note: Post-canon AU. Knives, who believed he was going to die, was barely able to survive thanks to the sisters who stayed by his side and ultimately came to share his beliefs. Years later, Vash comes across him again—completely by chance.

VK

It wasn’t until much, much later—after I’d watched every human I ever knew slowly fade away—that it finally hit me:

you never even had a grave.

But that doesn’t make sense, does it?

A funeral, for you.

You, lying still in a casket with your eyes closed, waiting for one last goodbye from the ones you loved.

God, Knives—what an utterly absurd image. It’s laughable. Unimaginable.

And then your coffin, slowly lowered into the ground among a crowd of mourners, while a priest gives the final prayer:

"Our brother, Knives—"

Nope. Wrong from the start. I’m sorry.

"Our brother, Knives, son of the Lord and kin to the Plants, now sheds the burdens of this world and steps into eternal peace at the Lord’s side."

I tried to recall scenes from old films, ones I saw a long time ago. None of them fit.

They were all human. You’re not.

Would there even be a God for us?

God made man in His image—but what does that make us?

What happens to us when we die?

No, wait. This wasn’t supposed to be some deep philosophical ramble.