Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ Donuts, Roses, Bounties and Millions Knives ❯ The End of One Journey, The Start of Another ( Chapter 1 )

 

 

 

Authors Note: I've always done these, but this is the first time I've ever gone out of my way to put one up. I don't know what made it turn out to be Trigun, or this site. Story is anime based. ^^ Heh. Maybe it will work out. Enjoy!

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun nor any of the original characters and have no intention of making any money off of them. I'd be shot between the eyes otherwise.

 

Prologue

 

The twin suns in the sky were blinding white and unforgiving as they beat down upon the small village. It wasn't like the big cities of April or May, in fact it was nothing more than a small alcove built within the canyon walls nearby, made to shelter the few that lived there from the blinding light of the sun and searing heat. The houses were simple and small, perfectly fit for a group of individuals that were prepared to march onward, should disaster strike.

 

And that's exactly what these people did.

 

They were a small colony of travelers, mostly family that pitched up homes where they could, always moving onward in the hopes that they would find lush land to settle in, though their hopes thinned with every year. Gunsmoke was a beautiful, fiery, sand-filled planet but beyond its endless ocean blue skies and those sand dunes there was no real paradise to speak of. Many people considered the heat to be unrelenting and cruel, though as with all of the inhabitants that had come to live on the planet, they had grown used to the temperature and the humid weather. It was just a natural process of adaptation after all.

 

The only thing that the close knit group had to worry about was the wild life. Gunsmoke had some unforgiving sandworms that dwelt under the surface of the sand. The creatures never meant to harm anything- they were for the most part, entirely independent and shy of humans and their cities. But occasionally one would surface from the sand and set into motion a train of events that led to mass wide panic and mayhem. But then those moments would pass, forgotten once the chaos ended and the creature buried back below ground, not to be heard from again.

 

Unfortunately though, the close circle of family and friends had one different problem to worry about today. Aside from the fact that only two weeks ago a strange ship had crash landed nearby-exploding it seemed upon impact and destroying whatever was left inside- they had unwelcome visitors.

 

Now it couldn't be said that this close knit group was very cruel. Quite the opposite; they would be the ones to stop and help a stranger when they needed it, offering up what little they had in return for nothing. All of them were kind and generous, years of having been on a never ending journey having softened their outlook on other's hardships while strengthening their resolve to keep going.

 

The leader of them in fact stood a little bit away from the rest of the group as they awoke from their usual routines and prepared for another journey- it was nearing time for them to leave again. His name was William Anderson. He, like many of the others, was dressed for traveling. His attire was old and worn down, the cape was thinning and turning the color of slate grey while the hood was pulled up over his head. He had on a long sleeved white shirt, though the years had dimmed the color and his pants were pale blue, his boots and belt brown. He had no weapon to speak of- he and his family never bothered with such things- though his features betrayed his age. He was nearing his late forties, his jet black hair that fell to his shoulders graying. His beard was graying as well, though if he shaved it he might look a few years younger than he really was. The first onset of wrinkles lay in between his eyes, that slight crinkle on the bridge of the nose, more noticeable when he was wearing his glasses for reading.

 

But he wasn't reading now because there wasn't time for it. He had walked away from his friends and family to speak with a man that had come to visit.

 

“Hey! The boss is talkin' to you!”

 

For the first time in a long time, William Anderson's hazel brown gaze was filled with animosity. His eyes flashed as he lifted his head and paid full attention to his guests. The one that had spoken stood on the left. He was hunched over, a huge black box nearly twice his size strapped to his back with chains and rope. He cringed occasionally- it was obvious that the henchman was in pain. Whatever was in the box was heavy, probably the belongings of the “boss” that was mentioned before. But as he looked at the man struggling to keep upright, he saw the many decorated knives that adorned every strap at his pants and his eyes narrowed.

 

“Forgive me. My name is William Anderson. Is there something I can help you gentlemen with?” The question was flat. He hoped that the strangers would take the hint. They looked more like thugs than actually people, as there were two others besides the one hunched over male.

