41. The Secret of Hair
But the only person who seemed to be going crazy was Diarin.
“Aha, I get the general feeling. This oil feels similar, doesn’t it?”
The masseuse listened to Ceres' expression seriously without even smiling, then brought out another oil and applied it, asking.
…...So, do you agree with that expression? Really? Seriously?
But the masseuse was too busy dealing with Ceres to hear Diarin's heartfelt cries.
She felt particularly lonely today.
Ceres watched the masseuse's new oil for a moment, then nodded.
“Similar, but different. It’s the feeling you get when water droplets form on the ends of your hair after it’s half-dried.”
"Oh, right. That's right. It feels a little dry when you apply it, but it leaves a lot more moisture afterward. So you've noticed this, Master. So which one do you prefer?"
Despite Diarin's complaints, the consultation proceeded seriously.
Ceres, who learned how to express himself, expressed his opinions without hesitation.
“I don’t like this.”
“Oh, you don’t like this. What do you dislike about it?”
“The smell of blood is mixed with the smell of iron that has been soaked in incense.”
"Oh, that's right. It might feel that way because it contains a lot of iron. So, try to avoid this kind of thing as much as possible..."
Although the metaphors were mind-boggling, the expressions were quite accurate.
Diarin, who had been clutching her head at the expression that was half lament and half murderous, blinked and raised her head.
The masseuse listened intently to Ceres' words and adjusted various things according to his words.
Whatever expressions were used, the communication needed to be accurate.
“How about this?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Yes, I understand. Then this is weaker than the one before.”
“Yes, then there are things like this too...”
There were still no pretty words or expressions, but the masseuse who heard them didn't seem to mind at all.
'Oh.'
Of course, most of the young gentlemen in high society will be hiding poison in their sweet words.
But whether he hides his stinger or his poisoned arrow, Ceres is a strong man, like a shield of steel.
Is there any need to worry?
If you're not going to spend your whole life partying and hanging out in high society, why not just be a shameless young gentleman?
'It's not like there aren't any young masters like that.'
The 'utopia' of gentlemen that many women dream of is simply one of affection and good manners.
‘...Was it my greed?’
Diarin was shocked.
Since she already have a puppy, she wanted to raise it well so that it would be loved and live well wherever it goes.
After all, it was a dog that lived as a military dog.
No matter how hard she tried, he couldn't become a naturally affectionate small dog.
'I see... There is no young master who would say, 'Would you like to dance, my beautiful lady, like a flower?' with a smile that makes your back look like a flower garden in full bloom...'
Diarin bitterly accepted the reality.
True guidance would be to acknowledge our child's limitations and guide them in a direction that suits their aptitude.
Personally, she couldn't help but feel regretful.
Diarin's taste was for a handsome man who was affectionate, charming, and gorgeous.
Ceres, who had begun to be touched by people in earnest, changed day by day.
To exaggerate a bit, if you close your eyes for a moment and open them again, there will be another shiny spot added.
If you close your eyes for a day and open them, you won't be able to recognize him.
“These are custom-made scissors. Would you like to take a look?”
The hairdresser proudly took out a pair of scissors in front of Ceres.
During that time, he was putting off work because he couldn't take out a knife or scissors in front of Ceres.
The day has finally come to fix Ceres's hair, which was becoming a nice magpie nest, as he couldn't cut it even though he was taking care of it.
Ceres carefully examined the scissors.
"Yes."
There are days, but they look so different that you can't even tell they're scissors.
At least it looked like it would be faster to throw it at someone than to harm them by hand.
He managed to make all this happen.
As expected, when you're in a hurry, you find an answer somehow.
“Thank you! Then I’ll get right into organizing your hair.”
The hairdresser stroked Ceres's hair, delighted at finally receiving the passing grade.
Diarin also watched with expectant eyes.
Now all we have to do is trim his hair, and everything will be perfect.
He already had a wonderful appearance, but how much more perfect could he become?
