I'm finally done! Yay! I thought I'd NEVER get around to finishing this story... I've been writing it since January, off and on. (Yes, I am lazy, thanks for noticing!) This fic is my take on what thoughts are going through Vash's head as he is getting ready in the morning. It is written in Vash's POV, which was kind of hard to do at times, because he has different emotional sides to him, and I had to gather them all up and roll them into one. It's animeverse and Mangaverse. Overall, I am pleased with how I did.

Okay, how about I shut up now so you can read? I'll talk more at the end.

Have fun reading!


EVERY MORNING

"Vash!" I hear Rem's familiar voice, calling my name. I look around for her, but I see nothing but deep black, mixed with a deep red that looks terribly like blood.

Suddenly, she appears just feet from me. "Vash..." She said, a smile playing across her childlike face. She looks as if she is completely unaware of the violently swirling scene behind her. She reaches for me, her arms stretched towards me invitingly. "Rem!" I call back to her, trying to reach back, only to be pushed back by a blasting wind. I struggle against the force desperately, watching her rapidly get farther away from me. I hear her call my name again, sounding far away. "Come home, Vash..."

Abruptly, I hear beeping, thumping obnoxiously in my brain from somewhere seemingly distant and the dark colors swirl around me wildly, engulfing me in darkness. I can't see Rem anymore. "No, Rem..." I choked out.

"Rem!" I hear my voice ring out. I sit up in a dark room, breathing heavily, my heart thumping furiously in my chest. I still hear the beeping that I had heard in my dream, and it takes me a few moments to realize that it's my alarm clock. I take a deep breath and turn it off, leaving the room silent. "Just a dream." I say aloud, my voice trembling slightly, and wipe cold sweat from my face. I feel nauseous and dizzy.

I lie there, taking several deep breaths, until the ceiling above me stops spinning. I have been having nightmares lately, containing fleeting visions of Rem. They are usually really windy, and are either very hot or very cold. The dark colors, though, are new.

Although it was unsettling, within minutes my heartbeat is back to normal, and I am calm. I'm used to bad dreams, but some can be worse than the usual. I glance outside a small window in the wall above my bed, and see nothing but pitch black darkness outside. I prefer to start my day early, and I will not be seeing any sunlight for a while. Today is April 8th, 0131. I have seen over a hundred April 8ths in my lifetime.

I yawn and sit up straight. My neck kind of hurts, I must have slept on it weird. I cross my stiff legs Indian style, and crack my fingers. I rest my head on the wall, and even out my breathing. Meditating right after I wake up is a good way for me to sort out my thoughts-- or maybe push them out of my head. I always enjoy it, even if I only do it for a little while. Sometimes I do it in the shower, but it pisses the owner of the place off because I use a lot of hot water that way.

My mind systematically goes blank, and I feel my muscles relax after a while. I try to sit very still and concentrate on breathing, inhaling and exhaling steadily. Inhale, exhale. After a while, the motion feels dreamlike and flows easily. I maintain this state of higher consciousness until it is broken by one of the hairs from my messy mop tickling my nose when I inhale. I try ignoring it, but it has ruined my state of unbothered mental tranquility. I reach up to push it back, and I try to get focused again, but can't. I grumble and stand up.

I stretch out a little, hearing several bones pop in my back. I touch my toes, and stretch my arms and legs, producing more cracking. Now I'm all stretched out, ready to go. It's time for training, which I like doing, because it helps me get stronger, and I get to look forward to a long shower afterwards.

I start with push ups - 300 of them. I could do more, but I don't want to strain myself so early in the morning. Over time, as my body adjusts to it, I can do more and more. I switch from normal push-ups to one-handed, switching hands. It's easier to use my right arm than my prosthetic left one. I push myself up and back down again, my nose almost touching the floor. Next, I switch to using just my thumb and index finger, which is just is little bit more challenging. They are done before long, and my upper body definitely feels stronger than it did when I woke up.

