Somewhere Only We Know

Chapter Eight

Yuzu is up early preparing her hairstyling tools in the warm light of her work desk. 4.3" blades, check. Thinners, check. Texturisers, check. Swivels, oops. There's only one that's in here, she must've left the other types in the atelier. She writes herself a note to remind her to put them in her leather roll wrap when she gets in in the morning.

She heard the alarm sound in her bedroom, 5am. She manages to wake up before the alarm goes off these days. Unlike when she's younger and in high school, she's acquired a great deal of discipline over the years. As opposed to academics, her sheer love for her craft pushed her to mature.

She ran to her bedroom, pushed the door open quietly and shut the alarm on her phone. Thankfully it didn't wake her girlfriend, Nanao, who's tucked in peacefully in her bed. Yuzu smiled at the sight of her, gently touching her brow. She loves her brows. She let herself spend a minute to watch her girlfriend sleep.

Heartbreaks over the years have taught her to relish the tiny moments. She knew they can be taken away in a split second. She gently kisses her sleeping girlfriend on the brow.

She is at the studio by 8am sharp. The presentation to designers and investors is at 9am. The styling team and the pampering team all bowed to greet her, wishing her good luck. She has earned their full respect and cooperation due to her kindness and passion for work. She's made sure everyone's got the proper training and mentorship they deserved despite the demanding schedule. Most of all, she has treated everyone well. Especially the juniors, who needed the guidance and the arm around the shoulder the most. They all looked up to Yuzu.

"Best of luck, Aihara-san." A junior stylist hands her a cup of freshly-brewed coffee as she walks in in the studio pantry. She sees Miura-san standing near the glass windows. Her mentor puts down the cup of coffee she's holding to give her a hug.

"Are you ready?" The hairstyling icon is beaming proudly.

"I'm excited. Good morning, Miura-san." Yuzu politely answers.

Her heart is calm. She loves her craft, and for as long as she's given the chance to progress it, there should be nothing to be worried about.

"I'm proud of you, Yuzu."

She loves seeing her mentor happy, the genius who took her in as a young girl with only a portfolio of hairstyling for college friends to show.

They look through the glass windows to the flight of people and cars around the city. "The first time I saw you work as a young girl, I knew you had it in you to be at the top." Miura-san smiles. "I knew you have the right heart for it."

"I won't be here forever, Yuzu. In a few years, I will retire. And when I do, it's your name I want to see at the top. You deserve it. You have the passion for it, you are not scared to give a lot to it."

"Time flashes by so fast. We have clocks, schedules, calendars to have this illusion of a firm grip on it. But it's only our unclockable gifts– imagination, hope, love, that can bring these numbers to a halt and make every minute beautiful and seem like forever."

"You have these unclockable gifts within you, Yuzu. Gifts that can make people stop for a bit and find joy in life."

"My hope is that you don't ever lose these gifts."

By a quarter to nine, Miura-san led her to the atelier's glass-panelled conference room. A styling booth has been temporarily set up in it for the presentation. Ten of Japan's top fashion designers are in attendance, and Miura's business partners are as ready for the presentation to begin.

Yuzu turns her gaze to the styling booth and on its hydraulic leather chair in front of the LED mirror isn't one of her designated models as she has been expecting. The person she's about to style in a few minutes is Tokyo's most-feared business tycoon, Aihara Mei.

"Ladies and gentlemen, good morning. When I was a young hair designer, I met this talented young girl, who, I thought with her passion and dedication to this craft, deserved to shine at the top. And I thought she can make the world more beautiful with her irreverent techniques and innovations. I think you are already familiar with the name, Aihara Yuzu, as she has been leading the work from behind the scenes for Miura for several years now. I hope that after this presentation, you too will find her deserving to shine." Miura-san starts.

Yuzu starts to present her story, and the data science on which her styling philosophy is grounded on. She then calls in the models whose hair she's meticulously styled, locking herself in the studio for the past days. She cannot control the delight in her heart, explaining every detail on each hair design. The signature intricate braids forming a universe of flora and fauna, carefully-designed strands blossoming into delicate colors. She presents the product line she's developed that will raise the standards of hair design yet reduce its environmental impact. There's a slight chuckle from the designers, whenever she mixes up her words in excitement, and a slight raise of an eyebrow from the business people, as she presents an irreverent design not suitable for work, but all reactions point to positive.

She then proceeds to the styling booth and the hydraulic chair where Mei has been sitting. She unwraps her tools, pulls another chair close by to sit on. She confidently twirls a 4.3" blade in her hand, looks at the mirror to Mei and gives her an affirming nod.

"Of course, my long-time client and Miura investor, Aihara Mei, Chairman to Aihara Group of Companies, is here as she has been refused a haircut weeks ago." Miura-san lightheartedly quips to everyone's laughter. "Thank you for coming, Aihara-san, here's hoping Yuzu makes it up to you."

Mei admiringly looks at Yuzu off the mirror, a tiny smile on her face. She has recovered the shine to those storm-violet eyes. After that afternoon at Aihara Academy a couple of weeks ago, Yuzu notices the familiar calm on those pair of violets again. For the first time, she recognises the Seitokaichou who patiently tutored her and miraculously put her name up in the academic rankings.

Yuzu holds up a tip of Mei's dark long locks between her fingers. The ink-black, silky strands she so loved. She breathes in the familiar fragrance. A soft dash of sunlight falling on it, the same sunlight she has seen on those strands she's played with in their first morning together as a couple. When she woke up next to Mei, the beautiful teenager cuddled up to her after their school trip to Kyoto. When two awkward young girls first confessed their love for each other.

"It's only our unclockable gifts– imagination, hope, love, that can bring time to a halt and make every minute beautiful and seem like forever."

Yuzu trims the first tip, and a lock falls to the floor. She felt a tug in her heart. She closes her eyes, breathes in.

"Do your best, Yuzu. Come at me with all you've got."

She opens her eyes and sees the teenager Mei looking back at her from her front row desk.

If there's one person in all of the country who can effortlessly make the tycoon beautiful, it's Yuzu. The talented hair designer smiles at the thought. Of course you knew that, Mei. Seeing the tycoon in this chair, Yuzu knew even before the presentation began that she will ace this test. Mei made sure of it. As smart as ever.

Yuzu changes the blades to thinners, twirls them in her hand to calm her heart and starts to trim at the strands with skill and precision.