[Nero couldn't necessarily be faulted if he felt the question wasn't sincere. Most people probably would not ask and would make their safe assumptions about why Nero felt the whole affair has been, in his own words, stupid. But for better or worse, Vergil tries to err on the side of caution when it comes to assumptions pertaining to Nero as best he can.]
[Vergil's hand between Nero's shoulder blades moves back up to his head, running fingers through Nero's hair. He does not bother with asking what is so different about this that Nero is struggling so much to accept his limits today. Vergil already knows the answer because Vergil was hardly any different when it came to his parents, and especially his father. Dante's heads up about Nero getting in his head over wanting to keep pace and impress both him and Dante also certainly did not hurt in making Vergil more cognizant of that fact.]
[The arm around Nero releases before the Yamato is tucked beneath Vergil's arm at his side. He nudges Nero to stand upright a little better, holding Nero's face in both of his hands.]
I know you are not a child, but you have also not been someone's son for any longer than I have been someone's father. So, if I may suggest it, you ought to try extending some of the same grace you have given me in that regard to yourself right now.
[Man. Vergil really is all precision when he wants to be. There's a bullseye straight through the static and right into the heart of the problem, even if he can't quite articulate all the complicated facets of what and why.
He feels terribly vulnerable with his face between Vergil's hands, brought up to look him in the eye. The expression is something quite similar to worry, in fact.]
It's not you. It's me. [He's not sure why that's the very first thing he needs to say. But there it is.] It's stupid. It's not even a real problem.
[He sighs quietly. Nero is right in that it's not a real problem, but not for the reasons he likely possesses for deeming it as such. Regardless of whether or not Vergil's best guess at what is going on inside Nero's head is really what's going on for him right now, the problem is something Nero has conjured up for himself and does not truly lie between father and son right now.]
[Although there's a slight furrow in his brow, Vergil does not look at Nero with a critical eye right now.]
Nero, stop. Just listen to me. And before you respond, just take a moment with my words first. A real moment. Not in one ear and out the other.
[One of his hands moves down to Nero's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.]
When I was a boy, all I ever wanted was to please my parents. Nothing made me happier when Mother told me I did something well, or Father said he was proud of me. But nothing made me feel angrier or more frustrated and disappointed in myself than when I felt I fell short of their expectations. Mother barely had to say or do anything for me to know I disappointed her, and I would be in an inconsolable fit of tears. All it took was a few words from Father and I would be stuck replaying them over and over in my head for days afterward. It did not matter to me if it was a mistake that could not have been prevented, or if my own expectations were simply unreasonable, or how foolish I felt for my outbursts later. My reaction was the same each time.
But what I did not understand then is that regardless of whether either of them were ever truly disappointed or I had simply imagined it, they did not think of my mistakes afterward. My mistakes never really mattered, and were never such devastating blows as I thought they were in how they thought of me or what they felt towards me.
[Much as the problem Nero's conjured for himself exists only in his head, so, too, did those problems only exist in Vergil's head. It's a habit Vergil knows he still carries, still becomes lost in once the tide of emotion arises even when a rational part of himself knows better. After all, the memories of his parents still remains colored by those old concerns and hurts even as much as he can recognize now how wrong he was. It's just simply not something that disappears overnight as much as Vergil wishes it could or would be.]
So, whatever outcome you have convinced yourself hangs in the balance, I am telling you that it does not. Whatever opinion you think I might have of you right now, I promise you I do not hold it. [He gives Nero's shoulder another squeeze.] You have nothing to prove to me, Nero. You could have landed absolutely no blows today, and I would not think of you any differently than I did before we sparred.
You are my son. And I will always be proud of you. What you do or do not do will never change that.
[He doesn't try to argue or refuse to listen, even if he does have to divert his eyes. He just can't keep Vergil's gaze while his father absolutely pinpoints the worry, like he can see easily through all the emotional muck and hangups and whatever else makes it too tangled for Nero to figure out himself. Because it sounds like he went through the very same thing once.
He's had A Parent for all of a few months now, and didn't expect all the immediate, inborn longing for acknowledgment that would come with it. Though it's not a new feeling at all. Nero's felt it since he was little, when he would act on his best behavior for Sister Maria in particular, because it made her smile. Since he'd be obedient for Kyrie's parents whenever they visited. Since he sweat and bled and cried for Credo's approval, torn between how much he craved it and how much he hated falling in line, trying to sand off his edges to fit in with the other knights. The more time passes since his mentor's death, the more Nero wishes he was here so he could ask him if he ever could have made him happy. If he ever did. If it would have stopped him from falling in with Sanctus' plans and betraying Nero, then changing his mind and dying for it.
There's always been Kyrie, but she's always been his peer. He craved for the approval of an authority, an older man especially. But growing up without parents, without anyone but authority that only wanted him when he behaved and followed orders, that was the only way to receive it. What other way would anyone ever approve of him? What would otherwise stop them from rejecting him, too?
Now as plainly as if it was written on his shirt, Vergil's seen how desperately he's trying to prove himself to him, and told him that he does not need to. That he's proud of him. His father is proud of him, regardless of how he fights or what he does.
He can't even lift his fact again for a moment, eyes clenched shut, tears silently trailing down his cheeks.]
Nobody ever-- has been. Nobody wanted me to be me. Just to shut up and fight.
Your uncle and I only want you to be safe and happy, [he says, wiping away the tears with the hand not upon his shoulder. Normally, he would not speak for Dante like that, but he cannot imagine Dante objecting to that assertion. Not when he sacrificed so much in those five years in keeping Nero at arm's length to avoid drawing Nero further into his grandfather's legacy and the consequences that come from it.] It is not for us to decide anything else for you beyond that.
[He wonders if Nero knows just how different his life would have been had circumstances been so that Vergil would have had the courage to stay with his mother even if not in Fortuna. He knows there's likely been fantasies built up in his head of what it would have been to have two parents who loved him more than anything, but there are probably still yet some things he cannot fathom because it simply is impossible to know so intimately the things one has not experienced firsthand. But Vergil would like to think in those circumstances, where he had it within him to stay instead of running away as he had in reality, Nero would have been permitted to grow up without ever needing to pick up a sword. That he would have been allowed to pursue any number of passions long before learning to wield a blade or firing a gun. And even in the absence of that ideal, Vergil would hope that Nero would know his worth had either one of his parents if not both of them in his life. He did not need to prove anything to anyone because he was loved so tremendously beyond just the moment he was born and whatever time Beatrice was able to give him.]
