A Futile Second Chance

[Dante's Stalker]

Baby Year 2/2

Enji was getting to be a handful when he became mobile. Dante would put him down on his play mat and head over to the bar to grab a cold one, and when he'd turn back Enji would have rolled underneath the table and sent Dante into a frenzy trying to find him. He wouldn't admit it, because he didn't want to be seen as a softy, but he'd become very protective of the little guy after that first episode when they'd been alone. Enji needed protecting, he needed somebody who could kick demon ass – and kicking demon ass was what Dante did best.

Fathering a baby, maybe not so much. The handbooks of child rearing were still brand new and untouched on the shelf simply because he couldn't be bored enough to read them. Dante didn't know what the hell the kid was crying for half the time, and he decided that nothing in those books could really prepare him for what he was being put through anyway. Feeding Enji incorporated tricks and improvised tactics – Dante never would have guessed feeding a fussy baby could be so mind-blowing stimulating. No one warned him about damage control either – there were tiny marks on the legs of his desk where Enji had decided to unleash his wrath of teething.

He had to grow eyes on the back of his head somehow. Keeping Enji safe from demons was a piece of a cake. Keeping Enji safe from Enji was a whole different story. Even with three more pairs of eyes in the store, the baby still miraculously found ways to make anyone's hair stand on end.

Dante was rummaging through a desk drawer to find his deck of poker cards on Patty's request. Nero was scrounging the cupboards for something to drink while Kyrie went in search of clean cups, and Patty was unpacking poker chips on the low table by the couch. Enji was under his play gym – or he was supposed to be.

Dante's head snapped up when Kyrie dropped a cup with a terrified gasp. "No... Enji, put that down!"

Dante followed her gaze, and felt his blood turn to ice. He nearly knocked his desk over in his rush, and had the palm of his hand separating Enji's nose from the black barrel of Ebony a fraction of a second before a loud shot screamed through the store. Dante clenched his teeth, heart racing unpleasantly hard in his chest, and withdrew the pistol from the chubby little hands. Enji's round blue eyes filled with tears and he stared back at Dante almost accusingly.

Dante released the barrel, and shook his hand hard. Blood scattered on the floor, and a bullet dropped to the wood with a small 'cling'. Dante picked it up, barely glancing at the gaping wound in his hand, and turned startled eyes on the others. Everyone was staring at him. Patty didn't move from her seat on the couch, but Kyrie darted forward and scooped Enji into her arms, away from him.

Nobody said anything. They didn't have to. Guilt burned through Dante while he watched Kyrie distract an upset and confused Enji with a soft soccer ball. ****. That was way too close – and far too negligent. Enji couldn't walk yet, but Dante knew he should have known better. Nobody in their right mind would leave arsenal lying about with kids around. It was careless, he berated himself.

The store got a thorough baby-proofing that same day. Not on anyone's request, but on Dante's own initiative. It was unlike Dante to try fix anything himself – he usually just let things die until somebody else did the dirty work for him – and when Nero offered to help out, Dante didn't decline. Even after the store was completely revamped into a safety zone; there were padded sponges strapped to the sharp edges of tables and chairs, all wall sockets were covered with plastic, even the walls were padded with cot bumpers, and Dante's weapons were securely put away in a location Enji wouldn't be able to reach for years to come; Dante was still shaken by the whole incident.

He didn't let Enji from his sight until the following morning, when he put the baby in his playpen in the bedroom and raced for the chance to take a shower. Dante's senses were on high alert all the while, waiting to pick up on the slightest hint of demonic presence outside the closed bathroom door. He was so intent on that, that he didn't realize Enji had gone suspiciously quiet at first. Dante threw on a pair of pants and was pulling a shirt over his head when he stepped back into the bedroom.

The first thing that hit him was the smell. His eyes widened in horror at the scene before him, and angry frustration throbbed through him. "No...Enji, oh, no, no, no." Dante shouted, hands pulling through his frost blonde hair in genuine agitation. "Sh!t!"

~...~

Devil May Cry was quiet when Trish opened the door. It was routine by now, stopping by every couple of days for the past few months to stock up on whatever necessities Enji might have. And, of course, to check if Dante still had all his pigs in the sty. He wasn't too bad for a first time dad.

Trish had found it quite amusing when she'd walk in and find Dante passed out on the couch, obviously with another rough night behind him, empty beer bottle in hand – and Enji fast asleep on his chest, his baby bottle still in mouth, dribbling milk all over Dante's shirt. Birds of a feather, in her eyes.

The cool fans were a relief from the scorching heat of day outside. Armed with bags of disposable nappies, she was geared up to take on the job of cleaning Enji. Dante had tried a couple of times, but declined nappy-duty forever when his efforts were once rewarded by a urine soaked shirt. Trish didn't mind that much. In her opinion, Dante would come around sooner or later and stop his constant whining. It was good that he had something other than devil hunting to fall back on for a change.

Dante was nowhere to be seen, and the shop reeked more than usual. It also seemed to have undergone some kind of redecoration. Trish eyed the padded walls for a curious moment. A jab of worry shot through her. Dante was usually waiting right inside the door for her, to shove Enji into her arms and make a break for it. Where was he?

Trish glided up the stairs to the bedroom. Worry churned into fear when she saw no one and heard nothing. The bedroom itself was a complete mess – a bucket of murky water stood to one side, a damp mop fallen over beside it, and toys and bedding were stuffed into a black garbage bag.

"Dante?" Trish called out, leaning on the railing outside the door and scanning the shop with feverish eyes. He didn't try to take Enji out to the park again, did he? Not in this heat. "Enji!" Trish cried out. If anyone would respond to her, it would be Enji. And he did.
She heard his mumbled response from the bathroom. She strolled over, slid the door open, and stared in bewildered surprise.

Dante glanced up at her with narrowed, cool blue eyes that warned her to just shut up. He was livid. Beside him, inside the bathtub, a naked Enji was lying on his tummy. He let out a little chortle of pleasure every few moments. Trish looked from the shower rod Dante was aiming over the baby, the water beating down softly on the little back, to Dante's broody expression, to the room behind her, and back.

"What happened?" Trish finally asked when Dante turned off the water and pulled a wriggling Enji into a fluffy blue towel.

"He sh*ts more than I do." Dante huffed in curt response.

"Okay." Trish said uncertainly. "Did you try to change him?"

"No." Dante said. "He did. And then he decided to paint the ****ing walls with it, too."

Trish couldn't help it. She let out a giggle, and smiled when Dante glared up at her. "Well, you never know, he might be a Picasso in the making."

"He needs to find a different creative outlet." Dante grumbled, and looked down when Enji grabbed hold of his ear. "You little brat. Next time I'll shove your face in it and make you eat it all up."

Enji chuckled in response and smacked his little hands into Dante's cheeks, not so lightly, and planted a wet open mouth right on his nose. Trish watched them for a moment, and sighed.

"I'll take out the trash and air out the place." She said. She paused at Dante's quiet, frustrated grunt. "He really does love you, you know."

Dante blinked at her, and arched his eyebrows down at Enji. "He sure has a funny way of showing it."

 

[DreadnoughtDT]

Wow... I have to admit, I loled at that last paragraph in Baby Years 1/3. The thought of that is just hilarious.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Sentiments 1/3

Dante swung Rebellion over his shoulder with careless ease, circling the enormous crab-like demon with deliberate, lazy steps. He considered the monstrosity; its position, its battered appearance, its size – but then size didn't matter when it had hellish wrath driving it. From what Dante could tell, this demon was seriously ****ed off, and just as stupid. The blows he'd dealt it before were in target areas. It was weakening by the second.

Dante stalled it a few more moments for an easy kill. "Now is the time to crawl back under the rock you came from, or end up crab-fry. It's your choice."

"You will pay for your impudence, fool!" The demon gritted out, and launched itself with all dozen legs extended. It stopped short an arm's length from the calm and unflinching devil hunter. Beady crimson eyes blinked, stunned, and dropped out of its sockets to swoop down and stare at the enormous blade stuck right through its armoured chest.

"You..." The demon hissed. "...I know you... you smell of treachery... you are the son of..."

Dante pursed his lips and kicked the demon away, wrenching his sword out at the same time. "I've heard that line one time too many." Dante muttered, giving Rebellion a forceful swing through the air to shake the blood off the blade.
He scanned his surroundings for any more demons, but there was nothing but the quiet lake and deserted fields. He turned and started back toward the lonely highway. The demon exploded into ash behind him a second later, the odd and somewhat disturbing 'pop' echoing briefly through the dark.

Dante inspected the damage he'd picked up during his fight once he was under the golden light of a street lamp. His coat looked like somebody had let a crazed kid with scissors lose on it. "Damn it."
He mounted his bike and headed home, his thoughts dancing around the numbers winking in his head. Two million dollars will be staring back at him by tomorrow morning. He could do with that money. Pay off his pizza tab, shove a good sum of it in Lady's face and kick her the hell out of his shop when she showed up again, maybe even take his jukebox in to have professionals restore the vintage beauty. Who knows, maybe he'd even get a car.

Dante arrived at the Devil May Cry and sat on his bike for a moment to shrug off his ruined coat. He stared down at the torn red leather, and licked his lips in dismay. Reality check. He'd have to get this fixed first, or replaced. And he probably wouldn't pay off his tab, because he never seemed to get around to it when he did have the cash. As for paying his debt to Lady – not gonna happen. He'd be a downright idiot if he let her know he had a penny behind his name. She'd take it all. Damn woman.

Dante stepped into the store and closed the door quietly behind him. Kyrie was sitting on the soft furry carpet in front of the television and glanced up when she heard him come in. Nero was sprawled on a couch, arm slumped across his face, snoring lightly. Enji was lying on his stomach beside Kyrie, dressed in his motorbike-print pyjamas, trying to munch on a big yellow ball with his gums.

"Tough day?" Kyrie asked softly when Dante tossed the torn coat over the back of the other couch. She'd learnt, eventually, not to fuss when Dante got home all bloody and wounded. Not that it could be easy for her. From what Dante could tell, she was a very caring person, and it went against her instincts to sit back and do nothing when somebody was in discomfort. But Dante wasn't all that welcoming to people wanting to baby him.

Dante sank down on the couch and started to kick off his boots. "Nah, just a crabby one."

"Oh." Kyrie said. There was an awkward pause. Then she pulled Enji to his feet. "Look who's home, Enji."

The tiny toddler stood uncertainly when Kyrie faced him toward Dante. Then, with a brilliant smile that lit up his chubby little face, he extended his arms toward the devil hunter with a squeal. Enji waddled over to him, with the precariousness of one who'd had one too many drinks .

