A/N: I've been looking forward to uploading this chapter since I haven't enjoyed writing a chapter like this in quite some time.

[New Perspective]

"Look, Verge. I picked up a new toy during the mission today." Dante interrupted his brother's silent and concentrated reading by poking the item in question between his face and the pages of the book.

It did not take long for Vergil's eyes to focus on the wooden material sitting on top of his pages, before he looked up in annoyance at his brother's rude interruption.

"Keep that away safely." He said, brushing the new toy away from his book quickly. "Don't play around with a witch's staff, because you can trigger anything without knowing how. I don't want to know how you got that on your mission, but the best thing to do with this is to sell it to another witch."

"This is a witch's staff?" Dante asked, drawing the weapon back and studying it with more interest now that more details had been revealed. "Cool."

Vergil didn't bother himself with his little brother as he continued his reading, but from the corner of his eyes he easily recognised that Dante had not heeded his advice and was currently swinging the staff around and pretending to be a wizard. For a fully-grown adult, Dante's brain had clearly not grown up equally quickly. Still, the chances of Dante triggering some sort of spell was rather low, considering the fact that Dante knew no spell phrase. Vergil knew one or two despite the fact that he was no witch, but he would rather die than to let Dante be aware of his knowledge.

"I realised that I actually have never tried using a staff as a weapon before." Dante observed, obviously talking to Vergil despite the fact that Vergil had done his best to make clear that he wanted to focus on his reading. Now, Dante was swinging the staff around, using it to stab invisible enemies instead of blabbering weird sounds trying to make spells.

"Be careful with that." Vergil reminded his brother, still not looking up from his reading, but able to hold a conversation nonetheless. "The jewel at the tip holds the most magic. If you break the jewel, you're going to trigger something you can't reverse unless you find another witch."

"Come on, Verge. Have a bit more faith in me, won't you? I'm a demon hunter, not a little child who can't keep his hands on-" Dante's fate with irony was legendary, because as he spoke and spun to face Vergil with the staff still spinning in his hand, the tip of the weapon landed on the corner of the table.

The sound of glass shattering drew Vergil out from his reading, but all he saw was a blinding flash of blue, and then he blacked out.

________________________________________________________________________________

Vergil stirred from his darkness after a short while, the remnants of a headache fading away as he put a hand on his forehead to rub away the pain. Irritation came quickly while the headache faded at the remembrance of all that had happened before he blacked out, and he sat up, opening his eyes quickly –blinking a few times against the light –to find Dante's face not very far from his.

What was strange was the complex expression written on Dante's face while blue eyes stared at him. It would be best described as wonder, amusement, confusion, and satisfaction. Unfortunately, there was absolutely no inch of guilt written in those blue orbs that stared back at Vergil, which irritated him even more.

"You should pray that nothing happened to-" The beginning of Vergil's threat was cut off halfway when he heard another voice say the words he had thought he said.

Surprised, because he was rather sure that he heard that voice coming from himself, he touched his throat and made a sound. "Aaa."

And stopped immediately when his fingers felt vibration. It was him. It was his voice... but it was girlish. It was much higher than his usual tone, and it was the sound of someone remarkably feminine.

"I sound like a girl now." Vergil commented in shocked realisation. "What did the staff do to me?"

"Uhm... you don't only sound like a girl, Verge." The reply came from Dante, and it actually looked like his little brother was having troubles keeping laughter back. "You are a girl now."

"What do you mean?" Vergil asked in reply, still not used to the voice that was coming out of him.

"You have boobs. Look." Dante pointed, and Vergil obeyed.

His brother wasn't lying. Two lumps were on his chest, and before he could do anything to confirm their presence, hands appeared in his view and grabbed one of the lumps. Vergil jolted at the foreign touch, and felt uncomfortable immediately when fingers squeezed.

"Wow. They're real." Dante commented as he squeezed a few more times just to be sure.

"Stop it!" Vergil exclaimed, not liking how high pitched he was sounding. "It's disturbing."

