"Take the mask off, Inosuke."

"Hell no!"

"We do this twice a year. I'm not doing a back & forth with you again."

Scalp checks, eye exams, & yearly physicals were the bane of your existence. & By the reaction to your friend's persistence, you assumed they were the bane of his as well. His insufferable & unbearable thrashing during any experience that required for him to sit still for more than two minutes was immeasurable, & childish.

You couldn't get it wrong, you loved the arrogant son of a bitch.

But he had a talent for pushing you past your needed limits.

Inosuke tinkered with some of the equipment sprawled out on your mahogany desk. The silk table runner, the sheets of stained paper, the pen & quill besides your now-cold, porcelain cup of sunflower tea,

"It's the same stuff that's always there, Hashibira. You don't need to be touching anything." You reminded.

Inosuke, alas, removed the carcass of a mask from his scalp, the office being too humid, & scented with oils of floral steam. The scent of lavender & hibiscus mixing with the rotting cartilage of the mask was not a pleasant smell for his adapted & feminine nose.

"Sit still. Sooner you let me finish, the sooner you can head to the cantene for dinner." You reminded, patiently.

Inosuke had a developed respect for a large majority of the corps. nurses. He wasn't rationally obedient, but he certainly lacked a defying negate to everything, & anything they said.

The boy's hair was greasy, as you had rationally expected. You slid your cotton-cloth gloves on, & gathered the dropper of coconut oil, & the small, wire pick.

"Don't you touch me with that thing!" Inosuke demanded.

"Uh huh." Was all you were inclinded to agree with. You pushed your foot against the wooden pump to the stool he sat in, & jerked his chair up a bit higher to reach a comfortable bend for you.

Cautiously, you draped the oil along his roots. Pulling his thick locks of hair out of the way, as you ran the pick-comb through his dandruff-bound hair. "Your scalps dry." You noted.