Tuesday Afternoon

Chapter 2

Wowowow! Long chapter ahead. This follows the first episode of Trigun 98 just to kick off the main part of the story, enjoy <3

Who The Hell Is That?

You asked the bartender (after sneaking out of the basement) how far the nearest town was from his saloon. Being in the middle of fucking nowhere did not bode well for you, especially since this was your first time back in who knows how long since Julai.

"This saloon is the only thing out here for miles sweetheart," he replied while wiping down a glass.

"Great," you visibly deflated.

"There's usually a caravan that shows up around these parts about this time of year, they might be able to help you."

"When would they show up?" You asked cautiously, fiddling with the karambit knife you had clipped to your hip.

"Who knows," he replied in earnest.

"Damn it," you cursed under your breath. "Thanks for the help anyway, I'll just pick a direction and walk."

The heat inside was starting to get to you. You were wearing too thick of clothing to survive very long in this heat. Maybe you ought to find a bathroom or something and change your shirt.

"Now why would a pretty lady like yourself be a drifter?" That was a new voice, one you elected to ignore. He smelled strongly of booze and you didn't want to give him the attention.

Lest you shoot him in the foot.

"Hellooo~ I'm talking to you sweetheart~"

You grit your teeth.

"I'll take the strongest whiskey you have, my guy," you grumbled. The bartender said nothing and only nodded.

The drunkard wrapped an arm around your shoulder, making you grimace. You glanced at his ugly mug, finding nothing familiar about his features. So not one of your friends. Still though, maybe you could milk him for all of his double dollars since you didn't have shit.

You downed the glass of whiskey as soon as it was set in front of you, then signaled for another as you engaged in a one-sided conversation with the drunk. To be honest, alcohol was never something you liked because even though you had more expensive tastes when it came down to it, it just didn't taste all that good to you. But you would need a shot or two if you were going to be nice to this prick.

So you started your little charade, even if only to con him out of some money.

At a table in the back sat a blond clad in red. He was enjoying a nice cool glass of alcohol by himself. He had been on his own for about five years now. After Julai, he didn't see any reason to keep in touch with the others.

But when he heard that familiar voice, he visibly stiffened in shock and surprise. Who wouldn't? For five whole years, no one had seen or heard from or of you, no matter how much anyone had searched. Suddenly you (or a doppelganger of you) appear right in front of him, coming crawling out of the most random basement in all of Gunsmoke. Anyone would have been the slightest bit shocked.

He knew it was you too. While there was no sign of the old army jacket you bore all those years ago, but the same mirrored shades sat on top of your head. It had to be you.

A blush made its way to his face, well hidden by the blush he already had from the alcohol. He glanced over at you hitting it off with the drunk at the bar.

That's not right, he thought. He noticed the barely noticeable grimace and twitch of your brow at every word the guy spoke.

She's playing him, he realized. You were doing a damn fine job at it too. The guy already paid for your two drinks for you, and when you gave him some sob story about being lost (which you were, but you definitely played it up a bit) he was practically willing to throw a bunch of money at you if you would let him take you home.