Archive of Our Own

Footsteps sound on the wooden floor. Vash stifles a giggle as the footsteps get louder and louder near his hiding spot.

“Where are you, Vash~” Mom sing songs, her melodic voice heard loud and clear by Vash.

Vash covers his mouth, can’t help but shake his shoulders a little.

Mom’s voice carries her disappointment. “He’s not here …”

There’s the sound of footsteps pattering out followed by the sound of the door clicking shut. Vash looks in the dark of his hiding place and waits for a nice ten seconds, making sure mom is really gone.

No other noise heard, Vash slowly pulls his hand away from his mouth, quietly crawling out of the closet -

Only to get grabbed by mom.

“Mom!” Shrieks Vash as he is wrestled into his mother’s arms, laughing and giggling as he tries to wiggle away.

“Nu-uh! None of that for you, Vash! It’s bedtime!” Mom tuts, pinching his cheek and dodging his swaying hands as she carries him to his bedroom.

His twin brother Nai looks at him blankly from his bed, his tired voice asking. “You finally caught the outlaw, mom?”

Vash obediently crawls under the covers, letting mom kiss his forehead, loving the smell of her flower shampoo from her long black hair. Mom then turns to kiss Nai, answering. “Sure do. Please look after the outlaw for me, Nai?”

Nai mumble-nods, Vash watches with eager eyes as his brother nuzzles into his pillow and closes his eyes. Mom pats his head of light-blond hair before turning back to Vash, a stern finger bobbing his nose, causing him to giggle. “Be a good outlaw and sleep tight, no snacking in the kitchen!”

Vash nods. Mom smiles before walking out, shutting the lights off with a hush “Good night, my angels.” before closing the door.

Vash lays in bed awake, not getting any shut-eye as he looks up at the glow-in-dark stickers on the ceiling. There are planets and moons and stars in yellow light glowing, and Vash turns his head to look at Nai, who appears to be slumbering.

But Vash knows better.

“Psst! Nai! Psst!” He hisses.

It takes him a few more hisses for Nai to grumble out, sounding weary. “Go to sleep, Vash. Tomorrow is church.”

Vash is literally vibrating underneath the covers. “No, you have to listen to what happened today!” 

That has Nai opening one aquamarine eye. He asks, sounding both annoyed and emotionless. “What.”

Vash props his chin above his pillow, whispering excitedly. “Someone confessed to me today.”

Vash has the pleasure of witnessing Nai’s eyes widen in shock as he scrambles to sit on his bed, his mouth agape as he deadpans. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, the universal sign of no and Nai flits his eyes all over his face, as if searching for any lies.

“You’re not joking.” Decides him, then his face shifts into calculating rage. “Who was it? Ella? Adele? Emma? Noelle? Hanna? Victoria? That girl you shared your lunch with? Or is it -”

“It’s Ludwig.”

That has Nai’s face stuttering in shock. “Huh.” Narrowing his eyes, he asks suspiciously. “Did you turn him down?”

Vash nods. Nai sighs with relief. “Good. We’re too young for romance anyway.”

Leaning on his elbow, Vash whispers. “I think mom won’t mind.”

“Yeah, but I do.” Nai shots back. “Ludwig isn’t good for you, he picks his nose and doesn’t tuck his shirt in.”

Vash muffles a giggle. Nai’s protectiveness is occasionally suffocating, but sometimes it’s just good to watch his brother worrying over his well-being.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like blonds.” Confesses him, he already has the brightest shade of yellow in the universe as his hair, he really doesn’t fancy another blond in his life except for Nai. Mulling over it, he wonders what kind of hair colour he will even like. He imagines a colour similar to the night sky. “I think I want someone with dark hair, like mom … “

He stifles a yawn. “Taller than me …”

He closes his eyes. “A strong nose …”

He mumbles. “Maybe brown skin too …”

The last thing he hears before falling asleep is Nai’s begrudging low commentary. “You’ll get your ideal tall, dark-haired, brown-skinned and strong-nosed man someday. Good night, Vash.”

As Vash sleeps, Nai frumps his pillow, beating it up to make it more comfortable. He watches Vash’s chest rising and falling, feeling oddly in peace at the tranquility of his brother’s face. He stifles a yawn himself, turning around so his back is to Vash, curling in a ball and hugging his blankets tight.

His dream goes like this.

He’s in a spaceship. How does he know? He just knows. He’s dressed in something tight, he’s holding someone’s hand. Vash’s. He doesn’t need to look around to know. Vash smells oddly sweet, like mom’s flower shampoo, but then he himself smells the same too, except it’s bitter and fresh like the peppermints he once chewed.

He’s in a spaceship. He’s holding mom’s hand. He’s staring at many glowing pods lined up in front of him.

He’s in a spaceship, he’s -

The sound of screaming wakes him up.

Nai gasps, groping the covers underneath him as he turns wildly to Vash. Vash is screaming, thrashing in his bed and wrestling with the covers. Nai doesn’t freeze in shock, scrambling to his brother’s bed, trying to navigate through the twist of limbs.

“Vash! Vash! Calm down!” Nai shouts.

Vash continues to thrash, his loud screams raw and animalistic. Nai takes hold of his arms, pinning him down. He grits out, “Vash, look at me!” 

Vash stops moving altogether, then slowly and ever torturously, he opens his watery eyes. “Nai?” He whispers, lips trembling.

“Shh, Vash. It’s just a nightmare, okay? Just a nightmare.” Nai tells him gently, trying to reassure him.

Vash shudders, closing his eyes. “It - feels so real.” He puffs out. “The fire, the burning, Rem -”

His eyes flick open again, and this time, Nai can see the glimpse of real fear before Vash continues to scream. Nai struggles to hold him down as Vash punches and kicks, avoiding the sudden powerful blows by a hair’s thread. Vash screams, raw.

