A boy obsessed with cutting hair meets a girl cursed never to cut hers, and that impossible premise becomes the door to a murder game where weaponized trauma hunts them. The show builds gothic dread by treating scissors and hair as genuinely dangerous, as if Yana Toboso designed a killing game out of intimacy instead of spectacle. It moves too fast and explains almost nothing, which actually works because the vagueness makes every revelation feel like you're discovering a crime scene instead of being told a story. What matters is the atmosphere and the characters surviving it together, not coherence.
Kiri's obsession with cutting hair has always set him apart, but it becomes a twisted blessing when he encounters Iwai, a girl trapped by a family curse that prevents her hair from ever being cut. His scissors, the Crime Edge, prove to be the only tool capable of breaking her curse. Their connection awakens something far darker: a brutal competition between collectors of supernatural killing implements, each weapon bound to a cursed object designed for a single purpose. Iwai is their shared target. As the "Hair Queen," she exists at the center of an ancient murder game, and now Kiri must decide whether his unusual talent and these dangerous scissors can actually protect her. The challenge isn't just survival but understanding the twisted logic of a world where everyday objects become instruments of fate. Romance blooms in the spaces between violence and devotion as Kiri races against opponents wielding cursed blades, each one hunting for the same prize. Trust becomes their only real defense in a game where the rules were written long before either of them were born.