The hoot of an owl outside startled the sparrows dozing on the fence.
Dio, annoyed, grabbed his pillow and chucked it at Clark, only for Clark to catch it midair with ease.
"I don't want you to die. So even if I'm terrified of drowning, I'd still dive in to pull you out."
"…"
Clark's earnest look was too much for Dio to handle.
"Go to sleep!" Dio barked, climbing back into his bed and cocooning himself in the blankets.
"I'm never gonna die now or ever!"
"Clark, that's just one possible future!"
"If you keep this up, I'm jumping into an ice hole right now!"
"…Oh."
Moonlight spilled into the room, illuminating their two small beds.
"Dio…" Clark whispered. "So, am I really gonna become an emperor someday?"
Clearly, Clark was still hung up on what Jotaro had said.
Dio, buried in his blankets, couldn't help but snicker. "Clark, do you even know what an emperor is?"
"Of course I do!" Clark shot up, his eyes glinting with determination in the dark. "It's those bad guys in gold robes from historical dramas! Every time an emperor shows up on TV, Dad points and says—"
He lowered his voice, mimicking Jonathan's gruff tone: "Look at that tyrant, Clark! That's why America fought for independence!"
Dio's red eyes rolled in the darkness. "Idiot, that's just TV."
He yanked his pillow over his face, muffling his voice. "A real emperor has to…"
"Have to grade homework every day?" Clark cut in. "Like how Uncle Lock checks our math problems?"
"Pfft—"
Dio flung the pillow off his face, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Moron! Emperors don't deal with that stuff! They… they…"
He froze.
In the moonlight, the two boys stared at each other, both realizing an awkward truth—
Neither of them had any clue what a real emperor actually does.
"Whatever!" Dio snapped, grabbing another pillow in embarrassment. "An emperor wears dumb gold clothes and some weird donut-shaped crown, shouting about 'this world' and 'that world,' like…"
"Like what?"
Creak.
The door eased open, and the hallway light cast Lock's tall shadow across the floor.
He rubbed his temples, clearly dragged out of bed by their noise.
"You two," Lock sighed, exasperated. "You've woken me up three times already."
"Dio, your bed-kicking is loud enough to scare the barn mice."
"Uncle Lock, we might not have any barn mice left," Clark said, scratching his head sheepishly.
"Hey!" Lock chuckled despite himself. "You little rascal."
Seeing Lock laugh, Clark seized the moment to whisper, "Uncle Lock… am I really gonna turn out like Jotaro said?"
Lock looked down at the unease in Clark's moonlit eyes and sat between their beds, the mattress groaning under his weight.
He ruffled Clark's curly hair and glanced at Dio, who was pretending to be asleep.
"Listen, Clark," Lock said softly. "Your future's not set in stone. You don't have to live up to anyone else's version of it. You're not the emperor in Jotaro's story, just like…"
He paused for effect. "Dio's not the dad who dies in it."
Dio's blankets twitched.
Clark blinked. "So… I don't have to become that? And Dio won't die?"
"That's because responsibility doesn't work that way, dummy!" Dio threw off his blankets and sat up, his blond hair flaring like an angry cat's. "Responsibility is—"
"Milking the cows every morning?" Lock interrupted, a sly glint in his eye.
Dio choked. "No way! Responsibility is obviously—"
"Paying your farm taxes on time?"
"Dad!"
"Remembering to fuel the tractor?"
"…"
Dio summoned The World, his expression dead serious, ready to launch an attack on his father.
"Alright, alright." Lock pressed a hand on each boy's head, snuffing out Dio's rebellious spark with a grin. "Responsibility isn't some burden someone else dumps on you. It's what happens when you see something that needs doing, and you've got the ability to do it."
"It's a choice you make naturally."
"Like how Martha gets up early to make breakfast—not because anyone told her to, but because she knows we love it."
Lock's voice softened. "Or how Jonathan, despite his aching back, fixes the fence so the lambs don't get loose."
"Clark, when you were five and your senses started getting too sharp, you didn't want to leave the house."
"Jonathan and I skipped planting that season's crops."
"That was our choice, because we love you. We took on the responsibility of staying home with you until you adjusted to your senses."
"And the cost? Two months of eating nothing but potatoes."
"But we got something good out of it—you can go out and live like anyone else now."
"Choices…" Clark's eyes lit up.
But Dio frowned. "What if… what if you make the wrong choice?"
He thought back to earlier that night, torn between running away or fighting alongside his father.
If he'd chosen to fight with him…
"Then you learn the cost of growing up," Lock said.
"But the important thing is to always remember why you made that choice."
Lock stood and headed for the door but turned back with a grin. "Oh, and one more thing. You've got a choice to make right now. If I hear another peep out of you two…"
"We'll have to clean up all the chicken manure on the farm tomorrow?" Clark asked innocently.
"Nope!" Lock flashed a devilish smile. "You'll have to eat Dio's blueberry pie."
"Hey!"
The door shut just as a pillow smacked against it.
Moonlight poured back into the room, bathing the two small beds.
Clark whispered again, "Dio, if I choose to become an emperor, what would you choose to do?"
"You're such a pain, Clark!" Dio rolled over, his red eyes meeting Clark's blue ones. He enunciated each word: "If a moron like you became emperor, it'd mean the world's doomed. So if you ever turn out like that…"
"I'll kick you off your throne."
Clark froze for two seconds, then broke into a grin, showing off his little tiger teeth.
"Deal! Dio, you can't die—you've gotta knock me off that throne."
"Idiot," Dio muttered, wrapping himself back into his cocoon. "Who's making deals with you?"
The room fell quiet, their steady breathing slowly syncing up.
But Dio, facing away from Clark, stared into the darkness, his red eyes unnaturally bright.
Choices.
If that idiot Clark became emperor, the world would fall apart.
Better if I take the throne.
Turn the whole world into the Kent family farm—imagine how much wheat Dad could harvest. He'd be thrilled.
Dio grinned at the thought.
But then…
If Clark didn't become emperor, what would he do?
Taking over Dad's farm? Dio couldn't even imagine it.
He couldn't bear to think of a day when Lock was gone, leaving him to run the farm.
And honestly, compared to farming with Clark, Dio would rather study physics.
Gravity was way more interesting than planting crops.
Lost in thought…
"Clark!" Dio called out.
Was he actually about to ask for his opinion?
But…
Snore, snore, snore.
Clearly, the exhausted boy was out cold.
"Careless jerk," Dio grumbled, clutching his blanket.
Was he… having trouble sleeping?
He tried counting sheep, but they all turned into Clark wearing golden armor. He tried reciting the periodic table, but every element twisted into the shape of a crown.
"Damn it…"
Barefoot, Dio crept out of bed and tiptoed to the desk.
Moonlight illuminated his secret notebook, where a bold title was scrawled—
Dio's Perfect Life Plan.
[Option A: Physicist]
Dio nodded.
Maybe he could study time and space, travel to the future, and give his rebellious kid a good smack.
[Option B: Farmer]
Dio shook his head.
A grown-up Clark could probably handle two farms' worth of work alone.
Even if Dad passed away, Dio wouldn't need to lift a finger—Clark would have it covered, and Dio could just kick back and take a cut of the profits.
And the third…
His pen hovered over the page, ink blotting tiny black dots.
[Option C: Emperor]
Dio smirked at his new addition.
Honestly, that had some serious pull.
He remembered emperors could exile people.
Glancing at the sleeping Clark, Dio let out a sly chuckle.
If that day ever came, he'd exile Clark to Antarctica to raise penguins.
Let's see you love your ice holes then!