A/N: Extra thanks to Xara and Verdi. You guys are simply the greatest. No questions.

Oh, yeah... I got my laptop back. Rejoice. =)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Disclaimer:

Kuroneko: Nya!!

Hear that, people? It’s nya mine.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Somewhere in time, there is a circle.

Somewhere in time, this circle will be complete.

Somewhere in time, love is forever.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I know it’s probably the wrong thing to do. I know that I should be going to Knives and trying to figure out what’s happening with all of the plants. I know that I shouldn’t be out here in the middle of nowhere, not having any idea how much longer I may live. I also know that I hate riding thomases and always have.

Yet, here I am in the middle of the desert in a far stretch of vast nothingness between Maya and December, reaching for something that I could very well fail to attain. My chest constricts a bit at the thought (at least I think it’s due to a thought like that) and I curl in on myself. I’d always been fairly semi-anxious to die before now. Holding my life as one of the lesser values of my existence, I’d nearly expected it. Somehow I’ve lived this long, though; long enough to see the human race go from dust bowl to prosperous and green, and now I’m not sure if I’m ready to die. Pathetic.

I tighten the large brown cloak-like span of fabric hastily thrown about myself earlier as a large gust of wind blows sand into my face. I mentally thank the fact that I still have a reliable pair of sunglasses, similar to the ones worn at previous times in my life, as the sand patters against the lenses. Looking up, I see that the sky has darkened, heavy, fat, and ominous clouds hovering close to the planet. I’ve seen a storm before; rain and lightning everywhere, wild winds. It was not fun. The storms on this planet get bad, to say the least. I guess that’s why I’m pushing my thomas to go faster than she is at the moment. I don’t want to be caught outside in it.

I wonder why Nicholai left like that. What reason could he have to go to December, and not tell me about it? I know that it was his hometown, so it’s fitting to believe that he should want to return at some point, but why did it have to be now? So many things are happening, all at once. It’s as if my world, once peaceful and serene after returning to my brother’s side, has been thrown into chaos once again, and all over him. A normal person would probably wonder why the hell they’re staying by him. Why they’re putting their potential for being content on the line in exchange for being truly happy. Maybe I should do the same, but I can’t. I’m not the kind of person to question the reasons as to why I’m allowed instances of bliss.

Glancing at the horizon, I notice something strange ahead of me. It looks like... like... I don’t know what it looks like. I squint, trying futilely to look closer, seeing that it appears to be a darker, blurred area. I try to figure out what this could mean as it quickly comes towards me.

Then, I begin to hear a loud whirring sound, almost like a sand steamer’s engines warming up. A startlingly powerful gust of wind hits me, forcing me back just a bit as my thomas stumbles. Then, the darkened, blurred area approaches. "Crap..."

Painful bouts of stinging rain begin to rapidly patter against me and I pull the cloak tighter, sighing to myself. I guess I’m caught in the storm after all. Ever since our water-refineries have been around, the storms have been more frequent. This planet’s weather patterns don’t seem to be accustomed to storms, though, so they’re usually fairly harsh. I guess there’s nothing that can be done about it now, other than to deal with it.

Another sharp gust of wind hits me from the side, once again throwing my thomas off-balance. I hold the reins with one hand and the neck of my cloak with the other, tightening my legs around the creature. This is just another of those things that has been piled on top of everything. I go to find Nicholai, and I find a storm. I could sit here and question it for a while, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere, so I continue on, ignoring the fact that the world is out to get me.

For a long while, it carries on like that, my thomas making its way through the sand turned mud, darkened due to the rain as the wind decidedly continues to try to forcibly remove me from the animal. The foul stench of wet fur envelopes me, blocking out whatever other smells may be around, if any.

Then, I glance towards the horizon ahead, my back stiffening in surprise. Trees. I mentally rejoice, grinning at the fact that where there are trees, there is usually a town. December must not be far off. I hadn’t realized I’d been riding that long.

Sure enough, a few moments later I see the jutting forms of buildings behind the few sparse trees. I give the smelly thomas a slight nudge in the side, encouraging her to speed up a bit, which she does, but only after letting out small grunt of seeming annoyance. "We’ll be there soon, girl." I say reassuringly, giving her a light pat on the neck. She’s obviously not as excited about it as I am. Thomases rented from stables don’t tend care just where you’re headed. They just want their food and to get the reins out of their mouths.

A quick bolt of lightning flashes directly above me, setting alight the horizon for a split second, a large, booming crash of thunder directly following. I jump a bit at the noise, tightening the cloak a bit and mentally willing the thomas to go faster. When the lightning starts is when the storms tend to get worse.

Finally, after nearly twenty large, loud bolts of lightning and a few good nudges in the ribs, my thomas makes her way into the town. I immediately steer her towards the thomas stable, near the outskirts. I jump off, shaking my cloak to get as much water off as I can before wrapping her reins around the tying posts. Walking up the steps, I notice my shoes, once a pristine, shined black, are caked in mud. The metal hinges of the door creak as I open it, a bit of cool wind and the smell of cigarettes being the first thing to greet me. A tall, balding man sits in a relaxed position behind a large desk, reading a magazine. "Some weather out there, huh?" he asks, barely glancing up.

