Dio froze.
He touched his own dazzling golden hair, then glanced at Locke's deep brown curls, sinking into a strange silence.
Three seconds later—
"Sigh, I figured as much." He shook his head.
"?"
Grabbing Dio by the collar, Locke yanked him up so their eyes were level.
"What's going on in that little head of yours, brat?"
"Even if there's no blood relation, I'm still your dad!"
Dio's golden hair flew messily as he was shaken, but he still stubbornly pouted.
"Heh. Do you treat Clark the same way then?"
"You're always on his side. I bet he's your real son!"
"Otherwise how do you explain that curly hair that looks just like yours?"
"..."
Choked by this nonsense, Locke set Dio back down and once again summoned Star Platinum.
The purple Stand's fist gleamed in the sunlight with a metallic luster.
"In that case," he said, pointing at the two Stands that looked ready to tear each other apart, "you can keep relying on this to remind yourself I'm your real dad."
"..."
...
Outside the mill, the two of them sat side by side on a haystack.
In the distance, Clark's figure flickered in and out of the wheat fields as he clumsily helped Martha pick up spilled blueberries.
"So," Locke chewed on a stalk of wheat, "all these years you've been picking fights with Clark because you think I favor him?"
"Yeah." Dio stared at the tip of his boot, grinding a pebble underfoot. "He has everything."
His voice was so soft the wind nearly carried it away.
"Aunt Martha knits him sweaters, Uncle Jonathan teaches him how to drive the tractor, even you—"
His fingers clenched tight around the grass stem.
"Whenever the three of us are together, you always seem closer to him. You even sneak him honey candy."
Locke froze.
He rubbed his face, suddenly realizing that all those little details he never gave thought to had carved such deep marks into this sensitive child's heart.
"Dio." He sighed. "I'm sorry."
"But do you know why Clark always comes to talk to me?"
The blond boy turned his head away, refusing to answer.
"Because you said you like quiet." Locke ruffled his hair. "And that silly kid keeps asking me, 'When will Dio talk to me?'"
"I just felt sorry for him, so I chatted with him a little more."
Dio's ears twitched.
"As for the honey candy…"
Locke pulled a crumpled paper packet from his pocket.
"Back then I made a whole pot, but you said 'That's childish, I don't want it.' So I started giving them to Clark instead."
He unwrapped the paper, revealing a few half-melted candies.
The wrappers were decorated with childish star doodles—
exactly like the star-shaped birthmark on Dio's shoulder.
The evening breeze grew quiet.
Dio stared at the sticky candies.
He remembered how Clark, whenever he got candy, would secretly split one and tuck half into Dio's book.
He remembered the big oaf shielding his schoolbag from the rain while letting himself get drenched.
He remembered—
"Idiot."
He grabbed one candy and shoved it in his mouth, the sweetness almost numbing his tongue.
"This stuff's too childish. Only suits Clark."
"Is that so? Then I won't give you any."
Locke smiled, pointing toward the wheat field. "Look at Clark."
In the distance, Clark tripped again, scattering the blueberries all over.
As he scrambled to pick them up, he even knocked Martha's basket over.
"That kid may have super speed, but in daily life he's clumsy as ever." Locke said softly.
"But my Dio—"
He patted the boy's shoulder proudly.
"Seven years old and already helping me repair tractors with what he's learned. Last week, you even solved a calculus problem that gives college students headaches!"
The sunset stretched their shadows long.
And Dio suddenly noticed—when they sat side by side like this, the curls and the golden hair in the shadows actually blended together in harmony.
"Old man."
"Hm?"
"At the next family dinner…"
Dio jumped off the haystack, patting the grass and flour off his pants.
"I want to sit next to you."
Locke watched as Dio walked toward Clark, seemingly about to apologize.
A smile tugged at Locke's lips.
But—
it quickly turned into a face full of question marks.
Wait a second, what did this brat just call me?!
Looking at Dio, who seemed guilty as he quickened his pace and ran ahead, Locke's mouth curled into a sly grin.
