mean it. I understand why.”

“You understand nothing.”

He had not used that tone of voice with her since he had first awoken, and it startled her, but something drove her forward. She was a proverbial lemming heading toward her own personal cliff.

“You were going to let her live…”

He took a step closer, brows drawn together, shoulders tense.

“Because you loved her.”

He did not move. No reaction.

Nothing.

For a moment, she despaired and quailed beneath his gaze. Had she been wrong?

He seemed to slip a mask over his face, a false calmness that gave him a sense of veiled unreality. “I did no such thing.”

No, she had been right. Allowing herself an inward gleam of pride, she took a step forward. “Love is nothing to be ashamed of, Knives.”

There was a dreadful gap in the conversation as he just stared at her, penetrating. “Humans are something to be ashamed of, Meryl.”

“Humans created plants.”

“Accidents happen.”

She was taken aback at that. “What?”

A withering gaze. “Humans did not plan my life. In every facet of it, I have been in control. I do it all, Meryl, not some petty human.”

She almost sputtered a laugh. “You think you had control over your birth? Over where and when you were born? Over who happened to be your twin?” A cold pause. “Over your mother?”

“She was not my mother.”

“But you loved her.”

A crack appeared in the façade. “I did not love her.” His eyes were dark again.

Maybe if she softened her approach it would work. A deep slow breath. “Knives-san, I know you loved her, and not even your perfect logic can refute this.”

His eyes narrowed. An alarm screamed desperately in her mind, but she continued, trying not to stumble over her words.

She took another step forward, trying to look comforting. “You love Vash, I know. More than anyone I’ve ever seen.” Maybe that was a lie, but hopefully it would pan out. “And you’ve struggled all these years for a place for the two of you – just the two of  you – to share. A place where you could have all of his attention and love and affection, just as you wanted to give it all to him.”

Another pause, but brief. His eyes were chilly and emotionless, the mask again drawn tightly over his features as he listened.

“But you were willing to let her live.” She had to force herself to keep going. She wasn’t a believer in vibes, but he was certainly sending out unfriendly signals. “You were willing to share Vash’s love and affection with her. Because you loved her. I understand now.”

He gazed at her, something akin to pain lingering across his face. Dead air stretched for an eternity, a million lifetimes.

And he spoke.

“You understand nothing.”

And then he picked up the scissors from the table and walked right by her, going to his room.

And then he shut the door.
 

She hadn’t meant to overhear. It was just that she was sitting outside, watching the stars, and their voices had drifted in such a way that she couldn’t help it.

At least that’s how she rationalized it to herself.

Knives had refused to come out of the room, even unswayed by his brother’s gentle pleading. Milly had offered to take him supper when the other three had finished. Rather than be witness to her friend’s failure, Meryl had slipped outside, weary and sick of worry, the ache of loneliness very much present in her throat.

“Knives-san…”

“Please leave.”

Milly’s voice was through Knives’ door, but it was still painfully clear out here. Every word, every intonation. Were the walls made of glass? Or just paper? 

“Knives-san, you have to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not an option. Now, you can let me in peacefully, or I can come in myself.”

Ah, there was certainly no stopping Milly when she was on a quest of righteousness.

There was a long drawn-out silence, and then Milly cleared her throat. “Knives-san, I’m going to count to ten. By ten, this door had better be unlocked. I’m starting now. One… two…”

Outside, Meryl shifted slightly. Trust Milly to be so forthright.

“Three… four… five…”

A scraping of a chair inside.

“Six… seven… Oh, that’s better.” The door creaked open, and now Meryl could hear both voices. “Here. Sempai worked hard all afternoon on this food, so you’d better eat it. It’s really good too. I wish I could cook as well as her.”

“I’m still not hungry.”

A soft noise, like setting a tray down on the table. “Not feeling well? I brought you some tea just in case. Here. Just try it.”

A obedient sip.

“There, that’s good. Doesn’t it taste delicious? It’s my favorite kind.”

There was a bit of a pause, almost uncomfortable it seemed.

Again, Milly chose to break it. “Knives-san… I know I don’t know you very well, and it’s probably none of my business, and my oldest sister always told me to mind my own business, but she also always told me to help my friends when they were in trouble, and well, maybe you don’t think of me as a friend, but I think of Vash-san as friend, which means I should probably help you because you’re his brother.”

