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The Echoing Green

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Warm sunshine through their bedroom window did little to help his cold feet, clawed fingers pliant on letting softer human digits grasp and explore scutes of dark blue and dark red. His wings fluttered more than usual with nervous energy, ethereal claws readjusting on his shoulders every so often. Sitting on the floor, so as to avoid clawed feet catching or scratching up anything else.

Scuffed marks were easier to tackle and explain when not-as-familiar guests came over - deep gouges weren’t.

She was kneeling on her knees, sharpened cat-like eyes noticing one patch starting to loosen on her left sock, while part of her dress’s hem was beginning to fray a bit - Carlo tended to grab the bottom of their shirts and/or pants to get their attention or for reassurance. Kyrie hadn’t said anything after the pressure had eased, other than slowly tracing the glowing lines on his forearms.

A lot of focus was on his right arm, occasionally glowing gold not from the sun.

Stillness was never his thing, always needing to move in some way since childhood. But for her, he’d plant himself to one spot and sit on his hands.

One spectral claw extended out when she reached, limply letting her feel the long digits as well the feathers. Thumbs traced the track marks on his cheeks, before moving up to his horns, which he willingly tilted his head forward to let her better inspect, long hair shielding his face. He happily took in her scent, as well the other smells that clung to her - laundry soap, plants and dirt on tending to their little vegetable garden, the ever mix of recipe experiments, and the boys when they hung around her during sewing lessons.



And yet, as he sat there, Nero forced himself to not clench his claws into fists, all too aware of hard scales, rough leather, and jagged scutes. Some of the demonic instincts that he thought he had gotten used to since the False Savior seemed to had been heightened since Red Grave, ramped up more when in this form. While he wasn’t expending much energy by simply sitting there, he could still feel that thrum of power in his veins, roiling underneath his skin that wanted to be let out. More human than his father and uncle he might be, but there was always that underlying desire for violence, the need to cut loose every once in awhile to satisfy that part inside of him with fangs and claws.



(In a way, he probably shouldn’t had been surprised that the sense he came to recognize as his devil was far calmer whenever around Kyrie. Reminded him of how Shadow would laze around in the motorhome, leaning into the occasional scratching behind round ears from whoever was nearby.)

Yellow eyes blinked owlishly as she brushed his bangs aside.

Kyrie knew her significant other was always wary of himself, not long after the False Savior, and even more so now. There was that constant subconscious part of him that seemed to be aware of the fragility around him - when he tussled with the boys, handling some of the items around home, working with Nico on a new weapon...

...when alone around her.

Doing this, her examining him while Triggered, not long after his and Nico's return from Red Grave...

She supposed that it was to reassure herself as much as it was to reassure him.

Kyrie cupped his face while nuzzling her forehead to his, pleased at the happy rumble that came from him as the tension in his shoulders slowly eased out.

"You're still you, Nero. Never forget that."


Nico didn't even blink at the grumbling from her business partner as he climbed back into their motorhome, simply starting up the engine once the door slammed shut and taking off. Nero cursing at his long hair had become a bit commonplace, a detail that fascinated her after he had released his Trigger and his hair didn't return to his prior crew cut a few days ago. Unfortunately, they weren't able to contact either the twins for any ideas on why, due to both of them being away on jobs as well, so the younger duo were on their own. Part of her wondered if it was some weird form of evolution, partly because of their human heritage, some combination of both, or something entirely different. The possibilities...

It was only after the fifth dispatching of Hell Cainas that she finally got fed up at his increasingly snarling on his hair getting in the way.

"Why don' ya just cut it whenever you switch back?"

"Because it's a freaking chore to do so every time!" He swore viciously as he yanked a lock when it got stuck in part of his coat's zipper. "It's not like I carry a knife or scissors on me and like hell I'm going to use Red Queen to do the job! Where the hell is Dante when you need him..."

Nico sighed, moving her unlit cigarette about with her lips as she maneuvered their motorhome back on to the road with practiced ease. After some fishing about on the dashboard while still keeping an eye on the path, she extended out a rubber band. "S'all I got at the moment. Gonna be a bitch for you to remove it though."

A scowl as he bunched his hair back into a messy ponytail. "Whatever."

