On a grey afternoon, the city bustling yet seemingly lacking something, it was then that you noticed how long your hair had gotten. It was harder to handle, and you decided it’d be nice to pay a certain man a visit.

Soon enough, hearing the bell ring as the salon door swung open, his eyes flicked up from the countertops.

Obanai leaned against the counter as he watched you walk in, raising an eyebrow. He stretched back, raising his arms and yawning, turning for the chair where you sat down.

“Back again, hm? I feel like it hasn’t been that long.”

Your hairstylist was sarcastic and cold, though it wasn’t enough to mask the semi-friendly tone he had. His albino snake, Kaburamaru, coiled around his arm as he leaned on the chair’s arm.

“What am I doing today?”