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Blue Skies of Eden	By : beowulfsword Category: +S to Z > Trigun Views: 2133 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Trigun, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own Millions Knives or anything Trigun. I do, however, own this story and the characters of my own design.

Author's Note: The first few pages of this have been on my hard drive for probably 3 years now, and it wasn't until I read MizuiroHiei's "Undiscovered Angels", a Knives/OC and Vash/Meryl romance, that I was inspired to write Trigun fanfics again.
What also has inspired me was the fact that there are hardly any good Millions Knives romance fics . . . with Knives IN CHARACTER.
Anyway, this probably won't be a long story; probably not even 10 chapters. But I will update as soon as I can. Currently I'm writing a Sesshoumaru/Rin romance fic in the Inuyasha category, and an original fantasy story at FP.com. That, and I'm starting my senior year of high school next week, so everything is gunna be very slow for a while.
Anyway, hopefully you'll enjoy what I have, and please keep in mind that there will be a mix of the Manga and Anime verses in here.
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Title: Blue Skies of Eden

Anime Category: Trigun

Genre: Romance/Action/Humor/Violence

Rating: Mature

Parings: Knives/Original Character

Summary: Knives lives for his ideal dreams of an Eden for him, Vash, and the rest of his species. Despite what his brother's insistent reasoning, he will always despise humans and entertain any idea that deals with destroying them. Until one day he wakes up to find himself lying in an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room, with a broken and badly burned body, and in the care of a human woman who he suspects injured him in the first place.
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Chapter One: Enter the Immortals
The twin suns hung high in the sky over Novembre, a fairly large town home to some of the worst gangs on Gunsmoke. And a temporary stay for the Humanoid Typhoon and his insane twin brother.
"Knives? KNIVES?! Where are you?! Oh no! He's gone! AHHH!!" Vash screamed as he ran around the two-story house he had rented. He ran down the long dark hall, failing to see his pale blonde-haired brother leaning against the inside of his bedroom doorframe.
Knives rolled his eyes, their color a chilling blue, and crossed his arms tightly over his chest, expressing his immense annoyance. As his brother came tromping back through the hall, Knives stuck out his foot, successfully tripping Vash, and he watched as kissed the wooden floor.
"Ow . . . ," came Vash's muffled voice.
"You're more irritating than I thought, Vash," Knives said as he pushed himself from the doorframe and stalked past his fallen brother. "If I had known you would act like this whenever I'm out of your sight for one minute, I would have never agreed to travel with you."
Vash jumped to his feet and quickly followed his brother downstairs, rubbing the red streak running down the middle of his face.
"If I recall, Knives, you didn't really have a choice in the matter," he said, grinning. Knives mumbled something under his breath, but Vash decided to ignore it.
After nearly a month and a half after their battle, Knives had finally awoken from his coma. With the assistance of Meryl and Millie, they had helped Knives recover from the wounds Vash had inflicted upon him.
And, after numerous threats and death-promising glares, Knives had recovered fully and perfectly. But Vash had wanted to leave as soon as possible because the inhabitants of the town became restless and edgy with the news of Vash the Stampede living so close to them.
With tears and bone-crushing hugs from Millie and a forced promise to return from Meryl, Vash had packed his things and left for Novembre, dragging his unwilling, anti-human twin with him.
It was only the third day since their moving in, but they were slowly getting used to their current home. Even the disgruntled Knives, who didn't want anything to do with Vash or the thugs living around them, was gradually settling down.
"Say, Knives, how about you and me head out for the bar tonight, uh? I could sure use a few drinks," the spiky-haired man suggested as he flopped down and stretched out on the couch, propping his feet up on the arm while tucking his hands behind his head. "Yup, I haven�t had a few hard ones since I started staying with the girls. Meryl made me cut back."
"That is a good thing, Vash. I've unfortunately seen you drink before, and I'd rather not see it again if I can prevent it."
Vash looked over at his brother who took a seat in the chair by the window. He lunged up, grinning like a fool.
"Yeah! Let's go right now!" Knives glared at him.
"Vash, it must be rough living with a simple mind."
He looked at him weird. "Huh?"
Knives rolled his eyes. "No."
Vash's aqua green-blue eyes became huge and pitiful, and he thrust out a quivering lower lip. Knives cringed with disgust and leaned away even though the childish outlaw was halfway across the room.
"I said no," he bit out. If it was even possible, Vash's eyes became larger and waterier. Knives narrowed his eyes dangerously, his teeth clenched in agitation.
"Stop it, Vash," he spat, turning away slightly, but still having a difficult time tearing his gaze away. It was just too cute to ignore, even if it was his brother.
"Oh, please, Knives! Please, please, please, PLEASE!" Vash cried, running across the room and throwing himself to his knees. He wrapped his arms around brother's legs and squeezed them. Knives looked like he was ready to have a heart attack.
"Let go of me, Vash!" he shouted, struggling to free his legs so he could retreat to the safety of his bedroom. But Vash held on, whining and pleading with him like there was no tomorrow.
