[The Boy's True Father – Part 1]

The air in the old joint was stale and Dante let out an explosive yawn as he stretched, having just roused naturally from a post-sleep nap. The sound of light patters of raindrops against his window was comforting and it was otherwise silent all around him as he finally moved himself from his seat at the table, feeling the soreness of having fallen asleep in an uncomfortable position.

Climbing to his feet slowly and tottering towards the couch where he could spy the head of a  blond head rested on the arm of the couch, any third person audience witnessing the scene might have mistaken Dante for a man in his elderly ages by the way he took small, old-man shuffles.

"Oi woman." He said, his voice rough from the long sleep and post-sleep nap.

Trish didn't stir from her nap as well, but it was clearly almost evening –given the darkening of the skies that was not attributed to the light drizzle going on outside the window.

"Oi, woman." Dante repeated again, this time tapping the woman's head.

"Mmm... Leave me alone. If you're horny, go find Lady. I don't feel up to it today." The sleepy answer came as Trish tossed on the couch, keeping her back to him and the rest of the world as she curled up towards the soft material.

"You always say that, but when I put the moves on, you just get it on right away." Dante answered, still feeling half-awake as he tapped her once more on the head in a semi-affectionate move before shuffling his feet towards the mantle this time. "Where's Lady? Is she getting us dinner?"

"I don't know." Trish's muffled reply was a good indicator that she had yet to slide back into her nap. "Job in the afternoon. Tomorrow's your turn."

"Ah, shit. Tomorrow's job is a Hellcatcher." Dante cursed quietly as he retrieved his wallet and keys. His guns laid shiny and gleaming against the overhead lights, beckoning his touch but unfortunately Dante's journey out of his residence had nothing to do with demon hunting and more to do with finding food for sustenance for not only himself, but also the ladies that lived with him.

Though none of them had bothered with the boring proceedings of formalizing and registering their relationships, the ladies and Dante knew that they were stuck with each other for life. Instead of having to care only about himself and his well-being, Dante had more or less gotten used to the fact that he now also had to care about the ladies in his life. Of course, it also worked the same way around, though most times he found himself being cared for more than him caring.

Trish's lack of reply to Dante's curse meant that she was either too sleepy to continue the conversation, or that she had no intention to comment about his reluctance to work, and it was all fine with Dante as he threaded his arms through his coat, stuffing his wallet into the pockets while stepping towards the door.

His hand reached for the door knob, but was surprised when it turned before he could come into contact, and the door swung open.

"Who is that? I mean, whose is that?" Dante's first comment was curious, because he certainly did not expect to see the door opening to find his other partner standing there and holding an infant against her shoulder.

"Shh, you don't want to wake him up." Lady hushed quickly, thrusting a basket into Dante's hands, then pushing the man aside as she hurried into the relative warmth of the joint. Dante studied the contents of the basket –surprised to find some blankets with the obvious indent of an infant's weight, some diapers, an empty milk bottle and what seemed like babies' clothes.

"Is he yours? I mean, is he ours?" Dante's first worry was vocalized quickly as he shut the door, rushing to join Lady who had installed herself near the heater, warming up the sleeping bundle in her arms.

Dante's question had been well-placed; he had caught a glimpse of the very small tuft of hair growing on the baby's head, and they had been white strands. As far as Dante knew, he was the only person with natural white hair (not attributed to age) with an active sexual relationship with Lady.

"Can you just use your brain even if it's just for a little bit?" Lady asked with a frown. "Have you seen me pregnant anytime in the past 9 months?"

"I don't know; maybe some ladies out there don't have any obvious bumps." Dante answered honestly, standing close to observe the baby as it rested its chubby face against Lady's shoulder. "Also, you're the only human person I've stuck it with in the past 9 months. Trish as a demon can't give birth, so you're the only one possible of carrying my seed."

"You don't have to state the obvious." The sound of a sarcastic tone of voice made a surprised Dante spin around to find the previously-napping woman fully awake now and stalking towards where the both of them stood close to the fireplace, eyes tagging on the peacefully sleeping face of an unfamiliar infant. "And I second Lady: can you just use your brain even if it's just for a little bit?"

"What do you mean? Why am I being attacked here?" Dante spun around, giving a helpless look at how his partners had suddenly turned around to unleash verbal assault on his apparent lack of wits.

"I picked the baby up." Lady sighed, shaking her head at the hopelessness of a man she had somehow –she still didn't know exactly why –chosen to spend the rest of her short human life with. "At. The. Doorstep."

