51. Sport
The twins, it appeared, were destined for fencing. Any other sport Eva managed to make them try sooner or later turned into a duel or a fistfight, in case there was nothing else for them to hit each other with but hands and feet.
Last time she tried horseback riding. She should have known better.
It was their first ever time in the saddle, but it didn't stop them from racing at mad gallop, and that wasn't the worst part. When Dante's horse started to lag behind, he jumped from the saddle and outran it. Vergil, never one to step back from a challenge or play by another's rules, attempted to ride his brother down. Dante dragged him from his horse, though, and a gentleman's ride ended as a scuffle in the dirt.
Now the twins were brandishing tennis rackets as if they were swords.
The "match" was won by Vergil almost strangling Dante with the net.
52. Deep in Thought
Dante was deep in thought, a disassembled firearm in front of him on the desk, and Vergil found no reason to resist this particular, even if absurd temptation. He fetched a small cube of ice from the fridge and, still unnoticed by his twin, dropped it behind the collar of Dante's t-shirt.
- What the hell? - the younger yelped, nearly falling from his chair but catching himself with natural catlike grace. - Vergil?!
- So long a silence doesn't suit you, Dante, - the smug reply was followed by a barely-there smirk.
53. Keeping a Secret
Keeping the twins' powers a secret from the people around them was not that hard. Her boys were smart and dexterous and it all seemed an interesting game to them. Hiding them from the demons was a completely different matter, and Eva could never stop looking over her shoulder. The shadows from Sparda's past were always close. Sometimes she managed to shake them off for a month, sometimes they got so close Vergil and Dante would feel them and grow restless. It was a sign for Eva to grab the boys, pack up and hit the road.
What little free time she had to herself she spent training. With the katana that was one day to be Vergil's, with a gun. She wasn't good with either, but it helped her feel a little calmer.
54. Tower
Climbing up the damned - no kidding - tower a second time during the night was definitely not what Dante had bargained for, so there'd better be a worthy prize on the top. Like the girl. Or, better yet, some magic wand - or club - to beat a little sense into his brother's head. Rebellion didn't seem to do the thing.
55. Waiting
Dante hated waiting. Hated, hated, hated it.
It should have been an easy job, Vergil would've been sneering at him for weeks if he'd offered company on such a case. Kill a reaper, even Lady could do it.
Vergil should have been back four hours ago. OK, three if he decided to have a lunch after work or something.
Dante cursed his own pride and stupid fear of Vergil mocking him, as he paced restlessly around the office trying to ignore the sick feeling in his gut.
In the end he snapped, unable to restrain himself anymore, and started for his weapons.
He should have come along, he would go after him now. And hope he wouldn't be too late.
The door creaked, opening, and Vergil came in. He looked pale and tired and the coat he was wearing was new, not the one he left in.
- Been doing shopping, have you? - Dante hissed, trying and failing to keep immense relief from his voice.
- Yes, - Vergil looked at the gun holster in Dante's hands and smiled slightly and… knowingly. It wasn't unkind, on the contrary, there was a hint of gratitude there. Undeserved gratitude.
56. Danger Ahead
- Danger ahead, - Vergil whispered, alerting the troopers behind him. Someone cursed quietly, someone prayed, someone gripped their rifle tighter.
How he wished it was Dante watching his back. It was like missing an arm, the phantom pain that hurt and nagged and screamed that something was so very wrong. At least he still had hope.
57. Sacrifice
Subconsciously Dante had always expected to end up as a sacrifice to whatever a goal his elder twin deemed worth the price. He'd never thought it would all be vice versa. He wished it were not, wished he had not risen from the rain-washed stones of Temen-ni-gru and lived to make the choice.
58. Kick in the Head
They were sparring - at least that was what they were supposed to be doing. Lady had suggested the idea herself and now she gravely regretted it.
She aimed a kick at Dante's head, he ducked, whistled, enjoying the view of her pants and making sure everyone knew he was, and easily lifted her in the air. Both her hands were caught in his warm and gentle, but inescapable grip.
- Now, Lady, - he breathed huskily into her ear, - let's see… Are you ticklish?
- You… - she hissed venomously, trying to ignore how hot she suddenly felt.
59. No Way Out
Last thing Dante remembered was the giant demon falling at his feet, cleaved almost in two by Rebellion's blade, and a slight prickling sensation between his shoulder-blades. And then darkness.
