Work Text:
“Hey, mister?”
Vash cracked his eyes open with only mild reluctance. He was slouched on a wooden bench, chin tucked towards his chest as he enjoyed the late morning suns. It wasn’t too terribly hot outside yet, and he had quite been enjoying his catnap in the town square. The hum of people going about their days, but not venturing too close to his spot, provided a pleasant, comfortable lull in the background. He didn’t actually know where he was, with how late he’d blown into town the night before, but had made a mental note to check before he left. He wouldn’t have minded coming back here sometime.
He saw the lap of his coat first, then raised his head to find out who had addressed him. His eyes landed on a tiny girl in overalls—he would have guessed she was around seven—who was regarding him with equal parts hope and trepidation.
Vash stretched his arms straight up overhead, letting out a wide yawn before leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his knees and smiled easily. “Hey.”
The girl’s suspicion seemed to flare for a moment when he actually replied, and she looked down at her worn-out shoes, scuffing a line into the dirt. “Umm…” She paused for a long moment, fiddling with her fingers. Vash waited. At last, she looked back up and spoke in a rush. “Would you help us get our ball off the roof?” She pointed a skinny arm towards the nearby saloon. Sure enough, he could see a dusty red ball perched on the flat awning. It looked to be barely stuck on the raised edge of the structure, far too high for a child to reach.
The girl spoke again, drawing his attention back. “It got stuck up there when we were playing keep-away,” she explained with a frown. “We were gonna try to go get it, but there’s usually scary guys in that place.”
Vash couldn’t help but chuckle. The way the girl was still looking at him, he expected she was having second thoughts as to whether he qualified as a scary guy. They must’ve really wanted that ball back to risk talking to him.
He glanced around the town square to see if he could find the rest of the girl’s crew, and spotted five more kids lingering at an alley entrance some distance away. He raised a hand and waved. Realizing they’d been spotted, one of them hid behind a trash can. But two returned the friendly gesture, much to their credit and his surprise.
Vash returned his focus to the timid girl in front of him again. It was easier to act brave from far away, he knew. So he pushed off the bench and stood, smiling down at her reassuringly. “Of course! But you’re gonna have to race me there.”
She stayed stock-still at first, looking up at him with wide eyes and a craned neck. But when he took the first few steps in the direction of the saloon, raising his arms like he was about to take off in a sprint, she bolted towards the building. Vash laughed to himself, picking up a slow, exaggerated jog after her.
The girl beat him there, naturally, smacking a hand against the porch railing in victory. He had narrowed the gap between them at the end to make it close, but to leave no doubt about who had won.
“Man, you’re fast,” he said, pretending to be out of breath as he applauded. “Nice job!”
She nodded proudly, hands going to her hips as she leaned forward to gloat. “Yeah! That means you have to help me now,” she informed him matter-of-factly.
He tsked, shaking his head. “Guess that means I do.” It took no time for him to scale the porch railing, holding onto one of the awning’s supports for balance. He scooped the ball up and handed it down to her, dropping to the ground seconds later himself.
“Thanks, mister!” the girl said enthusiastically, hugging the ball to her middle as Vash adjusted his footing. He bowed, low and formal, and she giggled. “You’re nice, but you sure are weird!”
When he stood, fighting back a laugh at her blunt, not-inaccurate appraisal, he could see the rest of her friends slowly approaching. She ran over to join them, exchanging loud whispers behind cupped hands with the others before turning back to face him.
“D’you wanna come play with us?” she asked, smiling brightly now. The others seemed more or less open to the idea. Even the one who’d ducked for cover was looking at him expectantly; retrieving the ball had apparently put him in everyone’s good graces.
Vash stroked his chin thoughtfully, glancing towards the sky to see the suns’ positions. It was entirely for show. “I suppose I’ve got some time to spare,” he said, amused when the first girl started bouncing on her toes.
“So.” He clapped his hands together. “What’s the game?”
The first game was ball tag, which turned into a game of spud, which turned into a game of flinch. They’d made up their own rules for each one, changing particulars on the fly whenever the mood struck, or when it would draw out the game to keep someone else from winning. Somewhere along the line, they got tired of the ball and switched to a game of trying to knock him over instead. One of the kids had yelled “Bring the giant down!”, and that was apparently enough for the rest to know what to do.
Quite frankly, they were better at it than he would’ve expected. Not good enough to actually succeed without him falling on purpose, but when four of them charged him in a coordinated attack, he let them have the win. Getting knocked to the dirt was nothing new, after all, and he didn’t mind it so much when it was for their amusement.