"Oh. But it can't be my child because I haven't been going around spreading my seed. But that white hair?"

"There's an envelope in the basket." Lady pointed out, and Dante looked down to realize that Trish had already reached in to retrieve the said item, slender fingers and long manicured nails making quick work of the sloppy seal over the envelope.

"Money." Trish announced as she upturned the contents in her free hand to show a sizeable wad of cash in rather large denomination. "And a letter."

There was no need to read aloud who the intended recipient of the letter was, since it was written in big font "To: Dante Eva Sparda".

"Dante Eva Sparda?" Lady scoffed, still making sure that the bundle in her arms was napping away despite their conversation. "Whoever wrote this certainly remembered your middle name well."

"It was Mom's name." Dante grumbled in response despite the fact that it had to be the hundredth time he was being made fun of having a female middle name. Still, no further prompt was required as he opened the letter up, beginning to recite it aloud.

"Dear Dante, the child's name is Luca. I have included money for his expenses, along with some diapers and clothes for him. I believe the ladies you have chosen to spend the rest of your life with will know what else to get for him with the money. I am leaving to find his mother and will send you money when I can. Watch him." Dante paused as if he had reached the end of the letter, but seemed to spy something else written at the bottom of the paper.

"Dear Ladies, don't let him grow up like Dante. Signed, V." Dante concluded, looking up from the piece of paper with a face full of disgust.

"Does it kill him to just put a "Thanks and sorry for throwing you my child"? What are we, a child-rearing service?" The complaint was ignored by his audience, both of whom seemed to be engaged in their own wordless conversation through eye contact alone.

"What? What is with that look? Are the two of you mentally communicating about where the nearest orphanage is?" Dante demanded, knowing deep in his guts that he wouldn't like whatever conclusion the ladies were coming to despite not even exchanging a single word.

Dante had seen this mental conversation unfurl before: it had been when they decided without even consulting the owner of the Devil May Cry joint himself to move in to live with him. Although that decision turned out to be for the best –Dante having gained himself a pair of ladies who took turns with him to buy food and pay the bills –Dante hadn't liked the decision made without him involved in the first place.

"He told us to not let Luca grow up like you." The ladies must have reached a satisfactory conclusion to their conversation, because Trish nodded with a growing smile, turning away with the wad of cash still in her hand towards the door while Lady responded to Dante's question. "The only way we can do that is to watch over him closely."

"So what; we're seriously adopting that thing?" Dante helplessly tracked with his eyes Trish's journey to the coat hanger where her going-out bag hung, her stuffing the cash in it as she slung it over her shoulder. The demon was clearly in a very good mood after the mental conversation, because she was almost whistling as she drew out a pair of stylish sunglasses –despite the fact that it was evening and the outside was already overcast with light drizzle –from her bag, fixing it over her eyes easily.

"This thing is your nephew." Lady answered. "Besides, your brother gave us money and clearly said he would be sending more money. We would be swindlers if we continued to receive his money but leave his child at an orphanage."

"Verge's the damned swindler! He left that thing at my doorstep with money and he expects us to automatically adopt it?"

"I believe the pronoun to use for this 'thing' is a 'he'." Lady corrected calmly, turning away at the sound of the front door closing quietly behind Trish. "Now, if you have nothing better to do, go make yourself useful and get us some dinner."

"Didn't Trish just leave with the money? What is she getting?"

"Supplies for Luca." The answer was simple as Lady finally decided that they had stationed by the fireplace long enough for the sleeping baby to warm up in her arms, turning away to make for the master bedroom. "And remember, until we get a cot for your nephew, you're sleeping on the couch."

________________________________________________________________________________

"It's just you and me, Little Bastard." Dante enjoyed the freedom of saying whatever he wanted as he held the familiar small hand in one hand, and the familiar imprint of the hilt of his broadsword in the other hand.

The short years had taught Dante to make sure that the space between each step during walking could match the furiously pattering of a toddler, and his progress was painfully slow since Luca had insisted on walking (with supported guidance from Dante) instead of being carried as usual.

"I am not Little Bastard." Luca had recently learnt and was clearly putting into practice his vocalization skills given the way he was doing his best to make sentences to express himself better than just words. "Luca is Luca. Mama will scold you."

"Not 'Mama'." Dante corrected shortly, finding himself speaking in short sentences whenever around his nephew to allow the young one to better understand him. "Aunt Trish or Aunt Lady."

