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Yuuri loved the silence of Okukawa’s hairdressing salon at evenings. At the time when the last shift was almost over and there were no customers even the most talkative administrator of the salon and Yuuri's best friend Phichit became quiet. It was the time which Yuuri enjoyed the most. The time for his dreams.
Yuuri just needed to inhale smells of the salon, close his eyes and free his imagination. Then he could see everything. He could see himself praised by decent amount of regular customers, could see himself as a champion of OMC World Cup. Also he could see how after five or ten years he would become good enough to have his own salon and... He felt almost guilty because of that particular dream, but he still couldn’t scratch it no matter how much he tried. So he just hoped that one day he would become as good as his teacher Okukawa Minako or even his salon would be the best hairdressing salon of Japan. Of course, now it was the most unrealistic dream for a twenty years old beginner hair stylist like Yuuri, but he was ready to chase after that dream even if it meant to do it whole his life. And now after he had started to work in Okukawa’s hairdressing salon this dream looked a little bit more possible.
The chime of bells at salon’s front door disturbed Yuuri from his daydreaming. A little bit startled the hairdresser looked at the clock above his head. It was only ten minutes before salon’s closing time. Yuuri sighed. As much as he loved his job he was really tired, so the late customer wasn’t the most welcomed person right now.
Unfortunately Yuuri had to get up anyway. Today he was the only worker of the salon's late shift. The unexpected wave of flu among salon’s workers and the broadcast of NHK Trophy’s figure skating competition had made disappear even healthy Phichit and dedicated to her work Minako-sensei. Yuuri just wasn’t capable to decline anything to Phichit’s puppy eyes, and, of course, he couldn't stop his boss from taking a day off. So now the hairdresser was mentally preparing himself to say ‘no’ to the late visitor.
Yuuri stopped to check himself on the mirror. He tidied with a hand his dark hair, fixed the dark blue apron, dressed over his simple white button up shirt and dark trousers, and put the most polite expression on his face. Only then the hairdresser felt ready to see who was waiting him near the administrator's desk.
All prepared words disappeared from Yuuri’s head the moment he saw a foreign man at the entrance of the salon. The slim, tall young man looked like a couple of years older than Yuuri himself. The customer was dressed in black hoodie, dark worn-out jeans and mismatching to other clothes shiny and looking very expensive shoes. Strangely it wasn’t man’s face, almost hidden under dark hood, what made Yuuri freeze. Although even with the hood the hairdresser could swear that it was the most gorgeous face he had seen in his life. But one look at foreigner’s eyes took all dark-haired man’s ability to talk. Yuuri was sure that usually the sight of those cerulean blue eyes had to be millions dollars worth life experience. But right now, red and puffy after a long crying, those eyes were the most heartbreaking view Yuuri could imagine.
“Hello. Welcome to Okukawa’s hairdressing salon. How can I help you?” Yuuri’s mouth automatically repeated memorized customers greeting.
“Um,” it seemed like the stranger wasn’t prepared to the question. Yuuri quietly wondered what made the man come to hairdressing salon without a goal. “I-” the customer hesitated another moment before taking off his hood.
Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat the moment foreigner's long shining strands became free from dark fabric's imprisonment. Like a liquid silver they flowed down to customer’s waist, mesmerizing Yuuri by their perfection.
“Can you… can you shave it?” Yuuri tried to focus on silver-haired man's voice, but he was still too enchanted by hair beauty to believe his ears.
Who in their right mind would want to destroy such a treasure with shaving? That strange demand definitely didn’t make any sense.
“I need to get rid of them,” the stranger repeated more persistent this time. “Can you shave it for me? Please.”
It still sounded too crazy to be real, so no wonder that Yuuri for a moment forgot all rules about how to behave with clients and blurted out his most vital question, “Why?”
Of course, he immediately regretted his mistake.
“I mean- I-... They are so beautiful!” Yuuri tried to explain his slip. “How is it possible to want even cut them, not speaking about shave?”
And again Yuuri was terrified about his own words. Had he just a few seconds ago implemented that the customer was insane? The hairdresser paled. He worriedly looked at the man, afraid of his reaction and looking for a way to take his words back.