"When did he start walking?" Dante asked, glancing from the unsteady toddler to Kyrie's beaming face.

"Today." Kyrie said with a confused frown.

"Oh." Dante said, and scratched the back of his head when Enji reached him safely.
He would admit that Enji's development had flown over his head these past few months, if it didn't mean that he'd provoke Kyrie into one of her long boring lectures about cherishing every moment. Dante had been concentrating more on keeping the immediate region demon-free than paying attention to the toddler's growth – it was beyond ****ing funny just how many demons wanted the kid dead. He ruffled the blonde head guiltily. "First crawling, now walking? Next step up, you'll be kicking ass with me."

"Dante." Kyrie chided sharply. "We've talked about your choice of words around Enji."

"We have?" Dante asked, and blinked irately when Kyrie opened her mouth to fire off on him. "Hey, look. My house, my rules," Dante said, jerking a thumb at himself. "I'm king here. Deal with it, babe."

Kyrie closed her mouth and narrowed her gaze at him. "I won't let you corrupt his vocabulary."

"There's nothing wrong with the way I talk," Dante huffed, slouching back into the couch, and added a very heart-felt, "Damn it!"

"I think it's time we go." Nero mumbled from the other couch. He was watching them with sleep encrusted eyes, and from his expression it was clear he didn't like the way Dante contested Kyrie.

"You're right." Kyrie said flatly, and wrapped Enji into a warm, motherly hug. "You be a good boy, Enji. We'll see you tomorrow for your special day."

Enji clung to Kyrie with a wail of protest when she tried to straighten to her feet. Nero tiredly got up from the couch, and gave Enji a look that very simply portrayed that he'd had more than his fair share of dealing with the toddler's tiring demands all day.

"You want to come home with us, Enji?" Nero asked in a harsh tone of voice that hung between impatience and anger. "Because we won't bring you back to Dante if you do."

Enji's eyes turned into blue saucers, and then he was struggling in Kyrie's arms, reaching for Dante frantically. Kyrie planted a kiss against his cheek before carefully putting him down on the floor beside the couch.

"Call if you need anything." Kyrie said emotionlessly to Dante.

"Whatever." Dante muttered, flipping through the channels on TV. He paused to watch Kyrie march out of the store, and sent a rumpled look at Nero. "You still here?"

"Does the word chivalry mean anything to you?" Nero snarled back.

"Don't start with me, kid. I've had a long day." Dante said.

"You've had a long day?" Nero exploded, and Dante flinched, snatching Enji up into his arms when Nero's devil bringer brimmed sharply and Yamato appeared in his grasp. Nero raised the katana an inch, gave Enji's innocent stare one look, and stepped away.

"You've had a long day." Nero repeated, shaking his head and strolling toward the door. "Guy doesn't know what the hell he's talking about..." The door slammed shut behind him, cutting off the rest of his grumbling.

"Ass-wipe." Dante breathed, putting Enji back down on the carpet before stretching out on the couch. He turned his attention back to the TV and suppressed a yawn. He ought to go get cleaned up, he reeked of demon gore, but he couldn't be bothered right then. Enji pulled himself to his feet beside him, and clapped his hands together clumsily.

"Ashwi!" Enji squealed.

"That's nice, kid." Dante said absent-mindedly. He blinked. Looked at Enji. "What did you say?"

"Ashwide!" Enji tried again, and chortled at Dante's alarmed expression.

"Enji, what the hell?" Dante said, casting a cautious glance at the door. "Kyrie is going to kill you."

"Killu." Enji repeated.

"****," Dante sat up and ran a tired hand down his face. "It's way past your bedtime, kiddo. Let's get you down."

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Wow... I have to admit, I loled at that last paragraph in Baby Years 1/3. The thought of that is just hilarious.

I'm evil, aren't I? ^_^

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Sentiments 2/3

~...~

He knew what time it was by instinct when he woke up the next morning. His internal clock was set to kick him out of dreamland at roughly the same time every day, because he could no longer make use of an actual alarm clock. These few small hours of the morning was the only time he had to himself anymore. Cold shower to wake himself up, scavenge the fridge for breakfast, give his arsenal a good one over – his preparation for the day before Trish showed up and Enji finally got up.

It all seemed fairly simple and easy, but it wasn't. Dante stirred underneath the covers, and started to lift himself off the bed with his arms. He got halfway before dropping tiredly back down. He pinched his eyes closed and let out a grumpy moan into the downy softness of his pillow. There was a soft sound beside him. Dante had Coyote-A loaded and aimed in the general direction of the sound before he mustered the energy to lift his head and look at the source.

Trish was hovering over him with her hands placed on her slim hips. He should have known it was her – nobody could sneak up on him and catch him off guard like she could. Dante sent a weary glance at the cup on the bedside table, the strong aroma of caffeine filling the room, and lowered his gun before scowling up at Trish.

"What do you want?"

The look on Trish's face told him that he was in seriously deep ****. He wrecked his mind to try think what he could have done to **** her off this time. He scrambled out of bed, aiming the gun at her again.

"Please tell me you're joking." Trish hissed back at him angrily.

"What?" Dante growled, confused.

"Get ready and be downstairs in five minutes or I'll come back up here and fetch you." Trish said quietly, and sent a glance at Enji's cot before glaring at Dante. "And you do not want me to come fetch you."

Dante watched her glide from his room, and pulled on his usual attire. He'd have to skip his shower this morning. Damn it. He downed the coffee, ignoring the drops he messed on his sheets. He started downstairs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and his pace slowed halfway down when he saw the occupants of his store.

Nina and Trish were leaning over a book on his desk, and Patty was killing his store with red and blue balloons. Dante trailed over to his desk and sank down in his chair. He stared at the book they were poring over. Glanced at the balloons, and spotted the group of wrapped presents carefully placed on the pool table.

"What do you think, Dante?" Nina asked, tapping her finger on the photos in the book. "Power Rangers or Biker Mice from Mars for Enji's cake?"

"Uh..." Dante said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Power Rangers, I guess."

"Okay. I'll head down to the baker." Nina said, snatching the book up and headed for the door.

Trish turned to Dante with a disbelieving look. "You forgot, didn't you?"

"Enji's birthday?" Dante shrugged and leaned back in the chair, daunted. "Yeah."

Trish shook her head at him and walked away to help Patty decorate the place. Dante watched them work together, his gaze straying to Trish a lot, watching her smile and put effort into what she was doing. It brought back painfully sweet memories of times so far back in his past that he sometimes questioned whether they were real or not.

Dante jolted out of his chair and strolled from the store. It was a beautiful, clear morning with the promise of an equally beautiful day ahead. He caught up with Nina down the street.

"Could you make it a chocolate cake?" Dante asked, falling in stride beside her.

Nina looked up at him in surprise, and smiled warmly. "Sure."

Dante made a curt nod at her response, and changed his course. He felt very weird on his walk to the diner. He slipped into his chosen booth, and gazed out the window at the bright sky.

"Hiya, Dante," a familiar, cheerful voice made him turn. Cindy chomped down on her gum, and flashed him a broad smile. The pink striped uniform she wore looked smaller – she'd slimmed down. "The usual?"

"Yeah." Dante said.

"Having a bad day?" Cindy asked, arching her eyebrows at him, her smile dimming slightly.

"Every day is the same." Dante said, and waved her away. "Make it a jumbo sundae."

"One jumbo sundae, with extra strawberries, coming right up," Cindy said, and rolled away.

Dante watched her retreating for a second, glanced out the window at the sunny morning, and stared down at the table in front of him. Talk about ****ing creepy. He suppressed the foreboding sensations shifting inside of him. It was just coincidence. There were probably millions of people celebrating their birthdays on this day.

His sundae arrived, and Dante dug his spoon into the white mound of ice cream. He lifted the heap, observed it for an unnerved moment. He glanced out the window again. It was good weather – it was different to all the years before when he'd come in here, drenched from a cold rain on this very day. It had to be a good omen of some kind. Maybe Enji was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Still, it was undeniably creepy. Dante sighed.

"Happy birthday, brother," Dante mumbled, and shoved the spoon into his mouth. His mind dwindled on Vergil for a short while before his thoughts took a different course. What was he going to get for Enji? What could you get for a one year old that they would appreciate and not destroy? He had two million dollars in the bank, so money was not an issue.

He was still worrying over the matter on his way back home when his eye happened to catch on a large array of toys in the display window of a kid's store. Dante paused, eyed the store for a second, and went inside. He reappeared a long while later with two enormous bags bulging with toys, and struggled his way back to Devil May Cry.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Sentiments 3/3

He didn't realize how long he'd been out until he stepped into his store to find that everybody was already there. Everybody – even that c0cky teleporting punk was there. Dante glanced from the party food spread out on his desk, to the single slice of cake left, to the dirty dishes Trish was collecting. His gaze fixed on the torn wrapping paper Kyrie and Patty were shoving into a garbage bag, and the new toys scattered on the floor. The faintly guilty looks from Patty and Kyrie fuelled the sudden coldness in his gut.

What the hell did he care? He didn't believe in sentimental **** anyway. Dante dropped the bags on the already unwrapped presents, sending toys rolling across the floor noisily, and made his way to the corner bar without a word.

"Morrison already left, and I'm on my way out, too. Where have you been?" Lady broke the uncomfortable silence.

Dante glanced at the time. A good hour past noon. Was he at the diner that long? He grabbed a beer and popped it open with his thumb, turning to look at the awkward faces, most of whom avoided looking at him at all. Except for Lady, and the punk kid. Dante took a gulp of his beer, and smacked his lips together.

"Where's Enji?" He responded coldly.

"It's his nap time." Kyrie said.

"Looks like it was some party." Dante said when silence fell once more. "Pity I missed it."

"Well, we couldn't wait for you all day, you inconsiderate prick." Lady huffed, climbing to her feet. "Great party, guys." She added maliciously before the front door slammed shut behind her.

"Bitch." Dante breathed and took a long sip of beer.

"We took photos and video of it for you." Patty said timidly.

"Thanks," Dante said sarcastically, lifting the bottle in a mocking toast. "That's thoughtful of you."

"Dante..." Trish started with a sigh.

"Don't try to justify what you did." Dante cut her off, and his eyes were unusually frosty. "I risk my life for that kid every single ****ing day, and now I don't even get to celebrate surviving the past three hundred and sixty odd days?"

"Don't be so melodramatic..." Trish said.

"To hell with you all." Dante snapped, slamming the bottle down on the counter behind him. He did it too hard – glass shattered and alcohol spilled onto the floor and over his boots. "****!"

