Hey guys! thanks for commenting on my last chapters it means a lot :) I know this chapter really isn't funny at all I'll try to upload the next one soon.

The oldest teen rolled his eyes and walked out the sliding glass doors of the mall and into the hustling, bustling city. He had just witnessed the two biggest airheads of their team go at it again in the line at McDonalds. DID THEY NOT REALIZE THAT WAS THE REASON THEY WERE RESTRICTED FROM MORE THAN HALF THE CITY ALREADY? He couldn't get angry with them though, since they were his teammates, but he was still a little frustrated.

Tsubasa looked both ways before crossing the street with the other group of pedestrians. Once he was across the street, he asked Siri for directions. It took his a couple blocks down, until he finally reached the spot.

The barbershop windows, adorned with sparkles and lace, gave Tsubasa a bad feeling as he pushed open the door. Uh – oh, he thought. The whole place was rather, um, pink. An overweight woman in an apron came over to greet him.

"Hello, and welcome to the Arabesque Beauty Salon. Do you have an appointment with us today?" she asked kindly. Just as I'd thought, a beauty salon.

"Yeah, it should be under Tsubasa Otori," he said. The woman was taken aback.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I thought you were a…" she cut herself off before she could offend the teen by noting that odd sense of femininity, that radiated off his upon first greeting. "Well, we can get you in just about fifteen minutes! You can just wait in our waiting room for now, sir."

Tsubasa walked into the purple waiting room. The first thing he noticed was that there were only girls here, exempt for a few rather flamboyant guys. He felt terribly out of place as he took each step, clearly lacking swagger.

Fortunately, his name was called soon enough that he didn't have to sit around uncomfortably as the only normal person in the room.

He was sat at a cushy leather chair, and a waterproof drape was secured over his body. Almost immediately, a hair stylist was at his service and spraying and combing through his long hair. Tsubasa studied the stylist through the mirror. She was probably short; he couldn't tell for he was sitting down. She had several abnormal colors streaking through her brown hair, straightened and dull from overusing heat. She sported several piercings on her lips and ears, and a giant pair of glasses. So, this is an American.

"So what style do you want?" she grunted. Tsubasa suspected that this wasn't her first job choice.

"I just want to even it up around that area," he said pointing to the side of his head where the unfortunate incident had happened. She pursed her lips, nodded, and got to work snipping his hair. The silver pieces of hair that fell to the ground reminded him of wisps of snow floating down from the heavens. Suddenly his butt started buzzing. The stylist looked at him funnily, as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. It was Madoka. He picked up.

"Tsubasa, pick up! OH – there you are. Tsubasa, are you in the middle of your hair cut right now?"

"Actually, yeah. Why, what did Yu do?" he sighed. Will it ever end?

"Believe it or not, he's being good. It's – Masamune and Gingka."

Figures. That was his second guess. "What happened?"

"Well, I kind of think you should see for yourself… we might not be able to come back after this…"

"Well, I'm going to need at least twenty minutes to finish this up, can it wait?"

"Not really. Just try to come as soon as possible, kay? And you may want to bring your wallet… just saying. Bye!"

"See ya."

The frustrated teen clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing in and out as he replaced his phone in his pocket. This is the last time that he's going anywhere with the two of them. It was bad enough that he had to go to the world championships with them, now he was forced to endure their antics outside of the battles. Madoka said to bring his wallet – that was never good. The colorful hairdresser heard his conversation and continued to work faster, evening it up around the sides. Tsubasa saw that it was finished, thanked the hairstylist, paid, and rushed out the door and back to the mall. Not forgetting to look both ways before he crossed the street, of course.

He silently cursed the two fools that always got him into these messes as he almost crashed through the glass doors.

Holy crap. What the heck is that?