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A horrified screech pierced through the air, somehow loud enough to kill the gentle piano music playing from Tsunagu’s living room speakers. As for Tsunagu himself, he wasted no time in abandoning his half-woven scarf, immediately darting from the sofa and straight for the bathroom.
He barrelled his way through the door, slamming it open. “What happened?!”
Hizashi stood trembling in front of the mirror, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the sink. His face was just as pale, staring directly into his reflection like he was possessed.
Tsunagu’s eyes frantically darted between Hizashi and the mirror. The panic in his veins settled at the sight of him unharmed (physically at least).
Tsunagu approached carefully. His hand hovered by Hizashi’s shoulder, barely resisting the urge to pull him close.
“Hizashi, what happened?”
“My.. my…” Hizashi’s voice trembled. His knuckles went even whiter along the edge of the sink.
When Hizashi failed to finish his sentence, Tsunagu pressed on. He tried not to sound too urgent; the last thing he wanted was to panic Hizashi any further. “Your what?”
“My hair.”
Tsunagu’s eyes flitted up to his partner’s hair. It looked… normal. Tied back and casual, the way that he almost always wore it when he was off-duty.
Tsunagu didn’t get to look any closer, because Hizashi’s hands suddenly flew up over his head. He ducked away with a small shriek. “Don’t look!”
Tsunagu’s hand dropped from Hizashi’s shoulder. He stared in equal parts concern and confusion. “What are you talking about-”
Hizashi caved in an instant. His head snapped upward, eyes still wide and manic as he yanked his hair free from its ponytail, raising a fistful up for Tsunagu to see. Tsunagu stepped closer, instinctively raising a hand and wrapping it gently around his partner’s, silently encouraging him to loosen his grip. Then he leaned in closer, taking a careful look at the strands.
It only took a moment of squinting for Tsunagu to spot them: a few silver hairs, practically invisible amidst the shock-blond of the rest.
Tsunagu took one deep breath, willing himself not to laugh. “Hizashi,” he began, his voice laced with a tenderness that he didn’t even know he was capable of, “is that all?”
“Wh- ‘is that all?'” Hizashi dramatically flipped back to the mirror, leaning forward until he was nose-to-nose with his own horrified reflection. ”Seriously? I’m getting so old so fast- I thought I had more time!”
“You aren’t dying,” Tsunagu rebuffed, taking on only the slightest edge of seriousness.
“I’m not- but like- out of all the things that the universe could take first, it just had to be my hair? No warning wrinkles or anything!”
“It’s only a few strands.”
“For now sure. But have you seen my dad? His whole head is white- white! And you know how long that took? Less than a year! And he said the same thing at first too- ‘just a few strands.’”
“That doesn’t guarantee that your hair will do the same.” Tsunagu tried to reason, although Hizashi’s worries were not unfounded. Hair color aside, the Yamada family resemblance was rather uncanny.
“But what if it does?” Hizashi groaned, burying his face in his hands. When his voice came back again it was quieter, weaker. “Man.. I’m seriously getting old.”
Tsunagu’s heart softened at the sound, shriveling any sliver of amusement he might have felt toward his partner’s dramatics. He reached for Hizashi’s hands, gently prying them away from his face to look him in the eye.
“Yes, you are.” Tsunagu agreed. He wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. “We both are. And that’s alright.”
“That’s easy for you to say. Your hair’s still perfect- always is.”
“Well, of course.” Tsunagu couldn’t help but preen, pulling one hand away from Hizashi’s just long enough to sweep it over his bangs.
“But that’s beside the point. The point is that we’re both aging, whether we like it or not. There’s no use in refusing what we have no power to change, so the least we can do is handle it with grace.”
Hizashi’s frown only deepened at that. Tsunagu sighed before bringing his hands to Hizashi’s shoulders. He gently guided him to face the mirror again, coaxing him into confronting his barely visible gray hairs once more.
Tsunagu’s words weren’t reaching him, so he needed a different approach.
“You should consider yourself lucky for this, considering your line of work.”
Hizashi hesitated to answer, a flicker of understanding passing over his otherwise dismayed face. He really was lucky, especially considering how quickly he’d climbed the ranks in the past couple of years. He was becoming quite the popular crime target as a result. His missions- despite being mainly contained to Musutafu most days- were only growing more and more harrowing. But, then again…
“Considering our line of work, we are both lucky,” Tsunagu corrected himself. Hizashi wasn’t the only hero in the relationship. Tsunagu, given his status, was also arguably the most at risk between the two of them.
“Easy for-“
“-me to say? True. But know this: regardless of which of us is graying, we are both incredibly lucky,” Tsunagu insisted. He brushed some of Hizashi’s hair away from his forehead, frowning at the worried wrinkles he found there.
Tsunagu let out a soft sigh. “Despite all odds, we’re both alive and well, fully active, and- perhaps best of all- we’re together.”
His rebuttal, although he didn’t mean for it to be guilt-trippy, all but deflated poor Hizashi. Rather than argue his negative case any further, he slumped back against Tsunagu a bit.
Hizashi’s gaze went from his own reflection to Tsunagu’s, their eyes meeting through the glass. That was when Tsunagu glimpsed a flicker of insecurity, a split second of vulnerability that he’d learned how to catch only after years of experience being around Hizashi.