Dante sat back on his heels in front of Vergil, eyes full of amusement now.

"Can you check if you still have your... you know?" Dante asked, grinning shamelessly as eyes travelled downwards to Vergil's crotch.

The sudden realisation of Dante's words and the reality of all that had happened to him sank in and slapped at him. Vergil jolted in shock. He sat up straighter immediately to not have the need to use his hands to prop his upper body up, then tugged at the hem of his pants and brief together, looking.

"I-I... It's m-missing..."

Dante's explosion of laughter barely registered in Vergil's understanding. In fact, nothing except the words "I am a girl" sank into Vergil's understanding, and he could not process that sentence regardless of how simple it was.

"What the hell, Dante?" Another female voice –god forbid he had more than one female voice now –intruded. "Where did you find a fangirl crazy enough to do plastic surgery?"

"Fangirl?" The laughter that had only begun to fade away from Dante's body came back all over again, and Vergil looked up to see his brother having fallen all the way to the floor, rolling and laughing helplessly as he hugged his abdomen as if he was going to laugh some organs out. It was the type of hard laughter that could suffocate anyone, and sure enough, Dante's face was red with the lack of air because he could not stop laughing.

"Who are you?" Trish appeared in view now, looking down at the both of them, annoyed at Dante's lack of a comprehensible reply, and the presence of a woman who looked like she had seen something that couldn't be washed out of her eyes. Only Dante could make a woman have an expression like that, and Trish prepared herself mentally for the woman's story because there was definitely going to be something that she or Dante's brother would have to clean up for the useless man's sake.

"I am Vergil." The girl answered, looking up at Trish with very familiar blue eyes.

"Come on, I know you are a fan, but you at least have to have a name your parents gave you. Don't let them down by throwing away your own name like that." Trish urged, pulling the sitting woman up, and realising with surprise that she was almost of the same height. In fact, she had quite a body, though Trish wasn't sure why she was wearing men-styled clothes. In fact, the clothes on her seemed to be the ones that Vergil was fond of wearing.

"I am Vergil. My parents gave me that name like how they gave Dante his." The girl answered once again, looking at her hands as if she could not believe what she was staring at. "I have... disgustingly slender hands."

"Disgusting! Stop it, Verge, I'm dying here!" Dante exclaimed, and somehow the woman's comment had triggered another round of helpless laughter, and the half-demon slapped the floor with his bare hands as if it could help distract him from the cause of his laughter.

"Breathe, Dante, and tell me where your brother is. He'll clean up this mess for you, because I don't know how to deal with fangirls." Trish urged, annoyed as she looked around. She was rather sure Vergil would be around the house –the guy was a stay-home unless there was missions. Unfortunately, the missions that Vergil took were by some reason always very high paying, and that afforded the man to stay indoors for 28 days per month for most months of the year.

"My brother is..." Dante took an exaggeratedly large breath, then pointed at the woman. "Here!"

"Don't play me a fool, Dante. I'm serious." Trish scolded, but Dante didn't seem to be able to manage holding back the laughter more as he broke down again, rolling once more on the floor.

"Sit here, girl. I'll find Vergil for you."

"I am Vergil." The woman answered once more, crossing her arms across her chest. A flinch came when she felt obstruction across her chest, and she found that she could only cross her arms underneath the two lumps that had appeared on her chest, which quite frankly toned down the intimidating factor of crossing arms. "Ask me anything that only Vergil can answer."

"Good try, but I don't trust a fangirl's words." Trish said, turning away to venture further into the house.

"When we first met after I revived, you thought I was still playing Mundus's spy and tried to kill me." The woman said to Trish's back.

"Nice try, but Dante could have told you that." Trish answered.

"We watched over Dante's mission against the Fallen Angel together just in case he failed or needed saving."

Trish's footsteps slowed to a stop, but the woman didn't turn around. Vergil knew that his words were getting through slowly.

