Disclaimer: Ansatsu Kyoushitsu (c) Matsui Yuusei.
( how come there is no karunagi fic when nagisa cuts his hair.)
He unbounded the two little rubber ties, one in each side. A decent amount of blue hair fell, caressing his lean neck as they fell down. One of his hands picked the pair of steel scissors. The other gripped the handful of hair he would want to discard first, as if making an imaginary guide. He brought the twin blades closer towards the target, swift but careful as he pushed them apart. Inches away from the borderline, he started shutting the gap between them. They almost clipped the hair in place. Almost released it from the ones above, almost removed some burden from his head. He could even hear the snip sound, could even see his work piling on the floor, and could even feel those which never happened.
It was clear that someone else took away it from him. Someone that then later messed his hair with fingers in the scissors' place while at the same time whispering in his ears, "Stop it, Nagisa."
"I appreciate you being here when I'm going to cut my hair, Karma," he said, not shifting from his stance except for a small smile he put on his face.
"You're welcome," Karma replied as he linked his fingers with Nagisa's, the ones which tugged the owner's hair. From there, the trickster traced his way through the fairy blue hair he adored. He then continued his talk, "But I won't."
He won't be a hairdresser here, obviously. Even if he would, he won't even consider trimming the tousled, free-flowing hair. And if he could not stop what would be happening, he wouldn't be so low to resort to delusions that the other never did that. If only his heart doesn't flutter this hard upon this sight. If only he could just laugh off how pretty Nagisa is and not have the image dwell in his mind. But he didn't mind either way. Not if able to experience an intimate side of Nagisa, like his home clothes or his room.
"I won't let you," was what Karma meant, in a sentence a little bit more complete than the previous.
"Why is that?" Nagisa snapped. He did not feel obliged to question what Karma disagreed. He could kind of figure it out already from their vague conversation. From the reason Karma visited him at the first place, from the nature of the three years long middle school classmate itself. Yet, he still let Karma try him once again. Persuading him into doing acts he would despise otherwise. Even making him tolerate what he had done once he looked back on them, as if encouraging him to put up with the strange circumstances in his life in a twisted method.
The mischievous youth attempted picking the most sincere-sounding reason he could deliver. "I'd hate to see you being less gorgeous than ever, Nagisa." Shallow as it was, he would rather refrain from lying here. It'd be easier to elaborate from and it'd hurt less, if it even does. The Shiota Nagisa he saw now might be more open to suggestions and choices made by others. But he was also getting more critical to them. And he was never a stupid person to begin with. Karma might have difficulty tackling his arguments soon.
"Is it only when you can picture me as a girl?" Nagisa asked in a skeptical tone to Karma, who was hunching a bit so he could reach a place lower. He noticed the series of breaths ghosting against the back of his head, as if Karma was trying to take in the faint trace of his scent, which mostly came from the set of toiletries his mother bought for her precious daughter's use.
"Of course not, Nagisa-kun," with an emphasis on the suffix, "I don't call you my girlfriend, do I? Or do I have to tell your mother that I'm courting you, that she would have a son-in-law soon?" with a grin on the end of the sentence as he embraced the smaller from the behind.
"Um, n-not now, please," Nagisa stammered, slight drops of sweat appearing across his face, "I... believe it's still too early..."
"I'm just kidding. Definitely not now," Karma assured before sliding back into his statement, "But keep my words. You're beautiful. And how do you dress and style would not define it. It's more about how do you demean yourself and handle whatever that was after you. It's not in a girly way, not in the conventional boyish way either, but in your own way. The Shiota Nagisa way. My favorite."
He needed time to process it. He had received countless encouragements from the same person, the ones that caused him to have difficulties on deciding whether it was earnest or just another eloquent flattery, yet they did not leave an impression as strong as this one; surreal if it was to be rethought, yet the most heartfelt so far. But there was a sense of obligation to give Karma a more comprehensible response than bewildering glances and flushing cheeks.