“Don’t touch me, Nai!”

Nai freezes from shock, and that’s enough time for Vash to kick him in the ribs. Gasping, Nai removes his hold, arms clenched around his body as he folds himself. Vash scrambles away from the bed, falling on the floor.

With tears of pain in his eyes, Nai wheezes out, a trembling hand stretched out. “V-Vash -”

“Don’t come near me!” Vash screeches hysterically, crawling to the corner of the room, further from Nai’s reach. His eyes are stricken, pupils blown in panic and he lets out a wrenched sob as they meet eye-to-eye.

“Don’t - Don’t hurt them, Nai-”

Gasping, he buries his head in his knees and screams.

Mom comes thundering in, flicks the light switch on as she runs towards Vash’s cowering form. Nai can only watch in agonising silence as she holds his little brother in a hug, Vash sobbing and shaking like a leaf as mom peppers kisses to his head, reassuring him with the utmost care.

She only halts when a small voice wrecks out.

“I - Is that you, Rem?”

Nai can’t see what is happening, still too taken aback to even lift a single finger. But he sees the way mom’s back stiffens before she relaxes, hugging Vash tighter.

“I’m here, Vash. Mom is here.”

The only sound Nai hears before he burrows his trembling body under the covers, Vash’s pillow deafeningly pressed to his ears is Vash letting out a scream of grief.

Vash doesn’t have the courage to meet Nai’s eyes the next day.

He can’t easily convince himself that everything’s fine. He’s afraid that if he meets those haunting eyes again - he will remember Nai’s laughter as he stands above the wreckage of the destroyed fleet ship, with falling burning debris raining in the night sky akin to beautiful shooting stars.

He stays quiet, ignores Nai’s worried glances. They don’t speak or exchange any words, the car ride to the church is silent and Vash apologises internally as Rem tries to drag him into a conversation, only to fail as he doesn’t respond.

Rem - what a blessing it is that she’s their mom in this life, but it’s a curse too. Vash’s eyes linger on her, trying to commit the long black hair, the kind eyes and the constant smile in his memories as if she’ll disappear the next second Vash casts his sight away. 

His throat clamps shut at the thought. Please, no.

The church is a familiar sight in his current life’s memories. Vash sits at the end of the pew, still trying to brush away Nai’s inquisitive stare. The priest drolls on and on, on what, Vash can’t focus on any of it. He has his fists pressed together instead, head tilted down as he prays for any imaginary god out there to never take this calm peaceful life and taint it with sorrow.

His prayers might have been answered as soon as, a few days after, he can look once again into Nai’s eyes and crack a joke. A few weeks later, he can talk to Rem about something simple as donuts without bursting into tears. Vash buries the vivid memory of his dreams in the furthest crevice of his mind, bouncing back to life as usual.

He should have expected the opposite - that his prayers aren’t answered. That there’s no god or deity out there that will hear and answer his pleas.

It’s quiet in the classroom. Sitting at the very back beside the window, Nai spins his blue pencil in his hand, bored as he answers the simple math questions on the given paper. He fastly finishes them, using the free time to doodle a few lightning bolts on the edge of his paper. Pouting at his handiwork, he turns his head to look outside the window instead.

The windows are low and devoid of metal rails considering it’s the ground floor, giving enough view for Nai to watch as Vash’s class plays football on the huge green field. He easily spots Vash, his golden hair shining as he laughs, running with his classmates to chase after the ball.

Nai can’t help but smile in fondness. Vash being happy always makes him happy too, he thinks it might be because of their twin connection. They know each other’s thoughts, emotions and actions as easily as breathing.

As if on cue, Vash turns to lock eyes with Nai. He waves an arm cheerfully and Nai waves a small hand back, Vash visibly brightens even from such a distance before going back to participate in the game.

Nai watches as Vash has his fun while he’s stuck in math. Not that Nai’s complaining, he finds socialising a tiresome affair suitable only to people with boundless energy like Vash. Not only that, but seeing Vash as his usual self gives such needed relief to Nai’s hidden anxiety.

He’s afraid to admit to himself that he was scared when Vash broke down in their bedroom that night. Afraid to admit that he couldn’t stop shaking even when mom rocked Vash into a fitful sleep. It wasn’t his little brother that he always protected from danger. Vash was someone different that night, someone who didn’t find comfort in Nai’s touch and it horrified Nai to the point to which he couldn’t help but wonder if Vash’s brain was starting to be having problems mentally.

Right now, he looks normal and Nai feels relief drowning him whole. That’s his little brother Vash on the field, a sunflower in the midst of grass; happily socialising and being active outdoors. Nai is content to stare at him like this, only when Ludwig approaches does he feel irritation crawling in his veins.

Ludwig, the sore loser who confessed his feelings to Vash - of course Nai remembers. His point still stands that Vash is too young to mull over the most complex feeling of all time; love, which Nai doesn’t understand a single bit about. His eyes narrow as the blond gets closer to Vash, appearing to start a conversation that has Vash’s too extroverted heart easily swayed to join in.

Nai can feel the irritation starting to show on his face as Ludwig gets more confident, reducing the distance between him and Vash. Vash lets him because of course, he’s that dense. How does a twelve-years old know how to flirt, anyway? Can’t his parents teach him common decency?

Nai’s veins explode when Ludwig touches Vash’s arm.

Stay calm, stay calm, stay calm. He repeats the mantra inside his head. He watches with hawk eyes as Vash looks confused, his eyes flitting to where the contact is happening. Then, in a split second, he tears his arm away from it.

Nai would have been victorious if not for the blood-curdling scream Vash let out.

