Chapter Text
You join Atsushi to get his hair cut at a hair salon in Yokohama.
You: So, why did you need me to join you in getting a haircut?
Atsushi: I get embarrassed admitting it but... I'm scared of scissors.
You eye him with confusion. An eighteen year old man, afraid of scissors?
Atsushi: Yeah, so that's why I asked you to join me today. Sorry if you had to cancel any plans.
Atsushi was always an overthinker. You felt bad for questioning him, realising that he was always a bit different from everyone else.
You: Well, aren’t you quick to blame yourself. If you feel so bad, then what are we doing standing outside here for?
Atsushi opens the door with a childlike sense of obedience. You always managed to scare him in a way.
The salon’s interior is clean, minimalistic and tidy, with only one customer getting a trim.
Hairdresser: Welcome, are you interested in a certain hairstyle?
Atsushi hid behind you shyly, which was weird because he was much taller than you.
You grabbed Atsushi by the shoulders and pivoted so that he was now facing the hairdresser, who was watching the both of you go at it.
Atsushi: U-um, maybe I’ll just get a trim at the ends, please!
He said, more flustered than necessary.
Hairdresser: Are you sure you want just a trim?
Atsushi couldn’t tell, but you noticed that the hairdresser had a look on their face showing their concern for his current haircut, which at the moment was white, slightly messy and very jagged and unevenly cut at the edges. Soon, he notices both you and the hairdresser are staring at the mess on his head.
Atsushi: Is something wrong with my hair?
You try to hold in your laughter.
You: Oh, no your hair doesn’t look that bad.
He then props himself onto a chair beside the other customer, while the hairdresser wraps him in a cape and sprays water on him. Atsushi yelps and leaps up in his seat.
Atsushi: Ah, that tickles!
Hairdresser: Do you mind taking a seat, young man?
Blushing, Atsushi sits back down.
The hairdresser continues to comb his uneven white locks, with Atsushi giggling at every stroke that brushes through his hair. You could tell that they were starting to get irritated with him. With them now pulling out the scissors, Atsushi’s bubbly demeanor fades as a look of apparent horror replaces it.
Hairdresser: Now, young man, hold still for me, okay?
Gently trimming away chunks of Atsushi's hair, the hairdresser was oblivious to the tears welling up in his eyes as they continued to proceed with their work.
Atsushi lets out small whimpers of fear, eventually wailing out loud as tears rolled down his cheeks nonstop.
Hairdresser: Oh my god, what is it now?
Atsushi: Nooo! - sniff - Please don’t cut my hair! I-I promise I’ll be a good kid again, just pleeease don’t cut my haaaair!
He kept crying his soul out while the hairdresser stood there in frustration.
Abruptly, the customer beside him stood and grabbed Atsushi by the collar, threatening him with their fist.
Akutagawa: Oi jinko, would it kill you to have a haircut without making such a racket?
Atsushi looked up in terror, not letting even the slightest sound escape from his being entirely.
Atsushi: S-sorry, Akutagawa-kun…
Akutagawa muttered to himself as he sat back down onto his chair.
All Atsushi could do for the next twenty minutes of the trim was shut his eyes tight while tears continued to stream down his cheeks. So much for making me come, huh? you thought.
Hairdresser: Is your hair to your liking?
They said, exasperated.
Atsushi opened his eyes, only to start wailing again.
The hairdresser was seething at this point. All you could do was watch and hope you didn’t get dragged into anything.
Hairdresser: WHAT IS IT NOW??
Atsushi: T-thank you for c-cutting my hair, but… now I look like my orphanage’s director!
You realised the uncanny resemblance between the two, even though you had only seen his director in a photograph, post-haircut with Atsushi’s choppy bangs evened out, as well as the rest of his hair, to mimic that of a bowl.