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"Ouch-"
Kojiro hisses in pain as his body collides with the boiling asphalt, which probably absorbed the heat just so it could use it against him. His uncovered hands burn where they touch the ground and not for the first time, Kojiro thinks skipping class to skateboard at boil'o'clock in the afternoon was a shitty idea.
"Pathetic. I did my third flip already."
Kojiro scowls and lifts his (thankfully) untouched face to meet the eyes of none other than the bane of his existence, the thorn in his side, the stuff of his nightmares- Kaoru Sakurayashiki.
.....Who was also his best friend. Kojiro decides that the scorching heat gives him a proper excuse to be dramatic. It was the pink-haired boy's stubbornness that brought them here in the first place, panting and suffering in the heat.
All because he wanted to skate.
It's been about two weeks since he and Kaoru collectively agreed to take up skateboarding as a hobby. They cashed in and bought some simple boards, nothing extreme despite Kaoru's insistence. Kaoru put all his effort into their new activity, forcing Kojiro to buy him tons of skating magazines and such so he could pour over them. Kaoru was nerding out, and Kojiro was content to let him keep obsessing over skating as long as he was included.
And after being a skating veteran of fourteen days (and still counting), Kojiro has come to the conclusion that it hurts. A lot.
The first few days of practice were spent trying to balance on the damn boards instead of eating dust. After that came the simple push and stop movements. And then they progressively got less shy, and began to treat their skate boards as an extension of themselves. Sure, him and Kaoru bumped and bruised almost every part of themselves, but it was worth it for the exhilarating thrill that came with skating.
Kojiro can't believe he's gone this long without skating. Now that he's had a taste, he couldn't get enough.
The same was to be said for Kaoru, who worked on himself and his skating skills with frightening dedication. And the bastard couldn't bear to see Kojiro enjoying life blissfully, so Kaoru drags him along to his freakily tiring "practice sessions", knowing full well that Kojiro prefers to skate more leisurely.
That's why they're here now. Because Mister Fussy doesn't want to skate in the evening after school like a normal person, claiming the other skaters irritate him.
Kojiro hauls himself up and dusts his school jacket down. Kaoru sniffs disapprovingly at his filthy shirt, but doesn't comment because of the hypocrisy - the prim and proper boy was also scratched and dirty, the white on his shirt stained brown. One of his piercings was unclasped, and the bandage on his right wrist was coming undone. Kojiro had been there when Kaoru landed on it too roughly, being the one to patch him up with a few reprimands.
The other boy crouches down and scrutinizes Kojiro's board, fiddling with a wheel that probably shouldn't look that wonky.
"Good job, Gorilla", He gives the irregular wheel a little push. "You broke the skateboard."
But Kojiro's attention was diverted by a much more pressing issue.
"Your hair."
Kaoru gives him an un-impressed look.
"Yes, Kojiro, I have hair. I'm so glad it only took a few years of friendship for your tiny brain to realise I'm not bald", He says dryly but his hands instinctively reach for his cherry hair. His face contorts in pain when his injured hand comes in contact with his scalp and he stops mid-motion. "What about it?"
Kaoru was something of a delinquent, with his numerous piercings and, not to mention, his newest hobby. But one unshakable fact about the boy was that no matter the circumstance, whether rain or shine, his hair must and will remain perfectly preened.
But after a while of tumbling around, his hair was untamed, flowing down like rivulets onto his shoulders. A hairband was holding on for dear life, failing to achieve its purpose. His bangs were stuck onto his forehead, slick with sweat and the rest of his hair was flopping onto his face in a way Kojiro was sure was probably blinding his vision. Kaoru seems unsettled by his staring and tries to tuck his hair behind his ears, only to wince again.
Kojiro bends down and after a small moment of hesitation, he slips his fingers into his friend's hair and pushes it behind his ears for him.
"It's so messy", Kojiro chuckles when he sees a red splotch forming on Kaoru's exposed neck. Tapping into his inner reserve of courage, he slots his fingers into pink-coloured hair, marvelling at its silky texture, and lets out a relieved breath when Kaoru doesn't immediately judo-flip him or something. He cards his fingers through it, his clumsy fingers doing its best to group all the hair into something that resembles a pony-tail. He pokes his tongue out in concentration, fumbling with the hair tie, and finally succeeds in tying Kaoru's hair up.