 

One looked to be like a young woman, only 5'4 with long tied back black hair. She had on a pair of shades- dark sunglasses that were rectangular in shape and hung off of her nose so that her sharp glacier blue eyes were visible and criticizing. She was dressed for traveling too, her trench coat buttoned all the way up to the wide spread collar that hid her neck and covered the lower half of her face. The sleeves were long and loose, flowing smoothly down to her wrists, where one palm- the one on her right side- was bandaged, the white cloth and gauze wrapping around so that it slid in-between each finger before it rewrapped around the palm. Her fingers twitched- a sign of nervousness?- but her eyes betrayed no emotion at all. From the neck down, everything was black save for her bandages and oddly enough, the splash of pure white on the bangs that fell over her eyes from her dark hair. He imagined she must be burning up in the get up- it was too hot to be parading around in black like that all day, soaking up the suns heat, but other than the sweat that was present on her forehead, she didn't seem bothered at all. Inwardly a warning shot through him, whenever he met her gaze his head spun and he became sick to his stomach. But then he couldn't stop looking at her- something about her struck his interest. There were times her eyes flickered with soft emotion. Something along the lines of sadness and loneliness. He had no idea how he knew that but he knew that's what it was before it faded back into nothingness again. Unlike the other man, she had two guns, both powerful weapons that didn't look like any pistols he had ever seen before. After a few seconds of watching her he became agitated. He didn't like the feeling that pitted in his gut whenever he set his eyes on her.

 

But the final gentlemen was the worst of all. The last had a distinct air of dangerousness to him. Anderson sensed it and withheld a cringe. This man looked like nothing more than the a rich businessman. But after years of honing instincts out on the road of this dust ball of a planet, Anderson knew a threat when he saw one.

 

The stranger was younger than he was. Maybe thirty or so and clean cut. He looked like he had stepped off of a first class steamer, dressed in a suit fit for a king and wearing those well polished shoes. His hair was golden blonde and tied back into a short tail. What was interesting was the monocle in his right eye. It looked almost humorous. What good would such a fancy thing like that do you out here? Anderson couldn't help it. He smiled.

 

“Actually, I believe you can.” Anderson was not surprised by the stranger's fluent tone of voice. He spoke exactly like a man fit for what he was wearing. “You see, I'm looking for something.”

 

“We have food and water but no money.”

 

“That's not what I meant,” the man said, smiling. His dark brown eyes let off a malicious glint, a small sign of emotion that Anderson felt nervous about. “I didn't think people still went on these journeys anymore,” the stranger continued. “But that's besides the point. You would know best where things like what I need are. Who else to ask? You've been out and about far more times than anyone else can count.”

 

“Hmm.” Anderson agreed under his breath.

 

“I'm looking for a ship.”

 

“A…a-a ship?” Anderson choked. He blinked. “What?” Did he hear correctly?

 

“More precisely,” the man continued, “one the SEEDS ships that fell a long time ago. There are a few left but I'm searching for one in particular.”

 

“May I inquire as to why?” Anderson muttered.

 

Everything went quiet. For a moment the old traveler thought he had asked something that he shouldn't. He opened his mouth to rephrase the question. Before he could, he was cut off.

 

“It's a very old ship, and it has something that I want. Don't get me wrong, I'm willing to donate quite the sum of money to you and your little…family, should you help me.” He paused and smirked. “Of course, that's if the information is at all true.”

 

“I've seen a lot of ships.”

 

“And?”

 

“They're all pieces of crap. Broken, every last one. Not a thing inside left to salvage. We would know. We go around lookin' through em when we run out of supplies. Kinda hoping there will be some manageable plant in there to give us water when we're running low.”

 

“Uh-huh.” His smile faded a little as his comment turned biting. Anderson sensed that he wasn't doing a good job of making the visitor pleased. “Perhaps I should introduce myself. I'm a Federal Marshal. My name is Xavier Stone.”