He woke up in a tiny cell. He couldn't even stand or stretch on the floor to his full height. There were no windows, no doors, no lights. There was no way out. Not even his inhuman vision picked anything in the dark. It was pitch-black. Or had he gone blind?
He felt the walls with his fingers. They were dry and uneven. It seemed more like a void in the rock than a hand-built dungeon.
The feeling of meters and tons of solid stone above and all around overwhelmed him, crushed him down mercilessly. He inhaled and coughed, trying to fight the panic suffocating him. The sound ricocheted off the walls like a dozen bullets, piercing his skin, driving the dread deeper.
60. Rejection
- Hey, Vergil, how about…
- Can't you see I'm busy, Dante? - he never even looked up from the ancient book, much less let him finish. - No, I wouldn't think so. Now be so kind and rid me of your presence.
It wasn't anything unusual or unexpected, but the rejection still hurt Dante. Every damned time. He wondered when he would grow some pride and give up trying.
He left without another word, and Vergil sighed. There was surprisingly little relief in it.
61. Fairy Tale
He was a son of the savior of the world. He could literally ride a rocket. He could have any girl he wanted. He was pretty much immortal, eternally young. It was enough to make anyone's life a fairy tale, wasn't it?
Yet here he was, holding his father's famous sword and feeling all his joy and all his life pour through his fingers like sand.
62. Magic
They fought on a cliff overlooking the sea. The wind rushed them on, clapping its cool damp hands on the twins' bare shoulders.
Vergil's katana spiraled through the air, and Dante smiled. Then laughed. Then cried out and threw his hands up in celebration.
- Wow, - he blurted, breathless, still smiling ear to ear, - it's a kind of magic!
A moment's rage disappeared from Vergil's eyes, replaced by good humor and fondness. It was impossible to see Dante like this and hold a grudge against him. It was impossible not to admire him. And it wasn't like Vergil wasn't going to win next time, anyway.
- What else could it be, you winning? - he mocked, returning the smile.
63. Do Not Disturb
Missions in remote places were cool, Dante had always enjoyed travelling. It didn't matter to him whether they stayed in a rundown motel in some god-forgotten village or, like now, in a five-star palace in Nice.
Whistling, he knocked - hammered, rather - on the door to his brother's room with his foot. His hands were full of wine bottles. It wasn't his fancy, but he knew Vergil liked quality wines, so…
The door opened to reveal a strangely disheveled Vergil. He was shirtless, dressed only in his costume trousers, his pale skin glistening with sweat.
- What? - he started, then saw Dante, rolled his eyes, shoved the "Do not disturb" sign into the younger's face and shut the door.
Before he did so, Dante caught sight of a mane of shiny chestnut-brown hair and an elegant hand holding up a blue silk bedsheet.
64. Multitasking
Eva stirred the slowly boiling onion soup, added salt and pepper to the steak, glanced out of the window to check if the twins were still playing peacefully in the yard or it was time to rescue one of them from the other or something breakable - like a neighbor - from both of them. Everything was surprisingly quiet, so she stirred the soup again and turned another page in her newest book on children's psychology with her free hand.
She was very good at multitasking. She had to be, bringing up two half-devils.
65. Horror
Girls gasped, boys swallowed and tried to look unfazed.
- And then… then Bloody Mary will come out of the mirror and tear out your eyes, - Billy finished in a low voice.
- Sure, if you're as slow as a sleepy snail. Which you are, - snickered Dante. He'd always preferred horror stories over funny ones. They were more fun. - For anyone a tad bit faster it shouldn't be a problem to grab her by the hair and hit her head against a wall. Right, Vergil?
- Indeed. But it would be better to crack the mirror with her head and then use a shard to cut her throat. If you are not only slow, but also stupid enough to start such a ritual weaponless.
The twins clapped hands, looking extremely smug.
66. Traps
Dating girls was full of traps: don't hug too hard, don't let them see you move too fast, don't let them scratch you and watch out for knives and anything that might prick your skin or they'd see it heal. At first it seemed to Dante more trouble than it was worth, but soon he got the trick and then the cool part started.
67. Playing the Melody
- I don't want to play the piano! - Dante said stubbornly. - It's boring and it's for stutters like Vergil. I want to play the guitar!
Eva ruffled his unkempt silky hair and smiled.
- The piano will help you to play your beloved guitar better, darling.
The look on Dante's face changed to one of suspiciousness.
- Really?
- Really, - his mother winked at him.
