Emptiness

by Kika

The wind slapped Vergil's coat wetly against his legs, the altitude at which he was standing making the weather seem much more extreme than any summer thunderstorm had any right to. He frowned and resisted the urge to peel the clingy fabric away, knowing that it would only happen again as long as he remained turned the way he was, deliberately facing away from the only entrance onto the roof.

He surveyed the rather bleak landscape surrounding the tower, and when nothing remiss caught his attention, he closed his eyes for a brief moment in an attempt to ground himself, to prepare himself for the battle that was about to occur. It had never worked before, but he always tried anyway, hoping that perhaps this time would be the battle in which he could face his brother coldly, without any memories or emotions getting in the way of his objectives.

The press of a long-absent familiar presence in the back of his mind informed him of Dante's arrival long before he heard loud boots clomping onto the roof. The twins had always shared a slight mental connection; sometimes it was strong enough to communicate clearly with words, while other times only the strongest emotions made it through; either way, it always made their fights more interesting.

Never one to worry about stealth, Dante marched brashly onto the roof, seemingly as relaxed as if he were walking into his own home. Dante had always been a good actor. No matter how tense or frightened he was, even as a child, he had never allowed it to show in his demeanor. When he was a child he had covered it by being overly loud and annoying; as an adult he maintained an overly relaxed atmosphere about himself, even as he faced one of the few people alive who stood a chance of killing him.

"Go away! Leave him alone!" Dante yelled loudly, though he carefully kept his distance from the children who had been taunting his brother. Vergil raised an eyebrow at his twin's behavior; the teasing had not been bothering him, it never did. Why would he allow mocking coming from mere humans to bother him? But as usual, Dante rushed to his rescue anyway.

All the other children would see was a boy standing up for his twin, and doing so bravely, with the physical power to match his words. Dante had his hands bunched up into fists and his face twisted into a fearsome scowl, but only Vergil saw the fear in his eyes. Not fear of the children; no, fear for them, fear of what he knew he could do to them if he really did have to fight one away from his brother.

But he would do it, and both twins were painfully aware of that. Dante would fight to protect his brother, the brother who never quite understood what he was being protected from.

Vergil growled and tightened his hand around Yamato's hilt. He had not even seen his brother yet and already it had begun.

"What, no welcoming comittee?" Dante asked lightly from behind him. "I was expecting a few hordes of demons before gaining the privilige of facing off against you again."

"Why waste demons that we both know do not stand a chance against you when I could use them against someone else in the future?" Vergil pointed out logically as he turned slowly to face his brother.

"That's assuming you have a future," Dante said with a smirk. "You're the only one who has gone up against Rebellion and lived to tell about it, you know. Even your luck can't hold out forever."

"I could say the same," Vergil replied, fingering the hilt of his katana lightly, "though I believe you've had the honor of tasting Yamato's edge, have you not?" Few would have noticed the slight tightening of skin around Dante's eyes, but little, if anything, escaped Vergil's notice when it came to Dante.

Sparks flew even in the rain as swords wielded with superhuman strength clashed, the flow of power between the brothers nearly visible in the darkness. They seemed to fight on automatic, with movements so fast that it seemed planned in advance who would strike where, and how the opponent would block accordingly, for it seemed impossible that a fight at such inhuman speeds could really be improvised. Vergil knew, though, that even the slightest slip could mean a severe injury, even death for one or both of the twins, and despite the fact that he was fighting his brother of his own accord, he could not deny that the thought of Dante's death still sent a shiver of apprehension through him.

Vergil stood back and watched as Dante fought for control, saw the fists clenching and the jaw tightening. He could not quite bring himself to feel the anguish he could see in his brother's eyes, but even he felt something in him recoil at the sight of the girl's body.

"Dammit, Vergil. . ." Dante trailed off as his voice cracked a bit, though whether it was his adolescence or simply emotion coming through, it was difficult to tell. "Why the hell did they do it? Its bad enough that they killed her, but. . ."

Vergil stepped forward and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We did not even know her," he pointed out softly. "Her death is regrettable, of course, and we will find the demons that did it, but--"

"It doesn't matter that we didn't know her!" Dante exclaimed, jerking away from Vergil's touch to whirl around to face him. He gestured at the body and Vergil glanced down at it once more simply out of instinct; he took in the lifeless face, the twisted limbs, the blood and other evidence in places that suggested she was subjected to whipping, burning, and even more vile forms of torture before her death. "Sure, we didn't know her," Dante continued, "But someone did. Maybe she had parents, or brothers or sisters, or a lover somewhere. They're wondering where she is right now, wondering when they'll see her again. . ."