It’s familiar, too familiar and Nai doesn’t waste a second as he wrenches open the window and jumps out. He sprints towards Vash after he lands with an imbalance on the dirt, ears ringing and heart thundering as Vash crumples to the ground.

“VASH!” He shouts his name, but Vash doesn’t respond, only sobs coming out from his mouth. Nai reaches him, notes his ashen face and holds his shoulders tight. “Vash! Vash! What’s wrong?!”

It takes time for Vash to answer, stuttering out with pain. “A - Arm hurts.”

The irritation comes back again after being temporarily shelved, Nai turns to glare murderously at Ludwig, spitting out venom. “You. What did you do to my brother?”

The kid has the audacity to shake his head, pretending to be innocent. Nai is ready to stand up and plot his murder, only for Vash to burst out. “Nai! It’s not his fault!”

Nai turns to him, a flimsy excuse waiting to fall from his tongue. However, Vash faces him head-on, eyes desperate and full of hope although he’s sweating and holding his pained arm. It’s easy to choose his priority, and Nai gives a harsh glare to Ludwig, making him back down from fear before he says to Vash.

“Let’s go to the infirmary.”

“N-no, I’ll be fine!”

“You’re hurt, Vash.”

‘I’m okay, Nai! Really!”

Nai, more pissed than ever, coupled with worry, snaps at him. “It isn’t the time to be stubborn, Vash!”

Vash has his mouth open to retort only to clamp it shut as a teacher hurryingly rushes towards them. “What’s this ruckus?”

“Everything is fine.”

“His arm is injured, sir.”

The teacher blinks, then he takes a quick look at Vash’s obviously hurt form and decides that Nai’s words are the exact truth. “Come on, to the infirmary. Your arm doesn’t look good.”

Vash looks ready to protest, but is cut off as Nai immediately jumps on the opportunity to get actual medical care for him. The teacher escorts them to the infirmary while speed-dialing their mom, mom immediately picking up the call and telling them she’s quickly on her way. 

Nai doesn’t feel Vash casting guilty glances at him.

“There’s nothing wrong?”

Vash squirms uncomfortably in the chair as Rem questions with disdain. Nai beside him shares the same unpleasant expression as Rem, glaring daggers at the doctor in front of them.

The doctor repeats, appearing done with them. “Yes. There’s nothing wrong with your son, Mrs. Saveram.”

“We’ve been to four medical centres for all of them to diagnose the same thing. My son is in pain, there’s something obviously wrong with him!”

Vash doesn’t try to correct her, the first few times he had tried, Rem hadn’t believed him, especially when the pain of his severed arm came again randomly to convince her that there’s definitely something wrong with him.

There is, but it isn’t what Rem thinks.

“Mrs. Saveram.” The doctor tries to explain. “We had tests done on him. No broken bones, no other injuries. Based on these results, he appears to be a normal healthy boy.”

Vash feels Nai bristling beside him, he quickly puts a hand on his knee, trying to reign him in. Nai casts him a look of surprise, and Vash smiles, trying not to give a sign that the delirious pain of losing a limb was caused by his brother in a life only he remembers.

Nai doesn’t suspect a thing, going back to his pensive, cold self. He’s still giving the doctor a look of extreme distrust, Rem not helping as she inquires, tone a bit cold. “Then can you tell me what’s wrong with him?”

The doctor finally looks resigned. “Mrs. Saveram, I’ve told you many times. There’s nothing wrong with your son. Unless the pain is caused by his brain.”

There’s a frozen silence, a period of time where Vash nervously goes through. Rem’s tone is now ice incarnated. “Are you implying that my son might be mentally sick, doctor?”

“It is a possibility.”

Vash dares to look up, and Rem’s face is flushed red with anger. She abruptly stands up, her chair screeching from the harsh movement. She says, teeth gritted. “I have no time for a doctor who spouts nonsense. Let’s go, boys.”

Nai follows her retreat at the next possible second, his face the same stormy rage as Rem’s. Vash hesitantly follows, giving a short bow as an apology to the doctor before hastening, not wanting to aggravate his brother and mother.

The car ride back home is suffocating. Nai’s still angry on his behalf, and despite Rem’s cool expression, Vash knows she’s secretly battling her inner turmoil. Vash fidgets in his seat, tries not to flinch when the pain hits again. He bites his lips and turns his head to the side so no one can see his expression.

It hurts so much. In the end, he can’t help but let out a whimper, Nai snapping his head to look at him with the gaze of a hound.

“Are you in pain, Vash?” He demands.

Vash bites his lower lip hard enough to taste metallic blood. “Just … please give me the painkillers, Nai.”

He is quick to grab the stashed painkillers in his bag, popping one out from its casing for Vash to take. Vash downs it with water from his own bottle, tries not to focus on the dulling phantom pain in his body. Painkillers were rare and expensive back in his past life, so this is a luxury for him.

He guesses some things won’t change as another throb of pain hits him. As he squeezes his eyes shut, he tries not to think of Brad and Luida, of his home, of Nai cutting his arm -

They’re just memories.

They won’t hurt him.

Nai can’t sleep.

There’s a lot of reasons why he can’t fall into the welcoming hands of slumber, and most of those revolve around his twin brother, who is sleeping peacefully in his bed, a silhouette in the dark.

However, there’s a slight minority of other reasons, and they’re all related to himself; to Nai lately being haunted by these vivid dreams. They feel real, colours and voices and everything - but as soon as he wakes up, he doesn’t remember a single thing about them. They stay, permanently building a home in his thoughts, coming out of their sanctuary during times like this, when everything around Nai is quiet and gentle. Nai notices it happen starting on the first night of Vash waking up screaming, and even when there are few nights where Vash can throughout sleep without any disturbance, Nai still gets hit with these glimpses of dreams and hurtling motions.

