Dio watched the little dark haired girl leave as the world around him burned. He had grown attached to her as the night progressed; she was so brave, so smart, so beautiful. He could see why her mother was so desperate to protect her, if Aya were turned into a doll that proud spirit she had would be destroyed. Dio didn’t want that. So he protected the younger girl, just like her mother asked. He hadn’t expected to grow fond of her though.
He wasn’t a fool, he knew it was impossible. Dio was dead, a corpse given life and sustained by the power of a curse cast by a scorned woman; once the night was over and the mansion burned to the ground he would be gone. Even still, he couldn’t help his thoughts. He still asked himself that awful question. What if? What if things were different? Would he have stood a chance then?
Dio was burning; he didn’t much care, he was already dead; it hurt, but only a little, his thoughts hurt far more. A small, vindictive, cruel part of him hoped that the mad scientist that Aya had the misfortune to have as a father was still alive, and that he was burning. That part of Dio wanted the man to suffer, as Dio had suffered, as all of them had suffered.
The bandages on his face burned away, revealing the mess of rotting gore and dried blood where his eye used to be. Dio glanced at the spot in front of the door where his Aya last stood, she was long gone but he could imagine. A small, lonely smile flickered to life for a brief second before it too was burned away.