"The day after Valentine's Day, you threw away your ex-boyfriend's chocolate, but it was cursed. I helped you get rid of it." Vergil said, choosing the things that were supposed to be secret only between the two of them so that Trish could not possibly come up with excuses of denying him as Vergil regardless of his outer appearance.

"And what did you do after you got rid of it...?" Trish seemed to need more confirmation as she turned around slowly, a face full of disbelief as she faced the woman standing right where she had been left.

"I sent him back to Hell. Chained him to a loose Cerberus that we caught, and opened a portal for the Cerberus to drag him back." The woman answered, and Trish backtracked, disbelief hitting her strongly now. It couldn't be, but... "After your ex was gone, we back to your house and we got -"

"Enough." Trish cut off before more could be said, remembrance of that day making her go red slightly. "We promised that we wouldn't talk about what happened after that."

"You needed confirmation." The woman shrugged guiltlessly; the same way Vergil would do.

"What the heck happened to you, then? How the hell did you become... How did you get such a hot body that if I were still human, I would have killed to get?"

"Ask Dante. He was playing with a witch's staff, he hit it against..." Vergil faded off in realisation, looking around for the weapon of crime. He wasn't surprised to find it on the floor a short distance away, dismayed to find the jewel at the tip shattered. "I expect some sort of spell came out of the staff when he broke the jewel like the complete idiot he is, and hit me straight."

"You know, I can't take you seriously when your voice sounds so cute." Dante had finally gotten his composure back together as he climbed slowly to his feet, face still looking uncertain as if he might break out into helpless laughter again anytime.

"Shut up." Vergil snapped. "You're the cause of this mess. Go look for someone who can reverse this."

"I'm sorry, Verge, but I really can't take you seriously when you have that body and voice. Even your threat sounds like something I'm going to like." Dante slowly regained his helpless grin. "I think you right now are basically what we could have been if we were female."

"You better stop saying something like this." Vergil frowned. He hadn't been sure, but was silently relieved when he extended his hand, and his summoned sword still appeared in his slender hands. "I might have changed but I still have my powers, which means I can still make you regret your words."

"Please make threats to me with a bra on, Verge." Dante answered, completely unafraid of the sword. "I can see your nipples, and I get distracted even if you are my brother –I mean, sister. Don't blame me, I'm just a healthy man."

"I don't have a bra." Vergil answered, looking down and realising that Dante had been right. Because he had moved his arm, his shirt was now pressing lightly against his chest, and he could easily see two dots appearing at the tip of his lumps. "What the heck am I supposed to do?"

"It's getting late. I have to go before I get thrown into another nightmare created by Dante." Trish interrupted the brothers' conversation, approaching Vergil with a piece of paper. "Meet me at this address tomorrow at 10. Bring money."

The address written on the paper did not strike a bell, but Vergil took all the help that anybody was going to give to him at this moment. He wasn't sure what bright idea Trish had to help him, but if he was going to trust anyone to lend a helping hand, anyone that was not Dante was always the better choice.

"I'm going to go take a drink." Dante followed behind Trish's leaving self. "Now that the amusement is over, this is actually getting a little bit disturbing. I can't help but imagine you being a girl now, and I don't want to, so I'm going to drink to make sure those thoughts go away."

"You're just taking any excuse you want to drink."

"Whatever you say." Dante bade his goodbye quickly. "Remember, girls sit down to pee."

Never once would he imagine that he would admit something like this, but it was a good reminder for Vergil.

________________________________________________________________________________

"You have got to be kidding me." Vergil said, checking the address written on the piece of paper, then the shop that he found himself standing in front of.

"I'm not." Trish's voice made him turn around to find the woman having just arrived herself. "Look at you. You're going to cause a row of accidents with what you're wearing."

"I thought you were going to help me change me back, not bring me to a lingerie shop. I'm not sponsoring to buy you bras." Vergil answered, crossing his arms under his breast again.