Kyrie had been partially worried after Nero voiced his annoyance during dinner after some minor struggle on removing the rubber band and untangling it. Having long hair herself and remembering most of the Knights having closely cropped haircuts, she understood the difficulties of unbound long hair during hard labor and high-energy activities. She also remembered the highly descriptive tale from one fisherman who told of how a young dock worker foolishly ignored the warnings to tie his hair back, and nearly died because some of his hair got tangled with the ropes and pulleys used to transfer cargo at the ports. Both she and Nico were also mildly amused when Julio and Kyle started teasing Nero about his hair until he picked them up with his claw-wings and mercilessly tickled them with human fingers, mock-threatening on sticking bows in their hair as they shrieked in a mix of laughter and horror.

Once the boys were put to bed and Nico having also gone to her bedroom, Kyrie waved at Nero over to her dresser as soon as he stepped out of their bathroom.

Nero raised a curious eyebrow, hanging the towel around his neck that he had been just using to dry his hair. "You need something?"

A small smile, one hand lifting a brush, the other with two hair ties on her wrist. "I could teach you a simple braid, other than a ponytail."

Stormy blue eyes blinked at her once and wordlessly he sat down in the chair. Allowing her to guide his head, Kyrie slowly brushed out the tangles with careful strokes. She had to bite back a giggle when she noticed Nero started to purr, and marveled at how smooth his hair still was - it reminded her of the one time he had reluctantly allowed her to play with his hair when they were children, although it was far more fluffier back then. Softly Kyrie explained the steps and guided his fingers on how to plait a simple braid once his hair was dry, figuring that a bun might not last as long if he had to Trigger and that it would be a bit more difficult for him to wrangle into if there was an emergency. Kyrie went through the motions several more times with him until Nero was able to at least get most of his hair into a reasonable plait by himself.

As the last twist of the tie snapped into place, Kyrie's fingers lingered on the white braid.

She remembered how she and her mother used to happily do each others' hair. As well her father, who proudly kept his neatly trimmed to his shoulders and happily let her play with it when he wasn't going over some paperwork. Like Nero, Credo would grumble about being "girled-up", but he always gave in to her demands, having mimicked their father on growing out his hair.

That stopped, after their deaths. Even with what few girl friends she had before the False Savior, there wasn't much time for such frivolous activities. Now with fostering three boys and fielding phone calls there was even less time, and Kyrie didn't want to distract Nico from her work either. (Although the engineer did admit to not minding the occasional pampering, opting for only her hairband most of the time - Nico still hadn't been able to figure out on how to deal with that one stray bang.)

Calloused fingers wrapped around hers, warm lips lightly touching knuckles before he pulled her close onto his lap, enveloping her gently in solid arms that had been worked by years of demon hunting. Dimly, Kyrie noticed that his purring hadn't stopped, only increasing a bit in intensity as she brushed her nose against his before he tucked her under his chin.

"Guess getting 'girled-up' isn't so bad anymore," Nero murmured softly. "Don't know how other guys handle it, but I'll live. ...although we're probably gonna need to buy hair ties in bulk."

Kyrie couldn't help but giggle, snuggling into his warmth. "Or Nico finds some way to use demon parts to create hair ties that won't break every time you Trigger."

A snort of laughter and the hint of fangs as he grinned. "Yeah, she would."


If it wasn’t for years of working with him as well making sure to be aware of her surroundings, Lady almost ignored the cursing from Dante about his hair amidst the storm of gunfire, screeching, explosions, and bone crunching.

For probably about the sixth time.

Or was it the seventh?

Either way, she was rather enjoying on listening to him recite Edgar Allan Poe as they went about literally murdering a murder of demonic crows. The local government had been trying to restart conservation efforts of the area, but none of the local demon hunters were available and the non-native avians had already sent some of the wildlife rangers to one of the hospitals.

"'"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,"' I said, '"art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the-"' SONUVA-!" Electricity sparked as Dante swung King Cerberus above him, sending several crows screeching back.

Lady resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she pulled out several electric-based grenades, ducking under grasping sharp talons before throwing them into the air. "Your hair again?"

"'"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!"'" Dante responded, left hand raking his long hair back while his right hand flipped out Coyote-A. "How the Hell does Trish handle this on her gigs?!"

She raised an eyebrow as the last of the crows died to a burst of missiles. "You could always cut it."

"Grows back every time I Trigger or when I sleep, same with Vergil and Nero." He grumbled a bit on how Sparda didn't leave behind notes indicating possible side effects of Triggering before brightening a bit. "Besides, I've kinda wanted it this long for awhile. Just couldn't bothered with growing it out the old fashion way."

