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“Nero,” Vergil sighed as he spotted the six year old picking up one of the many sample colognes on the glass counter of the department store, “Please put it down”. He still remembered the time Dante had gotten distracted, and Nero had sprayed himself with half a bottle of some ocean inspired concoction. It had taken weeks for the smell to dissipate from their home. Vergil hadn't thought he'd ever appreciate the smell of stale pizza, but oh, did he ever crave it after nearly a month of living with the choking scent.
“Awwww” Nero grumped, as he obediently set it down, “Uncle Dante might like this one”
“He can pick out his own his own fragrance, it's best we pick something we know he will like”
“Why are we shopping for him anyway? You said it was for 'Father's Day', but he's not my dad”
“No,” Vergil agreed, looking through the flyer, seeing if there were any deals. Money wasn't as tight as it had been the first few years, but that wouldn't stop Vergil from trying to save money whenever he could. “But Uncle Dante has looked after you ever since you were an infant, so I think that qualifies as some sort of 'father'.”
“Isn't there some sort of 'Uncle's day' I could give him a gift?” the child asked, as he walked around a female mannequin, swishing her long flowing skirt.
Vergil chuckled, “There probably is, but it would mean more if he received it on this day.”
Nero walked away from the mannequin, and looked over his father's shoulder, and pointed to one of the pictures,“How about a shirt?”
“Your uncle doesn't usually wear shirts...”
“Well, maybe he hasn't found a shirt he likes? Maybe we can find one with pizza on it!”
“Hmm....”
They entered the men's section, and began perusing shirts of all sorts. Nero excitedly went through the racks, trying to find something would befit his favourite uncle. Every time he would find something he thought Dante would like, he would bring it to his father for his opinion. Vergil, who had more discriminating taste, would be the final arbiter. Nero's choices were.... interesting to say the least. (Vergil raised at his eyebrow at the black one with orange flames at the bottom, no wonder it was on clearance)
“What about this one?” Nero ran over with a wine red button up silk shirt. The colour was strong, the texture, smooth and silky, and the stitching looked solid. Vergil winced inwardly at the price tag, but.... perhaps it would suit his brother's tastes, seeing as he enjoyed the finer things in life, especially when it came to clothes. Perhaps he would even wear it in public, instead of just that embarrasing strap.
“I think,” he said, as Nero watched his face nervously, “he would like this” his son's face blossomed into a cheeky grin, which made Vergil's chest swell.
“But first,” he said, giving it one final look over, “we'll need to see if it will fit him correctly,” and with that, he headed to the dressing room. Sometimes having an identical twin was aggravating, but in this case, having the same body shape might be useful....
****
Nero half-heartedly poked his french fries in the miniature cup of ketchup as they sat at the mall's food court, Vergil noticed. This was odd, as his son was usually a voracious devourer burgers and fries, and he hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, several hours ago. Setting down his account book, (He'd spent a bit more than he was comfortable with this day, but the occasional splurge wouldn't hurt the bottom line right now) he tapped the table, getting the boy's attention.
“What troubles you?”
Nero bit his bottom lip, not looking him in the eye, instead suddenly fascinated with the grain of the table. “Well, we got Uncle Dante his gift for Father's Day, but I don't know what to get you”
Oh, that was a relief, he thought. He was always bad with dealing with his son's emotional needs, so he dreaded having the 'Heart-To-Heart' conversations that his brother was always trying to get him to participate in. He'd been trying to get better... but he still had to resist the urge to flee when his kin talked about things like...feelings.
“I am not too picky, a handmade card will do” he suggested, watching Nero's eyes meet up with his.
“Handmade?”
“Yes, making it yourself is enough to tell me you put effort into the gift” his son's eyes brightened at that, and fairly rapidly went back to gorging himself on his lunch. Vergil wasn't lying. He valued the meanings behind actions, and was always mistrustful about lavish gifts. Gifts usually had the added message 'I expect something in return' when he was navigating the cold, hard world by himself after the fire. It was yet another thing he was slowly working at, one day at a time.
Besides, Vergil was content with Nero growing up healthy and happy. If he was perfectly honest, he didn't feel deserving of anything. He'd done his duty, made sure his son was fed, clothed, properly educated, and most of all, protected. That's what a father's responsibility was. To do any less would be an insult to the title of fatherhood. And to think, had it not been for a chance encounter, he would have never known his son existing (Vergil didn't like thinking about the 'what-ifs' of that scenario, it made him very uneasy). Vergil had barely a right to the title, and yet Nero still looked up to him as such. It was puzzling.
Dante on the other hand, despite his initial distrust of Vergil, had wholeheartedly taken Nero under his wing, and even though he was just an uncle, he enthusiastically did all the things Vergil had, plus was his son's emotional bedrock. Although he would never admit it, his immature little brother was more deserving of the title of father than Vergil could ever hope to be. He wasn't jealous (okay, maybe he was, just a little bit), as long as Nero was content and safe with both brothers, that's all he could ever want.
