Chapter Text
Vash doesn’t know where he is. From what he can make out, he’s on some sort of ship, and there’s a terrible thrumming from within and all around him. Voices almost, like his sisters but different.
He shivers and pulls his bloodied cloak closer. It’s dark and cold here, just like before. Everything hurts and he’s so dizzy.
Just minutes ago, he’d been reunited with Nai. Their first meeting since…
Since after the Fall. Only a few years had passed but enough that Nai looked so different, handsome and a little lanky as they both were, entering what the humans called their teens.
Nai had been so, so angry.
And hurt.
Vash has never seen him like that before. At least, not since Tesla. Nai’s probably still angry, wherever he is. Vash needs to go back to him.
Nai did something so bad last time, Vash can’t imagine what he’ll do now. He’d already cut down so many of the workers…
Nai had tried to kill Luida.
After everything Vash tried to do to atone for their shared sin, Nai just—
Vash wipes his eyes on the back of his hand. No, but Nai had tried to save him.
Vash would’ve been the one to kill Luida, kill all of them if Nai hadn’t cut off his arm. Vash has never, he’s never done that before but he doesn’t need to know what that was to know it was bad.
That swirling emptiness, the sheer nothingness of what came out of him. For a moment, Vash had been pure destruction. Death as a body.
And now, Vash is somewhere else.
He tries to stand, swaying on his feet. His entire left side is drenched in blood, cooling quicker than he expected.
He tears off a piece of his cloak with his teeth, grateful that it’s tattered enough to rip, even as weakened as he is. His jaw tenses, bearing the pain as he ties it tight around the stump of his arm.
It should hurt more but his head is swimming with voices. He can’t see their source but he feels them.
Maybe if he could get to them, they could show him the way and, maybe, he could go back to where he was. Vash could fix all of this. He just needs to try. He could stop Nai, maybe get him to understand, and they could help the humans, and make everyone happy again.
Vash leans against the railing of the wall, barely hanging on as he follows the sounds. The thrumming only gets stronger and stronger until he senses something, someone, so familiar he staggers forward with a cry.
“Nai?” Vash calls out, blindly stumbling through a pair of great double doors.
An enormous ship room opens up before him, greeting Vash with a beautiful nightmare of a sight.
Hundreds, no, thousands, perhaps millions of angels, surging from their nests with their hands and wings reaching out towards him. They glow brilliantly, casting the ship in their own haunting light. Vash can barely understand them with the sheer volume of their chattering, like a cacophony of morning birds, singing in forgotten tongues.
And in the middle of it all, there’s Nai.
He’s not—he doesn’t look like any version of Nai Vash has seen before. Tall, broad shouldered, still handsome but older. Much, much older, perhaps more than a century, even if he looks like a human man in his prime. He’s wearing something strange, black and white, lost technology maybe, but without the familiar blues and grays Vash is used to.
There’s a sense of power simmering in Nai’s veins, threatening to tear through his skin, like a beast bathed in moonlight. Nai is feathering, an angel himself. White wings sprout from his arms and sway in tandem with the chorus around him.
But, Vash isn’t afraid.
He doesn’t need to be told to know that’s his brother. His soul knows it, that this man is his, from the beat of their twin hearts, Vash knows.
The face Nai makes when he spots Vash is twisted and ugly, marred by decades of hurt.
Nai’s still mad at him.
“What’s this, Vash? Returned so soon?” Nai says, sounding bored though his expression reads as a sneer. “Is this some sort of new scheme of yours?”
“Wh-what?” Vash startles. Nai’s mad at him, sure, but he’s never sounded so mean.
“Wh-what?” Nai repeats back, mocking.
Vash doesn’t understand. “Nai, stop,” he says, taking another step forward.
Nai doesn’t stop though, still wearing that expression Vash is beginning to hate. Nai crosses his arms and gazes down at Vash’s bloodied mess.
“You’re bleeding. Where’s that fancy arm of yours? I don’t know why you still insist on wearing something so primitive.”
“What?”
