*Quietly dumps bucket of pure, D-Grade stereotype angst on computer*
Yin came to see him days later. She didn't seem angry or truly upset with him, just slunk through the window and remained there, perched on the sill.
"So," she said. "Did you think about what I said?"
He looked up at her from his bed. "Yes."
She stayed silent, just looking at him.
"Teach me to read," she said suddenly. When Dio looked again, she was actually blushing.
"What?"
"You heard me," she snapped, face still flushed. Then her voice softened. "Please. You - you really like those books that you have, so I... just wanted to try reading one."
"I don't have them anymore. He sold them."
Silence. They both knew who he was talking about.
"Dio..."
He didn't respond, just glanced away.
She moved across the room to his side, sitting next to him. He stared down, sightless, as she wound a thin arm around his waist, head brushing his.
Dio didn't move, didn't blink, didn't look up. He just sighed.
Then the front door of the house opened and closed. He jumped slightly as Y/N retracted her arm and flew to the windowsill, gone in seconds.
Suddenly, Dio felt cold.
He didn't see Yin for a few days after that, but when she did reappear, it was at the worst possible time. As his father stormed out of the house, broken neck of a bottle clutched in one hand, Dio laid on the floor in pain. Father has hit his shoulder this time, and it burned like hell, an ache reaching all the way into the bone.
The door opened.
Instantly a flare of alarm surged through Dio, filling him with warmth and adrenaline. If Father was back... If...
Yin had been right, she had been right the whole time. He had come back and now he was going to beat him to death. Dio couldn't take another beating from him, he'd-!
"Dio?"
Dio froze.
Yin?
He heard a clatter as she rushed to him.
Yin almost had a heart attack when she stepped into the main room to find the collapsed form of her only real friend. Words froze and she followed suit, a spike of fear running through her.
"Dio?"
The books she had been holding fell to the floor as she moved toward him, falling to her knees and rolling him over. Orange eyes stared up at her as she watched his chest rise and fall, rise and fall. He was still alive, for now, and she quickly went to work, tears spilling over.
Frantic, she whispered, "Hey!"
"Yin..." he managed to croak.
"I got your books," she said through the tears. "The ones he sold. I visited every shop in the area to get them."
Her shoulders shook gently as she helped him up, moving toward his room. He slumped against her, barely finding the strength to stay conscious, let alone walk.
She put him down on his bed and pulled his shirt open, identifying the damage done.
He could feel her tears as they fell. He barely managed to get out the words.
"Why?"
She worked faster. "Why what?"
"Why do you care?"
Yin looked down on him, smiling through the tears.
"Someone has to care," she whispered. "Someone has to start. If no one cares, we won't get anywhere."
Her hands worked.
"Your father doesn't care. The people on the streets don't care. You don't care. But I do.
"I care."
Inspired by the Way of Kings.