There was a long light hair in Kotone’s sink. It certainly didn’t belong there. Her roommate would wonder where it came from.
Kotone knew where it had come from, which was why she had to get rid of it. It, and any other sign of the person it had come from. She didn’t know the name of the woman. She knew a lot more about the texture of the woman’s skin, the color of her eyes, the strength of her grip and the long, light, strong strands of hair. It had shimmered like a platinum waterfall, as it had been dyed to look. As straight as an iron could create, glowing under the dim lights that had entered through the window in the middle of the night in a room of dark colors. The stark contrast of that hair against two sets of dark skin and the laughter brought forth when Kotone had tried not to lean on any of it as, flung back on the bed, it had gone everywhere.
Apparently even here, in her sink, likely sometime during the morning after. Kotone picked it up. It was dry. She wrapped it around her fingers.
She should have gotten the woman’s name.