Chapter Text
Dan Heng was, quite frankly, annoyed.
Not because of his fellow crew members, surprisingly enough. Though, Caelus and March did tend to push his buttons. Not because of the amount of work he was doing either. Dan Heng actually found it quite calming to sort through the archives, categorizing and updating previous logs he had written.
It must be something important, his companions thought as the archivist’s face contorted into a scowl.
No, he was annoyed about his hair.
It was a trivial matter, but it had bothered him nonetheless.
Ever since stopping by the Luofu and regaining his original powers, he had also found he maintained features from his previous incarnation, Dan Feng. He grew horns. His ears became longer, more elvish.
And of course, his hair grew as well.
It was down to his waist, a sheet of silky black with a teal underside and a red streak.
It was beautiful, objectively.
The Express members agreed.
March had styled it a few times, usually late at night when she couldn’t sleep. Himeko gifted him hair ties so his hair didn’t bother him as much when he worked. They weren’t effective, but he appreciated the thought regardless. Caelus liked to touch and play with it when he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He would never admit it out loud, but having Caelus have his hands carding through his hair was… therapeutic, in a way.
All this to say, Dan Heng still despised his hair.
Not only because it would get in his eyes, though, that was another reason. Nor just because it was a hassle to take care of or a mess to clean up.
It reminded Dan Heng of him.
Every time he looked in the mirror, he was faced with his past regrets. All his mistakes. He was forced to look at himself as not Dan Heng, but a spitting image of Dan Feng.
He wanted to forget.
Which is how he ended up here.
In front of a mirror with his back arched and scissors in hand. The Vidyadhara squinted, preparing to cut it all off.
This was probably stupid. Dan Heng in fact did not know how to cut hair, even more so his own. He didn’t want to ask March, since she was already fast asleep. He also didn’t want to ask Himeko, mostly because she would want him to drink her coffee (a death sentence, he swears). He didn’t want to bother Mr. Yang, as he was knee deep in storyboards for a new project. And Aeons knew what Caelus would do. Though he would trust the Trailblazer with his life, he wasn’t so sure if he would trust him with his hair.
So being the stubborn bastard he is, he took it into his own hands. His very shaky hands, for that matter.
Snip.
A strip of his dark locks fell to the ground.
Snip.
More hair rained down, scattering across the floor.
Snip.
His head felt lighter, liberated from the heavy tresses that weighed him down.
Sooner or later, he finished with the back. It was exactly how it looked before. It didn’t look half bad, considering he’d done it himself.
Now for his bangs. Just a short trim would suffice, he thought, as he moved the scissors to the front.
SCHHK.
“…shit.”