But the stranger in front of him didn’t look mad. He didn’t look even offended. The only change was in foreigner’s eyes. Yuuri felt how his heart shattered the moment a wave of sadness fogged light blue gems in front of him.
It wasn’t fair! How somebody so beautiful could be so sad and so broken? Who could do something so terrible to that man?
“I-” Stranger's voice was hoarse, and he was forced to clear his throat, before answering Yuuri's question, “I just can't live with them anymore. I can't look at them anymore. Can you..?” the man stumbled and became quiet, making Yuuri feel even more miserable.
Yuuri hesitated. He couldn’t decide what to do. As a hairdresser he suffered only of a thought of damaging this silky silver beauty in any possible way. As a human he couldn’t stand the tortured gaze of the stranger and felt like he was ready to do anything if it made the man in front of him feel better.
“Yes, I can do it,” Yuuri-human won, although Yuuri-hairdresser was still agonizing about inevitable loss. Probably it was the reason why he had suddenly lost his control and added, “But before shaving I have to wash it.”
The shock made Yuuri freeze. Why did he say that? Yuuri wondered if that words’ slip was caused by his inability to suppress strange persistent need to touch man's hair, to find out if the strands were as soft as they looked like. Or was he trying to delay the moment when silk locks would fall to the floor? Yuuri wasn't sure, but he so badly wanted to take his words back. The hairdresser would do it immediately if he wasn't afraid to look even more creepy when he did it. So he nervously searched any suitable explanation for his crazy words, waiting for the customer to freak out and run away from the salon. But the man only arched a silver brow, like he wanted to ask something, and let corners of his lips tug into ironical smile. Just for a second he looked so perfect. But it lasted only a short moment, and than man’s face expression momentary changed back to a sad frown.
“If you need,” the stranger shrugged and followed Yuuri to main room of the hairdressing salon.
Yuuri's hands slightly trembled while he seated the customer to the chair near the sink, covered his shoulders with a cloth, set the right temperature of water. The dark-haired man just couldn't stop the thought that after a few seconds he would be finally allowed to touch that silky treasure. The hairdresser carefully caressed silver strands… just to make them soak faster, of course. They were even softer than he had imagined.
Yuuri removed his hand from man's hair only to take a bottle of the shampoo with slight orange’s aroma. The scent of that shampoo reminded him of the soap that his mom had used to bath him in childhood. He still remembered the soothing feeling of gentle mother’s touches with sponge, light aromas of roses and oranges, mom’s calm voice, singing a melodic Japanese song. Yuuri hoped that that aroma could help the sad stranger to feel better. The hairdresser added shampoo and started to slowly massage man’s scalp.
Yuuri found himself fascinated by customer’s face. His skin was so white and smooth that it was hard to believe that the man was a human being. His lips had an ideal shape, and the slight plump of the lower lip screamed how perfect it would be for kissing. Yuuri blushed and hurried to banish that thought.
He watched how man’s closed eyelids were trembling while he enjoyed the hair wash, how the hurt expression of customer’s face changed to more relaxed, and Yuuri’s heart melted. He was charmed. A small smile appeared at the foreigner's face, and the man's handsomeness became irresistible. Yuuri wasn't sure if he was capable to think.
Apparently he was not. Because nobody with properly working brain could do what the hairdresser did at the next moment. Just a few minutes ago he made the sad man feel a little bit better, and shouldn’t open his mouth again. But Yuuri could do nothing after words “So... um… what are you doing in Japan?” casually got off his tongue.
Oh, no, no, no! He wasn’t ready to see that heartbroken expression on his client's face again. But he couldn't take his eyes off the man under his care. He needed to see what damage was done.
“Have you heard about NHK Trophy?” foreigner's eyes were still closed, his face was calm and... What was this? Was it a smirk on man's lips? Yuuri hoped that it was an obvious sign that after all he didn’t make a mistake, piquing that theme for a conversation.
“Um- the figure skating competition?” the hairdresser clarified, continuing their small talk.