"Stop that." Trish instructed, pulling Vergil's arms and forcing them to the side. "I don't know what the spell that made you a woman is, but it gave you a very generous pair. Your clothes are doing it too much praise without a bra, and you've probably made a river of nosebleed from your journey here. I passed by a few guys who were wiping blood off their noses moments ago."

"It could be the noses I broke." Vergil answered, still frowning but resisting crossing his arms in annoyance this time. "They were whistling and cat-calling. When I ignored them, they tried to get their hands in the wrong places."

"You're a ticking time bomb, I swear." Trish rolled her eyes. "Now you know why we have to wear torture devices to hold our melons everyday even though they are the biggest pain ever created."

"I never asked for this." Vergil stated. "If you're not going to help me change back, then I'm going."

"Just come, Verge." Trish sighed, already opening the door to the lingerie shop and pulling her friend inside.

The inside of the shop was a pastel pink, and Vergil was already turned off at how feminine the whole place looked. He had passed the shop many times in his travels to town for other things, but there had never ever been a need for him to step inside. There had never been any proper need for any guy to walk in. Until now.

"Hello, how may I help you today?" The shop attendant was a politely smiling young woman.

"My friend here is –as you can see –not wearing a bra today. She actually hasn't worn a bra her whole life, and it's really not fair for heaven to give someone like her such big boobs. But for some reason, she has been given them, so can you please help me measure how big those two gigantic things are, and teach her how to take care of them so that they don't sag like plastic bags?" Trish replied sweetly.

"Wait, you can't say that my breasts are gigantic. Have you seen yours?" Vergil replied. "They were like a cloud pillow when I laid on them during the time we-"

"I told you, we are never going to talk about that again." Trish cut off, then pushed him towards the shop attendant who still looked a little taken aback by the demand made. "Now, play nice to the girl. She's going to help you, so smile and look nice."

"I don't need helping, at least not for bras!" Vergil's protest was unheard of as the shop attendant did her best to start on the task assigned to her.

For the next hour, Vergil found himself in a new type of Hell that he never knew existed in his neighbourhood. It was a type of Hell that was actually revered by female-demons like Trish, and it included all sorts of terminology that he had never heard before in his entire life.

"So, you mean to say that your kind put metal in this thing... to hold the breasts up?" He said in disbelief, picking up the article of clothing that had been labelled a D-almost-E cup. He still couldn't understand exactly what the cup sizes meant, though he had learnt quickly that the bigger the alphabet, the bigger the boobs. But there was so much else that was different, the measurement above the breast, on the breast, and underneath... why was there a need for so many measurements for two mounds of fat stuck onto his chest?

"Yes, listen when we are explaining things to you, Verge." Trish affirmed impatiently, picking up another piece nearby. "Because of your gigantic tits, you definitely need to get one with wire, or they will be sagging like there's no tomorrow once you get jumping around. But do you want to get this push-up one, because they will make those D cups look like E cups? Or maybe that one, because the lace is just gorgeous. And that pink one has a pretty design by the edge. Maybe you should get a set, though. You'd always want to be prepared with matching bras and panties just in case you decide to have a little fun on the bed."

"Push-up?" Vergil picked the only words he could catch because he already found himself lost halfway in Trish's speech. "Why the hell would I want to push up these lumps? Isn't there a way to downgrade these things so that they don't get in the way when I do things? Does your kind have some sort of push-down ones instead?"

"Don't be funny." Trish answered, picking out yet another one from the pile. "This one looks good on you."

"It's going to be underneath my shirts."

"A pretty bra makes a woman confident." Trish answered, then switched the one she had in her hands for another. "This one is good too, and the design is cute."

"If I ever have the need to draw confidence from an article of clothing that goes underneath my shirts, then my name will cease to be Vergil Sparda."

"Keep saying that, but you will eventually get what I say. A good bra is like a second skin. We'll get this one for you, because the material is good. You're going to thank me sometime in the future for this."

