It's been three months since Angel and Dante lived together. Angel is a fast-learning child and she adapts to things quickly and they've been great together even though she's been getting more and more mischievous and active despite of her muteness, but it's difficult with the devil hunter. Even though everyone had agreed to help him, they have other things to do. Trish, Lady and Morrison have their own jobs, and Patty have school. So most of it had to be done by himself.

His day started as early as four in the morning, where he was awakened by a very annoying alarm sound from his Sony Ericsson – which was set up by Trish and he was threatened that they will kill him if he dares to change it. He then lazily kicked his blanket off the bed and forced himself to get up, took off his phone charger from the electric socket and turned off the annoying alarm sound. Trish knew him very well – once he was awaken by something annoying, it's hard for him to go to sleep again. So he went out of his room and walked to the bathroom next door between his room and Angel's bedroom, still in his sleeping attire – a grey trainer pants and nothing else. Yawning and scratching his head, he turned on the tap, washed his face, brushed his teeth and used the toilet. After he flushed the toilet and pulled his pants up, he grabbed the laundry basket that he put between the sink and the toilet bowl, and grabbed all the dirty laundries inside – Angel's pink underwear with a small white ribbon on the middle top of it, his black shirt, a small black t-shirt with block letters in white that reads "DADDY'S #1 PRINCESS", his red leather overcoat, a large pair of boxers, a pair of black leather pants, Angel's white hoodie with skulls pattern all over, and a pair of short white pants. His hand are full of dirty clothes and he wanted to kick the door so badly, but remembering that Angel is asleep at the room next to the bathroom, he pushed the door handle down gently with one of his foot and pushed through the door with his body, and walked backwards to close the bathroom door again. He then walked down the stairs and managed not to drop a single piece of clothing, and made his way to the washing room at the back – only to find some clothes piling up at the laundry basket next to the washing machine. Oh, how he hoped that those were clean clothes that he had washed yesterday, but those were not. They were piles of dirty clothes that were abandoned since three days ago, and he knew that the girls will kill him if they found out that he's been piling up dirty laundries again for more than two days. He was busy taking jobs the whole week – even the ones without password, because Angel is so far the most expensive little chick that he had spent on even though she's only four. Sometimes he wondered when she turned into a teenager and he knew very well that teenagers cost a hell lot of money – and a hell lot of patience.

Sighing, he opened the washing machine lid and dumped all the clothes in – remembering to separate them by color first of course (he had to dump away his favorite white t-shirt and Angel's pink tank top a week ago because he ignored Patty's advice to separate them and the colors got mixed) and after that he added detergent and closed the lid, turned on the washing machine and grabbed a new issue of Playboy magazine from his desk that he just bought yesterday from the convenient store on the way home after work. He sat on top of the cupboard where he stored various tools, detergents and other cleaning materials, waiting for the washing machine to finish doing its washing job while reading the magazine and hummed to the tune of Eyeshine's Sunday Flower until he heard a weird chugging voice from the washing machine. He set his magazine down and approached the washing machine, making sure that he didn't misheard the washing machine making weird sounds – and yes, he didn't misheard anything at all. When he looked through the round window of the washing machine, he saw that the spinning motion of the machine went slower and slower while still making weird chugging sounds. He grunted and kicked the washing machine hard and it spun faster again. He snickered, but the victory smile on his face soon disappeared when he heard a buzzing sound and the machine completely stopped. He kicked it again a few times, but it won't budge. Instead, black smokes came out from behind the machine.

"SHIT!" He hit the machine with his hand and sighed. He turned his head to the wooden floor while still holding the washing machine lid, thinking of what he should do. If the ladies or Morrison came and saw that he had been piling up dirty laundries again, they'll kill him with their lectures of course. He sighed again, grabbed a big blue bucket from the edge of the washing room and pushed it to the washing machine, opened the lid, dug into the washing machine and dumped the wet and soapy clothes to the bucket, and dragged it to another edge of the room where he got a stool, water tap, a washing board and several more buckets. After that, he dragged another bucket with clothes that he haven't put into the washing machine next to the bucket he dragged before, filled an empty bucket with water, reached out for the box of detergent and poured some into the bucket he's currently filled in. He then stood up, walked towards the cupboard and grabbed a scrubber and returned back to the unfinished laundry. He grabbed a random piece of clothing from the bucket that was filled with clothes that are already soaked wet from the washing machine – which turned out to be his black shirt – and sat on the stool. He turned off the water tap, and started scrubbing the clothes manually on the washing board.

It didn't take him more than five minutes to make his eyes started to turn red and water flow down his cheeks and nose, not to mention that he also kept sneezing. If someone saw him in the state he is right now he or she might think that he's crying, but Dante isn't – his eyes turned red and water like tears because of the soap bubbles. His eyes were always sensitive to detergent and bubbles, that's why he hated washing clothes. He was grateful that he found a working washing machine in the dumpster nearby a month ago, but now he knows why the previous owner dumped the machine away – it's old and busted and he knew that it's way too broken to be fixed again. He make a reminder for himself that the first thing he will do when he sees Lady the next time he'll see her is to request for money to buy a new washing machine. The washing chore had never been this difficult – his eyes are very itchy and wet, and he can only scrub it with an edge of his wet hand which started to get wet and slippery because he keep rubbing off his teary eyes with it.