“But you won’t be embarrassed?” Hizashi muttered, still looking at his partner through the glass.
“Embarrassed? By your hair?” Tsunagu asked, almost offended at the notion. Him, embarrassed by any part of Hizashi? “Why would I be?”
“It’s just- it’s the image of it, you know? Since your hair is kind of like your whole thing-“
“Oh, really?” Tsunagu- aka Best Jeanist- rose a skeptical brow. He hoped that Hizashi knew him better than that. As much as he strived to keep his hair in impeccable style, it certainly wasn’t everything.
“Okay, your whole thing second to jeans, but still kind of your whole thing. So if I go gray, don’t you think that’s kind of a bad look?”
A bad look?
“No. No, never, not at all.”
Hizashi gave Tsunagu a funny look, one that screamed ‘liar.’
“I mean it,” Tsunagu insisted, his voice firm. “In fact, I think that white would flatter you.”
Hizashi blinked at his reflection, trying to picture that. “Yeah right,” he muttered, finally turning to leave the bathroom. He’d had enough of seeing himself for the day.
But Tsunagu wasn’t satisfied with that. He followed Hizashi into the living room, persistent. “Really. It wouldn’t look bad in the slightest.”
Hizashi unceremoniously plopped down on the sofa, sinking into the cushion beside Tsunagu’s unfinished scarf. Tsunagu set the piece aside on the coffee table, assuming its place at his partner’s side. He left some space between the two of them for Hizashi’s sake, but it was unneeded. Hizashi maneuvered himself onto his back, long legs half dangling over the sofa’s arm. He rested his head in Tsunagu’s lap, looking up at him with the most pitifully dejected look he’d ever seen.
This position- this affection- was the kind that Tsunagu would have stiffened up against years ago. But now he didn’t even bat an eye, already combing a hand through Hizashi’s hair as soon as he settled his head into his lap.
“I’m gonna dye it,” Hizashi murmured.
“If that’s what you want.”
“Every color in the book,” Hizashi added. If he was going to go white this early on, he figured he might as well go crazy with it. He expected Tsunagu to object, considering how gaudy he normally looked even without a neon head of hair.
But Tsunagu didn’t. “A salon day then. I know some excellent colorists.”
"Sweet.”
Comfortable silence followed. At some point Hizashi closed his eyes, long enough for Tsunagu to think he’d fallen asleep. Tsunagu didn’t stop brushing his fingers through his hair though, his mind wandering without Hizashi’s voice to fill it.
He knew Hizashi cared about his appearance, but never to this extent. He thinks it would be bad for my image. Tsunagu found it so unthinkable that he wanted nothing more than to dismiss the thought as plain ridiculous. But seeing Hizashi so panicked over it made it impossible to simply shrug off.
“I meant it when I said that we’re lucky. That I’m lucky,” Tsunagu quietly said, more to himself than anything.
Surprisingly Hizashi responded, still awake although he kept his eyes closed. “Yeah? Better me graying than you, huh?” He asked, his words a half-hearted jab.
“No, not that. I mean that I..” How could Tsunagu put this in a way that wasn’t unnecessarily depressing? “I never imagined this for myself, a future where my partner and I can afford to go gray. ”
Hizashi’s brow furrowed, but he stayed quiet.
“I know you might think it’s unsightly, but I couldn’t disagree more. I find it beautiful. I find you beautiful,” Tsunagu amended, his hand stilling in his partner’s hair. “And I’d argue that with every stunning change I grow impossibly more enamored with you.” Was he laying it on a little thick? Possibly. But Hizashi clearly needed it, and it wasn’t like it was a lie anyway. He really did love watching Hizashi grow, watching him change, whether it was his hair, his wardrobe, his tastes, his hobbies, or his aspirations. He couldn’t help but adore them all.
Hizashi opened his eyes, staring up at Tsunagu in both disbelief and affection.
“Even when I start wrinkling?” Hizashi asked.
“For every wrinkle, you’ll hear the exact same thing,” Tsunagu promised.
Hizashi rolled onto his side, facing away from Tsunagu while his head remained in his lap.
“Awe, man.” Hizashi murmured. “I don’t think there’s anyone I’d rather get old and raisiny with.”
Me neither. Tsunagu smiled to himself, relieved that Hizashi was finally relaxed.
“... But it sucks that we haven’t started graying at the same time. I’m gonna lose it if your head’s still blond by the time mine’s all white,” Hizashi whined.
“There’s still time. I’m sure I’ll catch up to you soon. Although it is strange that I haven’t already.” One would think that all the stress of the past few years would have grayed him a little bit. Not to mention the fact that he was years older than Hizashi. Surely it was only a matter of time.
Hizashi didn’t respond for a moment. “... Must be because of your good jeans.”
He turned his head just enough to catch Tsunagu’s grin before he covered it behind his hand, stifling a laugh. Most people grew tired of Tsunagu’s puns within a few days of being around him, but not Hizashi. No, instead Hizashi swore to go the extra mile, slipping a pun or two into Tsunagu’s every day, oftentimes when he least expected it.
And oh did he love it.
“It must be,” he agreed, his smile shining through in his voice.
Smiling now too, Hizashi turned his head forward again and let his eyes close once more. Tsunagu took that as his cue to reach over him, careful not to push him off as he picked up the half-scarf and the crochet hook attached to it. He continued his work, content to let his partner rest.