It never stops. And Nai worries.

He wonders if he’s starting to lose it. He hurriedly dismisses that thought, telling himself that everything is just a coincidence, a consequence of him trying to swim against the tides of these stressful happenings. He will be alright soon, for Vash’s sake, he must be alright.

Everything’s fine. 

Life moves on. Time flies past. Vash gains more memories.

It’s a cruel repetition.

As he gets older, he remembers more about his life. About No Man’s Land. About his long years of living. Of Nai. Of Millions Knives.

He remembers all of the blood on Nai’s hands, he remembers himself scarred and shot and stabbed and he tries not curl into a ball of trembling pain whenever he remembers those sensations - Vash remembers dry weather and scratchy sand, dinky taverns and inns, the smell of gun oil and gunsmoke. Years on the run.

It’s too much, but Vash manages.

Even when he feels his mind breaking slowly, he powers on. He remains the same Vash Saveram, always smiling and optimistic. He makes friends, jokes around, chatters with Nai and gardens with Rem. He’s living his life like usual because this must have been a second chance of life, right?

He’s wrong.

Oh, he is so wrong.

Every Sunday, in a home of a god he doesn’t believe in, he generously gives out many silent prayers- please don’t take them away from me, please don’t let me curse upon them a terrible fate, please let them be happy. 

He should’ve known that faith is a fickle thing, that he will never experience true happiness and contentment in a life different than before.

It’s a normal summer Saturday. Sweating from the hot weather, Vash wobbles towards the kitchen, grabbing a popsicle out of the freezer. He tears into it, chewing the iced concoction, tasting sweet mango while letting out a sigh of relief. Leaning on the counter, he tries to find entertainment for his eyes to look at, satisfaction heavy in his limbs.

His gaze stops at the calendar pinned on the board. Rem bought it from her weekly bonsai club, she loves to keep her days organised and the trait is passed down to Nai, who always has his future plans detailed to the most molecular level. It’s different for Vash, he does his own thing when the mood fits, and the most occurring mood happens to be severe nostalgia with Vash being crippled and swallowing noises of pain from the baggage of memories unloaded onto him.

He’s lucky for now. Vash hasn’t had a flood of memories invading him for a few weeks now, it’s enough time for him to sort through them, allowing him to not drown in the heavy sea trying to drag him under.

Sighing, he rips a chunk out of the popsicle, letting the biting cold ground him. Lazily, he looks at the calendar, reading any important events written and dates circled on it.

The name of the month doesn’t tip him off at first glance. But then it hits.

July.

Vash blinks. The floodgate of memories opens again.

Red. Red. Red. Red red red red red red redredrdredredredredredredredredredred - they were screaming, they were running, they were - he was running, he was screaming, he was suffocating - of a disaster ripping tearing through them like paper - everything was wet - he was drowning - he was crying - he was sobbing - he was screaming, an arm morphed into a weapon, a brother laughing with joy or pleading desperately, a sky painted with blinding lights - he was screaming - he was breaking - he was -

Vash feels tears running down his face, he looks down at his hands. And between blinks he sees a metal hand, a pair of normal hands, and he sees the first drop of red. Then he blinks and blinks and blinks and blinks and the red grows and the red grows and the red grows and the red grows until another blink and it’s dripping from his hands like a pool of waterfall.

A visceral snap, and his sanity plummets.

The last conscious thought he has before he’s crashing and submerged deep in the thirsty, ravaging sea of his memories is a scream full of anguish.

The Vash Nai knows has always been vibrant.

A spectrum of bright colours wherever he goes, always laughing and smiling and grinning. There’s a memory of him twirling in a field full of sunflowers, appearing one with them as they accept and dance with golden petals. Nai adores him as Vash is a bundle of sunshine and a little brother coaxing him out with gentle hands and soft words.

The Vash Nai sees right now is not that.

The hospital room is colourless, pale and depressing. It’s not a place worthy of entrapping Vash inside it. But then, Vash himself has lost all of his colours. 

It’s only been a day after Nai received a teary phone call from mom. That Vash had collapsed and was brought into the hospital, very important news to have Nai cancel his participation in the botany expedition to Southeast Asia and embark on a red eye straight away to Germany.

He’s gross, he’s smelly, he hasn’t eaten anything beside stale plane peanuts but his unkempt appearance is shoved away as he takes in Vash.

Vash is drowning in the hospital gown, his usually golden hair looks matted. There’s a far-away look in his eyes and he’s babbling, words jumbled and lost in the far distance.

Horrified, Nai can’t move. Beside him, mom sniffles. “He’s been like that since he woke up.”

Nai forces himself to move. But he can’t, mom holding his sleeve tight. “Please, be careful.” She begs, shiny eyes pleading. “He’s hurt the doctors before.”

Nai tastes bile in his throat. There’s too many things wrong with what mom said, but he swallows them all. “Don’t worry, mom. I have faith that he won’t hurt me.”

Mom lets him go, and Nai turns away from those hopeful eyes as he approaches his little brother.

Vash doesn’t hear his presence, fixated on his hands as he keeps on mumbling. Nai stands near him, trying to search for any miniscule sign that Vash has noticed him. He doesn’t, still mumbling, the words Nai unable to make out.

He tries to get his attention. “Vash.”

Vash doesn’t look up and Nai’s heart sinks.

Nai’s thinking of another way to catch his attention, but then Vash is looking up at him.

Relief floods him and Nai can’t help but smile, “Vash -”

A glimmer of recognition, alighting those eyes again.

Vash lungs towards him.