"Aunt Trish scold you." Luca corrected; a childishly serious look sent to his uncle while distantly reminding Dante of the boy's father. It had been practically Vergil's iconic look to give the hard stare with no real emotion on unblemished features, and though Dante had not seen his brother in person for many years by now, he could still imagine the same expression clearly in his head upon watching Luca.

"Well." Dante didn't know how to make to clear to his nephew that even if Trish tried to lecture him about calling his nephew a bastard, their relationship was too strong to be ruined by something so small. Besides, Dante's habit of name-calling was something that his partners had long gotten used to.

"Aunt Trish, Aunt Lady, where?" Luca spoke with his tone inflected as a question, giving Dante's hand a small tug to regain Dante's wandering attention while the two of them made slow progress down the empty street.

"Work." Dante answered. "We had a clash in schedule and all three of us have work. That's why you're here with me; I got the easiest job and all I have to do is leave you somewhere safe and hope you don't pee your pants while I kill some demons because I didn't bring diapers."

The long sentence clearly went straight over Luca's simple mind as the young boy tilted his head in light confusion, an expression of innocent unknowing making the boy look like an angel despite the three years of hell he had given Dante since arriving at the doorstep of Devil May Cry.

"Trish and Lady have work." Dante rephrased his long explanation. "You and I, we are working today."

"We work?" The excited smile spread like butter on the face of a boy who had always heard of the word 'work' being coined between the adults, but never knowing what it actually meant.

"Not you. It's dangerous." Dante answered shortly, stopping when they finally reached Dante's intended destination: beneath the canopy of a café that had clearly gotten the notice –along with all other residents and shop owners in the vicinity –to close for business for the day while the town dispatched their resident demon hunter to clean up the tricky problem of a demonic portal appearing out of nowhere. Thankfully the café had not bothered to keep their garden chairs, and thus Dante helped himself to one, dragging it out onto the pavement and angling it towards where the demon portal stood in the middle of the street, still quiet.

Lifting the three-year-old boy off the ground by hands under his armpit took no effort at all as Dante sat the boy on the chair, making sure Luca was well-adjusted and comfortable.

"Stay here and don't come to me." He warned, making sure he used his serious-voice because they had all been training the young one to understand when his guardians were being serious, and when they were joking around. "No matter what happens, don't come to me."

"Why I don't come to you?" Luca asked cautiously, the happiness of being brought to work giving way to trepidation at Dante's serious voice which was not put on display often.

"Because it's dangerous. Can you promise me you won't come to me, Luca?" Dante continued to make sure the serious atmosphere was being held.

Between the ladies and him, they had done their best to make sure that there would at least be one person free to watch over Luca while the rest took on jobs daily. Due to inevitable clashes in schedules –very much like what was occurring today –they had been forced to bring Luca along on a few jobs previously. But back then there had been little worries since Luca was too young to understand what was going on, and was usually coaxed into sleep before the job started.

Unfortunately for Dante this time, Luca was old enough to remain awake while Dante worked, and had grown old enough to be curious and excited about Dante at work, putting Luca at a real risk of running right into the heart of danger.

"I promise." Luca answered honestly, and Dante could only pray silently that his nephew would remember and honor the promise as he put his back to the young one, stepping quickly to the portal. With each step he moved closer to the portal was each step that the portal recognized a demonic energy approaching, and it began to spin at increasingly higher speeds until it appeared like a whirlpool-like tear in the fabric of reality.

Dante made sure to look back at Luca whose eyes had grown wide with wonder at the spinning whirlpool. "Stay there, okay?"

"Ok, Uncle!"

Satisfied with the answer and determined to make his work quick to allow less time and chance for Luca to come running towards him while the demons were still around, Dante tapped onto his well of demonic power and made sure he activated just enough to set the portal going.

It was all too soon that Dante found himself engaged in a rather easy demon-hunting session while Luca kept his excited, impressed gaze on the figure in red dancing amongst the weird-looking shapes that seemed to be trying to approach his uncle. Adolescent mind did not register that the weird-looking shapes were dangerous, but still he was impressed at the figure of his uncle as Dante jumped and slid around fluidly, swinging and thrusting his sword with style.

Deciding that it was too boring to stay seated, Luca jumped to his feet on the pavement –but did not go running to his uncle because he remembered his promise. Instead, imagining himself in the shoes of his uncle, Luca began to do his best to mimic the jumping, swinging and stabbing motions of his uncle, kicking air and executing fake-dodges with a few seconds' lag-time after his uncle.