"Besides, you can't hide it from me, I already know you're bald. Everyone and their grandma can tell this is a wig-"
Kaoru breaks their brief moment of comradery and kicks his leg out at Kojiro with a loud snort, that escaped unchecked. Kojiro falls flat on his ass but manages to dodge and cackles at a pissed-off Kaoru.
"Stupid monkey, you think you're so funny-"
"You laughed, I heard you snort like a lil' pig."
"No, I did not.", Kaoru scrunches his nose and uses his non-dominant hand to awkwardly pat at his hair. Kojiro has many (like two) talents but none of those is hair-dressing. But this was just a temporary fix, Kaoru doesn't have to like it or anything. "I never gave you permission to touch my hair."
Kaoru's protest was weak, and Kojiro clocks it immediately. His lips quirk up when he realises that Kaoru is flustered. It makes him feel all fluttery inside, like a bunch of butterflies were doing flips inside his stomach.
"It's boiling out here, you dummy", Kojiro jerks his hand upwards at the sun for emphasis. "I saved you from evaporating."
"How kind of you Kojiro, saving me from turning into water vapour."
Even though the words are laced with enough sarcasm to put a man to shame, Kojiro's foolish heart soars. His fingers still have the ghost of Kaoru's velvety hair clinging to them and Kojiro wants to run a hand through them again. And again. And again, and again, and again, untill he learns the texture and feel by heart. He mentally chastises himself and pushes up on his feet, casually holding a hand out for Kaoru.
"Yeah, that's me, your knight in shining armour." Kaoru accepts his hand reluctantly, picking up Kojiro's skateboard with him. He shakes it a little, observing the wheel and tucks it under his armpit.
"We better do something about the wheel. Let's walk to that skateboard shop downtown", Kaoru orders and Kojiro in turn dips down to grab Kaoru's board before catching up to the other boy.
"And let's take the shortcut, I don't want anyone seeing me with this untidy hairstyle." But as the two boys set off, Kojiro can't help but think that Kaoru looks as beautiful as ever, even with the wonky ponytail.
___________________________________
Later, Kojiro goes home to open up YouTube and type in the words "Hairstyles".
Yes, he's aware of how pathetic he is. But Kaoru's wrist was hurt and Kojiro was eager to take on the responsibility of taming his hair. But for that, his skills need some work.
That night, he dreams of lovely long hair and sharp golden eyes.
___________________________________
Kojiro and Kaoru aren't touchy feely in a normal sense. They don't do hugs or tender gestures (much to Kojiro's disappointment). But they're locked in a dance of jabs and shoves and kicks, pressing their foreheads skin-to-skin when they're fighting or grabbing each other into a headlock to prove a point, wacking one another across the head. It's a game, one that Kojiro is familiar with. That's what they do, and it's normal, and Kojiro never asked for more.
But sometimes he finds himself getting greedy, wistfully staring at Kaoru's long, pale hands, wondering what would happen if he were to slot their hands together.
All the scenarios end with him getting his ass kicked by Kaoru.
So Kojiro needs to wrack his brain to come up with a believable excuse for him to gently caress Kaoru's hair. And so far, this is what he's come up with.
1) Kaoru's wrist is injured. It takes a lot of time for him to do his hair and Kojiro is more than happy to volunteer.
2) The heat has been crazy, so Kaoru leaving his hair down isn't an option either. Once again, Kojiro is selflessly willing to volunteer.
3) Kaoru's hair is so soft and pliant and Kojiro feels like he's petting a pink cloud and it would be extremely distressing for Kojiro if he never got to feel it again, so devastating that he might keel over and die. So Kaoru might feel sorry for him and let him play with his cherry locks.
Kojiro thinks this might be the most planning he's ever done for anything in his entire life. Anyway, the stage was set. Today, him and Kaoru were skating along the pavement, heading towards the skatepark. Kaoru's hair flies behind him, recapturing Kojiro's attention at every passing turn with how it swishes and flows.
He's tied it up in a looser hairstyle than usual, almost completely down but not quite there. They skate for a while. Kojiro tries his best to focus on the crunch of gravel beneath him and the gentle slap of the wind in his face. But his mind keeps jumping on a one-way train to Kaoru. Kaoru's hair, Kaoru's snippy comments, Kaoru's little wrinkle on his forehead. It's driving him insane.
He knows he's acting more weirder than usual, circling around like a starved vulture for a gap in their skating so he could offer to do Kaoru's hair. But whenever they do take a break, Kojiro starts sweating and jumbling up his words. It's like yesterday's supply of courage abandoned him and caught a flight to Italy.
To his immense disappointment, by the time Kojiro thought of what to say, the sun was sinking into the horizon, snatching away his excuse with it.
The duo catches their breath by the vending machine, Kaoru sitting crossed-legged by the steps while Kojiro leans his head against the cool metal wall of the vending machine. He curses his cowardice. Kaoru's hair was undone once again, and the boy seems to have given up trying to tame it. It was gently illuminated by the setting sun, and Kaoru looks like something straight out of an enchanting painting.
Kojiro jumps when Kaoru pauses in the middle of re-wrapping his injured wrists and shifts to face Kojiro with squinted eyes.
"Are you okay?", He clears his throat, obviously uncomfortable. Kojiro snickers when he realises how much Kaoru's ego is getting affected voicing his concern. But then he realises Kojiro must look pretty nervous if even Kaoru is worried. He waves his arm around, faux casually.
"Just thinking. Hey, how's your wrist?" Real smooth, he groans internally when Kaoru purses his lip at the strange deflection from the topic.
"It certainly needs time to heal, but it's not that bad. Shame it's my right hand though." He flicks his wrist with a flinch and Kojiro winces from proxy. "It affects my routine. Writing notes in class is a chore."
Kojiro snorts. "I guess you can't pick your nose anymore."
"You big buffoon, not all of us are degenerates like you", Kaoru shoots him a glare. Then, almost like an afterthought, he adds, "It's a pain to do my hair-"
"I CAN HELP", Kojiro has been waiting for this moment for hours. Like a deranged dude, he shoots up from his moping corner and splays his palms out wide. "My hands aren't injured, so I got this!"
Kaoru looks taken aback by his enthusiasm and gaps like a beached fish, his face pink. He schools his expression and rubs the bridge of his nose, his jaw tense. "Oh for the love of- fine, but if even one strand of hair is plucked out, I'll kill you."
Kojiro was expecting more of a fight, maybe a few flying miscellaneous objects. But luck seems to be on his side today, and he sure as hell wasn't complaining. Kojiro eagerly sits down beside Kaoru, hands unsurely floating beside him.
"Can I?"
"Do it before I change my mind."
"Alright, alright. Calm down, bossy boots", Kojiro wills his racing heart to calm down and awkwardly pats a clump of Kaoru's hair, the way someone might pet a rabid dog. A pretty pink one though. He immediately feels himself relax when his fingers come in contact with Kaoru's soft hair. Kojiro resists the urge to coo, and runs his hand through it a few times just to satisfy himself.
Kaoru's shoulders loosen and Kojiro repeats his gentle petting. He decides to do this thing called a "French braid" he saw in a video. It looked really cool, and Kojiro was sure Kaoru could rock the look. He divides Kaoru's hair into sections, relying on his memory.
"You're pulling too hard." Kaoru gripes at him, head tucked into his knees that were pulled close to his chest. He looks so at ease that Kojiro feels a strong burst of affection for his friend. "Hmph."
"You're so delicate, I'm not even yanking that hard." But Kojiro worriedly detaches his hands anyway, praying he didn't actually hurt Kaoru. The pink-haired boy swats at his elbow, gesturing at Kojiro to keep continuing his ministrations. After a few tedious minutes of separating and braiding and tucking, Kojiro chews his lip and woefully stares at his creation. 'I've created a monster', he thinks. Kaoru notices his lack of action and raises his eyebrows. So. It's not horrible, per see. Its just a teensy-weensy little messy.
"Ta da?" Kojiro can see Kaoru's face morph from anticipation to horror in the span of a few seconds. He pats at his hair and lets out a pretentious screech.
"Kojiro, you idiot, what have you done to my hair?"
Kojiro dons his most appealing smile and bats his eyelashes coyly at a pissy Kaoru.
"It's fine, it just needs..... A little work."
"A little?", Kaoru's hair now resembles a bird's nest. There's no way to sugarcoat this. Kojiro's less than perfect braiding skills made a giant,
knotted tangle right in the middle of Kaoru's hair. Kojiro grimaces as Kaoru tugs at his hair, his heart sinking into his stomach. He should have tried something easier, but now he's gone and made Kaoru mad. Now Kojiro will never get to touch Kaoru's hair ever again. He might not even be able to see it, because Kaoru will become paranoid enough to start wearing helmets whenever Kojiro's nearby to protect his hair.
Kojiro can see Kaoru observing him from the corner of his eye. The other boy lets out a long drawn-out sigh, and leans back, pushing his head back towards Kojiro's hands. Kojiro's brain short-circuits. "Huh?"
"You need more practice.", Kaoru says in lieu of a response and Kojiro can't stop blinking stupidly like an absolute idiot. He guides Kojiro's fingers into his hair once again, and blood rushes into Kojiro's face. "This time, let's start with something more simple."
"Wait, for real?", Kojiro frees one of his hands to pump it in celebration, a large grin breaking out on his face. "Hell yeah, I won't turn your hair into a nesting ground this time!"
Kojiro lovingly scratches at Kaoru's scalp and pretends not to hear the other boy grumble threats under his breath. And if Kojiro didn't know any better, he could've sworn that Kaoru had smiled then, soft and genuine.
___________________________________
The next day Kojiro wakes up before the sun, with the world fast asleep before him.
He gets to work, pulling out desired utensils. He tried to be as stealthy as possible but his mom wakes up because of the banging and smashing of cutlery. In the end, he's acquired a jab about ruining other's beauty sleep, a jab about his watery cookies and some assistance from his sleep-deprived mom. With additional jabs along the way.
He sets off to school with his carton of chocolate-crumble cookies that smell like heaven and taste like it too. He tells himself that this is not bribery.
Kaoru's leaning against the pillar outside school, glowering into traffic like it's done him personal wrong. He doesn't bother acknowledging Kojiro's presence but Kojiro notes the way the other boy lights up at the sight of his cookies.
Both boys march into school, Kojiro turning his nose up at Kaoru's unrelenting bullying in order to know the purpose of the cookies.
"It's for eating dumbass, what else are cookies for?"
"To shove up your ass, Kojiro, that's what. Today's nothing special, so why bring cookies?"
"Can't a man have a hobby?"
They had time to kill before class, so Kojiro and Kaoru find themselves wandering up to the rooftop. Kojiro plops down on the stairs opening into the terrace, while Kaoru eyes his cookies with barely repressed hunger. Kojiro pats the spot below him, gesturing Kaoru to take a seat. Kaoru remains stubbornly standing.
The wind blows in from the rooftop without permission, flaunting it's freedom. A strand of hair from Kaoru's sloppy bun sneaks out from its hold while the man in question scrunches his nose in annoyance. Kojiro finds himself spreading his knees, creating space for Kaoru without even being asked. Kaoru always managed to have that effect on him.
"C'mere',He ignores the way his voice cracks. "I'll do your hair."
Kaoru crosses his arms in his chest. "And let you ruin my hair like last time? Forget it Kojiro, you're never getting free reign again. Not even if you pay me. Besides, I did my hair perfectly, without any help. How dare you insinuate that-"
Kaoru's moving speech about self-sufficiency was cut short when the wind blows a clump of hair right into his mouth. Kojiro almost drops the cookie tin with how much he's cackling, watching Kaoru choke on his own hair.
"Not. a. word.", Kaoru makes a threatening gesture at him while Kojiro holds his hands up in mock fear.
"I never said you couldn't do it, I just wanna help", He shakes the carton of cookies and waggles his eyebrows mysteriously. "I'll throw in some cookies for you to eat while I work."
And that's how Kaoru ends up wedged between his legs, cookie carton securely hugged to his chest while he stuffs his face like a starving chipmunk. Kojiro's heart starts beating erratically and he slips his tanned fingers into Kaoru's soft hair. There's no need for this, since he's brought a comb this time, nicked from his mother's dressor. But there was something deeply intimate about being allowed to touch Kaoru's hair, and Kojiro gives himself five more minutes before inevitably having to wrench his hands away from pink paradise.
He parts and combs while Kaoru nibbles on his baked goods, brow furrowed as if liking Kojiro's cookies was an unforgivable crime.
"How are they?", Kojiro asks just for the sake of conversation, too engrossed in his task.
"It could use a little less sugar." Kojiro snorts, pausing his hair-dresser activities to poke Kaoru's puffed up cheeks. "Sure, you big-back. Insult my cookies while you chomp it all up."
"I don't want them to go to waste, I'm doing you a favour."
