A/N: Another one o.o It's one I thought of while I was going to class today. Don't ask why or how, I don't know either.
I think Lan Fan and Ling are totally OoC in this one (you can kill me later) and the ending is awful. x.x
Oh well. I'm too lazy to fix it. You can just enjoy it as it is.
Oh, and the town of "Jiang" was made up and completely random...I opened my Chinese dictionary to a random page and chose the pinyin as the city name XD
Lan Fan had kept her hair in the same style for years.
Pitch black, the color of a night sky without stars or a moon. Moderately long, with a ragged look to it. Usually tied up with a strip of white cloth into a professional-looking, tight bun.
It had been the same for years.
She had been told by Winry Rockbell that she would look good in long hair. "It really would," Winry had said as they watched Ling eat his way through Ed's room service menu. "Long black hair would fit you really nicely, Lan Fan. Your face would look good with it. You should try it sometime."
Yes, Lan Fan thought, standing in front of a mirror, her reflection staring back at her in it. She curled a strand of her loose hair around her fingertip, testing the length. I would look good with long hair. I know I would. I have seen myself with it before.
But I won't see myself with it again.
She was only ten years old, but already the strongest among the other guards in training. And they were all boys.
Lan Fan was proud of that. Most of the girls grew up not knowing anything about fighting, and they were as weak as a sapling: without a stick or support to hold it up, they would easily bend over and die. She was the one girl out of many that was strong, brave, and fit enough to protect the Yao prince. She was that one sapling who could stand without a stick.
Her hair. To her, it was something that showed that she was the one girl guard out of the hundreds of boys. She had grown it long, despite her grandfather's cries. "It serves as a disadvantage," he had protested. "Someday you will be killed because of your long hair, Lan Fan. A female guard should never take pride in their femininity. It is not heard of. Cut it."
But she had refused, pushing away the silver shears he attempted to hand her. In the end, Fu gave up, giving her only a warning. "You will be sorry the day you lose a battle because of your hair, granddaughter. Mark my words."
And Lan Fan was fine with that answer. There was no way she was going to give up the waist-length hair she had spent so long growing out. There was no way she would lose a battle because of her hair. It was simply ridiculous.
Little did she know that Fu's words would strike true very, very soon.
"Lan Fan, I'm huuungry," Ling complained. He rubbed his stomach, his eyes looking tired. "Foooood..."
"All right, I get it!" Lan Fan snapped, before realizing her mistake. "Forgive my rude language, Young Master. I believe I have several coins on me." She reached into the pocket of her black clothes, and felt for the drawstring pouch that contained money. Her hand closed on it, and she took it out. "Please pick a place where you would like to eat at...ah."
Ling was already sitting at a dumpling stand, shoving the food into his mouth with his chopsticks. The rate that the dumplings moved from plate to mouth was way beyond normal. Despite he was only ten years old, he ate like a full-grown man. Lan Fan sighed through her mask, and moved toward the stand, her long hair fluttering in the hot, breezy air. "Honestly..."
They were in the town of Jiang, the one closest to the Yaos' residence. No one had realized that a prince and his closest bodyguard were in this grubby, noisy little place. Which was a relief, Lan Fan thought. The less attention they attracted, the better.
She stood next to the food stand, and paid the vendor for the five plates of food the prince had ordered. Ten minutes in, a man went and sat on the stool next to the prince, and ordered a plate of leek dumplings. After carefully watching him for a period of time, she concluded that he only wanted the dumplings, nothing more. The stranger ate with the same kind of fervor as the prince next to him. Lan Fan even let her guard down, ever so slightly.
She had chosen the wrong time to do so. In a flash, the man had put down his chopsticks, and had a knife at Ling's throat. "Hello, little prince," he leered.
"Young Master!" Lan Fan leaped forward, her hand reaching toward her kunai. She was so close to grabbing it, and throwing it into the man's side—
A jerk pulled her back, and her hand flew away from her belt. Someone was pulling her hair, the luxurious hair that Lan Fan loved so much. She spun around, facing her captor. It was a large, greasy-looking Xingese man—no doubt the assassin's accomplice. Lan Fan pulled her head back, attempting to loosen the man's grip. "Let go!" she hissed. Her hand gripped the handle of her kunai, and she flung it directly at her captor—but his meaty hand grabbed her wrists and dropped the weapon to the ground. "No struggling, little sister," he said with a wicked smile. "You want to kill me, you die."
