Raindrop
Still at the salon, after the trim.
leaving with a simple style and a fringe cut.
Small win for Jasmine, new style for Ryo (no cut)
Ryo’s fresh trim had given him a sharper, more refined look, but there was a part of him that couldn’t quite embrace the change. His waist-length hair had been cut perfectly, now falling in smooth strokes, the ends clean and neat in a way that almost felt too polished for him.
I stood confidently at the side, watching him as he ran his fingers through his newly cut hair. I could see the hesitation in his eyes. He was still unsure about it, and that made me smile.
I couldn’t resist teasing him. “You know, Ryo,” I said with a mischievous smile, “I’ve got a little challenge for you now.”
He blinked and looked at me uncertainly. “A challenge? About my hair again?”
Leaning against the counter, I casually ran my fingers through my own hair and gave him a teasing look. “Oh, yes. I have a favorite style I love on you. If you can guess it right, I’ll let you keep your hair however you want for the rest of the day.”
Ryo raised an eyebrow, already sensing where this was going. “And if I get it wrong?”
I smirked, letting my voice drop into a playful authority. “Well, then… you’ll have to walk around with my choice for you. And it might not be the style you want.”
He shifted uneasily, running his fingers through his hair as if trying to tame it. “Alright, alright. What are the options?”
I cleared my throat dramatically, leaning in closer with a twinkle in my eyes. “Here we go. Four choices. Only one is my favorite, and if you get it right… you win.”
I raised my fingers to number the options as I spoke.
“Option one: High Ponytail. A clean, bold style that shows off the length and volume of your hair. It swings dramatically when you move, and I can’t help but watch it bounce with every step you take.”
Ryo glanced at me, uncertain but intrigued.
“Option two: Sleek Side Ponytail. A smooth, controlled style. It gives off a playful elegance, not the messy bun you’re used to.”
“Option three: Loose and Flowing. You know, just letting your hair fall free, untamed. You rarely let it down, but when you do, it looks effortlessly beautiful, showing off every inch of that gorgeous length.”
His gaze flickered for a moment, a slight flush creeping onto his cheeks as he thought about how his hair looked when it cascaded down like that, natural and free.
“And finally, option four: The Manly Bun. Your signature look. Neat, controlled, and safe. Practical, no fuss.”
I watched him closely, my eyes glinting with mischief. “So, which one do you think is my favorite?”
Ryo chewed his lip nervously, glancing between the options. He probably knew he was going to get it wrong, but I could see the hope that he might guess it right.
After a long pause, he finally spoke, still hesitant but with some confidence. “I think… I think it’s the loose and flowing look. I mean, you always talk about how much you love my long hair, so it has to be that one, right?”
I let out a dramatic sigh, my smile widening as I gave him a slow, sarcastic clap. “Close, Ryo… but not quite.”
Ryo’s shoulders slumped slightly. “Wait… what? It’s not?”
I smiled, my eyes gleaming with playful authority. “Nope. It’s the high ponytail. That’s my favorite.”
Ryo blinked in surprise. “The high ponytail?”
I nodded, stepping closer and gently brushing my fingers through the ends of his freshly cut hair. I pulled a random piece taut, showing off the new bluntly cut lengths. “Yes. I love the way it swings when you move. And honestly? It shows off how long and thick your hair’s gotten. When it swings, it’s dramatic… and it’s exactly what I want to see today.”
Ryo, still processing the fact that he’d lost the quiz, let out a soft sigh as I moved my hands to his hair. He flinched slightly as I gathered his strands at the top of his head, his cheeks flushed, partly from my teasing and partly because of how soft my touch was.
“Hey, wait—are you really going to—” Ryo started to protest, but his words were cut off as I skillfully gathered his hair. My fingers slid effortlessly through the smooth, silky strands, feeling their weight as I lifted them from his shoulders. I pulled the hair upward with ease, gathering it where it would sit in a bold, high ponytail.