"FINE! Just let go of me!" Vash was suddenly standing again, grinning down at him.
"Okay, let's go!" He grabbed Knives's arm, jerked him out of his seat, and practically dragged him out of the room.
"Can't you wait a couple more hours?!" he spat as he was shoved out the door. Vash closed and locked it behind them, then stuffed the key in his pocket.
"No, we gotta go now!" he said, wrapping an arm around his brother's wide shoulders and steering him into town. Knives growled, but allowed himself to be guided, his ice-blue eyes glaring off in the distance.
He didn't know whom he couldn't stand more nowadays: the humans or his own brother.
---
Night fell over Novembre, the full moons bathing the town in their own unique light. Knives glared at everyone from his secluded table in a dark corner. He hated coming to bars; hell, he hated coming into town!
But, he thought with a sigh, Vash didn't trust him just yet to leave him alone at the house. He probably thought he would runaway or afraid he would blow the up the town. But he didn't have the will to do it. He allowed himself to realize his defeat and took it like a man.
He still held a rather large grudge against the humans though, and wouldn't hesitate to kill one if he was sorely provoked to do so.
His eyes swept across the dimly lit room. Round tables were set up all over the place, all mostly taken by the men and the prostitutes in the town. Being in a room packed with humans with the volume level on deafening and the smell of smoke and alcohol did nothing to help ease Knives's darkening mood.
He glared up at the bar where his bother sat swinging a mug of beer around and singing off key. The other men sitting around him laughed and joined in. Sneering, Knives cupped his chin in his hand and glared at the wall. It figured as much that they were going to be there more than a few hours.
"Hey there, tiger," purred a slim, dark-haired woman. She slid up to him, dressed in a black skirt that rode high on her pale thighs, and a crimson top that clung low to her breasts and exposed her stomach and pieced bellybutton. She leaned back against the table, her hands flat on the smooth surface behind her to hold her up, placing her body unwelcomingly close to his.
Strong perfume wafted toward him and he had to force himself not to pull out the raven-black revolver strapped to his thigh. Instead, he let his arm drop, his finger stroking the steel grip of his deadly weapon, earning a sense of comfort from its unyielding, cold body while he silently watched the woman shamelessly flaunt herself.
She sighed in a way that was probably intended to be erotic way, but was lost on him and arched her back, thrusting her scantly covered breasts in the air. She tilted her head and smiled at him slyly. His cold blue eyes never once blinked as he continued to finger the cool grip of his revolver while he watched her, ever fiber in his body craving the idea of thrusting the muzzle past those sickeningly pouting lips and pulling the trigger.
'If only, if only,' he thought dejectedly.
"What's a good looking guy like yourself sitting all by your lonesome?" she whispered in a bedroom voice, licking her lips. He clenched his teeth against a wave of nausea and turned his head away.
The urge to murder the disgusting whore was nearly overwhelming, and he felt he just might give into it if she tried anything.
"What's the matter, tiger? Shy?" She softly moaned in his ear, running a long red nail up along his arm. And he snapped. He spun around and grasped her throat, mentally cringing that he had forgotten his gloves. He jerked her toward him until she was straddling over his leg and he slowly pressed the cold muzzle against the soft, warm flesh of her bared midriff.
Her green eyes were wide in fright and she was about to scream when he said in a soft, threaten voice, "Shh . . . Don't attract attention or you'll have a hole where your stomach is."
She nodded hard, having difficulty swallowing because of the iron grip he had on her throat. He smiled beautifully, menacingly, and pulled her closer. His amazingly sky blue eyes reflected brutal, agonizing death, and for one split moment, the she thought she wasn't going to leave there alive.
He sneered at her and whispered, "The moment I let you go is the moment you have three seconds to get the hell away from me."
She nodded vigorously. The second his long, slender fingers uncoiled from her throat, the woman quickly stumbled backwards away from him and she turned and fled to the other side of the bar.
He watched as he calmly slid the revolver back into its black leather holster attached to his jean-clad thigh, and then stood up sharply, shoving back his chair, and stalked toward the door and stepped out into the cool night air.
Closing his eyes and tilting his head up, he reveled in the soft breeze that washed over his face and through his unkempt, platinum blonde hair.
The moons hung high in the dark sky, embraced by the midnight. They glowed with their own unique color as they watched over the planet.
Knives closed his eyes and sighed, bringing a gloved hand up and sliding it through his soft pale hair, fingering one spot where the hair had grown stiff and hard and as black as a freshly spilt bottle of ink; a sign that he had possibly shortened his lifespan by a few years due to his rash and careless actions.
Shaking his head and stuffing a hand in his jeans' pocket, he pushed off the poorly made deck and began his a slow walk back to the house. Vash will probably go insane once he realizes he wasn't around anymore, but what was he going to do? Threaten to keep inside the house forever?
Fine by him.
The less time he spent his time in the company of humans, the better.

