So, it's been a while guys. Sorry about that. I have excuses, they really don't matter. I just want everyone to know that I greatly appreciate all of the comments and I am really sorry that it's been so long since I last posted. I do promise to finish this particular side story by the end of October and do my damndest to update more often. Thank you.

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The sun was setting over the ocean as a red convertible sped down the road. Dante was wearing a bemused grin, Yuki was sulking with her arms crossed in front of her chest.

"It doesn't say anything about it on the rule board," she said sulkily.

"I don't think they anticipated a little girl pistol whipping a grown man," Dante replied, his amusement evident in his voice.

"I ran out of paintballs," she shrugged. Dante laughed out loud.

It had been a really fun day after Yuki finished her homework. He would never tell his daughter, but Dante hated it when Yuki was grounded just as much as Yuki did. In fact, the only way he convinced Trish to let him take her out for the day was if he guaranteed that her work would be done and the activity was educational. Dante decided that paintball fit the bill. To be fair, his idea of educational may have differed from Trish's.

"It's still not fair. If it doesn't say anything in the rules how can they ban me for life?"

Dante shrugged.

"It's their business, they can do whatever they want."

Yuki slumped down in the seat. She had loved being able to shoot moving targets. Trying to anticipate where they were going to move, staying one step ahead and shooting with accuracy at the same time. Practicing with her father just wasn't the same. He was knowledgeable, which meant he would always know what she was thinking before she had a chance to act. Yuki knew that every time she landed a punch or kick it was only because Dante let her. But these people? Amateurs. Picking them off had been cake. Twenty five minutes in the first round she had already got everybody out. The second round took her only twenty. It was in the third round that she ran into a snag.

She was determined to beat her time and at thirteen minutes she had shot all but one of the players. Actually, she had shot him. He was the first person she went after because he had been boasting about what a great shot he was. The cheating bastard had been wearing a hoodie at the time and when she crossed paths with him again he wasn't. Somehow he had managed to avoid her until he was the only one left. Yuki was upset because technically she should have had her victory in 13 minutes, 9 seconds, but this guy was ruining her time. After the clock hit 19 minutes she got really angry. She still had no idea where he was and she wasn't going to beat her previous time. It was at that moment that the boy decided to ambush her from where he had been crouching. She heard him running up from behind and without the slightest hesitation she turned and chucked the gun at him. Yuki had a really great throw and even better aim. The guy was out before he hit the ground.

"Besides," Dante continued, "I'm sure that a new rule will be added to the board by tomorrow. You should be proud."

The corners of Yuki's lips twitched up in a brief smile.

"And there's no way he can deny that he got knocked out by a little girl," she responded, brightening. Dante reached over and ruffled her hair, an affectionate gesture Yuki had learned to appreciate.

"He was out cold," Dante agreed, a pleased smile planted boldly on his face. Sure, Trish was going to give him hell for this, but he couldn't help but be proud of Yuki. The guy got what he deserved in Dante's mind.

They pulled up to the front of the Devil May Cry and Yuki made to get out of the car. Dante grabbed her shoulder, pushing her back in the seat abruptly. She turned to him questioningly.

Dante's face no longer held any trace of humor. He was looking steadily into his shop with a dark expression. Yuki followed his gaze to the front of the Devil May Cry. The door was swinging limply from one hinge, one window had a crude picture spray-painted on it and it was clear that whoever had done this was still inside. The car was silent for a long minute. Finally Dante reached over his daughter to grab her seatbelt, clicked it into place and started the car.

"What are you doing?" Yuki asked indignantly.

"Taking you home."

Dante shifted into drive and pulled back onto the road. Yuki squirmed around in her seat to see someone fleeing from the Devil May Cry.

"You're letting him get away! Go after him!"

"I will not and sit down." Dante's voice was hard with the slightest tinge of anger. He had learned a lot of self control since Yuki had been born, and it was taking every ounce of it for him not to go after that guy.

"Come on, it's just one guy. You could get him in no time!" Yuki could not for the life of her figure out why her father was driving away instead of kicking that guy's ass.

"I'm not leaving you in the car." Dante's voice was gruff. He knew he was making the right decision, the safe decision, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"I could help you. He didn't look so big." Yuki looked at her dad hopefully. Dante didn't waiver.

"He was at least twice as tall as you and probably more than four times your weight." Dante responded rationally.

"So?"

Dante looked over at Yuki and saw that she genuinely thought that she was a match for the mystery vandal.

"So he would crush you." It was getting harder for him to keep the anger from his voice.

