This is a little something that won't be appearing until much later. Like I'm talking many chapters from now. It takes place after Nero defeats Sanctus and Sarla decides to take the Yamato back because she feels Nero is not strong enough to handle it. Plz Review. Thnx for reading this story up until now. I have a ways to go before I get to his part of the fic.
"Well, it appears you found him," An all too familiar voice interrupted us the same moment an enormous broadsword blocked my swing instead of Yamato.
"Dante," I greeted with a smirk.
An amused grin pulled his lips, "I didn't think you'd have this much trouble. Has old age left you rusty?"
"You don't possibly believe you should be the main event now, do you?" I scoffed.
"You know you sound like someone else I know. He said those exact same words to me. Granted, he was referring to someone else though, when he said that," I wasn't quite sure what he meant by that, but I could only think that it was Vergil he was speaking of. The odd light in his eyes confirmed it.
I didn't really try to say anything, and Nero didn't try to make a go at me either.
"Look, kid, you got no chance against her. She's on an entirely different level from you. A swordsman trained by your father is way out of your league," Dante turned his attention to the labored Nero, who I realized was also being blocked by Rebellion. The ghostly figure of Vergil's devil trigger lent its strength. I could already tell Dante was struggling to hold him back, let alone both of us.
"What do you mean? I don't even know my father, so how could you?" I took the opportunity to launch myself backward from lock of blades, releasing some of the strain put on Dante.
"You could say I knew him," Dante scoffed, "One of the few," He added, "Aside from this lovely lady," He smiled at me.
"This boy is not worthy of Yamato, Dante. I don't know what you were thinking, giving him such a powerful devil arm. A blade of a son of Sparda," I scolded. Even if Nero was my son, I could not allow this. He was not ready to wield his father's blade. The shadow of Vergil's inner devil standing over Nero, was proof enough of that.
"What do you know of it, you bitch!" Nero snapped.
Bitch? Did my son seriously just call me a bitch? Whether he knew I was his mother or not, and whether I hadn't been a mother to him didn't matter. How dare the punk call me a bitch!
"You little punk! You're nothing but a novice! If anyone is worthy of Yamato, it's either Dante or myself!"
"Sarla, I told you it would stay in the family!" Dante turned on me, and our eyes widened when his words registered in our heads. Damn that Dante, he never could keep a fucking secret!
"I don't care! Am I not part of the family too? It may not have been legal but my relationship with him should have been proof enough of my status within your family! Wouldn't you say bearing his son, your nephew at that, is enough to be considered your family?" Dammit! I'd gone too far as well! If Nero found out I was his mother...
... But then did it really matter? He was old enough. He could fight devils, therefor protect himself. He'd defeated Sanctus a year ago, Dante had just stood on the sidelines.
I wanted, Nero to know ...
...But how would he react? He would surely hate me. He had to. I abandoned him. I'd left him alone, even erased and manipulated his memories of me.
"Hey, why don't you answer a few questions here!" Nero hadn't relented. He still held Dante in a draw between their swords, "If you know my father, then shouldn't you have known me? And what do you mean stay in the family? I'd asked you before if it was really okay for me to keep it! And would you two establish your relationship with each other so that I know!" He demanded. Perhaps he did take my temper, like Dante had said.
"You definately inherited that temper from you mother. You may look like your father, but you act just like your mother. Or how she used to, anyway," Dante looked almost fond of Nero. He was right, Nero was an almost exact replica of Vergil when he was that age. It was an uncanny resemblance. However, where he inherited Vergil's good looks ... very good looks, he had inherited personality it seemed, from me.
"So what you know my mother too? Why don't you just spit it out?" He pulled his lips back to reveal gritted teeth.
"Sarla here, is my brother, Vergil's, lover? Does that sound good, Sarla? Anyway, she was also his first and only apprentice. She also gave birth to his son-"
"You said she was my father's apprentice!" Nero interrupted, but he looked like he was about to fall backward when he realized what he'd said, "You?" I could hear the need to cry coming from his throat, "You're my... my-"
"Yes, she's your mother. Surprising right? You look nothing like her," Dante finally just spilled it all. His nonchalance though, was almost gut clenching.
Nero merely stared at me like I'd run over his puppy. I could only stare back, with what was no doubt on of the coldest gazes he'd ever seen. I turned my head away, trying not to look into the blue orbs that he'd inherited from his father. If I looked at those eyes, I would only lose face.
"What does it matter? To you I'm just a stranger, aren't I? Don't go getting upset over something you never knew or ever had to lose in the first place," I said indifferently. How many years had it been? Eighteen years? Really? Eighteen years since I had given birth to my one and only child. My son, who stood right before my eyes, was born almost eighteen years ago, and I couldn't even allow myself the simple joy of having met him again after sixteen years of separation.
I couldn't enjoy because I couldn't keep it. I couldn't stay by him now that he knew. He would only shun me, turn me away in disgust. Could I blame him? I would be disgusted, surely, if my mother had given me away like I had given him to The Order.
"What are you, just some big block of ice?" I hung my head, the overpowering weight of everyone's emotions was proving too much. Nero's aura was just a huge blur. I couldn't get a real read on it, "If you're my mother, then I think it matters!"
Those words.
Coming from his mouth.
...They...
... Made me feel
...happy. Even if he'd spoken out of anger. I mattered, to him. In some way, maybe not positively, I mattered to him.
"All I've ever dreamed of," Nero paused, I heard the deep breath he took, "was if a day occured, where I would be able to meet my parents,"
There was a long silence before I sighed, looked to him, and then realized the tears I'd been holding for so many years were brimming over, "Well," I attempted t stiffle the onslaught of tears, "You've met one parent,"