The hairdresser's expectations exceeded Diarin's.
'It's finally today!'
Ceres was a young master whose personality was dirty, but whose looks could not be denied.
The young master's appearance was as unkempt as his personality.
He wasn't a gentleman, but a wild dog that had been rolling around in the fields (Surprisingly, that's correct. Human intuition is surprisingly accurate).
He used to wonder why he lived like that with that face, but after she realized that it was because of his dirty personality, he started to have a sense of purpose.
He'll try to tame that hair somehow with his own hands.
Today was finally the day to see the results.
“Why are you doing that?”
But the hairdresser had been staring at Ceres for several minutes, holding a strand of his hair.
"What's the problem?" asked Diarin.
“Should I cut this or not? I’m really struggling with the decision.”
“...What’s different?”
"It's different! It's so different! See? If I don't cut it, the eyes are slightly covered, giving them a melancholic look. But if I cut it, the eyes are revealed, emphasizing the pupils. They become intense and sharp. What a difference that little bit makes!"
Diarin looked at him seriously.
I don't know.
“...”
“How could you not recognize this!”
The hairdresser beat his chest in frustration at not being understood.
“Then... if we’re going to do it, let’s do it in a way that looks nice...”
The choice was between something wet and something sharp, but Diarin asked for a third option just in case.
The hairdresser was set on a new order.
“I’ll try... but.”
He was a hairdresser who boasted that anyone in the world could become anything if they had the magic of hair.
But no matter what, there are limits to human beings.
Wouldn't it take a level of divine power to make Ceres look good?
But hisprofessional pride wouldn't let him give up.
“But since you have a smooth, clean image without a beard, I think it’ll be fine...”
The hairdresser kept laying the foundation while working.
“...Oh, I see. You don’t have a beard?”
Diarin herself was not a man, so she had not cared until now.
Come to think of it, she hasn't seen Ceres shave his beard since she came to this mansion.
She taught him how to wash his face and brush his teeth, so he's doing well, but she didn't teach him how to shave his beard.
There is no way that a person who couldn't even bathe properly before being taught how to do so would risk his life to shave his beard.
Ceres' chin has been smooth from the beginning until now, without a single hair mark.
“Are you the type of person who doesn’t grow a beard?”
She never heard of such a constitution, but she can't help but think so.
Surely he's not so young that he doesn't grow a beard.
“Didn’t you get a procedure to prevent beard growth?”
“Is there such a procedure?”
A priest is a profession that has nothing to do with appearance management.
Rumor has it that there are all sorts of cosmetic procedures like skin whitening, lip reddening, etc., but she's never actually experienced or seen any of them.
“Yes, there are. Some people get it because they don’t want to bother shaving, and others don’t want the bluish residue left on their skin.”
"Ah..."
Diarin just nodded in wonder.
“Didn’t you also dye your hair?”
“Hair?”
"Yes, it's difficult for hair to naturally grow so dark that it absorbs light. That's why I assumed you had it done from the moment I first saw you."
Ceres had that kind of hair from the first time she met him.
Since she couldn't answer, Darin naturally looked at Ceres.
“The beard was shaved uniformly for cleanliness, and I don’t know about the hair.”
“Huh? Are you doing it...? Where...?”
Ceres answered the question too honestly.
“You mean you removed all the beards! All at once! All at once!”
It is not revealed to the people in this mansion that Ceres was a member of the 8th Division.
If this were to become known, the lives of these people could be put at risk.
Diarin hurriedly intervened and took care of the situation.
The manager just said, “Oh, yeah,” and moved on, even though he didn’t know if that was the right thing to do.
There must be some deep reason behind it.
There is no good in interfering with the private lives of nobles.
"Anyway, I've heard that once you get your hair color done, it's difficult to change. It costs a lot of money, and you never know if it'll work... especially if it's dark."
“Ah... I see.”
Perhaps because it was his area of expertise, the hairdresser told her things she hadn't even asked about.
From those words, Diarin got a hint.
