The hoot of an owl outside startled the sparrows dozing on the fence.
Dio irritably grabbed his pillow and flung it at Clark—only for Clark to catch it easily midway.
"I don't want you to die. So even if I'm terrified of drowning, I'd still jump in to pull you out."
"..."
Dio couldn't stand that look on Clark's face.
"Go to sleep!"
He barked the order, then crawled back into his bed and cocooned himself in the blanket.
"I'm not going to die—ever! Clark, that was just one possible future! If you keep this up, I'll jump into the frozen pond right now!"
"...Oh."
Moonlight spilled over the two small beds.
"Dio..."
"So in the future, I really become an emperor?"
Clearly, Clark was still hung up on Giorno's words.
Inside the blanket, Dio almost burst out laughing.
"Clark, do you even know what an emperor is?"
"Of course I do!" Clark pushed himself up indignantly, his blue eyes shining with seriousness in the dark. "They're the villains in historical dramas, the ones who wear golden robes! Every time an emperor shows up on TV, Dad always points and says—"
He dropped his voice, mimicking Jonathan's rough tone:
"Look at this tyrant, Clark! That's why America had to be independent!"
Dio's red eyes rolled in the dark. "Idiot. That's just TV."
He yanked a pillow over his face, muttering muffled words:
"A real emperor has to—"
"Grade homework every day?" Clark cut in suddenly. "Like Uncle Locke checking our math problems?"
"Pfft—!"
Dio tore the pillow off his face, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.
"You moron! Emperors don't bother with that! They—they—"
He stalled.
In the moonlight, the two boys locked eyes, both realizing an awkward truth—
Neither of them actually knew what emperors did.
"Anyway!"
Dio snapped, embarrassed, grabbing another pillow.
"Emperors wear ridiculously stupid golden clothes, with those weird donut-shaped things on their heads! And they go on and on about this world, that world, just like—"
"Like what?"
Creak—!
The door opened softly, hallway light spilling across the floor and casting Locke's tall silhouette.
Rubbing his temples, clearly woken by the noise, he sighed.
"Little rascals."
"You've already woken me up three times tonight with your racket."
"Dio, the way you're kicking the bed, even the barn mice can hear it."
"Uncle Locke, I think our barn might not have mice anymore…" Clark scratched his head sheepishly.
"Hey!"
"You little brat."
But Clark's reply made Locke chuckle.
Seeing him laugh, Clark couldn't help asking softly:
"Uncle Locke… in the future, do I really become what Giorno said?"
Looking down at the boy's unease under the moonlight, Locke walked to the space between the two beds and sat down, the mattress creaking under his weight.
He ruffled Clark's curls, then glanced at Dio, who immediately pretended to be asleep.
"Listen, Clark."
Locke's voice was gentle.
"Your future is something no one else can decide for you. You have no duty to live up to anyone else's version of it. You're not the emperor from Giorno's story. Just like…"
He paused deliberately.
"Dio isn't the father in Giorno's story who dies."
Dio's blanket suddenly shifted.
Clark blinked.
"So… I don't have to turn into that? And Dio won't die either?"
"That's because responsibility isn't like that, you idiot!"
Dio suddenly threw off his blanket and sat up, golden hair bristling like an angry cat.
"Responsibility is—"
"Milking the cows every morning?"
Locke cut him off, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Dio choked.
"O-of course not! Responsibility is obviously—"
Dio choked. "O-of course not! Responsibility is clearly…"
"Paying your farm taxes on time?"
"Dad!"
"Or remembering to refuel the tractor?"
"..."
Dio summoned The World, looking dead serious as if ready to attack his father.
"Alright, that's enough." Locke pressed down on both boys' heads, snuffing out the unfilial thought with a laugh. "Responsibility isn't some burden others force onto you. It's when you see something that needs to be done, and you just happen to have the ability to do it…"
"It becomes a choice you make naturally."
"Like how Martha gets up early every morning to cook breakfast—not because anyone asks her to, but because she knows we love eating it."
Locke's voice softened.
"Like how Jonathan, even though his back aches like hell, still insists on fixing the fence so the lambs don't get out."