Nai huffs a laugh, bitter and full of spite. “Are you ill? Is that why you look like this? You let those filthy humans touch you again?”
Vash can’t take it anymore, all of Nai’s strange and unfamiliar words, like daggers to his already aching heart.
“Shut up, you did this to me!” Vash rushes forward, intending on pushing Nai with all his might but he barely makes contact.
Surprise flickers across Nai’s face, so quickly that anyone but Vash would have missed it. Nai isn’t easily taken though, stepping back to lift Vash by the waist.
“Let go!” Vash thrashes, head spinning as he feels more blood leave the stump of his arm.
“You’re not from here,” Nai says, but it almost sounds like he’s talking to himself more than Vash. His voice is soft now in a way Vash remembers, but more… Grown up, like Brad, and it makes Vash feel little, like the way Luida makes him feel little. Like he’s a child.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Vash protests, sniffling.
Nai doesn’t reply. He carefully sets Vash down but he doesn’t let go, reaching to cup Vash’s cheek. Nai turns Vash’s face, looking at him this way and that. Vash lets him, preferring for Nai to touch him like this instead of spewing the hateful things he’d been earlier.
Up close, Vash can see a little streak of black in Nai’s hairline. It suits Nai, makes him look kind of cool and even more handsome, like the characters in Nai’s favorite cowboy movies.
Vash wonders if they age in reverse, blonde hair turning black and pretty with the years. Vash’s hair is still blonde with some brown on the underside, but he hopes his hair turns just as black as Nai’s. The color reminds him of Rem, though he tries his best not to say that out loud.
“You’re not my Vash,” Nai finally says.
Vash blinks, chest searing before he can even think about it. “Why-why would you say that?” Vash’s voice breaks at the end. He has no idea what Nai is thinking.
Going off of how Nai looks, a lot of time has passed, but Vash has always, he’s always thought of Nai as his brother. Even after the Fall, even after Nai had done that to Rem.
“Shh, shh, there’s no need to misunderstand,” Nai tells him, thumbing away the tears from Vash’s cheeks.
“Are-” Vash sniffles. “Are you still mad at me?”
Nai shakes his head, smiling softly though there’s a sadness in his eyes that Vash can’t explain. “Let’s do something about your arm first, shall we?”
Knives gazes at the boy beside him. It’d been difficult to coax the poor child to come with him, but in the end the boy braved it all, shedding not a single tear when Knives treated his wounds. He even ate the medicine Knives gave him, obediently taking little kitten sips until he fell asleep.
It's funny in a sick kind of way, to know that even in another life, Knives would cut his brother’s arm. Looking back, Knives knows that perhaps it was a little childish of him but Vash’s betrayal stung like nothing else. Even now.
The humans already take so much from them and Vash just allows them to take from him, take from Knives.
And how was Knives supposed to know that Vash would settle for that dingy little scrap arm? It’s not like Vash couldn’t heal it with the aid of their sisters.
Or even better, Vash could let Knives absorb him, and they could both be whole again. Though that was a twisted dream out of a children's fairytale.
Knives sighs, gently grazing his fingers along the boy’s cheek. His skin is still so soft, unmarred by the world’s cruelty. The boy is delicate, a little yellow wildflower, tucked away in the meadow of Knives’ bed.
The child's hand is curled up in his pillow and his wrist is so small, Knives could take him between his thumb and forefinger with plenty of room to spare. Knives can’t believe he and Vash were this tiny once. So fragile and yet they’ve come so far, even with the whole world against them.
Knives can easily imagine what the boy must’ve said to Knives’ other self to cause all this. Maybe it’s because Knives is older, but he finds it a bit cruel of his other self when this Vash still seems so innocent.
Well, Knives’ Vash is innocent, but willfully naive. This one is just too young to understand. He can’t help it, just like their sisters, frail and sweet, wholly dependent on their slavers. And by the brown underside of the boy’s hair, it seems like he’s been used like the rest of them. He’s definitely not a fighter, not yet, if his softness means anything.
Knives runs his fingers through the boy’s hair, marveling at the feathery strands. He’s as beautiful as Knives’ Vash, but there’s so much darkened hair.
