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December 1st
On the day the new wanted posters were posted, Meryl still wasn’t the least bit surprised that she hadn’t recognized Vash’s face when she met the real deal.
“I’m telling you, Milly,” she said, “this looks nothing like him.”
Milly squinted at one of the posters. “Well, that’s because this one’s got the name ‘Millions Knives’ on it.”
“No, not that one! I know Vash and Knives don’t look the same. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” Meryl couldn’t quite explain it. “There’s just something off about it.”
Maybe it was the fact that Vash was on a wanted poster at all that made him nigh unrecognizable.
Milly just shrugged, and Meryl grumbled as she pulled out her notebook and scribbled something down. It’s not like they’d made no progress. They were starting to gain ground on this gallivanting idiot, but it was slow and already the first of December.
“Don’t worry, Meryl,” Milly said. “I know you miss Vash, but we’ll find him on time!”
“Wha—this isn’t a matter of missing him!” Meryl yelled. “I’m not worried about finding him in time for the holidays, I’m mad! He goes on yapping about how he’ll come back, just wait for him. And then he just buzzes off to Nowheresville without even leaving any signs that he’s alive! I swear to God, Milly, when I finally see that Humanoid Pain in the Ass again—”
“I’m sure he’ll be just as excited to see us as we are to see him!”
Meryl sighed, slumping against the wall of the saloon they’d stopped in for the night. Milly’s optimism had a way of disarming her mid-rant, leaving her with nothing but the simmering frustration she carried everywhere. It wasn’t that Milly was wrong—of course Vash would be happy to see them—but that didn’t mean he didn’t deserve an earful first.
“We’ve been at this for months,” Meryl muttered, rubbing her temples. “I’m starting to think he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Well,” Milly said brightly, “if he is, he must be terrible at it! Otherwise, we wouldn’t have gotten this far, right?”
Meryl shot her a flat look, but Milly’s wide grin didn’t waver.
“C’mon, Meryl. Let’s get some rest,” Milly said, draping her coat over a chair. “Tomorrow’s another day closer to finding Mr. Vash.”
—
One Week Later
Meryl adjusted her scarf against the biting wind as she and Milly stepped into the bustling town market. The air smelled faintly of roasting nuts and spice, a deceptive warmth amidst the chill of early December.
“I still think it’s ridiculous,” Meryl muttered, eyeing the stalls. “Stocking up on supplies before we’ve even found him. What if we’re lugging all this food and he’s nowhere nearby?”
“Oh, he’s closer than you think, Meryl,” Milly said confidently, cradling a bag of apples in her arms. “I can just feel it! Besides, even if we don’t find him in this town, at least we’ll have snacks for the road!”
Meryl frowned but didn’t argue.
The market was as lively as ever, with vendors shouting about their wares and the smell of roasted meat and fresh bread wafting through the air. Meryl was eyeing a small sack of flour, doing quick mental math to figure out if they could afford it with their budget.
“Meryl!” Milly’s cheerful voice called out, drawing her attention.
Meryl turned to find Milly already holding a large, precariously stacked crate of pudding cups, her face glowing with excitement.
“What… is that?” Meryl asked, her tone already laced with dread.
“It’s pudding!” Milly declared proudly. “Perfect for the holidays, don’t you think?”
Meryl’s stomach dropped. “Milly… how much did that cost?”
“Not much!” Milly said quickly, then faltered. “Well, maybe a little much. But look how many there are! Enough for us, Mr. Vash, and even some for the innkeeper if he wants!”
Meryl’s eye twitched. “How much, Milly?”
“About half our budget,” Milly admitted sheepishly, clutching the crate tighter as if Meryl might rip it away from her.
“Half?!” Meryl shouted, throwing her hands up. “Milly, we’re trying to survive here, not throw a pudding banquet!”
“But pudding is perfect for the holidays!” Milly said, her tone imploring. “It’s sweet and festive, and everyone loves it! Don’t you think Mr. Vash will be so happy when he sees it?”
Meryl opened her mouth to argue, then paused. As much as she hated to admit it, Milly might have a point. No, actually, she really wasn’t wrong.
Still, half their budget?!
Meryl sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But if we run out of money before we find him, you’re explaining to the innkeeper why we can’t pay for our room.”
Milly beamed. “Oh, thank you, Meryl! You’ll see, it’ll be worth it!”
—
Christmas Eve
The wind was biting as Meryl and Milly trudged through the snow-covered streets of a sleepy desert town. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting everything in the soft glow of twinkling holiday lights strung haphazardly between buildings.
Meryl checked her notes for what felt like the hundredth time, cross-referencing it with the latest whispers from the townsfolk. “This has to be it,” she muttered, pulling her coat tighter against the cold.
Milly, ever upbeat despite the long journey, was carrying their now-lighter bag of supplies (though the pudding cups still poked out from the top). “I hope Mr. Vash likes surprises!” she said cheerfully.
“Oh, he’ll like it,” Meryl grumbled. “Assuming he doesn’t run the second he sees us.”
They turned the corner and spotted a small inn, its sign barely legible in the dim light. A single room was lit upstairs, and Meryl’s heart jumped.
“Come on,” she said, leading the way.
—
Vash sat by the window, staring out at the quiet street below. His red coat was folded neatly on the chair beside him, and his glasses rested on the table, reflecting the faint glow of the lamp.
He knew he shouldn’t have stayed in one place for so long, but the weariness in his bones had convinced him otherwise. One more night wouldn’t hurt, he’d told himself. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone would come looking for him.
A soft knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He froze, tension creeping up his spine. Nobody knocked on his door, especially not this late. His hand reached for his gun—
“Vash?”
