"This isn't like you." He said softly, unable to look away from the sight that laid before him. Aya turned around and eyed him with a raised eyebrow.
"You think?" She teased, her lips quirking up in a half smirk. "And here I thought I was finally becoming more like myself."
Dio stared in distaste as she caressed the cold cheek of a man that laid on her operating table; unmoving, lifeless. Had she been her younger, kid self; then there would be none of that odd sense of affection towards a dead body. It was unsettling, to see her so comfortable in a deadly environment; while she had been as a child quite frightened of the idea of death itself. People do change in wonderous ways...
"Why did you come back, Dio?" She asked suddenly, her back facing him. "I thought you were long gone, I thought death had finally claimed you."
"Death has yet to take me." He answered her, his eye looking down at the pale flesh of his arm. He hadn't aged a day since the tragedy, and it somewhat annoyed him. "Even she wouldn't want me, it seems."
"Why wouldn't she want you?" Aya smiled, "beautiful boy that you are... You'd make such a pretty doll."
His lips pursed into a thin line, displeasure obvious in his eye. Aya could tell that her new-found ideology saddened him to an extent, but he wouldn't cease to hope for her good girl self to return.
He was more than a little stubborn, so she decided to keep teasing him until he would realize... or even better, acknowledge her state of mind.
But it would be too much to ask.
"What caused you to change so drastically?" He murmured, unable to comprehend what went so wrong. It was maddening, frustrating and terrifying at the same time, the way precious Aya suddenly became... this different.
She shrugged nonchalantly, "it's rather obvious, isn't it? You can tell just by looking."
Dio blinked, and Aya spread her arms wide open.
"I have matured, dear Dio. I'm a woman now, believe it or not. Body and soul, they can never remain innocent for too long." She breathed in and smiled pleasantly, "You, on the other hand; haven't changed at all. Perhaps your soul is that of an older, more mature man... but your body and mind remain that of a young, naive little boy."
She approached him, and he backed away very slightly, somehow in disbelief that she had grown to be so tall. He couldn't even reach her shoulders-- his face was but a mere inch away from her chest; chest which he ought to admit was rather larger than your average adult female. Her words were truthful, and for the first time ever, he felt the burden of his rather odd immortality.
Her smiles were so warm and pretty, but void of any true happiness. Had she been the younger Aya, perhaps he could've felt something else aside from pity.
"Though I look like this... I ask that you don't underestimate me." He spoke calmly, not wanting to stay closer to her anymore. It wasn't as though he hated to be shorter than a woman-- no, in that perspective he didn't care, but what had him unsettled was the difference between the Aya he truly knew... and the Aya in front of him.
Dio wasn't one to give up, but he felt as though bringing back the true Aya would be near impossible.
And how he missed that Aya...
"You certainly are interesting, Dio." She laughed merily, "pity that your body is in such a bad shape... I would have employed you as my second assistant."
"No, thank you." He rejected her flatly. "I do not apreciate helping someone that closely resembles my murderer, if you get the drift.."
"My, that story again." Aya sighed and resumed her 'work'. "You keep misunderstanding everything. I don't 'kill' heartlessly. I save people. I free them from their miserable fates and make them immortal, beautiful, eternal." Her eyes sparkled in admiration for her father, fully intending on continuing his works. "I admit my father was... barbaric, in a sense; but trust me when I say that my intentions are good."
"Yes, because killing people in their sleep is fine, I assume?" He spat, his tone sarcastic and briefly annoyed. "You rob them of their lives while giving them false hope, how is that not cruel? Disease or not, they could have at least lived on until their last breath, perhaps even spent some more time with their family. But here you are, telling me that your intentions are good? I am no idiot, Aya, and you are no fool."
She kept working while purposefully keeping her back at him, as if his small speech barely affected her at all. He sighed in frustration and ran a hand through his hair, 'words cannot reach her... She is just as stubborn as her mad father.' He thought briefly, completely lost at what to so next. 'I mustn't let her follow his path ... I have to save her.'
It was then that an idea occured to him. Something simple, something easy. He figured maybe it was stupid too, but desperate times called for desperate measures, he had no other choice but to reach out to his Aya in the closest way--
With that, he approached her; his steps light and barely making any noise. His eye never left her back, which looked broader in his child-like vision. He felt like a small child who was reaching out to his mother, like some tiny little thing who was beyond helpless...
'In all truth, I probably am helpless.' He snorted, but did not stop. Once he was close enough to breathe in her scent; he did it.
He hugged her.
For a moment, he felt her go completely stiff and still from the close contact, a sign that she hadn't really been touchy-touchy feely with anyone in the last fifteen years. Her reaction in itself was enough proof; and Dio couldn't help but feel relieved. Why? He didn't quite know himself.
There was warmth radiating from her, warmth he had felt that day-- when he had kissed her on the forehead. She had tasted sweet, innocent, pure and hopeful ; and he had been so sure, back then, that she would remain that way her whole life.
Now, he wondered if she would still taste the same.
He doubted it.
Aya remained completely still, unsure of how to respond. It wasn't the first time that she had been 'touched' by Dio, and yet for some reason, it felt so different.
For one, had he always been this cold?
"What are you doing?" She asked, clearly curious about this behavior.
"I'm hugging you."
"Yes, that I can tell. But for what purpose?"
"None."
That answer threatened to frustrate her completely; but Aya decided to remain calm. Dio came back for a reason; and it was to change her. Obviously, his little hug was part of it, but she had no intention to be mindful or whatever. It was just a futile attempt at surprising her; nothing more and nothing less.
She breathed in and grabbed his cold arm gently, "Dio, stop this. It won't work."
The blonde boy did not move an inch, "why does it bother you so much?" He asked with a raised brow.
"It does not bother me."
"It does."
"No."
"Then why are you trying to push me aside then?"
Aya sighed.
"Dio- please."
He held her tighter.
"I won't let go of you, Aya. Not now, or ever. You need me, I know it."
Aya pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side, "Are you going to let me go or should I really push you?"
"You wouldn't do that." He murmured gently, and she could tell that he was smiling.
"I would. I could--"
"Aya, this conversation is ridiculous."
"Your hug is ridiculous."
Dio snorted. "What part of it is ridiculous, Aya?"
The dark-haired woman smirked, "well, for one; you're practically groping me, Dio" she pointed out and stared at her chest; where his hands lied just below. He ought to admit, she was definitely well endowed; so much that he could even feel their softness despite not directly touching them.
Needless to say, his hug was a little awkward.
"Is it... uncomfortable?" He asked slowly.
"Mm, I believe so, yes. Gentleman that you are, could you let go?"
He merely lowered his arms so he could hug her hips instead.
"My god Dio-"
"I told you, Aya. I won't let go of you."
Aya sighed once more, an action that might repeat itself for a long while now...