Chapter 11

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For scene 2 I was listening to theister's piano covers of other anime music, so I added them to the Spotify playlist (they're at the end, and it's only four songs lol) so here's the if you wanna listen :D

We Need To Talk

Vash woke up from the dream - no, memories - with a start. He was barely able to catch his breath when he took note of his surroundings. The white/gray surroundings were a familiar sight.

"Home?" Vash whispered as he stared at a framed photo of ship three's crew on a grass-covered hill.

"Did they save me?"

He looked down at his cracked prosthetic arm, the memories of how he lost it in the first place flooding his mind.

Slowly, as if hesitant he might actually shatter it, he moved his artificial fingers to close, then reopened them.

He let out a small gasp as the door to his room opened with a hiss. He looked up at the noise. A familiar man, now gray-haired with wrinkles across his features, stood leaning in the doorway.

"Hey, Vash. Heard you busted your arm again."

"Brad," the blond greeted with a smile.

Brad walked over, the usual, harsh, pissed-off look that Vash knew was more of a facade on his face.

"Every time you come back, you've messed up my masterpiece," he chastised.

"I- Uhhh..." Vash nervously put his flesh hand up to rub the back of his head. A nervous smile accompanied the short laugh coming from his lips, "I don't have anything to say for myself."

"Come on, show me," Brad gestured to the prosthetic, kneeling down in front of the blond.

Vash immediately handed over his arm to his father figure. Brad looked it over once the arm was in his grasp.

Your blond friend stared down at him, somewhat of a sad look taking over his features.

"You never change, Brad."

"Look who's talking," the man bit back. "Forever young, I'm jealous."

His eyes never once left the arm. Following his once-over, he pulled out a tool and began to tweak some mechanics on it in hopes of fixing the problem. A feeling akin to pinching a nerve shot through the prosthetic and Vash let out a pained noise.

"C'mon, sit still."

Footsteps coming toward the blond's open door turned his attention upward. Luida, also much older, gave him a smile. Voice soft, she welcomed him home, just as she's done countless times before. A small, surprised gasp came from him. Then, a smile.

"I'm home." Then a curious and somewhat concerned look crossed his features, "What about the others?"

Luida had now fully entered the room as she reassured him, "They're safe. Everyone from the sand steamer, the orphanage, and your friends."

"My friends?"

For a moment, Vash felt like he had been worrying for nothing. Four more people appeared in his doorway, varying expressions upon their faces when Meryl greeted him.

"Sheesh..."

"Who said anything about us being friends," Wolfwood said.

"Thank you," Vash replied without missing a beat. "It's thanks to you that we were able to stop the ship."

Something was wrong, though; He couldn't see any green behind the four, so he knew you definitely were not with them. Where were you?

Wolfwood glanced around the room curiously, "Who'd've thought there was a spaceship hiding here in the sandstorm, though?"

Fake It Til You Make ItOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora