When Kyuhyun and his mother walked into the barber shop on a foggy spring morning, the two found the barber busily working on a customer. Ryeowook was standing on his step stool, very close to where his father was cutting the customer’s hair. He seemed to be more talkative than usual, animatedly chattering up a storm. Unusually, neither of the Kims reacted to the Chos' entry into the barber shop. 

Mrs. Cho took off her light jacket and made herself comfortable in the waiting area. 

“Kyuhyunnie, go inform Mr. Kim and Ryeowookie that we’re here. It’s weird that they didn’t acknowledge us; they’re usually quite good with that.” 

The boy set off towards the barber chair without a word, intending to pick on Ryeowook for not greeting them promptly. But as he approached the father-son duo, he noticed that his friend’s voice was different than usual. It wasn’t excited, but sounded frantic and upset. As he got closer, he saw that Ryeowook kept on reaching for his father’s dominant hand - as if afraid the scissors were going to fall at any moment. Lastly, he saw the bandage that covered the man’s hand. Kyuhyun grew worried. 

“What happened?” 

Ryeowook turned around and upon seeing Kyuhyun, he hopped off his stool and ran to his friend, jumping on him and hugging him tight. 

“Kyu, it’s horrible! Appa’s hand! Appa hurt his hand! And he won’t stop cutting hair,” he said, not letting go. 

“Eh? Mister, you hurt your hand? What happened?” asked Kyuhyun, concerned. 

The barber laughed sheepishly. 

“It’s not that bad actually, Ryeowook is just being dramatic as usual.” 

“The doctor said you have to rest it or you’re going to hurt it more! But you’re not resting!” Ryeowook complained. He was still attached to Kyuhyun, arms encircled around his friend’s neck. 

“Ryeowook-ah, why don’t you go play with Kyuhyunnie while I finish up with Mr. Son here?” asked the barber in an attempt to distract his son. 

“No!” the boy yelled. He jumped back onto his step stool and continued trying to ‘help’ his father, tugging on his hurt wrist and getting in the way. 

Seeing the barber’s harassed expression, Mrs. Cho, who had worriedly followed her son to the barber chair area after hearing Ryeowook’s alarmed voice, authoritatively ordered: 

“Kyuhyun. Ryeowook. Let’s go to the waiting area. Now.” 

“But-“ 

“No, ‘buts’ Ryeowook-ah, we’re going to the waiting area.” 

The boy whined, but followed the woman to the waiting area, his head hanging low, blinking back tears. Kyuhyun followed behind them, patting Ryeowook’s back as they walked. 

The trio settled in the waiting area, with Ryeowook sandwiched in between the two Chos. Mrs. Cho gently wrapped an arm around Ryeowook then began speaking with him in a soothing, motherly voice.

“So Ryeowookie, what happened to your appa? Did he cut himself?” 

“No, you see, a couple months ago, appa was showing me a special way to cut hair and I kept on asking appa to show it to me again and again and I still couldn’t figure it out and then we took a break and appa was cutting my hair and then suddenly appa said ‘ow’ and dropped the scissors and he was holding his wrist and-“ 

“Breathe,” Kyuhyun interjected, shaking his head. 

The boy took a deep breath then continued on: 

“Appa finished cutting my hair but he was holding his wrist after and umma put ice on it. It was okay for a little bit after but then it started bothering appa more and more and now he can’t hold the scissors unless he has the bandage on. And he went to the doctor and the doctor said that he has the carpet thunder sickness and that he has to rest his wrist or it’s going to get worse and he won’t be able to use his hand to cut hair! It’s all my fault! What's going to happen to the barber shop?!” Ryeowook finished, gasping, tears now falling freely down his cheeks. 

Mrs. Cho hugged Ryeowook as he cried, trying to soothe the distraught boy. Kyuhyun, on the other hand, took a more direct approach. 

“Dumb dumb-ah.” 

“Eh?” Ryeowook said through his tears. 

“You’re a dumb dumb.” 

“Kyuhyun,” Mrs. Cho chastised quietly. He ignored her. 

“Dumb dumb, your appa is a barber. He always cuts hair! So how is cutting hair once with you supposed to hurt him like that? That’s why you’re a dumb dumb.” 

Ryeowook scowled. 

“Actually, Kyuhyun is correct, Ryeowookie,” Mrs. Cho explained. “Your appa has something called carpal tunnel syndrome. It happens when someone uses their wrist very often over a long time, like your appa does when cutting hair.” 

“But then what happens after?” asked the boy. 

“Hm?” 

“What happens if appa doesn’t rest and keeps on cutting hair?” 

Mrs. Cho hummed. 

“It could get worse. I know one of my co-workers had it. She didn’t rest it and it got worse. But then later she took a vacation and relaxed and it got better.” 

“So… so appa should take a vacation?” 

The woman laughed heartily.