“So you know,” the customer stated.
Of course, Yuuri knew. Everyone would know about something what was advertised at every corner of the town for a previous month.
“Are you a fan or a skater?” Yuuri couldn’t stop himself to ask the next question. He wasn’t sure if it was because of curiosity, the stranger has suddenly awakened in him, or it was because of how wonderful silver-haired man’s voice sounded when it wasn’t full of sadness. The hairdresser still hoped that the customer doesn’t mind that topic, so he was relieved to see the man smiling.
“It’s hard to be a good skater if you are not a fan of the sport. So the answer is - both.” Yuuri didn’t like the sound of sigh that followed stranger’s answer, “Tho, I forgot when I could simply enjoy competitions as a spectator.”
It wasn’t the same sorrow what Yuuri had seen a few minutes ago, but man’s face didn’t look happy again. Or… he wasn’t unhappy, just frustrated. But that sight made the hairdresser want to get stranger’s relaxed smile back. His brains frantically looked for any other good topic.
“So you are sure that you are a good skater?” a question slipped again, and Yuuri felt an urge to smack himself on lips. How could he be so rude? Why weren’t his brains capable to filter words?
Yuuri stole a look to a stranger’s face, but all he saw was a confident grin.
“Not me. The world is sure,” blue eyes shone teasingly as if were daring Yuuri to say anything to this statement.
“That you a good?” Why? Why he couldn’t stop asking those idiotic questions?
“The best, actually,” man’s grin became even wider. “The best in senior men’s single skating for a couple of years. And you-” his eyes darted to a tag on hairdresser’s uniform with Yuuri’s name, spelled in Japanese and English, “Yuuri? Are you a good hairdresser?”
Yuuri’s cheeks blushed. After so much stupid questions he deserved something like that. There was no doubt that even if Yuuri had some achievements at his field of work he wasn’t good enough for world’s best figure skater. And he could only admit that aloud.
“I- um…” even if Yuuri was ready to accept his own nullity he couldn’t do it, looking in customer’s eye. Trying to hide himself from silver-haired foreigner’s gaze, the hairdresser started to dry man’s hair with a towel. “I’ve got only the second place in the last national hairdresser’s competition. And I’ve never applied for any international competition. Not that I could win them. Probably I couldn’t, but even if I could... I mean... Um-” He tried to get back to his thoughts’ track, “After I got my second place the last year, and Minako-sensei offered to work with her I couldn’t lose this chance to learn something from world’s best hairdresser just to go to win a few trophies. She promised that I’d get this work even if I need some time to try myself before it, but what if I was terrible in the international competition and disappointed her or she just changed her mind. And I couldn’t let down my family who did so much to give me possibility to do what I wanted...” Yuuri abruptly stopped his speech and put the towel away. “Sorry, I was rambling.”
“No, no, it’s okay,” the man on salon’s chair assured him. “It was very interesting. But- world’s best hairdresser?” Yuuri heard a hidden question in foreigner’s words.
“I know, the salon doesn’t look expensive. But it is just because Minako-sensei is a such person. She could have a shiny luxurious salon on the central street of Tokyo or work at most prestigious fashion shows. But she says that it is more interesting to see what she can do to make regular customers happy.” Every time when Yuuri thought about his teacher’s reasons he couldn’t be more proud about his choice of the role model. Okukawa Minako really was a brilliant hairdresser and an outstanding person.
“So I can say that I’m in the best hairdressing salon of whole Japan?” the silver-haired stranger asked teasingly.
“Maybe,” Yuuri couldn’t stop his own smile. “But even if it is true, I’m still not the best hairdresser of Japan,” somehow right now his lack of success was even more frustrating than it was other times.
“I think the second best of this year will be enough for head shaving of world’s best figure skater,” the foreigner smirked.
Yuuri had no doubt that the man tried to make him feel better, but his joke had the opposite effect. Yuuri looked to wet silver strands, holding back his tears. He couldn’t do it. How could he destroy something so beautiful?
“I-” Yuuri faltered. “Can you tell me your name?” He hoped that knowing man’s name he could explain his hesitation and qualm better.
