Work Text:
“What is it, then?”
“He’s your father!”
***
Nero felt very, very frustrated. He didn't know how to share about it without sounding like a pervert or a psychopath.He also lives in a wholy dysfunctional family , like- a campy uncle who spends all his life passionately loving those round yeasted and baked flatbreads called pizzas, a missing mother ( he doesn't even know if she exists or not?), and...and a “his royal highness” with a full-time cringy face. No one to share his feelings...NO ONE TO SHARE HIS FEELINGS, oh Dear Mother,oh God,oh Sparda!
Oh lord, Nero loves.
Nero loves someone he mustn’t have.
Nero sadly thought of Kyrie.
Yeah..., she's such a nice and gentle person, she'd be happy to listen to his thoughts, but it's because Kyrie is the nicest person in the world to Nero, so he mustn’t tell her about them. There's no way he'd put his precious relationship with her at risk over a goddamn little secret. It’s ridiculous. Nero coundn’t calm his mind. If he had to judge himself, he would also think that he is a disgusting person… He wants love, he desperatedly longs for its taste, especially the kind of love in which his feeling is requited. But hell no,no, oh heaven…He must hide it all.
The last water drop makes the whole cup overflows(*), Nero knows that, and he's terribly afraid... He's terribly afraid that one day he can't take it anymore, he just can't stand the pain anymore, and everything falls apart, this perfect reality will fall down – all because of him.
It was so damn confused!
Nero lowered his head for a moment, resting his forehead on his hands, eyes on his thighs. Frustration and weariness spread through him, gradually making him panic. His chest tightened, wanting to sob out all the sad words. His head ached, dizzy from the growing choking of his heart. His eyes feel hot. Oh. Looks like his eyes are stinking. Oh. Looks like his eyes get wet. Nero quietly sobbed and laughed to himself, he raised his hand to wipe the little teardrop from the corner of his eye, scolding himself for behaving like a three-year-old child... It would surely be, if three-year-old children known love…
He struggled on Dante's sofa for a while to reassure himself, and as a result, after the exertion just now, he fell asleep. Well, maybe it's just like what the internet says, like after crying, the brain loses a lot of oxygen, so people fall asleep easily, and there are also tons of other explanations.
The surrounding went dark. Nero secretly resented. Dante's office must have been cut off again. He can’t even get it. Why the heck does it feel like they are stuck in poverty at this point? Nero sat up,but he couldn't raise his head. It didn’t seem like his neck got hurt or anything. He just doesn't understand why his eyes are fixed on a small area around his feet. The space was dark, but the circle around Nero's feet was eerily bright as if someone shined a flashlight on it. It was illogical, but now he dreamily ignored the detail. His mind went blank, unable to think clearly. Nero's body did not act on its own. It goes around and around in the infinite dark abyss, not knowing where it is headed, and for what purpose.
Confusing at its finest. Is Morpheus trying to guide him down a dead end or something?
"Nero"
Nero heard the call. A call from the depths of the soul. A call from the distant sea. Where? From where? And, who called my name?
"Nero"
Who called my name?
That voice was so familiar. Nero was bewildered, he tried to listen since his eyes were now useless. There are footsteps. Suddenly he smelled a not-so-solf fragrance. It’s the cold of Mint, warmed up by Cedarwood scent, and the smell of Amber - all of which remind Nero of a stoic Oriental soul who is always searching for truth in life.
Vergil. Vergil’s scent.
"What's the matter?"
Vergil asked. His voice was so gentle. If it weren't for not being able to move, Nero would have quickly raised his head and punched the man a few times to check if he was the real one. But his body was motionless, and he couldn't speak either.
"Can't sleep?"
"..."
"Let me take you back to your room."
"..."
"Nero?"
Nero suddenly felt that Vergil was too close. This time, his body was released for some reason, as he raised his face, meeting Vergil's eyes. They were close enough to feel each other's breath. Nero looked closely at Vergil's face, he was both frightened and longing for this odd moment. Vergil's expression changed, as if he had just discovered something. And...
Alas. It was just a dream.
Sunlight streamed through the window, shining in straight lines on the floor, reaching even to Nero's place. Under the sunlight, there were sparkling dust particles in the air that were as shiny as pure gold. The sun made Nero dreamily wake up. He fell asleep on the chair so now his body got a bit sore. But that’s okay. Nero stood up and twisted for a moment then walked around the office. Woah, looks like he was the first to get up. The whole office was cold, the twins’ rooms was still closed. A sudden feeling of emptiness and panic returned and swirled in Nero's mind, as if he had returned to those previous lonely and pitiful days. Oh jeez, he suddenly discovered that the person who cut off his arm was his father, and suddenly got a family , then his uncle and father jumped into Hell without a word, leaving him only a cold and lifeless office.