He didn’t have anywhere specific to be that day, and had quite lost track of time when a loud, clear voice cut through their laughter and squabbling as they tried to pin his arms. The preferred method was sitting on them, and his dramatic pleas for freedom weren’t swaying their hearts in the least.
“Kids! It’s time for lunch!”
That earned several gasps and happy shouts. The weights on his arms and chest were lifted all at once, and whoever had been pulling his hair let go. He pushed up onto his elbows to see them racing towards a house at the end of the street, kicking up dust clouds as they went. A woman in an apron met them halfway there, and they stopped, gathering in a huddle before her. She said something to them that he couldn’t hear. They sped off again when she seemed to dismiss them, and she continued towards him.
Vash was back on his feet by the time she was within conversation distance, repositioning his glasses and brushing down the arms and back of his coat as well as he could. He made a brief attempt to get his hair into some sort of order before giving it up as a lost cause.
The woman caught his gaze as he finished straightening his sleeve and inclined her head, smiling politely. “Hello. I wanted to thank you for helping her earlier,” she said. “I’m Sara’s mom.” The woman held out a petite hand for him to shake, and he took it carefully in his gloved one.
“No problem at all,” he replied, returning her expression. He knew from their games that Sara was the first girl who’d approached him. Besides, he could see the resemblance in their slim noses and dark eyes. His brows furrowed just slightly as he processed the woman’s words, letting go of her hand. “How did you know?”
“I was hanging up the wash,” she explained, pointing back towards the house. There was a clothesline strung up on the porch, laden with white garments. “I was about to come help them myself when she went up to you. She’s usually pretty shy, so it surprised me. But I wanted to give her a chance to handle it on her own.” She smiled at him warmly now. “I’m glad she could make a new friend.”
Vash nodded his head in understanding. “Well, I’m glad I could help out.” It wasn’t too often he spoke with the parents of children he entertained, but he was grateful this woman didn’t seem at all angry or suspicious of him. It’s not like he could blame anyone for being wary, after all.
“You know, you’re really good with them,” the woman said thoughtfully. She turned again to watch the small group crowd through the front door of her home. “Make sure you guys take turns washing up!” she called. When none of them responded, she turned her attention back to him with a slightly exasperated smile, shaking her head. “You must have kids of your own,” she surmised.
Vash startled a bit, his posture stiffening. “Oh! Uh, I don’t, actually,” he said, raising a hand to scratch at the back of his head. He gave her a sheepish grin. “I’m just childish, I guess.”
The woman looked surprised for a second, then broke into giggles. “No, I don’t think that’s it.” She considered him for another long moment, her eyes kind and sincere. The attention made him antsy, regardless. “I know it’s not my place to say, but… you should really consider it someday. I think you’d be a great dad.”
Vash’s mild embarrassment quickly transitioned to a full blush. He ducked his head, though a soft smile remained on his face. “That’s very kind of you,” he replied quietly, not meeting her eyes. “Maybe someday.”
In truth, he didn’t know if what she’d suggested was even physically possible. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered, but he certainly couldn’t imagine going through the process of trying to find out. And even if he could become a parent another way—plenty of children on the planet were already in need of homes and guardians, after all—he knew it would never make sense with the grim path he was locked into.
The woman’s face entered his field of vision again when she leaned down far to meet his eyes, pulling him from his thoughts. “Do you want to join us for lunch?” she asked tentatively, giving him another smile. With his focus secured, she stood back to her full height, and he lifted his gaze again.
“We’re having meatloaf sandwiches today. It’s no trouble to pull up an extra chair. And maybe it can convince you they’re not such a bad idea,” she persuaded, shrugging her shoulders in an easy-going way.
As if on cue, they heard the sound of something shattering and children yelling in the distance. The woman winced one eye closed, breathing in slowly and letting out a long sigh. “Or, you know, maybe it’ll convince you of the exact opposite.”
Vash chuckled, shifting his weight and rubbing at one arm. He didn’t want to impose. He knew there were already a lot of mouths to feed, and this town clearly wasn’t rich. But the company sounded awfully nice.
He looked at her with cautious hope, still feeling hesitant. “If you’re sure you don’t mind…”
Before his doubts could fully take over, the woman beamed at him and nodded. “Of course! I promise we’re happy to have you.”
She turned and beckoned for him to follow over her shoulder. Her voice took on a warning tone when she called out to the kids again. “That better not have been one of the nice plates!” He laughed under his breath as he trailed after her, hands going into his pockets as a cozy feeling settled in his stomach.
No, Vash didn’t figure he would ever have children of his own.
But right now—if only for today—he could play pretend.