#thought of doing purple at first cuz the other five colours in the rainbow are already taken

[fumiko-matsubara]

Akari for the masquerade themed merch because if Kayano can't be in it, why not her then?!

[love-the-purple-cat]

Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 5

“Yer hair again?” She asks, idly kicking one of the men when they try to get up.

“Not quite. They got mad I beat up their men who made fun of my hair and decided that I needed to be taught a lesson.”

She snorts unattractively. “Do ya even like yer hair colour?”

Once again, Ichigo pauses in though. “...Why do you ask that?”

“Cause, no offence, but yer hair keeps gettin' ya inta trouble, and ya don’t even seem ta’ appreciate it. If it’s too much then just dye it sumthin' borin'.”

...It’s not that he hadn’t thought about it, it’s just that it was one of the few connections he had still with his mother. Dyeing it seemed like a betrayal, and felt like giving up and admitting defeat after fighting others about it for so long.

“Ah, that does sound like a good reason not ta' dye it,” She says when he unintentionally thinks aloud. “But yer missin' ma' point: Are ya happy wit' yer hair? The colour will still appear when ya grow it out, it’ll just be temporarily hidden.”

He lightly fingers a strand. It was getting longer.

“I'll think about it.”

She nods. Neither pleased nor displeased.

 ------------------------

“Come over this weekend.”

They are eating lunch in her classroom, in a way celebrating becoming friends after knowing each other for a month. Her classmates occasionally throw them looks that they ignore.

“Sure. What are we goin' ta' do?”

He thinks of the box of black hair dye that he got on his last shopping trip with Yuzu two days ago. Yuzu had looked at him questionably but hadn’t said a thing to their family. “I need help with my hair.”

Cherī raises a brow, not getting the hint.

“I’m...” He swallows, eyes flickering to the other people in the room. “I’m thinking of trying something new. That thing you talked about a few days ago.”

It takes a moment longer for her eyes to light up in recognition and understanding. “Sure, where will we meet up?”

The corner of his lip twitches up.

 ---------------------------

“Yer mom famous or sumthin'?”

He looks to where she is examining his mother’s poster. “No, my dad got it after she died.”

She appears to be contemplating something before looking away. “So, where’s yer bathroom? Ah’m not gonna lie, da dye will stain yer bathtub/tiles like a bitch when ya wash it out. Best ya put on some old clothes too.”

Ichigo nods and leads the way, feeling nervous and calm at the same time.

Cherī orders him to sit on the edge of the bath, or bring a chair but then there’s a chance that it would be stained so he doesn’t. She starts by brushing his hair and parting it before beginning. “Ya sure ‘bout this, Ichigo?”

“Yeah.” His tone is breathless, heart thumping hard in his ribcage and something is lodged in his throat.

“Okay.” Her voice is soft and quiet, though not in comfort. It just is.

His eyes close, a foreign calmness taking over him as she works on his hair. It isn’t as short as it used to be, but it isn’t as long as he would have guessed it would be after not seeing a hairdresser for nearly a year.

“An’ now we leave it fer 25mins.” Her voice arouses him from the half-asleep state he had been in. He turns to look at himself in the mirror, but she blocks his view. “Let’s leave that fer later, okay?” Her voice is soft again.

He swallows thickly and nods. “Okay.”

They go to his room. They don’t talk, not really, but the silence doesn’t feel suffocating. She looks around the small space, and the though of how empty his room looks strikes him. There is only the essentials of a bed, a desk with a corkboard over it, and a chair. It doesn’t have any personality.

But, why does he care what his room looks like to an outsider?

“Ya got any favourite books?” Cherī asks, done looking around the bare room.

“Shakespeare.” He answers automatically.

“He’s good. Don’t know much ‘bout his works, only Romeo an' Juliet an’ that’s just a general idea. Ah like Dracula, an' Dr.Jekyl an' Mr.Hyde. Ya know, books wit' what could be considered a homoerotic undertone nowadays.” She looks at the notes stuck on the board. Most of them are related to school or past commitments so he doesn’t see a problem with her looking.

“Ya got any relatives? Ah got at least two first cousins an' a bunch of other great aunts an' uncles that ma' parents want me ta know ‘bout even though Ah only meet ‘em once every five years. Kinda pisses me off when they get annoyed that Ah don’t know any of their names, but that’s what happens when ya barely see someone.”

He blinks. This was the first time since the first day that she is mentioning family. “Not on my mom’s side, I think. But on my dad's...”

Did he have relatives in Soul Society? There were quite a few similarities between him and Kūkaku, and Ukitake-taichō had mentioned that he looks like his former lieutenant Shiba Kaien.

“’s okay ta' not know.” Cherī says. “Family’s confusin' sumtimes, an' it doesn’t help when they keep secrets, or don't bother mentionin' important stuff.”

She was right. His father had kept the fact that he was a shinigami from him, what’s one more secret?

“Time ta' wash yer hair. Ya need help wit' that?”

“No.”

She doesn’t smile, nor does she frown. “Okay.”

 -------------‐-----------------

He doesn’t like how he looks.

No...

He hates how he looks. He looks way too similar to Kūkaku, with his sharp chin and eyes.

He looks way too similar to them.

What was one more secret?

-The past is never dead. It’s just buried underneath soil and concrete-

“Ichigo,” Cherī calls, brown brows furrowed in concern. “Are ya okay?”

No. “Yeah.” He croaks. He clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, just getting used to the new look.” He tries to smile but it must have come out as a grimace with the way she frowns.

“Okay. Ya got a dark hat or sumthin'?”

“Why?”