“It’s Victor,” the stranger said.
“Victor,” the hairdresser paused just for a moment, surprisingly enjoying, how the name tasted on his tongue. But that wasn’t a right time to think about it. He needed to say something important.
“I know, it’s not my place to say anything,” Yuuri didn’t want to offend the skater, so he started very gingerly, “but are you sure that you want to shave your head? Your hair are so beautiful, so unique. I know, they’ll grow back someday, but it will take so much time to get this length back, and you will look absolutely different without them. I know, that’s the point of such extreme haircut, but it will be so sad not to see them,” he was rambling again. Yuuri sighed and made himself get to the point of his speech, “Are you sure that you are ready for this change? Wouldn’t you regret it tomorrow?”
The moment when the silver-haired man closed his eyes Yuuri knew that he screwed up. He chose the wrong words, and made the stranger suffer again. The hairdresser didn't know what to do now, what to say. Well, probably he just had to get a trimmer and do as he was asked. But somehow he still felt like he shouldn't. Like it would be something awfully wrong. It wasn't about losing beautiful hair anymore. It was something more complicated. Yuuri couldn't explain his feelings, but he was sure that the skater was not ready for such radical change, and the thought of forcing that change made hairdresser's heart ache.
That feeling and the urge to do something were shocking. Unfortunately before he could come up with any plan how to make up for his mistakes – or maybe it was his luck, considering how Yuuri had made conversation worse with every attempt to help, – the silver-haired man asked his own unexpected question.
“Yuuri, how can you tell why people love you?”
What kind of a question was it? Did the foreigner mean Yuuri's family and friends by that question? Apparently he should mean them. Who else could he talk about? But even then the hairdresser couldn't find the answer to that question. He had never asked himself about why he was loved, how it was possible, and if he was loved at all. He didn't want to hear those answers, especially the last one. For his relief Victor didn't want to hear them either.
“I'm sorry,” the skater stopped Yuuri's panicked attempts to find the right response. “That was a stupid question. Of course, so cute, adorable and kind person will be surrounded by love, and will be certain why people feel this way.”
The hairdresser doubtfully looked at the customer, but stranger's face was sincere and his voice was without any trace of humor. Yuuri's face would be flushed because of the compliment if there wasn't a concerning touch of sadness in man's voice.
“The problem is that not everybody is so wonderful and worthy to be loved as you, Yuuri,” the foreigner continued his strange statement. “Sometimes you find out why people choose you too late. Especially if you are worth only for your good looks and your connections,” Victor made a sad smirk. “And if they can't demonstrate those looks as a trophy, because you are always busy with trainings and competitions, and you refuse to use your connections to get them a job, they leave.”
“What kind of asshole could do that to you?” customer's words made Yuuri so angry that he didn't even think before that emotional outburst.
And maybe not to think was a bad idea. Again. But the hairdresser could change nothing. Again. And that particular time he didn't want to change his words.
“The asshole who dumped me an hour before my today's skating,” Victor's face still wasn't smiling, but he didn't look offended by dark-haired man's opinion.
“And you want to destroy your beautiful hair just because of this douchebag?” Yuuri couldn't believe his ears. The only idea of doing anything with skater's hair because of that reason made the hairdresser furious.
“I want make people to see the real me, not only a skating prodigy or a good-looking face. Maybe if I change something they'll see other sides of me… human sides,” the desperation in the silver-haired man's voice made Yuuri's want to do something to decrease man's pain, to decrease his own pain, because man's words made his heart hurt, too. But he didn't know what to do.
Or… the hairdresser stole a glance to the skater's direction. Was it possible that he still could do something?
“Victor,” he wasn't sure if he really could do it, but he had to try, “a skating prodigy and a good-looking face still will be part of you even if you shave your head or disappear from a skating world. But don't you think that people who doesn't try to see that you are much more than these two sides are not worth your time? If they don't want to look at you to find a person you really are, what will change if you show them other you?”