Nai hardly feels the claws raking up his arm as everything breaks into chaos. He’s heaving, dropped on the floor as mom screams. There are loud footsteps and medical personnel pinning down a struggling Vash, he’s screeching and crying, Nai belatedly notes. Mom is by his side at an instant, trembling hands pulling Nai up and away from the twisted thrashing body on the bed.

Nai follows, his mind blank and heart heavy.

Mom’s sobbing, Nai numbly leans onto her. He doesn’t know how long they’re pressed this close in the empty corridor, only that as mom’s sobs finally dissipate to hiccups, Nai has the barest feeling back in his body.

Mom holds his arm up, showing Nai the injury. Four claw marks starting to bead with blood, Nai flinches when mom touches them, not feeling the early sting in his haze.

“We should get you treated.” Mom whispers, stroking his face.

Nai casts his eyes down. “What will happen to Vash?”

Mom stiffens. Then, she searches his eyes. Watery ones meeting cloudy ones. “They’re putting him involuntarily for treatment.” She answers, pained.

Nai’s heart sinks further. He wants to protest, but stops himself at the sight of mom. She looks older than before, her usually bright demeanor gone, replaced with a single mother of two shouldering all the problems in the world.

He reluctantly lets go. Let his words get stuck in his throat.

They keep seeing Vash everyday. With each visit, mom looks feebler with hope.

Vash recognises mom. Vash always cries in her embrace. Vash recognises Nai. Vash always tries to attack him to the point of him receiving strict orders not to aggravate the patient.

Because that’s who Vash is. Not his little brother. Just a patient.

How can I fix him? Nai questions with each waking moment. How can he bring Vash back, fix his broken self, solve his problems? How can Vash feel safe with him? He takes a wild turn, poring over psychology books until the late hours of night at his table, a blanket always draped over his sleeping form. He learns more and more, he calls experts, he buys more books, he goes to classes, he tries to come up with a solution to help Vash, to bring his little brother back.

It’s during one of those nights when another solution comes up. Nai sees mom clasping her hands tight, praying. When he asks her, demanding just what putting faith in a higher being can do to help Vash, mom only answers.

“You’ll be surprised what faith can offer you, Nai.”

Nai bites his lips, clenches his fist. Then, he kneels beside her, placing clasped hands on his forehead - and prays.

The memories hit him like a sledgehammer.

All that Nai can feel is death as he vomits, memories and memories crashing onto him while doing so. Tears forming, he sobs, puking out until there’s nothing left in his stomach. Pain taking over his body, he’s gasping as he dry-heaves. He can’t stop this torture, not when the final memories hit and he’s clenching the toilet bowl hard enough to crack the ceramic. 

He’s a whirlwind of emotions and memories. Nai is swarmed with them, of Millions Knives, of the lives he had taken, of Vash in his past life; always running and Nai always chasing.

The guilt cripples him first.

He has his forehead pressed to the cold bathroom tiles, the opposite temperature scorching his insides. Nai chokes on air, on the taste of bloodshed and cruelty on his tongue, and cries. Warm tears cascade down his cheeks, his thoughts rampaging.

I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry is this how you feel vash? I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry  i’ve been a horrible big brother i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i never tried to understand you i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry why should you have these memories too? I’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry i love you little brother please i will try to understand this time i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry what’s the point of apologising if you still hate me -

His whole day moves in a blur.

Apologies invade his brain, leaving no room for anything else. He remembers crawling to bed, falling into a fit of tired naps where he finally, finally remembers his dreams every single time he wakes up with a silent scream in his lungs.

He’s asleep this time too, woken up by the sound of the door opening.

“Nai? Have you eaten dinner?”

Mom.

Rem.

Vash’s horror as Rem’s death sinks into him -

The bed dips, and Nai tries not to jolt as a soft hand settles on his head. Kind fingers brush his coarse hair and Nai bites the inside of his mouth, feeling the guilt inside him growing. They spend minutes like this, Nai’s anxiety slowly chipped away with each careful stroke, forced to soften under Rem’s relentless touch.

A soft kiss to his forehead before the confession. “Please, I can’t lose you too.”

Nai sobs inside his heart. Rem closes off the lights, a quiet murmur travelling in the dark. “Goodnight, my angel.”

When the door closes, Nai covers his hand and muffles his sobs. He curls into a ball, his body shaking with tremors.

He’s losing everything at an inhuman pace. His sanity, his emotions, his loved ones. Was this how Vash felt during all those years wandering on the barren planet? When Millions Knives took all the lives Vash held preciously, wrenching them out with no ounce of care. Was this how Vash had felt? Losing a brother to the panic and trauma of emotions?

Vash had wanted to save him before, countless times. Even when Millions Knives refused to, Vash still held hope. In all those years of carnage, Vash remained as a strong beacon. Until it finally paid off.

Nai should do the same.

He will save Vash, bring back the happiness Millions Knives had ripped him off last time, no matter what it takes.

“Punisher.” Nai rasps out. “I hope you’re alive out there.”

Please. Nai begs, remembering his sadistic satisfaction when he sees his little brother’s rage over his stolen life. Vash needs you.

His search begins the next morning.

The Punisher is one human Nai will never forget after all.

Betraying Vash before betraying Millions Knives, Nicholas D. Wolfwood is memorable. He had an attitude problem, an addiction to smoking and an allergy towards authorities. The Punisher was loyal to the church first, but then he found a better purpose in life to pursue in the shape of Vash.

Other than that however, Nai remembers because of the jealousy. Nicholas was one of the many humans Vash met, but he was one of the few whom Vash genuinely cared for not because he was a human, but because they cared for each other. 

Millions Knives hadn’t known the extent of emotions and relationships; of how they can be finely crafted and refuse to be torn apart. He had been blind to them, an ugly splotch amidst the beauty of humanity. Nai had learned, had known, and had been exposed to a world of them in this life. He knows the ties of a familial relationship and of a brotherly bond, he finds out emotions unknown to him before. He finds out love.