- Well, if you say so, Mom, - Dante was still full of doubt, but since Mother was sure... - Okay, I'll give it a try!
He never came to regret his decision, for soon he found out that Vergil indeed liked the piano. Often the elder would come quietly to the room and listen, his eyes on his brother, a small smile lighting his face. Whatever melody Dante was playing at once seemed to him the most important thing in the world.
68. Hero
Lady was giving him that look again. The one he hated - no, loathed - the most. The look of pity. She was itching to console him, Dante could see it clear as day. He hated her for that, too. He threw his feet up on the desk and covered his face with a magazine he kept around for this very reason.
Lady huffed in the distance, but took the hint and left.
Dante knew what she would have told him. That he'd made the hard, but right choice. That he'd saved millions of innocent lives. That he was his father's true son and heir and Sparda would've been proud of him. That he was a hero.
Dante choked on his own laugh.
Funny how people would call him hero for the same thing he called himself traitor, and worship him where he would rather they crucified him. No, not them.
69. Annoyance
- Yesterday I saw this shadow creeping down the stairs myself! - the young woman lowered her throaty voice to a whisper. - It was long and thin and ominous. I… I have never been so scared in my entire life! Oh God, you'll help me, won't you?
Dante glanced at his twin. Vergil closed his eyes and opened them very slowly. It was a sign of annoyance, and Dante tensed. When Vergil's annoyance was directed at him, whether it was feigned or genuine, it was fun to deal with. But when it was meant for other people… Well, it could end nasty.
- OK, we'll look around the house, - Dante assured the girl quickly and dragged Vergil with him through the wrought-iron gate. The would-be client didn't look too happy.
70. 67%
- I don't feel like work today, - Dante yawned and stretched on the velvet couch. It still had that specific scent of new furniture. Like everything Vergil bought, it was exquisite and expensive. - Besides, a serial killer is a job for the police, not for us. What's the prize on his head, anyway?
- None, - Vergil replied calmly. - But you'll be interested.
- Why, pray tell?
- In every - every - case there's a witness, but none of them saw his face, only the mask. Sixty-seven percent of the victims are children. He killed them slowly and made a family member watch. Was I wrong?
Dante was already standing. The dark fire in his eyes made him look even more like Vergil's exact reflection.
- No, - he said shortly through gritted teeth.
71. Obsession
Dante was his obsession. Fierce, defiant, unrelenting and breathtakingly sensual, the quintessence of life unmarred by mortality. His, and his alone. Both unbreakable and vulnerable. Perfect.
Vergil stroked his hair, soft, cool, shining like pearls in morning light, traced his jawline. Dante jerked his head away.
- When are you going to get bored of this? - he half-hissed, half-growled, pulling at the bonds tight around his wrists.
He was standing at the center of a small cell, his arms raised above his head and stretched slightly to either side, his ankles shackled as well, the short chain bolted to the floor.
Every muscle taut in hopeless effort, chin held high, blue eyes ablaze, Dante was the picture of power. Contained power. A captured lightning bolt. Vergil smiled, marveling at him openly. The rage in Dante's eyes was nothing if not endearing.
- Of you, dear brother? - Vergil heard himself purr. He laid a hand on Dante's bare, heaving chest. - Never.
He could feel a pulse clear and strong. It was the sweetest ecstasy - to hold his ultimate treasure, his Holy Grail in his hand and know he could easily crush it at any moment he chose. Vergil felt his own slow, calm heartbeat falter and race after Dante's erratic one.
72. Mischief Managed
- Mischief?
- Managed, - Dante ruffled his hair with both hands, loosened his tie and quickly unbuttoned his shirt halfway down.
Vergil nodded, slicked his own hair back and started straightening his uniform.
They didn't really need to swap places on the exams, either could get top grades effortlessly. It was merely for the sake of fun.
73. I Can't
Leave me and go if don't want to be trapped in the Demon World…
Dante tore his eyes away from the abyss and clenched his fist. The slice had already healed itself, but it still hurt.
Leave me and go if don't want to be trapped in the Demon World…
He picked up Force Edge. What the hell was he supposed to do with this lousy sword? Would it fight him, like Vergil did? Would it hate him? Would it be there for him, wherever "there" was? Would it talk to him with that infuriating aplomb? Would it look at him with the fondness of a damned sadist? Would it gut him and twist the blade inside him? Would it smile at him understandingly, confidently? Would it stand by his side and save him? Would it…
Leave me and go if don't want to be trapped in the Demon World…
Dante stood before the portal, Force Edge crisscrossed over Rebellion behind his back. One step left. One step. Vergil took his, now was Dante's turn. One step to a new life, one step to death.
