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His hair was long, too long, and not by his own design.
Nothing was ever by his own design. He was their God, but he did not get to decide much for himself. He… wanted to.
Kanata didn’t enjoy the long hair, it was itchy and warm and he hated being warm, eternally preferring the bite that came with being surrounded by the cold, cold water of the ocean.
The fountain would have to do. But for now, he was desperate to get this hair gone.
“Are you sure your parents won’t mind me being here?” Chiaki asked, nervous as ever as Kanata led him through the doors of the house — he wanted his hero to be here for this, to help him with this. They’d gotten closer in the past few weeks, anyways. Wasn’t hanging out something “friends” did?
Kanata merely shook his head softly, long hair tumbling around as he did it, bringing his discomfort back to his attention.
“They’re never here...” Kanata said quietly, finally responding verbally as he toed off his shoes in the entryway. His “parents” were often too busy with work, unless they were seeing him for religious matters.
It hurt, knowing how good Chiaki’s parents were. They’d raised such a good boy, his hero. He was glad, but part of him wondered why he couldn’t ever have that.
“Alright, what did you need my help with?” Chiaki asked, pulling Kanata from his thoughts, excited as ever at the prospect of being able to help. Kanata gave him a small, awkward smile, pulling him towards his room first. It was plainly decorated, so much to the point Chiaki could barely tell it was Kanata’s, but the few sea trinkets he had littered around gave it away.
“Wait here.” Kanata said, setting down his school bag and turning out of the room towards the kitchen. That’s where the scissors were, of course, the delightful tool that could help him get rid of his current problem.
He could have easily done this by himself, but he didn’t want that. He wanted Chiaki by his side.
He took a deep breath once he entered the kitchen, the oxygen feeling all too foreign in his lungs. There was no one in the house to stop him, no servants to watch over him do this.
(They wouldn't be able to stop him, regardless. For how loyal was a servant truly if they were to go against their own God?)
Kanata pondered why his hair even mattered so much to them, anyways. Was it simply another way for his parents to retain the little "control" they had left of their God?
He opened the drawer, just as practiced. He picked up the scissors, grasping them tightly in his palm as he made his way back through the empty house to his designated quarters.
Chiaki hadn't moved to even sit on the bed, his head turning from where he stood once Kanata returned. Their eyes met, and Chiaki quickly looked away, looked down, noticed the scissors. He seemed scared for a second, and Kanata realized he may have made a mistake. Did his hero think Kanata wanted to "hurt" him?
"What?" Chiaki said quietly, throat dry as he stared at the scissors.
"I need you... To cut my hair." Kanata replied. A moment of silence passed between them as Chiaki processed what he said.
"...Why?" He asked, not as tense as he had been a few seconds ago, but seeming rather... confused, Kanata guessed, but he had no idea why.
"I... Don't 'like' my hair this long. I want it... 'gone.'" Kanata hummed, "I want you to help me."
(Chiaki was always good at helping him, who else did he have to trust with this?)
"Alright - I'll help you. Let's go to the bathroom, instead. It's going to make a mess." Chiaki said softly, always soft, the kindest person Kanata would ever have. Kanata nodded, leading the way to the bathroom.
Chiaki gently pried the scissors from Kanata's hand as Kanata busied himself with removing his school blazer. He caught Chiaki's eye in the mirror, and gave as much of a smile as he could manage, Chiaki returning it with his usual grin. He was still learning, and Chiaki was always oh-so patient with him...
It felt quite nice, to be treated like a person.
"Are you sure?" Chiaki said, running a hand through Kanata's long hair in lieu of a brush. Kanata swallowed his fears, bringing his urge to do this to light, and nodded.
Aqua blue splattered against white everything — white shirt, white tile, white sink — never felt so satisfying.
It was rather awkward, with Kanata standing and Chiaki moving around him to cut the length of his hair off, leaving it up to his ears, but Kanata found no issue in this position, in being here, Chiaki by his side.
(He never wanted to leave Chiaki's side. He wanted to protect Chiaki, just as Chiaki was always here to help him.)
The weight of the hair falling off was freeing as Kanata watched it fall onto every surface surrounding them, covering their school clothes in loose, still-damp strands of hair.
"How does it look?" Chiaki asked, mussing up his hair once he finished, looking between Kanata and the mirror, proud of his efforts.
"I..." Kanata started, staring at his own reflection. He wasn't quite sure how to react to change just yet, still so accustomed to everything being as it used to be, to the cult being a priority as opposed to his own "wishes," but despite all of his internal struggle... "I like it. Feels like 'me.'"
The two of them tried to get rid of as much of the evidence as possible, desperately hiding blue locks in a waste bin that got changed as soon as they were done — but they couldn't have possibly not missed a few strands on the floor. And when Kanata's parents and servants saw him next, they would never say anything about how he looked different, but everyone knew.
Everyone could see, but no one dared to go against their God.
He hated it, but at least he felt a little more like "himself."
(Hopefully, they could tell he was starting to be more human. Kanata was tired of being a God, he just wanted to stay by Chiaki's side, whatever that entailed, as opposed to the pedestal that everyone else put him on.
And hopefully, Chiaki wanted him there too.)