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PROLOGUE
Habit. A regular tendency or practice, one that is hard to give up; an addiction.
Every living being has a habit. Whether good or bad. However, it depends on us what we choose.
It can range from eating dinner at a particular time every day to skipping meals. From sleeping for 12 hours to getting a 30 minute nap. Or driving too fast to too slow. That's just how human nature works.
Everyone has some habits, which allow them to remain in their comfort zone and spend the rest of their lives living on those, and that is totally fine. If you want a normal life, that is.
However, where there's peace, chaos always enfolds at some given point.
Dark clouds hovered in the ever-lasting black sky, cool whorls of wind roamed the cramped city. In one of the many houses of the very city, an old, sick man called out to his son, coughing. Several empty bottles of alcohol were scattered on the ground, as well as near the lamp. The room in which the old man and his son sat didn't comprise many lavish things, only the needed items. Once again, the man cried out his son's name, reaching his hand out. "Dio! Are you deaf, boy?!"
The boy named Dio closed his book with a tired sigh, most likely wondering what his father wanted. He got up from his chair, placed the book on the table, and asked his father, trying his best to be polite. "What do you want, Father? Medicine?"
His father blurted out curses, telling him he didn't want any snake oil. Picking up an empty bottle of alcohol, he ordered. "If you have money, go buy me some booze!" Dio frowned harder as he glared at his so-called father, tired of his father's pathetic wishes. Was this man seriously asking for more alcohol when he was so near to meeting death? The mentioned man threw the bottle in his son's direction, which was dodged by the 12-year-old with a tilt of his head.
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Dear Y/n,
I will keep this letter as short as possible.
Visit your mother's graveyard 12 days from now. At exactly 6:37 am, you will come across a boy your age named Dio Brando. His hair is blond and a mean look is etched on his face. Meet him and help him reach his goal. Help him till your last breath, please. I can't tell you why, but the only thing you must know is your mother was great friends with his mother and this was your mother's last wish.
Your father.
The blood-stained letter in your hands made your brows furrow in annoyance. A 'tch' sound resonated from your lips. Getting up from the chair you were sitting on, you walked up to the fireplace and threw the letter in it. With an irritated sigh, you watched it burn, orange hues illuminating on your face from the blazing fire. "Talk about annoying."
12 days... Dio Brando, eh? You thought, e/c eyes shifting from the fire to the wooden floor before your lips curled up in an amused smirk. Let's see what's so special about you, Dio.
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You looked at yourself in the mirror with an impassive stare, checking your attire. A long, navy blue dress which reached down to your ankles along with a white puffed sleeves and a black corset underneath it adorned your body. "This is fine, I suppose."
Y/n left the house and walked to the graveyard, which was a 30-35 minutes walk. Thoughts and questions filled your mind. Why was this guy so important? What was his 'goal'? Couldn't your mother possibly think of a better last wish before she died? Why does she have to suffer the consequences of the dead?
Due to all the thinking, you overlooked the fact that you had reached the graveyard. You drifted your eyes from the ground to your right and spotted a boy around your age standing near a grave, his head downcast. As you kept walking towards him, you realized how tall he was for his age. If it weren't for the blond hair, you would've thought he was someone else. You hid behind a tree as you observed him with narrowed eyes.
Dio didn't notice the unwanted stranger observing him as he was drowned in his thoughts, looking down at his father's grave.
You were ugly and sly. The blond thought. You drove mom to death. You were a terrible father! You want me to be rich? Don't worry. I will be. And I'll use any means necessary. Dio clenched his fist, which held the letter given to him by his father as rage filled him. I'll start with this Joestar. He spat on his father's grave before he grabbed his suitcase and started to walk away.
However, before he could completely leave the place, an unfamiliar voice called out to him. "Dio Brando." The said boy halted in his place, narrowing his eyes. He didn't recognise this voice. When he turned around, he saw a girl standing a few feet away from him, a small smile developed on her face. "Finally, I meet you."
How does she who I am? Dio thought.
"Who are you and how do you know my name?" the blond asked, frowning harder.
You noticed his features. His blond hair reached down at his nape, forming a mullet as a few tufts fell on his face. A frown dressed his face, just like your father had mentioned in the letter. If this was actually the Dio your father was talking about, then you sure would have to work a lot to get him to warm up to you.
Your smile widened, which was fake for obvious reasons, and replied, waving your hands to indicate you meant no harm. "No need to be so hostile." Lowering your hands, you looked at him in amusement. "As for your question, my name is Y/n L/n. I know your name because my mother was great friends with your mother."
His eyes softened for a second upon hearing about his mother before his glare returned. Dio doesn't remember his father ever mentioning someone called L/n. There's a possibility you could've been lying.
Y/n read his face and understood what he was thinking. "I understand if you don't trust me. If I were in your position, I wouldn't either." Your smile faded and turned into a serious expression. "The only reason I'm talking to you right now is because I want to help you reach your goal."
Dio seemed taken aback. By your sudden change in the mood and the answer. Were you serious or did you just wanted him to say something he might regret later? Nevertheless, he was amused by you. He wanted to know more about you. Wanted to learn how much you knew about him. And last, how could you be of help to him.
The blond inquired with a smug smirk, "And what do you think my plan is?" Silence ensued for a moment as the words left his mouth.
Your empty, serious gaze morphed into a bright grin. "I have no idea!"
His eyes widened slightly as your personality took yet another 180 before an annoyed sigh escaped his lips. You spoke up again, "Let's go somewhere warmer, shall we? Talking about such a matter at a graveyard isn't very pleasant."
---To Be Continued--->
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Heyy, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter :) I would try to keep Dio's personality as original as possible (which would probably be a bit difficult).