Leave me and go…
- I can't.
He weighed Lady's bazooka in his hand, squinted and threw it down the rabbit hole to the Earth. Or was it up? Whatever. Hopefully it wouldn't kill Lady falling.
The portal shimmered, winked at him like a giant eye and closed.
- Sorry, Vergil, - Dante murmured under his breath looking down from the edge of the waterfall. - I guess I'm going to bother you for a little while longer.
Leave me and go if don't want to be trapped in the Demon World…
Looks like I want to. Why not, in good company.
As he fell, he couldn't help but smile.
74. Are You Challenging Me?
The mountain loomed over them like some ancient giant. The clouds clung to it like shreds of a wet grey cloak.
- First one up is the king of the world!
Vergil raised an eyebrow and tried not to smile.
- Are you challenging me?
Dante grinned right back at him, eager as ever.
- Always!
75. Mirror
Was it some vengeful curse that whenever he looked into a mirror he saw his brother and never himself?
76. Broken Pieces
Vergil looked at his twin and saw a stranger. He took in the features of his face, sharpened by the cruel whetstone of life, his eyes that were more steely grey than blue, his lean figure and deadly graceful movements and knew there was no coming back. The Dante he had known was long since dead, much like his own nineteen-year-old self.
The mosaic had been destroyed beyond repair, broken pieces faded and dented. So many were missing.
His strides long, deliberate and fluent like a cat's, Dante came close and touched his forehead to Vergil's shoulder.
77. Test
- Oh damn… What a beauty! Where did you get it?
- Test it, - Vergil's voice was even, his face impassive, but his eyes were warm and smiling. And that was the best gift possible, the one Dante cherished above anything.
He took the guitar gently, struck a few chords and looked wordlessly up at his twin. He had to thank Vergil, but found himself unable to say anything.
Vergil leant against the pool table, the corners of his lips twitching. And Dante played. For him. And the music washed away the time they'd spent apart, drowned all the wrongs and promised them forever.
78. Drink
She was feasting on him, drinking him, draining him, and all Dante could do was moan pathetically against her hungry unrelenting mouth. Until the devil in him took over and tore her away with such force the succubus - or whatever she was - crumbled down like a doll.
A thought sneaked into his mind unbidden - had it not been for Vergil, the witch would have eaten you up, sugar. Dante made sure to ignore it.
79. Starvation
Dante was almost immune to hunger, but he could imagine it all too well. Starvation, he guessed, must feel just like this phantom pain, the longing, deep, consuming you from the inside, eating away your flesh, weakening your spirit, sucking out marrow from the bones and leaving you a wasted walking dead man.
80. Words
He tried, tried to explain it to Vergil, to tell him what he'd just understood himself, but couldn't find the words. And those he managed to spit out of his constricted throat were clumsy, stilted and alien. They made no sense even to him. No wonder Vergil laughed at his face.
Only later, when all was said and done and lost, did Dante think that maybe he should have asked and listened instead of talking. And if he so needed to say something, maybe he should have said one single word to Vergil. Please.
Please let's close this damned portal and then take whatever you want from me.
Please don't do it.
Please… Don't condemn us both.
81. Pen and Paper
He was here. Vergil could see him rocking in the chair, feet propped on the desk, a careless smile on his face, and cloudless, young sky of spring in his eyes, blue and deep and full of light.
- Hey Vergil, - he said and looked at him with simple joy, sincere and unmasked. He was… happy.
Vergil felt his body move forwards, to him. And opened his eyes.
There was only dust. The seat of the chair was moth-eaten and faded, the desk had not been touched - in months? In years? Vergil did not know. Didn't even know how long it had been since… since…
A few gun shells, a set of keys, a pen, and paper with notes scribbled in the hand he knew and remembered. A photo of their mother. A fingerless glove. Sliced on the palm. All Dante had left of him. All he had left of Dante. The circle was complete. He was reaping what he'd sown and wished he'd never regained himself, wished he'd never lived to mourn Dante's death, to learn just what his life had felt like.
82. Can You Hear Me?
Darkness. Breathing, shallow and hoarse. Numbness.
He did not feel his body, not even the manacles that kept him standing. He was past pain, past agony, resistance and pride. It did not matter, nothing did anymore. Only… him.
