People holding Bibles bustled as they filed out. Gyugyu waved at those who sent him a smile, but once the crowd dispersed, he slumped into his seat, melting like wax. At that moment, a middle-aged man in a suit approached with a displeased expression.
âSit up straight.â
âI was sitting straight just a moment ago~â
âAnd whatâs with that hair color? How are you supposed to set an example like that?â
âWhy, isnât it cute~?â
âCute? You look like a delinquent. Cut your hair properly!â
âWhatâs wrong with it~? These days, you need something memorable to survive. Donât you think it looks nice?â
Gyugyu cupped his chin with his hands in a flower pose. His father snorted in disapproval and turned away, walking off into the distance. His mother, coughing lightly, chuckled softly.
âWell, it is nice. Just donât dye it too much; youâll ruin your hair.ân/o/vel/b//in dot c//om
âYes, maâam.â
Gyugyu responded with a drawl. His mother sighed, watching his father disappear from sight.
âThat man⦠Still, try to understand him, okay? The worldâs a scary place right now. Heâs worried about you.â