"Aight, better hurry up to kick demon ass!"
…
The wound on his body is quite terrible. Nero grimaced, he adjusted to a more comfortable position on the sofa, so that the wound on his body was not touched too much lest it burst and bleed profusely. Last night's dream recalled him of such nonsense, which resulted in the worst thing: he lost his concentration in the middle of a battle and having a large patch of skin ripped off by a devil. That shit was madly painful... Injuries and illnesses make people weak, and those who are used to suffering can’t completely avoid agony in their life. Even if Nero was made of iron, he still felt a little sorry for himself now. Um, his body does feel a bit hurt. If only someone was with him right now, that would be great. They could gossip about numerous things while time passed which helped distracting Nero from the pain...He kinda longs for someone to comfort and pat him like a baby...Oh, perhaps listening to someone’s reading?
When it comes to books... Nero thinks of Vergil,ah,and the dream. His voice is really nice. It’s neither too deep nor too high. His voice sounds very clear and warm. What if Vergil read him a book...?
…
Nero fell asleep on the sofa again. And he dreamed again,too.
He saw the man again. He saw the place again.
The frozen peak of Qliphoth. The wind rose, making Nero's hair flutter. That one looks pretty chill, but to be honest, his skin feel like it's been cut by thousand knives. And it’s harder to breathe here because Qliphoth’s top is quite far from the ground. Dante was lying flat in a corner like that time because Nero used the claws on his wings to knock the shit out of him. And there in front of Nero, that man was standing.
…His hair is silver, like Nero. Oddly enough, it made Nero – it made a man who had felt lost in his entirel life felt like a leaf which fell back to its roots. Like a tired boat finding out the way back to its old river wharf. Like a bird returning to its nest. The first time he met that man again after learning that he was his father, Nero was not only confused, but also secretly felt heart-warming. Nero has family. He's not a filthy bastard, he has a father, he shares his blood connection with someone. Bloodline is surely a strange thing. It somehow brought tears to the eyes of a strong and resilient Nero who at one point wept at the thought of the man who gave birth to him.
…Such sharp eyes, as if they have seen all the pain in the world. The eyes are the soul’s window. People's eyes can't hide anything from others, especially from a very attentive Nero. Oh, Nero doesn't know. He wondered what had happened in this man's life so that now in his eyes there was no “arrogance of such smug man" - as Dante often says - or the mushy and weak emotions, but only the ashes remain of a soul that used to ache. Thinking of this, Nero's chest tightens.
He must have had a rough childhood. Losing his parents. Wandering all alone. Not knowing how to survive. Struggling. Fully immersed in pain and hatred. He is very good with swords and creates even more moves than he and Dante,oh, and doesn't even use guns because he considers them "toys of the weak and the cowards". Nero wondered how he learnt to use the sword in those tormenting years? Was he self-taught? It must be... In this world, there is no such fairy godfathers who show up to teach someone to use a sword like in fairytales. He imagined himself the image of a small boy trying to swing his sword by his shaking body, his innocent face filled with resentment:the resentment against life, against heaven and against himself for not being strong enough... His hands look gorgeous – They definitely are. The hands of a person who promised to spend his life staying beside the sword must have many calluses... Nero suddenly felt sorry, he even felt unexplainably regretful for no reason. That person's hands deserve the best cherishment, not heavy works; they should be the hands for holding books and swinging pen, for the one making friends with the sweet beauties of life.
...Alright. Nero does behaves like a psycho-manipulated madman. It's so obvious...it's so obvious that the man suddenly appeared in his life, ripped off his arm, killed so many innocent people, was about to invade the world and wipe out all humanity as well as his own humanity... Nero found his way of thinking a little ridiculous. But what can be blamed is not his fault. So he silently blamed the Sparda blood flowing in him.
That’s it, Nero’s heart aches for that man.
Nero LOVE him.
Ooh- this is nothing weird. Children love their parents,there is nothing to argue.
Oi but it’s truly suffering that Nero doesn't love him with that kind of love. Nero loves him, because the hidden wave in his heart starts emerging(*),in another word:the lightning of love strucks him (*),in another another word: Cupid’s arrow pierces his heart… (Yeah why when it comes to the feeling of falling in love, people describe it in the scariest ways possible?)
In general, someone naturally plucked the strings in Nero's heart (*),that one person ... Well, why was him his father? Yeah, his father ,just not that type of father but...like…like…uh… Nero means, that man has been absent for most part of his life, so, fuck father-son bonding stuffs. To him, they met as two strangers. Whether Nero has Daddy Issues or not, he simply doesn’t give a shit.