"Cafeteria hot sauce!"
"The World!"
Time froze.
Dio only saw a blur—
and the next moment the world spun upside down.
He was slung over Locke's shoulder!
"???"
Eyes wide in shock, Dio's blond hair hung down messily.
"When?! How did you—"
"A father will always be your father, Dio."
Locke smirked wickedly, then brought his hand down with two sharp smacks on the boy's backside.
"Ahh! Wait! I was wrong!"
Flailing in midair, flour still fell from Dio's messy hair.
"This isn't fair! How are you so fast?!"
"This is called parental privilege."
Locke gave him one more swat before finally putting the red-faced kid back on the ground.
Then he glanced toward the half-transparent panel floating in the air:
[Dio Kent, age 8, Stand awakened: The World]
[Sync rate has broken through the critical threshold]
[Loading parental privilege for host]
[Stand: Star Platinum (current time-stop capacity: 0.5 seconds)]
Locke Kent couldn't help but laugh.
He hadn't expected that at 33 years old, he still had some juice left in him—
able to stop time for half a second.
He truly was worthy of the golden body of the Joestar family.
...
In the blink of an eye, three months passed.
Martha and Jonathan went to Washington State to visit relatives.
So Clark stayed at Locke's farm, spending his first elementary school summer vacation together with Dio.
But Kansas summers were fickle and harsh.
The once bright blue sky was devoured in ten minutes by dark, iron-gray clouds, as bean-sized raindrops hammered against the tractor's metal roof.
"Ease up on the throttle! Clutch all the way down!"
Locke shouted over the storm, rain streaming from the brim of his cowboy hat.
"Dio! Don't just stare at the dashboard—watch the road!"
The blond boy's knuckles whitened as he gripped the steering wheel.
Unseen by anyone else, The World hovered at his side, using its golden hands to block rain pouring in through the missing windshield.
"Old man!"
His wet bangs stuck to his forehead as Dio grit his teeth.
"This junk tractor is older than me and Clark put together! Can't you at least put a windshield on it?!"
In the back seat, Clark trembled, trying hard not to laugh—until Dio caught his eye in the rearview mirror and glared.
"What're you laughing at! You got something to say?!"
"S-sorry, I just wanted to…" Clark raised his hand weakly, but before he could finish—
One sharp glare from Locke made him shrink back.
"Both of you, cut it out!" Locke wiped rain from his face. "We're driving!"
Honestly, he kind of missed the Dio from three months ago.
At least back then the brat pretended to be obedient.
The tractor jolted over the muddy ridge. Dio's boot slipped on a puddle, nearly flooring the gas pedal.
The World scrambled for the gear lever, and as its golden hand cut through the rain—
time suddenly froze.
Raindrops hung suspended in the air.
In that 0.1 second of time-stop, Dio managed to shift gears.
"Ha!"
He raised his chin triumphantly.
As expected of me—reflexes that fast!
Splatt!
When time resumed, a splash of mud hit him square in the face.
Locke couldn't help but laugh at the sight.
The brat clearly didn't even know he had a time-stop ability, only triggering it by accident now and then.
"Dio, stop, you're going to hit the fence..."
Locke's voice cut off abruptly.
Because Clark, unable to hold his laughter, had also let out a chuckle—making the blond boy's face flush red.
"Sorry, Dio, I was just trying to—"
"Bastard!"
Bam!
The two boys started wrestling in the cramped cabin, and the tractor swerved like a drunken man across the field.
"You two—!"
Locke's angry roar was drowned out by thunder.
Realizing yelling was useless, he leapt forward, clambered into the driver's seat, and yanked the wheel—
only to see, in the rearview mirror, a strange sight:
Deep in the wheat field, a giant figure staggered toward them, dragging behind it a long trail of blood that the rain quickly washed away.
Dio and Clark froze mid-scuffle, both eyes glowing faintly.
Clark shouted in shock, "Uncle Locke!"
"That man is bleeding! A lot of blood!"