Okay, now it's sit-up time... 300 of those as well. They take just as long, but it's monotonous and boring. I sigh and bury my hands in my hair behind my head, and curl up to my knees. it's tough, because I'm using only my abs to lift my entire upper body. I start to count, and find a steady rhythm. it's slow at first, but I get used to the switch from pushing to curling easily.

My movements flow along breezily. 163, 164, 165, 16... OOW! I just hit my head on the floor. I curse and tell myself to slow down. Before long, I'm getting close, and the rhythm deteriorates, and I finish in a hurry. I pull myself weakly onto the bed and lie there to breathe for a minute.

Now that the burning sensation in my abs has subsided, I stand up and wipe sweat from my face with my shirt. I stand in front of the wall by the bed. This is always fun. I bend down, spreading the palms of my hands onto the floor, kick off the ground, and use the wall to push my feet up into the air.

I wobble a bit at first, but I get balanced quickly. I'm sure there are EASIER exercises I could be doing, but the challenge of this particular one is the reason I do it. I slightly bend my elbows, getting closer to the floor, and then push myself back up slowly, and repeat. I focus on staying vertical, keeping my body stiffly upright. The first few are hard, but as I get used to it, I can go down further each time.

When I'm sure that I've got my balance, I switch to using one hand, then the other, and back to both. I dare myself to go further, but at the same time being very careful. I can remember a time I fell and woke Nick up... He came in after hearing a loud THUMP to find me, lying sweaty on the floor. Oh, did I mention that at the time I was naked? The look on his face was priceless.

Sweat drips off of me and onto the floor. I go down one more time, and decide I am done. I flip forward, onto my feet again. The sudden rush of blood makes my vision blur and my head spin. I close my eyes and lean against the wall, until I am certain I can stand. I consider going for a short run, but since it is still really dark outside I decide against it. The shower sounds a lot better right now anyway.

Still breathing heavily, I pull my sweaty shirt over my head and throw it carelessly in the general direction of the bed. Maybe if people see my discarded clothing when they come in, they will get the idea that I am NUDE and I don't want company at the moment.

I walk into the tiny bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. I grope blindly in the dark along the wall until I find the lightswitch, flicking it on. The sudden blast of obnoxiously bright light stings my eyes. Through squinted eyes I see another small window like the one above the bed, which I crack open to let some fresh air in. A small breeze of cool air flows past me, chilling my uncovered skin. I shiver involuntarily.

I quickly glance into the mirror above the sink and see that my eyes are green today. They seem to alternate between turquoise and aqua blue, depending on my mood that day. I check again that the door is locked. I curse my insecurity.

I loosen the drawstring on my sweatpants, and they fall, pooling around my ankles, and I kick to the corner of the room. Following them are my boxers, which I pull off and fling over with the pants. I'm oddly amused by my sudden nakedness. It reminds me that I'm not ashamed of ALL of my body...

I feel odd just standing around naked, so I pull the shower curtain open and step inside the shower stall. The walls' tiles are powder blue, like the curtain. I turn the water knobs until the water is lukewarm. Usually, I start with warm water and slowly turn up the heat as the shower progresses. I stand and let the gushing water run over my skin, washing away my sweat and making my hair droop down over my face and stick to my neck.

After my body adjusts to the water, I look around for soap. I find the tiny bottle the hotel has provided on the ledge of the tub. I unscrew the cap of the tiny bottle - it smells like lavender. It kind of looks like purple snot, though... that's gross. Not the best hotel soap ever, but I'll live.

I pour some of the lavender soap into the palm of my cupped hand, and plop it on top of my head, rubbing it into my hair. I scrub and scrub until my head feels clean, and lather is running off my hair, down my neck and onto my back and chest. The warm suds feel nice on my skin.

My soapy hand reaches for the hot water knob, turning it up a bit. I dip my head under the torrent of water and feel the soap running off of me. I run my fingers through my hair until the soap is all washed away, and watch the suds swirl down the drain.

Now it's my skin's turn for scrubbing. I see a rag hanging from the shower wrung on the wall. It has small flower designs embroidered around the edges. It's a nice touch, because seeing REAL flowers is a rarity on this planet. I pour some soap into the rag and lather it up.

