Work Text:
There’s a lot of interesting things to note about Hong Lu.
Such as how his hair tie is made of incredibly rare blue jade.
Or how perfectly his prosthetic eye nestles itself in his skull.
Or how his smile seems to brighten every room he’s in.
Or how he has such a keen intelligence for someone so sheltered.
Or how his voice cracks when he talks about his family sometimes.
Or how he seemed desensitized to everything.
Or how unbelievably tired he was each night.
Hong Lu’s comb slid through thick tangles and scissors snipping away at frayed bits, both sitting in front of a mirror in his room. He insisted on treating Ishmael to a combing and trim after their voyage in U Corp. Ishmael never took the best care of her hair, or herself in general. This was in stark contrast to the prim and proper Hong Lu she always found herself coming back to, who used a variety of products on his hair and spent hours getting ready in the morning.
Snip, snip.
“It must have been odd seeing so many old friends at once. That was quite the reunion, wasn’t it?”
“Pfft. You think Ahab was my friend?”
“You certainly seemed happy to see her.”
“Hah. I guess I was.”
Snip, snip.
“Say… It was odd being at sea for what was probably just a few minutes in the eyes of a sailor such as yourself. What was it like?”
“To go back?”
“No, to be away from home for so long. This is the longest I’ve been away from my family.”
Ishmael thumbed at her chin, looking downwards. “Freeing.”
“Is that so…?” Hong Lu paused. “I… Ah! Chin up, dear.”
“Oh. My bad.” Ishmael’s head tilted back up.
Gleefully, Hong Lu continued to brush Ishmael’s hair, spraying sweet scents onto it and snipping at her bangs. Bits of orange fell to the floor, scattered on the mat Hong Lu had prepared for the both of them. He hummed a tune unfamiliar to Ishmael, yet she decided to not ask about it. “You know… I…” Hong Lu’s voice lowered. “Don’t tell the others this, but I find being far away from home freeing too.”
“Really? You talk about your family a lot. I figured you were very homesick by now.”
“I… I am, I am,” he assured her. His voice cracked once more. “I feel… How do I put this? When I think of my family back at home, I feel really sick. Like there’s something in my stomach yearning to get out…”
“Wait. Wait. You mean get out or go back?”
Hong Lu stopped before chuckling. “Ah, silly me! I didn’t watch my words. Surely, it’s because I want to go back. I feel anchored to my home, after all.”
“An anchor, huh…” Ishmael thought for a moment as Hong Lu began to brush her hair once more. “Every anchor has to be pulled up eventually, or else it’ll just sink and sink until it’s nothing but scrap on the seafloor.”
“Intriguing. I suppose you know far more about nautical things than I do.”
Snip, snip.
“Anchors are interesting. I’ve always felt as though I’ve had one strapped to my chest, and the further I go from home, the heavier it becomes. An anchor held by a rope that digs down to my stomach and makes me sick. It keeps me wading in the water, always at risk of drowning. Do you ever feel that way, Ishmael?”
“...No. I mean, I get the whole ‘at risk of drowning’ thing. But not feeling anchored to one place. Especially not feeling sick over it.”
“Were you not at least anchored to the idea of revenge?”
“Revenge wasn’t something shackled to me. It was something I chased.”
“Akin to a broken compass?”
“I guess.”
Snip, snip.
“And… Ta-da! It’s done!” He fluffed up her hair with his hands, perfect nails gliding past orange locks. Upon looking into the mirror, Ishmael didn’t feel any different. It wasn’t until she patted the back of her head for her to realize how soft her formerly matted hair had become, thick curls untangled and shiny. She really did look better, and she now felt better too. “You have a lot of hair,” Hong Lu commented. “I can give you some of my products if you like. Someone as pretty as you should have good self care.”
When the two stood up, Ishmael turned around to allow Hong Lu to cup her face. Despite his gentle smile he actually looked somewhat upset, almost pained.
Ishmael melted into the touch, concerned. “Are you alright?”
Hong Lu nodded.
“I’m just homesick.”
There was something off with the way he said it.
She decided to not bother him about it.
Instead Ishmael hugged him tightly, rubbing his back with her hand and nuzzling into his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said.
There was a lot more she wanted to add on.
Yet for now, she took a deep breath and took in the scent of various perfumes.