[It's cruel to laugh after an admission like that, but Vash does anyway. He realizes what he's done only after the ragged sound has wrenched itself from his chest. A hand comes to rest over his mouth, metal fingers thankfully avoiding outright clapping against the more vulnerable flesh. He closes his eyes, breathes in slow, then counts to three.

Only once he's done, does he lower his hand.]

I - we didn't either. Maybe none of this would have happened if we had. [Wolfwood has no idea just how deep that statement goes. Maybe if Vash is lucky, he never will. But even by admitting as much out loud, he's opened himself to another line of questioning.]

There are days where it's harder. Days where I wish I could give up. [Does he mean his morals, or entirely? Vash isn't saying.] But I don't get to have that luxury. Not when others have suffered more.