"Clark, remember when you were five, and your senses became so sharp that you hated going outside?"
"Jonathan and I gave up planting crops that season."
"That was because we loved you. So we made that choice, and we took on the responsibility that came with it—staying home to accompany you until you adjusted."
"And the cost—living on potatoes for two months."
"But we gained something too. You were finally able to go outside like everyone else."
"Choice."
Clark's eyes gradually lit up.
But Dio frowned. "But… what if you make the wrong choice?"
He thought back to earlier tonight—
how he had to choose between running away or fighting alongside his father.
If he had chosen to fight with him instead…
"Then you'd experience the cost of growing up."
"But what matters most," Locke said, "is that you always remember why you made that choice."
He stood up and headed for the door. But before stepping out, he suddenly turned back and added:
"And you both can make a choice right now too—because if I hear any more noise…"
"We'll be punished by cleaning the entire farm's chicken coop tomorrow?" Clark asked innocently.
"No!"
Locke grinned devilishly. "You'll be eating Dio's blueberry pancakes."
"Hey!"
The door closed just as a pillow thumped against it.
Moonlight flowed back into the room, shining on the two small beds side by side.
Clark whispered again:
"Dio, if I chose to become emperor… what would you choose to do?"
"You're so annoying, Clark!"
"Listen!" Dio rolled over, his red eyes locking onto Clark's blue ones. He enunciated every word:
"If a moron like you actually became emperor, it would mean this world is beyond saving. So if you really turn into that in the future…"
"I'll kick you right off the throne."
Clark froze for two seconds, then broke into a wide smile, two little tiger teeth showing.
"Then it's settled! Dio, you can't die—you have to kick me off the throne."
"Idiot."
Dio cocooned himself back in the blanket. "Who said anything about settling it?"
The room grew quiet again. This time, no one spoke, just the steady rhythm of their breathing slowly syncing.
But with his back to Clark, Dio's red eyes glimmered unnaturally bright in the dark.
Choice…
If that idiot Clark really became an emperor, the world would definitely fall apart.
It'd be better if I became one.
Then I could turn the whole world into the Kent family farm. Just imagine how much wheat Dad could harvest—he'd be so happy.
That thought comforted Dio.
But then—
another problem cropped up. If Clark didn't become emperor, then what would he do?
As for inheriting Dad's farm—Dio didn't even dare think about it.
He couldn't look forward to, or even imagine, the day Locke would be gone and he'd take over the farm.
Besides, more than being a farmer alongside Clark, Dio much preferred studying physics.
Gravity and such things were way more interesting than farming.
As he kept thinking and thinking—
"Clark!" Dio suddenly called out.
Was he actually planning to ask Clark's opinion?!
However…
"Hoo hoo hoo~"
Clearly, the exhausted boy had already fallen fast asleep.
"You heartless idiot…"
Dio gnashed his teeth, tugging angrily at the corner of his blanket.
Great. Now he couldn't sleep.
He tried counting sheep, but every single one turned into a Clark wearing golden armor. He tried reciting the periodic table, but every chemical symbol twisted itself into the shape of a crown.
"Damn it…"
Barefoot, he jumped off the bed and crept over to his desk.
Moonlight shone down on the notebook he had secretly hidden away. On it, in bold letters, was written:
"Dio's Perfect Life."
[Option A: Physicist]
Dio nodded.
Maybe he could even study space-time, travel into the future, and beat up that unfilial brat.
[Option B: Farmer]
Dio shook his head.
Once grown up, Clark could probably handle the work of two farms all by himself.
Even if Dad really did kick the bucket one day, Dio wouldn't have to lift a finger—Clark would do all the work, and he could still lie back and take a cut of Clark's money.
And then came the third…
The pen hovered above the page, dripping ink into little black spots.
[Option C: Emperor]
Looking at the freshly added option, Dio's lips curled into a grin.
Honestly, that one had quite the pull on him.
He remembered—emperors had the power to exile people.
Casting a glance at the sleeping Clark beside him, Dio chuckled to himself.
If that day ever came, he would definitely exile Clark to Antarctica to raise penguins.
Let's see if you still love ice holes then!