A Firefly's Glow

Chapter Seventeen: Part Six

Kasumi sat in the room. She was wearing an orange bathrobe. Her hair, untied, sat over her shoulders in messy bunches.

She had to admit that the girl’s room was much cleaner than how she had seen it before. Clothes were no longer scattered across the floor, and overturned books were put back in their places. The only problem left was how her bed was still extremely unmade.

Did the girl clean her room by herself?

The girl slipped into the room and she shut the door behind her. “Whoa,” she murmured, glancing around her room in awe. “Someone was in here.”

Kasumi rolled her eyes. She still had the remainder of hiccups in her throat, and she was sure that her nose was still red, but she was glad that she had stopped crying.

Was it because of the girl?

The girl glanced at Kasumi and smiled. “Sorry if you don’t like orange. It’s the first thing I grabbed, you know.”

The girl didn’t really care about the color she wore, but she did admit to herself that the color orange did remind her of that girl. It was probably because she was named after a type of glowing bug.

“Its fine,” Kasumi answered. “The other maids probably came into your room to clean. It’s sort of their job.”

Kasumi should very well know about a maid’s job.

The girl reached for a towel that sat over her chair. It was also orange. She threw it over Kasumi’s head, and Kasumi couldn’t help but jump in shock.

“Prepare yourself,” the girl warned.

Kasumi had no idea what the girl was talking about, so of course she didn’t have time to prepare herself. But she understood what was happening when the towel began to ruffle her hair.

“Ow!” she hissed. “You’re drying my hair, not ripping it off my skull!”

“Sorry,” the girl giggled as she pulled off the towel from Kasumi’s head. “I’m used to drying my hair like this. I didn’t own a hair-dryer back at my apartment, and it’s not like I know how to use the one I have now.” She ran her hand through her own hair. “That’s sorta why I keep my hair this short.”

Kasumi knew this explained how unruly her hair usually was.

“Why is your hair that color?” Kasumi asked, pointing towards the girl in minor curiosity.

The girl didn’t have to look at her own hair to answer. “I dunno. I think my mom had this hair color. I got it from her.”

This explained a few things to Kasumi. Her hair must have been natural if her mom had passed it down to her like the girl claimed.

But something else gave Kasumi a question. Why was the girl using “had” in her situation? Was her mother—

Before she could continue her thought, the girl pulled out a hairbrush—the fat kind with several of teeth and a thick, solid handle.

“I’ve never used a brush like this,” the girl giggled. “I’ve always been using combs. These are probably the same things.”

She approached Kasumi with the brush in her hands, but Kasumi quickly covered her head.

“No!” Kasumi cried. “You’ll dig out all my hair!”

“Are you kidding?” the girl merely laughed at Kasumi’s suggestion. “I’ve had tangles, even with my super short hair! And I helped one of my friends with her hair. She has super long, curly blonde hair. And I used a comb.” She lifted a lock of Kasumi’s black hair and stated, “Your hair is straight. You’ll have less to worry about.”