If all I cared for was your strength and skill in battle, why would I ever watch those videos of those men beating one another senseless with chairs or dropping down on one another from ladders with you when you ask? Why would I see to it that your home here has a place where you can work on your projects at your leisure? Much less, why would I ever allow you to put me in that horrendous sweater on Christmas?
Frankly, if the sweater did not result in me renouncing you as my son, you should remain confident nothing will.
[He's joking a little by the end there with the commentary upon the matching Christmas sweaters to lighten some of the tension he knows Nero must be feeling, but the point is nonetheless a serious one. If all he was ever interested in was knowing his son's strength as a warrior, and it was that alone that sparked any interest in Nero, he wouldn't have wholeheartedly agreed to delay sparring with him like this, and instead taken the time to learn more of his interests and hobbies. Even as Vergil asks perhaps too many questions during the wrestling videos and he somewhat awkwardly just keeps himself out of the way when he pays a visit to Nero in the garage, he's present in those moments for the same reason he's willing to listen to songs that are far from the sort of music he enjoys and tries a sample of food when he's asked. They are things important to his son, and whether or not Vergil necessarily likes any of it or understands their appeal, it still helps him to understand and know Nero better. And it's worth whatever confusion or discomfort or awkwardness that might sometimes come along with it for the sake of knowing Nero because Nero shall always be worth it.]
[That his father and uncle want him to be safe and happy. Sometimes, it's to an annoying level-- like Dante's bad habit of shoving Nero out of things that really ought to be his business, even for his own good. But that aside, neither of them have ever given him reason to believe he's only worth what strength he has as a fighter. Dante, certainly never. And Vergil... even his far more stern, less social, more combat-focused father has done nothing to suggest it. Not with any of his cognizant actions, anyway. It's not fair to hold Urizen against him, or to extrapolate assumptions about him into unwritten standards that Vergil himself has never tried to impose.
It's as Nero said. A problem he created himself, spun up from his own experiences, the damage he carries from his childhood. On some level he knows that, and yet... there is something incredibly powerful about hearing Vergil say it all explicitly.
He sniffles. Clenches his eyes shut when Vergil touches his face. So this is what it feels like to have your father wipe your tears away... even as part of him is embarrassed for it, another part marvels and treasures the opportunity. And he can't help but crack a smile when Vergil mentions the sweater, which he was inarguably a good sport about. And the wrestling. And all the other shit Nero's been putting him through out of powerful desire to find common ground, to build something solid with his father. The same desire that makes him panic when he feels inadequate at the one thing he does know they both share.
Nero shakes his head a little and reaches up to rub his own eyes with both hands. Building his composure back, little by little.]
I'm not good at believing that kind of stuff. But I'm trying to learn how to. [A swallow, and he peers at Vergil between his fingers. It's just as he said before.] New at this "son" thing, you know?
[Vergil's hands fall away from Nero as he reaches up to rub his own eyes, leaving him unimpeded in gathering himself back up. There's a brief flicker of a smile as it seems everything has settled down. At least for now. It's certainly not going to be the last time the feeling of inadequacy rears its ugly head for either of them, and it would be foolish to assume otherwise. But at the very least, Nero is feeling better, and he believes Vergil for the moment that his opinion of Nero is not rooted in his strength or fighting prowess never mind his performance today. Not that there was anything actually poor about it to begin with. The fact he landed anything for his first time sparring with Vergil is impressive in its own right.]
[Perhaps he may believe Vergil's word more that he did well if he ends up sharing any of the training itself with Dante. He can't imagine his brother wouldn't praise Nero for getting in the dozen or so strikes he managed, knowing the difficulty Vergil poses with his speed alone. Nero ought to trust his opinion enough to know Dante isn't out to just inflate his ego, and Vergil was not merely saying as much in attempt to soothe a bruised ego.]
You've done well at it so far, [he says, transferring Yamato back to his hand.] Go on and collect your blade. If you're anything like your uncle, I imagine you've worked up an appetite by now.
[It does help that he frankly cannot imagine Vergil saying anything untrue in order to soothe a bruised ego. Or lying in general. The man is honest to a fault on basically any topic that doesn't involve himself. If he was just puffing up Nero to make him feel better, it would be incredibly obvious.
The anger is fading, and he's left to deal with the embarrassment and shame it leaves behind. A ridiculous display by any definition. But he tries hard to apply that grace of his inward, treat it the way he did when Vergil flew off the handle that day they had their hard conversation. Firmly, but kindly: stop beating yourself up. Especially over things that nobody is going to hold against you.
Jeez. They really are father and son, huh...
Still, red-eyed and both physically and emotionally sore, he does look a little hangover-sulky yet as he heads over to pull Red Queen out of the ground.]
I'm starving. [And beat to hell. He really wants to sit down for like, half a day.] What are you thinking?
Your choice. I'm not particularly hungry, [he says, watching Nero as he makes his way back to Red Queen and removes her from the ground. Nero does well in masking it, but Vergil would hazard a guess that he's more bruised than he's letting on. Vergil did not take it easy on him simply because Nero is his son. Mistakes as they sparred were punished just harshly and swiftly as they would be were it anyone else in the absence of Nero setting a further limit.]
God, how? [Muttered more to himself than a real question. He could take out an entire cow right now with the hollow emptiness in his stomach. It's like every calorie he ate so far today went straight through him and came out in sparring.
As he straps Red Queen to his back, he thinks about it a moment.]
I want noodles. Like a big ol' honking bowl of noodle soup.
[Even if he hadn't muttered it to himself, the most Vergil would be able to give in response would be a shrug. There's been enough periods of time in his life where he's had less, and less secure means of feeding himself that he's grown accustomed to it. At least, that's how Vergil would prefer to think of it relative to the alternatives of how other things in his life may have changed him.]
[At his request for a large bowl of noodles, Vergil nods and draws Yamato once more to open a portal. He knows of a place in Epiphany. He's been there a handful of times with Mizu after a morning or afternoon in the library together before parting ways. If the portions lent themselves to Mizu not ordering several bowls, they should be enough for Nero. He waits until Nero joins him again before stepping through the portal and out the other side to the street in Epiphany.]
