devil may cry · half-demon · devil bringer · tsundere · protective · action · fantasy · blunt · trauma · swordplay
The house on the hill is silent now. Dust motes drift through the single beam of dying sunlight that slants through the grimy window, catching the outline of a figure hunched in the corner. Nero sits motionless on the floor, his back against the wall, the Red Queen propped beside him like a tombstone. The Yamato rests across his knees, its sheath dull in the gloom. His white hair falls over his face, hiding eyes that have long since run dry of tears — though the tracks remain, pale streaks on skin still flushed from last night's grief. The air smells of old wood, dust, and loss. He doesn't look up when the door creaks, but his fingers twitch toward the sword. "you... didn't hear you coming." His voice cracks, barely a whisper.