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Mikan had beautiful purple hair. Junko wanted to run her fingers through it and tear chunks off. She could see why Mikan’s classmates had wanted to cut it into rough, choppy bits. It was beautiful, and that was simply unfair.
“Hey, Mikan?” Junko asked one day, when she was doing work and Mikan was laying on the floor next to her. “Do you like your hair?”
“Oh, umm,” the other girl squeaked pathetically. “I don’t have much of an opinion on it… I guess I used to like it more.”
Presumably she liked it more before her classmates had ruined it. “What if I cut it off? Would you like it then?”
“Oh, Junko… I mean I would love anything you want to do… do you hate it?” Mikan reached up and carded her fingers through her hair, snagging on some tangles.
“I hate it,” Junko lied, “I think it’s just plain ugly. You should shave it off.” Mikan was truly pathetic. The fact that she left her hair in the choppy, disgusting style when she could have easily fixed it. It was like she thought she deserved to feel bad. Well, Junko could deal with that.
“Shave it? Umm… I guess I could… if it’s what you really want.”
“Of course it is. Just shave by the next time I see you, alright? Now get out of my sight.” Junko flapped her hand aimlessly at the girl, waiting for her to skitter away like a nervous mouse. It would be better for both of them if Mikan got rid of her hair. It would bring Mikan more despair, and for a pathetic creature like herself, it was only what she deserved.