''If you wanted to reduce your weight, cutting that hair would be more effective than taking your clothes off.'' You joked, already knowing that Gyro wouldn't laugh as much as you did.
You, Gyro and Johnny were alone in the stables. A small bandage had been improvised on Valkyrie's injured leg, and a terrible feeling came over you at the idea that Diego was capable of doing something like that. Subconsciously, part of you wanted to believe that was all an accident.
Johnny was drenched in sweat, but it was nothing compared to Gyro's extreme dehydration. He told you that in an attempt to reduce the weight and increase his speed, Gyro discarded his equipment, his clothes and, when the going got tough, much of the water in his body. He was much thinner and frailer than you ever imagined. His green shirt was soaked, forcing him to take it off and leaving his torso naked to the waist, refraining from removing his pants in front of you.
Gyro's silence was disconcerting. He obviously accepted the water and juniper berries you offered him, but nothing came out of his mouth but raspy sounds of anger and frustration. You thought your presence was a nuisance, but Johnny insisted that you stay to check on his friend.
You spent a few minutes crushing Chilean boldo leaves and talking to Johnny in whispers.
''Do you think he'll be okay until the next stage?'' Johnny asked. He was sitting on a bale of hay, leaning on his horse and bending down to get closer to you, talking so softly that Gyro couldn't hear him.
''Gyro? Of course.'' You said without bothering to speak softly. ''After that, if Gyro thinks about leaving the race... Vai chover canivete.''
''I'm fine, Johnny.'' The Italian's sudden retort made you both startle, you turned your heads and looked at him together. ''The same way I took the water out of my body, I can recover. But I left my steel balls behind along with the rest of my equipment. I just have to go back and get them.''
You saw Gyro trying to get up with difficulty and ran to stop him.
''Gyro, did the dehydration affect your brain?'' You grab him by the shoulders. ''You look terrible, and your horse is injured. In these conditions, you'll barely make it out of the stable!''
Angry and slightly wretched, Gyro yielded to the slightest force you exerted to make him sit back on the ground. You spun on your heels and looked at Johnny.
''Johnny, is it okay if you go get Gyro's stuff? I'd go myself, but as I said, I didn't see the race, so I don't know where to look.''
''Sure.'' He nodded calmly, slid up and mounted his horse expertly. You still didn't understand how he did it.
''Wait a minute.''
You approached Johnny with long strides. Climbed onto a bale of hay and stood on tiptoes to reach his face with your hands. He didn't quite understand what you were up to, but bent over to help you, and retreated in a reflex when he felt your icy hands touch his forehead and neck. He was hot, but a heat typical of the physical exertion he had made. What worried you most, besides the dehydration he shared with Gyro, was the presence of a subtle inflammation in his shoulders.
''Your body is as dry as the Arizona desert, but you can ride.'' You remarked, taking your hands from his face. ''We'll sort this out when you get back. Now go, if Gyro waits any longer he might pass out, and I don't want to carry him around.''
Without question, Johnny obeyed you. You figured he wouldn't take more than ten minutes, so you wearily sat down on one of the hay bales. The place was stuffy and had a pervasive smell of manure and dry grass. You started to sweat and wiped your face on your clothes.
The closed stable door muffled the sounds of the crowd and the incessant music; they blended into a stirring whisper that reverberated and was dizzying. For a few minutes, you remained silent in the stable with Gyro. From time to time, you looked at him questioningly. His sweat-soaked body was still strong and imposing despite the severe dehydration. He was breathing heavily, had his mouth half closed, and his hat was on the ground. You stood up and approached him.
''I've got more water if you want it.'' said, kneeling in front of him and holding out your canteen. You always had a water bottle for your patients, but Gyro had already drunk it all.
He took it without saying anything and drank the water in big gulps. His Adam's apple shook feverishly, and he had to gasp for air when he finished drinking. The heat of his naked torso was disturbingly close to you. The uncomfortable silence continued, even though you tried desperately to avoid it.
Your eyes traveled down his body. You saw the soft shadow of the beginning of his crotch, and you lowered your head to hide your blush.
You feared for your life as you remembered how difficult it was to get through the crowd of women around Johnny and Gyro when they realized you knew them, exasperated with jealousy. You can hardly imagine what would happen to you if one of those women or anyone else saw you there, alone in an empty stable with a half-naked runner, sweaty and panting. The urge to look around to see if you were alone was inescapable.
