𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘳

Chapter 18. Rose Coloured Boy

*EEEEEEEEEEE sorry it's a short chapter.

Everyone had cleared out by the end of Vash's maniac display. I guess people will believe anything when there's sixty billion dollars on it... but seriously, how can you buy that?

Men were still left behind, holding their guns cautiously. "Hold your fire, but do not lower your guns!" a man calls. Their officer, I guess. They quieted down at the man's words and whispered among themselves.

"I look like a dumb school girl," I say, pulling my gun from thigh.

"Yes, an edgy one. Shouldn't have given up your coat," Vash says with a slight grin, then begins singing. "Massacre-massacre! Bloody one! Dee dee dee, doo doo doo. Not a single survivor!"

"Shut up, please."

"Okay." He pulls out an explosive, making me jump. He tosses it, and when the dust clouds pass from the explosion, he's gone. Leaving me. Thank you.

Wait! No it's not! I thought we were working together?

"Vash!" I cry, chasing after the boot marks. I scuff them away in my wake, coming hot onto his trail. A trail of an idiot blazing like a maniac straight to the steamer. I pause, realizing they stop at the wall of the steamer and look up. "How the hell did you get up there?!"

He's madly charging for the hatch, where a gunman pokes out, his aim trained on Vash. The moment he is ready for his shot, putting his finger on the trigger, the rifle is gone in an instant. Vash is on the hatch lid, sitting in it like an egg-chair, kicking the gun way out of range, and slamming the man down cold.

"One down..." I say, reaching for the next ledge as I've hardly made my way up the ship. He has long legs, it is an unfair advantage. And he's down the hatch.

I swing onto the top, my sweater greased. I head for the hatch quickly, dropping down into a hall of beaten-down guys. I step over them, spinning into first class where I hear chatter.

"Revy, no!" Vash warns but it's too late. Machine guns open fire.

Except, that's not quite how I work any longer. If I had run in blindly like that, it would mean death. But I'm standing in the hall, with a small glimpse of red coat wedged in the corner of a room. I duck, slipping in behind luggage.

"How'd you know?" Vash whispers.

"Why haven't you got rid of them yet?! I almost died!" I whisper back.

"What do you mean 'almost died' you dodged getting shot with fifty frickin' bullets like a psycho!"

"You mean psychic-- Yes I dodged those bullets, you heard a' fuckin' nothin' I just said," I snap, just to save myself from revealing a little too much about myself. We're not friends still, right?

Right?

I light a cig, blowing away the smoke purposely in the direction of the bunch of shooters behind us. "Let's see..." I puff smoke from my lungs, choosing my side. "I bet y'all are about to be done in by the man in the red coat. I've never lost a bet too, so you should watch it."

"What game are you playing?!" a guy hollers.

"Yours, of course. Not one of you represent very sensible adults, after all..." I remark, looking over at Vash. He slowly closes his eyes, his gun hand reaching out of his cover and marks each man's shoulder as practice. Then he fires for real, marking every one of the luggage cases in the room and they knock each man over. Ace gunman, no joke.

One man left, and his hostage is brutally shoved to the ground.

"Stop it!" Vash yells, pointing his gun at the man.

The man eyed him out of the corner of his eye, before returning to nervously staring at his hostage. "If you're going to shoot me, do it," he says.

"Why would I do that?"

The man paused, a bit confused by his answer. "Who are you with?" he demands. "The Feds?"

"No."

"Then what right do you have to be nosing your way into other people's business? This man right here... the loser deserves to die," the man says. "This man killed my daughter!"

"This man killed my sister," I add, pointing to Vash. "Can I talk before you're wanted for a lifetime of crime, and a guilt-tripped drunkard in the streets?"

"I don't care, they can take me in after this, I wanna end this man's life for what he did. He shot Aleen, dozens of places, right? You made her suffer-- violated her and it was horrible! You think I should let this man live?! No, he deserves to go through hell and more!"

"You're right," I say, getting a very disapproving look from Vash. "That's what I wanted, right? I tried it, vengeance the whole thing. I let it eat me alive and boil my blood, but I kept think what the hell did my sister want. Did she want a war, for her sister to drag herself through hell and pull another man through it just to feel good? Being a murderer puts you in the same boat as the ones you loathe, right? It's not justice if it's just you. Your daughter, she never intended on being a murderer, hurting any body, so why the hell are you putting her name on your sick murder and sullying her pretty standard? You blow through his head and you'll blow your way into hell, and never see your daughter again, especially since she wasn't at all in it. It's what you want, and all it does is continue to rattle her bones and dishonour the dead. Not to mention, it'll probably happen to another girl like your child just because everyone wants vengeance and to drag war on. Send your griefs, not your bullets. But hey, you can go down that road a shoot the man if you like. It's not my business."

I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck. "Man, I went on for a preach there. What happens when you're drunk. My friend here hates the sight of death, so have fun."

Just then, the real feds storm into first class and grab everyone, putting them down to the ground with their arms behind their backs. I don't complain, I knew they were coming. And right on time.

I look at the baffled Vash. "You were just going to let him shoot? You were going to let him kill that guy?" Vash asks.

"You wouldn't know what it's like to avenge family, not when you enemy is your own. You've never even thought like that, cause you're a pussy. But so is that guy, there's no way he's putting another bullet in this war," I say.

Without question, we are taken to the jail house along with the man. It's only a couple minutes before Wolfwood crashes in on his motorbike and knocks out the guards.

"Where's my bike, dumb priest?" I demand. "Did you at least have the courtesy to park it outside since we're making an escape?"

"Yes! Get out, you two!" Wolfwood orders. He glances at the man. "You too. You should go home to your family."

"Aw, you really are nice--" Vash begins.

"No!" Wolfwood pushes his gloating face away. "I really am not. I think you see the world through rose-coloured glasses. One day will come where you really will have to choose, since you keep pushing it."

I sigh, taking the cigarette pack from Wolfwood's pocket. "This world is kill or be killed."