Nicholas had loved Vash and Vash had loved Nicholas.

And Nai had ripped that away.

He tries not to choke on the guilt. He has no doubt that Nicholas is Vash's remaining salvation, someone whom Vash will never forget.

Nai searches the internet, loading multiple websites and reading many digital results. He pulls out old phone books, tries to find any name that can be linked to Nicholas D. Wolfwood. He goes out, dials his contacts, tries everything -

But there’s no trace of him.

Trembling, Nai has his hands on his face. He sucks in a sharp breath, ignoring his falling tears.

Please.

Please be out there.

“Do you remember Nicholas, Vash?”

Vash doesn’t answer him. Doesn’t acknowledge Nai’s sitting form.

Nai slouches, refuses to let out tears of frustration.

It’s worth a try.

He keeps on searching and searching. Until there’s one point where Rem brings up the topic.

“Please, Nai. Move forward. For Vash.”

Rem doesn’t, Nai can see her eye bags, her cheer gone. It takes him weeks to agree.

He stops searching.

Nai physically moves forward, although his mind is stuck in the time slot of losing both Vash and Rem. He enrolls in psychology in a university nearby, becomes a top student for the next two semesters and turns down any social invitations throughout all of them.

He comes as cold, uncaring to the students and his professors. Nai can’t refute them, not when Vash is still cooped up in his mental prison and Rem is in mourning for losing her bright son.

Nai doesn’t have the time to search for an alternate way of curing Vash, but he has the time to pray. Hands clasped, never losing faith for a miracle to happen.

“W-Wolf … wood …”

Nai freezes, he turns to Vash, watches as Vash’s eyes glimmer. A light of sanity in dead eyes.

Vash rolls, twists around, wide eyes wild. “Wolfwood? Wolfwood? Where are you?”

Nai sucks in a sharp breath as Vash turns to him. He jumps in his seat when Vash grips his shoulders tight, eyes pinning him. “Nai, have you seen Wolfwood?”

Nai tries not to react violently at the sound of his own name. How many years had passed since Vash had called him? His mouth dries at the question, brain whirring to understand what the hell is going on -

He stops thinking when Vash tumbles out of bed. A strangling noise in his throat, he forgets to punch the call button as Vash shakes and shakes. “W - Wolfwood? Are you here? Wolfwood? Wolfwood?”

Nai stands, walking carefully towards Vash’s kneeling form as he begins to mumble.

“You were sleeping on that couch, Wolfwood. Where are you, Wolfwood? Where are y -”

He catches sight of the door, open.

Nai reacts immediately, dashing towards the door as fast as he can, knocking the stool off balance. It crashes at the same time Nai reaches the door, slamming the door shut and locking it just as Vash slams his hands on them.

Vash pounds, the door shaking with each wreckage of his fist. “LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT, NAI! I HAVE TO FIND HIM! I HAVE TO FIND WOLFWOOD!”

Vash keeps on screaming at the top of his lungs, calling out the name of the man with desperation and tears in his voice. He calls and screams until he breaks it off with a heart-wrenching sob, sliding down the door and landing on the floor.

“Please. Please. I have to find him. I have to bury him before it’s too late. Please. Please. Wolfwood. Wolfwood. Wolfwood. Wolfwood, don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. I’m smiling. You like it when I smile. I love you, please don’t leave me. Wolfwood. Wolfwood. Wolfwood.”

Back leaning against the door, Nai slides down. He hugs his knees, buries his head in them as he gasps out a sob, beginning to cry alongside his little brother’s chants of the one man he loves transcending a lifetime.

Staring at his cup of coffee, Nai looks at his reflection in the rich brown colour. He’s lifeless, he concludes as he leans on the counter of his floor’s kitchen. The dreams of his memories have never stopped, but now they assault him heavily again, making him lose sleep that is needed to fuel his ongoing academic streak. He’s been able to stay awake and function by consuming an unhealthy amount of caffeine, so he knows he’s a few cups away from a heart attack if he doesn’t pace himself.

There’s a few other students in the kitchen, but they give him a wide berth, to which Nai appreciates. He knows he looks like a literal zombie, scaring them off and usually he will keep a pleasant nice expression but right now, he can only worry about Vash.

There’s obnoxious cheering outside from where the TV is located. Nai would have been annoyed if he wasn't still stuck in his thoughts. Instead, he sighs tiredly, rubbing a hand on his closed eyes as he shuffles out of the kitchen.

He takes a few heady sips, appreciating the bittersweet taste lingering in his throat. He sees his floormates watching a sports programme. The screen’s showing an analyst talking about the results of a sports competition, playing a recording of a motorcycle crossing the finish line.

“- trophy of his debut year. Nicholas Wolfwood of Spain has proven himself as an up-and-rising star in the motorcycle racing scene. We’ll be looking forward to his performance for tomorrow’s Grand Prix -”

CRASH

Nai barely realises his mug dropping on the floor as fucking Nicholas D. Wolfwood pops up on the screen of the television.

There’s nothing different about him. He’s tall in his tight gear-up, he’s ruffling his dark hair, his brown skin glistening with sweat as he puts on a pair of sunglasses. He rubs his strong nose as he notices the camera zooming on him.

It's edited footage as they skip the part of questions. With a crooked grin in place, he leans to the mic. “Just wanna say thanks to my family, friends and fans for supporting me. Without all of them, I won’t be here.”

Another edited skip, and Nicholas is now saying something else. “I started off motorcycle racing because of someone important to me. This victory is for you, Spikey.”

The interview ends there. As Nai stands there dumbfounded, he can only eye-ball the television screen.

