University? F that

*yeah, I'm still alive. Lot of work, me tired, less write. Sorry yall, I'mma keep trying tho. For now enjoy this silly bit. Peace out and Deus vult*

Mark simply stood idle as Himeko explained the rest of the reason for their return to the Planet of Festivities, going through the subject of the academic conference on the topic of 'Trailblazing' and how they could attend university as guest students. He simply stood by, idly tracing back his memories of the moment that didn't get to arrive. 

"Is something on your mind, Mark?" asked Welt, noticing how Mark's gaze had simply fixated itself on the floor, a habit of his done mainly when focused on his thoughts. The others turned to look at him again, expecting some kind of answer, perhaps focused on the nature of their mission or some random bit of information like the usual ordeal that he spewed out from the depths of his psyche. 

"Oh, I was just thinking that, before I somehow found myself in this entire mess, I had just finished my finals in high school. Technically, I had been accepted into university; alas, we'll never know how it would have been there for me," he said calmly, nodding slightly as if approving his own words. 

"With how dumb you are at times, I'm surprised you even made it that far," chuckled March, yet the tinge of truth in her words hit Mark like a slap in the face. 

"As self-aware of my idiocy as I am, it still feels like a slap to have someone else point it out for me," he chuckled, shaking his head slightly. 

"What major?" asked Himeko, curiosity carved into her expression, the gentle gaze she usually wore painted with soft undertones of the emotion. 

"Software Engineering. Yes, I kinda married my laptop by that point... damn, I miss my laptop..." 

As he trailed off with the flicker of love for his now-gone laptop, the others chuckled softly, and Stelle gave him a playful pat on the back. 

"Being married to your laptop sure sounds a bit sad. I'm glad that you're touching more grass with us and you're exploring the universe." 

The comment brought back memories of simple times when touching grass was the issue he'd use with most of his friends that were too busy either playing games all day or reading fanfics to no end. 

"Well, I did touch more grass than a lot of people I knew, but surely it can't hurt to touch some more." 

Deep was the sigh that left his lungs as he ran a sluggish hand through his hair, feeling the now somewhat long locks of hair. It had been a while, and it sure did keep growing before he even knew it. Just then, he became aware of how the shorter strands on the sides were prickling his earlobe, silently threatening to take over if given enough time. His forehead scrunched as his irises moved upwards to the now-visible hair that fell over his forehead and now got into his eyes. 

"Fuck," he muttered, moving it aside once more. Himeko chuckled slightly, while Stelle and March, somewhat curious, began running their hands through it, and Mark didn't even bother protesting. 

"It seems like you need a haircut," she said as the sight before her slowly evolved into March and Stelle silently communicating about tying his hair into a lot of tiny ponytails. They giggled as their fingers slowly began tugging on it, pulling it from all sides. He simply sighed, glancing over at Dan Heng, who was relieved to not be the object of their silly actions for once. 

"Yeah, I could use a haircut. Not too short, cuz I look funny. Just a little at the tips to not let it get into my eyes, and the sides back to low-key 0.5 or whatever," he muttered blankly, the request part of him after the past visits to the barbershop. 

"I could trim your hair a little, if it's fine with you," chuckled Himeko, the unexpected offer catching him off guard. For a second, his hand shot up to his hair, trying to figure out if her hairstylist skills were the same as her cooking ones. 

"Uhm... you know what? I'll just wear a damn cap if it goes wrong. I guess I'll get a little haircut before our little university experience." 

Stelle and March kept tugging on his hair, his head moving around until they finally let go of him, the mess left behind reminiscent of a tornado ravaging all in its path. 

"In that case, I'll go get the equipment. It's pretty hard to get haircuts here while on the Express, so we handle it ourselves," she added, and before Mark could say anything else, she went off to grab the things. Meanwhile, he left the group and prepared for the ordeal, a bit unsure of whether his head would escape safely from the whole thing. 