"You're the biggest liar I know.", Kojro tightens Kaoru's hair, trying it up according to his plan. The ring of the bell signals their return to class and Kojiro hauls his bag up, and picks Kaoru's up too before launching down the stairs, Kaoru hot on his trail.
He grins at himself as he enters the class, finding all his classmate's eyes on his best friend. Kaoru notices their prying eyes.
"What?", He lashes out like a provoked animal.
Kojiro can feel his facade crumble into dust and shoves his fist into his mouth, trying to block laughter from leaking.
A timid girl speaks out, her voice radiating obvious confusion. "I.... I like your new hairstyle Sakurayashiki."
Kojiro feels the ball drop and he explodes into peals of laughter while a horrified Kaoru pats at his hair, which lay fixed on his head in two high double ponytails, making him look like a grouchy schoolgirl.
"I'm going to kill you-" The entire class snickers and hoots at Kaoru while he pulls Kojiro close by the lapel of his jacket, an angry vein throbbing in his forehead. Kojiro is still getting attacked by bouts of laughter while Kaoru gives him a good shake, yelling insult after insult.
"You look so cute, it's like two palm trees on your head-"
Their math teacher walks in to find Kaoru strangling a hysterical Kojiro. The woman deserves a raise.
___________________________________
"Kaoru."
No response.
"Kaoruu."
Kojiro pauses and twists his head to glance at Kaoru. The pink haired boy was waiting on the couch, hair undone and face sulky. The TV was on, some weird show about dinosaurs playing in the background while Kaoru broods like a five year old.
"Stop pouting, I already said I'm sorry."
"I'm not pouting, you moron, I just don't want to talk to you."
"How was I supposed to know you hate pigtails? We never talk about these things."
"In what world would I want pigtails? I'm a seventeen year old man, not a child-"
Kojiro moves the chicken nuggets from the stove to the plate with a groan.
"You're acting like a child." He sinks down into the cushion and offers Kaoru the plate of nuggets as an apology. The boy wrinkles his nose, like a God who has been given an unworthy sacrifice. Yet he snatches it, far away from Kojiro's hands and has the audacity to lift his legs up to the couch and lean sideways, resting his head on the armrest. He kicks Kojiro on the arm, forcing Kojiro to fold into himself on the opposite corner.
"You're so greedy. First you take all my delicious chicken nuggets, and then you banish me to the end of the couch."
"I wouldn't say delicious, these are mediocre at best", Kaoru pops one into his mouth.
"Move your stingy ass." Kojiro protests and attempts to nudge Kaoru away while simultaneously trying to pull the plate of chicken nuggets closer.
This results in a vigorous shuffle that ends up with Kojiro's top half on the floor and his feet up Kaoru's nose.
"Hyuk- it's up my nose, get your feet away", Kaoru screeches with the elegance of a baboon and kicks right into his sweet spot. Kojiro muffles a yowl with his fists and jams his toes up higher into Kaoru's nostrils, grinning with vindictive pleasure,
"Stop it, you unhygienic monkey." With a final and forceful push, Kaoru knocks him down completely onto the floor.
"I hope your airway is jammed forever", Kojiro dodges Kaoru's air-missile-pillow with the ease and skill of someone who's been doing this for their entire life. His half-hearted threat has zero significance because he looks up to see Kaoru laughing.
Whenever Kaoru laughs, he laughs. Initially, his shoulders start to shake like a volcano about to explode and then once he starts, it ranges from adorable snorts to full-blown laughter. He always has tears in his eyes from the sheer force of his laughter, loud and unabashed. Kojiro can't help but feel entranced, unable to look away even if he tries. Not that he wants to.
"Shut up", The other boy's hair was wild, strewn around after their tussle. Kojiro had to squint to spot the molten gold eyes beneath a sea of pink.
"At least I know what to get for your next birthday, Kojiro."
That piqued Kojiro's attention and he perks up, scooting forward to rest his chin on the edge of the couch. "Oh? And what might that be?"
Kaoru composes himself and looks Kojiro straight in the eye. Kojiro feels blood rush to his face under Kaoru's unrelenting stare, and he lifts his hands to graze the ends of Kaoru's messy hair. He slips his fingers in, emboldened by the soft sigh emitted by the other boy, who tilts his head to give Kojiro better access. Only a little, but Kojiro has been studying Kaoru for years and not to toot his own horn, but he's an expert on Kaoru's micro-expressions. And Kaoru is definitely relaxing under his touch.