"Ha!" Luca vocalized along with a kick and a punch. "Hyak!"

Delighted in his own imaginations of doing artful acrobatics and demon-killing, the toddler was so caught up in his world of fantasies projected onto his uncle that young Luca forgot about the ledge of the sidewalk. Baby feet lost balance at the sudden drop in elevation and went sprawling forward face-first.

The first instincts to cry and wail bubbled to Luca's lips, but the young boy had been through situations like these honestly enough times to know the drill. Whenever he fell and succumbed to his instincts to cry for attention, none of the adults in the house ever gave him care.

Thus, despite the tears welling up the corner of his eyes at the stinging pain in his knees and palms from the scrapes he had received, Luca bit his bottom lip hard as he crawled into a sitting position, checking the extent of the damage.

"Ouchie..." Luca mumbled quietly, blowing at the bright red patch filled with ugly scratches. The introduction of air made the wound sting even more, and Luca's tears threatened to burst the dams.

"Good job keeping the tears in, Luca." The voice that came from his side surprised him as he blinked watery eyes up at the familiar face.

"Uncle! Luca never cry!" The boy declared proudly as hands that was surprisingly gentle threaded beneath his armpits and gave him the help he needed to find his feet. Luca balanced himself gingerly while doing his best to ignore the pain radiating from the scraped knees, and when he was satisfied that his knees would not fail him, he looked back up at the familiar face and spread his scraped palms towards his uncle.

"Luca got ouchie, but Luca never cry!" The toddler announced, terribly pleased with himself. The confidence grew further when a gentle smile appeared on his uncle's serene expression, a thumb wiping the corner of the boy's baby eyes to get rid of the excess moisture that had been threatening to overflow.

"Well done."

"Uncle finish work?" Luca questioned, beginning to turn around to survey the results of his uncle's acrobatics. Unfortunately, he was not allowed to do so as hands landed on his shoulders and turned him back to the awaiting man who had come down on one knee in an attempt to be on a levelled line of sight with the boy.

"You don't want to look over there now, it's not pretty." His uncle said, still with a gentle smile that Luca didn't see often.

"Uncle happy? Why you smile?"

"I'm happy to see you safe and sound. I'm happy because you have grown up very well." Came the answer as Luca tilted his head in curiosity.

"When Luca eat lots, you say I'm pig and make you no money. Now Uncle is happy?" The innocent question seemed to have taken an edge off the smile and Luca could sense that something had changed slightly in the air.

"Now I am happy." The man answered in affirmative. "Continue to eat as much as you want and be as happy as you want. Don't worry about money."

"Ok I not worry about money! Uncle and Aunt Trish and Aunt Lady worry about money, so Luca no worry." The boy answered happily at the go-ahead from his parental figure to go ahead to do whatever he wanted.

"Good boy." The man paused then one hand removed itself from Luca's shoulders to pull a toy sword out of nowhere, offering it to the young one. "Because you were such a good boy, let me give you this."

"REALLY?" Luca might be the age of being able to mostly understand a conversation, but he certainly had no guards up against anyone baiting him with gifts or toys as he grabbed the offering without hesitation. his 'ouchies' all but forgotten. "Thank you, Uncle! Luca always good boy, so always give Luca toys!"

"That bastard... teaching him all the wrong manners..." The man muttered beneath his breath, but was too close to be missed by the young boy.

"No bastard! Luca not Little Bastard! Luca is Luca, not Little Bastard." The boy protested, having been called the name enough times to be sensitive to the word itself.

"That son-of-a..." The curse was cut off in care of the ears of a young toddler. "Never mind that. You are not a Little Bastard."

"Yay! Uncle promise not call me Little Bastard?"

"No promises..." There was hesitation, but the man was quick to change the topic as he positioned himself behind the boy, closing big hands over the small ones over the toy sword. "Now, let me teach you a move that will help you one day in future."

Gentle but firm hands made sure that Luca's tiny ones were sandwiched between them as they guided Luca's arms up and backwards.

"Remember the words: Judgement Slash." He instructed, making sure to say the words slowly for the young boy's premature brain.

"Jud-ment... Shrash?" Luca tried, struggling to look up at the man but having troubles with his arms raised up and back and kept there.

"Judgement, Slash." The man repeated slowly. "And once you say it, you bring the sword down quickly."