So, there he waited, alone in the bathroom, sitting on a chair in front of the mirror. He didn't yet have a change of clothes, so instead of risking his shirt being filled with hair, he took it off, trying to fight back whatever thoughts came swirling in his mind. Just them, alone in there... 

"Focus, motherfucker! Focus, alright? The situation is still a little tense between us. Just fucking stop being stupid, alright?" 

He let out a heavy sigh, staring at his body in the mirror, the difference in nuance between his new arm and the rest of his body clear. The bits of Himeko's sword were still in his shoulder, a heart-shaped reminder of her sacrifice, her nature, and his wish to protect the Himeko of this world. He couldn't help but wonder if, maybe, he could've saved that part of her will found within the sword and brought back the real thing. The question, however, would remain without an answer. 

The bathroom door opened slowly, revealing Himeko with a tiny suitcase. She shot a glance Mark's way, noticing that he was shirtless. Her cheeks couldn't help but betray a little blush, which quickly faded away as she kept her composure. Her eyes quickly scanned over the changes in his body, traces of sadness lingering inside them. 

"Is it... alright?" she asked softly, putting the suitcase down before taking out the scissors, then the hair clipper, and other stuff she'd need. Mark was focused on the mirror, looking over his own arm. 

"I'd say it's alright, I guess. Feels normal, behaves normally; I guess it's... fine," he replied, yet the undertone was clear. His voice was strained, a noticeable difference that hinted at clear emotions boiling up inside. She wished to help, and yet he still seemed far away from her. There was a silent distance between them, one that needed a few steps to be closed—but oh, how difficult walking felt in those moments. 

She slowly stepped closer, looking down at him, meeting his gaze in the mirror for the briefest of moments. She focused on his shoulder, noticing the heart-shaped bit of metal implanted there. It felt eerily familiar, and without much thinking, she reached out, softly trailing the tips of her fingers along. 

"When did you get this?" she asked softly, a little out of it as the smooth surface embedded in his skin was foreign yet known to her. 

"Oh, this? When my new hand became a thing inside the cube. It just happened," he said bluntly, not going to reveal the whole truth to her. It was something that could use so much explaining to the point of altering things that he didn't want touched in the slightest. Still, the thought of Himeko meeting her other self brought about a tiny headache, yet it was an issue for another day. 

"Just happened? I find it hard to believe, but then again, you speak when you deem it necessary. It's a bit frustrating, I have to admit, but... it's your way of being. I shouldn't be upset," she whispered, the words reaching his ears like feathers caressing his skin. 

"Some things aren't meant to be known, while others are meant to be revealed in due time. Who knows what might happen going forward?" 

She nodded, the action absentminded as her focus was on the bit of steel in his shoulder. Somehow, it called out to her, so she kept tracing it. Mark, who was watching her expression mirrored in front of him, simply bit back a smile. It took her a while to snap out of it, a moment in which she kept going as if nothing had happened. Her hand reached out for the comb, brushing his hair in preparation. 

"So, just a bit at the tips and the sides shorter, right?" 

He nodded, watching the process in the mirror. 

"Yeah, just that." 

Thus, she slowly got ready to work, putting the cover around him before changing the size of how much the clipper would trim, letting it move along the sides of his head. He stood there, attentive, doing his best to not move at all. She was holding his head in place with one hand, moving it a bit when needed as her other one cut down thousands of hair strands. 

The buzz of the machine was the only sound in the room for a while; their minds sunk each into its own mess of words, apologies, and questions of all sorts. The colorful assortment was too much, but it needs a good sorting session to bring it back to light. 

"You know," she spoke, breaking the constant buzzing with the sounds of her voice. It was filled with emotion, yet Mark couldn't single out which one. "About my reaction back on Penacony, when you were going around with Acheron..." 

Mark sighed, smiling slightly. Still, he let her speak, listening intently to every word that came out of her lips. 

"I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me, but for some reason, I just lashed out at you. I shouldn't have done that, and... I'm sorry." 

