Fan Fiction ❯ Brother Never Cry ❯ Chapter One: Illusion of a Calmer Life ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Brother Never Cry
Summary: An account of how Vergil was led into darkness and how Dante came to set up Devil May Cry. Set one year before DMC 3.
A Word From The Author: This was previously posted on, but, well, I kinda wanted to expand my circle of readers. I'd like to feel that this is quality work and I've put real effort into it, but only you readers can confirm that. So please comment. Every little criticism helps improve this fic.
Disclaimer: I have absolutely no claim to any of the canon characters i.e. Eva, Sparda, Dante, and Vergil, who all belong to Capcom. I am not making money off this fic.
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Chapter One: Illusion Of A Calmer Life
It was one of those gray, sullen mornings that hinted at rain, yet refused to yield, giving rise to unbearably stuffy afternoons where the passers-by yanked at their collars and cursed the weather. Fingers of sunlight weakly clawed their way out through the thick mass of clouds simmering ominously in the sky to reach, pale and tentative, through the open window of the Sparda home, a modest two-story brownstone, and it is here our story begins.
The twins were nineteen that year, and happy. High school was nearly behind them, and university beckoned to them with its bright future. So what if demon blood flowed in their veins? This was a world their father had created for them, a world they intended to fully appreciate. This was a sentiment their mother shared. At night the dreams of demon domination still haunted her sometimes, and the normalcy—though, of course, they themselves were far from normal—was something she relished.
Dante and Vergil were in the kitchen. Both were strikingly similar, with the tall stature, white hair and pale blue eyes of their father. But the similarity ended there. The twins, speaking in terms of personality, were different as night and day. Where Vergil was a neat, even obsessive freak, Dante was not. His room looked like a nuclear disaster. Vergil was serious, even formal, while Dante was easy-going and brash. Yet, for all that, they were close. The blood of brothers ran deep.
Dante was leaning back in his chair, his booted feet propped up on the battered surface, slurping at a glass of orange juice. He would have preferred beer, but Eva's stern admonition of `no alcohol in the house!' had quailed even the younger twin. He was wearing a dark red shirt, open at the neck, and dark trousers, while his brother, seated opposite, was clad in a long-sleeved collared blue shirt and loose-fitting navy blue pants. He was apparently engrossed in a book, but as Dante finished off his drink with an obnoxious burp, he shoved over a few letters to the other side of the table.
“For you,” he said, raising a sardonic eyebrow. “When are you ever going to settle on one?”
Dante glanced over, saw the official logos on the envelopes, and grimaced. “Chill, big brother. There's still plenty of time.” He could be studious when he wanted to, and he had gotten surprisingly good results. He had yet to pick a university, though. Vergil got the feeling that it wasn't because of indecision so much as something else. His suspicion was confirmed a second later as Dante slammed his feet back down on the floor and assumed his standard thinking expression; chin propped on hands, lower lip chewing.
“You saw that newspaper article yesterday, bro?” he asked suddenly. Vergil nodded; how could he not have noticed? Mysterious murder, page one, victim torn apart in back alley. It all screamed DEMON in block letters. Even after their father had sealed the gate to the demon world, there were still some low-ranking demons hiding around, preying on the weak and unfortunate in a struggle to survive in a newly human dominated world.
“They're like pests,” Dante continued restlessly. “They breed like houseflies. If someone doesn't do something about the demon situation, it's going to be a lot worse, and those humans out there? They'll shove you into a loony bin if you so much as suggest the existence of an ET. They don't believe, Verg, and that's the problem. Perfect for these demons.”
“And you are going to do something about it?” Vergil inquired, more than a little sarcastic.
Dante cocked an eyebrow. “Sure, why the hell not?” He grinned wildly as Vergil stared at him over the top of his book. “It'll be a lot more fun than studying.”
“My brother, the selfless hero.” Vergil shook his head. “I don't see why you bother. The humans are pretty much killing themselves off already.”
“I'm not arguing with you.” Dante said. “But Father would have wanted us to do this.”
“Suit yourself,” Vergil tossed back. He stood up. “I plan on graduating with honors and a degree. You can go demon hunting all you want.”
Dante looked disappointed. “Aw, bro. I was hoping you would want to set up shop with me.”
Vergil gave him a level stare, and after a while, Dante laughed and shook his head. “Okay, I guess not. You've gotta do what you wanna do.” He unfolded his legs and stretched. “I'm going to chill out at the park. You coming with?”
His brother, one leg already outside the kitchen, poked his face back inside for an instant to say, “No, I'm busy,” before disappearing. Dante shrugged, unruffled, and reached for the keys. As he did, his gaze went to the newspaper that still lay discarded on the counter. The first page featured a grainy black and white photo of a dead girl. Not just dead, but torn apart, literally. His normally amused expression, that said that he felt the world was just one huge joke and was dying to laugh at it, faded for a moment to become altogether more serious, somber, a face that would have startled the hell out of his closest friends.
Then, with another shrug, Dante put the glass in the sink, pulled on his windbreaker, draped over the back of his chair, and strode out of the house. He had things to do.
Yet he couldn't get that picture, and a dozen other pictures like it, of the murders that had fired off a panic attack, out of his mind.
He just couldn't.
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