I wash every part of me twice, because I like the "Squeaky clean" feeling, and it makes the shower last longer. I start with my face, my shoulders, and what I can reach of my back, then work down from there. While standing on one foot scrubbing the bottom of my right foot, I lose balance and almost fall over. I frantically reach for the shower wrung, keeping myself upright. Smooth, Vash, smooth.

I let the soap wash away, and repeat the process, only this time going slower, paying more attention to my scars and wounds. I know they are why I get insecure. I have seen people's reaction towards my body in the past - they stare at me, their eyes wide, then look away, ashamed. They apologize, not meeting my eyes. I understand.

Some of them don't really hurt anymore and are fading from red back to flesh color, others leave large holes in my skin and will never heal completely. Memories are attached to each of them. Some of the wounds I know will never heal properly, and will turn to scar tissue. The wound that Brilliant Dynamites Neon so graciously gave me, on my side, will definitely leave a permanent mark.

I run my fingers around and down into the familiar crevices of scar tissue. The skin there is hard and smooth, and in some spots still healing. It is good to regularly massage them, so the tissue does not grow out of control or get too hard. That would hinder my movement and flexibility, and obviously, I don't want that to happen.

Knives has seen my scars, although I tried not to let him. I can still remember his reaction, better than anyone else's. We were in July, and he was about to show me exactly how powerful we can be. His words echo in my memory from over a hundred years ago...

"Say," he said calmly, walking towards me as I stared in horror at my arm, growing and transforming into that thing. "Can I ask you for an honest answer about something?" He stooped down, his face very close to mine. "Having lived with them for nearly a hundred years, have you never once felt hatred for the human race!"

I lowered my eyes in shame. "Stop it..." I pleaded.

"I don't think so. This is important." He said hastily.

"I'm not like you." I said, meeting his eyes, anger visible in my tone.

"When I first saw those scars on your body... I was speechless." Knives said, sadness in his voice, but whatever compassion he had felt at that moment was gone in an instant. His eyes no longer looked calm, but icy, filled with hatred. "How many times have you been BETRAYED? how many times have you been HURT? How many times have you been HUMILIATED? Been treated as something OTHER than human?" He yelled, his voice dripping with animosity. I closed my eyes, trying to block him out.

The energy surging through my veins to my right arm was making me feel faint. An orb where my wrist had been was pulsating, glowing incandescently, growing larger as more power flowed towards it. Knives's voice became louder and more demanding with every question he threw at me. All I could do is stare at him angrily, unable to move.

"...Had that which was dearest to you taken away? Had your WORD put to question? Been laughed at as they GROUND YOU into the dirt?" I slowly lifted my left arm, holding my gun, and shakily held it at Knives. The gesture only seemed to annoy him.

"Face reality." He said coldly. "You're a WALKING CONTRADICTION." Unable to take my eyes off his, I felt hot tears forming, becoming ashamed of my helplessness. "Your lovely IDEALISM and foolish PRIDE are eating away at your heart, RIGHT?"

Knives held his hand up to my face, resting it over one of my eyes. The tears fell from my eyes and streamed down my cheeks. Knives's eyes were a mixture of pity and rage. "I hate you Rem..." He said, energy flowing from his hand onto my skin, my arm blossoming with large feathers. "YOU were the one who made him like this!"

Without thinking, I dropped my revolver and grabbed Knives's collar, trying to get him off of me. "Still... You don't get it, do you!" He yelled wildly, and threw me down with such a force it knocked the breath out of my lungs. I gasped for breath. "YOU FOOL!" He yelled, pinning me to the ground, his hand still over my face, his power adding to mine.

'I can feel it...' I thought irrevocably. 'This is the end...'

Then came the release, an all-consuming white light...

I shudder, my entire body shaking convulsively. I feel tears welling in my eyes, but the rush of water snatches them away before they can fall. The feeling of loss is overwhelming, and I know I am the one responsible. My right arm trembles, hanging guiltily at my side.