"Are you okay?" Kyrie got to her feet.

Dante glanced from her alarmed expression to his cut and profusely bleeding hand. He stared at the blood for a long moment. "Get out. All of you. Right now."

"I'll get Enji," Nero said, exchanging looks with Kyrie before turning toward the stairs. He barely took a step before Dante shot across the room and blocked his way.

"You're not taking Enji with you." Dante said.

"I think it's best if we do." Kyrie spoke up behind Nero. "We can't leave him alone with you when you're like this."

Dante stared hard at her until Kyrie physically cringed. He shifted his eyes and met Nero's gaze straight on. "If you want to get to the kid, you'll have to go through me first."

Nero backed away from him quickly, surprised. "C'mon, Kyrie."

"But Nero..."

"Kyrie, come on," Nero said, grabbing her arm and steering her toward the door.

Trish watched them leave, and turned to Dante, stumped. "I think they have a point, Dante. Enji isn't going to help you cool your temper down."

"Enji is sleeping." Dante bit back. "Get out!"

Trish blinked in surprise, and shrugged. "Okay, don't say we didn't offer to give you some breathing space." She turned and glided from the store with swaying hips and a confidence that at that moment worked on Dante's nerves.

He sent a glance at Nina and Patty, both of whom were busying themselves by clearing up the mess. The only other occupant in the store was the youthful man, who had been quiet the whole time. There was a solemn shadow across his face, and he met Dante's gaze evenly without fear or judgement.

"You too, asshole." Dante said. He dragged himself upstairs to the bathroom and rinsed the blood from his healing hand. He stepped back into the bedroom and sauntered over to the cot. Enji was in nothing but his nappy, and from the soft snoring sounds it was clear he'd had a blast. Well, that was all that counted at the end of the day, wasn't it?

Dante pursed his lips angrily. He wasn't that sentimental, and when he was, it was only on this specific day every year, and only for the length it took to devour a sundae. So what the hell was wrong with him? He froze when he heard a sigh behind him. He turned slowly to give the young man sitting on his bed a sidelong glance.

The furious words screaming through his head froze in his throat when the boy offered him a large flat box. Dante frowned hard from the glossy white square to the guy's sincere gaze.

"For you." The young man said coaxingly. "To congratulate you on a job well done."

Dante didn't take the box from him, and the boy put it down on the bed beside him instead. "That means **** to me."

"Maybe," the youth said guiltily. "But you did far better than I did once."

"So you gonna tell me when this job is done or what?" Dante said coldly.

"You'll know when it's done. Not that it will make any difference." The young man said with a brief smile. He got up and headed for the door, but Dante beat him to it.

He pushed the door closed with his hand, and stood guard against it with a ferocious look on his face. "Where is she?"

The youth stared back at Dante, dumb-founded. "I can't tell you."

"Okay, then tell me this; why is Eva alive?" Dante said quietly.

For a long time they stared at one another in tense silence, as though time itself had frozen around them.

"I'll let you know when I know." The young man said, his voice so soft that it was like a fleeting breath of wind before it was gone. And, like somebody had flicked a light switch, the boy himself disappeared. Dante found himself staring at thin air.

His shoulders slumped in defeat, and he surveyed the box on the bed curiously. Dante wandered over to it and sat down, picking it onto his lap. He hesitated for a long moment, and finally carefully took the lid off. Folded red leather. Dante got up and pulled it from the box, shaking it out. It was a trench coat – an exact replica of one he'd worn as a kid. His eye caught on the black scribble on the inside of the box lid. Two little words, but it made the world around him fall into a riptide of emotion and brought him to his knees.

Love,
Mom.

~...~

 

[DreadnoughtDT]

This might not be the best time to say it, but the "Ashwi" part had me in stitches. Literally, I couldn't stop laughing for like... five minutes. :lol: Great work!

 

[Dante's Stalker]

LOL thanks DT. I've got about 8 more chapters to post, not too sure how many posts it's going to work out to, but I'm glad you're keeping up with me

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Eva 1/2
~...~

When Enji hit age three, Dante was getting the hang of the whole single dad thing. From the trials of potty training, to the obscure randomness of toddlerhood – turning away for a second to find a rubber ducky dunked into his sundae, as one of many examples – Dante had survived it all. Being a father had its perks.

Being a single father had even more.
The treatment he received was not something Dante expected. From having parking bays – a nice, really big parking space – allocated to people just like him, to sometimes being urged to cut the line in the supermarket to get a cranky Enji out of there sooner. But that wasn't even half of it.
No, the Big Up about being a single dad, was the women.

It didn't matter what age they were, from teenagers to hot beautiful women to grannies, the female population suddenly looked at Dante in a way that contrasted immensely with what he was accustomed to. Who'd have thought a guy with a little kid could unknowingly squirm into the hearts of many fine ladies? Needless to say, Dante ventured out with Enji a lot more. The list of numbers he'd gotten from women were heaping up in his desk drawers. Not that he ever asked for it – they willingly gave it to him. Though, between work and caring for Enji, Dante barely had enough stamina left in him to entertain the idea of calling any of them.

All of which, due to his lucky streak, was about to change.

Dante pulled up outside a mediocre single floor brick house in his gleaming red AC Cobra, oblivious to the curious glances from parents herding their children out of the parking lot. He scanned the yard, littered with jungle-gyms and swings and sandpits, and glanced over at the excited boy, dressed in denim overalls, strapped in the seat beside him.

"Is that it?" Enji asked, staring.

"That's it. Ready for your big day?" Dante asked with a grin.

"Hell yeah!"

"Enji. Don't say hell." Dante said.

"Why not?" Enji blanched.

"Because Kyrie doesn't like it."

"But..." Enji started.

"And Trish doesn't like it either." Dante added. This shut the kid up.

Enji was a clever little rascal – smarter than any other three year old out there, Dante was pretty damn sure. He was taller than the average kid his age, too, and in Dante's opinion he was more advanced in certain areas due to their rough play at home. His hand-eye coordination was perfect, his reflexes top notch, and his mind sharp. For a three year old.

"Now you remember what I told you?" Dante said seriously.

"Yeah, Dad." Enji said, unbuckling his seatbelt and snatching his blue rucksack up from the floor. "I'll see ya!"

"Slow down there, speedy." Dante grabbed the boy by the wrist when he tried to fling open the door. "I'm coming in with you."

"Why?"

"It's your first day."

"So?"

"So Kyrie said I had to hang around for a bit to see if you settle in or not."

Enji sat back in the bronze leather seat and stared at his blue Nike sneakers for a moment. He glanced at Dante from the corner of his eye. "She's a worry-wart."

"You don't want me to go in with you at all?" Dante asked, not at all surprised. Enji preferred to do things alone most of the time. He liked it that way. Dante could get that – he was the same. Independent. The difference was that Enji was too little to be as independent as he wanted.

"No. I'll be okay. I'll just go say hi to one of the grownups." Enji said, reaching for the door and swinging it open. He jumped out and turned to look at Dante expectantly.

"Don't talk to strangers." Dante said, shaking a warning finger at him. "And no cursing. And if you see anything out of the ordinary, tell one of the teachers, and have them call me."

"Okay." Enji said, and shut the door.

Dante watched the kid skip into the yard and disappear into the house. He shook his head with a content sigh. Enji wasn't your every day average kid – Dante didn't see any of the other little kids eager to get away from their parents. He lingered in the car for a moment longer before climbing out and slipping into the house himself. Trish had told him Enji would put up a fuss with Dante trying to baby him, and instead of embarrassing Enji by tagging along, she suggested Dante make himself invisible to the boy.

Which would have been easy, Dante presumed, if he hadn't been so good looking. The moment he stepped into the large room crowded with kids and toys and tables, two older women ambushed him with curiosity in their eyes and wrinkled cheeks. They introduced themselves as teachers to him, but their names flew over his head when he tried to pull free of their welcoming hands. Enji had already settled himself down with a group of kids, and from what Dante could tell, he was fitting right in.

"Which one is yours then? The tall blonde one?" One of the teachers asked with a kind smile.

"Yeah." Dante said. "I gotta run, ladies. You'll keep an eye on my boy, won't you?"

"Oh, don't worry. We'll take good care of him."

Dante dazzled them with his most charming smile – the one that he reserved only for extreme cases such as these, when he really wanted to get out of an awkward situation fast – and disappeared out the front door without delay. He'd staked out the kindergarten the day before, familiarized himself with every corner of the house, and every inch of the evergreen grassy yard. Not that there had been any demon attacks on Enji for the past two years, but Dante wanted to be on guard regardless.

He found himself lingering in the parking lot longer than should be sensible, staring at the kindergarten. His senses picked up on no demon entities in close proximity. It was all clear. He could get in the car and drive off, and know that Enji was in good hands.

Dante slowly got into the car. Still, he didn't turn on the engine. Something was keeping him here. There had to be a reason, other than Enji, why he was stalling. The pale sky was marred by placid clouds, the winter sun glowing like a blinding orb and stroking the earth with gentle rays. There were turtledoves crooning in a withered old oak tree in front of the blue and yellow painted gates.

Dante expected the slippery youth, The Wimp, as he'd come to call the unnamed guy, to appear any moment. He liked to pitch up on big occasions like these, as though he didn't want to miss out on Enji's firsts. The last time Dante had seen him was on Enji's second birthday.

He still couldn't quite get his head around the guy. For Enji's second birthday, Dante had bought him a mini-quad bike. The Wimp had shown up with a remote controlled car for Enji – and a video tape for Dante. Which, of course, he didn't get to watch until Nina and Patty invited him over for dinner at their place, since Dante didn't own a VCR. There wasn't that much on the tape – most of the film was scarred and the casing a bit battered, as though it had gone through a war of sorts. It contained about five minutes of clear film.

Five minutes that encompassed a memory Dante could only barely recall. Twin blonde boys, one dressed in white, the other in green, making turns to dive off a sofa into a pool of pillows, laughing their little heads off. Him and Vergil at the tender age of two, having normal, harmless, innocent fun. The fact that Enji was the spitting image of the boys on that film confirmed what Dante suspected – Enji had to be his brother.

He'd been adamant to trap The Wimp on Enji's third birthday, knowing he was going to pitch up, and force him to lead him to Eva. Unfortunately, The Wimp had somehow caught whiff of Dante's intentions and didn't show his face.