Furious, she aimed several kicks at his weak spots, but to no avail. Silently she cursed her long hair, the silky strands that had gotten both her and Ling in such a position. If she hadn't had such hair, she would have been able to take the two men on easily. And now she was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Grandfather was right. I'm such a fool! Leaving my hair long like that was just asking for trouble.
"This'll bring up a pretty good haul," the captor who held Ling grunted. Ling was caught between the captor's arm and his body, his arms bound to his side. "The Yao prince, huh? And looks like this girl is his bodyguard. The guy who hired us had better pay us good."
"He'd better," the one who held Lan Fan answered. "This one's giving me trouble." Furious, she aimed another kick at the captor's ankles. But it was futile.
"Let's just get going, before the town people start talking—OUCH!" Cursing, the other man grabbed his shirt with his hand. Bright beads of blood oozed between his fingers. "Damn kid!"
"Hey!" Her captor loosened his grip, and within a flash Lan Fan had darted out. She delivered a blow to his head, and he dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks. She spun around."Young Master!"
"Lan Fan!" Ling jogged up to her, his sword still in his hand. "It's good I remembered I had my sword on me, and that the guy forgot to restrain my hands. Are you all right?"
"Yes. I'm fine. Let's go, we should not stay in this dangerous place any longer. This should also be reported immediately." She turned away, refusing to say any more. Shame burned on her cheeks. As they left the town and left the two men to the authorities (who had arrived a little late), she thought, I'm such a fool. I failed to protect my prince, and he ended up protecting me. And it was all because of my hair. What kind of guard am I?
It turned out that the two men were hired by another clan to assassinate the Yao prince. Fortunately, they had failed, but that didn't mean that it would be forgotten.
Lan Fan had gone home after the fiasco day in town. Fu, of course, had heard the news. He had slapped her, twice, and lectured her for a long time. Once he had finished, she had retreated to her room.
She sat in front of her bed, and stared into the small mirror she owned. It was the mirror that she had used to comb her hair for years. And now it would serve a different purpose.
Lan Fan took a kunai from her belt and held it up to the black strands. If I failed to protect him because of my long hair, it must go, she thought. So I will keep it short, like some of the boys. Not like Young Master, who keeps his hair long. Grandfather spoke the truth. I have no right to have pride in my femininity.
She slashed, and the first few chunks dropped down to the floor. And again. Soon her hair was only slightly below her shoulders. But it had to be shorter than this. She frowned, and raised the knife again to cut off more—
"Stop!"
Her eyes glanced upward, and grew wide. Somehow, Ling had managed to swing through her window and was now wrestling the kunai away from her. "Stop it, Lan Fan!"
"But I couldn't protect you!" she cried. "Because of this, we almost lost that fight...and we could have been killed! I don't deserve to be your personal guard if I can't even protect you."
"So?" He touched Lan Fan's shortened hair, and fingered the ragged ends. "I don't care. I like your hair. Don't cut it anymore. If it really gets in the way, tie it up."
He held out his hand. In it was a ribbon-like linen cloth, similar to the type he used to tie his own hair. She tentatively took it, and tied her remaining hair up into a bun. It wasn't so bad. Lan Fan glanced over at Ling, and he nodded. "That's good."
Her cheeks flushed. "Th…thank you," she said. "I…I won't cut my hair again. I'll keep it the same length. I promise!" And she dipped her head in a quick, embarrassed way.
"If you promise it, then you really mean it, Lan Fan." Ling stood up, and put one foot on the windowsill. "I'm going to go. Don't break it."
She let go of the lock of hair. It dropped down to touch the plate on her chest, the strands sticking to the metal. She picked up her kunai and cut a few centimeters off, the strands fluttering to the ground. She then twisted her hair up into a bun and tied it off.
Lan Fan looked into the mirror one last time. Her hair looked exactly as she had for the last five years.
And that was a good thing. She hadn't broken her promise, and she would never. Lan Fan would always keep her promises to her Young Master.
Even if it was about hair.
Reviews are love :]