A sigh, but more out of fond exasperation, hitching Kalina Ann a bit as Dante summoned Cavaliere. "I suppose I can solve your problem easily."

He paused on pulling out the helmet for her, raising an eyebrow. "No strings?"

"No strings." As if to emphasize her words, she held up her right hand. "Hunter's honor."

"Fine, I'll bite."

"One, park your ass on Cavaliere."

While curiosity had been both bane and blessing for him since childhood (that bee's nest incident wasn't entirely his fault, no matter how much Vergil insisted), he blinked icy blue eyes once and opted to humor her by sitting sideways on his demonic motorcycle.

"Two, don't think you got a spare belt without it's buc-" Heterochromatic eyes blinked at a disassembled belt suddenly held out to her. She ignored the cheeky grin as she rested Kalina Ann against Cavaliere, tucking away the frame and prong for some possible future use. "That'll do. Now, face forward and sit still."

Obviously with her own short hair, a quick combing at home or just running her fingers through if in a rush was all she needed. But with Dante, Lady carefully took her time to work out the tangles with her fingers. Surprised at how it wasn't as coarse as she initially thought, she did tamp down that brief bit of envy at how infuriatingly smooth it was in spite of the few specks of blood and dirt, the knots practically falling away. Feeling vibrations that she knew wasn't from the motorcycle, Lady couldn't help but smile at how relaxed Dante was enough to start purring as she slowly used her fingers as a makeshift comb - he'd be a bit more tense if there were still demons in the area.

Dante couldn't help but relax a bit under her ministrations. Sure, it brought up memories of how Eva used to let him and Vergil play with her hair, yet at the same time the pain wasn't as bad as he thought it'd be. Maybe because it was Lady that was doing this, the motions calming both him and his devil down a bit quicker in spite of them being out in the open and post a battle-high. Trust was there between them, although he guessed that his devil and himself wouldn't accept anyone else to do this, other than Kyrie or maybe Trish. It was nice, nonetheless.

(Nice. Now that was a word that Dante could truly use in this situation without any irony.)

"There, done." Lady lightly smacked him on his shoulder after putting on the finishing touches, tugging to make sure the leather strip wasn't going to unwind. The leather belt had to be both cut shorter and in half lengthwise so she could use it to tie off the ponytail, and she made a mental note to remind him on finding sturdy hair ties. Or at least buy multiple packs. "Be glad I'm not creating a new tab for this alone."

"Hey, you promised no strings!" Despite the ridiculously boyish pout, Dante turned his head this way and that, examining her handiwork in one of Cavaliere's side mirrors and watching how his new ponytail swung. He all but beamed, spinning around to face her with a large grin. “This, I definitely like! Maybe I should complain a bit more often, eh.”

“Please, you'd never stop bugging me.” She also couldn’t help but grin back at him as she pulled her gloves back on. “If anything, I’ll teach you how to tie it yourself, unless you do something to it. Still, I’m amazed that you were able to see through that mop of yours up to now.”

Something warm in her curled a bit at the slight crook in his smile and as he tugged her closer.

"Well, all you had to do was ask if you wanted to see my baby blues."

Dante smiled wider at the slight pink that flitted across her face, chuckling as she smacked him again before urging him to drive them home, shoving her helmet on to hide her own smile.

Sparring with Vergil and beating back the demon hordes that'd try to interrupt them was fun and all (he was still leading, no matter what his big brother argued), but he was glad to be back in the Human World for most of its comforts. Like the strawberry sundaes that Restaurant Fredi still made, Cindy having now taken ownership of the diner. There was the freshly churned strawberry ice cream from that shop near the park, sometimes "shared" when Patty swung by. Not to mention his favorite pizzeria, even though they'd occasionally prank him by adding olives to his orders. There was also hanging out at Bullseye with Morrison, and watching the awkward snark-fest between his brother and nephew.

And yet that didn't top the warmth he enjoyed as Lady tightened her arms around him as they took off back into the city, his ponytail streaming like a silver banner.


Tension being high between the two of them, Trish had expected as she walked through the streets of the mid-size city, occasionally pausing to speak with stall owners for some of the latest gossip as there was a local fair going on.

Tension being high enough to make the surrounding humans skittish and skirt around her and Vergil...

