A Hairdresser's Life [Completed]

Chapter 18

You look awful”

Ochako was cleaning the shelves of her desk as she saw Kaminari walking in: his cheerful smile was somewhat covered as if the clouds had fun passing by the sun.
Kaminari drafted a smile: the angles of his mouth barely lifting up as his frown lines smashed together. His dark circles showed their purple pattern under his eyes.

“Thanks Ochako, you sure know how to cheer a man up”

He said shaking his head. Truth was Kaminari was tired; the past few days had been very full of emotions and he knows how bad he can handle them.
Ochako smiled and opened her arms as she showed the rag away.

“Come here” she said and Kaminari did so. He missed hugging his friend, Ochako now appearing like some motherly figure to him.

“Thank you”
“You are welcome. My arms are always open for you” she said and kissed him on the forehead.

Kaminari’s mind run wild, back to the past when he was sixteen years old and his mother was shouting to him.
His mother was kind, polite. Tall as a rush stem she would bend but never break: he admired her in those mornings where the dim light showed how fragile she actually was. A book in her hand was what she needed to feel alive, a sad smile adorning her face.

Kaminari remembers her as a fragile rose: lovely and perfumed but just a little more or a little less water was needed to kill her. His mother was a flower.
It was years later when he discovered his mother’s thorns.
What he cherished most were those kisses she would give him whenever he was sad or upset: her lips, petals like over his childish skin.

“Everything is fine,” she would tell him and then she would give him a hug.

Kaminari wanted so many times to get up and shout that no, nothing was all right; could that have prevented the deteriorating state of their relationship? He would never know.

His dad was never here, he would always be around town working for some real estate agency: Kaminari had been the failure of the family deciding to work in a hair salon; he should have been working with him, following his father like a good doggie, as a good son would do.

The consequences were some dark and purple bruises over his mother’s figure: being that age, he did not know how his mother would get them.

“Oh, I fell from the stairs”

“Oh, I bumped against the door”

It was a sequence of Oh and Ah, the truth never said.

The truth never said.

“I swear Ochako, I am okay. Let’s get to work, Todoroki is coming soon,” He said gently urging her back to work.
The truth was that Kaminari resembled his mother in every possible ways.

Kaminari stretched his back making his bones crack; he took a box left on the ground and emptied it from its products: shampoos and lotions.
It was eight in the morning and the sun was timidly showing itself in the coldness of winter: December was a magic month; he was sure about it.

“Did you know where I should put these hair dyes?”

“Mmmh, he did not tell me anything but I think we have enough of them, put them in the storage room” Ochako suggested as she checked the agenda on her desk: today was going to be a nice cozy day, not too many costumers but a lot of hair-color changes. Todoroki would be super busy.

Speaking of the devil Todoroki walked in letting the cold breeze inside.

“Good morning!” He said as a little yawn left his mouth. He was wearing a red cardigan under the jacket, a new one that was courtesy of Izuku.