I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...

After a few moments, I try push the unpleasant thought out of my mind, as I always do when memories like this arise. I turn the heat up even higher, and breathe. I try to revert my focus on my shower again, and not my guilty memories.

I am ashamed of my body, I will admit. I know that I could fix it if I was willing, but I am not. If I was to regenerate my body, I would be supporting Knives's idea that we are "superior" to humans. By bearing these scars, I am being human.

I reach out of the shower and grab my toothbrush and toothpaste from my bag, which is lying next to the stall. I rub my finger on the bristles of the brush to soften them, and squeeze out a dot of the toothpaste onto it. The bluish minty gunk tastes disgusting, but it's almost gone, and I can buy new stuff later. I brush my all surfaces of my teeth vigorously, and then scrub my tongue. I don't want bad breath. When I'm done, I toss my brush and nasty toothpaste back into the sink.

Again, I reach for the hot water knob, this time turning the heat all the way up. I hear myself groan with satisfaction as the shockingly hot water runs down my back. Once more, I run my hands over my human skin, the grates, bolts, and bumpy scar tissue.

I'm standing in the shower, listening to the hot water fall noisily from me onto the stall's floor. Sometimes... I wish, that if I could get the water hot enough, it could wash away more that just sweat and tears. I wish that it could wash away my pain, my sins, my memories, and my scars. If only...

I stand in the shower enjoying the luxury of flowing hot water for just a few more moments before slowly turning the knobs back, until the rushing water stops and slows to steady dripping, then is gone.

I sigh deeply and step out of the shower into the tiny, steam-filled room. Water drips from me, raining onto the floor. The air feels cold after being in such hot water. I immediately grab a towel and wrap it around myself. It resembles a skirt. I can't help but laugh aloud at that thought; the fearsome humanoid typhoon wearing a skirt! ooh, scary.

I rub a small spot on the fogged up mirror until I can see myself. My hair is still dripping wet, so I start to wring it out, water splashing to the floor. Suddenly, I hear and angry "MROOOOOOW" from around my feet. I look down, alarmed, and see that black cat that stalks me around my ankles, now a little wet, looking up at me madly.

"Sorry!" I say, feeling stupid, apologizing to a cat. The cat shakes the water off, splashing the walls a little. I dry my hand on the towel tied around my waist and reach to pet the cat, who looks skeptical at first, but accepts and responds with low, rumbling purrs.

"You're easy to please," I tell the cat, who meows and jumps up into the sill of the small window. She curls up and stares at me with large yellow eyes. I don't like being stared at, and being stark naked doesn't help. Well, I guess it doesn't matter if a cat sees me in all my glory.

Anyway, I need to finish drying my hair. I put a second towel over my head and rub my hair, until I've gotten all the water out as I can. Now, it lays messily over my head, bangs resting over my eyes. most of the water that had been on my skin has dried, but little dew drops remain, and I wipe them up with the towel. I have to be careful around the raw parts of my skin. I rub the metal grates holding my skin together until they shine.

Not wanting to stand around naked any longer, I probe my bag for some undergarments. I find some boxers with donuts on them. This makes me hungry, I wonder if Wolfwood and the girls will want to go eat at a donut place sometime today...? I slip them on and look for my jeans. They are in a pile in the corner with my coat. I pull them on, covering almost half of my scars already.

With them, I find the top and bottom parts of my bodysuit. I slip the bottom part on first, over my jeans. They are heavy, made of leather and with metal guards over my knees. I buckle the belt, and strap my gun belt on over that. The top portion is also leather, with metal guards on the elbows. it's a bit thicker, but that's a good thing, because that makes it more bulletproof. I pull it on and shove my arms into the long sleeves, the pushing my fingers into the gloves.

The last bit of uncovered skin are my feet, So I hunt down my boots, finding them by the toilet. They are pretty big - size thirteen. They are heavy too, with the blade inside. I shove them on over my feet and buckle up the numerous straps. I wiggle my toes. Spacious. I stomp my feet to check on the knives... still sharp and shiny.