Yuki looked hurt. Dante had never told her that she wouldn't be able to do something, at least not flat out like this.

"Size doesn't matter," she retorted stubbornly, remembering when he was teaching her how to use an opponent's weight against them.

"As long as the little one knows what they're doing."

That stung worse.

"I know what I'm doing." Yuki growled at her father.

"You know as much as a 9-year-old." Dante growled back.

Tears of anger and hurt pricked at Yuki's eyes. She thought she had done well today, but looking back on the day everything seemed childish now.

"Well maybe that's because I have a crappy teacher." She was upset and just wanted to say something that would hurt Dante as much as he had hurt her.

Unfortunately, Dante was dealing with the anger of having his shop vandalized, the frustration of not being able to do anything about it and the horror of imagining Yuki being so cocky that she thought she could beat up a man who roughly equaled four of her. That compounded onto Yuki's comment made him lash out more childishly than his daughter.

"If I'm holding you back so much there's really no reason for us to continue your training."

Dante pulled into the parking garage and shut off the car. Yuki was out and slamming the door shut before the key was out of the ignition. With his long stride Dante caught up to her with little effort. He pushed the button for the elevator and they waited silently.

They were at the point of the fight where a simple apology from either of them would end it. He would realize that he had been an ass and she would accept that maybe she had a few more things to learn about combat. They both would have been better off because of the argument and no one would have hard feelings. Naturally, neither of them spoke. They were too much alike.

The elevator was taking its sweet time coming down and Yuki was finally fed up with just standing there.

"I'm taking the stairs," she announced, and turned away. Dante snagged the scruff of her jacket and dragged her back.

"No, you're not."

Even under normal circumstances Dante wouldn't have let her go into the stairwell alone, but he wouldn't have been such a jerk about it. Then again, under normal circumstances she wouldn't have wanted too. As it was she was rapidly reaching her breaking point which meant she was either going to cry or hit him. She was in favor of the latter.

"Wouldn't want a scary maid to throw her feather duster at me," she said sullenly.

"Yes Yuki," Dante responded sarcastically, "I go to great lengths to ensure your safety against feathers. Now you know why you've never had a down quilt."

The elevator door opened and Dante led her in, still holding onto the jacket. Only when the doors were closed did he let go. The silent trend continued all the way to their floor, and Dante once again grabbed the jacket and led Yuki to the door. He let go when they were securely inside and he was sure Yuki wasn't going to do something stupid. She was glaring at him the whole time.

"Bet you're glad you were here to drag little 9-year-old me home. Then again, apparently it's not that much of a challenge." Yuki was just prodding for a reason to yell. This was the first time she had ever gotten into a fight of this caliber with her dad; she wasn't entirely sure what to do so yelling seemed like a good option.

"Yuki," he began, also wanting to yell, "just go to your room." By the grace of some ethereal being he kept that urge in check.

"Why? I haven't done anything wrong." She argued. Now she was just being stubborn.

"Because you're still grounded, now go." He was rapidly losing his patience with Yuki and even more rapidly losing control of himself.

Yuki looked him dead in the eye.

"I hate you." And she stalked off to her room.

Dante didn't breathe until he heard the loud slam of her door. There were too many things happening at once. Luckily Trish picked that moment to come home.

"Hey babe, I was thinking sushi tonight. I probably shouldn't try to cook again until we replace the pan I ruined." She turned to her husband and was startled by his expression. "Dante…?"

"I'm going out," he stated simply and brushed past Trish as he went out the door.

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Dante was moving swiftly down the streets, his target in his sights. He welcomed the thrill of the hunt and the rush at the promise of violence. The target was standing outside a bar entertaining a group of his friends. Dante grinned and strode towards the man with the bandaged nose.

"So I've already beat four of them back," he was saying, "and then this enormous guy throws a fist in my face. Sure, it hurt, but I couldn't let that distract me…GACK!"

His story was cut short by Dante's hand around his throat. In one swift motion Dante lifted him off his feet and pinned him to the wall.

"Don't mind me," Dante said casually, "I just need to have a little chat with your buddy."

The surrounding group of men was startled to say the least. It's not every day that an enormous white-haired man tosses around one of your friends as if he's a rag doll.

"H-hey," one of the drunker ones protested, "you, you need to let him go or we're going to kick your ass."

The men looked at each other uncertainly, not entirely sure if they would back the drunk one up if it came to blows. Luckily, Dante made the decision for them.