"Thank you for bringing me on this trip to Hell?" Vergil answered in disbelief. The shop attendant had already backed off and was attending to other customers after having done her best to explain things to Vergil. But for all of his intelligence, the difference between a push-up, a normal bra, a comfort bra and a seamless one didn't sink in. Far as Vergil knew, they were all cloths used to cover up the nipples and lumps stuck on a woman's chest.

"You haven't seen real Hell yet." Trish answered, picking a few and finally moving to the counter where an already-tired Vergil followed to the best of his abilities. "Excuse me. We're getting these. And also the one she's wearing on right now."

"I'm still not used to this thing here. The time where I wore a bandage on my chest was way more comfortable." Vergil said, reaching underneath his shirt to adjust the semi-tight material clasping his lumps to the rest of his body. "Are you sure we got the right size? It still feels like something is digging into my ribs –By Sparda, why the hell are these meagre scrap pieces of cloths so expensive? What did you guys put in there? Gold?"

"Welcome to my life, Verge. Now you understand why I have to charge things on Dante's account? A girl never has enough money for her own clothes, especially when she has to pay extra just because her boobs are bigger than the average." Trish said sadly, but there was no expression of sorrow whatsoever as she handed over the credit card that she had confiscated from Vergil early on in the shopping session.

"Aren't there cheaper alternatives? At this rate, I think I will eventually just buy rolls of bandage to wrap around these things." Vergil answered, watching as the money was charged on his card, and the products were packaged. There were even a few lacy underwear that Trish had insisted looked good in a set with the bras bought. Vergil thought there was nothing wrong with the briefs he was currently wearing, but Trish had made him take even that off and replace with a smaller triangular cloth that fit him slightly better because of the missing male organ.

"You will just find more work." Trish answered, thanking the shop attendant sweetly and accepting the bag for Vergil's complaining sake, leading the both of them back out into the street where Vergil breathed a heavy sigh of relief at having finally escaped the Hell on Earth. "Let's hit the next one."

"Next one?" Vergil's female voice was very good for a feminine screech now. "Are you kidding me?"

"No." Trish replied with a wide grin, still holding Vergil's credit card under hostage. "I haven't had a shopping partner in ages, and now that I have your card, today is my heaven!"

________________________________________________________________________________

"I never knew that Hell had evolved to such a form." Vergil complained as he took slow, uncertain steps. He was finally on his way home, and his exhaustion was on another level that he had never experienced before. Never had he been this exhausted on a mission before, and he was sure that this one had halved his lifespan.

"It was heaven for me." Trish answered happily by his side, her strides still smooth and confident. In fact, the state of happiness that Trish was in was one that Vergil saw rarely, and it kept the woman's head up and bright as they made for home. Trish was currently his escort, and much as it embarrassed him, he needed that escort right now, because he could fall flat on his face anytime.

"How the hell does your kind walk on these things?" Vergil paused again –the hundredth time in his journey ever since the abominations had been forcefully strapped on his feet. "Who came up with these torture devices?"

"It's all practice. Everyone has problems with them at first. Don't worry." Trish answered understandingly, but Vergil refused to see her more than the reason for his pain because not only had she forced the heels on him, but she had also made sure that he was dressed in the same tight fashion as her. It was the first time Vergil had ever been dressed with so many things exposed. The top he was wearing was so short and tight that he had been very sure that someone had mistakenly thrown a child-size shirt in the pile. While the shorts fit his ass perfectly, they were so short that he was sure if he still had a male organ, it would be hanging out in full view. And to top off the ridiculous outfit he had been forced in, the heels were the biggest source of hell.

"What I don't understand is why your kind insists on wearing something like this. Aren't we already taller than the average woman in this country? What is the need of wearing something like this?" Vergil started courageously once more on unstable feet. The torture devices strapped to his feet were constantly threatening him with broken ankles, reminding him of their presence with every step he took. In all, he had never known that walking could be such a painful effort until now.

