Love Game

Chapter 3:

I paused to watch the man from this morning cut hair. I stood across the way, and silently gazed. His fingers moved smoothly, easily working around the hair like nothing. The stands of locks easily fell to the floor, in quick easy snips. With a comb in one hand and a pair of sharp scissors in the other, the way he did his job appeared to be beyond professional.

You know... I got a little extra money from earlier. A haircut was normally $12, leaving plenty of cash for food.

Ugh. I hated these short spouts of vanity. I shouldn't be thinking about my hair. I should be thinking about my business, and the fact that $40 could buy me THREE good sized meals. Well, street food, that is... But I wasn't wrong about the rations! A milkshake could very well rival the size of the renewed Oval Tower, found in the center of Platinum Jail. The old one collapsed a year ago, due to some terrorist attack? That's the rumor, anyway. There were a small handful of survivors, but since the happening, nobody has seen or heard word one of them.

I'd rather not get into the whole Platinum Jail talk. It's complicated, and quite honestly, I know very little about it. All I know is: that's where the filthy rich live. They live in luxury, while the rest of us are left to survive on what we can. And to who do we thank this lovely system? Toue.

Aah~, now you're getting it. That asshole was in jail for a short period of time. However, I believe he was set free just a short time ago. He'll be back in business when he 'recovers'.

After some time of staring, I decided to get a closer look. I stood off to the side, away from the line of people. Yet it seemed to bother more than a few customers...

"Hey, don't cut the line," a girl yells. Her friend whispers something to her, and the two erupt with giggles. "She does look it, doesn't she?"

I didn't like the sudden attention I was getting. I took a step back and raised my hands.

"I-I'm not in line!"

"Why not? You're here for a haircut, aren't you?" The hairdresser sends me a kind smile.

Considering we were closer to one another, I was able to see more of his face. Pale and clearly Japanese, the bridge of his nose had a vertical scar across it. His kimono covered a large portion of his body, not leaving much skin- with the exception of his chest area. His hair was done exceptionally neat; having a long side pony tail over one shoulder, while half of his bangs shield the right side of his face. A red hairpiece kept everything in place, as well as a well-concealed ribbon. It took some time to notice the sword strapped to his back, or that he was wearing sandals that matched the theme of his outfit. By the time I realized, I was afraid that I had been staring like a deer in the headlights.

"It's okay," I finally respond. "I don't have anywhere to go. I can wait for my turn."

Finished with his current customer's hair, he politely beckoned me closer. Still maintaining an unwavering gentle smile, he patted the seat in front of him.

"Please, I insist. It's policy for new customers. With it also comes a discount. Besides, my waiting list is over a week long."

Really? He was letting me cut a line of people, AND is willing to give a discount? Hum...nice.

Going over to the seat, I sat down. Orio moved out of the man's way, clutching onto to my leg instead of my arm.

I curiously glance to a side, and catch more than a few foul gazes from the audience. The most potent of said gazes were from the girls earlier. They stared at me with contempt in their eyes, fists balled up and nasty scowls on their faces.

Jesus Christ... Don't kill me. He's the one that offered and 'insisted'!

I uneasily turned my gaze to the mirror in front of me. I look for a bit, watching the man in red gather clean tools. When finished, he smiled broadly at me through the mirror.

"How short do you want me to cut your hair?"

I glanced at my ratty tail-bone long hair. After a moment of thinking, I gestured to my shoulder.

"About here is fine."

"Are you sure?" He gave me a slightly wary glance, as if cutting away that much were a big deal.

I simply nod. His smile returns shortly after. "May I have your permission to wash and thin it out too?"

I shrug in a casual manner. "Do what you think is best. This is the first time I've been to a hairdresser since I was in my early teens."

I receive a nod in return, much like mine a moment ago. He places something resembling a cape around my neck, and gestures towards the back of the room.

"This way, please."

I do as he asks, not bothered by Orio's clinginess in the least. I was just relieved that this opportunity came along. I needed something to take my mind off work for a bit. This will defiantly do the trick.