It was logical, from Milly’s point of view, Meryl noted, a small smile nestling into her lips.

“So I want to find out what’s wrong. Did you and sempai have a fight?”

“No.” She could hear him picking up a fork as it rattled against the plate. The lesser of two evils? Perhaps he thought that if he satisfied Milly’s desire for him to eat then she would let him be.

“Then why are you angry at her?”

“I’m not angry.”

Of course not, retorted Meryl in her mind. You’re pissed off. It’s different.

Milly was quiet a second. “You’re treating her badly then. She does all this work all day for you – for everyone – and you don’t even have the decency to thank her.”

Meryl shifted, a little uncomfortable. Wasn’t it Vash and Milly who did all the work?

“You two can feel free to leave at any time.”

Would Milly get angry now? The girl, coupled with her sense of rightness, also had a temper. 

But instead, Milly’s voice changed from her normal cheer to a serious somber tone Meryl heard but rarely. “You don’t understand, Knives-san. Sempai loves Vash-san very much. Very much. I think everyone knew but him, even Wo–” She stopped hard. “I mean… I can’t let her lose that. It’s too precious. You shouldn’t… you shouldn’t, if you love someone, have to let them go…”

Meryl shut her eyes, guilt washing over her. She had no right to be with the man she loved if Milly couldn’t be with her beloved. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t right.

“But she still has a chance, you see, so I have to do everything I can… I want her to be happy. I know you want Vash-san to be happy. And… I think he could be… if you…”

“If I what?” Knives snapped, voice dark and harsh. “Let them have their way? Let him live with a human? Let him love a human? Forgive him for trying to kill me, for trying to destroy my happiness and dreams?”

Sharp, discordant silence. 

Then a sound sliced through the air, like a distant gunshot, but infinitely more meaningful to the two in the room behind her.

Milly had slapped Knives.

“How dare you!” The girl was either in tears, or very near to it. “Vash-san loves you with all his heart and has suffered his entire life to try to make you and everyone else happy! Those scars on his body aren’t from humans! They’re from you! From your malice! From your hate! Those tears he cries are because you killed and killed and wouldn’t leave him alone! He just wants everyone to be happy!”

“You know nothing!” Knives returned with the same force as she had mustered. “We were created as better lifeforms than humans, stronger, living longer! You kill all the time to live! Why is it different for a plant? You leech off the blood of my brothers and sisters every day and think nothing of it! My people suffer and die and are oppressed for a pitiful race that should have died out a hundred years ago! What could you know of Vash’s suffering? He doesn’t hear the screams of our brothers, the cries of our sisters! He is deaf, and has been since that wretched woman disappeared!”

“You killed her! You’re the one who did it!” Milly was definitely in tears now.

“No! I tried to save her and she would not listen.” He seemed to be trying to calm himself down. Apparently it was unseemly to lose composure over a human.

“You killed her, and you killed all of Vash’s friends, and you… you killed…”

A derisive snort. “The priest? Yes. Yes, I had Legato kill the priest. Do you know why?”

There was just a muted sobbing from Milly. Meryl had buried her face in her knees. There was nothing she could do. Nothing.

When she did not answer, Knives continued anyway. “Because he was the first real killer Vash had ever befriended. He loved him dearly. Almost as much as his own brother. But he knew that what that priest did was wrong. He killed. He deserved to die. He killed a child, those whom he swore he would protect. It was only a matter of time before he killed you or my brother. He was a murderer. A hypocrite. How could he love a murderer as much as his brother?”

“You don’t understand… anything…” Milly choked out. There was a sound of her struggling to regain composure, to hold her tears back, a bit of sniffling.

“Don’t I?” He was humoring her. Cold bastard, Meryl thought darkly, wondering if she could kill him now.

But Milly replied honestly, albeit shakily. “No… I don’t think you’ve ever understood love, Knives-san.” She sniffled a little bit and blew her nose, but her voice was getting steadier. “Do you know what the truest kind of love is?”

Silence.

“It’s when you love someone more than yourself, and when they love you more than themselves. Both of you are giving, loving, and being happy with each other. You have to know when to take too, but if both of you are giving right, then it works out.” She paused, sniffling a little more. “That’s how sempai cares for your brother. She’s given everything for him. She… I think she loves him the most of anything in the world.”

Meryl closed her eyes, wondering if it made her feelings more real just because someone else had said it.

