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There's a crater in the moon. A wound, one the entire world can see, but Vash doesn't know the shape of it. Not yet.
What he lacks in courage to look his imagination makes up for easily, painting a vivid picture of the damage for him; an indented, perfect circle. An eye he will never escape, celestial judgement cast down onto him any time he's out under the open sky.
What was that old quote? Something an actor said in a moment of blind, romantic abandon?
What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word, and I'll--
Vash keeps his eyes subtly downcast into the prevailing dust shared by every landscape on this planet. It doesn't stop the phantom, oppressive gravity he feels directed down at him, but it makes baring it a little bit easier. To pretend it's not there, just a little longer.
Rem, why aren't there any Plants in the Bible?
She had given Vash's question proper thought before replying, a brief quiet held between them, but her answer is lost to the distant past-- eclipsed by Knives' own theory.
Maybe we made ourselves. Maybe we're the Gods.
As the world keeps spinning, and days continue to come and go, Vash envisions the moon as more than a reflective rock for the Sun's light. Imagining instead it could find a way to return the damage he'd done right back down at him. Scorching him like a malicious magnifying glass finally deciding to take vengeance onto a lone, sinning bug.
Something had to eventually, right?
For how high all the things he's done are starting to pile?
Vash stands before the freshly churned dirt of Wolfwood's grave and lets out a humorless chuckle as his eyes latch onto the horizon. Completely unable to look down any longer and caught between the two tragedies he'd caused in such a short span of time. Eventually, the path of least resistance, the lesser of the two evils, allows Vash to finally tip his head back.
The day washes the moon out, leaving it transparent looking through the planet's dirty atmosphere. Ghostly.
"Sorry," Vash manages the whisper with only a slight wobble of his mouth. "I'm sorry," he repeats for both the moon and the man he thought he would have liked to give it to.