 

“Is something wrong?” Anderson asked.

 

“Quite. You see, I'm very busy in a current investigation. I need you to understand that whatever information you give is…delicate. I must have it, you see.”

 

Anderson nodded. He looked back to the young woman and his head spun again, a light buzz filling his ears. He thought he heard a voice and shook his head before turning back to face Stone. “I..can give you a few locations.” He winced as the buzz grew louder and turned into a shrill, continuous ring in his ears. No one else seemed to be noticing it.

 

“Ah, I would appreciate it.”

 

Anderson relayed what he and his friends and family knew of three downed ships from long ago. Some of them he said, might have been buried by now because of the winds, though he doubted anything useful would come out of them at all. When at last he finished, Stone was smiling.

 

“I appreciate your help. I have a wire sent to the nearest city- it should give you and your family some help on your journey.”

 

“You're welcome.” The man paused. “Wait,” he said as the Federal Marshal turned to go. “It may be nothing but…they're saying that thing that crashed from the sky…it's supposed to be an old ship that got lost out in space. We haven't come across it and maybe it's useless. I heard it exploded upon impact. But it fell into tat gorge- the one that Brilliant Dynamite's Neon nearly sent the first class steamer into a few years back.”

 

The Federal Marshal smiled. His eyes flashed. “Ah, I heard something about that.” Yet again he thanked Anderson, but this time Anderson's blood went cold whenever he met the Federal Marshal's eyes. There was something in them that was dark and foreboding, something he hadn't wished to see. Another warning shot through his mind as the buzzing stopped. When at last the small group left he went back to his family, muttering under his breath about helping strangers.

 

--

 

It was a full hour later when he called her into his presence again. She was always the quiet one- rarely talking for fear of saying the wrong thing. As they walked it had been mostly Xavier and Yuan speaking. They were going over ideas on how to visit each of the SEEDS ships sites. She never said a word. That is, until Xavier addressed her.

 

“And how long were you going to let that idiot stare at you?” The Federal Marshal asked pleasantly. He chuckled. “You could have forced him to hand over the information and yet you didn't. I'd like to know why, if that isn't an issue.”

 

“He was willing to answer your question,” she said softly. She dropped her gaze.

 

“There's a reason I brought you along,” Stone told her, “and yet you seem absolutely disgusted with your purpose. If I had that kind of power…” He closed his eyes for but a brief moment. “Well.” In the end he sighed, smiling again. “I don't, now do I?”

 

She stiffened and froze. A sudden notion occurred to her. When she lifted her gaze she found that he had stopped walking too. He folded his hands behind his back while Yuan, the box carrier, grinned cattishly at her. Her eyes narrowed.

 

“But-“

 

“I'm growing tired of these little rebellions,” Xavier said calmly. “And besides. The only way to ensure that no one is able to follow our trail is to get rid of the evidence that we were ever here at all. This is precisely the reason why those idiots haven't picked up yet on what I'm doing.”

 

“You can't do that!” She snarled, her eyes flashing.

 

“Correction. I won't do that. You will,” he stated simply. He turned to face her and brought one hand up in the air, his thumb pressed against his middle finger.

 

“Don't!” She cried, too late as he snapped his fingers. She yelped as pain shot through her body and sent her stumbling backwards into the sand. She sat there, huddled in a ball, cringing, lips curled back in a silent, painful snarl until he snapped his fingers again and the lightning hot pain slipped away.

 

“Now I expect not once person to make it to the next city, you understand. You are to kill everything. And stop your senseless moping and debating with me. I don't see why you're arguing. This is what you were born to do!”

 

---

 

-Two Days Later-

 

The Humanoid Typhoon leaned back in his chair while he observed the motionless body in front of him. It was his brother, Million Knives, resting after their recent battle. He had yet to awaken, completely conscious. After the injuries Vash had given his brother, it was no wonder why. The battle had left him physically exhausted and his brother required a lot of time to recover- even though Vash had come back all smiles and clearly overjoyed to see the town people and his two insurance girls again, it didn't change the fact that he was tired too.

