You Know Me Through The Years

Ronin

Vergil had slipped into some sort of routine since he had been back in the human world. Just like before, when he was still in his teens, he found himself enjoying his time alone in the evenings. It had been at least a month, but he had slowly started to assimilate into this domesticity that Dante had been in for the last twenty years or so. It was, in a way, refreshing.

He had never been one to settle down. That was not his purpose, but now, it seemed he was becoming content. Vergil had all the power he needed, and the only desire he had now was... nothing. That felt strange. All his adult life, he had one singular focus, and that was to become more powerful than his father. He had succeeded in that along with his brother, but why have power with no one to protect?

That answer came in the form of Nero at first. Vergil's first emotion upon learning that he had a son was something akin to indifference. Of course, from his memories during his time as V, he had learned that Nero was determined. Vergil also knew that his son had a kind heart that could easily be broken. This was something that they had in common if he were to admit it. Some part of him wanted to connect with his son, but the prideful side of him did not want to admit defeat.

Nero was someone to protect, even if the boy could fend for himself. Vergil did have some sort of paternal instinct towards his son, which he admitted to when he and his brother prevented the boy from following them to the Underworld. It was also not a quick decision to leave the book with Nero as well. Vergil had contemplated entrusting the only possession he had left of his childhood to Nero when he learned the truth. There was more than poetry in the book, and perhaps it would offer some closure to the boy. That was Vergil's way of letting Nero know that he did accept his son's existence, and if he were to be honest, he was proud. However, there were still some words that needed to be said between them, and of course, a long overdue promise to be kept.

That would be handled soon enough.

For now, Vergil had become comfortable with his living situation. Rowena had cleared out the apartment above her garage for him and had even gone as far as giving him some casual clothing to wear around the house. At first, he had been slightly upset that she had gone through the trouble of buying him clothing, but then he realized everything was basically foreign to him. He had been gone for over twenty-five years, and the world had changed so much it was unrecognizable. Rowena was only trying to make his adjustment period a little easier. In truth, he did not realize how much he had missed her.

When he was a boy, she was his best friend, other than his brother. They had played together, and sometimes they read together, as long as Dante was not trying to annoy them. The memories from those times were flooding back in full force. Those were simpler times for sure, and he felt nostalgia every time he looked at Evalyn. His little niece looked just like Rowena when she was a girl. He envied Dante for having such a family, which was a strange feeling.

Rowena had always taken up the room with her vivacious personality, which her daughters inherited. Especially Mara. The older girl was precocious, like her father, but she demanded attention when she was around. Mara was full of fire and life, something she put to good use when she practiced karate every afternoon. Vergil admired her dedication to martial arts, especially her interest in the Japanese styles.

Mara was more willing to be around him, though. Ever since he had spoken to her the first time, she was more open to conversations with him, where her sister was blasé in his presence. Mara had also taken to sitting with him in the evenings and reading or doing homework. Rowena had told Vergil that Mara thought the world of him, which brought up a wave of emotions he had not felt in a long time.

Loving someone was not hard. He knew love and was familiar with it, except the romantic love. Eros, he believed it was called, was not something he cared about. No, what he felt now was more akin to paternal love. He would protect his nieces with everything he had, no questions asked. That was his job as their uncle. He supposed.

He did not have anything else to strive for at this point. Power seemed less enthralling these days. He had it, and now he did not really know what to do with it other than make sure those he loved were safe. His routine was to get up in the morning (when he did sleep) sit and have coffee with Rowena while she made breakfast, and the rest of the day was as close to basic domesticity as he could get. Evenings were for reading or watching Dante and his children argue over what game they were going to play. It was entertaining for the most part, but he was a silent observer in that scenario.

In truth, he was complete, but he felt empty. Vergil compared himself to the Ronin... wandering samurai without daimyo. He was finally free, but he did not know how to be free. It was a conundrum of sorts. He was essentially looking for his place in this family he had not expected to have. After all, family had once been important to him as a child, and he had forsaken the idea when he became an adult. Now, the idea was in his face every day, causing regrets from the past to surface every night.

At least he knew where he stood with everyone. That was a start on this new path he was on, which was rocky at first. Vergil was learning by observation, and that was enough for him to build a foundation of trust.

He was content for now.