With the instructions given, a jerk was given on the arms and Luca found himself forced to bring the toy sword down in a diagonal slash quickly. Amazement filled the young boy when the imprint of a slash seemed to whoosh out from the tip of the sword upon the movement, and made a scar on the sidewalk in front of them.

"WOW!" Luca dropped the sword once the man's guiding arms were gone, and ran to the scar on the sidewalk, feeling it with his fingers to make sure that it was not just an optical illusion drawn upon the cemented pavement. "Luca made this?"

"You did." The man answered with a proud smile, picking up the sword and returning it to the eager grips of the boy.

"Judgement Shrash!" Luca eagerly tried again, but this time no effect came as disappointed eyes went up immediately to his parental figure in question.

"It takes practice." Came the answer. "If you practice swinging the sword and pronouncing the words every day, one day you will make a proper Slash that can cut buildings into half."

"Really?" Eyes glittering with the promise of something much greater was almost too innocent to bear.

"Really. I... I mean your father can make a Slash that can cut open realities to make portals."

Luca didn't catch the strange hesitation.

"What is portal? And what is cut reality?" Luca tilted his head in confusion.

"Never mind that." The man seemed to be distracted with something else -something that was occurring behind Luca. "Remember the Slash, and remember to eat well and grow up well. Be happy always, because I couldn't make you happy."

"Uncle?" Luca asked forlornly, still gripping on tight to the sword. "Where you going without Luca?"

"Stay there, and wait until I come back." The man responded quickly. "Remember our promise?"

"More work?" Luca questioned, nodding.

"Yes, more work." The man answered with an affirmative, straightening back up and giving a pat on the boy's head. "I have to go. I will come back when I can, Luca."

"Ok!" Luca grinned, waving his free hand exaggeratedly. "Come back soon!"

The man hurried off quickly, and Luca did not give it much thought as he focused once more on the toy sword that had once made an impressive, real cut on the floor.

"Jud-men Shrash!" Luca shouted loudly, naively believing that the louder he did it, the more powerful the cut would be. Unfortunately, nothing happened as the boy swung the toy sword up and down a few more times with the hope of squeezing something out of it.

"What's got you screaming your head off like that? And what's with Jud-men that you wanna slash?" The intruding voice came back a short while later, and Luca looked up once more to find his uncle approaching him again, his sword safely holstered in his back.

"Uncle! You back!" Luca greeted happily. "Show Luca Jud-men Shrash! Again!"

"Show you what?" Dante asked in confusion. "Where did you get that toy sword? Did someone come while I wasn't looking?"

"Huh? Uncle give sword. Uncle teach Jud-men Shrash." The boy tilted his head in confusion. "Luca make that."

At the boy's pointed finger, Dante's attention was drawn to the thin indent made on the floor nearby, a suddenly pang setting off within him. Had one of the demons gotten close to his nephew without his realization?

But upon closer look, it did not seem as if the cut had been anything demonic –it was too clean a cut to have come from the jagged blades of demons. But who else could have done such a clean –but small –slash on the ground? It had certainly been done without much demonic energy, or Dante would definitely have noticed a disturbance in Luca's direction and gone saving his nephew immediately.

"Uncle? Luca make Shrash... Luca bad boy?" The uncertain, slightly-afraid tone of voice from the boy took Dante's attention again as his focus shifted back to the toy held tightly in Luca's hand. It was not just any toy sword simply bought off a shop like that... it was a toy sword that had the slight hint of energy vibrating within it.

It slowly made sense; what Luca was talking about "Jud-men Shrash".

"That bastard." Dante cursed beneath his breath, looking around quickly but holding no hopes in finding the man anywhere. "That son-of-a..."

"Luca not bastard. Uncle promised." Luca spoke up, once again sensitive to the accusation made against him.

"Not you, Little Bastard." Dante sighed as he resigned himself to the fact that the boy's father clearly still had no intention of coming back for his son just as yet.

"The bigger bastard is still out there."

________________________________________________________________________________

"I'm home." The announcement was paired with an earth-shaking bang of a poorly-abused door, successfully jolting a sleeping man from his sleep.

"I told you about slamming doors, Luca." Lady was quick to lecture as she entered the main area of the joint to greet the young boy. "Feeding Dante is already costing us a fortune; we don't have enough to spare fixing doors... Also, what the hell happened to you?"

"A fight." Luca stood by the couch, turning to his maternal figure and flashing a grin that had a few missing teeth. Thankfully, Lady knew that the lack of teeth had not been the result of any fight, but the result of the boy's natural change from baby to adult teeth.

