The city here reminded Nero of the small city in Fortuna, except it was a lot grittier with tones of urban decay. It lacked the heart, warmth, and the old-fashioned feel that the city back home—the one with compact, cobble stone streets, old fashion bikes and clean narrow pavements littered with bistros, little cafés and specialty shops—was made of. He couldn't picture himself living here, in such apparent disarray and squalor, but the way his life turned out during the past year, it could have ended a lot worse. He could've been dead and buried somewhere; at least, that was the scenario Dante came up with when he picked up Nero at the airport.

He'd never traveled anywhere outside of the island. The nuns at the convent, though sad to see him go, were also excited for him. Nero didn't see what exactly the big deal was. He always heard horror stories about traveling abroad, all of which were filled with bad airplane food, armrest hogs, and crying babies. It all turned out to be true and because it was Nero, he had the privilege to add more to the shit list of horrors. Customs had been a roaring bitch to deal with. They were shocked and horrified by his baggage, though Nero didn't give a shit how they felt. His weapons were in their cases and posed no real threat to anyone, but that didn't stop them from holding him back for about an hour. And did he forget to mention the long lines and the waiting? There was a line for everything in terms of paperwork and waits so long you might as well as jam your pen in your jugular because the blood shooting out of your neck would make it farther up the line than you ever would.

When he finally landed, and dealt with the incompetency that was customs, the pokes and prods of curious children who wanted to know why he wore a glove on one hand and not the other, and the nosy middle-aged women who wanted to know if he was single because they had a nice daughter his age who wouldn't mind a nice boy like him, Nero was ready to throw in the towel. Dante welcomed him of course, with that cheesy grin of his and the demon hunter was lucky that Nero was too emotionally drained to punch that smile off his face. The man offered to show him some of the sights and Nero told him that he wanted nothing to do with sightseeing. He was jet-lagged, tired, and hungry.

Either Dante didn't seem to hear him or didn't seem to care, because they were off to some bar to meet one of his demon hunter friends.

Nero was not looking forward to the meeting. He didn't want to meet whoever it was and he didn't care. He wasn't there to make friends and he wasn't in the mood for it either. But Dante insisted and the minute they walked into the bar, he could tell he was going to be in for a long boring night.

The place looked archaic, its hardwood floors looked dull from the lack polish and shine. The paint on the wall was chipped here and there and underneath, Nero could see a rich burgundy color that probably would've looked nice if the owner wanted to give the cheap looking place some class. Not that it would help much what with the flickering jukebox and loosely swaying ceiling fans that danced dangerously close to falling.

The middle-aged bartender gave Dante a nod as a welcome. A random regular looked up from his drink and also nodded, before going back to nursing his drink that was more ice than anything else.

They made their way towards the back to the pool tables where one was currently being used by a woman with dark, short hair wearing sunglasses. She lined the billiard balls within the racking template, shifting them around to make nice rows.

"Sorry we're late."

She looked up at the sound of Dante's voice and smirked.

"I'd figure you'd be. I walked in about ten minutes ago."

Nero saw her gaze meet his and it bothered him that he couldn't really read her, not with those damn sunglasses. But the amused smirk she wore when she looked to be examining him was enough to fuel his dislike of her.

"You weren't joking," she said, finally raising her sunglasses into her hair. He noticed her mismatched eyes, along with the light scar across the bridge of her nose. "He really does look like you."

"Fortunately the similarities end there," Nero said, putting his things aside. He didn't think they looked that much alike except for their hair color.

"Let me be the judge of that," she answered. Her tone wasn't flirty or playful like Trish, who always held a double meaning in her tone. But it was condescending enough to imply that he was just a toy she was going to be amused by and he couldn't help but feel mocked.

Dante laughed, clapping his hands at it all. He must've noticed the glare Nero was sending her way because it was heated enough to burn right through her. "Not five minutes and already getting along!"

Nero rolled his eyes, though he noticed he wasn't the only one as the woman did the same. She brought her glasses back down.