“Ryeowookie, we all need a vacation. But for your father, I don’t know. He’s going to have to find a way to rest his arm for a while and not cut hair.” 

“I know! Maybe I’ll become head barber!” Ryeowook proclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement. 

Kyuhyun guffawed.

“Shrimpy, you’re good at picking hairstyles, but you’re 12 years old.” 

“Yes, I know, Kyuhyunnie. I’m an adult now.” He stood up and clenched his fists, looking determined. 

The Chos exchanged a glance. 

“Ryeowookie, I don’t think labour laws will allow you to become head barber at your age,” said Mrs. Cho, figuring that any normal explanation will not work against the stubborn boy. 

Upon hearing that, Ryeowook deflated like a balloon, his knees giving out, and he sank onto the floor, utterly dejected. Tears had started falling from his eyes once more as desperation overtook him. 

“But I don’t want appa to get hurt! I love appa!” 

Kyuhyun looked to his mother, silently appealing her for help. She nodded back, eyes tender as she watched the crying boy. She got up and crouched down beside Ryeowook. 

“Ryeowookie, maybe your appa needs some time to think about what to do. He might be working on a plan for the future.” 

“But he should be resting now. I was trying to help him!” 

“Ah, is that why you were standing by your appa when he was cutting that man’s hair?” 

The boy nodded, embarrassed. 

Mrs. Cho deliberated for several seconds then said: 

“Maybe you can help in a different way?” 

“Eh?”

“Maybe your appa needs some other kind of help for now? Like cleaning up after customers, taking deliveries, keeping other kids entertained? Or even helping out around the house?” 

“But- but what about when appa is cutting hair?” 

“Well, it might be easier for your appa to cut hair comfortably and safely by himself. Then he can concentrate. If he has to constantly dodge your hands, then he may hurt himself more accidentally, don’t you think?” 

Ryeowook’s jaw dropped. 

“I never thought about that!” He jumped up and ran off. 

“Shrimpy, where are you going!?” Kyuhyun called out as he ran after him. 

Mrs. Cho groaned and stood up, following the two boys. She found Ryeowook hugging his father’s abdomen, apologizing loudly and profusely for interfering with work. The barber, who was behind the cash counter having just finished up with his last customer, looked incredibly confused. He glanced at Mrs. Cho, sending her a questioning look. 

“Well I-“ 

“Appa, Mrs. Cho said that I hurt you because I was getting in the way! You couldn’t concentrate!” 

“No, don’t worry you were-” He stopped himself, realizing the positives from the excuse, then knelt down so he was face-to-face with his son and adopted an apologetic look. “Well, Ryeowook-ah, it’s okay. I know you were trying to help. You’re such a good boy.” He ruffled his son’s hair and held him close, mouthing a silent ‘thanks’ to Mrs. Cho. 

“Appa, I’m going to help around the store now,” the boy declared. 

“Thank you, Ryeowookie.” Mr. Kim lightly patted his son’s back a couple of times, then let go, turning to Mrs. Cho. “Haircut for your son?” he asked. 

“Yes. I’m excited to see what your son comes up with this time!” 

“Ryeowookie, did you make a sketch for my haircut again?” Kyuhyun asked. 

Ryeowook blinked. 

“I...didn’t.” He ran over to his friend, hugging him. “I’m sorry Kyuhyunnie. I was helping appa!” 

Kyuhyun was taken aback by the sudden hug. He stiffened, awkwardly placing his arms around the emotional boy, patting him on the back. 

“Don’t worry, Ryeowookie, I can just get a trim today. I love my Luffy hair!” he said comfortingly. 

Ryeowook accompanied Kyuhyun to an empty barber chair and sat him down. He then wrapped the barber gown around Kyuhyun's neck and set up the barber side-table, moving confidently as if he were a professional barber. 

“Later, Kyuhyunnie, when I grow up, I’ll cut your hair. But today, I’ll help appa any way I can!” 

Mr. Kim’s head whipped around, worried about the meaning behind Ryeowook's declaration. Kyuhyun understood the hidden intention as well. He gulped, nervous about what he was going to hear. 

“W- wait, Ryeowook-ah, what about singing? You’re going to be a singer, right? Like you promised?” 

Ryeowook avoided his eyes, staying quiet. 

“Ryeowook-ah?!” 

The boy walked off, pretending to tidy up here and there, blatantly ignoring Kyuhyun. 

Kyuhyun tried getting out of his seat, but Mr. Kim placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping him where he was. 

“But Mr. Kim, Ryeowook-“ 

“It’s okay, Kyuhyunnie. Ryeowookie just needs some time. I’ll talk to him,” said Mr. Kim, worry and exhaustion both present in his voice. 

“But Mister, what if- what if he doesn’t become a singer? He promised!” The boy's eyes were wide and fearful, panic rising in his voice.

