Mai produced a peculiar key, one that shimmered with a faint light that matched her eyes. She slid it into the lock with a deft twist, and the door swung open with a squeak. "What is this place?" Si-Woo asked, his voice still shaking with the aftermath of fear and anger.

"It's my father's shop," she said, her voice softer than usual. "He was a hairstylist, but he's not here right now." She led him inside, and the familiar scents of shampoo and leather hit him like a warm embrace. The room was cluttered with antique chairs and mirrors, each one reflecting a different version of the same scene.

Si-Woo took a seat, his eyes still fixed on the floor. He felt a mix of relief and frustration. Relief that Mai had come to his rescue, and frustration that he had needed rescuing in the first place. His eyes stung with unshed tears, and he clenched his jaw to keep them at bay.

Mai, seemingly unfazed by the confrontation, began to talk about her plan to reopen the shop. Her words were like a gentle stream of water, washing away the tension that had built up in the air. "You know," she said, her voice filled with determination, "I think it's time I take over this place. My father's been too busy with his duties to give it the attention it deserves."

Si-Woo remained silent, still processing the encounter with the bullies and the sudden change in topic. He watched as she moved around the room, her movements fluid and graceful, even in the cluttered space.

Mai returned with a set of ancient-looking hair clippers, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just wait here for a second," she said, walking behind him.

"What are you doing?" Si-Woo's voice was tinged with alarm as he felt her fingers in his hair.

Mai held up the clippers, the metal gleaming under the soft light of the shop's pendant lights. "You need to take better care of yourself," she said, her smile teasing. "Let me just trim it a bit."

Si-Woo tensed at her touch, memories of his encounter with the bullies still fresh in his mind. "I thought you promised," he said abruptly, turning in his chair to face her. "I thought you promised to not get in the middle of my problems."

Mai's smile didn't waver as she held up the ancient-looking hair clippers. "What are you talking about?" she replied, her eyes dancing with mischief. "I just came to see if a friend wanted to hang out. Not my fault someone was in my way."

Si-Woo's shoulders relaxed a little, and he sighed. He knew she was just trying to lighten the mood. "Okay," he said, swiveling the chair back to face the mirror. "But if you mess up my hair, I'm never going to let you touch it again."

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Mai's laugh was light and airy, like the sound of chimes in a gentle breeze. "Don't worry," she said, her hands deftly working the clippers. "I know what I'm doing."

Si-Woo closed his eyes, feeling the gentle tug of his hair as it was trimmed away. The sound of the clippers was strangely soothing in the quiet shop, the only other noise was the occasional squeak of the chair as Mai adjusted her position. For a moment, he allowed himself to relax, to let go of the fear and anger that had been his constant companions since the assembly.

When she finally stepped back, Si-Woo cautiously looked up at the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, looking a bit more put-together than before. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the newfound shortness and the relief of no longer having to hide his face. "Thanks, I guess," he said, trying to keep the amazement out of his voice.

Mai smacked his shoulder playfully. "I guess?" she echoed, her voice filled with mock offense. "If I wouldn't have found you," she corrected herself quickly, "you would've been walking around Ondur looking like a spade wolf with a bird's nest on your head."

Si-Woo couldn't help but laugh, the tension in his chest dissipating like mist in the morning sun. "Thanks," he said, his voice sincere despite his attempts at nonchalance. He studied his reflection, noticing how the new haircut made his dark eyes appear more prominent, his face seemingly less guarded.

Mai's expression softened, her playfulness replaced with a sudden seriousness. "You're welcome," she said. "Anytime you need one, just ask. I'll always be here."

Si-Woo nodded, feeling a warmth spread through him that had nothing to do with the gentle warmth of the shop. "Mai," he began, his curiosity piqued. "Can I ask you something?"

Mai paused in her task, her eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Sure, what is it?"

Si-Woo took a deep breath, "I know you said your father was a hairstylist, but who is he exactly?"

Mai paused, her eyes flicking towards the window before she could answer. A hooded figure passed by, their presence seemingly innocuous, yet it caused a ripple of unease to wash over her. "I'm sorry Si-Woo but I have to go," she said frantically.

Si-Woo looked up, surprised by the sudden change in her demeanor. "What's wrong?" he asked, following her gaze to the window.

The figure was gone, but the air in the shop felt thick with tension. Mai's silver eyes searched his, a hint of fear flickering in their depths. "It's nothing," she said, her voice too high-pitched to be convincing. "I just remembered an errand I need to run."

"But..." Si-Woo began to protest, but she was already halfway out the door, the bell above it chiming a hasty goodbye. He felt a pang of disappointment, his curiosity about her father unfulfilled. He knew there was something she wasn't telling him, something important, but he had learned enough about Ondurian culture to know that pushing for answers was a delicate dance.

With a sigh, Si-Woo turned and stepped back into the bustling street. The cobblestones felt cold against his bare feet, too different from the warmth of the shop. The market was in full swing, with merchants shouting their wares and the cacophony of a hundred different voices weaving through the air.