Dearest Aya (Mad Father)

1

"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."