Fathers. Yoh doesn't trust them either. He gives her a bitter little smile, "we were walking evidence. Minatsuki never had marks on her face, dad said she was too pretty." He says "dad" with such spite. "But my eyes were black half the time, bruises all over, welts. No one cares, Aoko. I've never met anyone who cares...besides you." He looks up at her. "You actually do. You helped me when you didn't even know me, you ripped up your own scarf for me. Most people I know would kill over a scarf. I'm not going to pretend I understand it or that I would do the same thing, because fuck it, I can't and I wouldn't, but..." he pauses and studies her face, "it's just one of the things that makes you beautiful." His heart is pounding in his chest, telling the truth for him was as hard as lying was to some people. It was hard to wrap his mind around, let alone his tongue. But now it was pouring out and Yoh knew he couldn't stop himself. He hadn't been this honest in years. He hadn't been this honest since before his mother died.