As you turned your attention to Gyro, you realized that he was looking at you, silently. That was a little uncomfortable.
''Are you sure you can recover the water of your body?'' You asked, hoping that your cheeks were no longer red.
''Yes, I can. I just need my steel balls.'' He cast a sideways glance at his horse. ''Do you know how to sew, (Y/N)?''
''I only sew flesh.'' You replied with a subtle smile.
''That's great. Could you do me a favor? When Johnny comes back with my things, I want you to sew Valkyrie's wound.''
''Of course.''
''Great...'' He muttered and tilted his head to the side. ''She needs to recover soon, and my vision is too blurred... for me to deal with that.''
Any expression of anger he had held since the end of the third stage disappeared in the blink of an eye. Now his face looked like someone unconscious, although his body is still moving in feeble movements of resistance.
''Mierda, Gyro!'' You reached out and propped his head on your hand. ''Why didn't you tell me your blood pressure was low?''
He groaned and closed his eyes, unconsciously nestling into your hands. His hair was wet with sweat and his whole body sticky. His pulse was weak and his lips, though lightly smeared with green lipstick, were distinctly pale. You placed a hand on your clammy forehead, the task of holding a burly man immobile while he succumbed to the relentless pressure drop and dehydration wasn't for the weak.
''You're boiling.'' You stated, slowly standing up and letting him rest his head on a bale of hay to get Gyro's weight off. ''I'm going to get some macela and more water in my wagon. Can you wait alone here?''
Gyro mumbled something unintelligible, which you decided was a yes, and walked to your wagon without wasting any time.
The way was short and led through streets that were full of people. You were already exhausted and covered in manure and dirt. The wagon was just as you had left it, and the cat was sleeping next to Cadichon, but something made you raise your eyebrows to the roots of your hair. It was Diego, holding an unknown man by the neck and lifting him with only one hand and unbelievable strength, considering that the other man was twice the size of the jockey.
''I... I didn't steal anything, I swear!'' Said the man between suppressed grunts and curses which abruptly ended in a thud as Diego threw the man to the ground.
''Diego!'' you shouted. Whatever was going on, it was near your wagon, and that might scare off customers. ''What the hell are you doing?! What's going on?!''
He didn't answer but looked at you as if he was already waiting for the moment you'd show up. The jaw of the attacked man was clenched and rigid, as if he had received a hard blow, and his pale lips were splattered with saliva, on which he was choking. Diego delivered a last exaggeratedly strong kick to the abdomen of the man, who groaned in pain. His chest rose and fell in vain, struggling for air. Diego let him escape, but you had the impression that he didn't want to; not until you showed up.
''Stay calm, (Y/N).'' For the first time, he didn't call you miss. ''I saw your wagon and thought you were around here, but when I got closer, I saw that damn hillbilly sneaking around in your stuff. He won't cause any more problems, but you should be more careful.''
''So you...'' You felt ashamed for having thought that Diego would have any kind of degenerate intentions. ''Was hitting a thief? Well... thanks, I guess. That's...''
''Where have you been, Miss (Y/N)?" In the blink of an eye, you saw the preppy, curious jockey back. ''You seem to be in a hurry.''
''Well... yes, a little. How can I help you? Please, I've to thank you for this.'' You squinted at the staggering thief, who has already moved away from your wagon.
''Just be more careful with your things.''
You approach and nod gratefully. Although Diego was a true gentleman, you were afraid of how violent he might be; then remembered why you were there. Calm down, (Y/N), you thought. Take a deep breath. Once, twice, and once more. Excellent. Come on, it's simple; all you have to do is get rid of Diego and go back to the stables. If Gyro and Johnny found out you were in contact with Dio, they wouldn't trust you anymore. If Diego found out that you were going back to the stables to take care of Gyro, God is the only one who knows what would happen.
You'd climb into the wagon, put your canteen down on the counter, and search the shelves for macela leaves. Diego watched you relentlessly, the way a policeman looks at a potential suspect. You opened your mouth, but no sound came out. You closed your mouth and also your eyes, remaining motionless for a few seconds, hoping that Diego would magically disappear.
''You seem to be quite busy,'' he said. ''are you taking care of a patient?''
Your eyes opened and looked at him. Your heart seemed to freeze as you saw him holding up your canteen and staring at a smudge of green lipstick. You couldn't claim the lipstick was yours when you knew Diego's damn skill made his senses sharp enough to know you were lying.