******
That mid June Sunday was unfortunately, a rainy affair, but that didn't seem to dampen anyone's experience, especially Nero's. It was with barely unrestrained glee that he made and brought both brothers toast and orange juice (for for himself and Dante), and tea (for Vergil) for breakfast. His brother had to subtly restrain Vergil from trying to help when Nero carefully brought the steaming hot beverage from the kitchen to the table.
“He'll be fine, Verg. He's got it all under control,” Dante hissed, his hand gripping Vergil's thigh under the table. It took all of Vergil's self control to remain still. Nero, to his credit, had managed to navigate his way with the tea without spilling, much to his father's relief. He even washed the dishes by himself, a chore that he'd always detested doing (Vergil couldn't blame him, both he and Dante as children hated being assigned dish duty).
But what his son was really looking forward was giving the gifts. He impatiently walked back and forth, waiting for both Uncle and Father get themselves dressed and ready for the day. And then with barely controlled excitement, he herded them both into the living room, and onto the couch as if they were oddly coloured sheep.
“UNCLE DANTE!” he announced, “This is for you, for Father's Day!”
“But kid... I'm not yo-”
“Hush Dante, let Nero give you your gift” Vergil chided, not willing to go into an explanation of why he was included. No need letting his twin's ego swell anymore than it had to.
Nero rushed up with a card, handmade. It was coloured in with every colour of marker, crayon, and pencil crayon the boy had in his collection, with drawings of a man in red fighting off monsters of every sort...and some... were those dinosaurs? There was barely enough space to make out the lettering.
Dante's eyes lit up as he read it “Awww, kid, you shouldn't have, I-”
“I'm not done! Here you go!” and he handed his uncle a wrapped present, with quite a bit of tape stuck to each seam.
His brother, with unusual carefulness, peeled apart the wrapping paper, to find the shirt, folded neatly in its box. He pulled it out, holding it at arms length, feeling the soft texture between fingers and thumbs.
“Do you like it? I picked it out because you like the colour red. You never wear shirts, so I thought maybe you needed a new one. You should wear a shirt when you're out working, uncle, you might have to fight a frost demon and you'll get cold if you don't wear a shirt. It even fits! Dad made sure and tried it on for you!”
Dante chuckled, “Well, well, well, your dad wearing the colour red? Wish I could have a picture of that sight,” and he playfully punched Vergil before the elder twin had a chance to retort. He removed his jacket, and threw it on, and looked down and gave an approving whistle. His eyes seemed a bit more misty than they usually did. And without warning, he scooped up his nephew to give him a suffocating hug. “I love it, kid!”
“Are those tears, brother?” Vergil asked, with a a gentle smirk on his face, as Nero shrieked for him to let him go.
“No, it's just dusty in here. I guess I gotta clean up this room”
“Of course...”
With a faux-annoyed hmmmph, his brother let his son down, grinned (while wiping his eyes, Vergil noticed with satisfaction). “Two can play at that game, Verg”, and he gave Nero and encouraging pat on the shoulder.
The boy nodded, and reached from under the couch, and grabbed what seemed to be a card and a small blue velvet bag.
The handmade card, unlike Dante's, didn't have the kaleidoscope of images, but instead had a child's drawing of a man in blue reading a book, while his son sat in his lap. Carefully written, or as careful as a six year old could write, were the words:
I love reed reading with you
I love cooking dinner with you
I love watching you fight with Yamato
But most of all....
I love YOU alot a lot Dad
Happy Father's Day!!!!!!!
Love,
NERO
Vergil was so touched by the card, that he barely registered the bag being gently placed in his lap. Tentatively, he set the card down, and undid the silver cord that held the opening shut.
Placing his hand in, he slowly pulled out a long braided rope. It was made of many colours. Red, blue, purple, and a gold, each made, as he felt them, of fine silk. As he pulled it out, over five feet of it, he realised it wasn't just a rope... it was a sageo. Vergil's hands gently grazed over it all, enjoying the texture, and admiring the intricate patterns of colour
“I...I hope you like it,” Nero broke through his distracted daze, “Uncle Dante helped me pick out the colours, and Auntie Lady taught me how to braid them together. I messed up a little on this end,” the boy tried to grab the offending section, but Vergil quickly grabbed his hand to stop him.
“You made this?” his voice wavered as he looked his son in the eye.
“Yes, you said you would like something handmade, so I thought you might like this... all the kids in school are doing braiding things so I though-”
Nero never got a chance to finish his sentence as Vergil swept his arms out and pulled him into a deep, strong embrace. “I love it,” he murmured into his son's shoulder, after the child had stopped his initial struggle, “And... I love you, my son.”
Above the sound of his son's heartbeat, (and to be honest, his own), he could hear Dante joke.
“Are you crying, Verg?
“No Dante,” he said, continuing to hold his most precious possession in his arms, “It's...just dust..”
Just...Dust...