It starts with a question that's innocent enough: "Can I braid your hair?"
Nezumi tilts her head in curiosity. "If you'd like."
Shion comes to join Nezumi on the long couch she's seated on, and Nezumi turns her back to Shion and tucks her knees up, looking back to the open book in front of her.
Shion's fingers gently brush through her hair, starting at the bottom and gradually moving up until Nezumi's hair is tangle-free. Nezumi would never admit this out loud, but the simple sensation of Shion's fingers in her hair has got to be one of the best things she's ever experienced.
"Your hair is so long," Shion says quietly as she separates it into three nearly-equal parts.
"Mm," Nezumi agrees shortly, trying to focus on her book and failing miserably. She's always regarded her hair, which falls down past her waist when let out fully, as a bit of a nuisance, but something has prevented her from cutting it. Instead, she usually coils it up into a tight bun on the top of her head, only letting it loose when she sleeps.
Shion begins humming something as she braids, and after a moment Nezumi recognizes it as a song that had played on the radio about an hour before. Shion's humming is tuneless and terrible, and it makes the corners of Nezumi's lips twitch into a smile; she's grateful that her back is to Shion so she's unable to see it.
After a few more seconds, Nezumi gives up on her book entirely, instead closing her eyes and slumping sideways onto the back of the couch.
"Hey, come back here!" Shion says indignantly, and Nezumi allows a small laugh to escape her throat before she straightens up again.
"You almost made me mess up," Shion says, and in her mind, Nezumi can clearly see the pout she knows is on Shion's face, and her smile grows.
A few minutes later, Shion asks, "Do you have a hairtie?" Nezumi slides one off her wrist and passes it to Shion, who loops the ends of Nezumi's braid into it, then sits back, admiring her work.
"How did you do?" Nezumi asks, turning around to face Shion. "Will I be embarrassed at the bakery tomorrow?"
"I did fine!" Shion says immediately, then narrows her eyes. "Wait, you plan on keeping it in for tomorrow?"
"As long as you're sure you did a good job," Nezumi smirks.
"Stop teasing me," Shion says, looking down, and Nezumi quickly lifts her chin, eyes glittering.
"I'm sure it looks wonderful. And I will never stop teasing you; it's just too much fun."
Shion sighs and Nezumi slowly lets go of her chin, only to replace her fingers in Shion's hair. "Now what are we going to do about this?" she asks.
"It's not long enough to braid, is it?" Shion asks, sounding a little disappointed.
"No," Nezumi answers honestly. Shion's hair doesn't even reach her shoulders. Nezumi moves her hand to the top of Shion's head and ruffles her hair affectionately: "But it's long enough to do this."
Shion smiles a little. "I really wish I could grow it out. It just seemed to stop growing one day. My hair is nowhere near as beautiful as yours."
"My hair is indeed quite nice, yes," Nezumi says, smirking; then she sees the look on Shion's face. "Oh, come on, you, it's time for bed. What's Karan gonna say if we're late tomorrow?"
"We can't be late," Shion agrees. "She really needs our help."
"That's right," Nezumi smiles, hoping it conveys reassurance. She takes Shion's hands in hers and squeezes them lightly, and the smile returns to Shion's face.
Nezumi begins to notice some peculiar things after that night. For one, Shion seemed to be taking an inordinately long amount of time to get ready in the morning, locking Nezumi out of the bathroom and staying in there for upwards of twenty minutes. Considering the fact that her previous morning routine took no more than five minutes, this was highly suspicious.
Then came the shopping trips. Shion would claim to be going out to visit her mother, or to the town hall to review some documents, and would come back with an armful of shopping bags which she would try to sneak past Nezumi and into their bedroom. Nezumi didn't want to pry and go through Shion's dresser drawers searching for the items contained within those bags, but with each passing occurrence it became harder and harder to resist this temptation.
And then there were the strange topics Shion would bring up. She began asking about Nezumi's shampoo and conditioner (which they shared, but apparently Shion had never paid particular attention to the bottles), and what brands of clothing Nezumi wore (Nezumi did not know, as she preferred to get her clothing from the lovely secondhand store in the shopping district, as did Shion, of which Nezumi reminded her.)
These little eccentricities began to build up in Nezumi's mind until she couldn't take it anymore. One day, Shion had come home from work, walked straight past Nezumi into their bedroom without saying a word, and shut and locked the door. This was the final straw for Nezumi, who had sprung up from the couch and planted herself outside the bedroom door.
"Shion," Nezumi calls, "what are you doing in there?"
"Oh, hi, Nezumi!" comes the voice from the other side of the wall. There is a rustling noise and Nezumi presses herself closer to the door. "I'll be out in a minute."
