Being Blonde
He was very self conscious about his hair.
Being blonde was great. All the girls loved the hair. The way it spiked, its texture, and the color. It stood out.
The thing was, he was a ninja. And though the training gave him a great physique, it meant that more often than not, he was dirty and gross. Rinsing off in a stream is fine, but it doesn't do much for hair. He had always felt that it was rude to use soap in a stream. Animals and plants needed that water clean, and while dirt and sweat was natural, the stuff in soap was definitely not. He was self conscious about his hair.
So as missions went on, his hair would change from the yellow that he so valued, to a light brown. The texture would change, and it would hang in limp clumps, unable to take the weight of the spikes because of the grease. It didn't help that when he didn't wash his hair for more than two days, he got terrible dandruff, which lowered his desirability by a substantial amount. Even after he washed it, the dandruff would stay for a couple of days. The only good bit was that once his hair was clean, the dandruff was invisible. After long missions where the annihilation of his beloved hair occurred, he always wore light colors.
He was self conscious about his hair. He would go into a hotel if he could, but he was too good for low key missions where he could stop in a town without worrying. He only got those when he asked special permission, and even then it was iffy. He would have to be careful anyway. He was a great ninja, just getting better. In the bingo books, or so he's been told.
He put on a good face, but it bothered him quite a bit. Enough so that he sometimes wished for a desk job. At least everyone had the same problem. That was all he could think. He had never talked about it, but he had seen the state of his teammates hair, and it was just the same.
He just wished he had the time to wash his hair whenever he needed to. That was all. He just wanted to wash his hair.