Work Text:
Isagi’s pretty sure she’s just making things worse. With a frustrated noise, she bats Nagi’s hair away, but there’s just so much of it; it’s like it’s trying to swallow up their whole room.
Nagi yawns like this doesn’t concern her, arm moving like she’s rubbing at her face. From behind like this—seated on the edge of the bed while Nagi is sitting on the floor—the only thing Isagi can see is her poofy hair; tangling together again even though Isagi just brushed it out.
It’s just bed hair, Nagi’d said. Just!
“I can’t do it,” Isagi says, burying her face in her hands. “Nope. Not possible.”
Nagi leans back, her head knocking against Isagi’s forehead. “Reo was always very fast at braiding my hair.”
“Well, I’m not Reo!” And thank god for that, she thinks. “And Reo isn’t here! Why the fuck do you have such long hair if it’s so thick and you don’t know how to braid it, anyway!”
“Well, evidently, Isagi can’t braid hair either.”
“Mine is short! Why would I need to know how to do that!”
Silence. But, well, there’s just no way Nagi will be able to play football like this. God, that’s just Isagi’s luck! She wishes Bachira was here. Though she supposes that’d just make it worse, too.
“Isagiii…”
Fine! Fine.
Isagi grits her teeth and lifts her head, nudging Nagi’s off her. Nagi is way too comfortable like this, but she can’t play football like this, and that’s what Isagi needs her for. So it’s fine!
She brushes through Nagi’s hair with her fingers, then tries her best to separate it into three even strands. God, that’s so much hair; she’s never seen so much hair in her whole life.
“It’ll look bad,” she warns. Nagi shrugs.
Fine.