Persuaded

Characters: Law, Shachi. Rating: K. Warnings: none.

"If you don't dry your hair you'll catch a cold," Law grumbled as he caught sight of Shachi entering the room. The ginger had clearly just taken a shower, skin tinged red from the warmth (Law was not going to be pleased if he'd used up all their hot water) and his long hair was dripping water steadily, only to be absorbed by the baggy top he'd pulled on. Shachi just shrugged, approaching until he was close enough for Law to see the water droplets on his shades, leaving him to wonder if Shachi didn't even take them off to shower.

He was drawn out of his musing by a knife, which the taller boy had just thrust towards him, the blade unsheathed but perpendicular between their bodies. It was an offering, if rather crude, and Law frowned at him, making no move to accept the weapon.

"My hair's getting too long," Shachi said bluntly, as if that explained anything.

"Then cut it," Law replied. "Or ask Penguin if you're that helpless."

The hand holding the knife shook, and Law snatched the weapon before he hurt himself without thinking. He stared at the weapon for a moment before attempting to give it back. Shachi's hand had fallen to his side and he didn't accept it.

"You cut it last time." Was Shachi sulking? Law frowned and crossed his arms.

"Last time is not now," he pointed out. "Ask Penguin." Honestly, it was just a hair cut; did Shachi have to make such a fuss about the whole thing?

"Buyrgenleraguin," was the ginger's entirely unintelligible response. He was looking at the floor – even with the shades hiding his eyes it was obvious where his attention was focused.

"Speak clearly or not at all," Law complained. Shachi's head jerked up to face him and Law noticed colour creeping up his cheeks before he lost his nerve and fled the room. Law sighed and returned his attention to the research he'd been doing before Shachi interrupted him, only to realise he still had the ginger's blade in his hand.

Well that was hardly a problem, he figured, setting it aside. Penguin had his own knife. He'd find Shachi and return it later, once the ginger had got his sought-after haircut. And dried his hair, Law added as he remembered how dripping wet it had been. If Shachi kept running around like that, he really would catch a cold.

He couldn't see Shachi drying it of his own volition, nor was he entirely confident that Penguin would think to make him. With a sigh, he picked up the knife again and headed for the door, deciding that at the very least he should ensure Shachi did dry his hair afterwards.

He did not expect to find Shachi sat on the floor, knees drawn up to his chest as he leaned against the pipes that lined the corridor. The older teen looked thoroughly despondent, and Law wondered if Penguin, too, had refused.

"Just cut it yourself," he sighed, crouching down in front of him and offering him the knife back. "It isn't difficult." Besides, he could still see the uneven edges of the last time he'd cut the ginger's hair; he was hardly good at it.

Shachi shook his head, wet strands lashing his face as he did so. Law noted that his hair really had started to get long again and sighed.

"Why?" he asked. It was just a hair cut, what was the need for all these useless theatrics?

"Please?" Shachi asked, and Law realised he wasn't going to get a reason out of him. Nor was Shachi going to dry his hair until he got his way. Law could just force him dry his hair and be done with it, but then Shachi would just let his hair reach the desperate state it had entered the last time and Law would end up forced to cut his hair anyway.

Forcing back another sigh, he turned and walked back into the room.

"Come on then," he said when he wasn't followed, and there was a stunned silence before he heard the scramble of Shachi finding his way to his feet and hurriedly following. Guiding the ginger to sit in front of him, Law ran his fingers through the wet hair a couple of times to make sure there weren't any knots before starting to work with the knife.

A knife was hardly the most elegant of tools to use for the task, but Shachi didn't voice any complaints at his treatment of his hair so Law continued despite knowing the ginger's hair was going to be awkwardly styled – if styled was even an applicable word in the situation.

There was something therapeutic surrounding the action, his fingers running through damp hair that wasn't silky smooth, but equally wasn't coarse and unpleasant to the touch. At some point, Shachi had taken off his shades (a useful action, as the arms were getting in the way a little), and when Law finally finished he saw a content smile on the other boy's face.

"I'm done," he said bluntly, and Shachi replaced his shades before turning around. He was still smiling, and Law realised that having someone cutting his hair for him meant something to the ginger. "Now go dry your hair properly or you will catch a cold."

"Going now!" Shachi chirped cheerfully, reclaiming his knife and disappearing out the room. "Thanks!"

Law was never going to understand what went through his head, but he supposed if Shachi really wanted him to be the one to cut his hair so badly it wasn't exactly a major inconvenience.

He changed his mind when he looked at the floor and realised he'd been left to clear up the mess by himself.

A sequel to Hair (chapter 92). Law will get better with practice... probably.

Thanks for reading!
Tsari