Goddamned fire techniques. They’d beaten the silly sorcerer to a pulp near enough straight away, of course, but not before he’d managed to send a large gust of flames right towards their face. They’re unharmed, thankfully, but their hair is not. It had been getting too long anyways, having grown just past their shoulders.

You seem rather sad about the choppy, uneven state of their beautiful, snow white locks, and so they’re sitting patiently, letting you try your best to fix the damage. They truly wouldn’t care what happened to their hair, they were happy to have it above their ears as they had in the Heian Era, but their love wants to salvage it and so they give in.

You’re snipping away at their hair, trying to shape it into something presentable. It’s a fairly easy fix, really. “Please, try your best not to chop my ears off, will you?” They say softly, teasing you just a little as they feel bits of hair fall down onto their shoulders.