He did, however, leave presents. A full baseball set for Enji, and keys for Dante with a note that read 'she's at the bar'. The word 'she' had driven Dante to mindlessly race through the streets to the local bar. When he got there, he realized just how naive he'd been. The 'she' referred to wasn't what he'd been hoping. Not that Dante could lie and say he didn't appreciate the beautiful little sports car now in his name, but he'd been disgruntled at the deceiving wordplay and indulged in several beers before taking his new toy for a ride.

Dante was determined to yet catch hold of the guy, but it didn't seem he was going to see him today. His senses were keenly spread out, waiting to pick up on the slightest twitch of demonic presence, but there was nothing but the sound of traffic far down the road. Dante glanced up when the sound of children singing drifted from the kindergarten, and let out a despondent sigh.

He reached forward and took hold of the key, and paused for another drawn out moment. The wind ruffled through his hair lightly, cool against his face. His lips pressed in contempt. Hope. That was what was keeping him here. Cruel, ruthless hope anchored him.

Hope to catch that damn asshole and crush his throat until he caved in and told him where Eva was.

Quiet footsteps sounded across the tar behind him at a calm pace. Dante stiffened when there was a momentary pause, and then a figure in rosy pink moved right past his door. His gaze darted up to watch the retreating back of a blonde woman slip through the gates and follow the footpath up to the front door. He relaxed. Just a human, nothing to worry about.

 

[DreadnoughtDT]

Your welcome! I'll read the whole thing, even if it takes a while to read. I've got nothing better to do, other than scare myself ****less playing Silent Hill. *muttering* Damn body falling out of the frickin' goddamn locker... *end muttering*

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Eva 2/2

With a feeling of defeat, Dante turned the key. The engine purred to life beneath him, and he flipped through his CD collection until he found the band he was looking for. He popped the disc in, shifted the automatic into reverse, and started to pull out of the parking space when loud music boomed through the speakers. Shifting the gear into drive, he sent one more glimpse at the kindergarten, and felt every fibre of his body disintegrate into jelly.

The woman in pink hadn't gone into the house. She stood on tiptoe outside the window, and had very suspiciously been peeking inside. Now, her head was turned, and she was staring back at him with a startled and pale expression of somebody who'd been caught red-handed. She slowly lowered herself back down onto her heels, and turned nervously toward him.

They stared at one another through the colourful gates, both of them trapped under the other's gaze like deer caught in headlights. The woman looked younger than he recalled, younger than the one he had enshrined with gold on his desk. But it was her – if the golden hair and familiar features didn't give away her identity, the horrified expression on her face sure as hell did.

She started toward him slowly, lowering her head. Dante could hear his heart thudding over the sound of the music blasting through the car. Doof...doof-doof...doof-doof-doof...
As she drew closer, he could see her fidgeting with her hands nervously. Her blue eyes avoided looking right at him. His hand shot out and the music snapped off.
...doofdoofdoofdoof...
He opened the door when she strolled past him, putting a fair distance between herself and the car. The word 'wait' was on the tip of his tongue, but it never got out. She spun around at the sound of the car door opening, and there was pure terror in her eyes. The look itself froze him to the spot.

"Don't follow me." She pleaded. She promptly continued on her way, and Dante sat staring after her.

A very large part of him wanted to chase after her, but her words held him put. He felt as helpless as he had when he was a kid. Unable to disobey her command. No matter what happens, Dante, you mustn't come out. This was that same feeling, that inexplicable compulsion he had to obey, even though his soul was screaming complete opposition. It was frustrating, and it tore at him. She was right there. Walking. Breathing. Alive. He could grab her, hold onto her and never let her go, and she wouldn't be able to fight him off. He could force her to come home with him. He could keep her, protect her, keep her safe. He could.

Dante closed the car door and turned back in the seat. He saw her pause in the reflection of his rear view mirror, saw her cast a quick, longing glance at him, before disappearing around the tall hedge growing along the sidewalk. He stared at the empty space there. He dropped his head against the steering wheel and closed his eyes, waiting for the burning in his chest and the vertigo in his stomach to fade away.

He kept his eye out for her on the drive back to Devil May Cry, but she was gone. Dante dragged himself into the store, eyes downcast as he marched over to his desk and sank down in his chair. Trish was paging through his collection of demon Wikipedia, and sent him a peculiar look.

"Hi." She said, in a manner to announce her presence to him.

Dante steadily gazed at the photo on his desk. His eyes flitted to Trish quickly before dropping to his hands clenched on his lap.

"What's the matter?" Trish asked playfully, wandering over to him. "First day jitters? Missing Enji already?"

Dante winced. Everything – and everyone – had fled his mind when Eva showed up. He shook his head, and shrugged vaguely. His voice wouldn't come at his command. The lump in his throat grew into tears, and he pressed a hand to his face in raw emotion.

"Dante, what happened?" Trish asked, alarmed at his reaction. She wrenched his hands away from his face to look him in the eye. "Dante!"

"Nothing." Dante blinked the tears from his eyes furiously and leaned back in his chair, reining in his composure. "It's nothing. Enji's fine. I'm fine. We're all fine."

"That is clearly not the case," Trish said, gripping his hands harder in her own. "Tell me what's wrong."

Dante looked away stubbornly and wrenched himself free of her. "Where would you like me to start? I'm raising a kid that's not mine, business is slow, and my pizza tab is currently higher than God," Dante said, motioning with his hands. The look of concern on Trish's face gave way to impatience, and he knew he was off the hook.

"Fine, if you don't want to talk about it, forget it," Trish said in a condescending tone, straightening up and resuming her previous position on the couch. "Just please don't start lamenting again, or I'll have to hurt you."

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Imaginary 1/2

~...~

The irony of the situation. Dante levelled his twins on the greasy, wart coated demons, and gunshots rang through the air. The monstrosities exploded like balloons filled with guts, and then there was perfect silence in the small bathroom. Brown gore stained the palm tree printed shower curtain and oozed down the blue tiled walls.

Dante twirled his guns and slipped them back in their holsters, surveying the mess around him. It was an easy mission, and it took him less than a minute to solve the problem. His third job for the day. If he had the heart, he would tell his client to cut down on the great sum of money they'd paid him to do this, but as it were, the pay compensated for having to drive all the way out here for such a little task in the first place.

But, ****, the irony. Dante eyed the toilet for a second, and his lips twitched slightly. Maybe he was being too soft on Enji. It had taken him a long time to convince the boy the potty monster didn't exist – a fear most children experienced irrationally. Because Enji had never come face to face with a demon, not since his first birthday, and therefore had no proof to support or encourage his fears. Now Dante was starting to doubt whether raising Enji to be ignorant to the very real threats out there was such a bright idea. Probably not.

"He doesn't have to know," Dante muttered and strolled from the empty house. He was right. Enji didn't need to grow up surrounded by danger. He could have a normal life. So what if Trish wasn't his mother. So what if Dante wasn't his father. At least Enji had somebody he could call Dad, and somebody he could look to as a mother figure – and he had a few of those.

"Is it over?" the aristocratic family huddled outside in their rich thick coats looked at him hopefully when he brushed past them to his car.

Dante answered with a salute and a faint smirk, and pulled out of their driveway with burning rubber. It was a half hour drive back into the city. By the time he got back to Devil May Cry, the sky was dunked in midnight hues with a silver crescent moon suspended in its midst. He stepped into the store quietly and trailed over to the corner bar. He peeled off his coat and dropped it over the counter, and fished through his collection of wines and ales for his bottle of whiskey.

"Enji's sorted out."

Dante jolted upright, nearly knocking the bottles off the shelf, and turned to flash an irritated look at Trish behind him. "Thanks."

"He had a tough day." Trish added, and patted him on the shoulder when he sent her a puzzled look. "I'll take him in to kindy tomorrow and see what's going on."

Dante mixed his drink, and spoke when Trish opened the door to step outside. "Good night."

"G'night." Trish said, offering him a vague smile before disappearing into the night.

Dante made himself comfortable on one of the bar stools, quietly scanning the store spread out in front of him. He was halfway through his second glass, thoughts wrapped in consternation as he tried to decide whether he was doing Enji a favour or not by hiding the scary reality of demons from him, when a clear click signalled the upstairs door opening.

He glimpsed the time on the clock behind him. Quarter past midnight. Dante was on his feet in a second, Coyote-A in one hand and his glass of whiskey in the other as he started toward the stairs. He stopped suddenly, one foot on the bottom step, when he focused on a dazed Enji standing at the top of the staircase.

"What are you doing up?" Dante asked, relaxing. He moved to hide the gun behind his back, but Enji's large blue eyes had already spotted it.

The little boy responded with a shaky breath, and reluctantly tore his gaze from Dante to stare at the open bedroom door. His chest heaved hard, once, and his shoulders shook.

"Enji?" Dante said edgily, ascending the stairs two at a time. He crouched down to the child's height, and turned his head firmly to look him in the eye. Enji's cheeks were wet, and more tears hung heavy on his lids. When Dante put down his glass and took Enji's small hand in his, the skin was icy cold and damp. "What is it, Enji?" Dante asked quietly.

Enji stared back at him for a long time. His breathing was ragged, every inch of his body rigid. Sweat dribbled from his temples. His voice was barely audible when he finally spoke, scarcely able to form the syllables properly. "Monster...under the bed."

Dante pulled the child down on the floor, and Enji sat staring back at him, completely terrified. "Stay here, alright? No matter what, don't move from this spot." Dante said firmly. Enji stared back at him.

Dante picked up his glass and emptied the contents down his throat on his way in to the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him, eyes scanning the dark room. "Alright, you ****, where are you?"

Silence. He dropped to the floor and crawled underneath the bed. Nothing. He opened the cupboard. Nothing. He pulled the window open and scanned the street below. Nothing. Dante closed the window and turned back to the empty room, genuinely confused. What the hell?
He marched out the room and peered over the railing at the quiet store below. Nothing. Dante looked at Enji, curled into a ball against the wall.

"Enji, where is it?" Dante asked.

"Under the bed." Enji said, looking up at him with round eyes.

"There's nothing in the room." Dante said gently.

"There's a monster under the bed!" Enji said loudly, and sobbed into his arms.

Dante let out a long sigh, and went to kneel down in front of the boy. "I think you had a nightmare, Enji. There's nothing in the room. I checked everywhere."

"But I'm not lying!"

"I didn't say you are," Dante frowned, and sat, stumped, when Enji rushed past him back into the room. Light flooded out into the hallway.

Dante found Enji flat on the floor, staring under the bed. He got down beside him. There was nothing but old socks and empty bullets. "See? Nothing." Dante said. "It was just a nightmare."

