Chapter Text
He spent an extra day in town doing nothing but sulking in that shitty motel bed.
For all that he belittled Vash for being a naïve petulant child, well...clearly, Nai was calling the kettle black.
He lied on the bed, unmoving, unblinking, wishing the scratchy sheets under his clothes were graveyard soil. The ceiling fan spun in lazy circles that did nothing against the stuffiness of the room. It was just like Knives, existing solely to go through repetitive motions rather than an intended purpose.
‘Open the window.’ it was suffocating as it is.
But his body wouldn’t move.
And honestly? His soul didn’t care.
‘What if I didn’t run?’ it played on loop in his mind like the duet he once performed under his sisters' corpses.
If he hadn’t run, could he have been a part of Vash’s new family? .....would Vash have even started it if he stuck around?
‘You would have been a burden.’ If not that then an obligation Vash would’ve stuck by until the day he died.
Millions Knives was the reason why Vash the Stampede could never have a life outside of a gunslinging outlaw. The looming presence of the Eye of Michael similarly squandered the priest’s hope of normalcy.
Now that both were out of the picture, they were free. Free to love others without the guilt of them getting harmed by association, to live without the lives of others resting on their shoulders.
Instead of envy or denial, Nai felt grateful for the traitorous ex-assassin. He was the cure to the loneliness that’s plagued his twin, a deterrence from ever returning to the miserable lifestyle Nai currently lives.
Has Nai’s presence in Vash’s life ever brought him joy?
If he hadn’t crashed the ships, would that 1 year of brotherhood lasted no longer than that 0.007% of their lifespans anyways?
He doesn’t know.
(He doesn’t want to.)
Instead, he does this.
He returns to the house, now surrounded by a fully assembled fence.
This time, Vash and Wolfwood are cuddling on a porch swing together. They were in deep conversation, their hands rubbing Vash’s gravid belly every few minutes. Perhaps they were discussing names for the child.
Already, he could imagine a tiny human with a mixture of Vash and Wolfwood’s features running around the garden like a menace, chasing worms and gleefully digging through dirt.
(Picnics in Ship 5’s biodome. An apple tree. A butterfly in a spider’s web. Green grass, artificial blue skies and geraniums-)
He could imagine it but that’s all it’ll be, imaginations.
He’ll never know which parent the child would bear a closer resemblance to. He’ll never know if the child has Vash’s sweet tooth or Wolfwood’s attitude. He’ll never know their favourite colour, animal or hobby.
He won’t even know their name.
(Would the child even know his? Would they know that Vash had a brother and they an uncle?)
The sky darkened. The couple returned inside and light illuminated behind the windows. Nai left, as unseen as a wraith.
Tomorrow, he’ll definitely leave.
Three more days pass and the town has yet to see Nai leave it.
The motel bed is working on an imprint for his body. The ceiling fan has numbed itself to his intense stare. If the abandoned cart had a watch, it could pinpoint the exact second he’d come to visit.
‘You have to leave.’ Nai screamed at himself as he dallied at a stall selling food he won’t eat.
‘You can always come back and visit every few years.’ It was foolproof and as ideal as he was ever going to have.
There was a list of reasons on why he should leave an ile long. The primary one being that he was too scared to face Vash.
There was only one reason that stopped him from doing otherwise.
He was too selfish to leave.
And that sole reason promptly silenced the others.
5 years of soul searching has done nothing to mitigate his greed. It wasn’t another axis-tilting epiphany, just a silent resignation of another flaw, for which he’s recently unearthed an abundance of.
On the fourth day, he went to the market as usual. Maybe this time, he could actually treat himself to something. He’s adapted to the crowd rush of the area and admittedly, somewhat complacent.
He always tilted his hat so the wide brim could hide his eyes and his hair has grown long enough to gather into a low ponytail. Combined with his dusty travel-worn clothes, he looked no different from the average wanderer.
That didn’t stop the girl from watching him as though he was a ticking time bomb.
Credit where it’s due, she’d make a great hunter. Her small size and pretty face are either ogled at or ignored, and she used the latter to her advantage.
Nai was careful not to give away his awareness of her. She’s always there in his peripheral, watching if not simply existing within his vicinity.
‘She knows. She knows who you are.’ His instincts screamed.
But if that was the case, why hasn’t she done anything? Fear? No, that should’ve served as more incentive. Was she spying on him- fuck, what if she’s an undercover Earth Federation agent? What if she’s waiting for reinforcements?
‘Or she just wants you to leave.’ Like he should’ve done 4. Days. Ago.
