5:02 AM.
The entire inn was quiet.
The bathroom light buzzed. One fluorescent tube, flickering every few seconds like it was tired too.
Cold air and the smell of old soap and bleach was all she inhaled.
Hori stood in front of the mirror. Her eyes were soggy, she barely got any sleep.
She hadn't turned the tap on. Hadn't brushed her teeth. None of that mattered.
Her eyes went straight to her hair.
It was a mess. Tangled at the ends, greasy at the roots.
It hung past her shoulders, heavy. Dragging her face down. But most importantly. It was blonde....
To her at least.
Her fingers came up on their own and gripped a section near her jaw.
Just then, she remembered the remarks of everyone who pointed it out.
The female officer who said it was dark blue.
Haruki that had asked who dyed it.
"Disgusting...." The words fell like saliva. A supernatural phenomenon was taking place on her own head. Blonde natural hair that appeared another color to others.
It made her stomach turn.
On the sink: a cup. A toothbrush. And a pair of small, silver scissors. The ones Haruki used to maintain his long blood red hair.
Sharp and clean blades that seemed to call her.
Hori lifted the scissors.
The metal was cold against her palm.
She didn't close her eyes.
She watched the girl in the mirror.
Snip.
The sound was too loud.
A thick, blonde piece fell into the sink with a soft thud.
It stared back at her.
Snip.
Another one.
Then another.
Hair fell in uneven chunks. Around her ears. At her neck.
She didn't fix it. Didn't try to make it pretty.
At the time, she appeared unfazed by such a dramatic make over. The cuts were getting bolder and more aggressive with each snip.
When she finally lowered the scissors, the sink was full.
Thick, blonde pieces. Some still curled.
All of it ruined...all of it hers.
Hori stared down at the mess.
The buzzing light made it worse. Made everything look sick.
Then reality crashed back into her.
"What am I doing....?" she asked calmly.
She raised her head.
In the mirror, her hair was a disaster. Uneven chunks. Jagged edges.
The ends stuck out at wrong angles. It was ugly. Violent.
The kind of haircut you see on women in old photos. Women who had no one to help them. Women who were tired.
Her hands started shaking. As if realizing what she had just done.
Hori gulped. She needed to fix this.
Haruki was slouched over on the futon in the living room. Fingers moving with stunning accuracy on the controller.
He was entranced in a video game. A different one from last night.
His Red, serpent like eyes had its usual healthy glow. Nobody would suspect he hadn't slept a single hour.
Hori gulped, then called out his name. The early morning drowsiness pulling down her voice.
He hesitated at first. "Uhh, what is it? I'm playing right now." He bit his lip from nearly dying in the game.
"Could you please pause the game? I just need your help with something." Hori pleaded from the shadows, refusing to step outside the tatami floored hallway.
---------------------------------------------------------
Haruki stopped in his tracks as he saw her.
Hori stood there with scissors in one hand and uneven, hacked-off hair falling around her shoulders. For a second his brain couldn't process it. It looked like she'd just walked out of some kind of disaster.
"Why would you do this, Hori?" The words came out sharper than he meant. "Don't you know hair is half a person's beauty!" He genuinely looked worried, as if she was bleeding or something.
Hori didn't flinch. Instead she laughed, light and unbothered, like he was the one overreacting.
"Come on, Haruki-san. It's not that serious."
She lifted a piece of the uneven cut and let it fall.
"I was just keeping a tradition. We called it the yearly trim."
Her smile softened around the edges. "Father always cut my hair for me. Every year, on my birthday. Since he's not around this time... I figured I'd do it myself."
The anger in his chest sank into something heavier.
He exhaled, slow.
"You should've asked me to help."
Hori played with her fingers. "I'm sorry, you looked so serious when playing I didn't want to bother you..." She admitted.
Haruki let out a sigh so long and dramatic that Hori couldn't help but roll her eyes.
"Give me the scissors."
She handed them to him immediately, almost too quickly, like she'd been waiting for it.
"Come on." He motioned for her to follow and carried a tall bar stool into the bathroom. Hori followed, her steps light behind his.
He put the furniture down on the tile floor and tapped it once.
And then Hori smiled — small, warm, and a little relieved.
She settled onto the stool without a word, facing the mirror. The bathroom suddenly felt smaller, warmer — almost like a little salon just for her.