Enji didn't budge until Dante hauled the child to his feet. "Look, I'll come to bed. I'll keep you safe from this imaginary monster, okay?"

"It's not imaginary!" Enji shouted back at him. "I saw it!"

Enji ran from the room and Dante heard him bound downstairs. He let out an annoyed grunt. That did it. It would be stupid to let Enji know demons – monsters – were real. The kid would freak out even more than he already was. Dante took a hot shower to relax his tense muscles, and by the time he was done and ready for bed, he found Enji passed out on the couch downstairs.

First day jitters. That had to be it. Nerves and all, it must have caught up to Enji tonight in his sleep.


~...~

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Imaginary 2/2

The time that followed after that was tough on both of them.
Tough on Dante, because he had to learn to shut his trap when Enji had play-dates. Other parents weren't welcoming with his foul language around their children, and it put them off from bringing their kids over to Devil May Cry. The only parent who persevered, despite Dante's crude personality traits, was a shy, pretty widow who brought her little girl Emily over quite often.

And it was tough times on Enji, because he got taunted at kindergarten by the other kids. It made him clingy on Emily, being his only friend, and this didn't sit well with Dante. There was nothing he could do about it but snap at the teachers for not stepping up for his boy, and swearing at the other parents for having little ****s that would one day eat their damn words. Because they would, if Dante had anything to do with it.

It was doubly tough at night. Enji's nightmares got worse until finally neither of them could get a proper night's sleep. By the time Enji started going to Big School, Dante made the decision to invest in property on the outskirts of the city in an average, and relatively safe, suburb. It was around this time that Enji stopped waking up screaming every two to three hours at night, and Dante was able to actually sleep through again.

Big School, however, held a whole new dilemma in itself. Dante didn't know Enji was getting bullied until a frantic teacher called him into school when Enji was halfway through his third grade year.

"There's been an accident. We've called an ambulance, but you need to get here right now," was all the panicked woman got out over the phone. Dante had shown up at the school the same time the ambulance did.

He only knew where to find Enji because there was a crowd of children and teachers surrounding him. People were shouting, some kids were crying. Complete and total chaos. Dante shoved a path through the crowd until he came face to face with eight year old Enji lying flat on his stomach, arms sprawled awkwardly on his sides. His head was turned to the side, and one of the teachers was speaking to him in low, urgent tones.

"...need to stay with me, okay? Don't close your eyes, help will be here soon, just stay awake..."

"What happened?" Dante asked, dropping to his knees beside Enji. There was no blood anywhere, no signs of any kind of struggle. He reached out, but the teacher, surprisingly, batted his hands away.

"Don't touch him until the paramedics get here. He fell." The teacher said in a voice verging on hysteria.

"He... he fell?" Dante repeated, and glanced around, bewildered. "He fell? From where?"

The teacher stared at Dante as if he was the biggest idiot to walk the earth. "From the top floor."

Dante glanced up at the four story building, gauging the distance. His eyes narrowed. The walls bordering the open school hallways were too high for anyone to simply trip and fall over.

"Dad... it hurts..." Enji choked out, and Dante looked down at him.

"It's okay, Enji." Dante said, slowly. He looked across at the teacher. "Who said he fell?"

"His friends. Uh... Peter and Mark and the boys..." The teacher gestured briefly, and Dante's eyes nailed on the four kids staring with wide eyes. They shifted under his piercing gaze. Guilt and fear stroked across their faces. Dante's stare turned into a deadly glare.

"C'mon," Dante said gently, turning his attention back to Enji. He turned him over onto his back carefully, to the teacher's alarm. "Let's get you home."

"You can't... you mustn't move him, you might cause even more damage..." The woman rambled.

Dante silenced her with a steady look. He grabbed Enji's hand and pulled him into a sitting position. "You good to get up?"

"Just gimme a minute, Dad." Enji said, wincing in pain, pressing his hand to his chest. He'd broken a few ribs then. Dante waited patiently, and moved aside when the paramedics descended on the boy. Expectedly, they didn't find that much damage on Enji at all. Winded, with a headache, but that was the jest of his injuries.

"We'd like to bring him in to hospital for observation," one of the lead paramedics said with a peculiar look in his eye.

Dante knew what he was thinking. A kid, who happened to be related to a half-breed, falling from that height, hitting the ground face first, coming off without a scratch. Observation my ass, Dante thought. They were likely to experiment on Enji like some lab rat. Humans and their damn curiosity of the supernatural.

"Yeah, and I'd like to retire from my career as a killer. But let's face it, that's not going to happen," Dante muttered to the paramedic, who cast a daunted look up at him. Dante gave him a tight smile. "Ready, Enji?"

"Yeah," Enji mumbled. Dante pulled him to his feet, noting his flushed face and hunched shoulders. Enji kept his head down and his eyes on the ground as Dante led him through the gaping crowd of spectators. Once they were in the car, Dante finally turned to him.

"You going to tell me what really happened?"

Enji shrugged. Picked at a thread in his school blazer. "Does it matter?"

"I wouldn't be asking if it didn't." Dante said.

There was a moment of absolute silence, then, "They pushed me off the roof."

"Why?" Dante asked.

"Because they're assholes."

"Thought so." Dante said. "How long has this been going on?"

"Who cares?" Enji shrugged again. "I don't want to dump my load on you. You've got enough **** going on as it is."

"And how would you know what **** I've got going on?" Dante asked, arching his eyebrow in surprise.

"C'mon, Dad. You're out nearly all day, you get in late with your coat always pulverized and you reek like a junk yard. And you sleep all the time when you're home. I know you're not doing mundane jobs." Enji trailed off, and ran his hands through his hair.

"What I do doesn't matter. You take priority, Enji. Have those boys been picking on you?"

"Yeah. So what of it?" Enji said, avoiding Dante's gaze. "It's nothing new."

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't have any friends, Dad."

"What about Emily?"

"Except for Emily." Enji snapped. "Kids don't like me because I'm different."

"Tch." Dante said, shifting uncomfortably.

Enji gave him a withering look. "They say my mom abandoned me with a reject because she couldn't bear to be seen with a..."

"Stop right there." Dante cut him off. "Who the hell called me a reject?"

"Everybody." Enji said slowly. "Come on, Dad. We don't exactly fit into society. At least, I don't."

"And then you wonder why I hate people." Dante said. "Your mom didn't abandon you, Enji. She left you with me because I can take better care of you."

"Whatever, man." Enji grumbled.

"I can protect you, Enji. Nobody else can." Dante said.

"No. Nobody can protect me, Dad. You didn't keep those kids from pushing me off the roof. You didn't stop them from cornering me after school every week and beating the hell out of me. So, exactly how the **** are you protecting me?" Enji snapped.

They stared at each other. Dante was the one to finally look away. He started the car, and they drove off in awkward, tension ridden silence. They didn't look at each other, and when Dante changed course from home toward the store instead, Enji said nothing.

Dante parked outside the Devil May Cry, and gave Enji a long, measuring look. "You're right, Enji," he admitted, winning a confused glance from the boy. "I can't protect you all the time."

He got out, slammed the door, and headed into the store. Dante was unlocking the top cabinet of the bar when Enji came sauntering inside. He grabbed a drink for himself, and handed an energy soda to Enji.

"What are you doing?" Enji asked when Dante pulled him out of his blazer.

"I'm going to teach you how to defend yourself." Dante said.

"Seriously, Dad." Enji edged away from Dante impatiently. "I've got to cram for a geometry quiz tomorrow..."

"And acing in geometry is going to save you from getting your ass kicked again?"

"No... look, I appreciate the gesture to get taught by my old Pop how to 'defend' myself, but I'll get expelled from school if I hit anyone." Enji said.

Dante shifted into a fighting position at Enji's demeaning tone of voice. "I'm not going to teach you to start a fight. I'm going to show you how to end one."

Enji stared at Dante, clearly embarrassed. "You look like an idiot. If I wanted to learn karate, I'd go for actual classes from a sensei."

"You haven't seen your old man in action, kid." Dante smirked. "Now suck it up. I'm training you. If you're good enough, I might even let you in on the family business."

Enji's self-conscious shield lowered and his eyes lit up with curiosity. "What family business?"

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Amused much? 1/2 <--title sucks because I was NOT impressed with this chapter.
Enji's POV.

~...~

The sun beat down hard from an unrelenting sky overhead when Enji stepped out of the public restroom. The smell of sticky cotton candy and salty popcorn drifted in the air around him, and Enji squeezed through the thick crowd of people around him.

Dante was trying to negotiate a refund from the ticketmaster behind a bright neon counter, after Enji threw up his corndog on the Loopy Dip ride. Enji had told him not to – getting refunds for tickets wasn't exactly feasible – but obviously Dante hadn't listened. It was all the chocolate he'd been eating today that was to blame for his upset stomach, but then Enji wasn't going to complain. It was his ninth birthday, after all, it wasn't every day he got treated to the amusement park.

A hand gripped his shoulder before he could break free of the crowd and head toward his father, and Enji whirled around in surprise. Trish was there, wearing a mischievous grin, her blue eyes glinting with glee.

"Hey, I thought you were on a job in Fortuna." Enji said, his face lighting up at the sight of her.

"Well," Trish said with a bashful shrug. "I decided I'd rather spend the day with the birthday boy. Come on, before Dante sees us."

"What?" Enji asked, confused when she wrenched him out of the flow of foot traffic into the shade, out of Dante's line of sight.

"Come on." Trish urged playfully, prodding him forward. "Did you see that new shuttle ride they've got here?"

"Uh... yeah, but they said it's not open yet." Enji frowned, allowing her to lead him past the rides toward the far side of the park. "Are you high on something?"

"What do you mean?" Trish asked over her shoulder.

"You're acting weird." Enji said, observing her dark jeans and frilly red blouse suspiciously. Not Trish's usual dress code.

Trish gave him a concerned look. "Don't be silly," Trish chided, and tugged him behind her faster. "We need to hurry before Dante comes looking for you."

"Why?" Enji asked, glancing around to see if Dante was following them or not.

"Because...well..." Trish hesitated, and broke out in a smile. "Because I'm supposed to be in Fortuna, aren't I? Oh, look, here it is."

Enji offered no resistance when she pulled him up the steps to the new ride. It was a large shuttle – a huge ball really – nothing spectacular about it but the flashy Alien Raider sign above it. He glanced around, disconcerted, when Trish opened the door and propelled him inside.

"Hey!" Enji protested, steadying himself, and looked around with large eyes. There were only two seats inside, with a control panel that looked disturbingly real. "Are we allowed in here?"

"No." Trish snorted, gently pushing him into one of the seats and settling down beside him. "Ready?"

