[ Nai is a lot of things, but a liar isn't one of them. Vash's response to this, too, comes without hesitation: ] I believe you.
[ Of course Wolfwood went after him first. Wolfwood knew first hand just how much horror Nai had wrought in his wake, and how much worse things could become, so long as he held on to his insane ambition. Just like Nai, Wolfwood isn't the sort of person to wait and hope for a better outcome -- he's the type to strike before a worse one.
Vash can almost track his path across the room in his mind's eye, and what surprises him isn't that Wolfwood went after Nai first, but that Wolfwood started the job without finishing it. Why?
Vash's gaze drops to the ice pack on his brother's neck, and finally he takes he a step back, shaking his head. ]
You sent him personally? [ Vash's brow furrows, but the flash of pain and regret there isn't what Nai might think. He hadn't realized just how much of Wolfwood's plight was entirely his fault. There's no pleasure in what he says, just weary acceptance: ] Nai... I knew who he was from the start.
[ Not the details, who sent him, or exactly what he wanted, but Wolfwood carried his guilt and regret like he carried the Punisher, and Vash had yet to see him lay it down.
He turns, already moving toward the door. They're not going to get anywhere dragging out this new iteration of the same old argument. ] I'm going to look for my friend now. Try to get some rest.
[ Vash declares that he believes him, as if that is some great gift he's giving him. Knives has to fight the urge not to scowl in response. That feels as if it should be the bare minimum that he might expect from his own brother, from a piece of his very soul, and yet it feels as if he has to scrape for every piece of grace that Vash gives him.
As expected, Vash had known the truth of the Punisher when they first met. He isn't stupid, he would have put the pieces together. Yet he'd still strode his path all the way to July to see him. For a moment Knives wants to ask why, when Vash doesn't ever seem to want anything to do with him, but perhaps he'd intended for it to be a fight.
Perhaps he'd been intending to bring an end to it all somehow.
Vash is leaving. Already, he's leaving. A laugh tears its way from Knives' throat at Vash's words. ]
Friend? You'd call him friend? With the amount of blood he's soaked in? Vash—
[ The door closes in his face. Knives jerks to his feet from the bed, but immediately stumbles. He stares at the shut door, hears the retreating footsteps, and sinks back down onto the mattress.
So it goes. Always and forever, an unending cycle that he'd only wanted to break. He hurls the ice pack against the door and flings himself back onto the bed, then drags a pillow onto his face to scream into it. ]
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[ Of course Wolfwood went after him first. Wolfwood knew first hand just how much horror Nai had wrought in his wake, and how much worse things could become, so long as he held on to his insane ambition. Just like Nai, Wolfwood isn't the sort of person to wait and hope for a better outcome -- he's the type to strike before a worse one.
Vash can almost track his path across the room in his mind's eye, and what surprises him isn't that Wolfwood went after Nai first, but that Wolfwood started the job without finishing it. Why?
Vash's gaze drops to the ice pack on his brother's neck, and finally he takes he a step back, shaking his head. ]
You sent him personally? [ Vash's brow furrows, but the flash of pain and regret there isn't what Nai might think. He hadn't realized just how much of Wolfwood's plight was entirely his fault. There's no pleasure in what he says, just weary acceptance: ] Nai... I knew who he was from the start.
[ Not the details, who sent him, or exactly what he wanted, but Wolfwood carried his guilt and regret like he carried the Punisher, and Vash had yet to see him lay it down.
He turns, already moving toward the door. They're not going to get anywhere dragging out this new iteration of the same old argument. ] I'm going to look for my friend now. Try to get some rest.
no subject
As expected, Vash had known the truth of the Punisher when they first met. He isn't stupid, he would have put the pieces together. Yet he'd still strode his path all the way to July to see him. For a moment Knives wants to ask why, when Vash doesn't ever seem to want anything to do with him, but perhaps he'd intended for it to be a fight.
Perhaps he'd been intending to bring an end to it all somehow.
Vash is leaving. Already, he's leaving. A laugh tears its way from Knives' throat at Vash's words. ]
Friend? You'd call him friend? With the amount of blood he's soaked in? Vash—
[ The door closes in his face. Knives jerks to his feet from the bed, but immediately stumbles. He stares at the shut door, hears the retreating footsteps, and sinks back down onto the mattress.
So it goes. Always and forever, an unending cycle that he'd only wanted to break. He hurls the ice pack against the door and flings himself back onto the bed, then drags a pillow onto his face to scream into it. ]