Knives didn't reply, ignoring the question as he continued to concentrate on his hair and cutting the back.
He disliked glancing in the mirror and seeing Vash still standing there. Icy blues wandered to look at his brother's fidgeting hands. The Plant watched them ball into fists and watched how the other man's eyes lowered. For a moment, Knives thought of speaking, but held it back.
He would have just swept out of town to assuage the guilt and shame that threatened to drown him now… and yet Vash had to make it so difficult by showing up again.
Listening to Vash speak, and quickly running out of hair to trim up, he finally ran a hand through his hair to shake out any bits of remaining cut hair. He looked in the mirror briefly - it was choppy, but it would do. The scissors clacked against the counter as he set them down at last. And then he sighed, bracing himself against the basin for a moment before looking up again as Vash asked his question.
Their eyes met briefly before Knives broke contact.
At last Knives spoke, “No.”
No, he wouldn’t have opened the door.
No, Vash didn’t need a reason to bring anything. He could come whenever he liked even if Knives would prefer Vash keep his distance.
And no, he hadn’t intended on telling his brother anything at all.
That was his answer to all of it.
Knives' lips were pressed thin and he finally turned to face Vash once more, drawing himself tall. He moved past Vash at the door, only glancing at the helmet he had brought for him. The longer this went on the more antsy the "elder" brother became. Would it be so bad to just leave right now? He could grab his bag, it was always packed, get on his bike, and leave. Skip all of this and just find somewhere he could be alone. The idea of going to the ship wreckage was growing more inviting by the moment.
It wasn't even that he didn't want to see Vash... he just.. Shame and guilt crashed in waves where he went and wherever he looked. Especially when he saw his brother.
A hand ran through his hair again, scratching hard at the nape of his neck and sending loose hair falling to the ground. He walked around a corner and went to grab his bag. He was already dressed in civilian clothing, clothes that he had needed to get used to as opposed to his usual suit. Knives slung the duffle bag over his shoulder and moved briskly through the small house to collect whatever else he might have left behind.
Finally, Knives grabbed his keys and grabbed the handles to drag the new helmet off of the little table outside of the bathroom.
He was leaving. Now. He couldn't do this.
"I'm leaving, Vash. You shouldn't stay in one place for too long either." The planet was now crawling with those people who would want to take them and experiment on them... or better yet, for what he had done, the humans may just kill them outright.
The door clattered, swinging lightly as he walked down the steps to dump his things into the sidecar.