"Is this safe?" Enji asked uncertainly.

"Of course it is. The only reason why they haven't let people on here yet is because they're still spreading the hype about it." Trish said reassuringly, and buckled her seatbelt. "Do yours too, or it won't activate."

Enji fumbled with his own seatbelt in the dark until, finally, there was a click. The darkness around them disappeared and they were plunged into space. Enji stared in amazement as the earth revolved right in front of them; enormous, solid, and fragile. It was breathtaking.

An animated voice came over hidden speakers. "For many millennia, human civilisation has been residing on planet Earth in peace. Now, a wormhole has appeared in the Milky Way, and unleashed an army of foreign bodies intent on destroying the planet. It is your mission to take them out before they hit our atmosphere." The voice was distorted, the words slurred. Enji exchanged looks with Trish.

"Maybe that's why they haven't opened the ride up to public yet." Enji said. "The story sucks. And the guy sounds drunk."

Trish giggled – a lovely, warm sound that Enji had never heard from her before – and ruffled her hand through his hair. "So? The visuals are good enough. Are we going to fight off the bad guys, or what?" Trish challenged, taking hold of the controller mounted in front of her on the panel.

"Yeah." Enji said slowly, staring at her for another moment. "Yeah, okay."

By the time they finally re-emerged from the ride, the sun was low in the sky and the heat was diminishing quickly in the shadow of approaching dusk. Trish held his hand tightly as they sneaked down the steps, scanning the area nervously.

"I didn't realize we were at it this long," Trish mumbled unhappily.

Enji's beaming grin was fading quickly at her sudden tension. "What's it matter?"

Trish turned to him thoughtfully. "Dante would be worried."

"So? I can take care of myself. He taught me to fight, remember?" Enji arched his eyebrows at her.

"He... taught you to fight?" Trish repeated slowly, staring. "Not with weapons, I hope. You're still far too young for that."

"Yeah, with weapons." Enji said, stepping away from her warily and detangling his hand from hers. "What is up with you, Trish? You helped train me."

"Oh." Trish looked back at him with a look of pure frustration. "Damn it! He reminds me of an idiot I know."

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Amused much? 2/2

"You're not Trish, are you?" Enji said uneasily.

"What are you talking about?" Trish shook her head, and snatched his hand again. "Let's go on the bumper cars before it gets too late."

Enji had no time to protest. She forcibly dragged him behind her through the throng of people, and proved to be a real hard-ass on the bumper car track. That was more like the Trish that Enji knew, and he decided not to bolt out of his own car to get away from her.

Instead, they spent a good fifteen minutes chasing one another. It didn't matter how hard he was pumping the gas, though, he couldn't crash into her hard enough. In contrast, Trish was somehow able to make him physically jolt back and forth in his seat every time she collided with him. The bell shrieked, announcing the end of the turn, and the bumper cars on the track ran dead.

Enji was halfway out of his own car when Trish jerked him behind one of the pillars, crouching down in front of him. Her face had a strained look on it that unsettled him. When Enji peered around the pillar, he spotted Dante talking to the guy manning the bumper track.

"I've got to go, Enji." Trish said quietly, and he scowled down at her when her voice shook.

"Trish, you're scaring me..."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Trish hiccupped, and pulled him into a warm hug. She held onto him for a long, long time, and Enji let her. It was weird, and awkward because Trish never displayed this level of warmth toward him, but strangely he found comfort in her arms.

"Enji!" Dante's shout echoed off the walls.

Trish jerked away from him, and Enji's eyes widened when he saw tears running down her cheeks.
"Don't tell Dante I was here, or we'll be in big trouble." Trish sobbed, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

Enji grabbed her hand when she started to move away. "Don't go."

"I'm sorry." Trish said, gently but firmly pushing his hand away. "I'm sorry, Enji. Happy birthday."

She slipped into the mob of people filing out the room, and disappeared. It was too weird. It was Trish – Enji knew her, he saw her just about every day – but the personality was completely at odds with the one he'd grown up with. Enji didn't budge from his spot until Dante's voice snapped him out of his confused reverie.

"You little ****."

Enji looked up sharply and stared into fuming blue eyes. "Dad." He didn't know what else to say.

"Get to the car." Dante growled, shoving him forward by the neck. "Where the hell do you think you can get off by just disappearing like that? ****it, Enji, I've been looking all over this damn place for you."

"Sorry." Enji mumbled, keeping his head low as Dante marched him out of the amusement park. People sent funny looks at them as they went past, their curiosity and surprise at Dante's roughness turning into awkwardness.

"You're grounded." Dante snapped when they got in the car.

"For how long?" Enji asked, barely able to look at him. Dante was scary when he was mad, and right that moment, he was beyond ****ed off.

"Until I feel like ungrounding you." Dante said heatedly. "You've got no ****ing idea what you just put me through."

Enji shut up. He knew it was better to stay quiet and try steer clear of Dante when he was in a foul mood. Anything he said or did from hereon would only grind his nerves. Enji knew because he'd inherited that same temper point from his dad. When they got home, Dante didn't move from the car.

"Get out. Do your homework." Dante said through gritted teeth, his eyes everywhere but on Enji.

Enji obeyed quickly, and watched Dante speed out of the driveway before he even had the door properly closed behind him. He stood in front of the garage for a moment, listening to the engine fade into the distance. Enji turned with a miserable sigh to go into the house, and paused when he saw a pretty brunette in yellow sitting on their doorstep. Her green eyes were filled with concern.

"Hey." She said when he pulled the spare key from underneath the rotting welcome rug.

"Hey, Em." Enji said, unlocking the door. "Want some cookies? Kyrie baked them for me this morning."

"Sure." Emily followed him into the house. "Your dad looked angry."

"My dad has issues." Enji muttered, pulling the biscuit tin off the top shelf in the kitchen and offering it to her. He picked one of the bigger ones out himself and bit into it. "How was school?"

"The usual. Mr. Brady did another freak pop quiz in maths." Emily huffed, fishing through the tin of cookies with a finger. "Mark and Jerry have been talking trash about you again today."

"So?" Enji sniffed. "I don't care what they think."

"I know you don't, but I do. It's not fair of them to spread rumours that you're a narc, and I don't know what other bull**** they've been lying about." Emily said, her cheeks colouring red in anger. "I don't know why you put up with it, Enji. You should just stuff them up."

"They'll get what's coming to them." Enji sank down on a stool, and Emily joined him. "Sooner or later."

 

[Dante's Stalker]

To Find Oneself 1/3

"I'd rather it be sooner," Emily said. She nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. "Enji, you can take them out. Teach them a lesson."

"You think I don't want to?" Enji said in disbelief. "I can't, not unless I'm defending myself, and since they found out who my dad is they've been keeping clear of me."

"So?" Emily demanded. "What stops you from getting some payback?"

"My dad." Enji said grouchily. "Teaches me the tricks of the trade and then makes me swear not to hurt anyone unless I feel threatened."

"Well, they're threatening your social rep. I think that ought to count." Emily contested.

Enji shook his head at her hopeful gaze. "Forget it, Em. Dad would kill me. He's already grounded me as it is."

"You're grounded?" Emily asked with a giggle. "Then why am I here?"

"He doesn't have to know I have company." Enji shrugged. "Did you bring my homework?"

"Yeah, it's in my bag. Want me to help..." Emily said, and stopped short when Enji flew off the stool and bolted down the hallway. "Enji, what's wrong?"

A door slamming shut answered her a second later. Emily sighed, and sent a discontent look around the open plan house. There was nothing homely about it. No photos and no decorations – unless you could call the hideous and rotting beast heads stabbed into the walls at random intervals decoration. There was a dusty worn out rug on the lounge floor behind her, and a red and black checked two-seat sofa, so old it had stuffing protruding from its aged wounds, was shoved up against the wall. The plasma screen television was on the other side of the room, and the only thing glossy and clean in the whole house. A violet guitar of sorts was leaned up against the wall beside it. A very weird guitar that sent off equally weird vibes.

Emily dropped off her stool and bravely walked down the hallway, carefully picking her way through the thin layer of garbage that made up the floor. She knocked her fist lightly on the bathroom door, and winced when she heard some unearthly and stomach-churning sounds coming from within.

"Enji? Are you okay?" Silence. Then a choking noise followed by a sound like water being dumped into a pool. Emily knocked again, harder this time. "Enji!"

Her hand twisted the knob and the door was open ajar when Enji finally responded. "Don't…I'll be out in a … a second…"

"Are you sick?" Emily asked, pausing uncertainly. She didn't want to see if he was, but she didn't want to just abandon him either.

"It's all that ****ing chocolate." Enji muttered. From his tone of voice, she thought he didn't mean it for her ears.

"Do you want me to call Kyrie?" Emily asked, and blinked when he retorted with a curt, "hell no". She pushed the door open and peeked her head inside, and nearly gagged at the smell.

"Enji, don't be stubborn. If you're not feeling well I can always ask my mom to take you to the doctor when she gets home."

"Don't fuss, damn it. I'm fine!" Enji managed to get out before folding double over the toilet seat.

Emily wrinkled her face. "Whatever, Enji. I'm calling your dad." Emily didn't wait for him to recover and force out one or the other stupid remark.

She headed for the kitchen, picked up the phone and tapped the receiver against her chin thoughtfully as she scanned the millions of notes pasted to the fridge door. 'I'll know if you've been in here Enji', 'basketball practise on Thursdays', and a long note depicting specific toppings on a pizza with a phone number beneath it. There were pink sticky notes in more readable, feminine writing; 'take trash out on Mondays' with a darker and different handwriting beneath it reading 'ENJI', 'no junk before supper', 'lay off the sugar'. Then there were hasty, scribbled notes that Emily thought looked like gibberish but had an odd importance to them, like the bright red sticky that read 'for entrapment of teleporters – see Nissa at conference hall, 27-29 Churt street', and the white note beside it with YAMATO written in black ink.

She finally found the somewhat obscured list of emergency numbers, and punched in the one next to the name Dante. The phone rang… and rang… and rang… Emily was about to hang up and call Kyrie instead when there was finally a click on the other line.

"I'm working." A deep male voice shot into her ear. Emily paused, confused. Was it his answer machine? She waited a second for the beep, but it didn't come. Instead, the voice spoke again, this time with even less patience than before. "This had better be an emergency or I'm going to peel the skin off your ass when I get home."

Emily's breath hitched in her throat for a second before she could force her voice past the sudden fear. "Uh…hi. It's Emily."

