Vergil's OneShots (DMC Fanfiction)

School's Out, Cool's In

A/N: We're back to the Vergil that we're slightly familiar with. I've been experimenting a little too much on the different persona that Vergil can fit in, and writing about Vergil as protective, man-of-few-words but still powerful as hell still fits in perfectly.

[School's Out, Cool's In]

You wake up to the sounds of the bell ringing, and realise that you have yet again slept through another class. The slow realization that you have slept through your last period of the day sets in, while you sleepily roused from your uncomfortable position, groggily packing the materials of the day into your bag while the world bustled around you, eager to move on and leave you behind. You are semi-sure that some of your friends had bade you goodbye, but you are not really sure if you managed a proper polite goodbye wave or something along that line of greeting in reply.

The classroom was cleared in a matter of minutes, leaving you alone and still slowly packing up. To see a sleepy and groggy version of you throughout lessons was already something that was expected and a common-day experience and thus no one had tried to wake or stun you back to reality. It was a routine that you -and them- were already used to.

It was a routine that started a few years ago, when you turned fourteen. It had been your first brush with demons.

They had killed your entire family in one night. Actually, it wasn't even one night. It was half an hour. The only reason the fourteen-year-old you had managed to survive was only because you had been hiding in the closet at the time it happened, never daring to make a noise and crying silent rivers of tears, swallowing cries and screams while praying to survive.

Eventually, you did survive, but your parents and little brother had not. It had been a completely horrible point of time in your life, and you had been left with absolutely nothing. Since you were the adopted child of the family and neither of your foster parents had specifically written a will to dedicate their assets to you in any situation of untimely death, none of the family inheritance could go to you; a perceived simple outsider.

For a few weeks afterwards, you sank quickly into shock that set deep into your soul. You were unresponsive for a long while, and while physically you still continued to meet your daily needs, emotionally, you were completely bare. Temporarily, you were put up in a shelter at a nearby orphanage while the authorities sorted things out.

Then came your saving grace.

They came unannounced out of the blue one day, and showed papers with evidence so strong that no one had been able to resist or question the validity of the papers. By the end of the day, you had your things packed once more, and you found yourself on the cab with what turned out to be your true blood brothers, on your way to your new home.

Both of them recognised at that time that you were still in deep shock and didn't bother trying to explain the situation to you, simply allowing you to mope around the small apartment above the joint called Devil May Cry; a joint that your new brothers ran to earn their keep. You had initially been in such shock that you couldn't remember their names at all; simply recognising them by the clothes that they wore: black/blue and red. After a while, you progressed to recognise them by their hairstyle: one a spiky, slicked back and the other letting everything go haywire and becoming a messy yet still charismatic mop on his head.

Your wake-up call came one day after you woke up in the middle of the night, screaming and crying from nightmares of your ex-foster family being murdered by demons again. It had been the fifth time, and both your brothers had run straight into your room for the past four times, expecting some sort of danger, but only seeing the poor you crying your eyes out.

But the fifth time had been the last straw for your eldest brother. He had immediately sheathed his katana back into its sleek sheath, and with the same hand that had been holding his sword only milliseconds ago, it had made an imprint on your right cheek.