Now, I pick my coat off the ground. I unfold it, and hold it up so it falls to it's full length. Every morning as I'm putting it on, I am reminded of the past. The flowing coat is bright, vivid red, just like the flowers Rem loved.

Rem loved the earth. She would tell me and Knives of all the different kinds of plants and animals on Earth, her eyes glowing, sentimental. She loved flowers - she would tell us their shapes, sizes, colors and fragrances. She said that they all hold a special meaning. Her favorite was the red geranium. Once, she showed me one that she had preserved on the ship, I was still very young.

I remember looking through the glass at the delicate flower with bright red petals through a glass case. It looked to fragile, as if it could be killed easily, and yet still very strong. Rem told me that in Hana Kotoba, the language of flowers, Geraniums represent determination.

That is one of my nicer memories. I shrug into the coat, putting one arm through it's sleeve, and then the other. I pull it around me, and start doing up buttons. I start at the top of the extensive column, and work down, my fingers moving with agility. I'm done buttoning pretty fast, buttoning is easy after you've done it a million times. it is a relief to get to the last button.

Now that I'm finally done dressing , I look absently into the mirror, seeing that all the fog has cleared up. Staring back at me in the mirror, I see Vash the Stampede, The Humanoid typhoon, the dangerous outlaw who single-handedly destroyed the third city, July, Worth $$60 Billion , dead or alive. But in my opinion, staring into the mirror at this "Legendary" man, he looks pretty harmless. I only wish that I was.

I am always surprised by how human my reflection looks in the mirror. Soft, sun-tanned skin, aqua eyes, a silver hoop hanging from my left ear, dark blonde hair, and a beauty mark below my right eye. The tiny dot is one of my physical features that plainly distinguishes me from Knives, whose is below his right eye. When we were only a few months old, that was the only way anyone on the ship could tell us apart.

I know that although I look human on the outside, I am not. Knives would remind me of this every day while we were together after the big fall. We would cross miles of hot, parched sand and cross small towns that the awakened humans had established. Seeing them alive and well made me tremendously happy, because I knew that Rem's death had not been pointless, but the joy was bittersweet. I also knew that their only possible means of surviving would be by using my kin, and Knives would never let me forget it. Not for one second.

"Look at them," Knives would say, staring at the people in the distant town with hate in his voice, his usually calm blue eyes stormy. "Without plants, they are completely HOPELESS. They are no better than leeches!" I knew that he was right, that we are their only way of survival here on this desolate, lifeless planet.

"But Knives," I pleaded, "They will die..!"

He cut me off. "Wouldn't that be nice!" He said maliciously, pleased with the idea. I did not respond to this because I would probably be beaten by him. Even with me, his own brother, he gets violent if pushed too far. He began walking again, away from the town and me. I looked back at the town one last time, and followed Knives.

Suddenly, I hear a clattering noise, and I look away from my reflection. The cat has knocked my bottle of hairgel onto the bathroom floor. She is giving me an "I'm sorry!" look. I smile and pet the cat's fuzzy head, and she meows happily to me, jumps down onto the floor, and rubs her head on my calves, purring contently. I'm glad the cat trusts me and isn't afraid of me, as most of the humans here are.

Looking back into the mirror, I am reminded that I haven't spiked my hair yet. I pick up the hair gel bottle from the floor. The bottle of translucent fluid is half full-- or half empty, depending on the perspective. "Extreme Hold!" the title claims. I flip the cap open, and squeeze a bit onto my fingers, and slowly rub it into my hair, pulling it upwards. Just that little bit will make it hold, my hair grows naturally sticking up a little bit.

I allow my bangs to stay hanging loosely around my eyes. This is the same way that Rem would put my hair when I was still very young. Knives refused to have the same style, he insisted that we each need our individuality.

I still remember my shock, looking into the mirror for the first time at my new style. My long locks were gone, and what was left of my hair was standing up! "It's sticking up!" I said in surprise. Rem giggled.

