Bad Hair Day
A/N: A gift for Lord Yau who requested something featuring the pair you're about to read about.

o0o

Since waking up this morning he knew it would be one of those dreadful days when his hair seemed to have a mind of its own - a very wicked, rebellious mind. And since Bankotsu's hair was long and thick he knew it would take ages to tame it. As a leader of a band of mercenaries he had to look decently.

He sat in his tent, staring at a polished piece of metal being his mirror, holding a brush as if it was his trusted blade. He eyed the unruly mane of hair falling in waves around his face and cascading down his shoulders. He even gave a growl of annoyance before attacking the wors opponent of them all - his own hair.

A string of quiet, yet passionate curses followed the growl soon as he was working. Three times he tried to pull his hair in a high ponytail, then a low one. He even tried to twist it in a bun like one of his comrades was wearing so often.

After a few minutes of losing the battle he started to consider cutting the hair short. He liked it long most of the time, but right now he just wanted to end this mad rebellion of his mane and start his day. He had work to do, damn it!

Suddenly he felt a pair of deft hands tug at his hair, pulling it off his grasp. He turned around to see a smile dancing on lips of his friend. He was so focused he let his sneaky companion approach him without realizing he wasn't alone in his tent anymore.

"Bad hair day, huh?" he smiled wider, his eyes sparkling with mirth. He nodded and groaned. "Can I help you?" he nodded again, this time hope filling his eyes. A sneaky hand snatched the brush from his fingers.

"Sit straight, big bro and let the master work," he was commanded and he complied with a chuckle, not minding the order. His little brother wouldn't challenge him, he was happy to follow Ban's lead, but he was not only his subordinate, he was his dearest friend. So he sat straight and sighed, letting him work on untangling his hair. Then they were sitting in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until the man behind him threw over his shoulder something slim and heavy like a snake or a rope. He looked down and saw a neatly braided plait.

"Oh!"

"See? I can do magic with my fingers," the other man chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Do you like it, big bro?"

"Thank you! It looks so good and I don't have to cut my hair short to look like a man, not a broom!" he exclaimed as he turned around and threw his arms around his friend to hug him in gratitude.

"Heh, that's nothing. You can always count on me, big bro," the young man smiled happily.

A/N: Because braids are cool and bad hair days are not