"Your hair is getting a bit long."

It's a sentence Gintoki dreads hearing, and he barely manages to hide a wince as he shotguns his sake and tries to make a run for it. But the old hag has anticipated that move and is already standing in the doorway, scissors in hand.

"It's the new style." he says, forcing a laugh. It's the same excuse he used last month.

Otose doesn't bother answering, she just narows her eyes and scowls. "Tama." She says, and before he can blink, his ass is hitting a chair hard enough to bruise, and Tama is standing ominously above him, mop held at the ready.

"Can't we talk about this? It's barely past my ears, that comes in handy during the winter!" he pleads.

"It's May." Otose replies, walking behind him. "And you look like a wet dog. Head forward."

He stubbornly keeps his head up, but he feels her twist her fingers into his hair, sharp nails digging in to his scalp, and he reluctanly looks down at his knees. There's a moment of silence as she combs his hair, then she finally starts to snip at it with her scissors. Sweeping strands up between her fingers before carefully cutting off the ends. She brushes loose hair off his shouler and does the same to another lock, then another. It becomes a slow rythm. Brush, brush, snip. Brush, brush, snip.

It's soothing, he admits.

Tama is sweeping behind the counter now. He could make a break for it. But he's already lost the battle.

"You should go to a barber." Otose suggests. "Maybe they could do something with your stupid afro."

"No one does it quite right." He admits. His hair is such a burden.

"And I do?"

"You... Get pretty close."

"So why make such a fuss then?"

He feels tired. The fingers running through his hair make him sleepy. He remembers similar fingers, belonging to another person. "You have such beautiful hair," they'd say, "like the snow."

"Because then I owe extra." He says. And she snorts.

"Damn right you do. You still owe me for this month. I'm suprised you paid last month."

"I won big at panchinko! I can be generous when I have money to spare." He protests. His ears feel cold.

She brushes him off one last time, then moves away. He pats his head, checking for wounds. "You cut it too short again." He complains.

"That's how short it always is!" She snaps back, though her heart isn't really in it.

"Maybe I should start wearing a hat." He muses.

Otose just shakes her head with a reluctant smile. "Get out and get me my rent money."

He sighs, feeling put apon, and stands up to leave, pausing at the doorway. "Thanks granny." He says, scratching his head, before shutting the door behind him.

Otose thinks maybe she should have cut it a bit shorter.