 

In fact, after coming back the outlaw spent most of his time catching up on sleep and watching out for his brother. He hadn't done anything really purposeful besides that, though he sometimes wished he could help out the two girls that kept looking after him, and especially Knives when he was away to go to the store.

 

The plant sighed and smiled warmly down at the resting form of his brother. He had a few injuries coming back, but Vash's were nothing along the lines of his brothers. He rubbed the back of his neck and grinned sheepishly. Maybe that hadn't gone exactly the way he planned. He hadn't meant for Knive's recovery to take so long, but after so many years of running around, frantic because his brother was trying to annihilate all of mankind, he was finally relieved that he could now watch over him with as much care as he needed.

 

And that's just what he did.

 

Sometimes he was worried to the point that any small stop in his brother's breathing pattern would set him into panic and make him shout for Meryl or Milly to help him. But then it would turn out to be nothing and he would get smacked upside the head for getting them to run upstairs for absolutely nothing. Meryl was always the only agitated one after those sessions. Milly would merely blink and say, “Gosh Mr. Vash, he seems to be fine to me.”

 

And then Meryl would add, “You're such a pea brained idiot. Why don't you shout when there's an actual emergency?”

 

Vash's grin slid into a warmer, genuine smile at the memories. He couldn't believe that both women had accepted him after he brought home his brother, especially after all they had been through with him. Meryl never ceased to amaze him. The little things she did when she thought he wasn't looking only made him appreciate her all the more. The short girl never once showed reluctance at having to help his brother. She was normally the one who helped to re-bandage the wounds, checking on their progress while Vash helped.

 

Truth be told Vash couldn't have been happier. The tension in his veins was gone by now (or mostly anyway) and all he had to worry about was his brother. But to his amazement, Knives was healing much faster than expected, especially faster than Vash ever did after he was shot. The wounds might still leave small scars, but they were thankfully nothing marring like Vash's old ones. He was happy about that. He never did like the idea of shooting his brother, even if, at the time it had to be done.

 

And yet he wondered. There was still a lot to be nervous about. He shifted his footing and sighed, glancing down at his brother as his smile faded. Sitting there in the light of the window he actually looked relaxed, like a man contemplating a future concern but in no way rushed to see it solved. He had taken a shower this morning, the resulting towel of which was slung over his shoulders, still damp. He hadn't put on a shirt yet though he had on a pair of loose fitting pants and his golden blond hair glittered with water droplets as the suns rays struck it.

 

“Finally,” he whispered. “Rem, it's over.” A flicker of movement at the door caught his eye and he grinned from ear to ear, raising his hand in greeting. “Hey Meryl.”

 

The insurance girl had stopped on her way out of the kitchen to check up on Vash. Ever since he had brought Knives home, back to this little town they had stopped at, she had been walking on eggshells. She sighed. It wasn't his fault but mostly hers. She trusted him more than he actually knew and understood how important Knives was to Vash. That was what gave her the nerve to walk into the room when Vash wasn't around and keep an eye on his long lost twin brother.

 

The worst feelings came upon her especially whenever Milly tried to help. Her partner had too good of a heart- Meryl wasn't sure what she might have done to Knives if he had killed someone she loved. Wait. Her thoughts whispered. He didn't do that.

 

She sighed miserably. She had to keep her anger in check a lot and her words- she knew that not all of them were based upon fact. But Knives had been a crucial part in the death of Wolfwood, even if he didn't directly become involved. It pained her to see the sadness in Milly's eyes whenever she tried to come close to Vash's twin. But whenever she asked Milly would only say that it was nothing.

 

And then there was Vash to worry about. She still had strong feelings for the ace gunman and she knew deep down that it would never change. But her lack of courage in admitting it to him…well that was another thing. It was during those times that Milly became the wisest person she had ever met and advised her on what to do. But as of late, because of Knive's healing and Vash's concerned thoughts for his brother, she wasn't sure if she could come right out and say it.

