Hizashi No Oku No Happy Heart

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Klacee Sawatzky

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Aug 3, 2024, 5:27:47 PM8/3/24

to sembburtandcon

But whilst sometimes the sheer number of stray cats can get frustrating, it's very different than bringing home a whole entire child. One covered in dirt and scars and a mulish expression to contradict the genuine fear in their eyes. Their hair is shorn short with something that must have been fairly blunt because it's frayed and jagged and Hizashi's fingers are already twitching to try to detangle and neaten it up.

"-we'll let you take a bath or a shower or whatever. Don't worry about the hot water or whatever, kid, but also try not to fall asleep if you can help it. Our bathroom door doesn't lock, but if you want to put the chair against it, you can. We'll knock if we want your attention, alright?"

"You can use Shouta's shampoo, lil' one. It'll be good for hair like yours." Shouta's natural wave will work well with their matted curls, although frankly he's more concerned about the kid hurting themselves with tugging at their awful tangles. At least their hair is short, if still dreadfully uneven.

"Up to you how I do it, but I could snip it all to the shortest length it currently is, I could buzz it, whatever you want with the length it currently has, although I'm not a hairdresser so it might not be perfect!" He laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck, and Shouta leans into him, a silent gratitude that swells Hizashi's heart.

And his heart warms even further when the kid twists a hand into the hem of their fraying hoodie, eyes narrowed up at him, before finally his shoulders relax a little, and nodding with a slight shrug.

"Uhm- I like the length of the top?" Hizashi crouches down a little, reaching out a hand that he pauses a foot or so from the kid, giving him the chance to move away or accept it. And they scuff their foot, arms folding over their chest and hunching in somewhat, yet ducks forward slightly all the same. With this, as carefully as possible, the blond threads fingers in amongst the matted curls, gently teasing some of them out. The top of the hair is the longest, but even that isn't more than an inch or two long, probably more like the latter when it isn't pulled out of its curl.

"I should be able to make all of the top about the same length, but some of the sides are inconsistently shorter so it might work best if I did a shorter back and sides. Would you be comfortable with a buzz for that part and me making the top all as long as possible?" He retreats somewhat then, keeping his hands close to himself and making sure the kid has plenty of room.

And they wait, Shouta's shin pressed to Hizashi's spine, before the kid nods, something about his harsh eyes softening a bit, ice beginning to thaw. (Shouta watches on, and whilst he knows that he had gotten through to the kid himself somewhat, that being able to ask him to follow Shouta home in the first place had been an achievement from a kid that had first talked to him with a brick in their bleached-knuckles grip and a set of bared teeth from which they spat exploitable weaknesses; it's no surprise to him though, that someone like his Sunshine, who is as sweetly warm as a summer's evening, is able to melt away some of the defensiveness of this kid who is bruised inside-out.)

"Then I'm just gonna grab some of the equipment from under this cupboard! Shou, would you mind going to grab some towels for the lil' one?" He tilts his head back, golden crown pressed to Shouta's thigh, smiling up at him in time to watch the shrug.

"Yeh, whatever," they grumble, but they tense up a little when Shouta turns and leaves the room. Hizashi, after a long second of silence, starts up his own stream of chatter. It's quiet enough that any loud sounds from elsewhere in the flat could be heard, but it's also a steady burble to distract and ground them both.

He talks about the cats, and then about how his friend had taught him to use the hair clippers back when they were all in junior high, and how he'd accidentally shorn a whole strip of his friend's hair far shorter than the rest, but that he's gotten a lot better now listener, don't worry!

"You don't have to, kiddo, I just want you to be comfortable in how we address you," Hizashi offers, looking up at the kid from where he's otherwise focused on the cupboard, because he wants them to understand the genuine earnestness to his words. Something in that must work, because they blink twice, hard, eyes more than dark, before loosening their posture just enough to not look like they're about to keel over with the shuddering strength of it.

"Got it, lil' one!" Hizashi chirps, reaching up to dump his box of hair cutting things on the bathroom counter. The ki- Izuku leans in a little, blatantly scrutinising the contents, only taking a few blinks before he straightens up again, apparently satisfied.

