Elly carried another bucket of hot water to the curtain in the back of the cottage. Behind the heavy cloth barrier was their bathroom: a wooden wash tub, a couple of buckets and a bit of polished brass hung up on the wall as a mirror.
"Here's another," she called out. "You decent?"
Aizawa snorted. "Nothing showing," he answered.
She pulled the cloth back and sat on a small stool near the tub he was soaking in. "You ought to let me wash your hair, too," she told him as she poured the water in slowly. "I'll dry it as well, don't fuss. You won't catch cold or anything."
"If that's what you want."
"Really?" She peered around to look him in the eyes. "I've been trying for weeks! What changed your mind?"
He shifted, slinging one hairy leg up over the edge and dripping water on the floor. "You keep bugging me, woman," he huffed in a show of annoyance. "Maybe I just want some peace around here."
Elly rolled her eyes as she used the remainder of the water in her bucket to start rinsing his long, dark locks. "Just give me the soap, you grouch."
He handed her the thick bar and she lathered her hands up and started working her fingers on his scalp and through his hair. After a few minutes he began to relax and his heavy eyelids drooped. He dozed contentedly as she hummed an old song under her breath.
"Aizawa."
"Mnnfft?" He blinked his eyes open.
"Sleepyhead," she chided him gently. "You're going to wrinkle up if you stay in there too long. Dry off and put your clothes on. Then we can sit by the fire and I'll comb your hair out. Okay?"
"Yeah." He waited until she pulled the curtain back to get out of the tub and towel dry. He yanked a pair of black baggy trousers on and a shirt that had seen better days but was still serviceable. It stuck to his chest on his back where he couldn't reach to dry, and when he got up his trousers slid down a little and the shirt stuck up. As he walked back into the main room Elly saw the rough, circular scar on his lower back.
"Oooh." Her fingers reached out as if to touch it, but she thought better of it and jerked back at the last minute before he sat.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing. Your pants slipped." She laughed very softly. "Almost mooned me, you did."
"Shit." He cursed and yanked at the waist, tugging them tighter around his hips. "Not like you probably wouldn't see my scrawny ass eventually, living so close like we do. Sorry, though. I'll be more careful."
Elly rubbed the towel briskly through his hair, thinking hard. <i>How did he get that scar?</i> It was so oddly placed and such a strange shape. The one under his eye made more sense, but she'd never asked about that, either.
"Hey."
She jumped guiltily and set the damp cloth aside. "Yes?"
"Thanks." He sighed and leaned his head back to smile wearily at her. "You don't need to do this, you know."
"Sure I do. You've done so much for me."
His eyes clouded over momentarily. "You don't need to," he insisted. "If that's all this is about -"
"Stop squirming," Elly insisted, ignoring his protest and placing her free hand on his cheek. "I'll tear out all your beautiful hair at this rate!"
<i>Beautiful</i>? He sat very quietly after that for the good part of an hour while she combed and even tied it back for him. His mind kept replaying the same words over and over again.
<i>She said my hair is beautiful</i>?
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