Haruki moved behind her. The towel came down over her chest in one smooth motion, and he tied it loosely at the nape of her neck.
There was something familiar in the way he did it. Like muscle memory.
Snip. Snip.
The scissors glided through Hori's hair, cleaning up the jagged lines he'd been staring at earlier.
Haruki moved with a calm efficiency, like he'd done this before. His hand would come up now and then to sweep the cut hair away with soft, brushing motions.
"All done."
Haruki made one last pass with the scissors, then set them down.
A quick spritz of perfume at the back of her neck made Hori jump a little. She glanced back, curious — since when did he have that?
He followed it with a soft brush through her hair, smoothing everything down.
The towel came off her shoulders, and she caught her reflection.
Haruki stepped back for a bit, admiring his handiwork, and asked, "What do you think?" As he walked forward to gently comb her hair into place, a warm smile spread across his face.
Hori's eyes widened in amazement as she gazed at her reflection. "Wow, I look... like a different person," she breathed, her hand instinctively reaching up to touch the new style. The transformation was striking – her once long, silky locks were now a chic, spiky cut that framed her face in a bold new way.
"I've... never gone this short before." Hori blinked at her reflection, surprised. "I think I like it."
The haircut was blunt and boyish, cutting off all the softness she was used to.
But it framed her face perfectly. The dark blue to others made it stand out even more — daring, a little rebellious.
It oozed personality.
It was nothing like the generic long hair most Tokyo girls had.
"Thank you, Haruki-san," she whispered, bowing deeply. "Once again I am in your debt."
He answered with a grin, reaching out to pat her head.
"It's cool."
His smile faded a little as he looked at her properly.
"But... you did ask for a simple trim. I might've cut too much."
His voice went quiet. He knew how much hair meant to girls.
Hori didn't seem to mind at all.
"No, it's fine! My head is so light now." She shook it, bobbing back and forth like a toy.
Haruki simply smiled.
"Alright, now that that's settled." Haruki pointed at her with way too much enthusiasm. "Your first training task: cold shower."
Hori giggled.
"Don't be silly, Haruki-san. It's already freezing."
She said, admiring her new short hair in the mirror.
...Except Haruki wasn't joking at all.
Some minutes later, Haruki tidied up Hori's room. It was small, with a paper sliding door for privacy.
He casually hauled in a big cloth box and set it down with a loud thud.
"I wore these when I was around 11," he said. "I was pretty tall for my age back then, so they should fit Hori."
Next came the essentials — body cream, perfume and so on. He carefully lined them up on a little wooden box.
Haruki dusted his hands off and gave an awkward smile. "I've never had a roommate before…"
But his eyes said it — he was genuinely excited.
He slipped out of her room just in time, because the next second Hori threw the paper door open with all her strength, shaking violently.
Her teeth chattered.
"W-w-why d-did Haruki-san say th-this was tr-training...! It's t-t-too cold for c-cold showers...!"
She muttered, cursing under her breath.
"I'm f-freezing...!" Hori grumbled.
She didn't have a choice. Haruki was her teacher now, and his orders were law.
She quickly dried her now-short hair with a towel. It barely took any time at all.
From outside, Haruki called back while getting ready for his own shower.
"It's for your own good! I read that cold showers are really beneficial." He teased while heating water for himself.
---------------------------------------------------------
The moment Haruki walked into the kitchen, he froze.
Hori was already there. Doing her chores as promised.
Dressed in Plain red sweater sure to keep her warm, and sweatpants. Casually whisking eggs like she's lived there her whole life.
"You take quite some time in the shower," she teased, sliding the eggs into the pan.
Haruki didn't answer right away. The sight was unfamiliar. A guest in his kitchen. Such a young girl making breakfast like it was normal.
"My...Hair," he muttered, coming to stand by the counter. "It takes time."
Haruki placed a slice of bread in his mouth.
"Not bad for a kid," he said after watching her. Impressed by how quickly she moved.
She shot him a flat look. "It's nothing difficult, just eggs. And I'm a young lady, Haruki-san." Hori corrected him.
It was 6:00 AM by the time they were finished.
Haruki closed the gate to the inn's small fence with a quiet click. Observing the damaged part where that sinner of addiction had attacked.
Brushing it off with a sigh.
"Alright, Let's get going." He said .
Hori nodded and waited for him to begin. She followed behind as they broke into a jog.