"Enjoying this, huh?", Kojiro croons and massages Kaoru's hair, rubbing the tips of his fingers against his scalp. Kaoru grumbles just for the sake of it and leans into his palms. "Now, what about my early birthday gift?"
Kaoru hums absentmindedly. "Right, I'm going to get you some really expensive feet cleanser-"
Kojiro takes back every single lyrical poetry he has waxed about Kaoru's hair. He disentangles his fingers and yanks Kaoru down from the regal throne that is the couch, with absolutely no remorse.
They both end up on the floor, Kojiro and Kaoru, snickering and teasing like little children.
Kojiro feels bad for the neglected (and probably cold) chicken nuggets, left forgotten on the sofa.
But as Kaoru lays his head on Kojiro's lap, pretending to be a little too engrossed in the TV show while allowing Kojiro to play with his cherry-pink hair, he can't help but feel stupidly glad that Kaoru's attention was all his.
___________________________________
The real tragedy happened a few weeks later.
Kaoru's wrist was almost fully healed, but he never complained when Kojiro tripped over his feet to play with his hair. In fact, he even welcomed it (welcomed as in allowed it with a minimum amount of threats and swears). Kojiro never asks him why he lets him, since there's no reason for Kojiro to keep doing Kaoru's hair. But Kaoru doesn't mention it and Kojiro doesn't either.
Then Kojiro slips and almost cracks his index finger into two.
This is embarrassing to admit, but it wasn't even a skateboarding accident. He'd been cooking and slipped while dancing his own crappy rendition of Micheal Jackson's 'Thriller'. Ouch.
Kaoru laughed himself silly when Kojiro told him. He's mortified for the rest of his life.
Now the tragedy in question is that Kojiro can't do Kaoru's hair anymore. He has to be gentle with his fingers or else he'll start feeling spikes shoot up to his head. Five star experience, he totally recommends it.
Yesterday he slipped his hand into cherry-tinted hair by accident and almost had a pain-induced stroke. He's definitely not sulking by the way.
"Stop sulking."
"I'm not." "After you're healed, you owe me a beef", Kaoru grins evilly from where he sits. They were at the skate park by force of habit since Kojiro's mother told him off by the ear about reckless incidents.
"It'll be good for my ego when I defeat the clumsy gorilla."
Kojiro huffs, kicking at dirt from where he sits. "As if you'd beat me. I'll just race in a place full of curves since you suck at those."
"One of these days I'm going to invest in an automatic skateboard.", Kaoru wrinkles his nose. "It'll calculate precisely how I need to make my move."
"Hah, that's cheating, dimwit. Just say you can't beat me on your own."
"I can and I will.", Kaoru's nostrils flare and Kojiro feels warm and jittery. He itches to get on his skateboard and prove Kaoru wrong.
"Isn't it funny how I get injured right after you did?"
"Indeed. It's a skateboarder's curse.", Kaoru replies solemnly. "Except you're the idiot who tripped on air -"
"Shut up.", Kojiro groans with no venom. Kaoru's sharp eyes twinkle with mirth and he looks so content, just sitting here. Kojiro feels content too. He closes his eyes and takes a slow, languid breath. Then jerks violently when he feels cool hands snake into his hair.
"Your hair looks like a dying racoon.", Kaoru hums as he runs his hand through Kojiro's hair. Through. Kojiro's. Hair.
"Huh", Kojiro replies eloquently. The world has never seen such poetry before.
Kaoru thin fingers massage his scalp and Kojiro feels the tension releasing from his shoulders. He ignores the warmth in his face and leans into Kaoru's hands. Damn, this feels awesome. He's been living in total darkness. Kaoru scratches at his head and he sighs. And then yelps when Kaoru jokingly pulls a strand of his green hair.
"Don't fall asleep on me now Kojiro, I'm still not done teasing you."
"Jackass-" Their little bonding moment ends up with Kaoru trying to wrestle Kojiro to the ground. As most things always do when they're concerned. There's nowhere Kojiro would rather be than here, laughing while decked in mud-stained shirts with his Kaoru.
He makes a mental note to grow his hair in the future so Kaoru does this more often.The hair caressing part, not the kicking his ass part. Only up to his shoulder length though, definitely not as long or extravagant as Kaoru's pink hair.
He'll leave the dramatics to his friend.
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