Rubbing his eyes, he stomped up the stairs and snatched his knapsack. Tossing a handful of double dollars onto the counter, he left the inn.
His little shadow followed.
Blades crawling under his hands, he ducked into a secluded alleyway.
“Come out.” He grunted, purposely exposing his back.
Silence.
He counted to 10.
And turned around to stare through a shotgun barrel.
“I don’t have any money.” He drawled.
“You think I give a shit?” she spat. “What is it you really want?”
“Nothing. Preferably, no trouble.” He replied.
“You really expect me to believe that, Millions Knives?” crap.
He winced at the mention of his old epithet. “You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”
“I’d have to blind, deaf and stupid not to.” She scoffed. “Still hard to believe you’re related to Vash though.”
“Why didn’t you shoot me on sight then?” he asked.
She shoved the barrel closer. “I was tempted, believe me. But the last thing I wanted was to cause a scene. That would’ve alerted Vash and I wasn’t gonna let you anywhere near him.”
Then her scowl turned impossibly sourer. “Then again, I probably didn’t do a good job, did I?”
“They didn’t see me. I’ll leave, it’ll be like I was never here.” He reassured.
“So you admit it.” She didn’t lower her firearm. “You were there for him. Why? Why now?”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.” He growled, the tips of his blades pushing through his knuckles.
“You must’ve had a nice quiet life so far.” She mused, mockery dripping from her tone.
“Nice is a little farfetched.” He deadpanned.
“Vash’s life was nothing like that when he was in your shoes.” She scowled.
“I’m aware.” He said quietly.
“Couldn’t resist trying to get even with him? Go ahead and try, I dare you. I’m sure the fuel stations and halfway points would love a reliable update on Millions Knives’s latest whereabouts.” She goaded.
His nails dug bloody crescents into his palms.
He could kill her.
It’d be so easy to slice through that shotgun like a twig and slit her throat. She was threatening him at gunpoint, it’d be self-defence.
Except this wasn’t about tormenting Nai. It was about protecting Vash. At the root of her hostility was concern for his twin, hinting at some fondness.
“You’d be throwing Vash under the bus too. If the bounty hunters come here, they’ll recognize him.” He pointed out.
“I know Vash the Stampede. He’s not the Humanoid Typhoon.” She said with the same certainty as the sky’s colour.
“Is your word alone really enough?” he asked, graciously ignoring the oxymoron.
“The Humanoid Typhoon’s a walking calamity of mass destruction. Vash? Unfortunate resemblance. Vash takes care of the Plants free of charge and has done miracles for our agriculture. Nicholas does the funerals, weddings and woodwork in town. He and his husband help out on the ranch.
“And....” she took a deep breath, steeling herself. “Vash is my brother. He’s family, not some 60 billion double-dollar fiend.”
Nai flinched at the last statement as though she slapped him.
It wasn’t a taunt. It was a declaration.
It was the truth.
“Am I wrong?” she challenged.
“No, you’re not.” He admitted.
“I’ll ask again, what the hell do you want?” she asked.
“I wanted to see him, nothing more than that, I swear.” He stared at his boots.
“Sorry but that sounds like a load of bull.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “You ruin his life, almost got him and his husband killed multiple times, disappear for years then show up to stalk him because you were feeling homesick?”
“Yes.” He replied.
The succinct admission startled her into lowering her shotgun at last.
“.....you said you’re his...sister.” the word stiffly rolled off his tongue (white lily, cryogenic tubes, 229 days-). “I didn’t get your name.”
Her lips pursed as she debated handing her identification over to the ex-terrorist. Then again, what could he do? Stalk her next? She could already tell the Plant no longer had as many knives as his name implied.
“I’m Lina. Vash was my brother for 2 years before he settled here for good. And I’m not gonna lose him.”
2 years.......
“Julai.” He breathed. “You met him after Julai?”
She nodded.
A lump formed in his throat.
“Thank you. For being there for him.” He said. “I don’t know how to prove it but I really mean no trouble. I just wanted to make sure he was well, though I didn’t expect him to be......”
“Pregnant? Yeah, didn’t see that coming.” Lina admitted.
“I didn’t expect to see him with Wolfwood. He has a home, a family and......”
“And?”
‘I want it too.’ “I’ve pushed my luck as it is.” He said.
Lina stared at him up and down, from his sandy boots to his haggard face. Finally she tilted the shotgun down.
“I believe you.” She said.
Nai looked up.