"Thanks, Shou! Kid, you happy with me telling Shouta what you just shared with me?" Hizashi would rather check whether or not Izuku is comfortable with him passing on the name and pronouns that he'd already been somewhat reluctant to share. But he gets a nod, so he beams at the kid, and turns back to Shouta,

"Alright, thank you. Kid, you want any water or a snack or anything? Zashi, same to you." The double-offer is very much intentional, trying to make the kid feel more comfortable, and with an awareness of that, the blond doesn't hesitate to request some water and some fruit for himself.

And after several more seconds, Izuku shrugs, a tiny, jerky movement that precedes a low mutter requesting some water as well. And Shouta just about manages not to frown, because the kid is nigh-on skeletal already. If he brings some spare fruit and maybe a few chocolate biscuits back with him, then it's because he forgot what they asked for, or so Shouta purports. The kid gives him an askance look for it, but there's also a glimmer of amusement to it.

At this point, the food gets set on the counter, and Hizashi pushes the chair in front of both the mirror and the food for the kid, gesturing him over. Shouta, whilst this is happening, makes himself at home on the floor beside the doorway, not wanting to come further into the room and crowd the kid. Izuku.

Hizashi, a half-eaten orange segment hanging from his lips, sets to work. As Izuku picks at some grapes for himself, the blond explains what he's going and why he's doing it as he goes along, starting with very carefully clipping the slightly longer top, then getting the clippers plugged in.

"Ya definitely happy with this, lil' one? We can do something else, or even nothing, if you'd still prefer." Somehow, despite all of his earlier reservations, now that Izuku has the clippers in sight, hair pinned up, he looks determined. Excited. It's in the restless tap of one finger, the twitching of the corner of his mouth, the fierce light in his eyes.

"Then let's rock and roll!" Hizashi chirps, and doesn't pause any further before switching the clippers on and starting to trim. He's got them on a four setting, so there'll still be some length to the kid's hair even on the undercut, but he can't go any longer with the uneven patches that are close to the scalp already.

As he shaves it all short though, he can't help but notice that there are scars amongst a lot of the shortest patches. They look like cut wounds, although there's one patch at the base of Izuku's skull where there's no hair at all, just a warped starburst. It looks like it came from some sort of fire or explosion. It looks like it hurt. Like it will have taken weeks or months to physically heal, pulling and tugging with his every movement, and that it must haunt him now, a slight weight and tension that will never leave him.

Hizashi grins, sun-bright and absolutely beaming, and skips back to stand behind Izuku again. From there, he sets to spraying the water-detangler mix over the longer curls, threading through them with his fingertips first, as careful as he can be, and manages not to tug too much. Once he has the worst of the knots worked out, he sets in with a comb as well, lengthening and straightening the strands as much as possible for the sake of being able to cut it more easily.

That done, he steps to the side, reaching past Izuku to get the scissors out of the bottom of the box, other things rattling whilst he tries to find them, and as he pulls them out, there's a quiet noise from beside him.

It's not a good noise. No, it's fear and fury all at once, child-scared wavering, and Izuku is scrambling up from his seat, breaths sharp, the back of his trembling legs pressed to the side of the bath. For his part, Hizashi freezes in place, completely unmoving, vaguely aware of how Shouta has shot to his feet as well, halfway-crouched and blatantly ready to move, to try and help.

"Lil' one, I'm going to put the scissors and comb down, if that's okay with you?" Hizashi waits for a long, aching few seconds, counting no less than five heartbeats before Izuku moves a little again, shoulders dropping slightly, his lip definitely a bit bloody where it gets released from between his teeth. Finally, he nods.

Hizashi, very much glad for that permission, drops them both, the scissors to the counter and the comb atop of the chair, and slowly straightens up. Izuku now has a clear line of sight for the door, chest hitching, and can also see Shouta clearly. It stops some of the breath-catching jerks of his body. Hizashi and Shouta both relax a little more themselves with that fact, and some of the tension in the room truly begins to evaporate.

"Can I ask what upset you, kid?" Shouta keeps his voice low and steady, utterly neutral with only the very faintest hint of something worried beneath it, and it helps keep the tension low, nobody breathing quite as badly as before, Izuku thankfully included in the latter fact.