"Yeah, I guess so. I’ve got a thomas outside. Could you hold her for me?" I step up to the counter, rubbing my right arm through the cloak for a bit more warmth.

"Sure thing." He closes the magazine and picks up a pencil. "Name?"

"Vash."

He scribbles it down in the book, not even bothering to say, "Vash? As in, Vash the Stampede?" I’m a bit grateful. "It’s twenty double dollars a day."

“I’ll probably only need to keep her here for a day,” I utter as he eyes the twenty double dollars curiously. I bite the inside of my lip a moment, thinking. Then, I mentally shrug, throwing caution to the wind. "I don’t suppose you’re holding a thomas for a man named Nicholai, are you?"

He raises his eyebrows a moment and then frowns, nodding slowly. "Nicholai Dvorak?"

I nod back.

"Yeah, we’re holding that guy’s thomas. I never expected to see Nicholai back here." He puts my money in the cash register, quickly closing it up afterwards. He points to the book of names and assigned stable numbers in front of him, Nicholai’s name, specifically, with the butt of his pencil. I lean over and glance at it.

"What do you mean?" I ask, removing the hood of the cloak from my head and taking off my sunglasses.

"That guy Nicholai got involved in some trouble in this town a couple years back. From what I heard, his parents were killed." He scratches at his eyebrow nervously, glancing around, and then leans forward just a bit, as if he is about to tell me some sort of long-kept family secret. “They say it’s because he borrowed money and couldn’t pay it back. Poor kid.”

I give him a scrutinizing look, lips parted just a bit as I try to comprehend this man’s words. There’s no way they’re true. Nicholai just doesn’t seem to be that kind of person. I frown a bit, glancing around. "His parents were killed?"

"Yup. Murdered right in front of him when he was only seventeen."

"Oh shit..." I breathe lightly, my throat tightening as a slight feeling of panic washes over me. Things begin to fall into place as reason and deduction takes its place in my brain. "How long ago did he arrive?"

"Only about thirty minutes before you," he answers calmly, either oblivious or uncaring about my state of alarm.

"Do you have any idea where he may be?"

"Can’t be sure, but he might be back at his family’s old restaurant. It’s just down the street, there." He points to his left. "Four buildings."

I nod and utter a quick thank you before I run from the building and out into the rain, which has increased exponentially. Not even bothering to replace the hood over my head, I begin a run down the deserted road, my feet splashing in puddles of murky waters as lightning crashes overhead. I come to the fourth building, my boots sliding as I try to stop, causing me to lose my balance and fall sideways into the mud. Damn. That’s all I needed right now. Pulling myself to my feet, I stumble up onto the porch of the building and through the front doors. The restaurant now seems to be a tavern, with a few casual drinkers here and there and a large man behind the bar.

Not even caring about what an idiot I may appear to be, or the fact that I’m dripping large amounts of water and mud all over the floor, I rush to the bar, leaning against it with my hands. "Have you seen Nicholai?"

The bartender gives me a curious look, slowly cleaning a glass with the rag in his hand. "Nicky? Yeah, he was here. Left a few minutes ago."

"Do you know where he went?"

"Nope." He turns away from me, crouching down below the counter as I frown. This is not going well. I don’t know what I’d expected to find out by coming here, but this was definitely not it. I never imagined Nicholai to be one to hold a grudge against others, but the fact that his parents were killed and he was so anxious to learn to shoot properly are making me believe the worst. Either he’s going to kill himself, which is highly unlikely, or he’s going to get revenge.

I quickly turn from the counter and run from the building, glancing to the left and right and hoping beyond hope that I see him somewhere. As was expected, I don’t see him. “Nicholai?!”

My voice echos through the streets as lightning flashes overhead yet again. I begin a quick jog down the road, pulling the rain-soaked and heavy cloak off and throwing it aside into a puddle. My voice sounds strained as I call out to him again, getting no reply. There are too many streets, too many buildings...

I will my legs to go faster, despite the fact that my shoes are sinking into the sand with each step and giving me hardly any footing. My breathing becomes ragged, panic laced in with each gasp. After a fair amount of running, I come to what appears to be the center of town. I turn in a slow circle, eyes squinting and peering down every alleyway and street, looking for him in what appears to be a futile chase. "Nicholai!"

I hear a loud booming sound and freeze in my spot, trying to convince myself that it was thunder and nothing more.

Swallowing so roughly that I can hear it in my own ears, I close my eyes, knowing that I’m lying to myself. I know what my own gun sounds like when fired. I turn around and slowly walk in the direction of the sound, eyes wanting to close as water drips from my eyelashes.

I turn into the alleyway that I’m certain the gunshot originated from, immediately ceasing my steps. Nicholai stands not far away above a man who is on the ground, a large pool of red liquid flowing underneath him. The gun is lowered to his side, arm hanging limply as water beads down the length of the silver firearm. My mouth falls open as I take in a shaky breath and my vision blurs. I close my eyes for a moment, tears falling that could easily be blamed on the rain. I was too late.