Lina rubbed the back of her neck. “Do you want a thomas? Might give your boots a break.”
“I don’t know.....” chicks and juveniles were fine but adult thomases? Their eyes stared into your soul and fed on your fear.
“Wuss.” She stuck her tongue out at him.
Nai huffed.
Lina followed him to the fringes of town. Though her stride was relaxed, he noted that her finger remained on the trigger. Sharp girl.
“......take care of Vash and his child.” It was a plead, not an order.
“You don’t have to tell me that.” She snorted.
Reassured but still alone, he returned to the sands.
He left and dared not look back lest Lina caught sight of his tears.
Every now and then, Knives would come across a town/village he visited beforehand. And sometimes, someone would recognize him. It was shocking at first, especially since he went out of his way to not be noticed, much less remembered.
But he was. They’d holler his name and ask how he was, where he’s been, have you been eating? Let’s grab a meal. Once or twice, they called him ‘Neels’ or ‘Kai’ but it’s the thought that counts.
It was....endearing. With the Eye of Michael, every member knew his name, spoke it with reverence. These people didn’t revere him, they simply remembered.
It was nice to be remembered as Nai.
When he goes into town, nobody knows who Nai is.
But they know who Millions Knives is.
And they make sure Nai knows that they know.
He had been purchasing a loaf of bread from the bakery when it happened. The cashier was a sweet girl and the only other customer in line was a slouching man in a jacket that’s seen better days.
He planned on heading to the plaza’s benches to enjoy his meal when the sheriff intercepted him.
“Hey, you.”
Nai froze a second too long. Too late to pretend he hadn’t heard.
“Turn around.”
The brown bag crinkled in his white-knuckled grip. Still, he forced his neck muscles to comply.
“Take your hat off.” The sheriff’s voice was stern though his hands were shaking.
Swallowing, Nai showed him his face.
“YOU!” he whipped his pistol out. “You-you monster! You have a lot of fucking nerve!”
“Norman? What’s going on?!” the cashier came out with a rolling pin in hand.
“Lucy, stay back!” Norman screeched.
Nai’s head instinctively whipped around to look at her.
She stared at his face. The shape of his eyes, his facial structure, the mole.
Stars burst through Nai’s vision as a rolling pin smashed against his head. Lucy shrieked like an enraged banshee.
“Damn you! Damn you! DAMN YOU TO HELL, MILLIONS KNIVES!” she spat, each word accompanied by a blow.
Her outburst summoned a crowd. It took four grown men to wrestle her away from Nai, still clutching splinters that were once a baking utensil. Norman ordered them to stay back, gun trained on Nai though with how clammy his palms were, he could barely hold the firearm, nevermind pull its trigger.
“LET ME GO!” Lucy demanded. “LET ME KILL HIM! DAMN HIM!”
“I-” she hates him, hates that he’s breathing the same air as her, hates him as much as he once despised her ilk. “I’m sorry.”
For a second, she’s silent.
Then it shatters into a million jagged pieces.
“SORRY?!” she gaped at him. “Do you even know why I hate you?!”
Nai could guess why.
“Your stupid ship killed my brother’s entire family.” she spelled out for him. “My niece wasn’t even a year old and you killed her.”
(229 days.)
The loaf of bread was trampled under the mob. Nai ran out of town with bruises mottling his skin like rotten apples, a concussion bouncing around his skull and a pitchfork stuck to his back.
It was awful to be remembered as Millions Knives.
“Nai?”
Not only was the name spot-on, the voice that said it sounded vaguely familiar.
Turning around, Nai’s eyes widened at the middle-aged face that greeted him. Though the beard was trimmed, his smile and hat were the same.
“Oliver?” he gaped.
“It is you!” the truck driver laughed, clapping his back. “Call me Ollie!”
“Nice to see you again?” he cringed at his social ineptitude.
“The feeling’s mutual. See you kept the hat.” Oliver nodded at it.
“Very useful against the sun.” Nai recalled.
“Aye.” He nodded sagely, leading him into a noisy bar. “Hey, Alyss, we need two pints over here!” he called to a waitress.
“I don’t drink.” Nai replied.
“More for me then.” Oliver shrugged. “So, what kinda excitement have you been up to?”
“Nothing much.” Nai replied.
“Hogwash. Wanderers like you always have a story.” Oliver said.
“They’re not good stories.” And Nai wasn’t a good storyteller.
“Depends on one’s definition of ‘good’.” Alyss placed their order on the table and Oliver drained a pint halfway in three big gulps.