His protests faded as my hands moved swiftly, positioning his hair into place. I worked my fingers through the strands, smoothing them as I went, ensuring there were no stray hairs left behind. With one hand holding the gathered hair firmly, I used the other to loop a hair tie around it. It took some effort to pull that waist length hair through. I twisted it once, then twice, tightening it just enough to keep the ponytail secure but not so tight it would pull at his scalp.
As I finished, I tugged the ponytail slightly to ensure it was secure. The ends of his ponytail fell gracefully, with the strands swaying every time he moved. It was bold, dramatic, and it drew attention to him in a way that his usual style hadn’t.
I gave the ponytail a gentle tug, watching it bouncing back into place, the length of his hair shifting with a playful fluidity. The high ponytail was sleek yet full of life, every movement emphasizing the dramatic change in his look.
“See? Doesn’t that look amazing on you?”
Ryo hesitated, his eyes shifting nervously to the mirror. The high ponytail gave him a bold, striking look. The weight of his long hair shifted in a way he wasn’t used to, and the ponytail swished with each movement of his head. He hadn’t realized how playful it could look.
“Uh… it feels… a little… different,” Ryo admitted shyly, his hand self-consciously brushing through the ponytail.
I grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “It’s just a little bold for you, huh? I can tell you’re not used to it, but trust me, it looks fantastic. You should let me style it this way more often.”
Ryo met my gaze in the mirror, his expression a mix of shy reluctance and undeniable intrigue. “Maybe… maybe I could get used to it.”
I smiled brightly, stepping back and admiring my handiwork. “I knew you’d come around. Now you get to show off that gorgeous hair all day.”
Losing more than just the quiz (the cut)
Ryo stood up from the salon chair with a lazy stretch, his freshly trimmed high ponytail swinging behind him in one smooth, deliberate motion. It had this annoying confidence to it—thick, straight, and perfectly tied. The ends curved just slightly from the trim, catching the light as if showing off. I watched the whole thing from where I was leaning against the counter beside his station, arms crossed, hip tilted lazily. His ponytail bounced again as he rolled his shoulders, the swing too precise to be anything but intentional. He was milking it.
My own hair hung straight and gleaming, just as he’d requested earlier today. He’d looked me straight in the eye this morning and said, “Wear it down for me. In a middle part. No hair ties or claw clips today. I want to see all of it.” So here it was—sleek, glassy, and unapologetically long, spilling like molten ink over my back. The weight was comforting, the thickness satisfying. Every time I moved, the strands shifted with controlled grace. It was my power, my armor, and now, thanks to that smug ponytail of his, it was at risk.
Ryo turned toward me, his face splitting into a grin that told me trouble was coming. “Alright,” he said, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulder with far too much swagger. “Since you ambushed me earlier with your little quiz, I think it’s only fair I give you one of my own.”
I raised an eyebrow, still leaning against the counter. “You want to test me? After I practically gifted you the perfect ponytail moment?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he said, showing off his ponytail as if to taunt me. “Just one question. What’s my favorite hairstyle on you? Get it wrong… and I think it’s time we finally see what you look like with bangs.”
My fingers twitched at my sides. I glance toward my reflection in the mirror. My perfectly smooth, middle-parted hair falling in undisturbed columns. “You wouldn’t.”
He stepped closer, listing off the options like he’d rehearsed them. “One: French twist. Two: long and loose. Three: low side braid. Four: slick high bun with chopsticks.”
I scowled. He knew how seriously I took my hair. The French twist had significance, especially from that first day he came back. The high bun was too severe. The braid—rare. That left the obvious answer.
“French twist,” I said, coolly.
Ryo tilted his head, ponytail swinging softly behind him. “Wrong.”
I pushed off the counter. “What?” My jaw dropped. “Wrong? What do you mean wrong?! That’s practically iconic!”
“Iconic, yes. But not my favorite,” Ryo said, clearly enjoying this far too much. “The correct answer is long and loose. Just the way it naturally falls when you’re not trying too hard. That’s when you look most like… you.” He grinned like a fox. “Just like this. When it falls and frames your face like it’s daring me to touch it.