Nicholai, apparently seeing the movement out of the corner of his eye, glances over at me, raising the gun just a bit. He holds it in the palm of his hand, staring at it, and then back at me. "Vash? What are you doing here?" His voice is monotonous and not a bit of emotion shows on his face. For a moment, I simply stare at the man lying dead on the ground, jaw clenched so tightly that my teeth begin to ache, tears slowly flowing from my eyes.

I look away for a moment and then turn back to Nicholai, slowly pulling myself to my feet. I put my hand on my forehead, feeling an intense ache due to unknown sources, before letting out a choked, bitter laugh that is truly inappropriate. I guess I just can’t believe he would do something like that. "Why did you kill him?"

"I..."

"How could you do that?" I straighten up, ceasing the laughing and giving him one of my most intense looks. The lightning crashes overhead, and I see his face clearly for a moment. Eyebrows raised slightly and mouth set in a firm, thin line, I wonder what could possibly be going through his mind.

When he doesn’t answer, I take a few steps towards him, hand dragging along the wall to my left to keep myself steady. I feel strangely weak. "I thought you were such a good person… but you lied to me. You’ve been lying to me this whole time, haven’t you?"

"He killed my parents. He deserved it." Once such an erotic mix of slight accent and husky masculinity, his voice remains calm and flat. I shake my head at him, trying to make myself believe that this is one really, really bad dream.

"That doesn’t matter. No one ever gave you the right to kill anyone." My voice is as calm as his, though it has no right to be. I should be angry, but I’m not. Instead, decisions are going on in my mind, theories and thoughts being put into action. I slowly close the distance between us, immediately taking the gun from his slacked grip. He glances away, not seeming to care.

I step away from him, shaking my head in disbelief that I was such a fool. Maybe Knives was right. Maybe humans are innately evil, selfish, deluded creatures, each one of them believing that they have special rights pertaining only to them. I suppose there is no good without evil, just as there is no light without dark, but why does the bad always outweigh the good? "I don’t ever want to see you again, Nicholai."

He grabs onto the front of my shirt, holding me from leaving. His voice finally conveys emotion as he says, "No, you can’t do that to me…"

I shake my head once more, grabbing onto his wrist and easily pulling it free from my shirt. Holding it back, I take another step away from him. “Yes I can, Nicholai. There are too many things going on right now for me to pile this on top.”

"At least give me a chance to explain, or something. Those people are…"

“I don’t want to hear it! Just…” I do one of the worst things I’ve done in a long time. Something I swore I would never do unless absolutely necessary. I raise the gun, finger on the trigger, and aim at him. “Just get the hell away from me!” the gun shakes, more than likely due to anger, as he stares at it, defeated and disbelieving.

“Are you really so angry… that you would shoot me?” He runs his hand through his hair, pulling the damp strands back away from his face and revealing those eyes that I once thought so beautiful.

Unwavering, I keep the gun poised. “I’m not sure. Would you like to test me and see?” I know it’s not true. I could never shoot him, no matter what he’s done. He doesn’t know that though, and right now the only thing I know is that I want him away from me.

Without a word, he turns around, glancing once more at the man’s body before slowly walking towards the exit at the other end of the alley. I stand there, watching him go. When he is gone, I lower the gun, still staring at where he was, the empty space of darkness. Swallowing again, I give up the foolish act and fall to my knees, slamming my forearms into the muddy ground and leaning forward, gritting my teeth against the tears that are the only constant in my life.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sky has returned to its pleasant blue this morning. The clouds have dispersed. The dark afternoon gives way to a cheerful morning… or as cheerful as it could be for the proverbial clouds hanging over my head right now. I drag myself from the small bed in the hotel room, glancing at the window and the quiet streets of the town of December. As I stretch, trying to wake myself up and causing a few of the bones in my back to pop loudly, I try to forget yesterday’s unpleasant happenings. So different than today, it would almost seem a dream, were I not remembering it so clearly.

The newspaper speaks of the murder of one, “Justin Marks,” a businessman with no known relatives. The local church will hold a small ceremony in two days in remembrance. I wish that I could go. My ticket for the sand steamer boasts of first class lodgings for the trip to Felnarl that I hardly think I deserve or need. I could just as easily be tucked away in steerage, lost and forgotten and ignored by other passengers. The sun shines in through the window and ricochets off of my gun on the table, brighter than the two .45 autos lying next to it, and casts a glare into my eyes. I stare back at it before blinking and looking away, rubbing at my eyes.

So many things were ruined by yesterday. I never got to give him the guns, picked out just for him and so similar to Wolfwood’s. I never got to tell him goodbye, that I have to go find out why I’m due to die soon. I never got to tell him how I feel.

I guess it’s all for the best. I’m almost certain I don’t feel about him that way, anymore, anyway.

Sighing to myself as I so often do these days, I begin to get dressed and ready to leave on the sand steamer to Felnarl that will be taking off in a little over an hour.

Don’t get angry with me for this chapter. ;_; Trust me… it has a plot, so I DO know what I’m doing… I think. =3