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Dante was one of the best informants in the business for a reason.
Some might say it’s because he’s naturally nosy. Others might say it’s because he’s a greedy bastard who’ll do anything for money. And still others might say — and who cared for these people’s opinions — that it was not like he had anywhere else to go or anything better to do, so he really had no choice but to be good at it.
There might be some truth to all of those things, but none of it was the whole truth.
Dante was simply good at reading people.
Finding no acceptance from either side of his heritage, Dante had learned how to read people from an early age. He figured out the signs that indicated others’ moods and what could cause them to shift. He learned what people liked hearing, what they didn’t like hearing, and what could make them listen to you. Or, more importantly, what people would be willing to pay to learn from you.
It wasn’t an innate talent. It was a skill that Dante had developed and honed with pride.
It’s what kept change in his pocket and food on his table. It made him valuable enough that people from both sides of the Border sought him out, whether for information or some other job that they didn’t want to dirty their own hands with.
There was a reason why, despite his relative young age, he’d earned a reputation and nickname as the Handyman.
Though Vanitas, he could admit, had been a pretty hard nut to crack at first.
Vanitas was an enigma wrapped in layers of secrets. He never showed who he truly was, constantly hiding behind a plethora of masks to suit his needs.
Or at least, that’s what Vanitas wanted you to think.
“I must say I was a bit surprised when you called me out here.”
Dante looked up from where he was seated at his table as Vanitas approached his table. Characteristic smirk firmly in place, Vanitas almost looked back to normal after what happened in the amusement park. Whatever bandages still lingered — and Dante just knew that they did — were carefully hidden beneath the layers of clothing that Vantias wore like armor.
To the average bystander familiar with him, Vanitas would appear to be his usual self.
Dante, however, had enough experience both in reading people and reading Vanitas in particular to know that wasn’t the case.
“Still, I suppose it’s about time we get back to normal.” Vanitas slid into one of the seats across from Dante, nonchalantly leaning into the hand he propped up on the table. “So, what meal am I paying for this time? What news do you have?”
Dante wasn’t about to let Vanitas take the lead this time.
“Actually, I’m paying for my own meal. Yours, too.” Dante slid a menu over to him. “Choose something.”
Vanitas’s eyes immediately sharpened and focused on him. Dante ignored the poisonous blues now fixed on him and pretended to look over his own menu as if he didn’t already know what he wanted.
The thing was that Vantias was also very good at reading people. As he’d said before, Dante wouldn’t claim to know much of Vanitas’s past before the day he appeared on that bridge, beaten and bruised and looking for a decent information broker to help him find curse bearers. Recent events had shed some light onto his mysterious backstory, but for once, Dante was afraid to dig into it. It appeared that Vanitas’s past was a messy tangle of webs that could easily ensnare any snoopers until someone powerful came along to devour the interloper. Unless someone paid him enough to make it worth his while, he wasn’t going to touch it. Regardless, whatever Vanitas’s past was, clearly he’d also made a point in learning how to read people.
Vanitas, though, used his ability for entirely different purposes than Dante.
Dante used his ability to read the room, to figure out what people wanted, and to file away whatever he learned in the hopes it might be useful later. He knew a lot more than he let on or that he would probably ever have to use. And whatever he didn’t use, he kept his mouth shut about. No need to bring attention to himself when no one was asking for it. Information was a way to protect himself and those he cared for.
Vanitas wielded information like a weapon. He figured out people’s deals and then used that knowledge to get whatever he wanted from them. He put on a persona to be whatever they wanted him to be, whatever would appeal to them the most or, more often, whatever pissed them off. The second method was one he used to simultaneously gain more information and ensure that his targets would keep away. Vanitas wanted everyone to stay at an arm’s length.
Or at least, he did before now.
Dante knew he was walking a very thin tightrope here, pulling this kind of stunt. But while he could excuse a lot, this was something he couldn’t ignore.
His opponent was Vanitas though.
If it was just his equal ability to read people that he had to contend with, Dante wouldn’t be so worried. But Vanitas was scary smart at times. The human absorbed information like a sponge, remembering everything down to the very last detail where Dante would only have a general idea of the information without consulting his notes. And when it counted, Vanitas certainly used that intelligence and memory.
He already knew something was up with this break in their pattern.
Dante had to outmaneuver the master manipulator.
