Hikaru no Shampoo
Session Two
-A Hikaru no Go Fanfiction
DISCLAIMER: Hikaru no Go doesn't belong to me. A certain name-brand shampoo's famous (infamous?) ad campaign also doesn't belong to me. In fact, even the idea of this fic doesn't belong to me (thanks to dear Morgie-porgie~ XD)...so I'm just a sad, sad person with no life! Enjoy the madness.
*
"You ignorant child! How can you even resist the sheer magnetism?!" Fujiwara no Sai was angry; as he strode after Hikaru, his beautiful and excessively glossy hair waving menancingly in an unseen breeze. The motion displayed to perfection the luster of each silky, luxurious strand to the passerby, who, unfortunately, saw nothing but a short boy in a grade-school uniform and a very large black cowboy hat trudging along the sidewalk.
Said hat was being held down with both hands by the boy, who was glaring at something behind and above him. "Shut up, you."
"What?!" Sai pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the shop window that had started the fuss. "Hikaru! Look at that boy's hair!" Hikaru sighed, stamped back toward the display window. Inside were a row of stacked televisions, the latest model, and on each set of cathode-ray-tubes was the face of a boy who was turning in slow motion, his generous head of hair swishing and swaying every which way. Light jazz played in the background, accentuated with whispery vocals. Sai goggled unabashedly, jaw ajar. Hikaru made an exasperated "pfft".
"Isn't it lovely?" Sai pressed his nose against the glass, bent nearly double to see the wonderful hypnotic hair more clearly. "What I'd do to have that hair in my hands..." The boy onscreen turned and smiled at the audience, winked. Hikaru was blinded by the amount of light that was reflected from the green-black hair. It was like staring at a panel of sheet metal or a mirror; it blinded. But Sai was still hunched over, gaping at the model as he faded to black. Hikaru kept his grip on the cowboy hat that covered the shameful head of curls and started to move away. "Hikaru!"
"Whaaaat?" Several pedestrians turned to peer curiously at the boy with the huge hat who apparently also had severe schizophrenia.
"Hikaru," Sai was calm, trying to be patient and persuasive. "Why don't you take off that horrid hat? Why don't you show off that wondrous creation?"
"Your 'wondrous creation', bah!" Hikaru gritted his teeth. "I still can't believe you did that to me. How did I ever wrong you? How did I ever hurt you? HOW DID I EVER MESS WITH YOUR HAIR?!" More than a few eager bystanders had gathered by now; almost all either 1)fresh from the countryside, 2)under the age of 12, or 3)tourists. After all, psychotic displays weren't that uncommon in such a great city. Hikaru failed to notice them. "Well? Whaddya have to say for yourself?!"
Sai closed his eyes and counted slowly to ten, or tried to. By "seven" he could no longer contain his rage. "First, you were the one who'd fainted, so it wasn't my fault at all--"
"Oh, I'm sure it's fine to go around taking over people's bodies, huh?!" Some American tourists had gathered and were taking photos of Hikaru, red-faced and shouting at the air. "Is ceremony?" Said one to a matronly woman, who shhed them. Hikaru was still yelling. "And you still have the...the guts to--"
"Second," continued the artist extraordinaire without a pause, lifting both finely sculpted eyebrows, "you were in a dreadful rut with that dye-and-trim business before...and did I mention the dust? Oh horrors, the dust!" He tried to hold it in, but suddenly the ghostly stylist began to sob uncontrollably. "The dust...it was so horrible..." Hikaru hmphed and began once more to walk away, but before he could get out of the mass of onlooking tourists and country bumpkins, he was overcome by a tidal wave of nausea and, losing his hold on the brim of the cowboy hat, dropped to his knees and retched. Sai was still weeping but looked decidedly happier in a evil, vengeful-ghost sort of way. He would like being a poltergeist. He would like it very much.
*
"Uggh...kyaa!" Hikaru sat up, screaming, his head running through Sai's left go-go boot. He looked up. "What the hell are you doing up there?" This had to be bad for something, waking up every day to a ghost floating above your head.
Sai looked very important (or rather, more important than usual). "I have made a decision."
"To go back into that stupid bottle, right?"
Sai ignored him. "We will beat that boy from the window!"
"..." Hikaru stared. "The model for the shampoo ad?"
"Yes, that boy." Sai practically sparkled with delight. "You will do far, far better than he, dear Hikaru~" He suddenly became serious, whispered. "You will be the first...to reach the CoiffofGod."
"The...the what?"
"TheCoiffofGod." Sai looked over both shoulders; and into the corners of the room before explicating. "The Coiff of God." His eyes glittered. "The dream of my life! The ultimate goal of artistes everywhere! That boy in the windows...he is the closest I have ever seen to the Coiff." Sai trailed off into blissful recollection of the shampoo advertisement.
"..." Hikaru clenched his jaw. He had given up on the hat after the nausea incident and had tried to cut off the curls to a more reasonable length, but Sai had threatened to start crying again, and Hikaru felt in no condition to vomit what was left in his stomach from the incident in the street. And then it came to him. If only he could persuade Sai to make his hair like the boy in the television commercial, then it might not be so bad. At least the model didn't have curls. Hikaru was sure that the model wouldn't have to don protective head covering when he went out. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.
"Of course it wouldn't be 'so bad'," Sai interjected, and Hikaru glared. He'd forgotten about the ghost's presence in his head and the associated ability to listen in on all of his thoughts. "Get out of my head, you!"
Sai looked uncharacteristically saddened. "I wish I could." His shoulders slumped under the fluffy angora sweater. "I wish I could." He sighed and drifted to the window, looking out onto another morning, another day. Hikaru was starting to feel a bit sorry for the poor ghost. After all, it had to be pretty bad spending enternity in such a ridiculously uncomfortable pair of shoes. "Um, Sai?"
"Hm?"
"I...I..." Sai was beginning to turn around, and Hikaru's gut sank as he realized what he was about to agree to. "I guess...you can try it with my hair. The cuff thing."
"The Coiff thing," retorted Sai, but he had regained his frighteningly sparkly demeanor. "Oh Hikaru, this is wonderful! Thank you!" The ghost latched himself around Hikaru's neck, and the poor boy lurched. "I feel so appreciated again!"
Oh no, thought Hikaru miserably as Sai struck a pose with his hands full of assorted styling implements (including a very large, very frightening-looking metal object of a bizarre shape), so much for friends. He could envision the horrible stares from the entire street after Sai got through with his hair. Oooooh nooooo...
-end Session Two-
Notes:
Was going to talk about Sai's past this Session but didn't quite get to it. Alas, wordiness, my curse. Next Session: a different look for Hika-chan? Sai's past? And...best of all, a rival? XDD