"It accentuates the walking posture and emphasizes the leg line." Trish answered knowingly, but none of the words sank in. Like the many times before when Trish was explaining how each type of clothes showed off different things, the words simply entered through one ear and escaped through the other.

"Forget I asked." Vergil muttered as he continued his painful walk. He couldn't believe that he once thought dying to be the most painful thing he had ever experienced. No, that wasn't even close to this torture he was going through right now.

His lamenting about his current situation was interrupted as the both of them came to an abrupt stop, exchanging looks to confirm what they were both feeling. Trish nodded, then dropped and rested the shopping bags against the wall beside them, summoning her guns. Vergil followed suit, summoning his swords as well.

"The group isn't big, so try not to fall. If you are tired, just take a break. I'll clear the crowd for us." Trish instructed as the demons began crawling from the ground, sending the small human traffic scattering in all directions and leaving only the two of them on the street.

"I am a demon hunter by profession and a son of Sparda." Vergil protested. "The day I cannot defeat these low levelled demons is the day I cease to be a son of Sparda."

"Woman, you can't even walk a straight line on those things without taking a break." Trish reminded with a grin. "You aren't a son of Sparda right now. You are a daughter of Sparda."

"By Sparda, don't say it like that." Vergil groaned, but no more words could be exchanged as the demons finally began to attack them –recognising them as the only ones still around as targets.

Thus began to most terrifying and most difficult fight with the demons that Vergil had ever gone through. Despite the fact that his body and power still worked similar to his male version, the fact that he had basically shrank a little (because of the lack of muscles), the fact that he was wearing heels, and there were two padded lumps stuck on his chest that he constantly forgot while he swung his swords around; they all appeared as handicap in the favour of the low level demons.

Too many times while dodging, Vergil forgot that he had some extra burden stuck to his chest, and felt his tight clothes loosening on the front.

"You spent money on those clothes; don't let the demons get them!" He heard Trish's order somewhere in the crowd of demons.

"It's the heels that's keeping me off my balance!" He protested in a shout, almost toppling over while backtracking. "I feel like I'm hunting on a whole new level of difficulty!"

"Welcome to my life! Think about the people who expect me to do this with grace." Trish's reply was closer now, and Vergil blinked when a hand grabbed his wheeling arm, pulling him back upright while the free hand unloaded bullets on the demons around them. "That's also why I do long range as much as possible."

"Good idea." Vergil decided that taking things physically wasn't going to do any good to him –or the tattered clothes on his body. Summoning his power took no effort and he summoned a rain of swords around them, making sure to keep clear of the both of them. The crowd of demon was gone in the few mere seconds that Vergil took to stabilize himself and shake off Trish's hand on him politely. "I wish you told me that sooner and saved me from ruining the clothes."

"You better cover up yourself, or you're going to create multiple rivers of nosebleeds again." Trish answered, sending her guns away and shrugging off her iconic leather jacket. It was only on her words that Vergil looked down at his inconvenient breasts, realising that his tight shirt had been sliced in many places, even through the costly bra, with his nipples peeking through. Not protesting anymore, he shrugged on the offered jacket, making sure to zip up.

"I never imagined that I would say this to you, but I have a newfound admiration for female demon hunters."

"Thank you for the enlightened admiration." Trish answered with a grin, picking up their shopping bags. "It feels good to be admired by a son of Sparda for demon hunting."

"Is this why most female demon hunters prefer to use guns? Lady specialises mostly in long range weapons as well."

"It's just personal preference. We girls are born with what we have, so we don't find the boobs an inconvenience." Trish answered. "But if you are still admiring us, I guess you should give more admiration to Lady. She's a bitch with money, but she's a human, female bitch who knows how to hunt demons."

"Point taken." Vergil answered, never stopping to actually realise how capable the seemingly weaker Lady actually was. He had always measured the other demon hunters according to his standards and deemed them mostly weak –except for Dante and possibly Trish. But knowing now that the ladies were doing the same thing as him but with heels and two lumps attached on their chests was giving him a whole new perspective.