He sighed softly, watching how she pulled the machine away from his head as she quickly wiped her eyes. 

"It's fine. I understand. I did go ahead randomly and just straight up began speaking with people, dancing, and doing whatever. I expect some things to play out the wrong way. It's like tossing a rock into a lake and expecting it to not cause ripples." 

She smiled a bit, meeting his gaze as she looked down his way, noticing that he turned his face her way. 

"Just like that? I'll be honest, I expected it to be a little difficult, considering how things played out after that," she chuckled softly, earning herself a simple wave of his hand. 

"Water under the bridge. Sure, I threw a fit, cuz I too have emotions and stuff that act up at times, but... knowing you're genuinely sorry is all I need. I was a bit of an asshole too, or at least I feel like that. I'm sorry as well." 

Gentle silence settled in before she tugged slightly on his hair. 

"I think we should stop this sap show, alright?" 

With one light nod from him, she was back to work, dutifully handling his hair, letting it fall down on the cover, the prickly strands forgotten there. Then, it switched to the sound of scissors chirping their little melody while they chattered away about the most random of things, getting to simply know each other a little more. It was a refreshing moment, just being open and relaxed, speaking with calmness and joy. 

"Well, it's done. What do you think?" 

He tilted his head from side to side as she brushed aside what hair remained, using the brush to clean his neck and shoulders as she pulled the cover away. Her gaze took a quick glance down his torso, noticing that his abdomen was intact, not even a scar remaining in the place. 

"I'd say I'm pretty damn handsome. Thanks. I like it." 

"You cheeky thing. Looks like you don't hold back on complimenting yourself," she teased, ruffling his hair. He stood up, staring at himself in the mirror. He was far from the same man at the start of the journey. His body didn't feel his own. His arm wasn't his. The question kept lingering in the back of his mind, showing itself anew. 

"Am I even human anymore?" 

Noticing the deep state of contemplation he was in, she couldn't help but playfully pinch his back. 

"Ouch!" he jumped, turning her way. Their gazes locked, the proximity clear. 

"You looked so deep in thought I couldn't help myself. Sometimes you make for an easy target, Mark." 

"Did you mean to make that pun?" 

She scoffed, looking away. 

"You and your puns. Of course I didn't mean to make it." 

He chuckled. 

"The joke sure hit the right 'Mark.' You aim well for the 'marked' target." 

She rolled her eyes, trying to fight back the smile that was creeping up her lips. 

"See? These jokes left their 'mark' on you. I told you I'm the guy who does that. Name checks out." 

She sighed, playfully hitting his shoulder, the soft sound of metal being hit resounding bluntly. 

"You sure know how to press all the wrong buttons on someone's mind, don't you?" 

He shrugged, raising his brows as he gave a mock 'clueless' face. 

"No clue what you're talking about. Now, I should take a shower. Gotta clean the remaining hair on my damned neck and shoulders before I put on my shirt and scream with regret." 

"You better hurry then," she warned him playfully. "I might start the warp with you in the shower. You know, payback for the puns and jokes you threw around." 

The image did make him laugh, seeing himself sprawled around, legs up in the air, his back on the floor from a simple slip. 

"You want little ole' me breaking my back? That's mean, you know?" 

She smiled, giving him a quick run over with her gaze before tapping his stomach. 

"I see no scar left. If you survived that, I expect you to use some trick and survive this too." 

She winked before heading for the door. 

"I'll leave you to your shower, alright? Just make sure to be quick since we're about to leave for Penacony once more." 

He sighed, stretching a little. 

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Not like I'm going to invite you to join me or something," he yawned, covering his mouth. She gave him a teasing look, answering without hesitation. 

"Behave yourself, young man. You'd love that, wouldn't you?" 

The door clicked closed, and Mark was left there to his devices. The exchange was random, perhaps him opening up too much and making the stupid jokes he used to with his friends, but she took it in stride. 

"Hell... I sometimes grow a good pair on the fly then lose it..."