The story so far:

----Aija, Zuri, and Ze are three friends, who were working at the Pristine School at Innermost. Aija gets involved with the Ytai first, leading Zuri and Ze to them as well. Zuri falls in love with Nala (Lalana), who is Ytai, and works with Thieron. Aija and Ze are captured by Thieron, of H'eon, when they were at the Hospital - Aija was at the Hospital with Kuna of R'ies and Zuri to stop a Harvest; Ze was there to visit his sick student Xan. Xan, a student at the Pristine School, gives up his soul to Thieron, and Xan, is subsequently released by Aija. He then settles into the body of a kitten that Aija found at the Hospital, and is taken to where Thieron resides. Aija wills Xan to talk; he can speak now with his own voice. Thieron has bound Aija to himself, and Nala has bound Ze to herself. Luka works for Thieron(Ah'n), along with Lalana (Nala). Luka found Aija first at her school, teaching the kids. He seems to care for her. Luka's feelings for Aija only seem to be increasing with time. He's worried about Thieron finding out.

----Luka, Nala, and Ze go to Ba' diur's place to ask him to deliver a message to Var-Inu, leaving Thieron and Aija alone at home.

----Thieron and Aija get into a fight.

----When Thieron was asleep, Aija cut his hair to get back at him.

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****27.2 - Thieron****

Thieron looked at Aija. 

She looked a little scared, anticipating his reaction, but gradually a faint smile spread on her lips. Eventually, she burst into laughter. 

Thieron ran to the mirror in the study. Aija had cut his hair at varying lengths. Some locks of hair were long, and some were so short they barely reached his chin. 

He grew violent. How dare she touch his hair? How did he not realize what she was up to? He'd been dreaming of her, and she'd been cutting his hair. 

He went back into the main room. Aija was still on the floor, clutching the scissors in her hand - she had a big smile on her lips, overly satisfied with herself. The kitten wasn't to be seen anywhere. 

He pulled her up, plucked the scissors, and threw it. He dragged her to the wall and pushed her against it. He held her firmly and pressed her shoulders against the wall. She gasped in pain, all her earlier mirth gone. 

"Look at me!" he roared. 

When she didn't, he lifted her chin up and repeated himself. 

She looked at him, worry in her storm-grey eyes. 

"How dare you do something like this?" he questioned, grinding his teeth. 

Aija didn't reply. 

"Answer me!" 

She flinched but remained quiet. 

Thieron let her go. She slid to the floor and caught her breath as she hugged her knees. 

He looked foolish. His hair was a complete mess. He searched for the hair-band; it was on the floor by the couch. He gathered the longer strands and tied it up as neatly as he could. He then wore a sweat-shirt with a hoodie and pulled it over his head. 

He dragged Aija off the floor and made her wear her shoes. He put on his boots as she did hers as infuriatingly slow as possible. He took her hand and took her out of the house. She was quiet, knowing how in a rage he was; she didn't even look at him. At least her smile had vanished, and she had the civility of being fearful of him. 

He hauled her down the hill, walking fast. She had to half-run to keep up with him. 

What was he going to do with her? She was audacious; uncontainable. Maybe he shouldn't have been nice to her. He should have treated her like the other Ytai would, and she would have known her place. 

The problem was – Thieron didn't want to hurt her. But, she was driving him insane. First, by releasing the boy's In'ealk, he had Harvested, given up willingly by the boy himself, then by releasing the In'ealk a few days ago; now, by cutting his hair into a mess. She had gone too far this time. Perhaps he should have left her with Alton Ivar or Dhor-Wo. Possibly, he should do it now. 

They walked – Thieron walked, Aija half-ran – to the small town. He found a barbershop and went in. There were no customers at the time. He was welcomed by a short man who liked he was in his sixties. 

"Haircut?" the man asked him, a pleasant smile on his face. 

Thieron nodded. 

"Come on in." the man said and motioned him to a chair facing a mirror. 

He let go of Aija's hand and said, "Stay here." 

She looked perplexed but complied. She wouldn't be attempting anything crazy for a while. 

Thieron removed his sweat-shirt and put it on the seat next to her and sat on the chair the small human man had motioned him to. The man adjusted its height to enable him to reach his hair. He then removed the hair-tie, and his hair fell into a mess around his face. 

The barber's eyes rounded as he took in the damage. "Oh! Bless the Leadership! What happened?" 

"Just cut it," Thieron ordered, squishing his nose in disgust.

The barber looked back at Aija for a second and then again at Thieron, looking like he was suppressing a smile. He nodded at Thieron. "What type of a haircut would you prefer?" he said, putting over him a large cloth to catch the cut hair. 

"Whatever you think suits me," Thieron mumbled. "Just make this mess neat." 

As the man cut his hair with an electric blade, Thieron looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn't cut his hair in such a very long time. Nala had been telling him he needed one, but he hadn't bothered too much about it. This haircut had been long due. 

Thieron glanced at Aija in the mirror. She was looking at him, confusion lacing her features. She hadn't expected him to bring her to a barbershop. Whatever she was expecting his reaction to be, it wasn't this. Well, Thieron needed to look neat before he took care of her. 

Once the man was done, he asked if Thieron was alright with it. The man had cut his hair perfectly. His hair was a little short at the sides, and the man had left his hair longer at the top; it framed his face well. He could even braid the silky strands if he wished too, to keep them off his face. The human clearly knew what he was doing, so Thieron had another request for him. The man complied with a smile. 

