Sometimes I picture this scenario where Michiru is just having a HORRIBLE hair day. It’s so chaotic and unruly and trying to tame it has only made it worse. It’s just a bad hair day but something about it just doesn’t sit well. It brings with it a dour mood and memories of days she’d sooner like to forget. I just picture her sitting on her bed. Sitting on the edge and wrapped in a silk robe, slightly hunched over and her face set in this hollow expression. It’s just a bad hair day and yet it brings with it this weight and spiral of emotions. Something so inanely common and yet it just brings her so low.
It’s pathetic, she tells herself. Michiru Kaioh. Brought down by an unruly mane…
Haruka walks past the door and stops. Uncertain of what to do at first, then it hits. She will simply do as she once did a long time ago. Once upon a time a young teal haired girl stood at the shores edge. Hair unwilling to take any sort of shape other than fluffed and upright. A face so angry and yet also sad. While she couldn’t give what the girl truly wanted, she could however offer a solution.
She could do the same again.
Haruka crawls onto the bed and kneels behind Michiru. As her hands reach out to begin the task at hand she starts to hum. The melody is soft and low. Normally Haruka could have this done near as promptly as she began but that didn’t feel needed. Slow and steady, letting each section of hair gently glide through her fingers. With each motion Michiru would ease up bit by bit. She’d sit a little more upright and the tension in her body would ease. Haruka entwined the end of the brain in her fingers as she had nothing to tie it off at the moment. It could wait. Not letting go of the brain Haruka leans forward and embraces Michiru with one arm and leans her head into hers. Michiru’s hands raise take hold of Haruka’s arm. She turns a bit and kisses Haruka’s hand then leans into the embrace.
No words were said. None were needed.
I picture this all the time when Haruka braiding Michiru’s hair is mentioned.