You could already tell it was going to be one of those days when you woke up. Kabuto was sitting on the floor in front of the bed with a worn hair tie in hand. Trying to put up his own unruly grey hair without a mirror.

Because on these days, he couldn't stand to see his own face.

These were delicate days. Days where you weren't sure what kind of Kabuto you'd be faced with when you got up. Such is the life of a shinobi with no true self. But these days had become fewer and far between since meeting you, like your presence had brought a little more peace to his mind. So, like any good girlfriend would, you quietly slipped out of bed and knelt beside him.

Kabuto fussed with the tie, the accessory worn to the point of ruin. His glasses were still on the dresser. You tipped your head to catch his attention. "There's your problem. Can't do a ponytail if you can't see."

"I'm not wearing them today," Kabuto said flatly. The subtle warning in his voice told you exactly what kind of day it was. A prickly day where Kabuto didn't want to see anything that reminded him of the woman he had called mother. The glasses Nono gave him would just have to stay on the dresser for now.