“You’re cheating,” I hissed through a smile, already knowing I had lost.
I couldn’t find any more words. I just stared at him, jaw tense. Of course he picked the one style he asked for. The one I wore today just for him.
He nodded toward the now-empty chair. “Come on, Jas. Let’s make good on the bet.”
I exhaled, slowly stepping past him, brushing his ponytail lightly with my arm on the way. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Of course I am,” he said, as I looked on with a reluctant gaze. “You’re about to look even more irresistible.”
Ryo didn’t even try to hide how smug he was as he turned and waved the stylist back over. She looked mildly surprised at first, then her eyes lit up as realization settled in. “Oh? You lost?” she asked me directly, eyes flicking to my hair with an almost gleeful curiosity.
“Apparently,” I muttered, still standing beside the chair he had just vacated. The stylist clapped her hands gently and gestured toward the seat. I hesitated for half a second, just enough time for Ryo’s ponytail to swing tauntingly again as he leaned at the side.
“Come on,” he teased, “it’s just bangs. You’ll survive.”
I rolled my eyes and reluctantly lowered myself into the chair. The stylist draped the cape around me in a practiced motion, the silky fabric unfurling with a cool whisper against my arms and neck. It snapped shut at the collar and as it settled over my shoulders, my hair had been caught underneath. The thick weight of it pressed against my neck, held between me and the cape. For a brief moment, it felt like part of me had vanished, hidden beneath the sleek fabric. I couldn’t see it, couldn’t feel its familiar sway and that disoriented me more than I expected.
Without a word, the stylist reached behind me. I felt her fingertips gather the trapped mass, gently tugging the strands free from beneath the cape. A rush of cool air hit my back as my hair was lifted, drawn up and over the cape in one fluid motion. The soft swish of it cascading down the plain white cape sent a shiver down my spine. My hair rested proudly across the back of the chair like it belonged on display.
The stylist gently lifted my hair from the back of the chair and carefully draped it over my shoulders, letting the heavy length fall in front of me. Her fingers worked with the brush as if my hair could somehow be coaxed into more smoothness. The bristles glided effortlessly through the strands, making a soft, rhythmic sound, almost as if she were reassuring herself that everything was in its right place. There was no real need for the brushing, but she did it anyway, I pretended that the act was her honoring the beauty of the length that had taken so much time to grow.
As she brushed, I couldn’t help but watch the way it shimmered under the salon lights, silky and weightless. The strands cascaded like a smooth waterfall down my chest, glossy and unmarred by any tangles. My hair, always my pride, was undeniably sleek. The weight of it settled on my shoulders, a comforting sensation of familiarity. I’d had it this long for so long now, it was as much a part of me as my own skin.
But now, with the cape still snug around me, it felt as though my identity, my crowning glory, was being prepared for something new. My fingers twitched, wanting to reach up and touch it, to savor the feeling of it against my fingertips before the stylist made her first snip. I haven’t had so much length cut off.
The stylist paused, setting the brush down as my hair lay in front of me, framed by the salon lights, the strands already perfectly placed. My reflection stared back at me, and for a brief, almost fleeting second, I felt the weight of its impending loss.
Her hands entered my hair softly. She gathered it back reverently, lifting the long, straight locks off my shoulders to twist them gently into a loose bundle and clipped it high at the back of my head. The pull of my long locks was gone, just like that, leaving my neck exposed and the front section of my hair hanging loose. I shivered. Not from cold, but from the realization of what was about to happen.
I watched through the mirror as she sectioned out a triangle of hair from my crown to my temples. She used the tail of her comb with precision, dragging it down with surgical neatness. The rest of my hair was clipped securely away, leaving the dramatic triangle of hair hanging forward, heavy and straight. My long, inky strands tumbled down till my lap, just as long as the rest of my hair that’s held up, adding to the sense of impending transformation. I could already feel my stomach flip as the first step of the change began.
The stylist moved in front of me now, combing the section forward slowly, aligning every strand with meticulous care. The teeth of the comb whispered through my hair from crown to tip, again and again, smoothing it until it looked painted onto my face. I could barely see past it. Then, without warning, she tilted my chin slightly downward.