"You know, this is actually quite fun. For me at least." Trish picked up another conversation as they continued down the road as if nothing had happened. Somebody would go around cleaning up the mess of demons on the street eventually, and perhaps Dante would happily volunteer to go around collecting the money of ridding these demons from the government.

"It is good to know that at least someone is having fun from my torture." Vergil sighed.

"I haven't had a shopping partner in ages. Lady and I don't match in personality and fashion preference, and the other demon hunter ladies dress like men."

"It is a wise choice."

"It's a shameful choice." Trish corrected. "Who said demon hunter was a guy's job only? Women can do it well to. And look good doing it."

"Only you and Lady look good doing it." Vergil answered.

"Don't try to give me your honey words. We are the only two women you have seen in the demon hunting sector so far." Trish knew the truth, so he didn't try to protest against that. "But maybe you should get Dante to video you while you hunt demons sometime in the future. You actually have a good figure while fighting; just that you probably need to dodge a little further to avoid getting any slices on those gigantic tits."

"It's not happening." Vergil replied firmly. "This is not going to last. I'm going to find the witch who owned the staff and get her to change me back. I refuse to be a daughter of Sparda. My mother gave birth to twin sons; I'm not going to change that fact."

"Keep wishing." Trish laughed in reply, the happy sway in her hips still there. "Good luck."

________________________________________________________________________________

It had been a week; a painful, terrible week in which Vergil had to endure sexist comments from Dante, had to remember that things worked differently for men and women, had to remember that he was missing a male organ and had to go into the ladies toilet instead of the men's... the exhaustion of learning to be a woman motivated him to stay at home for the first time in the entire week.

He was thankfully alone and heels-and-bra-free as he sprawled his abused self on the couch downstairs, just watching the ceiling fan turn. There had been absolutely no lead in finding the ex-owner of the broken staff. Dante had picked it up from the floor on the way home from his mission that fateful day, and there was no trace or evidence pinpointing the owner. Vergil had asked around; even gone into the witches' community to ask if anyone had lost a staff, and if there had been any visitors that anyone knew of. But no; there hadn't been any clue at all.

"By Sparda, please don't let me stay like this. Even if there is anyone to be punished for this, do it to Dante." Vergil prayed to absolutely no one. He had never been a believer in any gods, but for the first time, he was beginning to hope that some divine being somewhere could come for him.

Then, as if he were the epitome of irony's fate, the doorbell rang.

Sighing to himself and already lacking the emotional energy after having gone out every day in the previous week and holding back against punching the countless men who had approached him for similar reasons, Vergil got off the couch and made for the front door to find a young man almost his age standing nervously at the doorway.

He seemed startled to find Vergil answering the door, then tried to avert Vergil's eyes by looking down. Vergil remained silently watching as eyes accidentally looked straight to Vergil's new breasts, and a familiar-looking flush started to crawl up the man's neck.

"What do you want?" Vergil asked with no politeness. If this man was another flirt trying to ask him out, Vergil was going to lose his control.

"I h-heard that someone from this office is asking around... about a staff." The reply was so soft it was almost a whisper but Vergil's demonic hearing still worked well.

"Staff?" Vergil repeated in confusion. "We're not hiring."

"N-No, not human staff. A m-magic s-staff. I l-lost mine a week ago."

The confession immediately sank in as Vergil realised that his prayers were answered.

"The staff is yours? You're a wizard?"

"Y-Yes..." This man was the most unconfident wizard that Vergil had ever seen.

"Of course. I always assumed that the staff belonged to a witch. No wonder no one from the witch community heard of anyone visiting."

"W-Wizards are rare... We prefer to stay out of others' lives..." The man's reply was still unsure, but Vergil didn't care.

"Come in. We have it." Vergil instructed, grabbing the man's hand by his side and tugging him in.

"It's probably not p-polite for me to come in if you're home alone... M-Miss..." He protested, but Vergil's demonic strength made it impossible as he stumbled in.