The barber patted Kyuhyun’s head in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture, but the troubled expression on his face belied the sentiment. He didn’t like the way things were developing either. He took a deep breath then threaded his fingers through Kyuhyun’s hair, assessing it, trying to look the part of a casual, unaffected barber for Kyuhyun's sake. 

“I don’t know what he’s going to do now,” he said expressionlessly, "...but my son is so tenacious that it might be hard to change his mind right at this moment, especially when he’s being like this. We’ll give him some time to calm down, okay?” 

Kyuhyun nodded tentatively, clearly unhappy, and muttered a quiet ‘yes’. He then lapsed into sullen silence. Any following questions posed to him during his hair cut were responded with an irritated nod or quick shake of his head. Instead, the boy’s eyes were fixed on Ryeowook in the mirror, who was puttering around the barber shop, keeping himself busy with small meaningless tasks, pretending like Kyuhyun wasn't there. 

When Mrs. Cho was paying for Kyuhyun’s trim a quarter of an hour later, she noticed the barber's frequent sighs and occasional worried glances towards his son. 

“I hope your wrist will get better soon," she said, trying to cheer the man up. 

Mr. Kim sent her a weak smile. 

“Yes, well, I hope so too. I… I don’t want my wrist to be the reason behind my son’s decision to give up his lifelong dream of becoming a singer. I’d rather Ryeowook followed his dreams and become a charming singer on TV, like he’s always wanted.” He sighed once more, watching Ryeowook sweep away hair with a singular determination. “If I knew something like this was going to happen, I would have kept it a secret, even if I damaged my wrist more in the long-term. Ryeowook’s happiness is more important to me than anything.” 

Mrs. Cho paused, unsure what to say. 

“You know," she began hesitantly, "Although my husband has his concerns about coming here, the reason that he continues to do so is because Kyuhyun really likes being here with you and Ryeowook. I’m sure that your current situation is affecting my son very much.” They both turned their gazes towards Kyuhyun, who was silently shadowing Ryeowook, his expression morose. Ryeowook kept on sweeping, still ignoring his friend’s presence. 

Mrs. Cho sighed. 

“Even though Kyuhyunnie doesn’t show it often, he’s very affected by your son. After every haircut he brags almost constantly to everyone he sees at home or school. That time, when… when my husband wasn’t bringing Kyuhyun here, Kyuhyun was quite agitated. He got very addicted to playing games and would loudly practice his singing to annoy my husband. We banned him from games after and he got so angry at us, even started yelling at us – at that age! We always knew that he was a rambunctious kid, but the effect that your son has on him – whether good or bad – is enormous.” 

The barber smiled gently, eyes crinkling. 

“Ryeowook is the same. He’s always going on about Kyuhyun this, Kyuhyun that – whether it be about music or games or other things. They’re surprisingly close for boys that only meet about twice a year, don’t you think?” 

Mrs. Cho chuckled and nodded in agreement. 

“For our sake, I hope Ryeowookie comes around soon. Kyuhyun won’t be himself until he’s sure that your son is all right. And you, of course. You’re his favourite barber, after all.” She tipped her head towards the barber. “But regardless, we will probably visit more often than we usually do until you’re better - to check up on your family and make sure you’re okay,” she said, smiling warmheartedly. 

The barber responded in kind, touched. 

“Thanks for thinking about us. I’m not sure what I’ll do yet; my wife and I need to think about it. I may have to turn over the barber shop to someone else for a time.” 

“That sounds like a good idea. Also, maybe you should follow your son’s advice and take a vacation.” Mrs. Cho said, winking. 

“That actually sounds like a great idea. We haven’t had a family vacation in a while,” he said, a faraway look in his eye. “Maybe we can go to Jeju or Busan.” 

The woman roared with laughter. 

“Good for you! Have a great rest!” She patted the barber on the shoulder then turned around. “Kyuhyunnie, let’s go!” 

The boy shivered as if he was pulled out of a reverie, still quietly lurking behind Ryeowook. 

“Do we have to umma?” He asked gloomily, his voice pleading. 

“Yes, we’re going. We’ll come back another day, okay?” 

Kyuhyun shook his head sadly, expression downcast, feet firmly rooted to the floor. 

Mr. Kim smiled sorrowfully as he saw the expression on the boy’s face, almost exactly mirroring the swirl of emotions within him. He pulled out a scrap piece of paper from a counter shelf, wrote something down, then walked over to Kyuhyun. 

“Here, Kyuhyunnie.” He gave the boy the paper. “This is our personal home phone number. Call in a couple days and by then, maybe Ryeowook will have calmed down enough to talk to you properly, okay? But make sure to only do it when your appa isn't around,” he whispered.

Kyuhyun took the piece of paper from his the barber, lips pressed together in a thin line as he looked down at the number scrawled across. He nodded back at the barber, a determined gleam in his eyes then walked over to Ryeowook, thumping him on his back. He whispered a few words in the boy’s ear, then nodded grimly before he left the store behind his mother, his hand firmly clutching onto the piece of paper.