“’Cuz we're goin' ta' da store an' we're gonna buy ya a new dye.”

“This one is fine.”

“No, it ain't.” Her voice is a touch harder. “It’s makin' ya sad an' that’s da opposite of what we were aimin’ fer.”

“Cherī-“ He tries but is cut off.

“There's nothin’ wrong wit’ not likin' how ya look. Nothin' wrong wit' not likin’ black.” She says, and for a single moment, it feels as though she is talking about something else, like she knows what his inner tumour is about. “Let’s go get ya a new colour, Ichi.”

He nods, and chokes out an “Okay.”

 -----------------------

They're at one of the shops on the main street.

The first thing that greets them when they enter is hair dyes on one side of the aisle and deodorants on the other. Ichigo browses through the ‘natural’ colours first before going to the more ‘fun' – as Cherī calls them – ones. 

 All the colours of the rainbow were here: red, green, blue, purple, yellow and orange, along with a couple of other colours, each having different shades from lighter to darker. 

“When Ah first started dyeing ma' hair,” Cherī says, picking up a box and examining it. “Ah did it in ma' favourite colour – purple. Months later, Ah found out that if Ah planned on continuin' ta' dye ma’ hair fun colours, da colours would need ta' be ones that can easily be turned inta the next. Fer example: Ya dye yer hair blue, few months pass and ya want a new colour, yer either gonna havta bleach it or yer gettin' it done in green. Understand?” She places two bleaching kits in the basket.

Ichigo nods, examining the colours. His eyes stray towards the blue dyes, specifically the one that reminds him of Grimmjow.

He swallows.

Several months have passed since he had last seen the Espada; how would he react if he were to see him now – powerless and alone?

Well, he glances at Cherī as she compares two different shades of pink, not quite alone.

“Do ya like blue?” She asks, both boxes securely placed in the basket.

“Yeah,” He wets his lips. “I do.” It feels like he is confessing a sin by saying those words and thinking about his enemy. Were they even enemies now?

“Then get it.” She doesn’t reach for the box, preferring to wait for him to do it.

“It will clash with my complexion.” He argues weakly. Raising two girls since he was nine forced him to dive into fashion and learn the rules: body types, complexions, colour schemes and such. There were many other things he had to learn and do while his father was in mourning to survive but now was not the time to think about the past.

“So? This ain’t a fashion statement, Ichi. It's about makin' ya feel good and happy. But... if ya want a more autumn colour we can get red.” She reaches for the box and he grabs her wrist.

“No, not red.” Red reminds him of Renji, who reminds him of Rukia. Neither has bothered to visit him the months following Aizen's defeat. The excuse of him being unable to see them wouldn’t fly, not when he knew Urahara keeps gigais in his shop.

-There are bodies in the soil-

“Okay.” She says, slowly pulling her hand away. “Not red then. Bad memories?”

He winces, releasing her wrist to rub at his neck. “It’s... complicated.”

The girl huffs, “What does it remind ya of?”

He meant to say, “Nothing”. He wanted to say, “Renji”.Hell, he could have said nothing and she would have accepted his silence as an answer. Which is why he is so surprised when the word leaves his mouth without his permission.

“Blood.”

And it is true. The shade she was reaching for also reminds him of blood. It makes him remember the wound he had been inflicted in Hueco Mundo, where he quite literally died and was dead for a while, long enough for his inner Hollow to take control and battle the cuatro Espada Ulquiorra and win, before he managed to wrestle back control of his body. It also reminds him of the markings on his hollow mask.

Cherī looks surprised - not mortified, just... surprised. “Okay,” She repeats. “Not red.”

She’s examining the colours, searching for one that would fit his complexion, when he reaches forward and plucks the blue, Baby Blue, one and puts it in the basket. She doesn’t question him, doesn’t even indicate to have seen him do it but he knows she saw him and he appreciates her silence.

“What ‘bout green?”

His first though is Ulquiorra with his acid green eyes, marble skin, and black black bat wings that carry him over the sands of Hueco Mundo.

His second is Nelliel.

 “I like it.” He picks a turquoise shade called Mermaid.

“Pink?”

He likes pink, he's worn it often enough when he was younger and his sisters wanted to dress him up, but...

“No, not today.”

“Bad memories?”

He thinks of Yachiru, the girl with what he would describe bubblegum pink – even if that shade is called Cupcake here – hair and the man whose shoulder she would ride on.

“Not really.”

She nods, then juts her chin violently towards a reddish-pink colour named Love Letter. “What ‘bout that?”

The colour is nice so he gets it.

They continue on like that for a while, choosing and comparing colours - some of which repeat since Cherī also likes them - until the basket is overflowing. As a final colour Cherī chooses Snow – a pure white colour that reminded him of his inner Hollow's hair.

There's so much hair dye that he wonders whether he would ever be able to use each at least once.

The cashier is baffled by the amount but remains silent while she rings them up. It's as the numbers climb higher and higher that he begins to worry, given that he hadn’t brought that much money. But before he can open his mouth Cherī is already handing her credit card with a, “Could you also add one strawberry and one cherry flavoured chapstick? Thank you.”

He turns to look at her in bafflement. This was the first time he hears her speak ‘properly’ and it honestly unnerves him.

“Not ev'ryone can understan’ me, Ichi.” She says, handing him one of the bags.

They make their way to his house, talking about which colour they should do first. Cherī wants to see him in Love Letter or Milan – a light yellow colour that reminds him of an éclair's filling – but he says that he wants to try Baby Blue. She nods and gives him the strawberry chapstick.

“Yer lips are chapped.” She says and he accepts it.