"Huh." There was a moment of silence, and then the voice came back with a completely different tone. "Emily? Why are you calling from the house? What's wrong?"

"Enji is sick. I thought I should call you… if you're at work, I can ask my mom to take him to the doctor when she gets home, I'm sure she won't mind…"

"What do you mean he's sick?" Enji's dad didn't sound impressed. "If he's trying to play the sympathy card…"

"He's throwing up." Emily frowned, confused at his approach. She always thought Enji's dad was cool – the type of guy she would have wanted as her own father – and they seemed to get along really well when she was around. She'd never heard him this angry before, though, and funny enough, she felt like she was playing peacekeeper between two rivalling friends.

"Okay, I'm on my way." He said, and the line went dead in her ear.

Emily replaced the receiver and charged back to the bathroom with a tall glass of water when Enji stepped out into the hallway. His icy gaze swept over her and focused on the glass before meeting her gaze in dismay.

"I told you…"

"Shut up, Enji," Emily cut him off and spun him toward his room. "You need to go lie down."

"You didn't call my dad, did you?" Enji asked unhappily when he dropped onto his unmade bed. He groaned at her 'duh, stupid' expression. "****. Thanks a lot."

"Drink it up." Emily said, plunking the glass down on his side table. "What's your problem anyway?"

"Trish got me into trouble today." Enji said, sending the water a distasteful glance before curling onto his side and straddling a pillow. "And now Dad is majorly ****ed off at me. I've got such a ****ing wonderful life."

"Well," Emily sighed heavily. "**** happens. What can you do, right?"

Enji pressed his face into the pillow and tensed when his stomach made a loud, agitated noise.

"What have you been eating?" Emily asked, arching her eyebrows at his blonde head.

"I can't remember…candy floss… chocolate… ice cream… corn dog…" Enji said, his words muffled.

"Corn dog?" Emily snapped, and slapped him on the back. "You idiot, I told you not to eat those things at the amusement park. They were in the paper the other day for causing food poisoning. You should go to a doctor, Enji. Or a hospital!"

"But it smelled so good and I was so hungry…" Enji protested weakly, and looked up when her weight lifted off the bed beside him. "Don't leave me!"

"I'm getting you a bucket before you spread your guts on the floor, stupid," Emily retorted over her shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.

"Alll byyyy myyyyself… don't wanna beeee all byyy myyyself anymore…" She heard Enji lament across the hallway, and shook her head with a grim smile.

Enji offered a weak but genuine grin when she returned with a deep black bucket in hand. He didn't budge from his position on the bed, and when she offered the glass to him, he pursed his lips stubbornly. "I don't feel like water."

 

[Dante's Stalker]

To Find Oneself 2/3

"You'll dehydrate if you don't keep up your fluid intake."

"****, you sound like Kyrie. What, are you going to play nurse now?"

"Yeah." Emily smiled. "And as your nurse, I am telling you to shut the hell up and drink the damn water."

"But I don't wanna…"

"Fine! Just take it easy. I'll go do your homework for you, but you have to rest until your dad gets home, okay?"

"Okay." Enji said and stiffened again when his stomach did another dangerous loop. "Ow."

"I'm in the lounge if you need anything." Emily said, giving him an affectionate pat on the head.

Enji shuddered and closed his eyes when he was alone in the room. What a way to kill the day – and now he probably wouldn't get to go demon hunting with his dad tonight either, since they weren't exactly on even ground anymore. Damn Trish and her weird antics. Maybe if he just straight out told his dad that it was her fault – even if she did decide to give him a little painful electric jolt for betraying her, it would beat having his dad mad at him, and his grounding sentence would be lifted and…

…footsteps. Enji felt his muscles contract instinctively in the presence of demonic power. His first thought was to get to Emily as fast as he could to protect her. His eyes shot open, and he came face to face with a blackness so unyielding it nearly hurt his eyes. What the- where was he?

The hard, smooth floor chilled his bare feet. Enji went still, and when he did the footsteps stopped, too. His footsteps. Okay then. He started walking again, trying to keep his steps light, but in the infinite dark it resounded almost too loudly. Enji stretched his senses when his eyes wouldn't adjust. He was still learning exactly how to listen, and how to pick up on small things like differing temperatures and where the cool drafts were coming from, and what scents were carried in those drafts. But his training had been sufficient enough up to this point to help him establish where he was. He was in a tunnel, or a corridor of sorts.

It was so quiet. Too quiet. He could hear his own breathing. Silent inhale. Slow exhale. He had to keep moving. Common sense told him he couldn't just stand there and do nothing, because something was tugging at him. Not a physical tug, but a mental one. Enji scanned the tunnel ahead of him warily. Something was waiting for him in the dark. He couldn't see it, but his instincts warned him. He turned to look over his shoulder, and froze.

It wasn't completely dark after all. There was a doorway illuminated by a fuzzy blue neon light far behind him. Enji turned and started toward it. The demonic power intensified with every step he took. He tried to pick up the pace, but his movements were restrained and barely under his control, like some slurring nightmare. That's when it hit him – he's dreaming.

But it wasn't the realm of dreams that was slowing him down. It was fear. Pure, undeterred, icy terror pumped through his blood and shocked his nerves. Enji wanted to call out, but fear held him mute. If he made a sound, it would get him. It didn't know he was there – or maybe it did. Maybe it was waiting for him. He had to get to that ****ing door.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. His fingers twitched nervously. It felt like an eternity in damnation before he got closer to the doorway. That's when the whispering started. A hiss to his left. Another murmur behind him. A sigh that seemed to echo off the walls, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Enji wanted to run, but he couldn't. Maybe that's what had him wound up – having no control. No power. But he could take down whatever attacked him in the dark, he was confident he could. He wasn't afraid of demons, and he sure as hell wasn't afraid of nightmares.

He watched as the colour around the door altered and changed with every approaching step to a brilliant violet. He was close enough now to recognize that it wasn't a doorway at all. It was a mirror. The whispering increased with his every heartbeat.

 

[Dante's Stalker]

To Find Oneself 3/3

It was a mirror, and he was in it but there was something wrong about his reflection. It wasn't until he was ten feet away from it that he realized with a chill what exactly it was – it wasn't his reflection, it couldn't be, because the image had its back turned to him.

Clad in royal blue from head to toe.
His heart beat loudly in his ears. Another whisper off to his left. He took another step and paused, studying the reflection cagily. The fine frost blonde hair was his, down to the natural white highlights and the eerie glow that looked like layers of thin ice reflecting off the sun. The build was his, too, the exact same length, the same skinny limbs. The figure didn't move.

Enji swallowed hard and took another step. His mouth was dry. Tears pricked his eyes. The power was strongest here – overwhelming, suffocating, deadly, washing into him and past him in frosty waves. The terror was at its max here, too, as if entwined with the powerful source. The whispers moulded into a cacophony of fierce hissing. He couldn't distinguish words from the chaos.

Enji extended his arm to grab hold of his reflection's shoulder, to turn him around, to look himself in the eye. He took another step forward to do so, and heard the hissing clear into audible words. It blasted over him like someone screaming into a loudspeaker, shaking him down to the core. He caught the words "will not surrender" from an arctic voice in the second before something sunk its claws into his legs.

It ripped him off his feet and he crashed to the ground face first before he was ruthlessly dragged back into the dark, away from the mirror. Enji struggled against the unseen foes, thrashing about wildly and trying to kick them off. He'd found his voice and was screaming furiously as he tried to fight off their hands; shadows that tauntingly grabbed and released, grabbed and released, relentless and maddening.

He caught hold of a hand, felt its solid flesh against his, and twisted hard. Bone snapped, and a resonating "Ow, ****!" jerked him out of the black.
Enji stared wildly back up into the familiar face hovering above him. His chest was heaving hard, and sweat burned his eyes, and his body felt sore and cold. He was being pinned down on his bed, but when his stomach squeezed unhappily, he was released abruptly. Enji rolled onto his side and barely made it to the bucket in time.

When his puke session finally came to an end, Enji wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, and leaned back weakly. Trish was perched on the bed beside him, and pushed his hair back before pressing a firm hand to his forehead. Enji's eyes flicked from her indifferent demeanour, to Dante's quiet martyr one. He was gripping his wrist hard.

Enji felt a jolt of guilt. "Sorry, Dad, I didn't…"

"Forget it, Enji." Dante said through clenched teeth, and offered a small, somewhat painful, lopsided smile. "Don't worry about it."

"Keep checking him. His fever should break soon. Those vitality pills can kick-start a dead horse." Trish said to Dante, and shook her head at Enji. "What have you two been up to for you to get this sick?"

"Like you don't know." Enji said and pulled a face at the sourness in his mouth.

"I don't," Trish said, raising an eyebrow at him worriedly. "Should I?" She asked, turning to Dante warningly.

"Hey, we just went to the amusement park." Dante said defiantly. "Don't look at me like that, I didn't get him sick."

Trish turned back to Enji for confirmation, and rolled her eyes heavenward when he returned her with a blank look. "You were there."

"I was in Fortuna, Enji. Remember? I was helping Nero track down a lair of scarecrows." Trish said. There was nothing in her voice or in her gaze to even remotely hint that she knew what he was talking about. She really was in Fortuna. But then, what the hell was running around with him at the park all day? Or, rather, who?

"Right." Enji mumbled, looking down at his damp hands. He didn't speak again until Trish had left and he was alone in the room with Dante. He sent a glance out his dark window, and caught sight of the time on his alarm clock. Half past eleven. "Dad, I had a really bad dream."

"Yeah, I know," Dante said wryly. "I had to restrain you from hurting yourself." He shook his hand – now healed – meaningfully.

"I thought you were one of the things that were trying to kill me." Enji said flatly.

Dante sank down on the bed beside him with a drawn out sigh. "Maybe you're too young to get into the devil hunting just yet."

"What?"

"If you're having nightmares about it…"

"Don't try this bull with me, Dad. You get nightmares, too." Enji interrupted angrily. "You think I don't hear you wake up in the middle of the night?"

"Uh…" Dante gave him an observing look, and hung his head, shrugging. "Tch. Okay. I'm just saying, you don't have to go through this, Enji. If it's too much for you…"

"Dad. I love doing what we do. It's the only thing I'm good at without screwing up." Enji said, and cringed back into the pillows when his stomach cramped tightly. "I need it."

"Fine. Until I find an alternative outlet for you, you can help me on certain missions." Dante caved in, and turned grave. "What was your dream about, anyway?"

"I was in some kind of abyss. Someone was calling to me, I'm sure of it, but there was something that was waiting to stop me from getting to him."

"Him?" Dante's eyes flashed at the boy.

