I'm still alive, I swear! I haven't given up on this story, and I don't intend to! Anyway, I got the idea for this oneshot while styling a wig for my upcoming fake!Garry cosplay(that's right!).. so I hope you enjoy this bit of fluff. And of course, I apologize for the delay, as always!

Prompt Word #10: Hair

Science wasn't her best subject, but as Ib read through the basic topic of genetics, it only made her head hurt out of confusion. 'Genetics' was a word that Ib wasn't familiar with, so as always, she asked Garry what it meant—despite the book explaining it. She liked it better when he explained things to her.

He explained that they were traits, like hair an eye color, that were passed from parents to their children. As Ib continued to read her science book, she kept glancing up at Garry, narrowing her eyes in curiosity. Crimson orbs darted back to her book, but no matter how much she read—she even read the small words next to the pictures that she usually ignored—Ib could not find any hint of someone being born with two hair colors.

Was it possible that Garry's mom had lavender hair and Garry's dad had black hair? It didn't make any sense to her, and even though Ib read the entire chapter, she kept hastily reading the paragraphs trying to figure out some solution—something she had missed.

Ib kept staring back up at Garry, studying the curious black strands of his hair. She figured she could just ask but wasn't sure if that would be rude or not. Cobalt eyes suddenly were staring into her own, and Ib's heart jumped. She always got nervous when Garry caught her staring at him—but this time, it was for an entirely different reason.

"Something wrong, Ib?" Garry inquired. "Do you need help with your schoolwork?"

Ib looked back to her book, pressing her lips together in a firm line of contemplation. Supposing it was somewhat school-related, she hastily turned her head back to Garry. "Um... why is your hair two colors? My book doesn't say anything about that!"

Garry closed his eyes and chuckled, rubbing the top of his head, "you mean this? You won't find anything about this in your books, Ib. My hair is dyed."

Ib's eyes widened in horror. "It died?!" The brunette suddenly stood up from her seat on the floor and climbed up the couch to inspect the black strands closer. The more she stared at them, Ib found that they resembled whithered flowers or something like that. Garry threw up his hands defensively, urging her to calm down.

"No, no, Ib, not like that," he explained in a gentle voice. "I know it sounds the same, but the dying I'm referring to is kind of like a paint that won't wash out."

Ib blinked a few times, somewhat understanding what Garry had explained to her. Her eyes fell to her feet in embarrassment and soon her entire body collapsed to a sitting position on his couch. "Oh." Ib's response was simple, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she had looked incredibly foolish to Garry.

"Don't worry, Ib, it's alright," Garry assured her. When Ib looked up at him, he was giving her one of his best smiles, causing the corners of her lips to involuntarily turn upwards. "You don't see many people with dyed hair that often."

That was true. Garry was the only person she had ever seen with two hair colors. When Ib really thought about it, it was strange how such a thing was now brought to her attention. Of course, when they first met, Ib noticed those little black strands, but never even thought to question it, or wonder why it was so.

But now Ib was full of questions. She hugged her knees and curiously set her scarlet gaze upon the man. "Why did you color your hair? Did you not like it before?"

Garry had just withdrew a cigarette from behind his ear upon Ib announcing her question. He opted to set it aside for later and focus on answering the child's question, "it's not that I didn't like it. When I was younger, I just thought it'd make for a nice change." He chuckled slightly. "And I ended up sticking with it."

"I think it looks really cool!" Ib told him, a little bit too excitedly than she had meant. Garry nodded in thanks, and Ib put a hand over her mouth, contemplating her next question. "Do you think I could make my hair a different color?"

"Aha, you might want to wait until you're a bit older, Ib," Garry explained. "But I think your natural hair color suits you perfectly."

Ib's smile got a little wider, and blood rushed to her face. She always got a funny—but nice—feeling in her stomach when Garry made positive comments on her appearance.

Endless thank yous to the newcomers who've left reviews and to the oldies who have put up with me for so long. You guys are so amazing. Keep being amazing.