Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

The King's Name is Vergil

A/N: Hello, I am doing fine.

[The King's Name is Vergil]

Little Dia had no idea what was happening, but she was too afraid to cry as she remained in the kneeling position that her mother had forced her into. She was uncomfortable with her forehead pressed to the floor, her knees and legs tucked awkwardly underneath her, but Dia remembered that her mother had slapped her outside the door and warned her to remain silent before they had come in.

The adults were talking in serious tones; there were clearly many people who sounded shocked, angry and unhappy as they talked, then shouted. Dia's mother was also speaking in an angry voice, her hand still pressed on the back of Dia's head to force her to the floor, and she did not dare to move.

Dia did not know how long she stayed like that, but the blood had flowed to her head in her position, and she knew she was dizzy when her mother finally grabbed her shirt collar and pulled her upright again. The sudden change in position made Dia unable to see clearly in the blood rush, and she blinked and struggled to understand what was being told of her. Her mother said something, and Dia must have been expected to react accordingly, because when she did not react in time, she felt her mother's stinging hand on her cheek again.

"Look at that man!" Dia's mother shouted when Dia turned back to her again, holding back tears in her eyes. Fearful, Dia followed her mother's pointing finger to find a man with his leg crossed and leaning against the arm of his chair on top of a few steps, looking down at the both of them with nothing written on his face. His white hair and blue eyes reminded of Dia in the mirror, but there was a cold glow in them that Dia was afraid of seeing.

"Open your mouth and call that man 'Papa'!" Dia's mother hit her on the back of her head this time.

"P-Papa..." Dia stuttered, the meaning of the word uttered sinking in. This man was her father.

Dia had seen her mother with many adult men, and they had always been doing things that Dia did not understand – undressing each other and rolling with each other on the bed and putting their mouths at weird places. But all those men had left after they finished rolling around, and when she tried to call some of them Papa –she had heard the little girls from town call the adult men they walked on the street with –the men had laughed or ignored her. Dia's mother had always hit her and scolded her for trying to call them Papa saying about how none of those men would want to be a father to an ugly thing like Dia.

Now Dia's mother was telling her to call a man 'Papa'.

Now that Dia was looking up at the man that her mother had pointed at, she realised that they were surrounded by many people who stood in a crowd, pointing at her and talking amongst themselves. The strange finger pointing and chatters made Dia even more uncertain about her situation as she did her best to shuffle closer to her mother, but not too close in case her mother hit her again. Her mother never liked it when Dia got too close to her voluntarily.

"Her eyes and hair are unmistakeable."

"So it is true... he has a daughter..."

"Then doesn't that mean that she is the princess, heir to the throne?"

The unfamiliar words made Dia reach for the hood of her dirty jacket to pull it over her hair like how she had been taught to do so every time she stepped out of the house. She had tried to ask her mother why she could not show everyone her hair and she had to look down to avoid letting people look at her eyes, but her mother had always told her to shut up and follow instructions or she would not get any food.

"Don't be stupid, your father wants to see your hair." Dia's mother scolded, slapping her hand sharply and grabbing the hood and jerking it back. Dia did not complain about how that action made the front of her shirt dig into her neck and she stifled a cough because her mother did not like her making sounds.