Chapter Text
“I knocked on Mr. Vash’s door, but the cleaners said the room’s been empty for hours,” Milly says.
Meryl doesn’t answer. She keeps packing her bag, folding her clothes with more care than necessary. Vash has slipped out again just as one of the twin suns begins to rise. For a foolish moment, she’d thought this time might be different. They hadn’t seen each other in over a week. She let herself hope that maybe, just this once, he would stay a little longer. That maybe they could spend more than a single night in the same town before he vanished again.
“It’s okay, Milly. We have to head back to December City anyway.”
Milly nods and starts her own packing.
They need to return to No Man’s Land Broadcasting headquarters for their annual conference, a week-long event where more than three hundred NMLB employees from all over the world gather at the December City office. Meryl usually dreads these things—rooms packed with journalists with inflated egos sizing each other up, supervisors talking down to her and Milly as if their reporting hasn’t brought in some of the highest ratings in the company. The only real upside is seeing her co-workers again.
Meryl opens the door to her tiny one-bedroom apartment. It’s small, but in a good part of the city, within walking distance of restaurants, shops, and museums. Since she spends so much of her life traveling after a certain Humanoid Typhoon, the place is sparsely decorated—mostly essentials, a few pieces of art on the walls, and a bookcase full of books and magazines to make it look at least somewhat lived in whenever she comes back.
Her phone buzzes while she’s cleaning out her fridge, tossing food she barely touched before it expired.
Vash:
Hi, insurance girl!
Checking if you know where I’m at now. Hint: there’s a lot of sand here. 😉
She exhales slowly and leans against the counter before replying.
Meryl:
What’s new?
Vash:
I’m in a town about 30 iles from the last one.
They’re about to have a party celebrating the remodeling of the plant facility. Wanna check it out?
Meryl:
That’s great, but I can’t.
Milly and I are back in December City for the next week or so.
For the NMLB annual conference.
We got here a few days early…
But that’s OK.
Vash stares at his phone. He hadn’t known the girls would be gone that long.
“We got here a few days early…” He remembers Meryl mentioning that she wanted to stay in the last town for a few extra days, to check out the local art shops. But she left early...
Did she want to spend more time there with him? Idiot! Why’d you have to take off so quickly?
He types back, the message feeling stupidly small compared to the sinking feeling in his chest.
Vash:
Oh. OK.
Meryl:
I’ll see you after this thing is done.
The words are simple, but something about them makes his chest feel heavier than it should.
“Meryl! Girl, it’s been a while!”
Wanda rushes over to Meryl’s desk and throws her arms around her in a bear hug.
“Hi, Wanda!” Meryl squeaks, half-laughing as she hugs her back.
“You looking forward to this thing? This is my eighth time around.” Wanda pulls back and rolls her eyes dramatically. “A bunch of big-shot journalists trying to one-up each other. The only part I’m looking forward to is the last day, when we can finally let loose and party. Heard it’s gonna be a masquerade at the big hall in City Hall. Guess No Man’s Land Broadcasting made some money last year.”
“A masquerade?” Meryl blinks. This is the first she’s heard of it.
Wanda nods and points to a poster pinned to the wall nearby.
“You can bring a plus one,” she says, wiggling her brows. “Got anyone I don’t know about?”
Meryl looks at her, startled, and quickly shakes her head. “No. I… I’ve been too busy. Milly and I just got back to December City.”
“Well, you better hurry up and find someone.” Wanda glances over at the cluster of men hovering around Milly’s desk, all offering to help with one thing or another while Milly just giggles and declines politely. “Your Milly doesn’t seem to need any help over there.”
Meryl follows her gaze and can’t help smiling. Milly has always drawn people in without even trying. There’s something about her warmth, the way she makes everyone feel seen.
“Hey!” Wanda turns back to her, eyes sparkling. “Let me help you find a date.”
“Wanda—”
“I hooked Sarah from Accounting up with Deryl,” Wanda says proudly, leaning in to whisper, “That girl was so shy, I swear half the company didn’t even know she existed. But Deryl noticed.”
“Stop distracting my reporters, Wanda!”
The gruff voice comes from the corner office.
“Calm down, Roberto. Everyone deserves a break from you,” Wanda shoots back without missing a beat.
“Meryl doesn’t need your terrible matchmaking,” Roberto says as he steps out, arms folded. “She’s too busy chasing the hottest story in No Man’s Land—Vash the Stampede.”
Chasing. That’s what she’s been doing for the past year. Meryl’s smile fades.
She had told herself she was helping him—helping them—heal by staying close. She had seen pieces of his past, felt the weight of his grief, the unbearable pain of losing the people he loved most. Somewhere along the way, her feelings had changed into something deeper, something harder to explain away. And for a while, she thought maybe he had, too.
But he still runs. And she still chases.
Maybe it’s me, she thinks. Maybe I’m drawn to men who always leave.
Her first boyfriend had been in high school. They were young, naïve, and convinced that promises meant forever. Then he moved away senior year, and she never saw him again.
In college, it happened again. He was two years older, graduated before she did, found a job in Augusta City, and told her he was leaving the next day as if it were nothing.
Then there was the one at Bernardelli Insurance Society. Smart, charming, ambitious—the kind of man who made a new hire feel less lost. For a while, she really thought he might be different. But he left, too, chasing bigger opportunities and prettier women who could help him climb higher. The last she heard, he was a vice president at Bernardelli and on his fifth girlfriend.
Meryl exhales and forces herself back to the present. Maybe I really do need help finding the right person.
“Sure,” she says suddenly. “Why not?”
Wanda and Roberto stop their bickering and stare at her. Wanda recovers first, grinning so wide it’s almost alarming. “I’ll get right on it!”
“Get to what, Ms. Wanda?” Milly asks as she walks over.
“Finding Meryl a date for the masquerade,” Wanda says brightly, then gives Meryl a teasing wink. “And maybe more.”
Milly looks at Wanda, then at Meryl, whose face is already burning pink.
“Oh. But Meryl… what about Mr. V—?”
“It’s nothing, Milly,” Meryl says too quickly, cutting her off. “We’re just friends. Besides, it’ll be nice to meet more people at the company.”
Milly’s expression softens into a small frown. “OK. If that’s what you want.”
“Be ready tomorrow, Meryl!” Wanda says, clasping her hands together in delight.
“Oh, brother,” Roberto mutters, rolling his eyes. He looks at Wanda. “Can we go home now?”
Maybe this is a good start.
Walking home that evening, Meryl finds herself smiling as she remembers how excited Wanda looked when she agreed to the matchmaking idea—eyes sparkling like she’d just been handed the most important assignment of the year. She pushes away the image of Milly frowning.
The evening air in December City is cool, the streets busy with people drifting home from work. As she turns onto her block, Meryl slows, then stops in front of a boutique she’s passed dozens of times before.
The dress is still there in the front window. It’s a classic design—simple and elegant, the fabric flowing naturally to the ground. Delicate crystals in ice blue, teal, and white are hand-sewn along the bodice, catching the light in soft flashes that trace the shape of the gown.
Meryl has stopped here many times whenever she’s back in December City, lingering just long enough to admire it before continuing on her way. She never had an excuse to buy something so extravagant. Her life has never really called for it. But tonight she stands there a little longer, studying the dress as it glimmers beneath the shop lights.
Maybe it’s time she stopped waiting for reasons. Maybe it’s time she chose something for herself. And tomorrow night, for once, Meryl Stryfe won’t be chasing anyone.