Welcome to the rewrite. Still not for the faint of heart.

"Home, sweet home."

Jaune Arc's home life wasn't the greatest.

Being an Arc, it seemed everyone expected him to be a warrior, which would have been fine. If the style his parents were forcing him to learn wasn't sword-and-board.

It didn't help that his most of his sisters were already successful huntsmen, or well on their way. It also didn't help that his parents didn't even know why he wasn't capable of learning the Arc family sword-and-being-bored style (because really, what cool monster slayer uses a shield? Come on, people, get it together). It surely didn't help that he was the only male child in his family.

It didn't help that he really just wanted to go off and do his own thing.

Seriously, he actually liked the Grimm, or liked their appearance at least.

As a six year old, he didn't really get all the noise about the Grimm. Didn't really care either. Becoming a huntsmen sounded cool, but way too serious for his liking.

He'd really rather be something that was still cool, but more suited to him, and the lifestyle he wanted to lead.

He wanted to be a wandering hero.

After all, what could be better? He could help people out, get into cool fights, and explore the world! A winning combo, as far as Jaune was concerned.

So he had a little(lot) of wanderlust. Could you blame him? His parents kept him on a fairly tight leash, probably because they knew he'd be off doing his own thing the moment they let him.

What really sucked about his parents' training was their strictness. They refused to let him learn anything but the Arc sword-and-turtle style. Seriously, what was with that? It was way too rigid for him. At least their exercises helped him put on muscle, which was always good. No matter how much he complained, though, they would always say that the Arc sword-and-does-he-even-have-to-say-it?-shield style was right for his build, whatever that meant. Even his sisters were allowed to learn other styles, and ones of their own choosing too! So not fair. How come he was the only one they forced to learn the Arc sword-and-door style? (1)

Young Jaune Arc contemplated all of this and more, strolling through the woods behind his house. The Grimm usually left him alone, for one reason or another, which meant it was a perfect thinking spot for him, and no one else. His family, of course, had probably noticed his 'disappearing' (he walked out the front door) act already, and were probably running around like chickens with their heads chopped off.

I wonder if there is any pizza still left in the fridge . . .

As Jaune pondered this, he was unaware of someone else in his special place. Someone looking for him, specifically.

Someone who proceeded to apply their hand to the back of Jaune's neck with extreme prejudice, knocking him unconscious.

Jaune was rather confused to find himself locked in a cell upon awaking. He admittedly had a bad habit of falling asleep wherever, but still, even for him, this was a little much.

That confusion was only doubled by the man standing in the middle of the cell.

Then the man began speaking.

"From today onwards, you are to be known only as Dante. Your partner here at Devil May Cry shall be Vergil." The man said, gesturing to a black-haired boy on the other side of the cell.

Even as the realization flashed across Jaune's face, the man continued his tirade.

"Welcome to your new home."

Jaune didn't take to his new name well. After all, he was Jaune, always would be.

He did think Dante was a pretty cool name, though. Vergil, his partner, disagreed, but he was a disagreeable fellow.

"C'mon Vergil, cheer up. If you keep pouting like that, they'll probably make us do even more exercising, and trust me, neither of us want that." Jaune said.

Vergil just snorted.

"Would that truly be so bad? The more strength we gather, the greater our chances of escaping." Vergil once again disagreed. See, he really was just a disagreeable guy.

"One step at a time, Vergil. One step at a time." Jaune deflected.

Suffice to say, he and Vergil got along famously.

"Is it really that hard to cheer up for your own brother, Vergil?" He said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

After all, Jaune finally knew what it was like to have a brother.

"Hnn." He disagreed, shaking his shoulder to remove Jaune's hand.

. . . and it was totally overrated.

Here, Jaune released a sigh.

In the two weeks since he had been captured, he had found himself sighing a lot. At least, a lot compared to his usual.

He blamed it on Vergil. Vergil was difficult like that.

"C'mon Vergil, it's not that bad. All they've done so far is train us, and that means when the bad stuff finally hits, we'll be prepared, right?"

". . .True enough, I suppose." He conceded.

"Why did I ever believe you?" Asked Vergil, deflecting yet another training rod, before using his own to quickly break both of his opponent's arms.

"I'm a believable guy." Jaune replied, breaking yet another knee. Honestly, it had stopped being interesting after the first three times he'd done it. Now, it was just getting gross.

But seriously, how was he supposed to know that they'd pit them against their fellow prisoners? He wasn't psychic.

Though, all things considered, it could be worse. After all, at least he was finally getting some use out of all the training his parents had put him through, right?

"A brute as always, brother." Vergil noted.

Dante, who was simply using his hands and feet, made sure to break his opponents leg before replying.

"Me? A brute? You must have me confused with somebody else. I'm just classy." He defended.

A sigh escaped Vergil. Again.

"Whatever works, brother. Whatever works." Vergil decided to just let him have this one. It wasn't worth arguing over.

A moment of silence passed as yet more prisoners were brought in to face them.

"Hey, at least we get some actual combat experience this way, right?" Jaune pointed out/asked.

And for once, Vergil actually outright agreed.

"That we do, brother. That, we do."

(1) As the only male heir and only one among his siblings, and one who hasn't learned a style of his own yet, his parents really want to make sure he carries on the family tradition started by his late ancestor.