When Yoh thinks of Anna, he thinks of stone – cold, unyielding, hard. You would only hurt yourself trying to break her.
Yoh knows this, so he doesn’t try. He also knows that she can’t help it so he lets it be, even though dealing with Anna is always a risky business.
Like stone, Anna is rough - he has the scars to prove it.
Scabs, bruises, an aching foot from having a sandaled foot stomped on it. Maybe if he gets enough scars, he'll learn not to bleed.
He knows he won't. He can't help the way he is either, and Anna knows this.
Deep in the woods around the house there's a spring of sweet, clear water running down moss and pebbles. The stones, when he absently grazes his knuckles on them drinking, are cool, hard - smooth, sharp edges washed away by ever-flowing time and water.
Anna has her kindnesses too. Looks she thinks no one sees, fleeting half-smiles, small things she's slowly learned over their years together.
Water flowing over stone always leaves its mark.