"There's no need to be such a gentleman." Vergil answered in reply. "What's your name?"

"M-Michael..." Vergil had never heard someone sound so uncertain about his own name before.

"Michael. My name is Vergil, and I need your help."

"I-I will be happy to help..."

"Very good. Sit here, I'll get your staff." Vergil dragged the man to the couch, then rounded the low coffee table in front of the couch. He remembered the last time he saw the weapon of crime was when Dante stashed in underneath the table to 'take up less space'.

Bending over, Vergil stretched to reach the staff.

He was just done retrieving it as he heard a faint "Oh, no."

Looking up, he was surprised to find Michael's face completely red, and blood beginning to drip from his nose.

"What's wrong? Do you have a fever or something? You've been red the moment since we met." Vergil asked as he climbed to his feet, dropping the staff on the couch beside the man. He normally wouldn't treat any stranger so nicely, but the wizard was the owner of the staff and the only person with the possibility of changing him back to his normal self. It would be terrible if the man were to come down with some disease or another and curse Vergil to living out more days as a woman.

"N-Noo..." Michael squeaked. "I-I-I'm okay. J-Just a little hot..."

"I'll get you a cup of water." Vergil decided quickly, rushing to the kitchen to grab a cup before hurrying back.

Thanks were stuttered as Michael took a small sip, and returned the still rather-full cup to Vergil who turned to rest it on the coffee table. Unfortunately, one week had not made him remember that he still had two lumps on his chest, and he made a small sound of annoyance when he accidentally bumped the cup by the side of his breast, and water splashed over his white shirt.

"Ugh, these damned things." Vergil cursed as he set the half-full cup down on the table and did his best to wipe the water away with his hands even though it could actually achieve nothing. Still, it was just water and nothing harmful, so he turned back to Michael to see if the wizard had recovered from his heat.

Eyes widened when Vergil turned back, and Michael jumped up instantly, hands flying up to cover his nose and mouth.

"I-I-I will c-come back some other d-day!" He said, running to the door quickly. "I-I'm sorry for having intruded on your privacy!"

"What are you-" Vergil's shock was coupled with a sudden realisation as he looked down and found out the reason behind Michael's red face. The water had made the white shirt translucent, and his shirt was now sticking to his bra-less breasts, nipples pressing against the translucent material thanks to the water.

"Wait." He couldn't be bothered anymore about flashing his tits, and Vergil put on his demonic speed to intercept the fleeing man. Catching the man by his shoulders, Vergil spun Michael around, but the whole situation went a little too fast for the both of them as Michael tripped over his own legs and fell forward.

"That hurt a little bit..." Vergil complained as his hand went up to rub the back of his head, lying uncomfortable on the floor. It took a split second to realise that his chest felt uncomfortable, before he could look down at what was applying pressure against the mounds of fat, something liquid fell on his cheek.

He looked up and saw a familiar face, but it was a deep crimson red now. The nosebleed that had only just started the last time he saw it was now a clear rivulet, and because Michael was on top of him, another droplet of blood fell on Vergil's cheek as their eyes met.

Vergil was made aware that the uncomfortable pressure on his breasts had the impression of a hand when five fingers squeezed a little on both sides.

"Are your hands on my breasts?" Vergil asked.

"I-I'm sorry!" Michael shouted, but it seemed like the nervousness was making the man's hand clench even more.

"Don't be! Look here and smile for the camera!" A new voice intruded on them, and both of them turned in surprise at the newcomer that neither had heard come in the room.

There was a flash, and Vergil blinked the temporarily blindness away quickly to find his brother standing a small distance away, a wide grin on his face with the camera between his hands.

"Great shot, Verge! I'll print it out and give one to Trish and frame the other up." Dante announced happily. "Smile for the next shot."

Vergil sighed and knocked his head against the floor once more, closing his eyes in defeat.

He might have gained a new perspective as woman for the past week, but Dante's perspective of him was never going to change.