Knives struggles to restrain his anger, not keen on frightening the boy.
The child isn’t even a third of their age but he’s more worn than both Knives and his Vash combined. Knives doesn’t know who to blame—the humans or his other self for allowing them to touch their Vash.
Or maybe that’s what had caused the fight between the two, though Knives had only found out about their lifespan recently. Regardless of what happened, it’s savagery. The humans don’t dare expend their own children in the same way.
Knives releases a shaky breath and smooths down the boy’s hair, tucking away the proof of his defilement. Knives will not let him suffer any longer, even if this Vash belongs to another.
“Nai?” The boy blinks blearily, reaching out to hold Knives’ hand.
Knives’ expression easily softens, and he lets the boy hold him. He doesn’t know how the other Knives got Vash to call him by such a cute pet name. Knives wonders if they have other sweet things they call each other, like little lovers. What would Knives call Vash, if given the chance?
It leaves Knives a little envious though he can’t imagine his Vash being so childish. Knives doesn't even know how he, himself, would begin, and any of the sweet names he can think of seem too juvenile for his age. That’s the benefit of youth, one they’d lost long ago, perhaps even on the day they first parted.
Vash will only play nice with the humans, rolling over to bare his stomach so they’ll trust him. He doesn’t spare Knives any affection anymore. The only time they show their love is when they fight, though neither of them will admit it. Knives knows the truth. It shows in the way that they have not killed each other yet. They very much could, if they truly wanted to.
“I’m right here,” Knives murmurs, resting his palm on the boy’s cheek.
The boy closes his eyes, lashes fluttering under Knives’ touch. “Feels good,” the boy says.
“Does it? You have a slight fever.”
The boy turns his face into Knives’ pillow. “‘M sorry.”
“It’s alright.” Knives pats his head. “You just need some rest.”
“No, I’m sorry for almost killing us,” the boy says quietly.
Knives huffs a laugh. “It won’t be the last time.”
“Stop, that’s not funny, Nai!” The boy pushes Knives’ hand away but he’s not nearly as upset as before, even if Knives has obviously hurt his feelings. In this way, he’s just like Knives’ Vash, though not as experienced with hiding his emotions.
“Vash, this isn’t your world,” Knives tells him.
The boy sits up with a start, not even wincing when the stump of his arm brushes against the headboard.
“You keep saying that but I don’t know what that means! I know a lot of time has passed and something weird definitely happened but you’re still my brother!”
Knives blinks, at a loss for words.
What he’d give for his Vash to be this desperate for him again, not like what they’re doing now, always fighting, running and chasing, playing stupid little games while Knives tries to fix things and Vash tries to undo him.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” the boy asks, gripping the sheets like Knives will make him go.
Knives smiles sadly. “It’s nothing, you just remind me of forgotten times.”
“Do you—do you want to forget?”
“No, I never said that. Vash, I wasn’t trying to be cruel when I said this isn’t your world. I suspect something happened on your side and you traveled dimensions. I don’t know how, though I’m trying to figure it out.”
“What? But you’re here.” The boy says it so simply, as if it is some fact of the universe that where Knives is, Vash must be also. Knives can’t say some part of him isn’t preening, as if this is proof that his Vash feels the same as he does.
“Do you remember what happened before you came here?” Knives asks.
“Um,” the boy looks down at his lap, suddenly shy, or maybe afraid.
“It’s alright. I’m not angry at you. As you said, a lot of time has passed.” That’s not entirely true. Knives’ Vash fills him with such immeasurable grief, and in that, so does this Vash. But Knives won’t blame the child for scars he doesn't know of.
The boy takes a moment to think it over, and Knives lets him, idly sitting by his bed.
“We were fighting,” the boy starts, carefully choosing his words. “And you were really, really mad at me.”
“Why?”
The boy looks up, doe-eyed and reminiscent of how Knives’ Vash had looked before, when they were children. Full of sweet innocence and soft heart.
“You were–you wanted me to hurt Luida.”