Alright, that was also expected. While she put out a "queen bitch" aura (as Dante and Nero sometimes joked) that kept normal humans in awe and some distance from her, Vergil was downright chilly in his indifferent silence as he followed behind her.

Not that she could blame him. They were the only ones available for the job that Morrison had brought in. It seemed small, more fact finding regarding a suspicious antique in a city several counties over, but as they were still paying off the city's bills and renovating Devil May Cry at the same time, they didn't had a choice but to take it. About the only positive thing was that their client had sprung for business class train tickets, meals included.

However, Vergil's brooding stoicism didn't stop some lovesick sighs that their enhanced hearing would catch, most of the attention directed at the older half-devil. Trish swore some muscles she didn't knew she had were pulled from trying so hard not to laugh at the barely visible perturbed look on his face in regards to some of the more risque comments both were able to pick up. From the narrowed glare he shot at her, he knew that the electric she-devil was highly amused, and let out a tiny sigh through his nose, knowing that this detail would get back to his little brother. Deciding not to provoke the proverbial dragon anymore, Trish simply smiled and kept walking, humming a foreign song she had recently heard and liked.

To say that their meeting after the twins' return being almost a literal dumpster fire was partially putting it mildly (Dante was glad that the damages this time was mostly cosmetic and easily fixable after a trip to the hardware store). For the first several days, neither of them could really stand to be within the same room or space for more than fifteen minutes before one of them left when things got a bit much - he for the same reasons as Dante, her for remembering of her origins. Even with the shared past of being Mundus's subordinates, that wasn't something either could reminiscent over well without at least trying to get buzzed. It had been Kyrie's idea that they try to work on missions together, much to Nero and Dante's partial horror (and worry), although to everyone's complete shock, Trish and Vergil had agreed.

They still had trouble talking to each other, although not for lack of trying.

Their client ran a highly acclaimed antiques and book shop, and the item in question was luckily more benign on being designed to generate a shield, but Trish did warn the curio that it would probably better in the hands of experienced people. More than pleased to have that question easily solved, their client happily offered to discount some of the shop's items in addition to their payment. Trish wisely said nothing as Vergil made his purchase of books, noticing one volume being on the topic of therapy and another on familial relationships - she supposed that with their dysfunctional and ragtag family of misfits, it had merit.

As it was going to be several hours until their scheduled train to return home, the duo found themselves in a private booth of one of the local pubs for a meal and to at least listen in on to more gossip. As much as Vergil disliked the small talk that Trish often participated in with other humans, he had quickly learned that it was a form of covert intelligence gathering. Perhaps listening in to the citizens of Fortuna at the markets might help him on better connecting with Nero, the residual worshipers aside.

(In hindsight, he conceivably shouldn't had been that dismissive of the Order the first time he had visited the island. To learn how close Nero - his own flesh and blood, his son - came to dying and falling as badly as he could've come Temen-ni-gru...

To see a glimpse of himself in Nero, that particular part, dredged up an emotion he thought he had thrown away: fear.)

As much as he enjoyed sparring with Dante and beating back the demon hordes that would try to interrupt them was grand and all in the Demon World (he was still leading, no matter what his little brother argued), Vergil internally admitted to himself - again - that there was no beating around the bush of a good warm meal from the Human World. He was gradually discovering some dishes he thought he had once disliked before he now didn't mind, some he found took some getting used to, and another category would bring up bittersweet memories of childhood. That last part had prompted him to write down what recipes he could remember into a notebook and left it behind for Kyrie to find. He had pretended to not notice the suspiciously wet eyes on his little brother when one dinner night included roast beef with homemade tomato sauce, although he silently basked warmly in Nero's delight alongside Nico's crowing praise of the dish.

Except this meal would be a bit more enjoyable if it wasn't for his now long hair. Gray eyebrows furrowed upon having to tuck several stray strands behind his ear so that they wouldn't fall into the steaming cottage pie and cause a mess. All the while ignoring the slight smirk that Trish was no longer hiding over her fish pie, as well more lovesick sighs from some of their neighboring fellow customers. (It probably was a good thing that he got assigned with Trish as his hunting partner, because Dante would no doubt be preening from all the female attention.)

Perfecting his skills and the dance of combat, he didn't mind. Classical music plus seeking knowledge, he savored.

