With a lurid clank emitting from the impact of the sharp katana to the wooden surface below, Simon exhaled in short puffs, one hand bent behind his head, clutching onto his ponytail. A few hours was implemented into vigorous training in his swordsmanship to clear his mind away from thoughts concerning a certain trial.

Simon had taken a decent gape at the mirror earlier that morning, truly taking the time to observe at the outcome of seven years incarcerated. Dark shades of black under his eyes that indicated the absence of sleep throughout those years and the premature white patch of hair that marked the stress he suffered through were some of the few details he was incapable to revert, but there was one major feature he could alter.

Opening the palm that positioned behind the nape of his neck, Simon released a shudder as the thick, black mane of hair slid through his long fingers. His head inclined downward, gray eyes closed as he felt the majority of his ponytail land behind the range of his heels. Seven years of imprisonment, literally a weight off his shoulders – he couldn't help the quiet chuckle that escaped his mouth at the analogy. His fingers dawdled up to the ends of his now short hair, sensing the unevenness. Perhaps using the katana for this was not one of my best choices…

The prosecutor's head shot up once his ears caught the ring to his cell, prompting him to approach the device and pick it up – still fumbling slightly to answer the incoming call. Technology sure had advanced during the past decade in the most unpredictable ways. "Hello?"

"Simon? It's Athena!" Before he was able to speak, she continued, a bit excited. "Are you busy right now?"

Gray eyes flickered towards the mess on the floor that was his hair, relaxing. "Not precisely…"

"Can I see you, then? I'd really love to chat, ya know…"

"Hmph. Very well, just give me about a half hour in ord—" He was interrupted by the sudden knocks to his front door, effectively pausing his train of thought. One eyebrow shot up, a bit curious. He never received guests, especially at this hour. "Apologies, Athena, someone is at the door."

"You aren't gonna answer it?"

"No."

Her giggle echoed through the receiver. "That's rude, after I made the effort to walk over here."

And before he knew it, he was swiftly heading to the door, unlocking the knob and swinging the wooden entrance open. There she was, smiling as she had hung up and pocketed her cell. He mirrored her movements afterwards, swallowing.

It took her a few moments to realize, as her face shifted from excitement to surprise. "Simon… Your hair…" She leaned forward, only to gawk at the missing bundle of hair that usually rested behind him. "What happened to your hair?!"

Sweat-dropping, Simon instinctively fingered at the short strands behind his head. She seemed shocked – far from the response he was looking for in her. He was somewhat offended. "I cut it," he merely retorted with a shrug. "Does it look that bad?"

"N-no! Well, I, uh, actually…" Athena stretched her arms out over her head, sighing as she cleared up her mind. She started over again after a soft inhale. "It looks fine. Pretty nostalgic, if you ask me." She met his puzzled gaze with her beaming smile.

"You're one to talk." The ghost of a smirk finally graced his features as he reached up to run his hand through her orange bangs. "The only difference I note concerns the length."

"Hey!"

Simon drew back, and stirred aside to show her the contents of his apartment. "As you can see, I was in the middle of fixing up, but you're nonetheless welcomed."

As she strolled in to eye the katana on the floor, the prosecutor followed, watching as she leaned down to pick it up effortlessly and stare at it in awe. How ironic. Pushing the door shut softly was all he did as Athena went on to ramble and bombard him with questions. Her presence was greatly desired by him, and it thrilled him that she was able to comply.

a/n: sexysilverstrider asked: ok last night pfptt "Can I see you?" for cykesquill c: