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“What do you mean you’re not excited about Christmas?” Dante said, steadying Nero on his lap. “You’re excited about Christmas, right, buddy?”
Nero, who hasn’t been paying attention to the conversation at all in favour of his stuffed toy, gives an enthusiastic: “Yeah!”
Dante gives Vergil a smug look.
“He’s only picking up on your excitement,” Vergil sighs. “Not all of us can be trapped in a state of perpetual immaturity.”
“Uh oh, look like your pappa’s been bitten by the Grinch, huh? Think that’s why he always looks so constipated?” Dante bounces Nero on his knee for emphasis.
Nero giggles, nodding. Using Nero’s agreeable nature against Vergil was Dante’s favourite logical fallacy . And Vergil is far too disciplined to fall for such childish bait.
“He doesn’t even understand what you’re saying,” Vergil grumbles, making his third attempt to return to his book.
“What do we do with Grinches, huh?” Dante tickles Nero’s side playfully, earning a squeal from his nephew.
“Uh,” Nero answers, looking at Vergil for guidance.
Vergil raises an eyebrow at him. “You got yourself into this, Little One. A warrior does not turn to his opponent for help.”
“We gotta get him in the Christmas spirit!” Dante answers.
The three of them sit in the lounge of Devil May Cry, encircling a small heater to fight off the chill. This is all for Nero’s benefit, of course. Dante and Vergil run hot as a rule and aren’t bothered by the cold. But Nero, being both little and much more human, needs the warmth.
“Okay!” Nero says enthusiastically, squirming off Dante’s lap. “Let’s go!”
“Now?” Dante says, surprised. “Shi-“ he catches Vergil’s stern look. “Shoot, isn’t it time for both of us to nap, buddy?”
Nero shakes his head. In toddler time, there seems to exist only two slots: right now, reserved for playtime and any other desired activity, and never. The latter is reserved for baths and other undesirables.
Vergil ignores Dante’s look, reading the same sentence of The Art of War that he’s been stuck on for an hour now. Dante is the fun uncle, the one who plays with Nero and comes up with all the fun activities. He always struggles with discipline, and Nero tends to run a mile with this.
“Oh, no little brother. You will finish what you started. And you will deal with all the tantrums resulting from Nero’s missed nap.”
The bob of Dante’s adam’s apple with the slightest trepidation. “Okay. Right now, sure. No time like the present, huh?” Ever the pushover when it comes to his nephew. Dante falters for a bit, flailing, as he tries to think of what comes next.
Then, an idea seems to come to him. He deposits Nero on the couch. “You write a wishlist. Here !” After some rustling around in his desk drawers, Dante finds a lose paper. He double checks it for anything inappropriate, as per Vergil’s sharp look. Finally, he hands it to him. After a bit more searching, Dante manages to find a pen as well.
Without so much as a second thought about Nero’s current writing abilities, Dante dashes off at a speed that would be comical if not for Vergil’s current level of irritation.
Dante returns a short while later, dumping an array of items on front of Nero with a flourish. They seem entirely random, most likely as a result of Dante’s lack of cash and time limit.
“A piñata?” Vergil asks. “I’m a bit foggy on the current Christmas traditions, but…”
“Well, nothing’s more festive than rotting your teeth, right? And this is a….” he peels off his coat, floundering for a bit as he drops it over his desk chair. “It’s one of the horses that pulls the sleigh!”
“I think that’s a reindeer-“
But Nero gets to his feet, bouncing excitedly. “Woah!!!” the list drops to the floor, stepped on. “What’s a sleigh?!”
“It’s a type of-“ Vergil starts, but Nero’s attention is quickly taken by the packets Dante is holding.
“C’mon, help me fill it!” Dante asks, hauling Nero onto his lap.
Nero is happy to be included, though all the sweets he tries to pour into the opening of the piñata end up on the couch.
“There, couldn’t have done it without your help. Now we gotta break it!”
Dante looks around the shop for heavy but blunt objects. He ends up managing to pull out a baseball bat from one of the many piles of junk. “Now we whack it! You go first, buddy!”
Nero starts enthusiastically bashing the poor, rainbow hunk of paper-mâché as soon as Dante sets it down.
“How’d the list go?” Dante asks, standing from a safe distance and watching.
“Uh,” Nero says, preoccupied. “Wrote my name.” Nero gestures to a series of scribbles he'd made on the paper. None of them even slightly resembling a letter.
Dante blinks. “Well, that’s a great start. Think you’re almost there, buddy!” he cheers.
The horse is significantly more pathetic looking. Now, it’s missing its ears. Nero is noticeably starting to get tired from swinging around the bat, and a tad frustrated by the lack of sweets.
“Here, lemme do the honours,” Dante says, taking the bat from him.
“Don’t grab. Say please!” Nero chides him, echoing one of Vergil’s common admonishments.
He feels a swell of pride at that, though bites it down by having another sip of tea.
“You’re your father’s kid, huh, Mr Manners? Sure sure, please?”
Nero squeals as Dante’s bash breaks the piñata into several pieces, squashing some of the sweets inside as well. Nero is satisfied with his reward for all of five minutes.
“What’s next?!” He demands, face covered in chocolate.
“Next…” Dante looks to Vergil for help, who ignores him entirely. “Next… we play in the snow! Cmon, we’re gonna go outside for a bit. “
Vergil finally stands, draining the last of his tea. “Wash your face, Nero.”
“But-“
He huffs at Vergil’s look, but trudges towards the bathroom.By the time Nero is clean again, Vergil is back with a thick coat, gloves, and a scarf.
“He doesn’t take it off,” Vergil says as he ties the scarf around Nero’s neck. “Even if he complains, it all stays on. Understand?” he directs at both of them.
“Yeah, yeah. Cmon, Nero, let’s go make a snow angel!”
Vergil starts by boiling milk over the stovetop, glancing at the two of them every so often from the kitchen window. They return even sooner than he’d expected. Nero looks deflated a bit, shivering as Vergil peels off his now wet gloves.
“Sit,” he instructs. He returns soon with two mugs of hot chocolate. Vergil gently places one in Nero’s hands with a “it’s hot”, and puts the other one just out of Dante’s reach.
Nero, exhausted from both his missed nap and all the running around, begins to nod off after finishing his mug. After a quick bath and changing into his pyjamas, Nero is very easy to tuck in for an early night.
“I liked Christmas,” Nero whines at breakfast the next day. “Why’s it gotta be over?”
Dante, up early for once, only grins. “Oh, kiddo, you seen nothing yet.” He disappears into his room, then brings back a pillow case loaded with something. “Had you write that list yesterday remember?”
Nero’s eyes shine. “But I didn’t write any wishes.”
“Well, that’s the magic of Christmas. Go on, look inside.”
Nero’s excitement only grows as he pulls out toy cars, a bouncy ball, and even more sweets. “Thanks, Uncle Dante !” he grins, squeezing him tightly.
“Hey, it wasn’t me. It was the Christmas elves that got all this. They got something for you too, Verge.”
Vergil looks up, protest about Nero finishing his breakfast dying on his lips. “What?” he frowns.
“Here,” Dante throws a packet at him. “Guess the Christmas elves saw you eyeing some of those fancy tea bags. And got you some of those awful ginger sweets you liked when we were kids.”
Vergil, for once, is speechless as he turns the package over in his hands.
“Can we do Christmas next year, too?” Nero asks eagerly. “Please, papa!”
He feels two sets of eyes on him. “Fine. I suppose we can.”