 

C'mon Stryfe! The little voice inside her head said. Get a hold of yourself. It's just three little words.

 

She groaned and muttered, “Three little hard-to-say words.” But as she made her way to the room where they had put Knives and Vash, she paused, her eyes spotting the gunman through a small crack in the doorway.

 

He looked as he had all those nights ago when she and Milly had accidentally interrupted him after a shower. Back then she had been ignorant to all the pain he suffered over the years, but looking at him now she saw every scar and imagined some story that went with it, smiling as she realized that every scar was either the result of his carelessness or his compassion for all living things.

 

Still, this time was different.

 

She was pleased to see that he seemed more relaxed. His aqua colored eyes were more gentle and full of hope- a hope she desperately pleaded wouldn't be taken from him any time soon. Ever since his return, a new energy had come back to him. His smiles were absolutely genuine and beautiful. Sure he could be a worrisome idiot but he was also returning to the innocent, donut-eating, peaceful side that she fell in love with.

 

I really hope Knives doesn't ruin that either.

 

She'd hate for him to have a sudden relapse. Those few days after the incident with Legato had been terrible, the hardest time in her life for her to bear. Somehow the thought of him suffering anymore was worse than the thought of her doing so.

 

In fact, Meryl was grateful for the moment she was given to watch him in peace. That was why she nearly jumped out of her skin when he turned and addressed her. Sheepishly, she opened the door, muttering an apology, her heart pumping loudly in her chest.

 

“I'm sorry, I didn't know you were getting dressed or anything. I'll come back in a few minutes.”

 

“Meryl, wait.”

 

As she turned on her heels to go she felt him reach out and grab her wrist. She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder questioningly, embarrassed now that she was up close. Really, did he have to look…that good? She inwardly groaned. “Um. Lunch is almost done…I need to-“

 

“I wanted to talk to you,” he said, cutting her off and standing. “Ah…it's…about Knives.”

 

“Oh.” Meryl glanced at his twin on the bed. He looked at peace. “Is something wrong?”

 

“Um…no, well, ah, maybe.” He sighed. “It's just. I wanted…to thank you and Milly. You've been helping me out a lot and I know I haven't had time to really return the favor.”

 

“Vash,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It's okay. Don't worry about it. We don't mind. How can you expect to take care of your brother anyway when you can barely take care of yourself?”

 

“Hey!” He whined. “That's mean! I can take care of myself just fine,” he pouted.

 

“I can see that,” she mumbled, looking at all the various scars that adorned his body. She smiled and they both laughed a little at the small joke. For an instant their eyes connected- his aqua marine met her darker depths and lingered. The moment broke only when Vash turned away, just when Meryl thought she saw something flicker in his eyes.

 

“When he wakes up..um..I want to be the first to talk to him, okay?”

 

She returned her gaze to the white-haired blonde on the bed. That made sense. Knives would probably just shoot her or Milly first and then demand answers from Vash later if they tried anything anyway. “Is he that close to getting better already?” She asked, though she already knew the answer. She had seen those wounds herself, and had been amazed at the speed at which he was healing. Nobody had ever healed that fast, not even Vash.

 

“Yeah, er, I have this feeling that it's gonna be soon,” the outlaw replied honestly. He glanced at his brother and nodded, more certain. “Pretty sure actually.”

 

“When he wakes up...” Meryl began before she caught herself and stopped. She wasn't sure if she should phrase it the way she began. But what would she and Milly do? From all that she understood, Knives more than likely would never tolerate either of their presence in the household, or ever at all if he could help it.

 

“Don't worry, I'll take care of him,” Vash said. His gaze was still locked on the sleeping form of his brother. She looked up at him and felt a twinge of that tension return in his body. “That's why I want to talk to him first.” There was a second's pause after he said that until he suddenly grinned and turned on her. “So what's for lunch, short girl?”