The woman with blonde hair was seated on one of the salon chairs with an almost-identical and equally attractive male behind her, kneading his fingers into her shoulders as she sighed in relaxation.
"You're getting better at this, Ryou!" She beamed at him through the mirror. Her brother, Tetsuya assumed, was about to open his mouth in response until she stood up without a warning and turned around to face the young, blue-haired teen who had been waiting at one of the comfy, white couches.
Upon hearing the sudden silence, Tetsuya only looked up, only to see the two gaping at him.
"I... I'm sorry, have you been waiting this whole time?" She questioned him as she approached the waiting area. "I can't believe that I didn't notice! Ryou," Her locks followed her motion as she spun around to glare at her brother. "How come you didn't tell me that our special guest was here?"
"Uwah, I didn't know! If I did, I would notice..."
Tetsuya stared at them blankly before he drew out their voices and uncrossed his legs to get back in a comfortable reading position.. Clearly, the conversation would last longer than the average argument between siblings, but he could wait. Besides, he didn't want to be here, anyway. Frankly, this was just an order from his father through his secretary, who had come by his house while he was in the middle of reading a new novel that he had picked up from the library. The man also told him that he didn't have to worry about anything, for his father had apparently asked one of the most popular fashion designers of Japan for suggestions on "further feminization and beautification of his daughter". And afterwards, for the "security of his only child", which the secretary had also quoted, "Please open the salon only for Tetsuya."
After the bickering had died down, the first thing that the woman, whose name he discovered was Kise Miki, had suggested, was a manicure.
"Have you had a manicure before?" Miki turned his hands over in examination, running the pads of her soft thumbs over his own slender fingers.
The female-disguised male only shook his head and earned a look from gleaming eyes in response. "I can't believe it! How can you have such perfect hands and well-maintained nails for someone who hasn't had a manicure?"
She did not wait for a response, dropping his hands back onto the towel-covered table and rushing over to get her kit.
It took fifteen minutes for the last coat of the nail polish to dry, and probably a millisecond to send the poor boy flying into the salon chair that she had been sitting in merely a half hour ago. And by then, her brother had chosen to join them again with him seated another indistinguishable chair next to the blue-haired girl with now wet hair. Miki, on the other hand had been busy trailing the comb repeatedly from the crown of his hair down to the end of his locks, which had now reached the middle of his back from years of growing.
"So, Kurokocchi," Tetsuya tried not to frown at the nickname as the boy leaned forward in interest, "Where are you from?"
"I was originally from this prefecture, but I just moved back here from Kanagawa." He searched the reflection in the mirror to observe the blonde as she snipped at his hair.
"Kanagawa, really?!" He leaned forward on the arm rest, making the latter fear that he was going to fall. "I was doing a photoshoot there last year! How long ago did you move?"
There was a moment of hesitation before he responded, contemplating whether or not to give out considerably personal information. "I moved around a year ago."
"Ooh, maybe we saw each other! Did you see anyone blond? Looking like me? Or wait, maybe that's a confusing question. A lot of people think that they saw me in person because I'm always appearing in magazines and billboards!"
The blue orbs directed their gaze at the male. "You're a model? I never knew. But if I did see someone identical to you, I don't really remember."
"That hurts, Kurokocchi! You didn't even notice me from afar or anything?" The blond wailed, reaching across to latch onto Kuroko's arm rest.
"No," was the blunt response.
"So mean, Kurokocchi...!"
The said "Kurokocchi" was collected by the secretary yet again after four hours; which, to Tetsuya, at first, was too abundant of a time for something as small as a quick visit to the hair salon.
The spared three hours, however, was not a time that he ended up regretting, however, because although he was not one to talk, the two were still eager to give him attention, to get to know him, and to earn his trust and friendship - which, in the end, resulted in two new contacts in his phone.
As the boy in the back seat of the black car contemplated over sending his new companion a message, however, few bits and pieces of their conversation kept poking at him, nagging him to ask the model.
'I can't believe that you went to that school, too!' Ryouta's ecstatic expression was soon followed by a small frown. 'But, if we were in the same grade and school, how come I haven't seen you?'
'Not many people notice me,' He said as if he were talking about the sun that refused to stay hidden at that hour. 'I only had one friend there, actually.'
'No way! How can you have, like, no friends?!' The two siblings stared at him incredulously, their golden eyes reflecting their expression so strongly, like the sun that refused to stay hidden at that hour.
The blunet only shrugged.
'Who was it, though? Maybe I know him!'
'My friend?'
'Yes!'
'Seiko - Ah, I mean, Akashi Seijuu-'
'...Akashicchi?'
'Yes. Are you also familiar with him?'
As if the other male had not heard his question, he sat there, simply dumbfounded, before babbling again. 'How did you become friends with Akashicchi? Are you guys close? I've been friends with him since middle school, but he had to move immediately after graduation since his family discovered that his mother had cancer, so-'
'Akashi-san...had cancer? H-how is she doing now?' Tetsuya hid his pale-lilac adorned hands under his thighs in an attempt to conceal his shaking hands.
Suddenly, the atmosphere grew heavy. 'Oh...'
Still unbelieving of the response that he refused to hear again in his head, he opened the name A.S. in his phone's contacts and scrolled to the top of their text history to reread the messages that they exchanged since the nearing of the day's expiration, last night.
To: 0XX-XXX-XXXX
Message:
Good evening. May I ask who this is?
Sent 11:09
From: 0XX-XXX-XXXX
Message:
You may call me Seiko Seijuuro. What about you?
Sent 11:09
To: A.S.
Message:
Why is it that you are asking for my name
if you are the one who texted me?
Sent 11:15
From: A.S.
Message:
I am not one to be indirect, so I will tell you.
Sent 11:15
From: A.S.
Message:
My father gave me a card for my birthday, which is today,
and your number was written on the card. It's quite
questionable of an action, really, but he seemed to be implying
that I know you. With that said, am I actually familiar with you?
Sent 11:15
To: A.S.
Message:
No, I don't believe that we're familiar with each other, but I wonder
if the time that has come between us has caused me to forget.
Would you be able to familiarize me with yourself?
Sent 11:15
From: A.S.
Message:
I am rather uncertain if the reason why I'm actually eager to share my information
with someone who could be a potential danger to me is because your diction is
akin to someone I know, or because I am in a considerably sour mood.
Sent: 11:16
To: A.S.
Message:
What has caused your mood to become sour?
Sent 11:16
From: A.S.
Message:
To put it frankly, my mother died of cancer around nine months ago.
And it seems that my father has moved on from our loss
fairly quickly, but I have not.
Sent 11:20
To: A.S.
Message:
I'm sincerely sorry to hear about your loss. It is your birthday, though, is it not?
It isn't my place to give you advice since I have not experienced what
you have firsthand, but perhaps ending the day on a happier note
would be better. It may not be easy, I admit, but instead of being sad,
just think of how proud your mother must be for being such a
kind and hardworking person.
Sent 11:21
From: A.S.
Message:
How would you know if I am kind and hardworking, when
you yourself stated that you don't even recall who I am?
With a situation like ours, it seems to me that we are only
strangers.
Sent 11:21
To: A.S.
Message:
It's simply based on my instinct. To me, it seems like
you would be that way. I must go to sleep now.
I hope that you have a restful night.
Sent 11:23
From: A.S.
Message:
How interesting. Good night.
Sent 11:23
Thank you for reading! Feel free to give me some feedback on the story or what you'd like to see in the future!