“And I think,” Milly continued, more assured now, “that he would love her the same way, if only you would let him. If you would just let him be happy.”

Long, drawn-out, aching silence.

Forever stretched on, and it was empty.

Until Knives spoke.

Meryl had never heard his voice sound so hollow, so drained. Had Milly actually won?

“I’ll eat the food,” he murmured lowly. “You can leave. I’ll clean up.”

Meryl turned her eyes up to the window as Milly stood. She could see silhouettes and no real expressions, as the light was behind them. The tall girl leaned down and actually hugged Knives tightly against her for a moment, a surprisingly tender move. He did not hug her back, but neither did he pull away. “Sleep well, Knives.”

He nodded, looking down, silent, and she exited the room catlike.

Meryl was left with only the stars to entertain her.

She wasn’t sure how many minutes had passed when she heard a booted step make its way toward her. She did not look up. She was not sure she wanted to know who it was.

He sat next to her. 

There was a distinctly uncomfortable tone in the stillness between them. She fiddled with her fingers, waiting for him to say something. It was Vash, she was certain, but she did not even sneak a peek at him.

He cleared his throat, nervous, unsure. “Well… I was thinking…”

“Did you hear them fighting?”

He froze for a moment, then let out a long sigh. “Some of it. I was walking back from town. I, uh… got you something. It’s on the table.”

Now she turned. Luminous aqua eyes met hers in the darkness. “Thank you,” she said, so quietly she was unsure if he could hear it.

He smiled, hesitantly, unsure, his lips parting slightly. “I… um, I mean…” He stopped, blinking and shaking his head slightly. “I’m sorry about my brother.”

He was so close. “It’s… no problem.”

“No… I mean…” He didn’t seem to be able to make up his mind as to what he wanted to say.

She suppressed  a smile and a sudden thought. This was the outlaw who had destroyed cities? Who had fought so many without injuring them? Whom she loved?

“Vash-san,” she said softly, through his stammerings. He blinked, and his eyes seemed to refocus.

He took a slow deep breath, then smiled at her, his sweet gentle smile. “I wanted to tell you something.” A pause. “Something important. Meryl.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but he jumped ahead. “But I wasn’t sure how to say it… so…”

And he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers, swift and sweet.

He was… kissing her… He had… said her name… Was this a dream?

But his lips were firm, insistent against hers, and she kissed back, feeling tears form in the corners of her eyes.

Behind them, the light in Knives' room flickered off suddenly, casting them in darkness.
 

The sun streamed in through the window, ribbons of light washing over her face.

Her blankets were wrapped around her in a little cocoon, keeping the heat in. Her eyes were open, gazing at the ceiling.

And she was glowing.

A kiss! It hadn’t been a dream! He had kissed her!

She rolled over onto her stomach and pressed her face into the pillow. She contemplated squealing in delight and shrieking with joy, but then realized she couldn’t breathe with a pillow in her face. She flipped back over again, every part of her feeling beautiful and alive and happy.

It had just been one solitary kiss, and then the darkness had closed around them like a curtain. They had broken apart breathlessly, desperately shy, hearts pounding. He had seen her to her room, then pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

Sleep had not come easily, but when it had, it had been sweet.

A kiss!

She snuggled her pillow tightly and shut her eyes just for one more minute. Just a minute more and she would get up, make breakfast, start the dishes…

There was a gentle knock on the door. “Meryl?” Who was that? Knives? Strange…

“I’ll be up in a minute…” she mumbled into her pillow.

“It’s already ten.”

She sat straight up. “What?” Apparently her musings after she had retired had taken more out of her than previously assumed.

“I made you breakfast.”

Even stranger. Maybe she had gone to sleep in the real world and woken up in a dream world. “Um… all right! I’ll be there in a second…”

She stood up a little shakily, fumbling for her clean clothes. Her uniforms were on their last legs. Maybe today she would get some clothes. Showing up at the Society naked or in rags was unlikely to be dress code.

Pulling on her skirt and blouse and sweater, forgetting about her tights for once, she started towards the door, pushing it open once she was decent. Knives was standing there, tall and imposing, his face very solemn, his hair cut very neatly.

“Your hair looks nice,” she said, rubbing an eye with a fist. “Sorry I slept so long… I guess… I just didn’t fall asleep quickly last night.”