"Alright, so let's get acquainted. Kid…I mean Nero," Dante went over to the woman, gripping her by the shoulders and guiding her towards Nero. "…this pretty gal is Lady."

She offered her hand for him to shake and he took it, shaking it slowly as he raised an eyebrow.

"Really, that's your name?" he asked, letting her hand go. The woman or Lady as she wanted to be called went back to where she was standing before, removing the racking template off the table.

"Problem?"

"No, not at all," he said shaking his head. "Sounds like a stripper name," he mumbled under his breath, hoping no one would hear, though by how hard Dante clapped him on his back he figured he wasn't subtle enough.

"Charming," Lady snorted, grabbing a cue stick. Oh so she heard him anyway? Oh well, the truth hurts.

Dante grabbed a cue stick and joined Lady at the table.

"Let's get down to business, shall we?" He watched her take the first hit, the billiard balls scattering around the table.

"Kid, Lady is going to be your teacher so to speak. She's going to help me train you."

Nero's eyes widened slightly. "What?"

The young demon hunter looked at Lady, who didn't seem fazed or even interested to know that she was now involved.

"Don't make me repeat myself kid, I'm not a broken record," Dante said as he leaned down to take his shot.

"You should've told him," Lady said, watching a ball land in a pocket.

"I told him enough to get him here."

"Ridiculous," Nero mumbled as he turned around to get away from them. He had half a mind to just be done with this and leave. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. When Dante said he was going to help him, Nero scoffed and told him that his help wasn't wanted. He was a grown man at twenty-six and didn't need Dante to babysit him out of fear that he was going to go and off himself by jumping off a cliff.

He thought that was enough to send the older demon hunter off, but the man wouldn't let it go and he pushed and probed until Nero eventually threw him toward a courtyard. All that did was prove to Dante that Nero still had some fight left in him and the man came up with the idea of bringing Nero back home with him for some training. Nero thought about it for a bit and decided that he didn't need the help, but proving Dante otherwise and rubbing it in his face would be the only way to get the man to leave him alone. So he came to Devil May Cry to prove that Dante had no business in his life, that Nero was perfectly fine and able to fend for himself.

"You alright there?"

Nero turned around at Dante's voice and didn't bother hiding his annoyance.

"This isn't what you said was going to happen," he hissed.

Dante didn't seem threatened by Nero's discontentment and just shrugged.

"So I got you some extra help. I'm not hearing a thank you."

"I was fine doing this to humor you," Nero said. "I don't want her involved."

Dante stood his cue stick on the floor, his palm laying flat against the tip as he kept it balanced. "Why, because she's human?"

"Because it's none of her business," Nero clarified.

"You don't have to tell her your life story," Dante replied. "Just give her a chance. I know she may not look enthusiastic about this, but she'll eventually warm up. And I can vouch that she knows what she's doing. Shot me in the head when we first met–twice. So she knows how to rumble."

"Yeah? Well her aim's pretty terrible since she missed that mouth of yours."

Dante leaned against one of the pool tables and chuckled. "Lucky for you, she's gotten better, so she'll be able to shoot yours off in no time."

Nero walked over to stand next to Dante. "She can try," he snorted, leaning against the same table.

The older demon hunter smirked and Nero followed his line of vision. Lady was currently bending over, concentrating on making a shot as her chin slightly hovered over the green felt surface. The rest of the bar, including Dante, concentrated on her ass. Nero's gaze outlined the peach shaped bottom and they trailed down her smooth looking thighs to her long boots. When he looked back up she was staring at him and though he couldn't read any anger, her flat expression said everything and he felt a slight heat curl around his ears as he immediately looked elsewhere.

"Just talking business babe," Dante said, winking at her.

"Like hell you just were," Lady replied, going to the other side of the table where no one could ogle her backside.

"She might be a hard-ass," Dante said, turning slightly to him, "But at least she's easy on the eyes."

"She's a looker, but not my type. So you're welcome to it."