''Actually, yes.'' You said, pretending not to notice that he picked up your canteen, which was now back on the counter. ''Just a kid with eczema, so I took macela leaves.''
He shook his head and looked at you, straightened up even more in his now upright posture, hooked both thumbs into the waistband of his pants, and leaned against the wagon, glaring at you with all the grace and romance he was accustomed to gesturing; gallantly and with an expression of ghastly boredom.
With your calm hanging by a thread, and the course of this day depending entirely on the eloquence of this unreliable jockey, you should have concentrated on finding out once and for all what he wanted to get rid of him.
You filled the canteen and wiped away the green lipstick stain as quickly as you could, climbed out of your wagon, and looked at Dio.
''Diego...'' You frowned. ''Are you sure you don't need anything?''
''Don't worry about it.'' He leaned over the back of the wagon. ''I was just wondering how you got here.''
''Well, you taught my mule not to stop anymore, so it makes sense that I'm here.''
'' I'm not talking about that.'' He brought his face closer to you. ''Hot Pants. You came with him, didn't you? You were an hour ahead of the other runners, even following the slow pace of your wagon. Did you know that guy?''
''What? No, I don't know Hot Pants. I don't travel with anyone, Diego, I didn't even know I was accompanying him. I got there before you because I know how to take shortcuts.''
''Taking shortcuts in a place you don't know?''
''I've been to many places, this country isn't as unique as they say... Wait a minute! How do you know I don't know this place?'' You gradually softened your voice. ''I mean... by the way... I... what's your deal, Diego?''
He shook off the relaxed expression and slowly looked away from you, focusing on the cityscape in front of him.
''What do you mean?'' He said pragmatically.
''That day in the village... why? You said you didn't attack me, and then you offered to help me and said you learned Cadichon's habits and ... and now you taught a lesson to a guy who wanted to steal my wagon... Why? You attacked Gyro and Johnny, but you're nice to me. Why?''
''Hey, take it easy, (Y/N).'' He said, looking you straight in the eye, in a calm voice. ''I've already said that I have no intention of hurting you... But don't forget, if you prove to be a threat or interfere with my plans, I'll kill you without hesitation, is that clear?''
With a veil of suspicion and disbelief, you sigh and frown. How could he say these things in such a reassuring way?
''I... Diego, look...'' You try to ignore what he's saying. ''I still need to talk to you, but not now...''
''That's what I thought,'' he says. ''You have a child to help, don't you? I don't want to keep you here, go. I'll be right here when you get back.''
He kept looking at you, and you promptly nodded, relieved to have a small, fragile guarantee that Diego wouldn't follow you. With bag, mortar and canteen in hand, you looked at him again. No wonder he was so good with horses, you thought somberly, feeling the remarkable closeness. Diego's voice was disturbingly calm, almost as if he had something strange in mind - and he did, after saying he would kill you without hesitation.
But this distant attempt to calm you down worked subconsciously. If you were a horse, you would let him lead you wherever he wanted, you thought.
This absurd thought, unfortunately, coincided with the clear memory that Gyro was waiting for you, after all. Slowly, it was becoming embarrassingly obvious to anyone that you had no real dislike for Diego. You coughed and cleared your throat, but said nothing. You just walked in long strides, trying to blend in with the crowd so Diego couldn't see where you were going.
Guiding yourself bewilderedly to your well-deserved refuge inside the stables, looking back all the while. You were able to relax when you smelled the manure again and closed the large wooden door behind you.
''Damn, (Y/N)!'' You heard Gyro's voice, much saner this time. ''You took so long that Johnny is already back! What were you doing?''
''Ah... sorry guys.'' You laughed. ''I had to help a kid with eczema.''
You walked up to them. Johnny was sitting on the hay bale again, and Gyro was already on his feet. You stopped in front of the Italian and had to stretch your neck to look at him. It was the classic Gyro. Tall, strong and healthy.
''Wow... That technique is really weird, you look good as new.'' You looked him up and down. ''But apparently, you still haven't recovered enough to put on a shirt, have you?''
''Give me a break, my clothes are still soaked.'' He smiled gently.
''Well, I'm not done with you two yet.'' You prop your hands on your hips and glare at Johnny. ''I still have a lot of work to do today.''