Learning that his hair grew whenever he released his Trigger or slept was not something mentioned in his time of researching human-demon hybrids. Cutting it down to his preferred length hadn't really alleviate the problem either, and normal human hair ties always broke when he had to Trigger.

Not for the first time, nor the last, he briefly cursed his father for leaving so soon and not leaving behind any additional notes that could be easily found. Although perhaps that was the entire point as Sparda would've been careful, which meant visiting the old home for clues was in order.

Vergil felt that sarcasm was beneath him, but he supposed in the spirit of his brother and son, planning that trip was going to be fun.

Noticing her smirk soften, he simply raised an eyebrow in question.

A minuscule flare of demon magic and the brief smell of burnt ozone preceded her pretending to pull from her pocket what looked like a black ribbon with stylized Eastern dragons that showed up when angled under the light. She flicked her eyes to the top of his head, tilting her head towards his bag where a book cover showing a samurai with his topknot peeked out.

"'The weeping child could not be heard, The weeping parents wept in vain: They stripped him to his little shirt, And bound him in an iron chain,'" she spoke lowly, face now a bit more solemn.

An offering.

Both of them tended to follow their demonic instincts a little more often than Dante or Nero, so while she didn't always acted subordinate under him in part because of him being more powerful, he respected her desire on trying to live as a human. As well that Trish was always making sure to stay out of Eva's shadow, on continuing to be her own person. Kindness, from a demon who wore his mother's face - perhaps she wasn't that completely different from her, if he tried to think of Trish as a sister.

Eva might actually approve of that thought.

"Tell me... was this fool before you right?"

"I'm not your mommy, V. You're a big boy."

That tension that had been there earlier had lessened a bit.

Cautiously, he accepted the ribbon, feeling the silk-like texture under calloused fingertips before sweeping his hair up high and quickly tying the gathered bunch into a tail with her gift. Luckily there was a mirror that hung in the booth and ignoring the doe eyes from most of the other female customers, Vergil nodded to himself in satisfaction after a quick examination, pleased to still have some of his fringe to keep him differentiated from Dante. Turning back to Trish, he lifted his glass of ale towards her.

"'Can I see a falling tear, And not feel my sorrow’s share? Can a father see his child Weep, nor be with sorrow fill'd?'" he answered, just as quiet.

Both of them had already suffered from their demonic sires' sins, and yet they live because of Dante's own human kindness.

Relief and understanding, Trish lightly clinked her glass against his.

Even if they weren't likely to talk it out loud often, they would try to get along, for their family's sake.


"'I'mma bomb you can't defuse, Might just 'cept yer gonna lose...'" Nico sang alongside the radio, tightening a bolt while underneath the motorhome. She was definitely going to name it "Minotaurus", after that random bumper sticker one crazy drunkard had stuck on no matter what Nero said, and the fact that this sucker had rammed through demons and obstacles like a bull. Going to need to see if she could find a place that had jacks to give her better clearance for easier welding, because the jacks she and Nero had weren't going to be enough. "'Can't turn down, I refuse; To hold back anymore...'"


Barely stifling her shriek of surprise, Nico cursed as she banged her head on one of the armor plates and rolled out from underneath the rolling chassis, scowling up at the older Son of Sparda. "The Hell was that for, man? You're no demon, you're a freaking ghost cat, thas what you are."

There was no missing that slight curl of amusement as he turned down the radio to a softer volume. "My apologies, Nicoletta. If you have some time available at the moment?"

Pausing on rubbing her smarting forehead, Nico squinted at Vergil suspiciously through her glasses. "Yeah, you need somethin'? Sure, this ain't all that of a rush job, but I'd rather not have to worry about demon parts or rocks cutting through one of the lines or punching any holes. Really, I should be chargin' you out the nose for the suspension work because of the Qliphoth - you have no idea the Hell those shocks went through."

Shame that he had no skills to assist as a form of restitution, and his old sense of pride would've prevented him from even offering in the first place. Alas, that mental other noted that humility was the better path to take in this particular endeavor. He'll also have to see if at least some of his parents' finances had survived, having noticed both Dante and Kyrie's ledgers being a bit more red than black. "I... have need of your skills."

That itch to create something hooked its fingers in her, but she stayed seated on the cart, staring up at Vergil and barely catching that slight twitch of fingers. Already the pain on her forehead had dulled to a minor throb. "This outta be good... Are you lookin' for a new weapon?"