Enji shrugged, and smoothed his hair back from his forehead, exhausted. Fine tremors still ran through his hands. "Yeah. It was like my reflection. And it had a lot of power, I mean… ****, Dad, there are no words. And I was trying to get to him. To me. He was me."

"He was you?" Dante asked in a clipped voice.

"I felt like I didn't exist, like I didn't have a body, and if I could get to him… to me, if I could submerge into myself and grab hold of that power, then I'd be able to get away from the thing in the dark…" Enji said.

"Power." Dante said quietly.

"Yeah. Power that would blow your mind." Enji nodded shakily, and let out a deep breath.

"What were you planning on doing with that power? Do you know?" Dante asked.

"Yeah." Enji said slowly, and his cool eyes met Dante's steadily. "I was going to take that power… find the thing in the dark. And kill it."

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Beaten Down 1/2

Fierce frustration slithered through his body like a serpent breathing through his blood. Dante's blazing cold eyes darted from the wavy crystal ball on the small table, to the hag draped in shades of violet and emerald across from him. Her ring adorned fingers were clasped around the crystal ball, and she was watching him with bewilderment in her grey gaze.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" She said snootily.

"Try again," Dante snapped, leaning forward.

The woman sighed miserably, and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. There was a tense silence in the stifling, dimly lit room. Dante stared at the crystal ball so hard he thought it might split in two, or his eyes would drop out of his head.

"I'm sorry, Dante." The woman choked out and looked at him. "Perhaps there is something else of his that I can use to make a better connection?"

"Are you screwing with me? That's all I've got," Dante said, glancing at the red amulet she had spread out on the table around the crystal orb.

"Well I can't sense his presence in the afterlife. You're certain he's dead?"

"Nissa, c'mon." Dante said, tilting his head to the side in exasperation. He wasn't in the mood to discuss exactly how his brother had died, and it had cost him a bundle to get her to see him in the first place. Renowned as the best clairvoyant within the city boundary, and even more famous as a sorceress with unlimited resources, Nissa's services didn't come cheap or easy.

"Alright, alright," Nissa said with a shake of her head, wild auburn curls swaying around her shoulders. "Let me get through to my spirit guide, maybe he can tell me what you want to know."

"Please do." Dante said with rigid sarcasm. He watched her closely, and wondered whether he should just demand his money back and get the hell out, when Nissa's mouth opened and her eyes rolled back in her head.

"The one you seek has crossed over." A distorted, unstable voice filled the room.

"Crossed over to where, asshole?" Dante snapped, annoyed.

There was a long silence."To the world of the living."

"Reincarnated? That's what you're saying?" Dante said, and restrained himself from grabbing Nissa by the throat and choking it out of her.

"No....reborn..."

~...~

 

[Dante's Stalker]

Beaten Down 2/2

Students swarmed down the broad hallway toward the double exit doors, leaving behind the glossy pale floors and magenta walls of the building, and flooding the school parking lot. The atmosphere was considerably relaxed now that the day had finally come to an end. Enji and Emily wandered toward the outside world together. Emily looked annoyed, and Enji in turn looked like he'd been given a death-sentence with is features drawn tight over bone and bland of colour.

"Again? Enji, c'mon, I like having you around but you can't pack off at my place every single day." Emily said gently.

"But you're my only friend," Enji wheedled. "Emily, come on, you don't know what it's like. My dad is seriously scary as of late."

"You're telling me you're afraid of your dad?" Emily asked sceptically.

"Have you seen how he looks at me? I mean, he stares at me with these piercing eyes, like he's trying to read my ****ing mind – you'd **** yourself, too, Em." Enji said, and widened his eyes pleadingly. "Just for today, please?"

"Did you ask him what's wrong?" Emily asked.

"Like I wanna know? He's been acting weird ever since I told him about that dream I had." Enji said and crunched up his face. "He hasn't been the same since, and I don't think it's because I broke his hand."

"With weird you mean-?"

"I mean he just treats me differently. Like he's scared to come near me. He doesn't even want to continue training me, Emily, and he won't let me go hunting with him. We can't just hang out and have fun like we used to either, because there's always some sort of tension between us." Enji said and sighed dramatically. "I can't take it. I'm going to lose my cool with his stupidity, and you'll be to blame because you won't let me come hang at your place."

"Maybe you should take the initiative and show him that you're still the same old Enji?" Emily suggested as they started to descend the stairs outside. The wind swept over them, whipping Emily's long black hair around her face and driving the aroma of her raspberry conditioner in his direction. Along with the pleasant scent came another sharp, salty, and sweaty scent. Enji sidestepped and ducked suddenly, and turned to look at the group of boys that had been waiting to ambush him. Steve was standing with his hands outstretched, as though he'd been about to push him down the stairs.

"Oh, you guys, get a life!" Emily said irritably when she noticed them, too. "Come on, Enji."

Enji took a step down, watching the boys through suspicious narrowed eyes. Emily drifted past him toward the parking lot. He took another wary step down.

"Get him!" Steve hollered, and his three friends launched at Enji. They caught him by his backpack and by his collar, and yanked him out of sight from others who might come to his aid. Enji staggered when Mark shoved him around the side of the school building, and landed hard on his rump.

"You guys, stop it! Enji!" Emily's helpless cry followed them.

Enji shrugged out of his backpack and climbed to his feet, easily dodging the kicks and fists thrown at him. He saw Emily take off suddenly, and groaned inwardly. If she was going to get a teacher, the blame for this incident would only get put on him. It was three supposedly 'good' student's word against his – the outcast, the reject. Well, if he had to go down, he'd damn well go down swinging.

Enji spun around when the boys circled him and closed in, their fists pumping and their flushed faces disfigured with nasty scowls. A kick to Steve's gut; a right hook to Mark's face; a classy uppercut to Peter's jaw; a kick to Rob's chest. Enji breathed into every move, putting power behind every premeditated action. He eased out of his fighting stance and dropped his fists, surveying the groaning boys scattered on the ground around him. Mark was clutching his face, red liquid dripping through his fingers, and Peter was out cold as far as he could tell.

Enji didn't hang around to take in how much damage he'd caused with the other two boys. He snatched his backpack up and bolted toward the safety of the parking lot, trying hard to ignore the raw throbbing across his knuckles. If they told on him, he was going to be in so much ****...

His pace slowed down when he saw Emily heading right toward him, tugging a tall figure in red leather behind her anxiously. Enji came to a halt, and cringed when his father's eyes gave him a quick one over. There was murder in his gaze.

"I thought you were out working." Enji said.

Dante lifted his shoulders in response. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Enji said.

"Let's get going."

Enji followed meekly but not before sending an accusing glare at Emily. He slid into the leather seat and shut his door, fumbling with the lock for his seatbelt. He could feel Dante's eyes burning into him. Enji swallowed an aggravated sigh when Dante finally spoke.

"Have you had any more weird dreams again?"

"No." Enji said curtly, and jammed the metal piece into the lock angrily.

"Tell me if you do." Dante said, and turned on the engine.

"Get over it already, Dad." Enji grumbled, folding his arms across his chest. He shifted uneasily when Dante looked at him sharply. "I'm just saying, you're acting like a crazy person."

"Well this whole deal is ****ing crazy," Dante said, and Enji cringed. It didn't seem to take much to get his dad worked up anymore. "I think I know who you are."

Enji tensed, unnerved, and sent a cautious glance at him. "What?"

"I have a theory, about that dream you had. It would explain who you are. It would explain a lot of things."

"Dad, what the hell are you talking about? I'm not confused about who I am."

"No, but I am...was. You're Vergil. Reborn." Dante said, and shook his head with an angry smirk. "Of all the things..."

"Dad?" Enji said carefully.

"I'm not your dad, damn it, Enji! Don't you remember who you are?"

Enji paused, and turned in his seat to face Dante squarely. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see when we get home." Dante said in an odd voice.

"No. What do you mean you're not my dad?" Enji snapped coldly.

"I said you'll see when..."

"Stop the car." Enji said quietly, glaring at the man beside him.

"What?"

"Stop the ****ing car!" Enji exploded.

He was glad Dante obeyed, because when he leapt onto the sidewalk he found his body was shuddering with an inner war between his icy rage and his head; emotion that wanted nothing more than to release itself upon Dante; and the cool logic of his mind opposing the idea. He'd get floored. Dante was far more experienced than he was, and way stronger. Right that moment, though, Enji didn't trust what he was going to do, so he did the only thing he could. He walked away.

"Enji, get back here!" Dante called from behind him.

"Get lost!"

"Don't make me come aft... agh, damn it..."

Enji heard a car door open, and he hastened his pace. He stiffened when he felt a hand seize him by the shoulder, and he didn't offer any resistance when Dante spun him around. He knelt down to Enji's height, but he refused to look him in the eye.

"Everything will be explained once we get home. Don't be difficult." Dante chided.

"You know what?" Enji said, and finally looked up. "You can go to hell." He wrenched out of Dante's grasp, slowly backing away from him.

"Enji, get in the car." Dante said, his face hardening.

"Why? I don't have to listen to you."

" Listen..." Dante said, straightening up to his full length.

"This is ****ing wonderful. Like not having a mom isn't bad enough, now I don't have a dad either? Life is just getting better every ****ing day!"

"En..."

"Go to hell!" Enji shouted furiously. He'd stopped backing away and stood solid, every inch of his body burning to vent out the pent up rage it contained. One more step, if he took one more step toward him, Enji was sure he was going to lose control and try to rip Dante apart.

Dante didn't move. They stood several feet apart, staring at one another. "Enji, please don't make this any harder than it already is."

Enji pursed his lips together hard, and glared at the concrete by his feet. When he eventually tore his gaze from the ground to focus frosty daggers on Dante, his expression was a bland canvas of indifference. He lifted his hand, and took a step back.

"Don't follow me." His voice sounded as cold and sharp as icicles. Enji turned around, and simply walked away.

Dante lingered for a long moment, watching Enji's retreating back. He'd gone about this the wrong way, but then he didn't know how to tackle something of this magnitude in the first place. Dante let out a long-suffering breath, and ran a hand across his face in frustrated bitterness.

He knew it would be stupid to force Enji to come with him now – it wasn't that easy for him to admit the truth to Enji, and despite the circumstance Dante thought it had gone down better than he expected. No blood was drawn, at least. But his words had inflicted just as much damage as any sword would have. Enji needed time to cool down, and Dante wasn't going to disrupt that.
He'd have to call in Trish and Kyrie, though, to be the voice of reason when Enji gets back home.

If Enji came back home.