Dang, this isn't devil may cry anymore. This is devil WILL cry. I can't stand doing this every day! Crap, Lady better make a visit soon so I can say goodbye to scrubbing clothes! Dante thought. After he rinsed the last shirt on the bucket and scrunch it to make the water pour down, he put it on one of the buckets filled with soaked clothes and pulled them to the backyard door, kicked it open, grabbed a box of cheap plastic clothes peg from the cupboard and stuffed the contain in his pocket, put the box back to the cupboard and dragged the buckets out to the backyard. The sun wasn't up yet – since it's probably only 5 AM in the morning. The cold morning wind is blowing hard and Dante kept sneezing. He wished that he brought a hoodie or any kind of warm jacket to wear, but he's too lazy to grab one of them in his room and he decided to make this clothes hanging business quick. He started to grab clothes from the bucket one by one, spread them wide a few times to make the remaining water go away, and pin them on the clothes hanger with the clothes peg. He flinched every time the cold water dripping from the wet clothes touches his bare chest, not to mention that he's extremely sleepy and wished he could go back under the covers for a few hours before Angel woke up around 8 or 9 AM and he had to cook breakfast for two. He lost count on how many times he had yawned this morning and his whole body aches. Even though the cool wind had soothed the itchy pain on his eyes, it doesn't make his sleepiness gone. He had a rough mission last night, and he wished he could have a long rest.

As he grabbed one of his white boxers with heart pattern to hang it to dry, he yawned again and the boxers slipped from his hands. He was about to pick it up when suddenly a strong wind blows and his boxers were flipped away by the wind.

"Oh shit… WAAAAAAAAIT!" he yelped. He quickly dashed to grab it back, but the wind blow it away over his backyard fence. He jumped over the fence, still chasing his boxers, passed a few neighbor backyards and knocked down god-how-many flowerpots. The wind finally stopped, and the boxers landed on top of one of a neighbor's bush. He sighed in relief and was about to pick it up when suddenly he heard a familiar growl. He turned his head to the side, and found a ferocious adult poodle growling at him.

"Oh fuck… I. Frickin'. Hate. Poodles"

The poodle growled at him and barked loudly, and Dante flinched. He whimpered, and took a few steps backward while pulling his boxers from the top of the bush, and when the poodle ran forward towards him, he quickly pulled his boxers and dashed to the side. The poodle was continuously barking really loud and it's getting more and more ferocious, gnarling and showing its teeth that seem scarier than demons' fangs. Panicking, he climbed over the flowerpot rack and jumped over the fence, landing directly on the street. He sure heard terracotta pots shattering on the ground and he was sure with all the racket he created, the particular neighbor who owned the crazy poodle would be awake and surely will go out to his or her backyard soon. He was about to escape as quickly as possible when the poodle jumped over the fence and started to chase him.

"!"

He shrieked and ran like crazy. He didn't care whether he'll wake up the whole neighborhood and they all see him screaming like a girl and being chased by a poodle – he hates poodles and he had to get away from this crazy poodle that chase him only because he wanted to get his pair of boxers. He ran like no tomorrow until he saw a glance of his home, and was about to get into the building when he suddenly tripped over on the asphalt ground. When he was about to get up, the poodle was too close to get away and approached him with incredible speed and its mouth open, ready to bite him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU CRAZY WHITE FLUFFY BITCH!"

He kicked the poodle hard and the dog flew across the street a couple of meters away. He can hear from the distance the whimper of the poodle, and Dante quickly stood up and ran towards the entrance door of Devil May Cry. But the door was locked, so he ran to the backyard fence and jumped back into his own backyard. He then walked a few steps forward towards the clothesline and dropped himself on the ground, panting and exhausted, cold sweat dripping all over his body. He rolled and lay on his back, laying on the grass and watched the morning sun. Spreading his hands and legs as far as possible, he realized that all this time he was holding his heart pattern boxers that lead him to the morning chaos. He spread them out with both of his hands only to see a big hole on the boxers. Now that he saw it, he recalled hearing a sound of fabric torn when he pulled the boxers from the bush and ran away from that crazy poodle. He groaned and dropped himself on the ground again, then rolled up and continued hanging his laundry. He decided to hang the boxers too and promised himself to somehow patch up that hole even though he knew that he have zero talents for sewing.

"Nasty little fluffy bitch poodle" he muttered.

After he finally finished hanging all his clothes, he dragged himself back inside, closed the backyard door with a loud bang and dropped himself on the couch. He closed his eyes and thanked god for the comfort that he can finally enjoy… Until fifteen minutes later.