The same heavy, downcast mood seemed to prevail at Devil May Cry. Dante had returned home only a few nights ago, after he had disappeared for a week after going out to drink that night. This in itself had concerned Trish, causing her to leap up with concern as the door opened, revealing the red-clad Demon Hunter. She had grown even more concerned when she had seen his unnatural quiet demeanor, and his pale face.
She felt a huge block of icy fear lodge inside her stomach and chest, fearing that Dante had undergone the painful change of turning into a vampire. Her fears were soon ill founded when she watched him move to the fridge, take out a beer and flop back into his favorite chair, guzzling the contents of the can with one gulp.
He sat there morosely, staring at the flames. Trish swallowed nervously and glanced at him quickly before quickly averting her eyes and stared at the fireplace too, as though trying to search out for whatever it was that was so interesting. It was while she was watching the flames as they performed their deadly dance, that she realized that she had never seen Dante act in such a way. All she knew was that she did not like it, and that she was scared.
For the rest of the evening, Trish tip-toed around Dante, his sour, bitter mood so palpable and tangible that it was almost as though there were three people in the room instead of just two. It hung around in the air like a dark ghost, and Trish could feel its eyes upon her, even though Dante never looked away from the fireplace.
At length, tired of Dante sitting so sullenly by himself, she grabbed a can of beer from the fridge and placed it at his side. Dante took it in his hand automatically, without looking at her and then drank it down. Trish stared at him in shock.
'Dante...' Dante remained still. 'Dante. What's wrong?' Dante slowly, robotically turned towards her, his eyes shining slightly with a look that she did not recognize. 'Dante?' It was then that the devil hunter suddenly seemed to break down into shuddering gasps.
'I failed...' his voice was hoarse, a low rasping moan. 'I failed, Trish...I failed.' Trish was shocked into silence. 'The dragon's real,' Dante groaned. 'I was a fool to try and suggest that it wasn't. The dragon is real and there's nothing I can do about it. I can't fight a monster like that. I fight demons. Not dragons. I couldn't even save his life...'
'Who's life? Dante, you're not making any sense!' The hunter suddenly grew deadly silent and his eyes welled up with more tears. He shook his head angrily, growling softly to himself, as though ashamed of his tears. Trish sighed, seeing him do this. Dante caught sight of her, mistaking her blank stare for a look of pity. He glared at her.
'Stop looking at me like that!' he snapped.
'Like what?' Dante waved a hand an irritation.
'Like that!' Trish mirrored his gaze, her eyes turning suddenly cold.
'I just want to help, Dante. You won't let me in! You never do! I just want to know what's going on!'
'I failed and a child lost his life! That's what happened!' Trish sighed.
'You're not perfect, Dante. You can fail once or twice, you know?' Dante stared at her in disbelief.
'That's the difference between you and me. An innocent little kid lost his life because I failed to save him.'
'So?' Dante couldn't help but stare at her. Trish wondered what she had said that was so wrong. She gasped with shock as she heard Dante's next words.
'I was right about you...you'll never be anything more than a demon. You don't understand anything, do you?' Trish's eyes welled up with tears and she looked away, angry and hurt.
'I don't understand why you get so shaken up about a single person dying, when so many others have died before. Did you fail them too? Those vampires at the guild massacre?'
'They were adults...they'd lived a life.'
'How old was the child?'
'I think about six or so.'
'Where were his parents?'
'They were dead.'
'And what kind of life is that for a kid to lead? It's better this way.' Trish realized as soon as those words left her mouth, that perhaps she had gone too far. Dante stared at her numbly, the words sinking in slowly. He shivered slightly and then looked away from Trish. She sighed softly.
'I'm sorry, Dante...I didn't mean that...I...I just want to help. I don't like seeing you so upset. It's not like you!'
'I don't need any help, I've got my pride,' Dante grumbled to himself.
'That's your problem. You have too much pride. If you'd let someone in once in a while then perhaps you wouldn't feel so bad when something does go wrong.' Dante glared at her, still holding the teddy as though it had suddenly become a part of him. Trish swallowed hard, trying to ignore the insult to her past. However, it just wouldn't leave. Her eyes stung with tears again but she looked away angrily, determined not to cry in front of him.
Dante got up, the bear in his hands still and went to the kitchen. Trish peered in after him and stared in bewilderment as he tried to wash the blood off the toy. Fifteen minutes passed, but Trish couldn't take her eyes away from the sight of Dante scrubbing furiously at the now soaked bear. He suddenly slowed down, and stopped, staring down at the toy in shock, coming to realize what Trish had noticed long before.
The blood had become nothing but an indelible stain. It could not be removed. It was now a part of the bear, a part of its fabric of being. Trish watched Dante's face carefully, and was struck by an unsettling thought. Perhaps the spilt blood had become a part of him also.
She swallowed hard and backed out of the doorway, before Dante noticed her standing there. Dante frowned and then started to scrub at the bear fiercely, as though somehow, he'd be able to get rid of it, knowing as he scrubbed that he would fail, just as he had failed the boy, just as he had failed.
There was a sudden knock on the door, and he gave a sudden start, quickly whirling around to face the door, dreading for a ridiculous moment that it was the dragon. He mentally chided himself as soon as he thought this, and went to open the door. If it was a dragon, it wouldn't have knocked. If it was a demon? Well, it wouldn't have even dared to set foot on his doorstep.
He slowly opened the door and blinked as he saw a violet eyes, blond woman standing there.
'I was told you could help me.'
'Password.'
'There's a dragon about.' Dante froze, feeling his hands turn to ice and his heart stop as he heard her words. 'It's destroying everything.'
'I know...' his voice came out as a whisper, and the girl frowned. This "Dante" that she had heard of did not whisper. He was meant to be bold and brace, not hiding behind a door.
'Can I come in?'
'I cannot help you.'
'Isn't this the kind of stuff you deal with?' Her tone of voice was angered. Dante looked back at her, his eyes blank, as though he were not quite awake.
'I deal with demons.'
'This dragon is a demon! It's terrorizing those of us who know about it!' Dante sighed.
'I can't help you. I can't help anyone. I'm sorry. Goodbye.' The door clicked shut, not the action of an angered man, but the action of someone who had too much weighing on them.
Trish watched the whole episode from the top of the stairs and sighed. What had happened to her Dante? He hadn't ever backed away from a challenge. She sighed and then returned to her room, planning to research. The sooner she found out how they could kill this beast, the better.
