[ He might be making it up as he goes along, but it's a good story! Sorry to that non-existent dad and his terrible ideas about baby names, but it's not a bad idea at all, Vash thinks, nodding in approval. The kid's right that nobody is going to be looking for somebody his age, especially not if he avoids looking too much like the wanted posters.

And besides, if things get too hairy, Vash can always draw attention to himself and away from the kid. It's a flawless plan! ]

Don't worry about that! I hate getting shot.

[ And he's not the only one. With all the alternate versions of himself floating around, Vash has been spending a lot more time than usual thinking about the past, about Knives, and all the ways they failed each other over the years. There wasn't much good in dwelling on the past before now, but with Nai's future in the balance, he can't afford to keep putting the past aside.

Shooting Knives in that town all those decades ago had been pure accident, panic and fear and unthinking action. If he'd been able to keep his fear under control then, he can't help but wonder, how would their lives have been different? ]

He lived, by the way. Our brother. I didn't see him again for a very long time, but he recovered fully.

[ The damage to his body recovered, anyway. The damage to his mind, and to their relationship, had been permanent.

Lost in memories, Vash shrugs out of his coat -- this is as good a spot as any to leave it. He can bury it at the base of one of these rocks and come back for it after they eat -- and rolls it up in a tight little ball. ]

Let me hide this, then we can go?