“Luida?” Knives says, carefully sounding out the syllables. “Who is that? Your Rem?”
“Huh? No, Rem is…” the boy trails off before shaking his head, like he’s trying to fend off a bad memory.
Dead, then. Good, Knives thinks.
“No, Luida’s the nice lady that took me in.”
“I see,” Knives says, though he makes a mental note to look into her later, to see if his Vash has someone like that. He trusts his other self to have his brother’s best interests in mind, and if he saw this Luida as a threat, then in this life, she must be one too.
“I was scared, and then this thing came out of my arm. It was like–it was like those videos of blackholes we used to watch and everything was just getting sucked into it and I-I couldn’t control it and then you, you–” the boy stops with a gasp.
“And then I cut your arm off.”
“You were trying to protect me.”
“Yes,” Knives replies, he knows that's true even if it wasn’t really him there. “Then what happened?”
“I-I don’t know.” The boy runs his fingers through his hair as he tries to recall, and it’s a surprisingly adult gesture, even if he’s just mimicking what he’s seen. “My–my arm went flying and then it was dark and I ended up here, I guess.”
Knives hums. That must have been the boy’s gate but Knives has never heard of anything like it, at least not from Conrad. It’s something to think about though Knives has no intention of asking the boy to call his gate again. The boy has already used up so much of himself.
“You really don’t remember?” the boy asks.
“I have my own Vash here. We are of the same age and much older than you,” Knives says, not unkindly. “We fought recently. You’ll have to forgive me for thinking that you were him in some sort of disguise. I thought it was another of his distasteful jokes.”
“Oh.” The boy hangs his head and Knives finds him endearing. He’s sweet, Knives knows this, because he is Vash and Vash would be sweet in every lifetime.
“Do you hate each other now?” the boys asks.
Knives laughs, though it comes out darker than he intended. “No, I do not hate him. I love him so dearly it pains me. I’d like to believe that he does not hate me either. But you’re right to say that we aren’t on the best terms.”
The boy goes quiet, taking in what Knives has just said. They must be more similar than what the boy thought. It’s a complicated thing for Knives to explain but what he’s said is the truth, and he hopes the boy can understand, that in Knives’ heart, there is no lack of love for Vash.
“Worry not, I don’t intend on sending you away,” Knives says gently.
“Okay.”
“You may stay for as long as you like.”
Indulgent, but Knives will not allow him to wander into the desert. It’s dangerous outside the Ark, and the humans are hurting for more plants. Their depravity has reached new depths, murdering and raping without cause. Who knows what they’ll do to the boy, and what the boy will let them do in his childish naivety.
“I have to go back,” the boy tells him.
Knives tenses, of course the boy does, and Knives doesn’t know where his Vash is.
There’s just a sliver of worry that there might’ve been an exchanging of places. But, Knives doubts it. They’d lost track of his Vash a few weeks prior. His brother did love to conceal himself so. It wouldn’t make sense for the boy to have appeared back then, not with the state of his wounds.
Yes, Knives has his own Vash but it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth that this Vash will eventually leave him, too.
“Your brother must be looking for you,” Knives says instead.
“Maybe,” Vash mumbles.
“If he and I are one in the same, he is looking for you. That much I can promise you.”
“I left him, after the Fall.”
“He crashed the ships?”
“Yes,” Vash replies quietly.
Knives laughs. “Good boy.”
“Nai!” Vash looks so distraught, Knives can’t help but reach over and ruffle his hair.
“I know,” Knives murmurs. He doesn’t miss how Vash leans into his hand. Funny, he’s touch starved, just like the rest of them. “I’m not going to apologize for it, or for him. I did the same here. I only wish I had succeeded. He failed too, didn’t he?”
Vash nods slowly. “Rem took control and a few of the ships survived.”
“Meddlesome woman.”
“How could you say that about Rem?!” All the timid shyness from before is gone, grief and sorrow twisting the boy’s face.
Knives takes an unsteady breath. He doesn’t want to lose his temper on a mere child but Vash is so good at prodding all the wounds Knives tries to nurse.