I held my breath.
The scissors lifted. The first snip came with a sharp, whispery sound and an instant shift of my gut. Long black strands dropped in soft curves onto the cape and floor, contrasting against the shorter snips of Ryo’s recently trimmed waist-length hair that now littered the floor. The stylist continued snipping, deliberate and steady, cutting across the brow, following the angle of my face. She worked the center first, trimming it to just below my eyebrows, and then gradually softened the edges, leaving them slightly longer to frame the sides of my face. The bangs were short. They now highlighted my eyes and made them stand out in a way I wasn’t used to.
With soft snips. More strands fell. I watched them land on the cape, helpless to stop them. My expression twisted—part intrigue, part dread. The thick black locks that had cascaded down my butt now lay discarded on the floor, scattered like dark, unspooled silk, their length a stark contrast to the short bangs now framing my face.
Ryo leaned in from the counter, that ridiculous ponytail swaying as he tried to get a better view. I caught his reflection, his grin widening with each falling lock of my hair. “Looking good, Jas,” he said, voice low. “Starting to think this should’ve happened sooner.”
I didn’t answer. I was too focused on the sensation—the oddly light tickle of the freshly cut ends brushing my skin, the way the fringe swayed with even the slightest breath I took. It was so different. Vulnerable. My security blanket cut up.
The stylist feathered the ends of my freshly cut bangs with quick, upward snips, giving them movement and softness. She stepped back, and with a swift motion, she removed the cape from my shoulders, taking it with her as she moved away. I sat up straighter, my fingers instinctively reaching for my bangs, my eyes studying my reflection in the mirror.
My sleek, one length hair was gone. In its place was the soft curve of my new fringe, now resting just below my eyebrows. The sides barely grazed my cheekbones. I ran my fingers through them, feeling their smooth weight. I reached up again, brushing them aside gently, feeling the motion as they shifted with each movement. They slid right back into place, obedient and soft, with just the slightest defiance.
The rest of my long black hair was still securely clipped up, hidden for now. I took a breath, adjusting to the new look, and gave myself a small nod of assurance.
The stylist unclipped the rest of my hair, letting it fall with a dramatic flourish. My sleek black mane cascaded down my back once more, but the bangs remained the focal point of my new look. I brushed them aside again, feeling their soft weight shift back into place. The contrast between the shortness of the fringe and the length of my hair was striking—my bangs settled with just the slightest defiance, like they were making a statement all on their own.
Before I could dwell on it further, I heard Ryo’s teasing voice. He was twirling a long strand of my freshly cut hair between his fingers. I glanced over, and with a sigh, stood up.
Ryo held up one of the longer strands, his grin widening. “This strand is even longer than my ponytail,” he teased, flicking it playfully in front of my face. “Looks like you don’t have your one-length hair down to your ass anymore, huh?”
I shot him a look, lips curling into a half-smile. “You’re loving this way too much.”
Ryo’s grin only grew, his ponytail swaying with each playful movement. “Honestly, this is the best haircut. I’ve really enjoyed myself today,” he said, his tone light but with a hint of amusement. “You know, now that I get to see you with bangs, I kind of like how it looks on you.”
I narrowed my eyes, a mischievous gleam lighting up my gaze. Without hesitation, I stepped toward him, my hands moving to his ponytail. I didn’t just glance at it—I grabbed it, tightening the ponytail hair tie just enough to make Ryo flinch. The action wasn’t rough, but it was sharp enough to make him feel the pull. “Keep it up, Ponytail,” I warned, my voice low and teasing. “I might just take care of that little ponytail of yours next.”
Ryo’s eyes widened slightly, feeling the discomfort of the tight pull, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he gave me a playful smirk, clearly undeterred by the slight sting. “Touché,” he muttered, his grin only growing as I released his ponytail, leaving him with a tight, slightly uncomfortable grip on his hair. “You know, I’m really starting to like this haircut thing on you.”