The voice was familiar, and his heart lurched. Slowly, he stood and crossed the room, hesitating before opening the door.
“Meryl? Milly?”
Meryl stood with her hands on her hips, snow still clinging to her coat and hair. Milly was beside her, holding their bag and grinning ear to ear.
“Merry Christmas Eve, Mr. Vash!” Milly chirped.
For a moment, Vash just stared at them, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “How... how did you even—”
“Track you down?” Meryl interrupted, stepping past him into the room. “Because you’re terrible at hiding, that’s how. You leave behind a trail of people talking about a tall guy in a red coat who helps fix wagons and feeds stray cats. Not exactly subtle.”
Vash scratched the back of his head, a sheepish smile forming. “I didn’t think anyone would actually follow me.”
“Clearly,” Meryl said, setting her bag down with a thud. “Do you have any idea how long we’ve been looking for you?”
Milly closed the door and set her bag on the table, pulling out the pudding cups. “We brought supplies for a holiday dinner!” she said, her voice bright.
“Dinner?” Vash echoed, still looking like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
“Yes, dinner,” Meryl said, pulling out bread and dried meat. “You’re not running off this time, Vash. We’re celebrating the holidays whether you like it or not.”
An hour later, the small room smelled of warm food and faintly of cinnamon from the tea Milly had insisted on brewing. Vash sat on the edge of the bed, his hands cradling a cup as he watched Meryl slice bread with practiced efficiency.
“I don’t understand why you’d go through all this trouble,” he said finally, his voice quiet.
Meryl paused, glancing at him. “Why wouldn’t we?”
“Because...” He hesitated, his grip tightening on the cup. “It’s been years since I’ve had anything like this. Holidays were always... different for me.”
Milly tilted her head, curious but gentle. “What do you mean, Mr. Vash?”
Vash stared down at his tea, his voice distant. “I’ve spent over 150 Christmases at this point... most of them alone. The people I cared about didn’t stay long—either they couldn’t, or they wouldn’t.” He looked up, his eyes glassy with memories. “And I don’t blame them. It’s easier that way. For everyone. Who wants to deal with stormy weather ruining their holiday?”
Meryl scowled. “That’s why you ran away, isn’t it? You think it’s easier for us if you just disappear.”
Vash nodded, his gaze falling again. “You’re safer without me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Meryl snapped. “Do we look safer to you? We’ve been chasing you across half the damn planet, you idiot! If anything, it’s more dangerous trying to find you than it is actually being with you.”
Milly smiled, her voice soft. “And we missed you, Mr. Vash. It wouldn’t feel like the holidays without you.”
Vash blinked, his lip trembling slightly. “You... missed me?”
“Well, Milly did,” Meryl said, rolling her eyes. “I just didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to yell at you for making us go through all this trouble.”
“Meryl was really anxious to see you, Mr. Vash,” Milly said. “I don’t know why she doesn’t want to say it, but the idea of you spending the holidays alone just never sat right with her.”
“Milly!”
Milly continued, “All of this was actually her idea!”
Meryl buried her face in her hands. “You would’ve suggested we go looking for him even if I hadn’t said anything.”
Vash stared at the two women, his heart caught somewhere between disbelief and warmth he hadn’t felt in decades. He set his cup down carefully, his hands trembling. “You went through all this trouble... for me?”
“Of course we did,” Meryl said, still looking flustered from Milly’s admission. “Not that you made it easy. Honestly, you could’ve at least left a note or something to let us know you weren’t dead!”
“Besides, we brought all this so we could celebrate properly!” Milly chimed in cheerfully, pulling a tin of pudding from the bag and setting it on the table. “There’s plenty more where that came from. Even I can’t finish all this pudding by myself!”
Vash couldn’t help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. “You two are unbelievable.”
Meryl folded her arms, her stern expression softening slightly. “You’re not getting out of this, Vash. You’re stuck with us for the night, so you might as well enjoy it.”
As the clock struck midnight, the three of them sat together in the warm glow of the room, the food spread out before them. Milly clapped her hands together, her excitement lighting up the space. “Oh! Mr. Vash, we almost forgot! We got you a present!”
Vash blinked, startled. “A... present?”
Meryl reached into her satchel and pulled out a neatly wrapped package. “Don’t make a big deal out of it,” she muttered, handing it to him. “It’s nothing fancy.”
Vash took the package carefully, his fingers brushing against the rough paper. For a moment, he simply stared at it, his throat tightening. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a gift.
“Go on, open it!” Milly encouraged, leaning forward eagerly.
Vash nodded, swallowing hard as he peeled back the paper. Inside was a worn leather journal, its cover embossed with a simple compass design. He opened it to find blank pages, waiting to be filled.
“We thought...” Meryl started, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “Well, you’ve been wandering around for so long. Maybe it’d be nice to have something to write in. Or draw. Or whatever it is you do when you’re off being a mysterious loner.”
Vash ran his fingers over the pages, his eyes misting over. “This is... perfect,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
Milly smiled brightly. “I’m so glad you like it, Mr. Vash! We wanted to get you something useful, but also something personal, you know?”
Meryl smirked. “What we’re trying to say is, we expect you to stay in touch this time. No excuses.”
Vash laughed softly, a sound that felt like it came from a place deep inside him that had been locked away for far too long. “I’ll try,” he promised, his voice steady despite the lump in his throat.
They spent the rest of the night sharing stories and laughter, the past and present blending together in the warm bubble of the little room. For the first time in ages, Vash felt like he wasn’t just a wanderer, drifting through life.
As the first light of dawn crept through the window, he looked at Meryl and Milly, both dozing off in their chairs, and felt something he hadn’t dared to in a long time.
Hope.
“Thank you,” he whispered, the words meant for more than just the gift.