He nodded, his face stoic, but his eyes strange. She didn’t recognize what she saw in them.

“You shouldn’t let your breakfast get cold,” he said, with the same unknown emotion in his voice as in his eyes.

She gave him a small smile and moved toward the kitchen, her bare feet chilly on the cold floor. “Thank you, Knives-san. I appreciate this.”

He had followed her into the room. “Of course. It’s time that someone takes all the workload off your shoulders anyway.”

“Ah– I don’t… I mean…” She tripped over her own words in rapid succession. “I mean, you don’t have to go through any trouble for me. You’re still recovering, you know, so–” And she froze as he started taking off his shirt.

She stared in something between horror and fascination, before she managed to rip her eyes away from him and stare, pink, at the food steaming on the table. “Knives-san, I–”

“See?” he said, and she could hear him rustling fabric. “You can look,” and there was a trace of the old irony in his voice. “Not even scars left.”

She turned her eyes, shyly at first, but then blinked in surprise when she saw that his words were true. Nothing remained of the bullet wounds in his arms. “How…?”

He shrugged, and his muscles rippled obligingly under his smooth, pale skin. “I’ve always been a good healer.”

“But you had that other scar…”

“That was… deeper.” He turned slightly, and started pulling on his shirt again. Blushing again, she sat down in the chair in front of the food.

She picked up her fork and stabbed her egg. The yellow bled agreeably over the white. Knives had cooked it perfectly. Despite the fact she had never seen his cooking skills before, it stood to reason that it would be as excellent as any of his other skills. Too bad his brother hadn’t inherited the same gene.

His brother! She stuffed a piece of egg into her mouth to keep from smiling.

He seated himself, fully clothes, into the chair beside her. “You seem awfully cheerful this morning. All that sleep you got?”

She glanced over at him, smiled, and swallowed. “Must be.”

He eyed her suspiciously. “Hmm… I believe a human is misleading me.”

“We can’t help it,” she replied, amused, “and I’m a woman as well. There’s just no hope for me at all.”

He actually chuckled. “It does seem to be an inherently female trait.”

She gave him another smile, trying to keep it full, then looked back down to her plate. This scenario was… strange. A little discomfiting, but mostly strange. Knives joking about lying? Laughing easily?

“Mm,” she murmured, noncommittally. “This is really good. When did you learn to cook?”

He paused for a long moment. “When Legato was a child. He had to eat, so I had to cook for him.”

She raised her eyes, a little curious. “You took care of him?” Another bite.

“Yes.” His voice was cold. “He was terribly injured in a plant accident when he was a child. It blew off his arm.”

She was startled. “How horrible.” For some reason, she couldn’t reconcile the concept of the crazed killer and this boy of whom Knives spoke. “But when we met him, he had both his arms… Was it mechanical?”

Knives grimaced, an almost frightening look. “No. I replaced it.”

She could tell he did not want her to ask questions. “I see.” A bite of bread. “But at least you learned a life skill! Cooking is very important.”

“I’ve heard it’s the way to a man’s heart,” he murmured, his voice low. “Is it also the way to a woman’s?”

It seemed out of place. So far, the whole day had. “I’d say flowers, for a woman.” She gave him a bright smile, finished what was left on her plate, and moved towards the sink to do dishes. “I hear jewelry works too.” She turned the water on and started filling the dish basin, rinsing and scrubbing.

There were a few long moment where she could feel his eyes watching her, sky under a mop of sun. A few dishes done, and she moved onto silverware, uneasy.

His question was subtle and smooth, fine wine in the morning air. “What about you, Meryl?” he asked quietly. “What’s the way to your heart?”

For some reason, she was not as surprised as she should have been. She gently lowered the dishes into the sink, the faucet still hissing out water. She took a good moment before she answered, preparing herself. “Love is the way to my heart.”

He also paused a moment before answering. “I like that answer.”

She smiled to herself slightly, and was about to say something, when he cut her off. “I’m going to walk around town. You should go buy yourself some nice clothes, and some for Milly. I have some things I need to do.”

Surprised at this, she turned, but just in time to see him shut the door behind him.

Puzzling over his words to her, she finished the dishes and put them away. New clothes it would be then. She was concerned about him wandering about town on his own, but felt strangely assured that he would do no harm to anyone.

The day was warm and bright as she stepped outside.

[more to come]
 

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