"Nero told me of your ability to work with demonic materials." Calloused fingers withdrew a coil of yellow cord with fraying ends, a small bundle of what looked like silver-white hair, and a strip of cloth that was navy blue bordering on black.

"Not enough for a weapon, so that ain't it..." she muttered to herself, trying to place where the materials had to come from. The hair was easily his, given that distinct shade and shine. The cloth strip reminded her of his coat, but she wasn't quite sure about the yellow cord. "The Hell yer askin' me to make exactly? This is barely enough to even be used to tie a person up by their wrists as emergency cuffs."

"The cloth is from my coat-"

"Thought so."

"-while my hair is obvious," he continued as if he wasn't interrupted. Vergil paused, fingering the yellow cord. "This sageo... was tied to Yamato, from before. It was a part of Yamato as much as it was a part of me, so hypothetically..."

" would've soaked up a lot of your energies over the years," Nico followed, somewhat intrigued. She had noticed that the cord currently tied to Yamato was also navy blue. "Definitely ain't for fightin', but you don't seem to be a fashion designer or interior decorator type."

He had to admire the cheekiness of her continual cavalier attitude towards him. "My request is if you can combine all three into a cord or ribbon and have it ready within three days' time, and not a single word to any other person. I... do not have the more traditional finances to provide normal compensation at the moment, however I can provide some assistance for your research from my collection."

Nico frowned at the time frame, before she glanced over at the calendar. (If she could, she'd be dancing in glee that such a proud man was asking her - her! - for a commission, even if it wasn't an arms.) The aforementioned date was circled, stars drawn around it. She looked at the provided materials, then at Vergil who was coolly looking back, and then at the calendar again before an enormous grin split her face.

"Two days, and you have a deal, Papa V."

Relief and exasperation. "I would request that you desist calling me that, but I highly doubt you'd listen."

Her glasses gleamed as an idea fully sprang up in her mind, snatching all three items from his hand. "Got that right, Papa V!"

A resigned sigh before he left.

Three days later, Nero and Kyrie's home was a mess of people shouting over each other happily, Julio and Kyle chasing a playful Dante in a mock hunt with toy swords, food and drinks shared, and various odd gifts being dropped off by some of the townsfolk that Nero and Nico had helped over the past several months. They were all glad that even though it was still early fall in the middle of the Mediterranean climate with the occasional chilly breeze, the day's celebrations was under a blue sky with several clouds.

Vergil was lucky enough to catch Nero by himself in the kitchen digging through the refrigerator for a cold drink, and silently held out a slim white box with a blue bow towards his son. Stormy blue eyes blinked in confusion at the item before glancing over to his father, now leaning nonchalantly against the counter and sipping a glass of water. Not getting any clue, Nero cautiously opened it to see a yellow ribbon with silver and dark blue lines in a vine-like pattern that looked familiar, putting off a faint hint of demonic energy. Furrowing his eyebrows, Nero struggled to remember where he had seen such a design before sucking in a breath, recalling the same light blue vines on the arms of a certain navy blue coat. He was dimly surprised that he didn't suffer whiplash as he turned to stare at his father, eyes wide.

Vergil tilted his head slightly, several strands from his high ponytail sliding over his shoulder.

Internally cursing himself for showing how shaky his hands were, Nero tightly tied the new ribbon at the base of his braid before removing the normal hair tie, it being his fifth one. He could better sense that demonic twinge, echoing what he was feeling from his father, now that the ribbon was much closer. Reflexively, he rubbed the side of his nose with his left hand.

"'From thy cheek & from thy eye, O'er the youthful harvests nigh, Infant wiles & infant smiles, Heaven & Earth of peace beguiles,'" the eldest of Sparda's descendants spoke softly, putting the glass down on the counter with a soft clink.

"'T-then every man, of every clime, That prays in his distress, P-prays to the human form divine, Love, Mercy, Pity, Peace.'" Nero couldn't help but flush a bit, ducking his head, feeling like he was a child again.

Giggles from children mixed with booming laughter outside, as well smells of food being cooked drifting in. The breeze that had been present since that morning died down, leaving behind a more comfortable chill.

'I suppose... Dante's reasoning of staying in the Human World is far more sound than I could've argued.' Vergil didn't bother fighting the small smile on his face, nor the warmth in his chest when Nero leaned into the comforting pat on his head.