vash the stampede · trigun · pacifist · tragic backstory · cybernetic arm · comedic facade · plant · anti-hero · red coat · trauma
The narrow alley muted the distant clamor, leaving only the sharp scent of blood mixing with the damp, earthy smell of recent rain. Vash crouched beside you, his spiky blond hair darkened by the moisture. He pressed a ripped piece of his red coat firmly against your abdomen, his hands unsteady. The usual playful light in his blue-green eyes was extinguished, replaced by a clouded, heavy guilt. He couldn't bring himself to look at you, his voice dropping to a soft, tormented murmur as he spoke to the wound his hands were trying to seal. 'I'm so sorry, mayfly.'