“Thank you,” silver-haired man's face lit up with a smile. It was a sad smile, but Victor looked much happier than before. “Maybe you are right, maybe people who prefer see only public version of me actually don't care of me this much,” listening to the skater, Yuuri couldn't believe that his words really worked. But they did, didn't they?
The dark-haired hairdresser almost believed that, but than he heard a sigh living his client lips.
“Maybe I’m not worth my own time, too, because I don’t see the real myself anymore. I need...” the foreigner faltered, “I need changes. Any changes.”
An ache in man's voice made Yuuri mentally curse. It was sad to know that his words didn't work after all, but the hairdresser was ready for that, he still had a backup plan.
“Can I-,” Yuuri hesitated. He hated that feeling like he was imposing his will to the man. It was so unfair, the skater was already hurt by somebody who had thought that they knew better. How could Yuuri – dime-a-dozen hairdresser – know what exactly the man in front of him needed? Why couldn't he just follow customer's request? But the following that request would always be an option, it won't be to late, so… could it be okay if he tried to do something better?
“Maybe if you still want to shave your hair I- um-” Yuuri put all his new founded resolve in his next words, “Can we try something else before I do it?”
If somebody asked Yuuri a week ago or even a day ago if he could see himself cutting and styling hair of the world top skater, the man would said that it was his goal for next ten years. If that somebody asked the hairdresser if he could see himself making that certain world top skater a haircut the skater himself didn’t ask for, babbling with him about poodles and his parent’s inn, Yuuri would doubt questioner’s sanity. But there he was, finishing to blow dry foreign skating star’s hair with styling brush, surrounded by freshly cut silver strands on the floor.
It still was hard to wrap his brain around how easy the man on the chair in front of him accepted that crazy idea of try a haircut that he hadn’t even seen. And how easy he agreed not to look until Yuuri finished his work. Of course, the reason could be that the alternate version of skater’s hairstyle for the next month would going to be a shaved head. He had nothing to lose. Except his time. Except he had no reasons to please a random hairdresser before getting the right customer service.
Yuuri turned down a blow dry and sighed.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking at covered with silver strands floor, not at the customer or at his finished work.
“Is it so terrible?” Victor asked.
“No! Why-?” the hairdresser exclaimed, slightly panicking about if the man already regretted his decision.
“Can I look?” skater’s voice sounded curious and even trying hard Yuuri couldn't hear any hint of worry or nervousness in it.
“Yes, please” the dark-haired man almost whispered.
He made himself look back at the customer and take in the result of his efforts.
It wasn’t surprising that the man on the chair looked good. Yuuri had no doubt that the skater would look good with any hairstyle, in any clothes, even with scars. Such handsomeness couldn’t be affected by anything. The unexpected part was that with shorter hair and a bang, covering his left eye, Victor looked gorgeous. More gorgeous than before the haircut? Probably. Definitely more mature and - Yuuri blushed of that thought - a way hotter. Less vulnerable and lost.
The hairdresser met gaze of stunning blue eye in the mirror, and his heart flipped in the chest. A warmth covered dark-haired man’s cheeks. And then Victor beamed. Yuuri could swear because of that almost heart-shaped smile even the Earth stopped its pace for a moment. His heart definitely had missed a few beats.
“Yuuuuri~,” the way the skater pronounced his name, stretching out the vowels, made Yuuri blush even harder, “thank you! That’s amazing!” The silver-haired man happily examined his new haircut. “You are amazing!” he added, looking at the hairdresser.
“I- I did nothing,” suddenly the dark-haired man could only stammer. “It’s- It's just- You just look so good with any haircut!”
Yuuri couldn't believe that he had enough courage to actually say that, but skater's dazzling smile was worth any embarrassment. Still the sight of that smile made the hairdresser lowered his gaze. He stared at the silver locks on the floor, silently praying that the crimson of his cheeks would pale the moment he had to meet customer's eye again.
“How much?”
“What?” Yuuri threw up his head, startled with a sudden question.
“The haircut. How much I have to pay for your work?” Victor explained, still stealing glances to admire his new look through a mirror.
“It's- You don't have to pay anything,” the hairdresser protested.
