Chapter Eleven – Bandages

[XI]

She wandered around the side of the tower, eyes trying in vain to reach the top. She had a long journey ahead of her, and she wanted to estimate about just how long it was going to take. She had to scale this thing; her father was at the top, and she was going after him. It wasn't going to be easy, especially since she wasn't in the greatest condition, but it was what she had to do. She didn't care if it took all night. She would do it if it killed her.

The demon was taking slow, casual steps behind her, following her. She had decided to ignore him, pretend he wasn't there unless he said something first, but she could feel his eyes watching her and it was unnerving. She wasn't really angry at him anymore - he didn't have to save her life, after all - but just because he wasn't scum didn't mean he wasn't still a demon, regardless of how human he looked. She was willing to let him live (not like you could kill him anyway, a voice in the back of her head admitted), but that didn't mean she wanted to hang around him. Okay, maybe he was a little intriguing - a demon that wasn't all bad was something she had never seen before - but that didn't mean that his presence didn't still unnerve her.

She scanned the side of the tower with her eyes, mentally planning her course of action. She would use Kalina Ann's hookshot to scale this thing. It didn't matter how long it took - the need for revenge burned strong in her heart.

"Are you gonna go?"

She didn't take her eyes off the tower, didn't bother to look at the demon as he finally spoke. "Yes. I'm going to finish him off."

"Well, you might as well forget it, 'cause you're no match for him."

She couldn't bring herself to feel angry at his somewhat demeaning comment, maybe because she secretly knew it was true. "Regardless, I must go." She responded. "I had a chance to stop him before, but I couldn't. I'm responsible for all this mess." A heavy weight seemed to settle on her as she said the words, the words she had been thinking but had yet to speak aloud. It was true; if only she hadn't fallen for his game when he was pretending to love her, if only she had seen past his lies...her guilt was one of the main factors driving her motivation.

"Responsible," the demon stated, taking a step closer to her. "Does it bother you that much?"

She finally turned to look at him, looking him hard in the eyes, which were back to being cold and serious. It was amazing, really; he had two very distinct personalities, and he switched between them more often then a certified schizophrenic.

"He's my father. Besides, who else can undo what he's done?"

He didn't say anything to that, simply stayed where he was as she readied the hookshot, hoisting it onto her shoulder, taking aim, and releasing the blade. It flew high above their heads and sunk deeply into the side of the tower. She gripped the launcher tightly, and turned to look at him one last time before she left.

"A demon like you wouldn't understand."

Leaving him with that, she pushed the button that sent her flying upwards, holding on tightly, and soon she had disappeared from his gaze.

Dante stood for a moment, glaring in the direction the girl had gone, feeling more than a little pissed. Damn her, she always managed to piss him off. She was just so ignorant. Sure, most demons were shit without an ounce of human compassion, but she didn't have to assume all of them were automatically that way. What about her race? A lot of humans were shit, too, but that didn't mean they were all bad. Likewise, some demons actually had a heart to do what was right. If him saving her life hadn't snapped her out of her stubbornness and convinced her of that, nothing would.

A demon like you wouldn't understand.

Despite everything he'd done to show otherwise, she was still convinced that at the end of the day he was just a heartless demon, destined for an evil and emotionless life.

"Father and family, huh?" He muttered. He had never known his father - he couldn't remember him, anyway - and for this he had always felt some bitterness towards him. But the fact was that his father was a full demon, and he had had enough of a heart to rebel against his own kind for the sake of the human race. Enough of a heart to fall in love with a woman who was only human. Enough of a heart to sacrifice his own powers for the good of mankind.

Vergil may not have inherited his father's heart, but he had.

"Well, I'll go, too." He muttered. That girl could never hope to take out her father, especially if he did manage to grasp Sparda's powers. And if he did manage to grasp them, the entire world would have a hard time stopping him. He wouldn't allow that to happen. He wouldn't allow his father's power to be stolen and used in such a way, a way so contrary to his will.

"But you better hurry, if you don't want me to take all the credit!" He yelled after the girl, although he knew she couldn't hear him. She was long since out of sight.

He began walking off, preparing himself for his own journey up the tower, feeling more determined than he could recall in a while. He had always had a heart to do what was right, and he had always been a hunter of demons, but he had never felt so motivated to stop something before. It was like something in him had awakened, and it seemed so obvious now. This was his purpose, his goal. To stop people like Arkham, to destroy evil before it could destroy the innocent.

Like father, like son.

He had never liked his father. He had felt a sort of bitter resentment towards him since he never grew up knowing him, since he had left his wife to raise her two sons on her own. Since he hadn't been there to protect her when demons took her life. But suddenly, it was like he held an all-new respect for him, maybe for the first time. The old wounds of anger he felt towards him seemed to have been bandaged over, healed a little. Regardless of what he had done, he had been a good demon, and a powerful one, and Dante, for the first time, felt a little proud to be Sparda's son.

[XI]

She climbed steadily, taking slow, calculated steps. The strap of the rocket launcher dug into her back, her legs were tired, and her body was sore, but she forced herself not to acknowledge these things, forced herself to shove down the fear that plagued her when she wondered what she'd encounter when she reached the top. She instead focused on her anger, her hate, and these things forced her determination to the front of her heart, overpowering any trace of fear she might have. Only when she had gotten her revenge, when she had made everything right, could her heart finally heal.

Slowly but surely, she made her way to the top, not realizing that a certain demon in red was doing the very same thing.