“Tell me, Vash. Did Rem commit the same sins in your world as she did in mine?”
Vash goes quiet, shrinking back against the headboard of Knives’ bed.
“Here, she tore our sister apart, studied her like an animal, and subjected her to countless atrocities in the name of science. And what did they learn? It was almost as if they dissected her for their own amusement.”
“Nai-”
“Tesla was years younger than you when they defiled her, and you’re still just a child. Do you think I could love a woman who sees my family as tools?”
“Nai-”
“Vash.”
“Rem said it wouldn’t happen again,” Vash says. He almost sounds desperate.
“And you believe her? She tried to hide it from us. Why?”
Vash goes silent, biting his lip. He won’t meet Knives’ eyes but that’s okay, it was hard for Knives to comprehend, too.
“If I had been older, stronger, I would not have allowed her to touch you or any of our sisters. What lack of heart does it take for a person to even think about doing such a thing?”
“Nai-”
“How do I know for certain that she had not been waiting for us to ripen for the taking? And how many others before Tesla? How many after us?”
“Nai!”
“What?”
“Nai, your arm,” Vash says, softly now.
Knives looks down to the feathers sprouting from his skin, humming with energy and curling into little sickles, ready to protect what is his.
Knives sighs and flexes his hand, finger by finger, joint by joint, trying to calm the will of their sisters. They feel his grief as much as he feels theirs. Centuries of injustice flow through Knives’ veins and he remembers, he remembers.
“Do not be afraid,” Knives murmurs, offering his arm for Vash to touch. “I am connected to our sisters. They know you are our brother. They will not harm you.”
Vash hesitates, but only for a second. He reaches out with curious fingers, grazing the insides of Knives’ many small wings. “It’s soft,” he says, awe obvious in his voice.
Knives smiles. “You don’t have to be so gentle. I’m not made of glass.” He flutters his wings, folding one to wrap around Vash’s finger. “Look, Vash.”
Vash giggles in surprise. He moves to pull away but Knives holds him closer, carefully so he doesn’t hurt the boy.
“Ah, that feels weird!”
“I don’t know what you mean, Vash.” Knives feigns ignorance, wiggling his wing around Vash’s hand. His surrounding feathers reach up to tickle Vash’s wrist, light enough to make Vash sneeze.
“Nai!” Vash protests but he’s smiling for the first time since he arrived. Knives can feel Vash, his joy and his wonder. Knives can feel their sisters, too, their excitement in pleasing Vash, their youngest baby brother.
The dark revelation of their past is put on hold for now and, if it means Knives gets to have Vash like this, Knives doesn’t mind it as much as he should. Vash should learn to be proud of who they are, of what they can do, and of their sisters' blessings.
Knives lets Vash play with his wings for a little longer before releasing him. “It’s been some time,” Knives tells him. “Let me change your bandages.”
“Oh,” Vash exclaims, watching as Knives withdraws his feathers. “Okay,” Vash says, but his hand lingers, touching Knives’ now smooth skin.
Knives chuckles, turning his arm for Vash to explore.
“Your brother, does he still not know how to use his powers?” Knives asks.
“Oh, um.” Vash furrows his brow. Knives has upset him again. “He knows but his are different.”
“Different, how so?”
“He has these claw things that are silver? He didn’t have them before. He–he used them to kill the workers at the power plant.” Vash worries his lip. “I have to go back,” he says to Knives.
Knives doesn’t know what sort of answer he expected but it’s interesting that he and his other self have clear differences, just like this Vash and Knives’ Vash. He wonders if their separation is only cosmetic when this Vash reminds him of his own so dearly.
But, that’s enough questions for today.
“I still need to change your bandages, Vash,” Knives reminds him. He passes Vash a cup of milky liquid. “Take your medicine first. It will help the pain.”
“Okay,” Vash sighs, taking small sips. The medicine is disgusting, Knives knows, but they don’t have much of a choice.
Knives watches Vash drink down the cup. The boy is just so small, like a stressed little bird, and Knives admittedly wants to keep him. And, why wouldn’t he? Vash is everything Knives has ever needed.