He let his head loll, sliding back into the black delirium. It was his sanctuary, his grace. In dreams, he sometimes came.
A whisper fell from his lips as quiet as a dead leaf falling from a branch.
- Can you hear me? Dante…
And somewhere in the safety of the human world his twin woke up shaking, haunted, shrouded by dread, sorrow and guilt from anything but the faint, faint call.
83. Heal
Decades apart did nothing to heal them from the morbid longing for each other, yet just laying eyes on one another was enough to bring them both back to life.
84. Out Cold
Vergil was out cold, lying on the very edge of the chasm. Dante gave his brother a long appraising look and jumped across to sit beside him.
They had plenty of time, Lady wouldn't get too far on that injured leg of hers. Dante was actually surprised she could walk at all.
He hummed a deliberately careless melody, meddled with the golden ribbon on Yamato's scabbard.
The time was ripe for them to have words finally. Of course, Vergil might prefer to let their swords do the talking again, which was exactly why Dante made sure to keep the katana well out of his reach. At his throat if need be.
85. Spiral
It took them higher and higher, the spiral born of their love and their hate and their primal, unconditional need of each other. Humiliation of defeat followed by rapture of victory, on and on from joy to rage and back. They'd thought it'd never end.
86. Seeing Red
The gunshot rang through the alley, echoed by a harsh cry, and Dante felt his blood run cold. He ran as fast as he could, quick and quiet like a thought. Still too slow.
- It's time to bring you down to earth, freak, - a man drawled. He was short and lean, with slick blond hair, in looks and manners resembling a ferret. - Face first in the dirt.
The man had a revolver in his right hand. Before him, kneeling, pinned down by two bulky adults, his face contorted with anger and pain, stood Vergil. About him a pool of red glistened in the dim light of a street lamp three blocks away. It was all Dante could see. The red of his twin's blood.
Next thing he knew he was standing between Vergil and the man with the gun. He'd never mastered teleportation before, but it didn't seem to matter. Then the man was lying on the ground and screaming. His arm was twisted savagely, the elbow ripped out of the socket. Dante turned, still seeing red, nothing but it, to Vergil and the two dead men, who'd dared…
He was fourteen, and barely reached up to their shoulders. The only weapon he had was a pocket knife. It made no difference.
He vaulted over Vergil and buried his knife in the throat of the man to his right. Before the corpse collapsed on the ground, Dante pushed off it and smashed his foot into the last one's face. His nose made a crunching sound as it was driven deep into his brain. Dante landed and gripped Vergil by the shoulders so tightly the elder winced. He was already standing, albeit a little awkwardly.
- What have they done to you? - Dante's voice was a low shaky growl that sounded scary even to himself. Through the red haze he could see Vergil's face. It was beautiful, so beautiful, shimmers of the distant light a halo in Vergil's silvery hair.
- It's just a bullet, Dante, - Vergil said, dismissively. He didn't take kindly to needing help, to being rescued by the younger. Still, the corners of his lips hid an approving smile, and the crimson fog clouding Dante's eyes finally dissipated. - It got me in the knee. I'll be fine in a minute. Take your knife and let's get out of here.
87. Food
They sat on the steps leading down to the river, two homeless orphans in the great city. Nothing out of ordinary. It felt like they were sitting in the river, though, so heavy was the rain. Yet it did little to mask the delicious smell of freshly baked bread coming at them from the street.
- I don't remember ever being so hungry, - Dante mused half to himself, half to his twin.
- We don't need food like humans do.
Vergil was usually good at feigning confidence, but this time all the effect was ruined by his rumbling stomach.
They both thought of Eva and how they used to wolf down her cooking and praise it, because it was always so tasty, and she was there, and everything was well, and, and…
Dante stood up abruptly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his school trousers, which once were crispy clean and now ragged and wet and dirty.
- I'll go take a walk.
Vergil acknowledged him with a nod and went back to watching the surface of the river ripple in the rain.
When Dante came back he was carrying an untouched loaf of bread, holding it gingerly to his chest to protect it from the downpour. He flopped down next to Vergil, broke the loaf in two halves and offered one to the elder.
Vergil's eyes narrowed.
- You weren't begging, were you?
- No! I just came into the shop, you know, to have a look around. And I was already leaving when the guy at the counter gave it to me! I said no, thanks - but he wouldn't listen… - Dante smiled sheepishly. - Hey, eat it, it's good, can tell by the smell.