The colorful bruises, scrapes, cuts and swollen bumps dotting the young boy –paired with dirtied, scuffled and torn clothes –were the result of the fight, though.

"Did you win?" Dante asked quickly, not bothering to be angry at being rudely awoken from this pre-nap nap. Ever since picking up the boy 7 years ago, Dante had learnt that whatever sleep he could get while the boy was around was practically God-sent, and that being rudely awoken for all sorts of things had become a routine at this point.

"You should see them." Luca answered, proudly flexing his demonic arm which seemed to be the only appendage of the boy who had escaped any form of damage –not that anyone had expected otherwise. The boy's blue arm was not human after all. The skin on the boy's arm was similar to the hardened skin that Dante had while he assumed the devil trigger, and thus everyone in the small family knew that that strange arm was probably the last thing to be injured in any boys' scuffle.

"Did you send anyone to the hospital?" Lady asked worriedly, though the worry had less to do with the boy's current situation and more about the chaos that he had inevitably caused.

"I don't think so." The boy answered honestly, but seemed to think over his words shortly after, a looking of quick pondering. "Does bent arms need hospital treatment? I think I also popped an arm out of the joint, but those are easy to fix back in place without hospital help, right?"

"Who needs hospital help?" The question preceded the entrance of the last member of the family as Trish walked in from the door behind the boy. "And why are you looking so dirty, Luca? Did you win the fight?"

"I did." Luca spun around to greet his other maternal figure, regaining his proud grin once more. "The boys at school said my arm was disgusting. They said I am not a human with my weird arm, so I let them know how human I am."

"Remember what I said about showing people how human you are?" Dante cut in, too used to the reminding the boy of his boundaries that it had now become a habit.

"Yeah. I can do anything as long as they don't die or come to ask us for compensation." Luca answered with the tone of someone who had heard the nag from his uncle too many times, but still maintained his grin when his second mother-figure in the family brushed by him with an approving thumbs-up and a wink, bringing in the groceries.

"Well, you may have won the fight and escaped being dragged to the hospital to pay for treatment for now, but you're still dirty and bloody. Go wash up and clean yourself up before you even think of taking a seat anywhere." Lady instructed quickly –the more domesticated of his mother figures –as she accepted the bags from Trish. "And throw out your clothes –they are too far gone for salvage. Trish, you bring him shopping tomorrow."

"Yay." The more fashionable of Luca's mother figures cheered softly.

A few hours later, a fresh-faced Luca who had cleaned off his wounds, changed into a new set of clean clothes and dinner settled in his stomach sat down on the couch in the middle of the joint.

"Uncle, Aunt Trish, Aunt Lady, do you all have work next Friday?"

"Hmm?" Trish was the first to respond, spending a short moment to think. "I think it's Dante's job that day, but if it's urgent he can probably reschedule."

"Great. Can you come to my school?"

"Go to your school? Why would they want demon-hunters like us there? Did you do something that the principal is forced to see us for again?" Lady responded, looking up from cleaning the gunshot residue from her guns.

"No. It's Parents Day at school and I want you all to go. Aunt Trish can go as my mum, Aunt Lady can go as my mum or dad –up to you. Uncle... I don't care if you come or not." Luca answered with a hopeful look, pointedly ignoring the instant protest from his uncle.

"You little shit, I won't go even if you begged me." Dante promised, but his words were unheard as Lady put her guns back down on the table uncertainly.

"I... Luca, you know we can't be regarded as your parents. We've told you many times; we are your aunts, and Dante is your uncle. We cannot go as your mums or dad." Lady started uncertainly.

The struggle of simply accepting the young boy's affection and love in the capacity of a parent had been something the three members of the Devil May Cry office had experienced often in the past 7 years of their lives with the boy. Still, all three adults had come to a quick consensus that for the sake of the young boy's future, they had to put their foot down and draw the line clearly for Luca.

They were Luca's aunts and uncle, not his parents. Even if they were the ones taking care of him since his childhood, they were not his parents. Even on paper, they could not be his parents for fear of tainting his future with their names. Being the son of Sparda, Luca was destined to be graced with all sorts of stellar character traits and abilities, and neither Dante, Trish nor Lady wanted their name and reputation to hold the boy back from his bright future.

Unfortunately, that meant situations like these in which Luca expressed his desire to acknowledge them as parents... and their heartless rejection of the same.

