Work Text:
“Hey, Peko, let me do your hair.”
Peko brushes her hair in front of the mirror. She keeps the white ribbons and red hair bands between her lips. Fuyuhiko can see the light reflect off the grey strands, making it look more like silver waves. He watches her on his bed. He doesn’t have to, but she’s too captivating. She makes it all look so incredibly simple.
Anything she does looks simple. Be it kendo or cooking, she does it with ease and grace. Styling her own hair is no exception.
And he just sits there, feeling useless around her. He doesn’t want to feel useless. He doesn’t want to rely on her. He wants to do more. So rather than asking a question, he issues a command. It makes her stop brushing her hair and she takes the hair ties from her mouth.
“Bocchan, you don’t have to. I can do it myself.”
“I know I don’t!” He’s practically pouting right there and Peko finds it adorable. He’s not called the ‘Babyface Gangster’ for no reason. He jumps off the bed and takes the brush from Peko. He starts to brush her hair and is satisfied with the look of surprise she wears. “I want to though. I got it. I’m gonna do your hair.”
“If that’s what you want, Bocchan.” She doesn’t argue with him. Rather, she’s happy. Her heart is pounding so hard it just might jump out. She has a pleasant smile on her face, but it disappears when he tugs on her hair.
When she grunts, he stops and frowns. “Not good?”
“It’s just rough,” she explains. “Be gentle, Bocchan. If you find knots, try to hold my hair down and brush it. Or use a comb while doing that.” He looks over her shoulder to see a wide-toothed comb and nods. He doesn’t think he’ll need it but at least he knows it’s there.
He continues to brush her hair, following the advice she gave him. His touch is gentler and he’s rewarded with a soft smile on her face. He’s confident then for doing something right. After a few minutes, he parts her hair down the middle, getting ready for the next step.
“Bocchan, do you remember how to make my pigtails?”
“Of course I do!” The memories of the past two years are gone, hazy at best, but the memories of his childhood were still there. His younger sister was the one that taught Peko. She’d braid Peko’s hair, first making sure to keep him out of the room, but after he’d whine and cry she’d let him in. He always watched the way his sister’s nimble fingers parts the silver strands and ties them up into high pigtails with red hair ties. It’s only when Fuyuhiko complains one day that red doesn’t suit Peko and picks out white instead that she wears the white ribbons in her hair. After brushing the pigtails out, his sister wraps the strands together and secures the bottom with the red hair bands. Even when she teaches it to Peko, Fuyuhiko watches intently, memorizing each step in his mind.
So when Peko asks if he remembers, he does. The only problem is he doesn’t have the same experience the two girls have. His sister’s fingers were nimble and neat. Peko’s are skillful and quick. His own are clumsy and inept. Even after tying her hair, he accidentally tugs and pulls. Peko tries to keep quiet, but even she can’t help the squeaks and whimpers from her throat. It makes him flustered and he messes up yet again.
Though her pigtails are even, his braiding is sloppy. Pieces of hair stick out like a frayed mess. The braids start off tight and finish off loosely. He ties one of the red hair bands higher than the other.
When he finishes, they both look in the mirror. He frowns, embarrassed by his work, and she just smiles softly.
“Fuck. It looks like shit. Let me-”
“I like it.”
Fuyuhiko looks at her like she’s crazy. Peko’s smile grows. He knows she’s only humoring him and it makes him even more embarrassed. His cheeks are red and he tries to tug her hair bands off, but she quickly steps back and takes his hands. She makes sure to bend a bit so their eyes meet. When he’s staring at deep scarlet eyes, that’s when he stills and keeps quiet.
“I like it. It’s what Bocchan tried to do for me. Let me wear it for today and you can try again tomorrow. Okay?” Her gentle voice and smile make it hard for him to concentrate. His heart beats loudly in his ears. He has no choice but to nod and agree.
“F-fine. Tomorrow, though, they’ll be better. We won’t leave till they’re perfect!” Fuyuhiko stands straight and tall (as tall as he can), his voice confident. He only lets it slide for now because she made him blush, but he won’t swayed that way again.
Peko takes her wrapped shinai and slips it on. She opens the door to let Fuyuhiko out first. As he walks by, she whispers, “Maybe we won’t leave for a while then.”
Fuyuhiko turns to her, his cheeks a bright shade of red. He sees her lips curl up in a faint smirk, then she lets it go for the emotionless expression she usually wears. He wants to yell but he’s too flustered. He can only curse under his breath as they both carry on their way.