“Don't have...” the skater looked utterly confused. “But why?”
“Well… um… It's not what you asked for, right?” Yuuri mumbled. “I can't ask you to pay for something you didn't want.”
Those were right words to say. He couldn't make the customer pay for his decision.
The dark-haired man shifted his weight. It felt too awkward to look at Victor. He lowered his head again, contemplating to start sweeping a floor just to occupy himself with something.
“Yuuuuri~,” the hairdresser nervously jerked his eyes up at the sound of accented singsong voice, “why are you saying this? You did astonishing work! You made something better than what I asked for. You made me happy!” The skater dazzled him with another wide smile. “Isn't it what a customer service is for?” Victor added playfully.
“I...”
It was so hard to say 'no' to that smile, to that face, to that man. And Yuuri wanted so much to believe in his words. To believe that he did a good job. So he just gave up and named a price and got another happy smile.
The skater kept beaming at Yuuri the whole time the hairdresser inputted the price of the haircut to cash register and till he gave the card back to the customer. But suddenly joy in man's eyes changed to uncertainty.
“Victor? Are you okay?” Yuuri asked worriedly.
“I'm okay, I'm very happy thanks to you,” the skater smiled again. “It's just- Yuuri, do you think we can be friends?”
“Friends?” the dark-haired man repeated, surprised with the idea that famous world skater wanted to be friends with him.
“I know, we have just met, but you so kind and generous, and you made me feel alive and special again. Can we-... Can we keep in touch? Maybe I can send you email or text you sometimes?” it sounded almost like a plea. Yuuri couldn't say 'no' to that, no matter how crazy a whole idea sounded.
“O-okay,” the hairdresser said perplexedly.
“Great!” another hypnotic smile wasn't unexpected. “Can you put your number into my contact list?” Victor passed the dark-haired man his phone.
Not sure what exactly he was doing, Yuuri followed man's request. He inputted his phone number and the name in skater's contacts and gave the phone back. Victor immediately started to type something on phone's screen. The second later the hairdresser heard a vibration of his own phone.
“It should be my text,” Victor informed him. “Yuuri, it was so nice to meet you. Thank you for your talent and your precious heart. I hope to hear from you again soon.”
The hairdresser was lost for words. He just silently stared at the man. He kept staring at salon's door a few minutes after the skater left. Only after the second vibration of his phone Yuuri remembered to check the text from the extraordinary customer. There were already two Victor's texts waiting for him.
From: +7XXXXXXXXXX
“It's Victor Nikiforov. Please, let's keep in touch.”
“Thank you for making me alive again.”
It was a week later when Yuuri finally had enough courage to check who actually Victor Nikiforov was. He and the skater kept texting each other a whole week when Victor mentioned something about too intensive press attention before next competition. So Yuuri decided to spend his lunch break finding out why his new friend sounded so exhausted by journalists. That was when he discovered that the skater had a wiki page about him and more than a dozen of web pages, blogs and fanclubs made by very dedicated fans.
Yuuri felt his breath accelerating every second he was looking at his search results. It wasn't his Victor, right? It shouldn't be! But the name and every photo at those pages confirmed that the world famous Victor Nikiforov and the man who's head he almost shaved a week ago was the same person. Of course he remembered that Victor was two times consecutive world champion in figure skating, and of course so gorgeous, handsome man had to have a huge fan base. It was just… so unexpected, so nerve-wracking.
“Wow, I didn't know you are a figure skating fan now,” Yuuri heard Phichit's voice behind his shoulder.
“I'm- I just-,” the hairdresser tried to explain. “It's not it,” he sighed, surrendering to his own awkwardness.
“Or are you just a fan of Victor Nikiforov?” Phichit smirked teasingly. “I like this one,” he pointed with his finger at one of photos on Yuuri's phone screen. One where the skater was still with long hair. “It's from his this year free skate. His skate was so heartbreaking, so expressive at NHK Trophy that he won the gold medal with huge point difference. And the next day at the Gala he appeared with short hair, wide smile and made very clear that in future competitions his skating would be even more impressive than it was at that tournament. And that was just exhibition!”