Vergil sighed, looking almost angry, and reached inside his jacket to produce a considerable piece of hard cheese and a few cucumbers.
- Here.
- I take it you weren't begging either? - Dante snickered, amused.
- Of course not.
- Thieving, then?
- I would have taken it by force, if I had to. So it doesn't count as stealing.
Dante chuckled again.
- Whatever. Let's just eat already.
88. Pain
The pain was like a dark crimson flower that blossomed over his stomach, its petals dripping blood, each one alive with agony. It was so intense, so novel, a gateway to hell within himself.
Don't cry out, don't scream, don't let him see how much it hurts… It seemed like all Dante could do. Somehow he managed to lift his chin and look Vergil in the eye.
There are no tears, see. It doesn't hurt, that you're killing me. It doesn't!
Vergil was saying something - oh, now he talked, when Dante was powerless to argue with words or swords - but it was all wasted anyway, because neither could Dante hear him. Vergil seemed to notice. He twisted the blade, pushing it deeper, and Dante did cry out then. He was sinking into the pain, losing his grip on reality, defeated at his show of defiance. He barely had the strength to breath, eyes downcast, his brother's hand on the hilt of the katana swimming in and out of focus. It shamed Dante, burned him - to bow before his victor, even unwillingly. Vergil forced him up by the shoulder.
- …let alone yourself!
What?..
Yamato was ripped out of him, and the red petals flew everywhere - no, damn, it was just his blood - and his amulet was torn away, silver chain breaking.
No, how dare you, she gave it to me, it's a gift from her, it's not for you to take!
A bite of pain, almost unfelt. A reprimand. The loser has no say.
He crushed down, stiff and frozen, and the hard wet stone floor knocked out what little consciousness remained him.
89. Through the Fire
- Your brother will never find you! - wailed the demon. - You will rot here, and he will turn back or perish in the flames of Hell!
Vergil looked up. His face was gaunt and ghastly, but he was smiling.
- If walk through the fire he must, he will.
90. Triangle
Vergil peered over Dante's shoulder at his part of the seal they'd spent the morning working on.
- This triangle is off. It should be pointing north-north-west, and you have it north-west.
- What? No, it's… - Dante squinted at it, then groaned. - Daaaamn! It means we're going to have to re-do all this sector again, and over there too…
He lowered his head onto the desk and heaved a long loud sigh.
- Why didn't you kill me back then, Vergil?
The elder arched an eyebrow and smiled:
- I didn't want to.
91. Drowning
He felt like he was drowning in this crowded, anxious, meaningless world. So alien, always stared at, so foreign and homeless, so tired of pretending he belonged here, the joy of living turning into an act. Until the dusty emptiness was cut clean apart, and there stood his brother, his twin, eyes gleaming sharply like the stars, the katana sheathed at his side, a knowing, self-conscious, inviting smirk playing on his lips. So perfect.
Looking at Vergil Dante felt perfect too. Complete.
92. All That I Have
- Vergil… - Lady hesitated a moment and touched his shoulder ever so lightly. - You should let him go. He… he wouldn't want you to suffer so.
Vergil didn't flinch away, didn't lash out at her. He never acknowledged her words at all, still looking at the bright neon letters.
He couldn't live here, it would be unbearable, but often he came, cleaned up the dust, and took care of the weapons, and sat alone on the couch as if waiting for Dante to come home.
He gave the sign one last lingering look, closed his eyes and smiled, his hand curled over the amulet on his chest. Lady had never thought Vergil her friend, but it broke her heart, the way he smiled.
- The memory is all that I have, - he said and turned to leave.
93. Give Up
Vergil touched Yamato's tip to his throat.
- Give up, Dante.
A cat playing with a mouse, content and amused.
Dante drew a ragged breath, licked the blood off his lips and pushed himself up from the ground, snarling. Standing was hard, raising Rebellion was harder.
- When hell freezes over, - he spat back, panting.
Vergil twirled the katana in his hand.
- How sweet of you, little brother, to prolong my pleasure. What would Mother say though, when I drag your bleeding broken form home?
- Like you care.
- I do, but your defiance, Dante, is too much of a temptation. I shall enjoy - ah - tempering it.
94. Last Hope
Hiding the twins was Eva's last hope - that maybe the demons came for her and did not know about Sparda's children. She had overestimated the power orders had over her boys. Vergil and Dante stood shoulder to shoulder between her and Hell's assassins, and pride mingled with anguish in Eva's heart.