Nero lost focus so he was knocked down by Vergil. Yamato sent a sharp ray of light straight through his chest, making Nero loses his breath for an instant. His chest ached, his lungs and throat burned. Under the authority of the Dark Slayer, Nero's body trembled like a fallen leaf in late autumn. He opened his mouth with difficulty to get some oxygen around, hoping he wouldn't just die here because god damn it is really hurt to get stabbed through by Yamato tho-
Nero was hundred percent sure he was crazy. In the middle of that fight atop Qliphoth, he was also stabbed by Vergil, but he could take it all, and even pulled out the sword then stabbed it straight back into his opponent's chest, but now he got no shit. That fight was a thing of the past, the twins had finished their mission in Hell and started a family life with Nero in Dante's office long ago. Dante still goes around the city kicking demons’ asses to pay for his living expenses, buy his pizzas and pay taxes. Nero joins his hands too so he can also pay taxes, and Vergil- Vergil is still Vergil... (Nero doubts that the man really has no intention of paying taxes.)
"You can still lose focus after your gut got gouged out?"
Vergil's face showed obvious interest. He didn't know what tenderness was when he pulled Yamato out and Nero fell on his back, his blood spilling onto the ground creating a slimy red puddle. Damn it. Nero was at a loss for words. His chest hurt terribly.Oh that’s a bit strange. Usually he would recover quickly and then stand up, ready to fight again, but this time it was different. Nero’s body felt colder as it gradually grown numbness. Suddenly he felt the freezing when it hit, oh my god, it was way too fucking cold it felt like he was really going to kick the bucket. Life flashed through his eyes like a hurried butterfly.
Oh man. He suddenly felt like becoming a mortal,all weak, and fragile, and easily dying, and probably going to die from blood loss, and...
Nero shivered. He's going to die... to die...die...
"D-dad."
He tried his best to utter a word. Normally Nero would call Vergil with weird names like "old man", "mister father" or something, but in his current state it was already a miracle that he could make out a sound.
"You can't heal? Oi? Are you that weak?"
Vergil frowned. He sheathed Yamato, then slowly approached Nero to examine him. The man looks wary as heck of being deceived by his opponent. Top notch trust issues. Nero sadly reminds himself to forgive Vergil's instinctive behavior, although it is true that he craves being hugged and comforted by him... You know, the feeling of being hugged then pampered by the person you like is terribly satisfying.
"D...dad."
Nero held his breath, then tried to say a few more words.
"You look like you're going to die, ...stop forcing yourself to speak."
Determining that Nero was about to "die" this time, Vergil was struggling to find some ways to help with his injuries. He swore to his heart, he would have kicked Dante a few more times if that guy was the one rolling on the floor right now, but Nero was different. Nero...is his son.
"Dad.I love you."
Suddenly Nero's words went so smoothly they scares him. Is it terminal lucidity? Ey that sounds scary as heck? Wah no, he doesn't want to die yet.
Vergil went dumbfounded. But he soon returned to his normal calm state.
"What was that? Practising your last father-and-son bonding thingy before going to sell salt(*) or what?"
Nero's eyes got blurrer. He does be panicked,he does be confused,he even does feel a little regret. Regret about what? He doesn’t know anymore.
"I love you. It's a different kind of love."
"The kind of... those time Dante teases me and Kyrie."
"I... Dante tells me lots of your stuffs."
"...Plenty of them."
"I don't understand myself either."
"But I...I love you so much..."
“Love the way you swing Yamato,”
“… or calmly read books,”
“…or meticulously clean your tea set…”
“Love your eyes.”
“…your hair.”
“ …your smug face.”
“…your voice.”
“…really,sometime,I…”
“…wish I can hear your reading…”
“…your everything.”
"…I love you..."
"…so much..."
“Am I…disgusting…?”
...
...
"Wake up boii it’s a bit late nooow"
Nero was startled awake by Dante's loud voice. Still in his sleepiness, he sat idly on the sofa, groping his belly for a bit, then heaved a sigh of relief. Luckily, he wasn't stabbed in the gut. Still hasn’t died yet. So there's still plenty of free time to watch and fiddle with his old man, even though doing that always makes Nero heart hurt a bit because he likes Vergil so much but he just simply can't do anything or gossip about it with anyone.
He didn't notice that Vergil, sitting in a nearby armchair for reading, had stopped paying attention to his precious book, and was focusing all of his attention on his son. His face was as bland as usual, but the corners of his lips were slightly hooked.
The man seemed like he found an odd amusement.
That night, Nero was getting ready to go to bed as usual when someone knocked on the door. As he opening the door, the mint scent filled the air. Nero blinked in surprise, looking at the man he secretly longed for day and night who stands at the door, dressed in pajamas and carrying a small stack of books in his hand.