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“Oshi-san? Are ya awake?”
Shu pulled the blanket tighter over herself. It was shameful, the way she’d lived the past few weeks. She couldn’t remember the last time she left her room, feeling like a prisoner in her own house. But there was nowhere to go. Nothing mattered anymore.
She hadn’t let Mika inside for over a week. She’d kept her door locked to make sure that there was no way she could see her.
She didn’t remember unlocking it, but she must have, as the doorknob began to twist open. Shu shot a glance over at Mademoiselle, who sat very still on her night stand.
She really didn’t want Mika to see her like this, but the moment the door opened she didn’t have a choice.
“There ya are… Hi Oshi-san,” said Mika, setting down a plate with some vegetables and fruits on it. Shu ignored them, and stared off to the side.
Mika reached over and tugged on the blanket, removing her protective shell and leaving her vulnerable to judgement. Shu bit down on her lip as Mika began to inspect her.
Her hair was the most obvious fault, she’d stopped brushing it since she was no longer going outside. And little by little, the consequences made themselves known.
Mika noticed immediately, grabbing for Shu’s hairbrush.
“Oshi-san’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Mika said softly, brushing the ends of Shu’s hair.
She certainly didn’t feel like it. Shu brought her knees to her chest and hugged them tight as she tried to ignore the pain from Mika brushing through a knot. It had been weeks since she last brushed it. The longer she went, the more difficult it became.
And now, it was a total mess. Long, pink curls that had tangled themselves into a gnarly bird’s nest beyond hope or repair. Instead of fixing it herself, Mika had to take care of her. It was ironic, her doll doing maintenance on her master. How could she expect Mika to achieve perfection when she was so far from it herself? Her eyes were glossy with tears, dripping down her cheeks and onto her knees.
“Ahh, ‘m sorry if it hurts. I’ll be gentler,” Mika said. She didn’t need it; the pain served its purpose to remind her of the consequences of isolation. The question would rear its ugly head in her mind on occasion. Why couldn’t she take care of herself? The answer wasn’t so simple, or at least that’s what Shu would delude herself into believing. Because if the answer truly was that she had given up, then why did she let Mika into the room with her?
Part of her liked being taken care of, though the guilt attached with it was enough to convince her that she was in the wrong. She was capable of brushing her own hair, her teeth, showering, and going to school, yet without any sort of intervention from Mika those tasks became impossible. It was as if she were frozen in a prison of her own making, rotting away until her beloved came home to nurture her.
Tug after tug on her hair and Shu wanted nothing more than for it to end. Her hair had been beautiful once upon a time - she had been beautiful. And now her beauty only existed in the way a dried up flower in a vase had once been a beautiful blossom. They weren’t able to be rehydrated. Mika should know this.
It felt like hours passed as Shu sat there being tended to. Yet Mika didn’t give up, or take a break. She could feel her hair frizzing out with how much Mika was running the comb through, but it was necessary to detangle.
“Maybe tomorrow I can wash it fer ya. In the bathtub, with the strawberry shampoo. Would ya like that?” asked Mika sweetly. Shu shook her head. Mika was already too kind to her, she shouldn’t force her to do more than she had to.
She glanced at Mademoiselle sitting on her nightstand. Her doll hair hadn’t been brushed in weeks, yet it remained soft and untangled, reminding Shu once more of her flawed humanity.
It was shameful. If Nazuna saw her like this right now, she didn’t know what she’d think. But Nazuna left, she turned around and never looked back. It was better that way; she’d never have to see the failure that Shu had become.
Mika shouldn’t have either. Shu would never understand the affection Mika had for her. She had shouted cruel words at the girl, forbade her from singing live and forced her to practice until she felt like she was going to faint. And yet here she stayed.
She didn’t deserve Mika.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a kiss to the forehead, Mika’s eyes smiling through her own overgrown bangs.
She really didn’t deserve Mika.
“Yer hair is so soft now, so doll-like… Do you want me to braid it? That way it’ll stay untangled-“
“Please leave.”
The words were heavy on Shu’s tongue, though the second they were spoken aloud she wished she could take them back. She wished she could feel Mika lovingly weaving her hair together. She wished she could let her wash her hair, that they could take a bath together and afterwards cuddle in Shu’s bed. But that would be selfish. Mika deserved someone who was independent.
Mika took her hands out of Shu’s hair.
“Oh.. alright. I’ll see ya later, Oshi-san,” said Mika, before leaving the room and closing the door. And once again Shu was returned to the darkness.
She sat with her thoughts for a while, not daring to look at herself in the mirror to see how Mika had fixed her hair up. She didn’t even want to touch it, as if she would ruin all the hard work Mika put into it.
Time passed without any measurement on Shu’s part. She didn’t even know what day of the week it was, if Mika’s “later” could mean a few hours or even sometime the next day. Shu supposed it didn’t matter, time was only relevant to those who had schedules.
But she found herself wanting Mika, yet unable to get up. Unable to even reach for her phone to message her, to tell her please come back, that she missed her.
She shouldn’t want Mika. She didn’t deserve someone like her. She needed to make sure that she didn’t have to rely on her, and maybe Mika would be comfortable enough finally leaving and getting on with her life. She had to do it, for Mika’s sake.
She reached for the scissors, blades glistening in the few rays of light that managed to pierce through her curtains.
She was useless.