95. Advertisement
Dante folded the newspaper away - no mysterious killings or disappearances today - and joined Vergil by the bookshelf.
- Do you think we should think up some sort of advertisement?
His brother looked at him sideways.
- We are advertisement enough.
Dante laughed.
- For the business, I mean.
- So do I. Few demons can resist the appeal to bring our heads to Mundus in hopes of a reward unsurpassed.
- Let them try! - the younger hissed indignantly.
- Now you see my point.
96. In the Storm
The road ahead seemed lost in the storm, and for all his adventurous attitude Dante was glad they'd taken the car. Riding a motorbike in this weather would've been a little too much.
He snuggled at the backseat, tapping his foot and humming mindlessly to the sound of the rain drumming on the roof.
Vergil glanced at the rearview mirror.
- Dante.
- Yeah?
- Feet off the ceiling.
- It's the only way I can stretch!
- Now, or I'll drag you out, tie your hands to that thing you so conveniently had fixed to the trunk, and have you running after the car.
- I can run as fast, - Dante mused thoughtfully. - Faster even.
- I know you can. The question is whether you want to.
97. Safety First
- Good morning, Lady!
- Dante? Do you know what hour this is? - Lady yawned and rubbed her eyes.
- Huh? No, sorry, don't have my watch on me now.
The naughty smile on his face woke Lady right up.
- It's six in the morning! - she almost yelled. - Couldn't you let me sleep in peace today at least?
- What, and miss the chance to see you in pyjamas? Come on, you don't want to shoot me here, you'd alert the neighbors. Happy birthday, Lady!
Dante pushed two large black bags into her hands.
- What's this?
- A complete set of S.W.A.T. uniform, XXS size, so I hope it fits well. Boots, combat trousers with enough pockets for all your ammunition, a Kevlar vest, some other stuff.
- Oh. Um. Thanks. But you know I prefer my own fighting clothes? They are much less cumbersome.
- Don't give me that crap, Lady. Safety first. You're more than strong enough to wear this and stay mobile.
- Never seen you wearing anything like this.
He gave her an exasperated look.
- I'd like to wake you up on your next birthday too, OK?
98. Puzzle
Strange, how being identical twins they were so different, and being polar opposites they still fitted each other like puzzle pieces. Though it hurt like hell when the process of fitting included getting impaled on the other's blade.
99. Solitude
The clouds flowed in front of the twins like a great white river. Dante passed Vergil the vacuum flask with hot chocolate Eva had given them and stroked the moss crawling all over the stone. It was strangely dry to the touch while it looked so richly green it seemed covered in dew.
- Vergil?
His brother glanced at him lazily over the flask.
- Is there anything you're afraid of? Like, really afraid?
- No, - by the sound of it and the look on Vergil's face Dante might have been asking whether he'd slept with a teddy bear.
- Nothing at all?
- Fear is a weakness, Dante. Why would I harbor one if it's in my power not to?
Dante sighed.
- Figures.
- What is it you fear then, little brother?
- Don't call me that! Younger by five minutes doesn't count!
- You wish, - Vergil smirked and tousled his twin's hair patronizingly, Dante nudged him on the ribs. And for once Vergil chose not to fight on, inclining his head instead to look at Dante with something not unlike concern. - You didn't answer, though. What are you afraid of?
Dante plucked some moss, played with it, then threw it away and hugged his knees.
- Solitude, - he mumbled at last.
- Now that's foolishness, - Vergil decreed.
Dante looked at him, blue eyes wide open, serious and sad. Almost despairing.
- Why? - he asked with a shadow of a smile.
- Because I'm here.
100. Relaxation
Dante lay on the bed too exhausted and drained even to sleep.
- I'll kill you, - he muttered to the ceiling. To turn his head would be way too much effort.
- Tell me, Dante, why I don't believe you.
Vergil's voice held a note of light amusement. He sat on the edge of the bed, peeling an apple.
- Because I'm too tired now?
- No, because you enjoyed the whole thing. Didn't you, Dante?
Dante huffed and closed his eyes. Relaxation was a bliss, and he wasn't going to ruin it for the sake of an argument right now.
When he had first "introduced" Vergil to Nevan, he had never expected what it meant for himself. Until Vergil decided to give the she-devil a present and it just so happened that it wasn't roses or jewelry but Dante in handcuffs of demonic steel.