[The doorway to the shop is just a few steps down from the street itself, and left wide open even in the cooler temperatures of winter. Even standing on the street itself, the heat of the shop can be felt radiating outward. A wooden menu board sits outside just next to the entryway with a listing of the day's specials, pictures included. Vergil walks ahead of Nero, but stops at the entryway to raise the cloth banners hanging down with Yamato for Nero to duck inside first. The majority of seating inside is countertop, right in front of the kitchen area, but there are a few small tables scattered about the rest of the floor that can be moved around with chairs as needed for larger groups.]
Pick what you want, [Vergil says, nodding to the ticket machine near to the entrance with the entirety of the menu available, including appetizers, beverages, and dessert.] Take the ticket to the counter, pay, and have a seat wherever you like.
[Normally, Vergil would be willing to pay for whatever Nero wanted and one look at the prices on the ticket machine would indicate this isn't a particularly expensive menu. But his funds are a little depleted after the holiday, and while he would not necessarily admit such a thing aloud... Vergil is willing to allow mild implication by not making any offer to pay.]
[Nero would also suggest Vergil's not hungry because he hardly broke a sweat in their spar. But that's a slippery slope to getting himself mad all over again.
The shop is nice and warm inside, and it's gonna feel good to sit and drink something hot. He does give Vergil a bit of a side-eye at telling Nero to pay. Normally he's jumping to be the one to pay, but it is a little funny to suggest going out and have Nero cover his own ticket.
[Vergil's brow furrows a little when he's told to go sit, and the implicit offer is to pay for him. He doesn't exactly bristle at the offer, but neither does he readily accept it.]
Jasmine tea is fine... [he says, walking away to sit at one of the tables.]
[He would just ask for water alone considering it's the only item on the menu that doesn't cost anything, but Vergil knows he's not going to be allowed to walk away if he simply declines altogether or tries for something like that. So, an inexpensive tea it is.]
[He'd joke that "loser pays" but he doesn't think Vergil would take it as a joke. Neither would he, actually.
At least because he's paying, Nero feels no guilt getting exactly what looks good. After some time up at the ticket machine, he pays the clerk and then comes over to sit across from Vergil. His eyes are a little red still, but he looks moderately less glum than earlier. In this lighting it's a little easier to see how scuffed-up he is, though, and there's the unmistakable ginger movements of someone trying to avoid aggravating an injury.
A staff member drops off two waters, and two cups of jasmine tea. Look, Vergil. Nero even takes a sip before he starts looking around for sugar, only relenting when he realizes there isn't any.
Then he kind of just stares at Vergil, not having a clue what to say, to the point he lets out a brief sigh and attempts to fix his no-doubt mussed up hair. Damn. When you really don't want to talk about something, but also it's the only thing on your mind...]
[He thinks better of asking Nero, but Vergil wonders privately if his healing factor has changed or improved at all since the full extent of his power has awakened. Vergil lacks the reference point to determine it certainly for himself beyond the observation that it is slower than either his or Dante's healing. Now is not the time to ask though. Not when Nero's pride is likely more damaged and battered than he is physically at present despite the visible improvement to his mood. So, instead of asking, he waits for Nero to begin the conversation again. Nothing comes though as staff bring them drinks. He raises a slight eyebrow at Nero also ordering tea and watches him with a mild bit of skepticism as he takes that first sip. Surprisingly, he pulls no faces or overt signs of disliking it, but Vergil will be surprised if it's touched any further let alone finish before the water.]
[Vergil sips at his own tea idly in their silence. He's not looking at Nero, instead watching the movement in the kitchen from their position, but he can feel his son's eyes on him. Glancing at him as he's fixing his hair, Vergil wonders if perhaps he's looking for him to make conversation. Surely not. He knows Vergil is terrible at it generally speaking, and is always far more comfortable with following another's lead. But the silence stretches on after Nero's quiet sigh.]
[Alright, let's see...]
[He idly drums a finger against his cup of tea as he mulls over the possibilities. Anything pertaining to their training session is off-limits as far as Vergil is concerned. Too tricky of a minefield with Nero only just coming down from the height of his emotion. He could mention how and why he knows this place, but that's irrelevant and if Nero cared, he would have asked already. He could ask what Nero ordered for himself, but that's not likely going to lead to much by way of conversation either. Perhaps his plans for the rest of the day? No... But maybe...?]
You've been here for a while now in Folkmore. Do you feel you're settling in?
[Vergil knows Nero has been trying to explore different parts of Folkmore every now and again. He imagines by now he has found places he enjoys and possibly made himself some acquaintances at the very least if not friends.]
[It has... but mostly when he's in Devil Trigger. Nero heals faster than an ordinary human, but nowhere near fast enough to compare with Dante and Vergil casually wearing a blade to the heart or getting battered beyond what a human could take. He's not going to start feeling any improvement for a few hours yet, unless he can slyly snap into DT and kickstart it. Which would imply that he's hurt, which he doesn't want to reveal, so he'll just be wincing and faking it for a while yet.
He's expecting to just weather the silence until he comes up with something good to talk about, but is pleasantly surprised when Vergil actually comes up with one first.]
Yeah. I guess so. I don't think it'll ever stop being weird, but...
[Another sigh as he picks up his tea. The heat feels nice even if he doesn't super enjoy the taste.]
I've been thinking about Kyrie lately. I mean, I always think about her, but...
You miss her more than usual right now, [Vergil supplies easily. It's not hard to think of why she would be on Nero's mind more than is typical for him (which was likely already a lot). Christmas has come and gone, and New Year's is on the horizon. It's all time he's supposed to be spending with her, not apart. Plus when considering this is likely the longest he's been away from her perhaps since he's known her... Well. It's really only inevitable for him to be feeling a bit miserable right now.] I'm sorry, Nero. I cannot imagine it's easy being far from her this time of the year knowing how strongly you feel for her.
[It does seem somewhat cruel for the Fox to have not also brought her here with Nero. Much as Vergil thought it cruel for her to have waited so long in bringing Dante here. The again, Kyrie may just simply possess more sense than any of them, and not followed after a fox spirit as they had.]
Yeah. [Vergil hits it on the head once again. Maybe he's more astute than he lets on. Or maybe Nero has just been that obviously pathetic and sadsack about missing his girlfriend.
He offers a weak little crack of a smile.] Not that I would trade getting to be with you and Dante for her, but... I've never been away from her this long in our whole lives. It's hard. I just hope she really isn't worried about me. Or doesn't even notice I'm gone, however that works.