Nagisa inhaled before he pinpointed, "Some things didn't fit in place. If you do think like that, why are you still opposing?"
Karma's lips curved upwards for many reasons. For the keen observation Nagisa had done, which was a skill he always have admired. For the course their exchanges had turned towards, which had improved in drastic measures since he came back from suspension. For the endearing look Nagisa gave him when voicing his thought—he could not even sort out all of them, much less mention them one by one.
So he gave up on fathoming his own nonverbal gestures and decided to continue his talking, "I do respect your wishes to express who you are, and not let others name you anything else. Although you don't even have to have physical attributes of a man to be a man, you just have to be one and believe in it, which you already did very well. But it's still not safe for you as long as you stayed here. I won't her hurt you again," while his fingers traced the lines of faint scars etched on Nagisa's skin, "Child abuse is not a pleasant sight for anyone. I believe you don't have to be told this."
Nagisa gave Karma a weak nod as the latter raided his backpack, searching through the stack of books he brought to school for the sake of formality and the assortment of special devices he hid on spots that may be handy for daily purposes (including sealed and unused anti-sensei weapons). After he located it, he pulled out the rather-large zip-lock plastic bag containing a wig in a length and color almost identical to Nagisa's real hair, which he bought on a store around a week ago. "I would like for you to own this first," then presenting another plastic bag, now white, which had some bottles of wig care products from the same place, "And this, to take care of it."
If it wasn't Karma, Nagisa would have bombarded him with questions: what are you thinking, where did you get that, how much it was, are you okay running around with that in your hands, should I pay for that? It was the same person who bought him a bunch of female costumes for the sake of entertaining a customer that came to their class cafe, so just one wig is nothing big. Yet he still felt it was wrong to be spoiled like this. "I felt bad if you just give it away like that. What should I pay back with?"
"Don't mind it. Just get it over with," Karma walked towards the vanity table in the room, "Just kill it," and threw the scissors which were lying there towards the other, "Kill your burdens."
"Karma, it's dangerous!" Nagisa shouted as he dashed to catch the thing flying in front of him. Thanks to his trained reflexes it was soon in his hand, "I swear, you're always taking things to the extreme," he sighed once he's able to stay away from the sharpness of the blades.
"Trust me, I won't do that if I'm not sure you can avoid a moving target," again with that signature Akabane Karma evil smirk that leaves you wondering on whether he was being serious or just teasing you, "Anyway, are you hesitating? Are you confused on what to do next?"
"Not at all," Nagisa's intonation was stable thought his action of fidgeting with his scissors said otherwise about his current state, "But then I realized I don't know how short I want my hair to be, now that I'm going to cutting it for real."
And Karma would really love to suggest as short as your current hair, but he acknowledged that Nagisa would not enjoy two of his outrageous jokes in a row, so he moderated it, "Try cutting it little by little first, then see if you're already satisfied with that. For starters, maybe around Sugaya or Maehara's length would be fine? Because, admit it, it's going to be shocking if you come to school with, say, your hair shorter than mine."
"Little by little," Nagisa repeated Karma's words as he started, as he trimmed the ends of his hair, replicating what his mom often did to him after once every few weeks to prevent his hair to grow unevenly. He hadn't end up having shorter hair, just neater hair—which was not unusual—but still it was empowering to do what you used to let others do to you by yourself. He decided he was ready to continue, so he grabbed around one or two inches of hair and running the blades over to cut them away.
"Tell me when you're over. We'll move on to the next stage: styling your hair," and with hair Karma meant the wig, "Do you want your usual twintails, your previous ponytail, or do you want to try something new?"
"Um... Karma... can we leave that for later?" Nagisa stammered as his scissors—currently working on his haircut—slipped down to the floor. The image of Karma chatting with his mother once he's going home, informing the middle-aged woman that he just beautified her child's hair, was too much to handle.
