Little Miss Aizawa | Dadzawa [BOOK 2]

Chapter 11 - Their Blood On His Hands

WARNINGS: mention of bomb, mentions of death

"Alright, loser, don't move."

"I'm having so many regrets right now."

"Tough. Sit still." Neito pushed Hitoshi's face forwards, making sure he stayed there before grabbing the scissors. The time had come for the rat's nest to be trimmed, and Hitoshi wasn't convinced Neito was up to the task. 

"Do you even know what you're doing?" Hitoshi grimaced as he felt the scissors cut through a chunk of hair at the back. 

"Would you feel better if I said yes?"

"Marginally."

"Then sure!" 

Hitoshi let out a sigh, resigning himself to his fate. Neito calmly snipped away at his hair, the mats coming off in larger chunks. Hitoshi can't remember the last time he brushed his hair, or even just running his fingers through it to keep the tangles out. His scalp felt sensitive when Neito's careful fingers brushed against the skin, but other than that he had no complaints - other than the blatant unsureness of his brother's hair styling abilities, of course.

Before a couple of days ago, he wouldn't have even remembered what real food tasted like. The days had ticked by, time leaving him to slowly rot away in a cell. It had been months since he'd seen daylight, smelt anything besides sweat, blood, and mould. Since he'd felt someone touching him, not just existing within the same space. It was that feeling when all the weight holding you back suddenly released its constraints. A freedom so strong it made his eyes water.

"You know, I thought you were Dad at first." 

Hitoshi met Neito's eye in the bathroom mirror. "What?"

"You looked just like him." Neito gently tugged on his hair. "The long hair, the eyebags, the height. Sure, Hanta may have outgrown you, but's he's just a beanstalk in human form."

"Huh." Hitoshi murmured, eyes turning back to his lap. Barely any of them had mentioned the final missing member of their family. Hitoshi had assumed it was a sore subject for them, having to go on living like their father and husband hadn't turned to the dark side, but to hell with it, he needed to talk about it. "Have none of you see him?"

Neito sighed, clipping his hair a tad more aggressively. "Not in person, no. There's been sightings of a man in a red-crossed mask across the city, but they were few and far between. Hanta said he'd investigated each sight, but there was nothing." 

"They're careful - Blue Crossed. Never leaves a trace unless they want to." 

"Yeah, well, they certainly wanted to when they made a mess of that wreck in the city."

Hitoshi's brows furrowed. "What wreck?"

Neito spared him a glance. "The industrial site. Closed down years ago. Not even Pa remembers what it was used for."

"Blue Crossed was there?"

"Someone was there, we're not sure who." Neito explained, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "We initially thought Blue, but there was a creepy-as-hell message inside. Told us to trust them." 

Hitoshi attempted to turn around, but Neito's firm hand one his shoulder turned him back. He settled for staring through the mirror. "How'd you find that?"

"Hanta. On one of his little vigilante run-arounds."

"Right." 

Hitoshi jumped at the sound of a mechanical buzzing. "What are you-"