'It was hair.'
But the only person who seemed to be going crazy was Diarin.
“Aha, I get the general feeling. This oil feels similar, doesn’t it?”
The masseuse listened to Ceres' expression seriously without even smiling, then brought out another oil and applied it, asking.
…...So, do you agree with that expression? Really? Seriously?
But the masseuse was too busy dealing with Ceres to hear Diarin's heartfelt cries.
She felt particularly lonely today.
Ceres watched the masseuse's new oil for a moment, then nodded.
“Similar, but different. It’s the feeling you get when water droplets form on the ends of your hair after it’s half-dried.”
"Oh, right. That's right. It feels a little dry when you apply it, but it leaves a lot more moisture afterward. So you've noticed this, Master. So which one do you prefer?"
Despite Diarin's complaints, the consultation proceeded seriously.
Ceres, who learned how to express himself, expressed his opinions without hesitation.
“I don’t like this.”
“Oh, you don’t like this. What do you dislike about it?”
“The smell of blood is mixed with the smell of iron that has been soaked in incense.”
"Oh, that's right. It might feel that way because it contains a lot of iron. So, try to avoid this kind of thing as much as possible..."
Although the metaphors were mind-boggling, the expressions were quite accurate.
Diarin, who had been clutching her head at the expression that was half lament and half murderous, blinked and raised her head.
The masseuse listened intently to Ceres' words and adjusted various things according to his words.
Whatever expressions were used, the communication needed to be accurate.
“How about this?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Yes, I understand. Then this is weaker than the one before.”
"Don't like it. Again."
There were still no pretty words or expressions, but the masseuse who heard them didn't seem to mind at all.
'Oh.'
Diarin realized there was an error in her perception of the young master.
Why must the young master always use such flowery language?
But whether he hides his stinger or his poisoned arrow, Ceres is a strong man, like a shield of steel.
Is there any need to worry?
If you're not going to spend your whole life partying and hanging out in high society, why not just be a shameless young gentleman?
'It's not like there aren't any young masters like that.'
The truth is, most young masters are all jerks.
‘...Was it my greed?’
Diarin was shocked.
Since she already have a puppy, she wanted to raise it well so that it would be loved and live well wherever it goes.
After all, it was a dog that lived as a military dog.
No matter how hard she tried, he couldn't become a naturally affectionate small dog.
'I see... There is no young master who would say, 'Would you like to dance, my beautiful lady, like a flower?' with a smile that makes your back look like a flower garden in full bloom...'
Diarin bitterly accepted the reality.
True guidance would be to acknowledge our child's limitations and guide them in a direction that suits their aptitude.
Personally, she couldn't help but feel regretful.
Diarin's taste was for a handsome man who was affectionate, charming, and gorgeous.
***
Ceres, who had begun to be touched by people in earnest, changed day by day.
To exaggerate a bit, if you close your eyes for a moment and open them again, there will be another shiny spot added.
If you close your eyes for a day and open them, you won't be able to recognize him.
“These are custom-made scissors. Would you like to take a look?”
The hairdresser proudly took out a pair of scissors in front of Ceres.
During that time, he was putting off work because he couldn't take out a knife or scissors in front of Ceres.
The day has finally come to fix Ceres's hair, which was becoming a nice magpie nest, as he couldn't cut it even though he was taking care of it.
Ceres carefully examined the scissors.
"Yes."
There are days, but they look so different that you can't even tell they're scissors.
At least it looked like it would be faster to throw it at someone than to harm them by hand.
He managed to make all this happen.
As expected, when you're in a hurry, you find an answer somehow.
“Thank you! Then I’ll get right into organizing your hair.”
The hairdresser stroked Ceres's hair, delighted at finally receiving the passing grade.
Diarin also watched with expectant eyes.
Now all we have to do is trim his hair, and everything will be perfect.
He already had a wonderful appearance, but how much more perfect could he become?
The hairdresser's expectations exceeded Diarin's.