Knives will take good care of him, his Vash.
“I had some food brought up for you.”
Vash pulls himself up from Nai’s bed. He’s been doing a lot of sleeping lately. Probably from the medicine but Vash knows it’s good for him with how quickly he’s been healing.
“Here, are you able to eat this?” Nai sets down a bowl of cream soup and bread. Simple but quite decadent in comparison to the scraps of dried space food they’d been rationing back at home.
Vash nods. “Thank you.”
“Aren’t you polite?” Nai says, thumbing Vash’s cheek.
Vash blushes, ducking his head. He doesn’t know why he didn’t realize earlier. It’s things like this that make this Nai seem so different, like an uncle or maybe even a father, though Vash wouldn’t know what that’s like. Luida had described Rem like Vash’s mother and Vash could see it, though he’d never thought to call Rem that—Mom.
Nai tucks a spoon into Vash’s hand, fingers brushing against Vash’s knuckles. “Make sure to eat all of it. You’ll need your strength to heal.”
“I already feel a lot better,” Vash tells him, moving his shoulder to show Nai what he means.
“I wonder,” Nai chuckles, smiling with those little rainbow lines at the corners of his eyes. Vash decides he really likes when Nai sounds like that, handsome and warm. Nai reaches out to touch Vash’s back. “Careful, it’s all the medicine you’ve been taking. The pain would be unbearable without it.”
“Oh.”
“That’s alright. Just eat your soup. They haven’t been taking good care of you.”
Vash pauses. That’s right. The others. Vash doesn’t know what’s become of them. Does he even deserve to eat after leaving them with his Nai?
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not hungry.” Vash sets down his spoon.
Nai frowns. “I may not be the brother you grew up with but don’t think you can lie to me so easily.”
Vash flushes, this time from shame. “‘M sorry.”
Nai takes him lightly by the chin. “Are you feeling guilty? Is that why you refuse to eat?”
“I just–it doesn’t feel fair.”
“To who?”
Vash struggles to meet Nai’s gaze. His answer will only make Nai angry and Vash doesn’t want to argue.
Nai sighs out of his nose, but he doesn’t raise his voice, keeping his words as gentle as his touch. “I wish you would allow yourself the things you allow them. If not for me, then for yourself.”
Vash blinks, eyes suddenly hot with tears. He can’t even explain why but his chest hurts and a great sadness fills his veins.
He misses everyone back at home. Even after everything Nai said, Vash misses Luida and Brad, he misses Rem, he misses all the sleeping people on Ship Five, and he even misses his Nai who caused all of this. Everything’s just been so hard, no matter how much Vash tries.
Nai shushes him softly, wiping away a tear from Vash’s cheek before it can fall. “Shh, I know how kind you are to them. How much mercy and grace you show them, even when they doubt you.”
“Nai,” Vash sniffs. He’s too old to be crying like this.
“I know,” Nai murmurs. “You needn’t worry anymore. I’m with you.”
Vash isn’t sure if that’s what he wants to hear but Nai’s being so nice to him, Vash can’t refuse the warmth he provides. He instinctively lets himself fall into Nai’s chest, hugging him close in a one-armed embrace.
“Vash,” Nai says, seemingly taken by surprise.
Vash doesn’t reply, pressing his tears into Nai’s shirt.
A second passes before Nai holds Vash in return, stiffly but careful enough not to bump Vash’s arm.
“There, there,” Nai murmurs, awkwardly patting Vash’s back.
For how long have this world’s Vash and Nai been fighting, that Nai has forgotten how to hug, how to hold and be held? The thought makes Vash sadder, that things might never get better.
“Shh, it’ll be alright,” Nai says, and Vash wants to ask how he knows but, for now, Vash would have to believe him. They both want the same, after all, for everything to be okay.
Vash weeps quietly, taking comfort in Nai's closeness. Nai softly coos at him, and the genuine affection in his voice wrings Vash’s heart in all sorts of ways. How adult Nai sounds, how much younger Vash feels, how different they are.