Nezumi counts out sixty seconds in her head, feeling herself growing angrier as each one passes, and when she reaches sixty, her voice is icy and clear. "It's been a minute. Please come out now."
"That was a figure of speech, Nezumi," and there's a nervous laugh. "I'm almost done, I swear! Don't worry, everything's fine!"
Nezumi's eyes narrow. Shion had been acting suspicious for the past couple of weeks. Nezumi can't help but be a little concerned, but at the moment, she's mostly annoyed. Figuring that there's nothing to be gained from standing outside the door, she turns and sits on a chair in the living room, eyes on their bedroom door, waiting.
(Of course, she muses, she could always break the door down, but that might be a little overdramatic and then they'd be out a perfectly good door.)
Fourteen minutes and twenty-eight seconds later, Shion emerges from the bedroom.
Nezumi's eyes widen immediately and she stands up. Is Shion…wearing make-up?
Aside from the make-up, which is quite a surprise by itself, Shion is also wearing a short, pleated skirt and a collared button-up, the topmost buttons of which are undone. There are high heels on her feet and barrettes in her hair, and after Nezumi appraises her for a solid fifteen seconds, there is a prominent blush on Shion's face as well (although, Nezumi thinks, the make-up is probably contributing to that.)
After a strained pause in which Nezumi looks at Shion questioningly and Shion cowers under Nezumi's scrutiny, one of them finally speaks.
"Well?" Shion asks, voice high with fear or exasperation, Nezumi can't tell (maybe it's a little of both.)
"You…" Nezumi pauses. It's not often that she's at a loss for words. "Why did you do this?"
Shion's face falls immediately. "You mean…you don't like it?"
"It's not that I don't—" Nezumi cuts herself off. "Shion, you've never worn make-up before. You've never dressed like this before. I think the last time I saw you in a skirt was at that stupid ribbon-cutting ceremony. I'm not saying you don't look good, I'm just asking what…what the occasion is. I suppose." Nezumi's eyes narrow. She feels nervous, she realizes, but she doesn't know why.
"Oh," Shion says, seeming to be placated a little by Nezumi's explanation. "Well, do you remember that night that I braided your hair?"
Nezumi nods, a questioning look in her eyes.
"Umm," Shion says, faltering a bit, "well, your hair just looked so beautiful—all of you did, really," and now the blush is back in full force, "—I mean, you always look beautiful, but especially then, for some reason—"
"Shion," Nezumi says quietly.
Shion blusters on. "And I just felt like I wasn't beautiful at all! I'm not even pretty, compared to you! I know you'd be too nice to say anything about it, but I figured you must have been thinking it—I mean, how could you not—"
"Shion!" Nezumi shouts. Now she's panicking. Did something that she did cause Shion to feel this way, to feel as though she's inferior? Nezumi would never be able to forgive herself if that was the case. "Shion, listen to me." Nezumi takes a few steps forward, stopping when she's close enough to reach out and touch Shion's face.
Nezumi can feel Shion's jaw quavering under her hand. If Shion cries, Nezumi doesn't know what she'll do. "I've never said anything about your appearance because it doesn't matter to me. I don't care how you look, Shion; that's not why I came back and it's not why I want to stay with you forever." At this, Shion's eyes start to water, and Nezumi talks faster, desperate to say everything that needs to be said. "If you want to wear make-up, that's fine. If you never wear it again, that's fine. You'll—" Nezumi swallows heavily. The words, true as they are, are nevertheless hard to get out. "You'll always be beautiful to me, Shion. No matter what you wear or what anyone else says."
There's a tense pause wherein Nezumi is sure she's screwed this up somehow, and then suddenly Shion's arms are around her shoulders, and her face is buried in Nezumi's neck. The wetness Nezumi feels there means that Shion is crying, and Nezumi feels helpless. She had said what was true; what could have possibly been a better thing to say?
But then Shion looks up, into Nezumi's eyes, and she's smiling, and Nezumi smiles too, relieved. "Thank you, Nezumi," Shion says. "That…that means a lot to me."
"How shallow do you think I am?" Nezumi says teasingly, wrapping her arms around Shion's waist, and Shion pouts for a moment before blushing again.
"Well—I didn't—"
Nezumi's smile becomes a grin and Shion shakes her head, sniffling.
"Do you want some help getting that make-up off? It's a bit smudged now," Nezumi says.
"Yeah, that would be nice…" Shion looks thoughtful for a moment. "Nezumi, do you think you could teach me how to put on eyeliner properly? I never really could master it myself."
Nezumi laughs. "If you want me to." She leans down to press a light kiss to Shion's cheek, and Shion's resulting smile is surely one of the best things Nezumi has ever seen.
Please let me know if there are any instances of me using 'he/him/his' instead of 'she/her/hers'. I read this through three times, but I'm putting this here just in case, because dang, that habit was hard to break.