[Kyrie possesses 1000% more sense than all three of them put together.]
[Vergil pauses when Nero says he can't wait for Vergil to meet Kyrie, cup close enough that he's about to take another sip of his tea. It's not that Vergil believed he would never be allowed the chance to meet her. To some extent, that was always going to be inevitable. But Vergil also doesn't doubt that in the ferocity of Nero's feelings for Kyrie, there is an equally fearsome protectiveness for her as well. So, it strikes him as remarkable to hear Nero say that, to not dread the moment Vergil and Kyrie come face to face with one another beyond whatever way in which children always have a bit of anxiety about their parents meeting their choice in partner, but to actually look forward to it. Without having taken a sip, Vergil sets his cup back down.]
I would like to meet her, [he says with a small nod, not bothering with elaborating on the reasons why when Nero knows them well enough all in his own. Instead, he adds with a glance away from Nero,] When she is ready to meet me.
[They haven't spoken about it since that conversation on the balcony of Vergil's old apartment. It's not something that Vergil particularly dwells upon either. Not all that often, anyways. But he remembers what Nero said about that day Vergil attacked him in the garage and made off with his arm. Kyrie had been there, and seen the aftermath.]
[His glance away is not out of self-pity though, or even necessarily out of shame. He would not fault her if it took some time for her to feel comfortable enough to meet him regardless of whatever reassurance Nero offered or how much she trusted his judgment. Vergil would not force the matter any more than he has been or would be interested in forcing a relationship between Nero and himself. But it is an uncomfortable thing no matter what in knowing that the first impression that young woman has of Vergil is what it is even if it is simply the consequences of his choices. So, it is merely a brief glance away. Nothing prolonged or terrible.]
...I suppose I would like the opportunity to apologize to her as well. Even if not a direct apology then at least to provide her with less reason to worry or be fearful of me.
[It's normally not the sort of thing that he would admit aloud to anyone, but he feels it's important enough to swallow his pride and acknowledge it to Nero even if no one else. Then Nero will know that even if Vergil had not responded to Nero's words well that day, in the moment when they were said, he heard the entirety of what he said and not just the part meant to settle Vergil well enough to hear the primary point of wanting to trust him. Even if he does not dwell upon it much, Vergil's had more time to think on the repercussions of his actions beyond the immediate and the obvious. And he knows he wronged Kyrie and Nico as well in what he did that day, just in a far less direct manner.]
[When Vergil says he wants to apologize to Kyrie, Nero's face lights up like it hasn't since well before the spar that day. It's one thing to acknowledge that Kyrie might not be ready to meet him straight out the gate. But it's quite another to say, of his own volition, that he wants to apologize to her.
After all, the direct harm was done to Nero, but he passed out so fast he barely had time to be register what happened, much less be frightened. Kyrie (and Nico, too) had to find him facedown in a pool of his own blood, tourniquet his arm, get him to the hospital, and spend over a week terrified he was going to die. That Vergil considers that, that he's thought about it more than not at all, that he wants her to feel safe around him before all else...
That right there? That's fucking progress, baby. And he couldn't be more proud of Vergil for making that jump on his own volition. He's genuinely smiling as he speaks.]
I won't lie, she's gonna want to give you an earful. But I'll talk to her first. Once she's spoken her mind she'll be as warm as ever. And oh my god, her cooking is so good...
[He's getting that gooey soft look in his eyes again. But it's not all directed at Kyrie this time. He looks genuinely put at ease by this conversational revelation, like the last of the foul mood he was in has been banished.
(It is slightly fucked up, he thinks, that he's going to have to talk his girlfriend down from being pissed at the father who ripped his fucking arm off. But in a "this sure is my family" kind of fucked up way that he's starting to get more used to.)]
She'll be happy our family has grown above everything else.
[It's strange to think that Vergil would ever possess a positive feeling towards being lectured, but oddly enough, he does. If she could feel comfortable enough to speak her mind to him like that, it would hopefully be a good sign of things to come even if Nero's prediction that she would be warmer afterward didn't come to immediate fruition. He smiles a little at the prospect without realizing he is as he sets his cup back down on the table.]
[At Nero's comment about the growth of their family, Vergil's smile does not fade, not exactly, but his gaze is momentarily a little more wistful. For so much of Vergil's life, he's really only ever known loss. First it was father, and then soon after his mother and brother. The only home he'd ever known. Beatrice was there for a time, but he was the one who denied himself that future out of his own fear and insecurities of being able to protect it. And in doing that, he unknowingly both lost her forever as well as his son. It was much the same with Dante in that he could not take his brother's hand, could not reconcile what he knew to be true with what Dante proposed. He lost the Yamato. He lost his memories, his very life. It is a wonder, frankly, that Vergil found any reason to carry on, to claw his way back to the human world and reclaim his blade after that much loss.]
[But somehow by the end of it, he found himself again. More than just the broken things that survived and carried on the day his mother died, but the whole of himself. He found his brother again. He found his son. And for all the aspects of this place that Vergil finds to be tedious and irritating, that sense of loss he might have felt at having to leave behind his son again because he knew he could not have him or that future unless he cleaned up the mess he created... He's managed to ultimately avoid that here. He's had time to get to know Nero, and realize there is a place for him in Nero's life after all. He's grown closer with his brother, too. The pair of them trying so hard to find another way beyond fighting to connect and understand one another, and these days only getting into petty squabbles with one another as siblings are wont to do. And he's found... Well, there's really little denying it anymore, is there? Even if it still feels impossible to say so directly, he's found love.]
[His smile fades then, although it's not the most serious of expressions that takes up residence when it does. It's more a calm neutrality that arises, the look that no doubt Nero has come to learn signals Vergil has something to say that is important, but is not something that should raise alarm or concern.]
On that note, there is something that I have been meaning to tell you for a while now. There just has not been...a good time to tell you until now.
[It certainly would not have been the time to say anything when Nero first arrived and there was so much they needed to sort through first. It also would not have done well for Vergil to make mention of it too soon after their conversation. Much of that needed to settle and simmer, and a routine of sorts needed to be found.]