Click.
With enhanced hearing, the odd sound reached him almost instantly, bringing him to a halt. He turned slightly, his ice-blue eyes narrowing and his mouth pulling into a confused frown.
What was that? he thought.
He gazed through the town and toward the cliffs that stacked high on the horizon, looking as though it longed to touch the bluish moon hovering above it.
Suddenly there was a bright flash in the shadow-ridden cliffs, accompanied by a thunderous boom and high-pitched whistling as something speared through the night air.
And he watched, transfixed, as a building closest to the cliffs exploded, fire and charred wood erupting into the air, lighting up the sky.
The ground shook beneath his feet from the explosion, knocking him out of his trance.

Click.
From a different spot, there was another boom from the cliffs, followed by another building exploding in a blaze of fire and smoke, and the ground rolled again, bringing him to a knee, balancing himself.

Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.
Click.

His eyes widen in disbelief as blasts come from various spots in the cliffs. Around him, people began pouring out the buildings and houses, screaming and running around in terror as chaos ensued.

Click.
Click.
Click.

He couldn't believe what he was seeing.
One moment, a serene midnight walk through a mostly sleeping town; fire, destruction, and blood-curdling screams of mayhem surrounding him the next. And the only thing that bothered him about it . . . was that it hadn't been him who had caused it.
"Knives! KNIVES! Where are you?!"
Knives looked around him, hearing his brother calling out to him frantically through the roaring flames, crumbling buildings, and screaming humans, fear and confusion weighing heavily in his voice.

"Vash, I'm here," he reassured, reaching out with his mind and instantly connecting to the familiar mental link between them.

"Knives! Where are you?" Vash asked, his worried voice echoing through his head.
He looked around him before answering, "I'm on the side of the town nearest to the house."
"What happened? Did you do this?! So help me, Knives, if you--"

He sneered at the utterly false accusation and the pathetic threat that followed it.

"Shut up, Vash. If you ever accuse me of something like this again without substantial proof that it was me again and I will remove your other arm with my bare hands."

There was a pause before he heard, "You're right . . . I'm sorry, Knives. Just get back to the house, all right?"
"Vash--" he started, wanting to tell his brother to stop ordering him around and that that had been what he had planned to do.

"PLEASE, Knives! I don't have time to argue with you right now! These people need my help. If you plan to stay, then help me. If not, just get home! I'll be there shortly!"

And then the mental link was broken, signaling the end of their conversation.
He scoffed at the idea of helping any human. He already made a deal to stop killing them. Saving them was out of the question, whether his idiot of a brother liked it or not.
Turning on the heel of his boot, he began making his way through all the chaos, looking seemingly at home with it all.

Click.

He stopped and turned, hearing the boom followed by the shrilling whistle split the air that steadily grew louder.
His eyes widen when a hole was blown through a wall of flames and a rocket-propelled grenade speared through the air.
At him.
"Son of a --!" Instead of finishing his sentence, he quickly threw himself to the ground and covered his head as it zoomed past him, causing sand to wash over him, and he tightened his arms around his head as the building behind him exploded. Burning debris immediately began raining down behind him.
When a large piece of flame-engulfed wood landed scant inches from his head, he quickly rolled away and shoved himself to his feet, instinct screaming at him to get away from the obvious peril he was in.
But before he could even lift one foot, there was an ominous cracking sound of wood splintering followed by a groan of something heavy being forced to move.
He slowly turned, his striking blue eyes traveling upward as his jaw slackened, watching as the whole front wall of the building in front of him made a hasty descent toward him, the flames illuminating his horror-stricken face as it came crashing down upon his relenting body.
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Blue Skies of Eden