Chapter Text
If I could’ve held that hand… or jumped with him… would everything have changed? That day—I never forgot it, and I never will.
Will there ever be someone waiting for me, hoping for my return? Or was it all just me, the only one who felt those emotions?
Maybe to him… it was all just hatred and resentment—toward me.
He thought that my mother… our mother… had abandoned him and loved me instead. If only I had the courage to be strong—to save her. But I didn’t. For as long as I live, I’ll remain the coward who always needed someone to protect him.
But… is there anyone left to protect me now?
"Dante"
Vergil—my brother, my other half, as our mother used to say. He always protected me, always stood guard over my existence. But years passed, and his selfish ambitions—yes, selfish—drove us apart.
Is it wrong that I still long for his embrace?
That I left my shop and friends behind just to be near him—to hear his heartbeat—to stand beside him again?
When I saw an opportunity, I took it blindly. But that chance was never mine—it belonged to Nero, his son… the one he didn’t even know existed.
I saw the way Vergil looked at Nero—with the same warmth, the same kindness, the same protective love that the young Vergil once gave me. That look… that tenderness… that feeling of safety and love.
"Dante"
Will he ever look at me that way again?
After we came back from hell—it was six long months of silence. No words. Only my forced jokes here and there, and Vergil remained silent as ever. In the end, I surrendered to the silence.
Still, those were the calmest days of my life. Hearing the heartbeat… the one I once killed… somehow made me feel safe.
"Dante"
But after we returned from hell… he ran. Not literally, but he stayed as far away from me as he could. I heard he got an apartment near Nero’s city, visiting him from time to time to train him.
He hasn’t spoken to me, not once, since we set foot back in the human world.
Lady said he even started taking morrison jobs . Well, at least he’s not trying to destroy the world anymore.
But why? Why…? Aren’t we family?
Aren’t... I ...his family, just like Nero is?
Not even a single phone call… why, Vergil?
"Dante!"
Anger surged through me—I burned the magazine lying over my face.
Yeah, I was in the shop, same as always, magazine over my head, feet on the desk.
Then she called—oh, of course she did.
I groaned. “What is it now?”
Lady looked at me with that worried stare. “Dante, when are you going to pay your debts, you idiot? Get up and work already!”
Heh. I knew she wouldn’t ask about my feelings, or the ashes of the burned magazine, or the empty pizza boxes and bottles everywhere. I guess she’s used to it by now… but there was still a trace of concern in her voice. Nice to know someone cares, even just a little.
Lady thought's
He looked like a mess, as usual. But it’s hard not to feel pity—he lost his brother. We all thought once he got him back, he’d find purpose again. But it’s been three months since their return, and nothing has changed. Only sadness remains.
(Dante)
He dragged himself to the kitchen, hearing Lady’s voice again:
“Morrison gave me a mission—with Nero. We’re going to the Frozen Valley; some demons to wipe out. You’re coming with me, no arguments. Be ready.”
And she left before hearing his reply.
Great. With the kid. Haven’t seen him since Vergil came back. Guess I’ve been erased from the family notebook. Ha. What a dark joke.
He took a half-empty bottle from the table, finished it, and sighed in exhaustion.
He needed sleep… maybe another magazine to cover his face. He hadn’t touched a bed in years—and he wasn’t planning to now.
He woke up to Lady dragging him out for work—definitely not in the mood.
They arrived at the meeting point—supposed to meet Nero there too.
But something felt off. A powerful demonic aura—one that matched his own—was nearby. Not Nero.
He knew whose it was. He could feel the footsteps, the heartbeat… that calm, familiar heartbeat that made him feel safe again.
Vergil.
Three months without him, and Dante felt his soul return. But fear replaced relief.
He wasn’t ready. There’d be a fight—there always was. Maybe he should run.
Lady’s sharp gaze stopped him; she sensed his fear and readied her weapons.
How could he show weakness in front of her?
Pull yourself together, Dante.
Vergil arrived, calm as ever.
Lady glanced between them, realizing the tension. She felt trapped between family drama and demonic trouble.
Vergil’s cold eyes met hers—then shifted to Dante. No anger, no sadness, just… looking.
Lady raised an eyebrow as if asking, “Where’s Nero?”
Vergil replied flatly, “He’s sick. I took his mission instead.”
Sick? So now he cares about his son’s health?
Unbelievable. Three months, and Nero already means more to him than I ever did.
I tried for years—and failed miserably. I actually envy Nero for having that power over Vergil.
A power I’ll never have.
But when he looked at me… just for a second… I felt warmth.
I wish I could stop feeling this way.
I’m such a fool—to love a brother who never has, and never will, love me back.
Finally, Dante forced a smile and said:
“So, where’s this ‘weak demon’ we’re supposed to hunt, huh? Let’s get this party started.”
He said it lightly, but his fake grin was flawless—he’s been pretending for so long, it’s second nature now.
All he really wanted… was for the day to end quickly.
Or maybe… that’s just what he told himself.
Lady said, “This way.”
She could feel the tension—like if someone struck a match, the whole forest would explode.