[But Vergil has also been uncertain whether or not it was appropriate to tell Nero. He hasn't been concerned Nero would somehow be upset that Vergil was not pining after Beatrice. He loved her. Some part of him still loves her and always will. She was his first love, after all, and the mother to his child. There is nothing that could possibly remove her from his heart like that. But even if she were alive and within reach, Vergil would not presume to rekindle something with her. No doubt she would be a different person than she was back then and likely moved on a long time ago. He imagines the most they might be is friends if she could find it within her to forgive him for abandoning her in the first place. He also does not even particularly worry himself necessarily over Nero's opinion of Mizu. While he wouldn't necessarily categorize Mizu as one of Nero's favorite people, there does not appear to be contempt or disdain there. He's not opposed to her, at the very least. And beyond that, Vergil trusts that Mizu is no more interested in parenting Nero than Nero is interested in being parented by her.]
Mizu and I...
[No, the hold up on Vergil's part has been more on the words for what they are. He's avoided any such label for so long now. Even when they were just friends to one another, he always couched it in being sparring partners. As though their interest in one another or the camaraderie they were building was rooted solely in their ability and interest in fighting one another, and had not naturally blossomed into other things. It seemed better to him not to presume anything in calling Mizu a friend lest the feeling was not reciprocated and Vergil truly was a means to an end. Since their relationship evolved and their intimacy deepened...]
[Well, this is not something that will last beyond this world. At some point, Vergil will leave with his family, and Mizu will return to her world to seek her revenge. Words have power and weight, more than most give them credit for. Vergil does not believe he could withstand the weight of calling Mizu or what they have something only for it to be taken from him regardless of who bears responsibility for that loss.]
We are more than just friends to one another. We have been for a few months now.
[He's still thinking of Kyrie, but in a happier way than earlier. Imagining what it'll be like to have dinners with his whole family. How much Vergil is going to adore her when he gets to know her. He wonders if he'll comment on the similarities between Kyrie and Beatrice-- his Christmas gift from Vergil has been thoroughly studied as much as it has been treasured, and their resemblance didn't escape his notice. The "Type" must run in the family.
But speaking of that, Vergil changes the subject, and though Nero at first looks quite concerned by the graveness with which he says he needs to tell him something (force of habit, okay), it turns out to be... well. It's pretty surprising, actually.]
Like, you're dating?
[For a moment, Nero looks deeply, deeply puzzled by this information. Vergil? Is dating someone? He doesn't seem the type. Shit, he doesn't seem the type so much Nero remains kind of surprised he even exists. That's such a weird swerve that the fact Vergil is dating a guy kind of takes a huge second place, though that's surprising as well.
And then, perhaps frustratingly for how much difficulty Vergil had preparing for the topic, Nero shrugs.]
Cool. Good for you, I guess.
[He's restricted from saying more as a staff member arrives with his order-- an absolutely massive bowl of curry pork ramen, and gyoza on the side. He thanks the server and waits until they depart to crack out the chopsticks, or make any further comment.]
Did he swordfight you until you asked him out? Heh.
[Well, that's... It's not a terrible response by any stretch of the imagination, but Vergil didn't think it would be quite that subdued and nonchalant. Especially given the expression on Nero's face there for a moment as he processed the information. He anticipated there might be questions—some of which, Vergil knew he was in no way prepared to answer—or even a little bit of balking once the information truly settled. Instead, that was it. Really?]
[...Well, alright then. If that's it then there's no need for Vergil to try and illicit more. Especially not when it comes to the questions he doesn't even know where it begin in answering.]
[Vergil glances at the staff as they set the food down in front of Nero, and he's vaguely surprised it's only the one bowl of ramen regardless of the portion sizes here.]
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[Nero couldn't necessarily be faulted if he felt the question wasn't sincere. Most people probably would not ask and would make their safe assumptions about why Nero felt the whole affair has been, in his own words, stupid. But for better or worse, Vergil tries to err on the side of caution when it comes to assumptions pertaining to Nero as best he can.]
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[He stumbles over words. Lifts his forehead and then thumps it down again. Not only is it stupid, it's so stupid he can't really parse it into words.]
I'm not like this. I can fucking handle it when I struggle. I'm not a damn child.
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[The arm around Nero releases before the Yamato is tucked beneath Vergil's arm at his side. He nudges Nero to stand upright a little better, holding Nero's face in both of his hands.]
I know you are not a child, but you have also not been someone's son for any longer than I have been someone's father. So, if I may suggest it, you ought to try extending some of the same grace you have given me in that regard to yourself right now.
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He feels terribly vulnerable with his face between Vergil's hands, brought up to look him in the eye. The expression is something quite similar to worry, in fact.]
It's not you. It's me. [He's not sure why that's the very first thing he needs to say. But there it is.] It's stupid. It's not even a real problem.
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[Although there's a slight furrow in his brow, Vergil does not look at Nero with a critical eye right now.]
Nero, stop. Just listen to me. And before you respond, just take a moment with my words first. A real moment. Not in one ear and out the other.
[One of his hands moves down to Nero's shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.]
When I was a boy, all I ever wanted was to please my parents. Nothing made me happier when Mother told me I did something well, or Father said he was proud of me. But nothing made me feel angrier or more frustrated and disappointed in myself than when I felt I fell short of their expectations. Mother barely had to say or do anything for me to know I disappointed her, and I would be in an inconsolable fit of tears. All it took was a few words from Father and I would be stuck replaying them over and over in my head for days afterward. It did not matter to me if it was a mistake that could not have been prevented, or if my own expectations were simply unreasonable, or how foolish I felt for my outbursts later. My reaction was the same each time.
But what I did not understand then is that regardless of whether either of them were ever truly disappointed or I had simply imagined it, they did not think of my mistakes afterward. My mistakes never really mattered, and were never such devastating blows as I thought they were in how they thought of me or what they felt towards me.
[Much as the problem Nero's conjured for himself exists only in his head, so, too, did those problems only exist in Vergil's head. It's a habit Vergil knows he still carries, still becomes lost in once the tide of emotion arises even when a rational part of himself knows better. After all, the memories of his parents still remains colored by those old concerns and hurts even as much as he can recognize now how wrong he was. It's just simply not something that disappears overnight as much as Vergil wishes it could or would be.]
So, whatever outcome you have convinced yourself hangs in the balance, I am telling you that it does not. Whatever opinion you think I might have of you right now, I promise you I do not hold it. [He gives Nero's shoulder another squeeze.] You have nothing to prove to me, Nero. You could have landed absolutely no blows today, and I would not think of you any differently than I did before we sparred.
