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In the afternoon heat, Kenma ties his hair in a half updo. It’s beginning to unravel as the day goes on, and Kuroo pulls on the elastic because he’s bored and looking for Kenma’s attention. This is arguably his favourite hobby.
The blond hair tumbles down his neck. He’s really grown it out over the years; the ends can reach past his shoulders. Kenma tucks some behind his ear and continues to read his book.
Kuroo untucks the strand and watches it swing into Kenma’s face. “Are you gonna cut this anytime soon?”
“I don’t know.” His eyes stay down.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t cut it.” Kuroo is twisting a strand around his finger, twirling it until it reaches Kenma’s scalp. “I like it long.”
This makes Kenma peek sideways. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Even if I look like a caterpillar?”
That makes Kuroo laugh. “What? That’s so specific.”
“One of the kids called me that in middle school. Halysidota harrisii.”
“Halysi what?”
“It's a type of caterpillar that has the same hair as me, apparently. I looked it up. Gotta respect insults with scientific backing.”
“Which one of them said that? It was the one with the earring, wasn’t it? Or the one who ate paste?”
“The one who ate paste.”
“Ah, yes, paste-eaters: the top-tier hair experts." Kuroo sneers. “And besides, you’d be a cute caterpillar.”
Kenma rolls his eyes, but stays quiet.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I’m not thinking anything.”
“Yes, you are.” He tugs at the strand.
Kenma shoves back at him, but not hard enough to push him away. “What if I dyed it?”
“Isn't it already dyed?”
“Yeah but...” Kenma’s eyes shift to the side.
Kuroo abandons the strand and combs his fingers on both sides of Kenma’s scalp. In doing so, he also pushes hair away from Kenma’s face as he ducks his head to look him in the eyes. Nowhere to hide. “What colour do you wanna dye it?”
Kenma still isn’t looking at him, but he replies, “Purple. Maybe.”
Kuroo smiles. “Like taro?”
“Lighter. Add a splash of milk.”
Kuroo presses his hands against Kenma’s face, squishing it because he can. “Delish.”