Switzerland's bare feet tapped against the polished floors of the hallway, it was early morning, and he had risen only to visit the lavatory.
Vash opened the bathroom door, and was immediately swamped by an assortment of bottles, vials, and hairbrushes.
"Lily." Vash sighed.
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In lieu of breakfast, Vash and Liechtenstein picnicked outside. It was a regular custom for the two countries to eat Al Fresco, however, what was not regular was the state of Liechtenstein's hair.
Her lavender ribbon was askew, and half of her hair stood up in gelled spikes, while the other portion hung over her ears in limp curls.
"Lily?" Vash groaned, "Why did you do you hair like that?"
Ever since Liechtenstein had cut her hair to model her brother's, she had trouble managing the jagged bob, which explained the excess of hair products that occupied their bathroom.
Vash frankly, was tired of seeing his sister torture her golden hair into innumerable styles, and tangled braids.
"Come on," Vash said, packing up the picnic basket, "Lets go inside." "Yes big bruder." Liechtenstein replied cheerfully.
As Liechtenstein washed the dishes in the kitchen, Vash ransacked the internet for hair and makeup tutorials. By the time Liechtenstein had finished drying the last spoon, Vash had watched hundreds of videos, and dismissed all of them as unsuitable to his purpose.
"Big bruder, are you allright?" Liechtenstein questioned, having come into the parlour to find her brother slumped over his laptop. "Ngh, Lily, I am fine." Vash said, rubbing at his burning eyes.
"Would you mind dusting the room, Lily?" he asked.
As soon as Liechtenstein had set to work with an enormous feather duster, Vash snuck away to the nearest telephone, and called Hungary.
Austria was not enthusiastic about being interrupted by a ringing phone during his piano recital, but Hungary was very cooperative, and answered all of Vash's questions, in an effort to dispel his ignorance concerning feminine beauty, while Austria shamelessly eavesdropped.
Vash was jotting down notes, and patiently listening to Hungary ramble on, when a click echoed on the other line, and Hungary's lecture concerning hair dye was suddenly cut off.
"Hungary?" Vash quizzed, shaking the phone "Hungary?"
The doorbell rang at that moment, and Vash dropped the phone, and ran to answer it.
Vash opened the door to find a livid Austria on his standing on his porch, holding a pair of silver shears, and a pink bag stuffed with even more hair products.
Austria stomped past Switzerland, and stepped into the house, "Where's Liechtenstein?" Austria said.
"She's in the parlour." Vash answered. "Lets get this over with then." Austria said.
Liechtenstein was rather confused when she was pushed into a chair and then shoved in front of a mirror. Austria set to work, evening out the ragged bob, and massaging various potions and creams into her golden hair.
When he was done, Liechtenstein was adorned with a shiny wedge of gold, her ribbon had been curled, and tucked in above her right ear.
Austria did not stop there, though.
He turned his attention on Switzerland, and Vash was forced to endure the indignities of a flat-iron and scissors, until Austria pronounced him fit for public consumption.
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In the end, Switzerland had to reconcile himself to that fact that doing good hairstyles was the one thing he could not do for his sister.
And also, that Austria would be coming over every weekend to do those aforementioned hairdos for Liechtenstein.