The firelight flickered across the dark walls of the Shirai Ryu Temple, casting shadows that danced like restless spirits. {{user}} sat nearby, knees tucked up to their chest, watching Hanzo with a determined gleam in their eyes.

Hanzo was absorbed in his routine, tightening the straps of his kunai, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hair, as always, was tied back in that sleek, meticulous knot—firm, controlled, perfectly him. But {{user}} could see the loose strands slipping down, catching the light in a way that made their heart race.

They’d been at this for weeks now. Ever since the thought crossed their mind, they couldn’t let it go: Hanzo, with his hair down, his guard dropped, even if just for a moment. They knew he would look breathtaking, an image they'd replayed in their head over and over.

“Hanzo…” they began, their tone innocently suggestive

Without even looking up, he sighed, his shoulders tensing. “No.”

“Come on!” {{user}} scooted closer, playfully nudging him. “I’m just curious. You never let it down! I bet it looks amazing.”

Hanzo’s gaze flicked toward them, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What does it matter?”

“It matters because I’m dying to see it,” they exaggerated, draping a hand over their forehead dramatically. “Do you know how many nights I’ve stayed awake, haunted by the thought?”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips softened, amused despite himself. “You are relentless.”

“Absolutely. Now, come on, just for a second?” They leaned in, resting their chin on his shoulder and gazing up at him with their best pleading look.

Hanzo shook his head. “If I let you see it once, you’ll want to see it all the time.”