“Saveram, you alright?”

That has him snapping back to reality. He looks down and sees the shattered pieces of his favourite mug strewn on all over the floor. Then everything kicks in and he’s running out of the kitchen.

He reaches his laptop in record speed, booting it up from sleep mode. His right leg jumping, Nai drags his cursor to a new webpage, immediately typing in Nicholas’s name.

The search results have him biting his tongue.

Spain’s newest rising star; Nicholas Wolfwood -

Unstoppable on the tracks? Sports Analyst -

The Punisher Strikes Again! 

Q&A with Nicholas D. Wolfwood -

Nai clicks on it, letting the website pop up on Youtube. The title and language spoken in the video is Spanish, Nicholas speaking it fluently, but Nai manages to find English subtitles in order to quickly glimpse the interviewee’s part of How did you begin your career?

Nicholas laughs. “I had a calling, if you can call it so. I started my career as a means for someone I hold dear. He’s always been by my side, so my teenage self thought once, ‘Let's have a future in motorcycle racing!’ Just for him, and there was my family’s support and my friends cheering me on. So, here I am!”

You were called the Punisher, what are the origins of the name?

“It’s a silly story. You see, my dearest’s brother came up with it -” Nai’s stomach plummets, Nicholas can only be talking about one brother. “And it just stuck.”

Nai lets all the other questions and answers run through his brain. At the end of the video where it ends with the interviewee wishing Nicholas luck in his next competition, Nai can only think of one thing.

You remember. You remember him. You remember Vash.

You are searching for him too.

Nai doesn’t even think as he clicks open another website, quickly navigating it through, putting all the details; his personal information and his card number. Then, he empties his bagpack’s contents onto the bed, stuffing it with the necessities he needs for his impromptu trip. After doing so, he zips up a jacket and laces his shoelaces tight, kicking open the door to stride out, making his floormates nearby jump in surprise.

One of them speaks up, taking in his dressed get-up. “Saveram? Where are you going?”

Before Nai leaves, he gives them a decent answer. He says. “Hauling my brother’s boyfriend’s ass from London.”

He stomps out.

The flight is excruciating. Nai is cramped between a mother with a crying baby on her lap and an old man with bad breath, the person in front has their seat leaned too back and there’s no room for Nai to move. Nai had kicked them multiple times.

The only distraction is the load of videos he had downloaded while waiting to board. All of them are about Nicholas, and Nai had learned a lot about this Nicholas’s life. A childhood spent in poverty, affecting his upbringing as he caused a handful of discipline cases in his schooling years until it all started to change sometime during his teenage days. Nai theorises that was when he retrieved his memories back, of his life with Vash.

Debuted internationally less than a year ago, bagging trophies and wins that hold the entire sports world in shock. A killing machine on the tracks, a seeming newbie at first until he had beaten the scene’s number one in his first try. His motorcycle is a model Nai doesn’t recognise, painted in the colours of his once-and-again weapon Punisher. Without a doubt, this is Nicholas, the human - the man his little brother had given his whole heart to.

Nai can’t help but laugh at that. His neighbours give him weirded-out looks, but Nai doesn’t care at all as he breathlessly laughs. 

The Punisher always came up with interesting solutions, his I’ll-do-it-my-way behavior a pain for his underlings to handle. Turns out, in this life, he’s doing it for all it’s worth.

Faith. You have faith fame will lead you to him.

Nai bitterly smiles.

Nicholas isn’t sure what to feel when he stumbles upon Millions Knives outside the bar.

He had gotten 3rd place, a not so bad win for his career, especially when they’re talking about the Grand Prix here. He still has many chances to obtain a legendary win, he’s still considered as a newbie for everyone in the scene after all. But of course, that’s not the point of participating in the first place, of him revving a motorcycle, hearing its purr and losing himself in the memories of blistering suns and harsh wind.

Only Livio knows why he started motorcycle racing in the first place.

When Nicholas first started, he had a tiny fear that things won’t go according to his plans. That he’ll do this only to never achieve his ultimate goal, that Vash won’t remember him, won’t remember those adventurous days as they run from town-to-town on his motorcycle, avoiding bounty hunters and duelling gunmen, of sharing laughter, pain and love in their seemingly endless journey.

After letting the feeling settle in, Nicholas had found the fear absurd. He held faith Vash would remember him, held faith in this life that they can be together too, that one day in the near future he can hold his face between his hands and kiss him apologies for leaving him behind. They will both cry, Vash is a crier after all, and Nicholas will cry too as he has been given the chance to meet the angel of his life again.

Now that his twin brother is miraculously here, Nicholas doesn’t know what to do.

“Punisher.” Knives begins.

The alcohol inside him dissipates at the familiar tone, Knives haven’t lost his authority even in a seemingly normal life. Nicholas gives him a wary look, the lollipop clamming inside his mouth. He doesn’t know why his old boss is here, and Nicholas thinks he deserves to be on guard around him after all the things he did to Vash and Nicholas himself.

There’s silence as Nicholas refuses to speak. Knives is looking at him, eyes heavy and tired. He groans, covers his face with his hand and shakes his head. He obviously doesn’t look composed and Nicholas can hear him loudly thinking, a trait the twins share it seems.

Sighing, Knives looks up. His light blond hair shines under the low streetlamp, and he says. “I will say this straight. I remember.”

That has Nicholas stiffening. Blurrily, he remembers himself being the only one to actually remember. He had gone insane when the memories first started to appear, drifting in a run-down church and staring ahead with nothing in mind, going back to his life in reality only when a younger Livio had begged him to not lose himself. These days, he rarely thinks his memories might be fake, not when the people in his previous life keep appearing in front of him.