“I see.” Vanitas said, but he apparently decided to play along for now, lifting up the menu.
Luckily, that bought Dante some time to organize his thoughts and decide how to approach what he had to say. However, by the time they’d given their orders and had their food brought to them, Vanitas’s patience was obviously wearing thin. He still waited until they were halfway through their meals though, which Dante was grateful for.
“Dante,” Vanitas put down his sandwich and narrowed his eyes at him, “why did you call me out here?”
He knew he’d pushed his luck far enough. Dante eyed the bottle of booze he’d ordered but hadn’t drunk yet; he decided to hold off on that for now. He needed to be sober for this conversation and Vanitas was done waiting.
“Y’know,” he started, “there’s always been a pattern to your ‘shields’ that you’ve recruited.”
Noé had not been the first, though Dante strongly suspected that he would be the last.
All of Vanitas’s previous shields had been strong and skilled; each one unique but equally deadly. They were the kind of people who wouldn’t think twice about having to kill someone if it suited their needs. And though they had accompanied Vanitas when fighting curse bearers, they were only doing it for the money he paid them — all of them had loathed Vanitas. Which was just how Vanitas had liked it.
Noé was a sharp contrast to all of them. Sure, he was just as strong and skilled, if not stronger due to being a vampire, but he hated the very thought of having to kill someone. And despite his words to the contrary, Dante knew that Noé had a fondness — at the very least — for Vanitas.
He was the only one who stuck around — or to be more accurate, the only one Vanitas let stick around. With all the others, either they got fed up with Vanitas and the work, or Vanitas himself cast them aside once they screwed up or annoyed him too much.
But Noé stayed, no matter what Vanitas wanted.
And Vanitas let him stay, no matter what he might say.
There wasn’t even any money involved in the odd partnership they’d formed that could help explain its continuation.
It didn’t make sense, but really, it wasn’t Dante’s business.
Vanitas clearly wasn’t thinking that deeply about it. He raised an eyebrow. “And? So what if I look for strong people to act as shields? Isn’t that the point of having one?”
Dante wasn’t done.
“When you don’t have a ‘shield’ handy, you’ve always hired me to back you up instead.” He’d never thought much about it before now, just being grateful for the extra money. “You don’t mind doing the investigation portion by yourself — in fact, you prefer it usually — but when it comes to the actual confrontation, you make sure you have someone else with you.”
Vanitas twitched. It was small, almost insignificant to most people probably, but Dante wasn’t most people. It was a tell. It was enough that Dante knew he was on the right track.
Vanitas didn’t like where this conversation was going, but luckily for Dante, he was still allowing it. “Is there a point to this?” He frowned.
“It’s funny that I didn’t notice until Fella pointed it out to me, but despite asking for a ‘shield’ to come with you, you are awfully persnickety about them actually protecting you.” Dante leaned back, conveying the confidence behind his words.
Another twitch. Dante was getting close, perhaps too close. Vanitas tried to recover with a grin. “I hardly think —”
“I know about what happened with that Mikhail kid and his Book.”
Vanitas froze like a rabbit in the sights of a wolf. He knew what was happening now, but he couldn’t stop it. For once, Dante had the advantage from the beginning.
Jeanne probably didn’t know not to talk about it. To be fair, by the time Dante and the others arrived at the amusement park, she kind of had her hands full. Literally. She had an unconscious Vanitas under one arm, an unconscious Noé under the other, and a contrite and quiet Lady Dominique following her as the park laid in ruins around them. So when he asked what happened, she told them everything.
Dante wasn’t stupid.
It was like he’d been collecting the pieces to a puzzle he didn’t even know he had, but afterwards, they started to click together. And Dante didn’t like the picture they were forming.
“If that’s what the Book can do to its wielder, it really makes you think.”
“That’s not —” Vanitas attempted to deny it, but his mask was failing. “It isn’t—”
“Vanitas.” Dante’s use of his name immediately shut him up. “Were your ‘shields’ there to protect you from curse bearers? Or were they there to protect everyone else from you?”
Vanitas stared at him, that blank, neutral expression on his face. He didn’t say anything but his silence spoke volumes.
“Damnit!” Dante finally poured himself a shot and gulped it down. This was it; he was at his limit.
He should have known, or at least suspected.
Could he pride himself on being the information broker who knew everything about everyone that was necessary to know when this had been laying right under his nose?