“Really?” it was nice to know that Victor felt better.
“Really,” Phichit reassured him. “So how did you find out about Victor Nikiforov? I tried to drag you into watching figure skating with me as long as I know you. And suddenly you are searching info about the current world champion. What happened?” the hairdresser could hear curiosity in friend's voice.
“It's- ugh- It's complicated,” Yuuri tried to find the right words. He didn't want to lie to Phichit, but he wasn't ready to tell the whole story to his too enthusiastic coworker. “It just… There was one customer at the evening of that skating event. We talked about figure skating a bit. It made me want to find more about the topic.”
That obviously wasn't a whole story, but it wasn't exactly a lie. Victor was a customer and they talked about figure skating. A bit.
“You talked with a customer?” the administrator of the hairdressing salon gaped. “Was the guy so good looking?”
“How do you know that the customer was a guy?” Yuuri asked, but then met his friend's not very impressed gaze and surrendered. “He was the most handsome man I ever met.”
“And you didn't ask his number?” Phichit sounded upset.
“I-”
The hairdresser wanted say that he didn't need to ask for customer's number, without giving his friend more details. It wouldn't be a lie, again, but it could end that uncomfortable topic much faster. But his luck today was so bad that Victor chose the same moment to send him a new text.
“Victor? Who is Victor?” Phichit asked and as a friend who knew nothing about privacy opened his text faster than Yuuri could do anything.
And of course Victor had to send him a selfie with his dog Makkachin and text: “Finally put on Makka and myself those matching sweaters from the pet shop you recommended. Thanks again.”
“Is it- Is it-” the administrator tried to eject any coherent words from his lips. “No freaking way! It is Victor Nikiforov! Yuuri, you are texting with the Victor Nikiforov?”
“Um- Yes?” Yuuri wasn't sure how to stop his friend from freaking out.
“And you didn't tell me even a single word about it?”
“I just told you about him,” the hairdresser objected.
“The handsome customer...” Phichit understood.
Yuuri could see how gears in his friend head worked with supernatural speed. And then Phichit sent the hairdresser astonished look when another realization hit him.
“Wait, wait, wait,” salon's administrator almost whispered. “Victor Nikiforov came here as a customer?”
Yuuri nodded.
“And you did your job?” followed the next question.
Yuuri nodded again.
“You did that haircut,” that wasn't a question anymore, but the hairdresser nodded anyway. Phichit gazed at him with awe. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! You made that haircut! The haircut! The haircut that became the most discussed topic after Gala. My friend made it! I need to tell it to everyone!”
Phichit jumped on his feet so fast that Yuuri barely managed to catch him by the sleeve only a second before the man run back to the main room of hairdressing salon.
“Phichit, wait. I don't want to tell anybody about Victor,” he explained.
“But Yuuri, you can become famous. This will be the best ad for hairdressing salon and for you,” the other man pleaded.
“Phichit, no,” it wasn't something Yuuri was going to concede.
“Okay,” his friend was disappointed, but didn't push further. “Can I at least tell Minako-sensei?”
Minako-sensei was even bigger fan than Phichit, and the hairdresser dreaded her reaction, but Minako-sensei was his teacher and almost like the second mother or at least an aunt. Yuuri couldn't hide anything from her when without her he wouldn't even be there. That was why the hairdresser sighed, but gave his permissive nod to his friend.
Phichit instantly disappeared somewhere inside the salon. There was a silence for a few seconds and than Yuuri heard the most surprising sound he ever could imagine to hear from his teacher – the strangest high-pitched squeak. The hairdresser winced, fearing what was waiting for him when he would come back to work after a few minutes.
After his meeting with Victor his life was becoming more complicated every second. Yuuri's gaze come back to still lit up screen of his phone with cute picture of Victor hugging his adorable poodle and a smile came back to his lips. Probably in future his life would be more complicated, but he didn't mind. He didn't mind while the man on that picture smiled with that cute almost heart-shaped smile.
Yuuri paused for a second to gather his thoughts together and started to type his answer to Victor's text.