Knives takes a deep breath before admitting. “Vash remembers.”

Nicholas jolts. The lollipop falls to the ground, but Nicholas doesn’t care as he grabs Knives by his coat lapels, hoisting him closer, any suspicion about him fading as he demands. “Where?! Is he here?!” He looks behind Knives, hoping to find a shock of blond hair or garnish red in the dark of the alleyway.

He doesn’t and feels disappointment dropping in his gut. Surely, Vash won’t just let his twin brother go around and find Nicholas alone. Vash will search him himself without the help of Knives, he won’t do so unless -

Nicholas feels cold blood running through his veins. 

Growling, he lifts Knives closer. Knives is worryingly light; it'll be easy to throw him like a ragdoll. “What happened to him? Where is Vash? I swear if you lock him up in some place, I’ll punch you, Knives.”

Knives’s face darkens. “Down, boy.” He says, tone icy. “You want to know where Vash is right now? If so, put me down, Nicholas.”

He resists the urge to really punch and throw him. It’s only the thought of Vash not being happy with him that has him dropping his hold on Knives, watching with satisfaction as Knives wobbles on his feet, finding balance on the ground in the dark.

Nicholas folds his arms. “Now talk.”

Knives grimaces, a small expression that has Nicholas narrowing his eyes before Knives straightens, his eyes as cold as the tone of his voice. “Vash’s at the hospital.”

Nicholas’s heart drops. Before he can ask a question or commit his current greatest desire to shake Knives until he spits out the reason why, Knives interrupts him. “He’s been there for years. For treatment.”

The next answer has Knives’s voice trembling, a barely there shake betraying his anxiety. “He had been getting his memories back since he was a kid. One day, he broke down and he’s been like that ever since.” Knives leans into the dark, casting shadow over his face. “The last time I visited, he called out for you.”

Nicholas doesn’t notice that he’s shaking until he’s asking. “He did?”

“You devoted yourself to him, Punisher. He loves you unlike any other human he had.” Something flashes in Knives’s visible eye. “He only called out for you.”

It goes unspoken. Millions Knives had once been a cryptic being, untouchable for humans to comprehend, but the Punisher had spent years in the presence of his twin brother - and he could conclude that despite their differences, their trains of thoughts remain the same as each other.

He remembers you. 

Don’t leave him this time.

Nicholas grits his teeth, regretting the absence of the lollipop inside his mouth. Instead, he locks eyes with Knives.

“Bring me to him then.”

Nicholas had been fifteen when the memories struck him.

He was haunted by them, a lifetime of memories that were drowning with depravity and sickness. The drugs injected into him, the anguish of losing Livio to the hands of his tormentor, the absolute self-hatred as he punished those who stood in the church’s way. He was a walking sin, a killing machine disguised as an immoral priest. 

But then, there’s him.

Too pure for this world, too stubborn to change his ways, too determined to fix all his mistakes. Too self-sacrificing. An angel in this miserable, blood-soaked land.

When Nicholas sees someone with blond hair, all he can think about is their hair didn’t shine in the sun like you.

When Nicholas makes someone smile, all he can think about is they didn’t smile with radiancy and warmth like you.

When Nicholas finds someone with blue eyes, all he can think about is they didn’t have eyes of the skies like you.

When Nicholas meets someone that reminds him of Vash, all he can think about is where are you?

I’m here. As he stands in the spotlight for the first time.

I’m here. As he signs his contract.

I’m here. As he lets the familiar nickname roll off his tongue in front of the camera.

All of the efforts pay off as Nicholas finds himself in the same room as him.

His phone had been ringing a lot, especially after Livio had called him to ask why a fan captured a photo of him with Knives embarking a plane to Germany. Nicholas didn’t know where to begin, too absorbed in the reality that he’ll meet his angel after years of desperate searching. In the end, he had hung up, not saying a single word and tried not to be guilty silencing his phone.

He hadn’t spoken a single thing, not until Knives left him in this hospital room alone after giving him a harsh glare.

Nicholas doesn’t have it inside him to feel offended, not when Vash is there sitting on the bed across the room.

His golden hair is dull, his blue eyes lifeless and there’s no smile etched on his lips. Despite those, Nicholas recognises Vash, that this person is his angel who saved him from his own damnation. If Vash even goes as far as changing his whole identity, Nicholas will always recognise him.

So, Nicholas reaches out and holds Vash’s hands. They are smooth and warm, and Nicholas leans in to touch their foreheads together.

“I found you.”

Droplets of tears escape from his eyes, landing on Vash’s cheek. The angel underneath him blinks, a slow motion that might have taken hours or several sunlit days. Those adored irises begin to well up, a pair of mirrors reflecting the bright sky. A small hitch jumping in his lung, seizing out of his throat and captured by Nicholas’s gentle touch.

Vash descends into tears, a painful sob ripped out from his lungs as he stares at Nicholas. He doesn’t speak, but Nicholas can see the question in his eyes nonetheless.

“I’m real.”

Another heart-wrenching sob, and Vash howls. Nicholas slides his hands up to his face, cradles it as Vash buries himself in his embrace.

“You’re real. Wolfwood. You’re real.”

“I’m real. I’m here. Spikey. Needle noggin’. Vash.”

“P - Please, please don’t leave me again. Please don’t leave me again.” He blubbers, his shoulders shaking. “I can’t live without you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Nicholas breathes in his hair. Vash smells like medicine and clean linen, but underneath them, there’s that lingering scent of sunshine and love, familiar no matter where the wind carries.

“I will never leave you again. Never will.” He says. 

It’s a promise.

 

your scent and the way you talk

 

even now, I can feel pieces of your fragmented love all over my body

 

my wish, my only wish

 

is that somewhere, you’re crying, too