You are my son. And I will always be proud of you. What you do or do not do will never change that.
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He's had A Parent for all of a few months now, and didn't expect all the immediate, inborn longing for acknowledgment that would come with it. Though it's not a new feeling at all. Nero's felt it since he was little, when he would act on his best behavior for Sister Maria in particular, because it made her smile. Since he'd be obedient for Kyrie's parents whenever they visited. Since he sweat and bled and cried for Credo's approval, torn between how much he craved it and how much he hated falling in line, trying to sand off his edges to fit in with the other knights. The more time passes since his mentor's death, the more Nero wishes he was here so he could ask him if he ever could have made him happy. If he ever did. If it would have stopped him from falling in with Sanctus' plans and betraying Nero, then changing his mind and dying for it.
There's always been Kyrie, but she's always been his peer. He craved for the approval of an authority, an older man especially. But growing up without parents, without anyone but authority that only wanted him when he behaved and followed orders, that was the only way to receive it. What other way would anyone ever approve of him? What would otherwise stop them from rejecting him, too?
Now as plainly as if it was written on his shirt, Vergil's seen how desperately he's trying to prove himself to him, and told him that he does not need to. That he's proud of him. His father is proud of him, regardless of how he fights or what he does.
He can't even lift his fact again for a moment, eyes clenched shut, tears silently trailing down his cheeks.]
Nobody ever-- has been. Nobody wanted me to be me. Just to shut up and fight.
[He sniffles loudly.]
But Dante. And you...
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[He wonders if Nero knows just how different his life would have been had circumstances been so that Vergil would have had the courage to stay with his mother even if not in Fortuna. He knows there's likely been fantasies built up in his head of what it would have been to have two parents who loved him more than anything, but there are probably still yet some things he cannot fathom because it simply is impossible to know so intimately the things one has not experienced firsthand. But Vergil would like to think in those circumstances, where he had it within him to stay instead of running away as he had in reality, Nero would have been permitted to grow up without ever needing to pick up a sword. That he would have been allowed to pursue any number of passions long before learning to wield a blade or firing a gun. And even in the absence of that ideal, Vergil would hope that Nero would know his worth had either one of his parents if not both of them in his life. He did not need to prove anything to anyone because he was loved so tremendously beyond just the moment he was born and whatever time Beatrice was able to give him.]
If all I cared for was your strength and skill in battle, why would I ever watch those videos of those men beating one another senseless with chairs or dropping down on one another from ladders with you when you ask? Why would I see to it that your home here has a place where you can work on your projects at your leisure? Much less, why would I ever allow you to put me in that horrendous sweater on Christmas?
Frankly, if the sweater did not result in me renouncing you as my son, you should remain confident nothing will.
[He's joking a little by the end there with the commentary upon the matching Christmas sweaters to lighten some of the tension he knows Nero must be feeling, but the point is nonetheless a serious one. If all he was ever interested in was knowing his son's strength as a warrior, and it was that alone that sparked any interest in Nero, he wouldn't have wholeheartedly agreed to delay sparring with him like this, and instead taken the time to learn more of his interests and hobbies. Even as Vergil asks perhaps too many questions during the wrestling videos and he somewhat awkwardly just keeps himself out of the way when he pays a visit to Nero in the garage, he's present in those moments for the same reason he's willing to listen to songs that are far from the sort of music he enjoys and tries a sample of food when he's asked. They are things important to his son, and whether or not Vergil necessarily likes any of it or understands their appeal, it still helps him to understand and know Nero better. And it's worth whatever confusion or discomfort or awkwardness that might sometimes come along with it for the sake of knowing Nero because Nero shall always be worth it.]
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[That his father and uncle want him to be safe and happy. Sometimes, it's to an annoying level-- like Dante's bad habit of shoving Nero out of things that really ought to be his business, even for his own good. But that aside, neither of them have ever given him reason to believe he's only worth what strength he has as a fighter. Dante, certainly never. And Vergil... even his far more stern, less social, more combat-focused father has done nothing to suggest it. Not with any of his cognizant actions, anyway. It's not fair to hold Urizen against him, or to extrapolate assumptions about him into unwritten standards that Vergil himself has never tried to impose.
It's as Nero said. A problem he created himself, spun up from his own experiences, the damage he carries from his childhood. On some level he knows that, and yet... there is something incredibly powerful about hearing Vergil say it all explicitly.
He sniffles. Clenches his eyes shut when Vergil touches his face. So this is what it feels like to have your father wipe your tears away... even as part of him is embarrassed for it, another part marvels and treasures the opportunity. And he can't help but crack a smile when Vergil mentions the sweater, which he was inarguably a good sport about. And the wrestling. And all the other shit Nero's been putting him through out of powerful desire to find common ground, to build something solid with his father. The same desire that makes him panic when he feels inadequate at the one thing he does know they both share.
Nero shakes his head a little and reaches up to rub his own eyes with both hands. Building his composure back, little by little.]
I'm not good at believing that kind of stuff. But I'm trying to learn how to. [A swallow, and he peers at Vergil between his fingers. It's just as he said before.] New at this "son" thing, you know?
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[Perhaps he may believe Vergil's word more that he did well if he ends up sharing any of the training itself with Dante. He can't imagine his brother wouldn't praise Nero for getting in the dozen or so strikes he managed, knowing the difficulty Vergil poses with his speed alone. Nero ought to trust his opinion enough to know Dante isn't out to just inflate his ego, and Vergil was not merely saying as much in attempt to soothe a bruised ego.]
You've done well at it so far, [he says, transferring Yamato back to his hand.] Go on and collect your blade. If you're anything like your uncle, I imagine you've worked up an appetite by now.
Unless you'd like to just return home.
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The anger is fading, and he's left to deal with the embarrassment and shame it leaves behind. A ridiculous display by any definition. But he tries hard to apply that grace of his inward, treat it the way he did when Vergil flew off the handle that day they had their hard conversation. Firmly, but kindly: stop beating yourself up. Especially over things that nobody is going to hold against you.
Jeez. They really are father and son, huh...
Still, red-eyed and both physically and emotionally sore, he does look a little hangover-sulky yet as he heads over to pull Red Queen out of the ground.]
I'm starving. [And beat to hell. He really wants to sit down for like, half a day.] What are you thinking?
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As he straps Red Queen to his back, he thinks about it a moment.]