Mika shouldn’t be stuck here taking care of her forever. She should be able to live her life without worrying about how Shu was doing. She could tell every time Mika walked into her dark room that the girl was filled to the brim with negative emotions such as worry and pain. Because of her.
How selfish of Shu to ignore Mika’s weeping heart for her own satisfaction. She was nowhere close to achieving the perfection of a doll; she was nothing more than a human past her prime. A human who didn’t want to live anymore, who was slowly wasting away in her room. If Mika hadn’t been so patient with her, she would have withered into nothingness.
What kind of life was that for Mika?
Her hand shook holding the scissors. She’d cut fabric with them many times, they always left a very straight and sharp edge. Right now they felt heavier than she remembered. How long had it been since she’d last used them on fabric?
Mika hummed to herself as she entered the Itsuki house. A bag swung in her hands, filled with different ribbons she’d purchased at the craft store. She knew better than to waste money on frivolous things, especially after being so busy with her part time jobs. But Shu needed something to cheer her up.
She felt so lucky that Shu asked her to move in when Valkyrie had just began. It was a time and money saver for her, no longer having a long commute by train. She was forever grateful at Shu’s generosity, both with her living situation and by allowing her to be a part of Valkyrie while it lasted.
Mika shook her head. She shouldn’t think in terms of the past. Valkyrie wasn’t over, it was just paused while Shu was healing. She was very delicate, even if she tried to make herself seem strong with a hard exterior. Mika knew otherwise. Shu’s heart had broken into pieces, and Mika was still finding new shards every day. She’d keep looking for them until she could put the whole heart back together, no matter how long it took.
“Oshi-san, I got ya some ribbons,” Mika said. She rested her knuckles on the back of the door to give a very gentle knock. There was no response, though Mika had grown rather used to it. If Shu didn’t want her to come in, she’d lock her door. It was easier for Mika to make the decision to visit her than it was for Shu to summon her to her room.
“Let’s play dress up,” said Mika, taking a dark red ribbon out. It reminded her of their uniforms, though maybe that was too much for Shu. It would look gorgeous in her hair. Mika could picture it now, Shu’s hair pulled behind and fastened with a cute bow. She wasn’t sure how to tie one, but she’d watched a few videos on it and it didn’t seem too hard. It would be worth it though, to see the look on Shu’s face when she was all dolled up.
She opened the door and the ribbon fell from her hand. Mika displayed a smile that did not meet her eyes, for if it had she may not have been able to hold back her tears. Shu’s beautiful hair, now discarded all around her like the remnants of a trimmed shrub all over her bed sheets. It was only when Mika looked up to meet her eyes that she realized Shu had been crying.
“Ngah Oshi-san!” exclaimed Mika, running over to take the scissors out of Shu’s shaky hands before she cut something more than just her hair. “Oshi-san, your hair…”
Mika picked up pink locks off the bed, cradling them in her hands. She spent so long tenderly brushing it, so why had Shu done this? Why had she gotten rid of her beautiful hair?! But as she looked over at Shu, the answer became clear.
She didn’t want to be a burden. Mika’s heart broke.
“I think it looks pretty,” said Mika, sadly. “I can even yer bangs out a little.”
She grabbed the scissors and went to cut, noticing Shu shutting her eyes as tight as possible. Her hand rested on Mika’s wrist, as if to say don’t.
“Ngah, ya gotta let me have both hands or I’ll make it jagged,” said Mika. She felt Shu’s grip relax on her wrist, still holding on. Mika focused, lining up the hair to cut it and even it out. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. She had to make sure this was done well, otherwise Shu may never trust her again.
“I didn’t mind brushing yer hair, ya know,” said Mika softly. “It makes me feel good, helping ya. Not that ya need help! I jus’ like feelin’ useful. I like takin’ care of people. I used to give the younger kids haircuts at the orphanage, so I got decent at it.”
She continued to even out Shu’s hair.
“I know it’s hard right now, but yer just resting. And once ya’ve rested up, Valkyrie will come back and be better than ever. I believe it,” said Mika. “I know it sounds silly, but I just have a feeling that it’s true. At least, I’d like to make it true.”
She put the scissors down on Shu’s night stand. Mika grabbed the ribbon and began to tie it into a bow. It was a bit clumsy, but the shape was good enough. She took a clip out of the bag and threaded the bow onto it, before clipping it to Shu’s short hair.
“I got ya some bows and ribbons. I thought ya’d look real cute in them, an’ I was right,” said Mika, getting up off the bed. She grabbed a mirror from Shu’s dresser, and brought it over.
How long had it been since Shu had seen herself? Mika had a suspicion it’d been at least a month. And judging by her petrified look, she had been correct. Mika silently picked up the pieces of hair and put them into the bag. She didn’t feel right throwing them out, no part of Shu should be discarded into the garbage.
“It will grow back,” said Mika. She ruffled Shu’s hair a little, making sure not to knock the bow off. “Pretty soon it’s gonna be the same length as mine! We’ll have matching haircuts. Do ya wanna do a full outfit? I can find one of yer pretty dresses- Oh! And we can do makeup too- “
Mika was interrupted by a hug. She almost fell off the bed in shock, but gripped Shu back tightly. It felt as if the poor girl was clinging on to her as if she’d disappear the moment she didn’t. Mika cradled the back of Shu’s head.
“Maybe later then,” she suggested, tenderly holding her.