Hikaru: Sigh . . . I’m an Abyss-fic-writing spree. Good thing they’re one-shots. This is an outtake, basically, when Luke cuts his hair. Hahaha.

Sync: Hikaru Irving owns nothing.

“Hey, Tear, you carry knives on you, right?” Luke asked. He knew that Tear wouldn’t believe in half-hearted words, so he would show her that he meant business. Tear nodded, almost stumbled over her reply.

“Y-yes . . .”

“Could I borrow one for a moment?”

Tear dug into her coat pockets, withdrew a knife. Luke caught a glimpse of all the other hand weapons Tear kept. Knives, needles, darts . . . just what sort of justice did Tear intend to bring Master Van to??

Tear held out her knife to Luke. Recalling what he meant to do, he took it, looked over the curved blade, how the moonlight shimmered off its edge. If he backed down now, Tear would never believe in him, and neither would anyone else. They would truly abandon him then. So he grabbed his hair, lifting the knife underneath the thick locks.

“Luke!” Tear exclaimed, surprised. Luke almost stopped, but he pulled the knife, began sawing off his hair, the weight of it was already halfway gone, and Luke began to finish the job—

His hands jerked, yanked both the knife and his hair. The rest of the hair came off quite easily. Luke straightened up. He sneezed. He examined the chair he’d just chopped off. It seemed too much . . .

“Tear,” he turned to her. “How bad is it?”

She remained speechless, although her face gave it away.

“Well, you cut your hair . . .”

“But I sneezed!” Luke protested. “How bad is it?”

Tear looked as if she wanted to laugh, she was holding it in. Her voice betrayed no hint of laughter, though.

“You have a . . . bald spot . . . on the back of your head . . .”

Luke dropped everything. He rubbed the back of his head, only to find it was true. He wanted to show Tear his resolve, but . . .!

Aw, damn.