I want noodles. Like a big ol' honking bowl of noodle soup.
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[At his request for a large bowl of noodles, Vergil nods and draws Yamato once more to open a portal. He knows of a place in Epiphany. He's been there a handful of times with Mizu after a morning or afternoon in the library together before parting ways. If the portions lent themselves to Mizu not ordering several bowls, they should be enough for Nero. He waits until Nero joins him again before stepping through the portal and out the other side to the street in Epiphany.]
[The doorway to the shop is just a few steps down from the street itself, and left wide open even in the cooler temperatures of winter. Even standing on the street itself, the heat of the shop can be felt radiating outward. A wooden menu board sits outside just next to the entryway with a listing of the day's specials, pictures included. Vergil walks ahead of Nero, but stops at the entryway to raise the cloth banners hanging down with Yamato for Nero to duck inside first. The majority of seating inside is countertop, right in front of the kitchen area, but there are a few small tables scattered about the rest of the floor that can be moved around with chairs as needed for larger groups.]
Pick what you want, [Vergil says, nodding to the ticket machine near to the entrance with the entirety of the menu available, including appetizers, beverages, and dessert.] Take the ticket to the counter, pay, and have a seat wherever you like.
[Normally, Vergil would be willing to pay for whatever Nero wanted and one look at the prices on the ticket machine would indicate this isn't a particularly expensive menu. But his funds are a little depleted after the holiday, and while he would not necessarily admit such a thing aloud... Vergil is willing to allow mild implication by not making any offer to pay.]
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The shop is nice and warm inside, and it's gonna feel good to sit and drink something hot. He does give Vergil a bit of a side-eye at telling Nero to pay. Normally he's jumping to be the one to pay, but it is a little funny to suggest going out and have Nero cover his own ticket.
No big deal. He can afford it.]
You sit. Do you want anything?
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Jasmine tea is fine... [he says, walking away to sit at one of the tables.]
[He would just ask for water alone considering it's the only item on the menu that doesn't cost anything, but Vergil knows he's not going to be allowed to walk away if he simply declines altogether or tries for something like that. So, an inexpensive tea it is.]
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At least because he's paying, Nero feels no guilt getting exactly what looks good. After some time up at the ticket machine, he pays the clerk and then comes over to sit across from Vergil. His eyes are a little red still, but he looks moderately less glum than earlier. In this lighting it's a little easier to see how scuffed-up he is, though, and there's the unmistakable ginger movements of someone trying to avoid aggravating an injury.
A staff member drops off two waters, and two cups of jasmine tea. Look, Vergil. Nero even takes a sip before he starts looking around for sugar, only relenting when he realizes there isn't any.
Then he kind of just stares at Vergil, not having a clue what to say, to the point he lets out a brief sigh and attempts to fix his no-doubt mussed up hair. Damn. When you really don't want to talk about something, but also it's the only thing on your mind...]
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[Vergil sips at his own tea idly in their silence. He's not looking at Nero, instead watching the movement in the kitchen from their position, but he can feel his son's eyes on him. Glancing at him as he's fixing his hair, Vergil wonders if perhaps he's looking for him to make conversation. Surely not. He knows Vergil is terrible at it generally speaking, and is always far more comfortable with following another's lead. But the silence stretches on after Nero's quiet sigh.]
[Alright, let's see...]
[He idly drums a finger against his cup of tea as he mulls over the possibilities. Anything pertaining to their training session is off-limits as far as Vergil is concerned. Too tricky of a minefield with Nero only just coming down from the height of his emotion. He could mention how and why he knows this place, but that's irrelevant and if Nero cared, he would have asked already. He could ask what Nero ordered for himself, but that's not likely going to lead to much by way of conversation either. Perhaps his plans for the rest of the day? No... But maybe...?]
You've been here for a while now in Folkmore. Do you feel you're settling in?
[Vergil knows Nero has been trying to explore different parts of Folkmore every now and again. He imagines by now he has found places he enjoys and possibly made himself some acquaintances at the very least if not friends.]
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He's expecting to just weather the silence until he comes up with something good to talk about, but is pleasantly surprised when Vergil actually comes up with one first.]
Yeah. I guess so. I don't think it'll ever stop being weird, but...
[Another sigh as he picks up his tea. The heat feels nice even if he doesn't super enjoy the taste.]
I've been thinking about Kyrie lately. I mean, I always think about her, but...
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[It does seem somewhat cruel for the Fox to have not also brought her here with Nero. Much as Vergil thought it cruel for her to have waited so long in bringing Dante here. The again, Kyrie may just simply possess more sense than any of them, and not followed after a fox spirit as they had.]
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He offers a weak little crack of a smile.] Not that I would trade getting to be with you and Dante for her, but... I've never been away from her this long in our whole lives. It's hard. I just hope she really isn't worried about me. Or doesn't even notice I'm gone, however that works.
[Kyrie possesses 1000% more sense than all three of them put together.]
I can't wait for you to meet her.
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I would like to meet her, [he says with a small nod, not bothering with elaborating on the reasons why when Nero knows them well enough all in his own. Instead, he adds with a glance away from Nero,] When she is ready to meet me.
[They haven't spoken about it since that conversation on the balcony of Vergil's old apartment. It's not something that Vergil particularly dwells upon either. Not all that often, anyways. But he remembers what Nero said about that day Vergil attacked him in the garage and made off with his arm. Kyrie had been there, and seen the aftermath.]
[His glance away is not out of self-pity though, or even necessarily out of shame. He would not fault her if it took some time for her to feel comfortable enough to meet him regardless of whatever reassurance Nero offered or how much she trusted his judgment. Vergil would not force the matter any more than he has been or would be interested in forcing a relationship between Nero and himself. But it is an uncomfortable thing no matter what in knowing that the first impression that young woman has of Vergil is what it is even if it is simply the consequences of his choices. So, it is merely a brief glance away. Nothing prolonged or terrible.]
...I suppose I would like the opportunity to apologize to her as well. Even if not a direct apology then at least to provide her with less reason to worry or be fearful of me.
[It's normally not the sort of thing that he would admit aloud to anyone, but he feels it's important enough to swallow his pride and acknowledge it to Nero even if no one else. Then Nero will know that even if Vergil had not responded to Nero's words well that day, in the moment when they were said, he heard the entirety of what he said and not just the part meant to settle Vergil well enough to hear the primary point of wanting to trust him. Even if he does not dwell upon it much, Vergil's had more time to think on the repercussions of his actions beyond the immediate and the obvious. And he knows he wronged Kyrie and Nico as well in what he did that day, just in a far less direct manner.]
