Cw-none! just a bit of angst..
a/n- My a03 is not set up yet, so I thought to share it here. This is just chapter one, heh. I hope y'all enjoy...
“A sunrise of new beginnings begs a day of new surprises,” Lucia murmured as she rubbed the coin that was given to her almost a whole decade ago. Years of gentle touch had smoothed its edges, just as time had dulled everything else she refused to let go.
Looking up at the sun as it rose, it kissed her skin hello. She closed her eyes, taking in the familiar sounds of the ocean. Her soft breaths were visible in the cold, salty air of January. She reminded herself that a new sense of joy was coming in soon. Mardi Gras. Much to Matier’s wishes, it was the only time of year she’d get to truly socialize outside of her commitments.
It was a tradition older than memory. Once a blessing. Now, a duty she carried alone.
The week of Mardi Gras brought as many horrors as it did bring in bright memories. Since Vi de Marli had a big chance of demons coming out from unexpected portals during this time of year, any visitor could be the new meal for the hands of a devil. Every year, it was the same. And every year, she stayed.
Lucia opened her eyes to the view of the sun completely out. She knew staying out for too long meant such thoughts would come back again. Thoughts that would lead to daydreaming and then pain that told her one day, he might just come. Just one more time.
She gripped the coin in her hand as she put it away. One more look at the sun as she hopped down from the roof, returning to the role she had chosen again and again.
Meanwhile, in a bustling city far from quiet shores, the sun rose over another.
It had been a while since Dante had come back home from his adventures with his long-lost brother. Devil May Cry, the ever-so home for him, was still dark, but with a sense of welcoming and familiarity in the walls.
In decades, for the first time, he had a sense of calm rush over him, the guilt slowly cracking away as he was reunited with Vergil—one wound finally closed, even if others remained. The horrors of feeling a part of him missing were finally lifted. Although one loose feeling still lingered.
One night, as usual, the ceiling fan was rushing cool air down to Dante’s face. He was tipping the wooden chair back as he was reading the latest magazine he had received in the mail, listening to some sort of music from the busted-down jukebox that had been constantly repaired.
As he tipped the chair, the floorboards creaked softly. Suddenly, a careless slip made the chair tip over completely. A layer of dust flew as he fell onto the floor with a thump.
“Damn it,” he muttered, staring up at the ceiling—and then beyond it.
As he stayed there looking up at the corkboard, he had always placed behind him. The angle showed a glimmer of light that hinted at a blade pinpointing a certain place on the map.
“Vi.. de Marli…,” Dante managed to huff out as he gave the map a good stare.
He tried to remember a face… No way he had forgotten the face already. Had he? It had only been a couple of months, and gosh, already the memories seem to slip away like always.
“Cruel man…” he whispered, one of the last words she had told him.
As every word flooded into his mind, he remembered one thing: those eyes... Ever so green that only led to regret. The question that came back once more was, “How much time has passed?”
After his second visit to the island, he had been thinking, as he looked at the dagger, a sense of yearning; it was almost like the air slowly getting sucked out of him, which was ironic, given how many stabs he had sustained throughout his lifetime. Yet, these were the few times he felt like his life flashing before his eyes.
He knew right about this time, Dumary would be having festivities since Mardi Gras. He wondered if the unexpected trip was worth it…Would she still feel the same—or had time spared her what it had refused to spare him?
Dante slowly got up, rubbing the back of his head. He looked up at the clock that ticked ever so loudly. The ferry to Vi De Marli hadn’t left the docks yet, and he could probably make it in time. He was contemplating his choices for a while. Since his broker and the two female devil hunters were out of town, it left him thinking. Time was running out, and a last-minute resort was needed; with some contemplation, that last resort was his only favorite nephew.
Soon, he was dialing the phone as he leaned against the table, tapping the table impatiently.
After waiting four rings, he heard a voice, and he immediately said, “Heyy kid, I have a small favor for you to do.”
Nero was confused by the sudden call at 8 p.m., thinking it was another crappy mess Dante had tangled himself into. “And that is?”
“I have some…business to follow up with, so come and look over the shop for a couple of days,” he says hesitantly, not quite sure how to string the words of this visit.
Nero sighed, a bit suspicious at such vague wording, and said, “Alright, then have a safe trip for whatever business you've got.”
As Nero was about to probe into this business, Dante ended the call, leaving Nero scratching his head in question. Immediately after the call, Dante rushed to fetch ebony and ivory and ran out toward the one place he had never quite escaped.
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