"Why not? You can just pretend to by my mum. Or dad. Whatever you want." Luca answered.

"We have been very clear to you on this, Luca. We are your aunts, not your mum or dad." Trish helped, the slightly stricter one between them. Trish was a demoness in the truest sense of the word when it came to discipline, but Luca had honestly had not required much disciplining in the past 7 years.

"I don't understand." The 7-year-old boy was understandably confused at his own position in the family. "I am like your son. You take care of me, give me food and clothes and teach me things. That's what the other people do for their kids, and they're called 'mum's and 'dad's. Why can't I?"

"Same way you have a blue arm and nobody else does." Dante spoke up, hiding his face behind his magazine because he was terrible at things like familial arguments like this. "You're special in all the good and bad ways. Mostly bad, actually."

"I don't get it. I'm ok with this weird arm but I can't call you mum and dad? You can't even come to my school? Is there something about that place that you don't like? If my teachers or principal look at you funny, I can make them not do it. It's easy."

"It's not the school, Luca." Trish answered calmly, the comment about the boy 'making' his teachers and principal not look at his aunts and uncle funny flying over the heads of the adults. "It's about you treating us like parents. We are not your parents, and you need to accept that."

"I don't want to! I just want to have a dad and mum! I wanna call someone Papa and Mama! I am your child; so let me call you Papa or Mama!" Luca jumped to his feet angrily at the rejection from all three adult figures that he had trusted and relied on for the past 7 years of his life.

"We've told you a million times before; you can't-"

"It hasn't been a million times! I don't know if you said it to me before I could understand words, but ever since I understand words and numbers, you've only told me a hundred and sixty-seven times!" Luca interrupted in a shout, hurt and angry tears crowding at the corner of his eyes.

"Luca..." Lady's soft-spot was clearly struck at the sight of tears from a boy who had learnt not to cry at small things long ago.

"I wanna call you Mama; why is it so hard?!" The boy exploded, then dashed out the door; another earth-shaking slam concluding the argument.

A long moment of uncomfortable silence filled the room as the three adults processed the boy's hurt words through their minds, struggling to cave, but also struggling to stay true to their own promises.

"If we have to pay for fixing the door in the future, I'm making Luca do part-time work to pay for that." Dante finally broke the silence with a loud sigh. "Besides, what's so hard about calling us Uncle and Aunts? He's been doing that since he could speak."

"He's at that age." Lady spoke up sympathetically. "All his classmates have mums and dads, and he can't even call us that."

"But to scream at us and run away like that." Trish spun around to give Dante a look that held more meaning than what her words carried. "I wonder who taught him that."

"Hey hey. What are you looking at me for? I didn't teach him to be like that." Dante protested in quick self-defense, lifting the magazine back up to create a physical barrier from eye contact from either lady in the room.

"No, you only taught him to be a coward." Lady answered, and Dante didn't even have to wait long before the magazine was once more stolen from between his hands when Lady threw it on the table in front of him. "Why do I suddenly remember the past of a certain half-demon who spent half his life running away from his heritage and pretending to be a human just so that he wouldn't be identified as the son of a traitor?"

"Those are completely different circumstances." Dante defended, sitting up straighter with indignance. "Pretending to be human was much easier."

"You taught Luca laziness and cowardice, then." Lady concluded, leaning against the corner of the desk with her arms crossed and looking down at her partner. "What haven't you taught him?"

"Why is this about me?" Dante protested, confused as he looked between Lady and Trish –both his partners sending him gazes that spoke of their instructions. "Why is it me? Trish; you were the one who pissed him off."

"I didn't teach him to shout at people and run away." Trish answered. "Go calm him down and get him back before bedtime. If he doesn't sleep enough and doesn't wake up in time tomorrow, you're responsible for bringing him to school."

"What..." Dante's soft protest was unheard of, and he had honestly been through situations like these too many times to even bother trying to weasel his way out. Sighing heavily to show his extreme reluctance, Dante dragged himself to retrieve his coat from the rack, then trudged slowly out of the door.

There were not many places that Luca could run to in the middle of the night, and Dante was not surprised to find the boy standing in the middle of the small empty field behind their joint where they often used as training grounds to teach the young boy skills of self-defense. With his back to Dante and only the overhanging moon as the source of light, Luca's hands were gripped tightly over the hilt of his wooden training sword, swinging.