Dante finally pulled his eyes away from the carnage on the ground before them and met his brother's eyes. "Maybe she meant the same thing to someone that you mean to me, that I mean to you. Did you think of that? What if that were one of us down there. . . what if it was--" Dante stopped with a choked off sob as Vergil stepped forward to wrap his arms around his brother, supporting most of his weight as he collapsed against him, crying brokenly onto his shoulder.

"You know that empty feeling we get in our heads when we're far apart?" Dante asked quietly, his voice slightly muffled by Vergil's coat. Vergil simply nodded, knowing his twin would feel the movement. "I just keep thinking. . . if something like this happened to one of us, that emptiness would be forever. I don't think I could handle that."

He was holding back. Vergil knew Dante's strength and speed, knew it as well as his own, and he knew instinctively that they were both holding back. He had long ago admitted to himself that neither of them was ready to kill the other; they were both subconsciously hoping for a more peaceful resolution to the conflict between them. He knew that Dante feared that emptiness as much as he did, though he knew just as well that neither of them would ever admit such a thing out loud. However, it was impossible to hide such feelings through their mental connection.

But by the same token, Vergil could not ignore the determination he felt emanating from his brother, and he knew that if he continued to threaten the humans' safety, Dante would eventually reach his breaking point and would unleash all his power against his brother. In a way, Vergil was growing tired of waiting for that day. He knew neither of them would ever back down, so better to die a quick death or recieve a quick victory than to draw out the pain.

He knew that Dante thought that his holding back was a selfishness; he was keeping a dangerous demon alive in an attempt to delay the inevitable emptiness that would come with his death. Vergil was also being selfish, though. If he unleashed all his power against Dante at that very moment, he stood a good chance of killing his brother -- but instead he fought on equal ground, delaying his goals and slowing his aquisition of power. Vergil's selfishness was delaying his own goals, but Dante's was causing the suffering of humans. Given where their respective priorities were known to lie, it was really impossible to tell which would break down and give his all first.

Whoever it would be, though, it was not going to happen today. After hours of fighting, both half-demons were at their limits as the sun began to peek over the horizon.

Drenched in both sweat and blood, the brothers both let their swords drop as if on an unspoken command, watching each other from a safe distance.

"You know this will just happen again," Vergil said, even his cool tone coming out as slightly winded.

"And again, and again, and again," Dante added, leaning some of his weight on Rebellion. "Or you could just give up and admit I'm stronger," he said, without much hope in his voice.

"I may be many things, Dante, but I am not a liar," Vergil said calmly, breathing steadily to maintain his cool demeanor until his brother had left.

"Have it your way, then," Dante said with a shrug and a poorly concealed sigh. "But as long as you and your demons are hurting humans, I'll find you, you know."

Two young boys curled together in a hollow of an old tree, tucked away from the curious eyes of the townsfolk in the forest near the town. Their silver hair, ragged appearances, and haunted eyes had been drawing more glances than the brothers were comfortable with at the time.

"Hey, Verge?" Vergil tightened his arms around his brother to show that he had his attention. "We're different from them, aren't we? Father. . . Father wasn't like everyone else."

"No, he wasn't," Vergil replied. "He was better. He was stronger than them," he said stubbornly. "We will be too, someday."

"But. . ." Dante paused uncertainly before plunging on ahead in his usual gung-ho fashion, "If Father was so strong, why did he have to leave? I know they didn't like him, but if he was stronger. . ."

"He left because he wanted to," Vergil said simply. "If he'd been here, Mother would not have died like she did. He could have protected her, protected us, and we would not be alone now." He fought to control the anger in his voice, but Dante could feel the tension coming from his brother as clearly as if it were his own.

"But we're not alone, Vergil," Dante said after a few moments of silence. "We're both here, and we'll take care of each other, just like Mother said to. Right?"

Vergil could not help but smile at his twin's trusting tone. "Of course. We'll always have each other. No one, human or demon, can change that."

Vergil was somewhat glad that the rising sun at his back would make him nothing more than a silhouette to his brother, for he was certain that his mask had slipped and some of the despair he felt had escaped to show itself on his face as his brother turned and walked away from him once more.

~ end ~

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