“Alright, how bout we play a little game? I guess your story, and you tell me if I’m right.” He suggested.
“.....why not.” Nai said. The least he could do was humour him.
“You’re looking for something...no, someone, yes?” Oliver started.
“I was.” Nai said, fascinated by a misshaped stain on the table.
“You found them buuuuut they didn’t give you the happy ending you were expecting.” Oliver added.
“That’s....not entirely accurate.” Nai bit his lip.
“You wanna talk about it? No need for names, just enough details to get it off your chest.” Oliver offered in a quieter tone.
Oliver wasn’t a priest and this wasn’t confession, but the words spilled past Nai’s lips as though it was.
“The person I was looking for is living a happy ending. The thing is, I’m not a part of it and....and it hurts. The knowledge that I could have been.....and the possibility that I was never needed for it to happen in the first place.” He explained.
He intertwined his fingers. Maybe he should’ve taken a pint after all.
“I get how you feel.” Oliver stared into his drink. “Feels like the sand on this planet, yeah? Got so much of it but it always slips through our fingers.”
Nai nodded sadly.
“So, you’re worried that your ending’s gonna be a bad one?” Oliver asked.
“.....maybe.” he shrugged nonchalantly. He barely has a grasp on his tomorrows, much less his unforeseeable future.
“Maybe you can’t have a perfect happily ever after. That don’t mean you have to walk right into a bad one.” Oliver pointed out.
“What if a bad one’s what I deserve?” Nai sighed.
“If that’s really the ending you want, go ahead.” Oliver shrugged.
Nai glanced to the side. He watched a man cheer as his cards dealt a good hand. A duo of friends laughed uproariously as they drunkenly burst out of the doors. The waitress, Alyss, blew a kiss at a customer who tipped her.
So many different people with different lives.
What would their ending be like? What was the epilogue they desired to write with their own two hands?
A menu slid over to him.
“Help yourself, it’s on me.” Oliver said.
Nai wasn’t hungry but he pretended to read the lettering on the creased yellow paper.
“Here, I can’t finish it on my own.” He later said, giving Oliver his barely touched plate.
Oliver thanked him profusely but he wasn’t quick enough to hide the glint of pity in his eyes.
He told Nai stories about the hitchhikers he’s met, about his cousin’s recent nuptials and how he’s absolutely certain a friend of his friend was having a steamy affair with a mayor’s secretary.
In turn, Nai haltingly told him about his own travels. Like the worm fossil he found in a canyon, the time a wild thomas chick gnawed on his hair and the other wildlife one wouldn’t spot while travelling on a moving vehicle.
Oliver ordered another pint and a glass of water for Nai. Once those were drained, his companion lit a cigarette.
“No thanks.” Nai declined when he offered him one.
“You sure you ain’t a priest?” Oliver chuckled.
“I swear that I’m not in the name of the Lord.” Nai jested wryly (oh if only he knew.....).
Oliver snorted. “Knew you had a funny bone somewhere.”
Nai’s lips twitched. Much to his astonishment, he was tempted to smile.
Exhaling a final puff of smoke, Oliver tossed the filter into the cracked ashtray.
“Catching up has been nice and all, but it’s time we get some shut eye.” He yawned.
Huh, had time really flown that fast?
It has, if the number of empty tables around them was anything to go by.
“What’re your plans?” Oliver asked.
“Nothing special.” Nai shrugged. He planned to leave and head west.
He had to say goodbye to Oliver.
His heart panged. The reluctance to leave wasn’t as intense as it’d been with Vash, but it was there nonetheless.
He cared about Oliver. He would miss him.
Nai did a double-take as Oliver swapped Nai’s hat with his. Was he that intoxicated?
“Keep it.” Oliver insisted, each word clear as a line drawn in the sand. “This one’s fallin’ apart as it is.”
Nai pinched the brim between his fingers. There wasn’t a single tear to it.
“Thanks, Ollie.”
It was already night but the man’s smile shone like one of the twin suns.
It was the first and last time Nai would call him by his nickname.
Oliver whistled a tune as he hoisted his groceries through the crowd. With any luck, he can find a congratulatory gift for his cousin in the next town.
However, he couldn’t help but backtrack when he spotted a familiar poster in his peripheral.
Millions Knives scowled at him from the static image.
Shaking his head, he tore it off the wall and crumpled the paper into a ball.
Millions Knives wasn’t in town and Nai didn’t need unnecessary trouble.
Though he’d never see him again in the years that passed, he spent the next few days hoping that somehow, some way, he found himself a right ending.