Vanitas was reckless, throwing himself into dangerous situation after dangerous situation without any regard for his own life. Even when he fought, he prioritized getting the job done over whatever might happen to himself. Despite the importance of his mission and purpose, he didn’t seem to care much about his wellbeing, only doing the bare minimum to keep himself going.
So then why would he double check that Dante’s gun was loaded each time they faced a curse bearer together and he pulled out that damn Book? Reminded Dante that he was paying him to do whatever had to be done?
Vanitas thrived by being cryptic and hiding his true purpose and meaning, but Dante was supposed to see through that crap!
After taking another shot, Dante looked up to find Vanitas scowling and picking at the remains of his sandwich.
“So how much longer?” He didn’t elaborate further.
“I don’t know.” Vanitas wouldn’t look at him, but nothing in his posture alluded to any of his usual lies. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”
Dante hated the anger that flared at that. “What? Don’t trust me? I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
He wasn’t lying, to his surprise. He was only supposed to look after himself and his own. Yet here he was, willing to stick his neck out for Vanitas of all people. He thought Vanitas would know him well enough to know he wouldn’t sell him out.
Vanitas lifted his eyes to meet his before his gaze flicked over him as if assessing him. “Not willingly.” He conceded, which helped the anger fade. “But there are ways to make you talk. And this way, you can honestly say that you don’t know anything.”
Huh. Perhaps Noé wasn’t the only person Quack cared about.
Dante poured another shot, but he paused before drinking it. Speaking of…
“Does Noé know?” Because if the vampire really intended to stay, even after all this…
Vanitas’s face softened, just like it always did when it came to that fella. “I don’t think he’s made the connection to the role of the shield.” He said. “But, yes, he knows.”
“Really?” He couldn’t imagine Noé “I want to save everyone” Archiviste finding that acceptable.
Vanitas shrugged, probably thinking the same thing. “I’ve given up on trying to make him do what I want.” He sighed and Dante wanted to snicker at the pout adorning his face, but this wasn’t a laughing matter. “So I can only hope he’ll do what’s best when the time comes.”
Dante hummed and took his shot.
He remembered Johann’s assessment of Noé. He hoped that Noé might pull through in such circumstances but he didn’t want to count on that. He didn’t want it to come to that in the first place. It might just break the fella.
But at the same time, he wanted Noé to stick around. Connections to the de Sade's aside, Vanitas was simply…better with Noé around. Vanitas would never admit it, but he honestly seemed happy with Noé by his side which was something he couldn’t say was true for most of the time he’d known Vanitas.
Plus, unlike him, Noé had an actual talent for reading people, especially Vanitas. He could see right through Vanitas’s crap in a way few could and in a way Vanitas needed someone to. Unfortunately, Noé didn’t have enough experience yet — both in general and with Vanitas — to always know what exactly he was seeing, but Dante knew he’d get there someday. Still, it was nice that he wasn’t the only person able to call Vanitas out now.
“Now, not that this hasn’t been lovely.” Vanitas pushed his uneaten food aside. “But if you don’t actually have anything for me…?” He raised an eyebrow.
Dante waved him off. “Yeah, yeah, I think we’re done here.”
Vanitas nodded and stood up, but he hesitated a moment before leaving. “Dante.”
“What?”
“If Noé can’t do it…” His expression was hidden from Dante by the curtain of his hair. “Would you be willing to back me up one last time?”
Dante’s heart stopped. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes to center himself.
He knew exactly what Vanitas was asking.
“Yeah, sure.” Dante finally said, opening his eyes. He gripped his shot glass like it was a lifeline.
Vanitas tilted his head and smiled at him, sending a jolt down his spine. It was a smile he’d never seen before on Vanitas, but it didn’t feel like another mask. “I’ll see that you’re properly compensated in my will.”
“Right…” For once, money was the last thing on his mind.
With a final nod, Vanitas walked away. “See you later, Dante. Let me know if there’s a case.”
“Right…”
Dante sat there for a long moment before he sighed and buried his face in his hand.
And then he grabbed the bottle and poured himself yet another shot.
He was going to get so spectacularly drunk. He would probably have to send his bat to get Johann or Riche to collect him later. But at the moment, he needed this.
Yes, Dante was good at reading people.
Yes, Dante was good at knowing many things that others did not.
But that didn’t always mean that he liked what he knew.