"Judgement Slash! Judgement Slash! Judgement Slash!" The boy was chanting, repeating his actions over and over again with fervor as small slashes appeared at the end of every swing, travelling short distances through the air before dissipating. Dante had no doubts that the boy could sense him coming, but Luca must be too angry to care as the boy simply forced himself to release his rage via the least violent way possible.

Dante remained silently watching for a long period of time. Eventually, the Slashes came slower and weaker as time passed, the boy himself having worked up a sweat and steadily becoming more tired from the workout.

"You're getting better." Dante decided to start the talk with some praise –because Luca was, like him, weak to praises.

"Getting better is useless. You won't recognize me as your son." Luca grumbled, apparently still not having let go of the anger entirely.

"You didn't even want to recognize me as your father." Dante retorted as quickly, but was equally quick to shift the topic of conversation in case they ended up in another petty argument. He was here to get the boy to go back and prepare for bedtime, not chase the boy out further. "But you're smart, Luca. You don't understand it yet, but in the future you will understand why we don't allow you to recognize us as your parents."

"I'll call you Uncle and Aunt in the future. Let me call you Dad and Mum now since I don't understand."

"That's an insult to your father, and I don't think I have enough life left in me to deal with him if he comes back and find that I've replaced him." Dante answered honestly.

"My father again." Luca sighed, clearly too tired to try holding grudges against the man who was his uncle, but had acted as his father figure for the longest time. "I always suspect that you and Aunt Lady conceived me, but you were too cowardly to admit that it was you who made her pregnant, so you call yourself an uncle instead of a father."

"You wish." Dante chuckled at the admission from his nephew, the young boy he had actually learnt over the years to treat more like a son. "If I was really your father, you'd have turned out way worse than you are now."

"I still have Aunt Lady and Aunt Trish, so I won't be terrible." Luca answered confidently, having calmed down enough to engage in friendly banter with Dante.

"They would be much busier working for money, so they won't have time for you. You refuse to acknowledge your father, but you have to admit that he's the man who has been steadily giving us money to take care of you. Without his money, I would have sold you to some old rich couple while the ladies were asleep." Dante said, not afraid to confess his real thoughts to Luca.

"There's that too." Luca agreed, displaying a maturity that was honestly not fit for a 7-year-old. Unfortunately, Luca was not just any 7-year-old; he was the offspring of a son of Sparda, and had been brought up by another son of Sparda, a demoness and a gun-loving human woman. "Is he still giving you enough money?"

"It's never enough." Dante answered honestly.

"Right. We have to feed your pizza addiction." Luca nodded. "But even if I have nothing else to be grateful to him for, at least we have his money."

"There's actually something else." Dante decided that it was probably time to let the boy know the secret –although it wasn't much of a secret in the first place. Besides, Vergil's only instructions to Dante concerning Luca was to take care and watch over the boy. There were no instructions about keeping Vergil's existence a secret.

"What? He hasn't even shown his face around even once."

"He actually has." Dante answered. "You were too young to recognize the difference between me and him, so you thought it was me. We're twins, after all."

"Huh? He came to me pretending to be you? But if he came, I would have remembered seeing two of you." Luca's confusion was understandable, because the 3-year-old version of Luca had been more adorable and innocent.

"That Judgement Slash you've been training every day; he was the one who taught you that. Judgement Slash was his signature move, so I knew it was him immediately when you suddenly came to me saying you knew how to make one." Dante confessed. "And if you're still counting the details, he also gave you that toy sword that you loved when you were younger. The reason why it could withstand you and your rough handling for so long was that he had imbued some of his demonic energy into it."

"So what." Luca scoffed. "I won't recognize just any guy as my father just because he gave me a sword and taught me how to do Judgement Slash. I don't remember that day clearly anyway."

"It's probably still too early to expect you to go running to hug him and call him 'Dad', but at least you acknowledge that you have a father that's not me." Dante shrugged. "That's the best I can do."

"I won't accept him." Luca promised, though the boy was completely calmed down by now. "As far as I'm concerned, you're a better father than he is."

Dante could not help the laugh that escaped his lips at Luca's words.

"I can't say that I am a better father than he is, but at least I can say that Trish and Lady won't even let me be a proper uncle anymore if we don't go back now. You're going to miss bedtime and wake up a monster tomorrow if you dally here any longer."

"That's good." Luca grinned. The boy was much too intelligent and mature for his age, but there were still moments in which he displayed childishness in the way his emotions could shift quickly.

"If I'm a monster, then at least you're the uncle of a monster. I like that."