“Vash.” Nai pulls away to wipe Vash’s tears. Concern creases Nai’s face as he does, reminding Vash of how Rem would look after he’d accidentally bang his knee or fall on his hands. She’d blow on his cuts and scrapes, and press a kiss on them after.
“You should eat before the soup goes cold,” Nai says gently. “You must regain your strength to achieve what you want.”
Vash sniffs, nodding. Nai’s right. Vash doesn’t know how he even got here or how to go back but he can’t do anything with his arm half-healed. One wrong move and he’ll be bleeding out again.
“Here.” Nai returns the spoon to Vash’s hand.
“Thank you,” Vash says again.
Nai nods. “Tell me if you need more. I will get it for you.”
Vash tries to eat all of it, though he doesn’t get to enjoy it as much as he would have, were it any other meal. He knows it’s good food and he feels bad about feeling bad. Nai doesn’t say anything though, simply watching Vash eat.
“I’m sorry,” Vash says.
“What is the problem now?” Nai asks, not unkindly. Nai’s genuine concern just makes Vash feel worse.
Vash sighs. “I’m just eating everything and you can’t even enjoy it.”
Nai huffs a laugh. “You worry too much, Vash. Go on, I’ve already eaten.”
Vash almost drops his spoon. “You can eat?”
“Of course I can eat,” Nai says, giving Vash a funny look. “Do you not need to?”
“No, I do,” Vash says. “It’s one of the only things I can do.”
The warmth drains out of Nai’s voice, “You’re a child. You don’t need to do anything else. Is that something the humans said to you?”
Vash shakes his head, he didn’t mean to upset Nai.
“Then, my other self, he doesn’t eat?”
Vash nods. “He doesn’t sleep either.”
Nai laughs then, and Vash doesn’t know why. “Fascinating, he might be the better one between the two of us. Poor thing. A ripe apple might put him in a less killing mood.”
Vash stares at Nai.
“What?” Nai says.
“You just made a joke.”
“Am I not allowed to?”
“You’re just so serious all the time,” Vash pouts.
“Am I?” Nai asks, smiling. “Perhaps you bring the best out of me.”
Vash blushes, looking down at his lap when Nai ruffles his hair. It wasn’t a funny joke but at least Nai is feeling up to it. They’ve only really talked about serious things and it almost feels like all they do is take turns upsetting each other, even when neither of them intend to.
“Finish your soup, Vash,” Nai says gently.
“Okay.”
Vash eats quietly but he turns redder and redder with each bite.
Nai won’t stop looking at him with those soft eyes, trailing over each of Vash’s movements with ever loving care.
Vash is used to Nai being a little weird but everything feels so…different when Nai looks like this. They’ve always been eye-to-eye, even if Nai was the stronger one, and now Nai is so grown up, handsome and mature, able to tease Vash without taking too much to heart.
“Nai.”
“Yes?”
“Stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“You’re making me embarrassed,” Vash says, staring into his soup. His ears feel so hot, he’s dizzy with it, sensitive from Nai’s gaze.
Nai chuckles, maybe because he thinks Vash is being silly, but he doesn’t seem to understand why. “How so? I haven’t said anything.”
“You keep staring at me!”
“I’m merely making sure my baby brother eats his fill.”
“I’m not a baby,” Vash says, scandalized.
“Perhaps, but even when you grow old, you’ll still be my baby brother.”
“Nai,” Vash protests, flushing. Normally, he’d push Nai away and yell at him for teasing but, Vash might like the way Nai says it now.
Well, maybe it’s because Nai isn’t teasing. He really means it. Vash can tell because this Nai is a lot more serious than Vash’s Nai back at home. And so much older, too.
“Am I wrong?”
Vash doesn’t answer and Nai just smiles at him, soft and adoring.
“Come on now,” Nai says, patting Vash’s lap. “Eat. You only have a few bites left. Any more worrying and you’ll still be holding that bread to tomorrow.”
“Okay, okay.”
Vash still can’t taste the food very well but, this time, it’s from trying his best to keep his fluttering heart under control.