"I think it's great, it really suits you, Vash!" She paused to place her hands gently on my newly cut hair. "And... it reminds me of him." She said solemnly. She then told me about a person she had loved very much while she was on Earth, but was no longer alive. She spoke with great admiration in her voice, and just a little sadness.

"He was my emotional support. Thanks to him I was able to face my mistakes without judgement. I learned to make them right again. But then I lost him and realized that I would have to do it alone, but I wasn't afraid to make mistakes anymore. I believed that I could point myself in the right direction without looking back. That is exactly why I got on this ship, so I could enter the future as I am." Her eyes were closed, her head bowed. A half smile lingered on her lips.

Now that my hair is up, I think I am done! I look into the mirror and see the same face I've seen for the past hundred years. "Handsome as ever!" I say, and wink. But, one more thing would make me look even more bad-ass... I fish my glasses from my bag, and put them on. I look through the circular yellow lenses at my reflection again - definitely tuff looking.

I unlock the bathroom door, and walk out into the empty room, the black cat one step behind. The sun is shyly peeking over the horizon, letting just a few rays filter through the dirty glass window. People should be waking up soon. The messy hotel bed looks cozy and inviting, so I crawl into the bed and wriggle onto my back, my head crooked on my shoulder. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, smelling sour gunpowder from my coat and hints of lavender soap.

The cat jumps onto the bed, and I open one eye to see her sniffing my coat, whiskers twitching thoughtfully. After some evaluation, the cat steps onto my chest and stares at me, waiting to see if it's okay. I pat her head a few times absently, and she curls up on me and purrs obnoxiously loud. Still, It's cute.

This is kind of boring, but it's nice to just lay around in the morning, without having to worry about the insurance girls and bounty hunters and whatnot. If I get too relaxed, though, I'll fall asleep again. I don't want that... I'll have another dream. Fleeting visions of the latest play behind my closed eyelids - I see Rem, her arms spread invitingly, dark colors surging around her. "Come home, Vash..." I hear her say. Come Home? What does she mean by that..?

The swirling colors are making me dizzy, so I open my eyes slightly. The cat is now sound asleep. I wonder if cats can have nightmares? One of the cat's ears twitches in it's sleep, as if it knew I was thinking about it.

Despite my efforts to keep my eyes open, I can feel them closing again. I search my mind for something calming to think about. The rec room is the first thing that comes to mind. That place was my favorite spot on the SEEDS ship. Rem, Knives and I spent countless hours there together.

Knives and I could explore the large room for hours at a time, studying the life around us. Although Rem said the animal and plant life was much more abundant on Earth, we were still amazed by how alive everything was. The times when I was happy with Knives and Rem had been the best of my life.

Within minutes, I feel myself sinking slowly into subconsciousness. I don't want to fall asleep, but I'm too tired to fight the feeling. I really hope I don't dream...

After lying there for a while, I open my eyes a little. Above me, I see wide, bright blue sky scattered with thick, puffy white clouds. I can hear a bird in the distance, singing a love song to another. I open my eyes more, and see branches of a tree above me, reaching outward, covered in lush green leaves. The softness below me is grass, not sand.

I hear a door open and footsteps behind me. I see Rem, walking towards me, smiling vibrantly. "Vash!" She says happily, reaching me. she sits next to me on the grass, and inhales the fragrant air deeply. "I am glad," she said, eyes closed gently, "That you are home!" A slight breeze floats lazily by us, twirling Rem's waist length black hair.

"I'm glad too..." I hear myself say. "I thought I would never see you again." I smile at Rem, and she smiles back, eyes shining with emotion.

We sit and listen to the bird's song, lost in our own thoughts. I can remember something I wanted to tell her... so many things... but none are coming to mind. Rem is humming that song she loves, staring at the birds in the lofty tree behind us. I give up trying to remember.

"Rem?" I say, and her warm chocolate eyes rest on me again. "Will you ever have to leave me again...?" I asked, a lump rising painfully in my throat.

