Locke's Bottom Line

Morning dew still clung to the wheat stalks, reflecting a golden gleam beneath the rising sun.

Locke walked along the ridges between the fields, his boots crunching through the damp soil.

With Clark beside him, he bent down from time to time to inspect the flattened stalks.

After all, last night's storm and the monster's rampage had devastated quite a few oats that were nearly ripe.

As for Dio?

Dio was probably still asleep. For some reason, no one had been able to wake the boy that morning.

Like a little pig, he had rejected Clark's invitation to get up with snores.

"That kid..."

Locke wiped the sweat from his brow and glanced back toward the farmhouse. "What exactly did you two do last night?"

"He couldn't even bring himself to get up for blueberry pancakes."

At the mention of pancakes, Clark swallowed.

He had eaten four servings by himself that morning, including Dio's portion.

"It's fine, Uncle Locke. I can do Dio's work too."

"Clark," Locke said helplessly, "you spoil him too much."

He took Clark's hand and pulled him closer, carefully studying his complexion.

Sunlight fell across the curly-haired boy's face, edging it with gold.

Though he was still a little pale, those blue eyes had regained their usual brightness.

Kryptonite's effects had nearly faded away.

"Clark, stay away from those green stones from now on." Locke's expression turned solemn. "If someone approaches you with one, the moment you see it, even if all you do is throw rocks at them, don't fight them up close. Understand?"

"That stone..."

"It can make your strength disappear."

"It can dull your senses, like..."

Clark shuddered at the words, recalling the terrifying helplessness from the night before.

It had felt as though someone had pulled every bone from his body!

Back then, even breathing had felt like a luxury.

"But, Uncle Locke." He blinked in confusion. "What if bad people threaten you, and they have green stones too...?"

"Then you need to keep your distance even more!"

Locke suddenly raised his voice, startling the sparrows perched on the field ridges into flight.

"Listen, Clark." He bent down, scooped up a handful of dirt, and let the brown grains sift through his fingers. "Every farmer knows that when dealing with a locust plague, you don't charge into the swarm and start throwing punches."

"You drive them away with smoke first."

"So..." Clark slowly clenched his fists. "If I see green stones..."

"Treat them like a burning barn."

Dio's voice abruptly cut in.

At some point, he had appeared behind them, still eating half a pancake.

"Even an idiot knows to sound the alarm or find water first, instead of rushing in to save a sack of oats and getting himself hurt."

The blond boy viciously bit into his pancake, his red eyes like two flickering flames in the sunlight.

He had buttoned his shirt wrong by two buttons, and his hair was a mess—

Clearly, he had gotten up in quite a hurry.

Locke raised a brow. "Finally willing to get out of bed?"

"Shut up! You're the dad who couldn't wake me!" Dio stuffed a pancake into Clark's hand, then turned toward the flattened field. "I came to supervise the big idiot while he works!"

Clark looked at the warm pancake in his hand, its edges still spread with blueberry jam, and smiled. His blue eyes curved into crescents.

"Dio, thank you..."

"Shut up! Eat your pancake!"

". . . Okay."

The tsundere Dio and the guileless Clark.

Locke couldn't help finding it amusing.

He really wanted to know what these two children would be like when they grew up.

"Hey."

"You two." Locke stopped and pointed toward the middle of the field. "Look at that stalk."

"?"

They stopped at the same time and followed his finger, spotting a single stalk standing stubbornly upright amid the countless flattened oats.

Its heavy, full head bowed slightly, swaying in the morning breeze like a proud general.

"Wow!"

"That's so cool!"

Clark jogged over and carefully touched the stalk. "It's so strong! Uncle, do you want us to be like it?"

"Now you're answering before I even ask?"

Locke couldn't hold back a laugh. "Clark, you're growing up too."

"But what I want you to look at is..."

His tone shifted as he crouched down and ran his fingers over the fallen stalks beside it. "These."

The flattened wheat was stained with mud, and some of it had even snapped.

Heads that had once been full now lay scattered in the dirt, their bent stems lifeless.

"Listen carefully, you two."

Locke's voice was soft, yet every word was clear. "Standing tall is certainly something to be proud of, but falling down doesn't mean you've failed."

He snapped a fallen stalk, revealing the fresh green cross-section within.

"Look, they're still alive."

"As long as they aren't blown away, this storm will make their roots grow deeper. Next year, after taking in more nutrients, they'll grow even sturdier."

Clark blinked. Then he suddenly crouched beside Locke and began inspecting the stalks like his uncle.

"So, that future Giorno talked about..."

Locke gave a helpless laugh.

Clearly, though the boy kept saying he didn't care, he actually cared deeply inside.

He asked whenever he got the chance.

"It's like these fallen stalks."

Picking up where Clark had left off, Locke brushed the mud from his pant leg. "It's only a little hardship. Just focus on growing, and nature's miracles will bring forth new life."

"No, no, no."

"Dad, you're wrong."

Apparently...

There was always a rebellious son ready to argue with Locke.

Dio stood on the field ridge with his arms folded, his red eyes gleaming with defiance. He stepped into the wheat field, his boots crushing the soft, wet earth, then crouched and pointed at the fallen stalks.

"I've read books, you know."

"Out in the wild, these fallen stalks won't make it to next year."

"They'll rot, grow moldy, and eventually become nourishment for that 'lucky one.'"

The boy poked the lone upright stalk, making grains rustle down, then snorted coldly.

"I, Dio, have no intention of becoming anyone's nourishment."

Locke froze, sunlight flickering in his astonished eyes.

Survival instinct?

Wasn't that the dark will?

He hadn't expected Dio to be capable of thinking that far already.

"Interesting." The corners of Locke's mouth slowly rose. "So you want to be the one that stands until the very end?"

"Of course!" Dio lifted his chin, but then frowned. "But..."

His gaze swept across the entire field, and a trace of confusion flashed in his red eyes.

"I actually want to..."

"How about this?" Clark looked at Dio, then at Locke, and suddenly cut in. "Can I be the field ridge?"

Both Kents turned toward him at once, wearing identical looks of confusion.

"Look."

Clark gestured excitedly, his blue eyes sparkling.

"A field ridge can't be blown over by the wind, and it can protect the wheat from being trampled..."

"Idiot!" Dio smacked Clark on the head. "A field ridge is dead! You're alive! Besides, a field ridge has to sacrifice itself and get stepped on every day!"

"Hiss..."

"Clark, is your head made of iron?!"

Watching the two boys roughhouse, Locke suddenly burst into laughter.

His laughter startled the skylarks from the wheat field, and they fluttered toward the brilliant blue sky.

"Alright, boys." He pressed a hand onto each of their heads. "A thousand people have a thousand Hamlets in their hearts."

Dio frowned. "Hamlet what?"

"It means..." Locke thought for a moment, then put it another way. "Some people want to be the wheat stalk that stands tall, while others want to be the field ridge. Either is fine."

"But remember—"

His expression suddenly became serious, and he tapped each boy on the chest. "You can become anyone you want to be."

"But you must never become a bad person."

The sunlight seemed especially bright at that moment, casting the three of their shadows across the wheat field, stretching them long, long into the distance.

Dio's red eyes flickered faintly, golden specks of light clung to Clark's curls, and Locke's voice fell silently into their hearts like seeds.

"This is what I, Locke Kent, ask of you..."

"My final bottom line."