"I get it, he's your friend, you've got his back," Dante said in a very reasonable tone, then leveled Ebony at his face. "But if you don't want more holes in that head then nature intended you probably want to get the fuck out of here."

They all scattered, no one faster than the one who had challenged him. Dante smiled to himself briefly, holstered Ebony, and turned his icy gaze on the man still dangling from his hand. He lowered him enough so that his feet could touch the ground but did not relax his grip.

"What's your name?" Dante asked in an almost conversational tone.

"Keith," the man squeaked.

"Keith," Dante began, a thread of menace in his voice, "my shop was broken into earlier today. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you?"

Keith's eyes widened.

"Hey man," he choked, "why would you think I had any part in that?" He was gasping at Dante's tightening hand.

"That's a good question," Dante was toying with him and loving it. "Maybe because my kid broke your nose earlier today and you have a score to settle. Maybe because I saw someone with similar height and hair color running from my shop. Or maybe," he pulled something out of his long red coat and put it in Keith's line of sight, "maybe because I found your wallet lying on the floor."

The blood flushed from Keith's face. His bandaged nose had begun bleeding again and was rapidly soaking through the gauze.

"Please," he whimpered.

Dante raised an eyebrow.

"Please don't hurt me."

Dear god, the kid was actually starting to cry. Dante gave a disgusted scoff and released his grip. Keith crumpled onto the pavement. He looked up with wide eyes at Dante who was crouching down to loom over him.

"Here's what's going to happen," Dante no longer made any effort to veil the threat in his tone, "I'm going to walk away, and when I go to my shop tomorrow all of the damage will have magically disappeared. Get it?"

Keith was past the point of coherent speech so he just nodded meekly. Dante flashed a terrifying smile.

"Good boy."

With that he rose and left, feeling better than he had all night.

While on his way back home Dante stumbled upon a demon attempting to lure a young woman back to his nest. Dante followed the pair for a short while and just before the demon could make its move Dante engaged.

The demon was surprisingly difficult to defeat. By the time he dealt the killing blow, Dante's shirt was well torn and there was a stream of blood flowing down the side of his face from a rapidly healing wound.

After giving the human woman some sarcastic and slightly chiding remarks, and ensuring that she got back to the crowded sidewalk safely, Dante leaned back against the wall of a building to think. Now that he had had a chance to work off his frustrations he could recall the day's events through a filter of reason. He ran through his last conversation with Yuki in his head, the last words she had said specifically. Dante knew that kids told their parents that they hated them all the time, but not Yuki, and not to him. There was no doubt in his mind that he deserved her words, however. Sure, she had acted childishly, but she's 9, acting childishly is her job description.

Dante sighed and ran a gloved hand through his hair. He heaved himself off the wall with a grunt. Without any idea of how he was going to patch things up with his daughter, Dante headed home.

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It was quiet as Dante made his way down the hall to his apartment. He slipped inside and closed the door quietly behind him. Dante turned, and ducked just in time to avoid a coffee table that came whizzing by his head.

"What the hell?" He yelled at the mystery assailant.

"What did you do?" Trish was speaking in a low, dangerous voice.

"At least it wasn't a motorcycle this time," Dante muttered to himself, being reminded of the first time he had met his wife.

"Excuse me?" her voice didn't lose the deadly edge.

"Nothing," he answered evasively.

"Why did Yuki lock herself in her room?" Trish demanded.

Dante moved around Trish to the living room and sat heavily on the couch.

"I screwed up." Dante admitted bleakly.

"Well then don't just sit there," Trish's tone had become just a little softer, "go apologize."

"Parents are allowed to do that?" He hadn't even considered that option.

"Of course they are," Trish almost laughed. She walked over to sit next to her husband. "Go," she ordered.

Dante leaned towards her for a quick kiss then stood and went to Yuki's room. Trish watched as Dante knocked a couple times, tried to speak with her through the door and finally looked over helplessly.

"Just go in, Dante."

Trish was a little fed up with her daughter's stubbornness. Yuki hadn't even come out for dinner yet. She also didn't like seeing Dante this miserable, there was no way he did something bad enough to warrant this behavior from her.

Dante knocked once more and let himself in. Trish sat back in the couch deciding to wait for the two of them to come out with the whole thing put behind them.

She didn't have to wait long. Moments after entering Dante came back out and walked towards her, something clenched in his fist.

"That was quick. Would she not even talk to you?" Now Trish was more than just a little annoyed, "give me a minute with her, I'll…"

"Trish." Dante interrupted, holding out the note that was clutched in his hand, "Yuki's gone."