She smiled thoughtfully. "The ones we love never truly leave us. I will always be right there with you, Vash!" She said, smiling comfortingly at me. Relieved, I lie down on the soft grass again, my eyes falling shut. Rem sings her song again dreamily.

"Vash!" I hear a voice calling my name from somewhere. I ignore it, figuring it's my imagination. "VASH!" I hear again. It's a male voice, and whoever it is sounds urgent. "Vash! helloooo?" I hear, and feel someone poking me, the voice sounding annoyed. Where is it coming from?

I start to inquire to Rem about it as I open my eyes, but instead of Rem, I see Nicholas D. Wolfwood, an inch from my face, just about to pull my hair. I groan loudly.

"Geez Tongari, you sleep like a rock! I've been trying to wake you up for the past ten minutes!" I sit up and rub the sleep out of my eyes, then looking out the window. Daylight streams into the room. The cat is no longer sleeping on me, but in a sunbeam on the floor.

"We're about to go get breakfast somewhere, the girls and I. I came up here to get you so you wouldn't whine later about us leaving you behind." He said, motioning me out of bed. He looks like he just woke up himself.

"Thanks for your concern..." I said sleepily, through a yawn. He tisked.

"C'mon, the girls are waiting." He said pointing to the door.

I sigh and stand up. That was a nice dream, for a change. Oh well, I guess I'll have something good to dwell on today. I walk with Wolfwood out of my room and down the stairs, straightening my glasses. "I will always be right there with you, Vash!" I hear Rem's voice echo in my mind, and smile.

Milly and Meryl are at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for us. "Yay! it's IHOP time!" Milly yelled joyfully, clapping her hands together. We walk together out of the hotel, the suns shining down on us, embracing us with warmth and light. I stare into the deep blue, cloudless sky and smile. I have a feeling this is going to be a good day.


The end! Think this was long enough? Did I get into Vash's character well?

I'm going to tell you about the origins of this fic. In January, I heard Crossfade's song "Dead Skin" on the radio, and instantly fell in love with it. I downloaded it and listened to it a million times (If you haven't heard it, I strongly advise you get the Mp3 somehow (legally of course) and listen to it, it's beautiful!). As I was listening to it, it made me think of Vash (look up the lyrics, I don't want to put them in here or I'll get sued or something.) The chorus is mainly what reminds me of him. As I was in the shower, that song in my head, I got the idea for this fic!

Random tidbits: I made a point to make Vash notice the date, April 8, 0131. April 8th is my birthday! (it is also Trigun's creator, Yasuhiro Nightow's birthday! Yay, we have the same birthday)
I had no idea what to name this fic until my mp3 player picked Sugar Ray's "Every Morning" while I had it on shuffle. I figured that was a good name for it, and went with that. I did not include the hair darkening effect, because whenever I think about it I get sad! -cries-
I have quotes and flashbacks from both the Anime and manga (Trimax volume 5 to be exact,bits from vol. 1)

This was hard to write in present tense, I would catch myself using the wrong verb tense all the time while writing this. It's aggravating!

I was gong to turn this into turn this into a songfic using "Dead skin", but the song talks about drugs in some parts, and Vash doesn't do drugs, so it would be OOC. (I LOVE sonfics!)

Sorry the beginning and end aren't all that good. Usually Vash's dreams aren't like that. I wanted to focus on the shower. Lol, as my friend Jeremy was proofreading this, he said "There's like ten (BLEEP) pages of him standing around naked!" -evil grin-

This was the first 'emotional' fic I've ever written. I squeezed some humor in here and there, but mostly it's sad and emo. I certainly hope I did okay with it! Take a look at the Fanfiction slogan (It's up in the left corner, by the lightbulb) it says "unleash your imagination and free your soul" Well, that's what I did!

Thank you for reading my story! -huggles reader- I really hope you liked it, because I worked hard on it!

I might write more chapters to this story, only telling the how the other character's mornings go. Of course, they would all be in first person and would take place on the same day. Let me know if you think this is a good idea!

Thanks again for reading!