Dante pushed himself off the table. "Trust me kid, I've been barking up that tree for years, she ain't interested."

"The woman has self respect? Color me surprised."

Dante laughed.

"There you go!" He clamped a hand on his shoulder. "You're beginning to like her. You'll be calling her big sis in no time!"

With that, Dante made his move to leave and Nero followed behind. What choice did he really have now that he was here? He didn't exactly have the funds to return to Fortuna at the moment, though if he earned them he'd make it out of there like a demon out of hell.

At the table, Lady stood waiting, her hands resting flat against the cue stick's tip.

"Did you guys have fun making out?"

Nero's eyebrow gave an involuntary twitch as he glared at her. But Dante just chuckled at the question, leaning down to take his turn at the pool table.

"Let's hammer out the details," he said, taking his shot. "Shall we?"

Lady gave a casual shrug.

"So, I figure with the way the shop's laid out and how uncomfortable he'll be, the kid is better off staying at your place."

"What?" Not that he wanted to stay at Devil May Cry. The place wasn't really hospitable and he cringed at the thought of sleeping on the couch or the dusty floor where beer bottles roamed like packs of wild animals. But he didn't want to shack up with tomb raider Barbie either.

"Relax, her place's nicer. I'm sure you'll be just fine." Dante looked at Lady, his face serious as he slowly nodded. "Right?"

"He'll be fine," she said, ignoring his stern look. She leaned down and got ready to take her shot. "Just have to make some minor adjustments around the place; he'll live like a king."

Satisfied with her answer, Dante looked at Nero. The previous seriousness his face bore was now gone and back was the usual devil may care demeanor he usually sported.

"Lady's an expert with fire arms and close and long range combat. She'll help you fine tune what you already know. I'll be available as a sparring partner, point out what needs working here and there. And you'll also tag along on jobs, get to know the place, get your face around."

"I don't need pointers or help getting work," Nero reminded him and Dante held a hand up in defense.

"Just trying to help."

"Yeah, well I never asked for it to begin with," he snipped, sounding a littler snider than he meant to.

There was silence as Dante looked away, running a hand through his hair and sighing. Lady didn't seem interested in the conversation as she leaned down and took her turn. It felt like hours to Nero, as the silence stretched and he watch the billiard balls knock into each other and land in different pockets.

Lady sighed, standing up straight. "Fine, I'll say it."

"You aren't doing us any favors, kid. Dante might be sweet on you, but I'm sure as hell not. So you can take your shit and leave for all I care." She laid her cue stick down on the table and pushed her glasses up into her hair.

"But realize that when someone is reaching out to you, taking the time out of their busy lives to give a shit whether or not you're breathing," she said and looked at Dante who wasn't good at confrontation unless it was the sort where he could get his sword involved. "It's because they care about what happens to you, even if you don't."

She walked around the table and stood in front of him, making at point to close the distance between them, making it impossible for him to escape.

"You don't have to take it and no one's holding a gun to your head. You have two choices, either you take your things and go back home or suck it up and deal. Which is it going to be?"

It wasn't as simple as she painted it to be. For one, Nero couldn't just up and leave like he wanted to since he needed money to get back home. Despite the so called help being offered, he wasn't fond of it taking the form of some kind of intervention, complete with a total stranger involved with his business. No, it wasn't simple and somehow, as they stared each other down, she knew this. She also knew he wouldn't do what she told him to do because he didn't want to give her the satisfaction. And even if he did, it'd prove what he constantly denied wasn't true—that he needed help—to be right. He didn't need their help and yet, he couldn't exactly leave without it. It was a catch-22 and he was damned either way.

"Whatever," he mumbled, looking away.

She went back to Dante.

"Do your business already and sell me," he told them.

Lady smirked.

"Is he house-trained?" she asked and the twitch in his eyebrow returned. The woman blew him a kiss and winked.

Dante laughed. "Well, look at that! She's warming up to ya just fine."

Nero gave them the finger.