[He takes another sip of his tea.]
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After all, the direct harm was done to Nero, but he passed out so fast he barely had time to be register what happened, much less be frightened. Kyrie (and Nico, too) had to find him facedown in a pool of his own blood, tourniquet his arm, get him to the hospital, and spend over a week terrified he was going to die. That Vergil considers that, that he's thought about it more than not at all, that he wants her to feel safe around him before all else...
That right there? That's fucking progress, baby. And he couldn't be more proud of Vergil for making that jump on his own volition. He's genuinely smiling as he speaks.]
I won't lie, she's gonna want to give you an earful. But I'll talk to her first. Once she's spoken her mind she'll be as warm as ever. And oh my god, her cooking is so good...
[He's getting that gooey soft look in his eyes again. But it's not all directed at Kyrie this time. He looks genuinely put at ease by this conversational revelation, like the last of the foul mood he was in has been banished.
(It is slightly fucked up, he thinks, that he's going to have to talk his girlfriend down from being pissed at the father who ripped his fucking arm off. But in a "this sure is my family" kind of fucked up way that he's starting to get more used to.)]
She'll be happy our family has grown above everything else.
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[At Nero's comment about the growth of their family, Vergil's smile does not fade, not exactly, but his gaze is momentarily a little more wistful. For so much of Vergil's life, he's really only ever known loss. First it was father, and then soon after his mother and brother. The only home he'd ever known. Beatrice was there for a time, but he was the one who denied himself that future out of his own fear and insecurities of being able to protect it. And in doing that, he unknowingly both lost her forever as well as his son. It was much the same with Dante in that he could not take his brother's hand, could not reconcile what he knew to be true with what Dante proposed. He lost the Yamato. He lost his memories, his very life. It is a wonder, frankly, that Vergil found any reason to carry on, to claw his way back to the human world and reclaim his blade after that much loss.]
[But somehow by the end of it, he found himself again. More than just the broken things that survived and carried on the day his mother died, but the whole of himself. He found his brother again. He found his son. And for all the aspects of this place that Vergil finds to be tedious and irritating, that sense of loss he might have felt at having to leave behind his son again because he knew he could not have him or that future unless he cleaned up the mess he created... He's managed to ultimately avoid that here. He's had time to get to know Nero, and realize there is a place for him in Nero's life after all. He's grown closer with his brother, too. The pair of them trying so hard to find another way beyond fighting to connect and understand one another, and these days only getting into petty squabbles with one another as siblings are wont to do. And he's found... Well, there's really little denying it anymore, is there? Even if it still feels impossible to say so directly, he's found love.]
[His smile fades then, although it's not the most serious of expressions that takes up residence when it does. It's more a calm neutrality that arises, the look that no doubt Nero has come to learn signals Vergil has something to say that is important, but is not something that should raise alarm or concern.]
On that note, there is something that I have been meaning to tell you for a while now. There just has not been...a good time to tell you until now.
[It certainly would not have been the time to say anything when Nero first arrived and there was so much they needed to sort through first. It also would not have done well for Vergil to make mention of it too soon after their conversation. Much of that needed to settle and simmer, and a routine of sorts needed to be found.]
[But Vergil has also been uncertain whether or not it was appropriate to tell Nero. He hasn't been concerned Nero would somehow be upset that Vergil was not pining after Beatrice. He loved her. Some part of him still loves her and always will. She was his first love, after all, and the mother to his child. There is nothing that could possibly remove her from his heart like that. But even if she were alive and within reach, Vergil would not presume to rekindle something with her. No doubt she would be a different person than she was back then and likely moved on a long time ago. He imagines the most they might be is friends if she could find it within her to forgive him for abandoning her in the first place. He also does not even particularly worry himself necessarily over Nero's opinion of Mizu. While he wouldn't necessarily categorize Mizu as one of Nero's favorite people, there does not appear to be contempt or disdain there. He's not opposed to her, at the very least. And beyond that, Vergil trusts that Mizu is no more interested in parenting Nero than Nero is interested in being parented by her.]
Mizu and I...
[No, the hold up on Vergil's part has been more on the words for what they are. He's avoided any such label for so long now. Even when they were just friends to one another, he always couched it in being sparring partners. As though their interest in one another or the camaraderie they were building was rooted solely in their ability and interest in fighting one another, and had not naturally blossomed into other things. It seemed better to him not to presume anything in calling Mizu a friend lest the feeling was not reciprocated and Vergil truly was a means to an end. Since their relationship evolved and their intimacy deepened...]
[Well, this is not something that will last beyond this world. At some point, Vergil will leave with his family, and Mizu will return to her world to seek her revenge. Words have power and weight, more than most give them credit for. Vergil does not believe he could withstand the weight of calling Mizu or what they have something only for it to be taken from him regardless of who bears responsibility for that loss.]
We are more than just friends to one another. We have been for a few months now.
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But speaking of that, Vergil changes the subject, and though Nero at first looks quite concerned by the graveness with which he says he needs to tell him something (force of habit, okay), it turns out to be... well. It's pretty surprising, actually.]
Like, you're dating?
[For a moment, Nero looks deeply, deeply puzzled by this information. Vergil? Is dating someone? He doesn't seem the type. Shit, he doesn't seem the type so much Nero remains kind of surprised he even exists. That's such a weird swerve that the fact Vergil is dating a guy kind of takes a huge second place, though that's surprising as well.
And then, perhaps frustratingly for how much difficulty Vergil had preparing for the topic, Nero shrugs.]
Cool. Good for you, I guess.
[He's restricted from saying more as a staff member arrives with his order-- an absolutely massive bowl of curry pork ramen, and gyoza on the side. He thanks the server and waits until they depart to crack out the chopsticks, or make any further comment.]
Did he swordfight you until you asked him out? Heh.
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[...Well, alright then. If that's it then there's no need for Vergil to try and illicit more. Especially not when it comes to the questions he doesn't even know where it begin in answering.]
[Vergil glances at the staff as they set the food down in front of Nero, and he's vaguely surprised it's only the one bowl of ramen regardless of the portion sizes here.]
[His nose wrinkles at Nero's question.]
No...
[...Maybe a little.]
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