Autumn Leaves

Swoosh.

The man held the shower head above Aine as thousands of lukewarm drops darkened her snow hair. He made sure to take careful notice of the bruises that scattered her body. With one hand already distracted, he grabbed a bottle with the other and squeezed the viscous liquid onto his palm. His fingers rubbed against his palm then massaged it into her hair.

"Aine."

"Yes?"

"Can't you wash your hair and such by yourself?"

"B-But isn't the shampoo scary? I rarely had a chance to use it."

She hugged her knees which made the two mounds on her chest press against each other. Although the steam acted as a guise, it couldn't mask the gentle pink on her cheeks.

"Even though we might get married, being seen like this is embarrassing."

"Don't worry, I'm not looking at anything besides your head."

The continuous downpour made her squint from the escaped foams that threatened to sneak into her eyes. She wiped the intruders away with her arm and sat there in silence as the water trickled down her back.

'Now that I see her naked, she has too many bruises to count.'

Slowly, the man's fingers waved through the snowy threads that had little to no resistance. It slid through the gaps between the fingers when he noticed the ends of her hair. It was unruly and obvious that it was cut with no care.

'And her hair, did she cut it herself? Did they hate her?'

He was lost in thought when he rubbed against a lump. Her body quivered for that split second then relaxed back into its tranquil state.

"Ah, there's a spot that hurts, right?"

"The exact spot your left hand is touching."

"Ah, I'm sorry. Did it hurt?"

"No, I'm alright."

"Thank goodness then."

As the remains of shampoo wash away, he returned the bottle back into the steel baskets. From the corner of his eye, a small straight razor had its blade exposed. The steam painted along the sharp edge with moisture as it began to consolidate.

He ignored the dangerous hazard and grabbed a conditioner bottle, then repeated the same process on Ain's hair.

'Isn't she scared of touches? If she received these bruises from violence, then normally… normally…'

The gentle back-and-forth motion on her head stopped and Aine opened her eyes half-way. She wiped the excess water off her face when suddenly she felt a light tap against her shoulder.

Odd, she turned around but stopped midway.

Right before her pupil was a sharp tip that threatened to stab straight into her

was an inch away from stealing her sight. It was so close that she could see miniature droplets form along the steel surface.

However, contradictory to the man's expectations, she showed no signs of panic or fear. Instead, she just stared back with her vermillion irises that seemed to swirl around in circles.

"I could cut you with the razor. Aren't you scared?"

"Hm? Why would I be?"

"Nevermind. Sorry."

Aine sat in quiet once again with her back turned towards him. Even when he washed her hair, she didn't respond much.

'I've always wondered, why is Aine not scared of me, a kidnapper? When she came here and saw this room full of pictures, she accepted me, whose nature she didn't even know. I thought that was because she got along with her family too but… I was wrong.'

…

'Is she used to fear?'

A few seconds passed and Aine spoke once again, however, her cheerful tone was nowhere in sight.

"Are you surprised about the razor?"

The motion on her head stopped once more, but this time, his hands never left. The kidnapper stayed silent that the loudest sound came from the droplets that fell from the tap.

"Once… my father hit me with a jar and my mother cut me with knives. After countless days, my feelings broke and I couldn't feel pain or fear and by the time I noticed, I would be bleeding already. I ended up crumbling and so things like fear didn't bother me."

She then clasped her hands and slowly looked around with a small titter. "That's why I'm not scared anymore."

However, instead of the consoling words that she anticipated for, she was hit with a quick refute instead. "That's not something to laugh about. Not saying that you're hurt and keeping calm when someone shoves a razor up your face. Then, in that case, isn't your fear of shampoos a lie?"

Aine stared at the man. Her eyes turned serious unlike her usual cheerfulness and the embarrassment she displayed disappeared like the wind. She didn't bother to cover her naked body. Even though he could see her twin mounds, his attention was focussed elsewhere.

Bruises, cuts, burns. There were countless wounds that he could see with the naked eye that made him clench his fists.

"That's right. That was a pretext to show you my wounds because they were 'gross', so I wanted to see what you would think when you saw them too."

"So that was your reason." He kneeled down on one leg in front of her.

"Aine, I don't really mind them and more importantly, you should treasure yourself more. If there is any danger, run away. If you're hurt, ask for help. If anything happens, I'll come rescue you. After all, we promised that we'll get married."

Her eyes calmed down, and she lowered her head as if a child that was caught from by their father. "I'm sorry."

"Aine, in these situations, you say thank you."

An intense heat flushed her red, and she covered her cheeks with the back of her hands. She tried her best to keep calm but her blooming face betrayed her guise.

"Th-Thank you."

The man stood up and ambled towards the bathroom door. He adjusted the sleeves of his shirt and opened the door. "Alright. I'm done with the hair, so wash your body by yourself. You only need to use soap. Once you're done, I'll cut your hair."

"Eh? Ah… alright!"

He closed the door behind him and leaned against it for a while in a daze. 'I'll go and rescue you… such an irresponsible phrase. Even though I could I could have blinded her.'

After a moment of rest, he walked into the one room. The windows shined a flickering orange that descended into a deeper colour over time. When he looked out from the window, the whole day would replay in his head.

The image of her smile as the razor glared before her eyeball was ingrained in his mind. If she died, would she accept it with that smile? To what extent would that face be real? Just the thought of it makes me shudder.

"Um, I'm done so please cut my hair."

He broke out of his daze and turned around. Behind the bathroom door, Aine had a towel wrapped around her. Droplets of water rushed down her hair and a puddle laird beneath her feet.

"But, aren't you completely soaked? Dry yourself properly or you'll catch a cold."

…

After he dried her off, he had her sit on the chair while he got a pair of scissors out from a drawer. He also grabbed the small bin and placed it behind the chair.

"It feels like a beauty salon, being able to take a bath and get a haircut like this."

He ignored her comment and begun to snip the unruly ends of her hair. "Say… since you went to school with those wounds, didn't anyone notice you were abused?"

Like autumn leaves, the snipped pieces of hair fell from its branches and eventually landed on the plastic ground. Aine was quiet and lightly tapped against the chair. It produced a subtle sound.

"Everyone knew… but that would've created a big fuss. And the fact that I was being bullied would get exposed too, right? "

Snip.

"I hid that I was being bullied at school and that I was being abused at home. Everyone feigned ignorance about what they knew."

Snip.

Snip.

'There was no one to help her. Naturally, Aine was alone… just like how I was back then.'