'It's finally today!'
Ceres was a young master whose personality was dirty, but whose looks could not be denied.
The young master's appearance was as unkempt as his personality.
He wasn't a gentleman, but a wild dog that had been rolling around in the fields (Surprisingly, that's correct. Human intuition is surprisingly accurate).
He used to wonder why he lived like that with that face, but after she realized that it was because of his dirty personality, he started to have a sense of purpose.
He'll try to tame that hair somehow with his own hands.
Today was finally the day to see the results.
“Why are you doing that?”
But the hairdresser had been staring at Ceres for several minutes, holding a strand of his hair.
"What's the problem?" asked Diarin.
“Should I cut this or not? I’m really struggling with the decision.”
“...What’s different?”
"It's different! It's so different! See? If I don't cut it, the eyes are slightly covered, giving them a melancholic look. But if I cut it, the eyes are revealed, emphasizing the pupils. They become intense and sharp. What a difference that little bit makes!"
Diarin looked at him seriously.
I don't know.
“...”
“How could you not recognize this!”
The hairdresser beat his chest in frustration at not being understood.
“Then... if we’re going to do it, let’s do it in a way that looks nice...”
The choice was between something wet and something sharp, but Diarin asked for a third option just in case.
The hairdresser was set on a new order.
“I’ll try... but.”
He was a hairdresser who boasted that anyone in the world could become anything if they had the magic of hair.
But no matter what, there are limits to human beings.
Wouldn't it take a level of divine power to make Ceres look good?
But hisprofessional pride wouldn't let him give up.
“But since you have a smooth, clean image without a beard, I think it’ll be fine...”
The hairdresser kept laying the foundation while working.
“...Oh, I see. You don’t have a beard?”
Diarin herself was not a man, so she had not cared until now.
Come to think of it, she hasn't seen Ceres shave his beard since she came to this mansion.
She taught him how to wash his face and brush his teeth, so he's doing well, but she didn't teach him how to shave his beard.
There is no way that a person who couldn't even bathe properly before being taught how to do so would risk his life to shave his beard.
Ceres' chin has been smooth from the beginning until now, without a single hair mark.
“Are you the type of person who doesn’t grow a beard?”
She never heard of such a constitution, but she can't help but think so.
Surely he's not so young that he doesn't grow a beard.
“Didn’t you get a procedure to prevent beard growth?”
“Is there such a procedure?”
A priest is a profession that has nothing to do with appearance management.
Rumor has it that there are all sorts of cosmetic procedures like skin whitening, lip reddening, etc., but she's never actually experienced or seen any of them.
“Yes, there are. Some people get it because they don’t want to bother shaving, and others don’t want the bluish residue left on their skin.”
"Ah..."
Diarin just nodded in wonder.
“Didn’t you also dye your hair?”
“Hair?”
"Yes, it's difficult for hair to naturally grow so dark that it absorbs light. That's why I assumed you had it done from the moment I first saw you."
Ceres had that kind of hair from the first time she met him.
Since she couldn't answer, Darin naturally looked at Ceres.
“The beard was shaved uniformly for cleanliness, and I don’t know about the hair.”
“Huh? Are you doing it...? Where...?”
Ceres answered the question too honestly.
“You mean you removed all the beards! All at once! All at once!”
It is not revealed to the people in this mansion that Ceres was a member of the 8th Division.
If this were to become known, the lives of these people could be put at risk.
Diarin hurriedly intervened and took care of the situation.
The manager just said, “Oh, yeah,” and moved on, even though he didn’t know if that was the right thing to do.
There must be some deep reason behind it.
There is no good in interfering with the private lives of nobles.
"Anyway, I've heard that once you get your hair color done, it's difficult to change. It costs a lot of money, and you never know if it'll work... especially if it's dark."
“Ah... I see.”
Perhaps because it was his area of expertise, the hairdresser told her things she hadn't even asked about.
From those words, Diarin got a hint.
'It was hair.'
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