Thieron stared at himself in the mirror. He hadn't looked so neat in years. He could finally see his face without the thick stubble. He had asked the barber for a shave, and the man had used some small device to pluck all of the hair – his skin was smooth as if the hair had never grown. He was surprised at his own face. It had been so long since he looked this presentable. The last time he looked like this was in Ytèan, when he lived with his aunt – the hairstyle was even so similar to the one he'd had back then. 

He stood and adjusted his hair, instantly feeling better – not a feeling he was expecting to experience – and found Aija staring at him in the mirror. She looked taken aback – like the exact opposite of what she had intended to happen had happened. 

He smirked. He was feeling better indeed, now even more content seeing the astonishment on Aija's face. He paid the barber with a tap of his finger and thanked him. 

"You are a good-looking young man." the human man said. "Stop hiding." 

Thieron stared at him; he had been hiding – not his looks (it never bothered him), but something more. He nodded. Sometimes humans were immeasurably perceptive. 

"Come," he told Aija and walked out of the shop. 

She followed him quietly, eyes on the ground. She had been looking to make a mess of him. Instead, she had made him get a haircut and a shave that were, in fact, long due. It was unsettling her. He knew it. He could see the surprise, disappointment, and confusion in her aura. He felt pleased with himself. 

Once they were home, he took her upstairs to his room and locked her in. She banged on the door. 

"Let me out!" 

"Be grateful that this is the only thing I'm doing to punish you," he told her. "Other Ytai wouldn't be so kind to you. If you continue to show your stupid bravery, I'll leave you at the Open. Or maybe feed you to a starving Savage." 

Aija grew quiet. 

"Oh, no!" he continued. "A Savage will kill you instantly. I'll leave you with the Ytai. They will not kill you on sight." he threatened her. "They will take pleasure in torturing you until you beg them to end your life. That's when they'll start to truly enjoy it." 

She remained quiet. 

Thieron went back downstairs, into the darkening main room. He really should consider leaving her at the Open. But, it would mean him staying there as well; which would only become torture for him. 

He checked his Scroll. Tech had sent him the location of the Àvo soul at Old Sea Drive. It was very close to the Sea in Land area. A plan started forming in his mind. 

By the time it grew dark, he had settled on a better version of the original plan. 

****

Luka, Nala, and Ze arrived just before their usual dinner time. Thieron was pouring food into the cats' bowls as the three of them walked in. 

"Ba' diur isn't sure it can be made faster." Nala declared while removing her shoes. 

Thieron stood after putting the food into the fifth bowl – for the kitten. He had not seen it since he took Aija to the barbershop. 

He turned around to face them and watched as Nala's mouth dropped open, and Luka halted mid-step. Nala had even reached for her blade, and her hand was now hanging mid-air as she realized that it was Thieron, himself, who was in front of them. 

Ze, too looked surprised, but he walked into the study and glanced back at him once as he did. 

"Thieron?" Nala asked her voice, cradling doubt and amazement. 

"Did you really...?" Luka couldn't even complete his question. 

"Why? Is it that bad?" Thieron enquired, knowing the answer all too well. 

"Dv'o!" Nala and Luka said together. No! 

"I'd been asking you to get a haircut for years now," Nala told him. "Why today?" 

Because that girl messed it up, he thought. 

He just shrugged in response. He didn't want them to know the haircut was courtesy of Aija's audaciousness. He had cleaned the locks of hair on the couch and floor and even taken a bath and changed his clothes to get rid of all the evidence. 

"You look good." Luka acknowledged with a nod. 

"You finally look clean," Nala admitted, grinning. 

He frowned at her. After the initial shock from his haircut and clean shave wore off, he informed them about the Àvo soul at Old Sea Drive and his plan on how to go about it. 

"Luka, you will have to trail him this week," Thieron told him. 

Luka nodded. 

"Can we eat now?" Nala said, looking at the kitchen. "I'm hungry." 

"Sure," Thieron said. "The humans eat in their rooms tonight." 

Both Luka and Nala raised their brows at him. He didn't offer them an explanation. The last thing he wanted was to admit Aija had chopped his hair. She might even take credit for it in front of the others just to annoy him further. 

"You look so much better," Nala told him again as she got off the couch. 

He gave her a faint smile. He was still perplexed as to how Aija had managed it. He should have heard her come down; should have heard the sound of the scissors. 

He could see his reflection in the windowpane in the kitchen. He ran his fingers through his hair. The last he remembered having such short hair, he was on Ytèan in Zya'ara. Before he officially started working for his uncle Alton Ivar. Before he became Ah'n Ivar. Before, he began Harvesting souls on the Earth. Before he separated Ah'n and Thieron. 

"I don't know what prompted you to get your hair cut, Ah'n." Nala's voice was candid as she stood next to him, her silver hair a bright streak in the windowpane. "But, I'm glad for you." 

He nodded. Nala had seen him like this before, had called him Ah'n before she had called him Thieron. She had been with him in Zya'ara; she had been with him for such a long time – since they were mere children. She had stuck with him since they were kids; with him through everything. 

Nala was genuinely happy seeing him looking neat. She had pestered him for a long time to get his hair cut and to shave. She had let it go only for the past fifty or so years. 

****

"Now, take this to Aija," Nala ordered, putting a plate in his hand. 

She and Luka had washed up, changed into more comfortable clothes, and had come down for dinner. 

Thieron frowned at her. "It was your idea that they eat in the rooms. Now go give Aija her dinner." 

Annoyed, he trudged up the stairs. Better him anyway. If it was Luka or Nala, it would give her another chance to claim what she had done. He compelled the door to his room to unlock and stepped in. She was standing by the window and staring out. The kitten was on the bed, curled up on the blanket. 

Aija's long black hair fell in waves across her shoulders, all the way below her waist. He was surprised that it didn't make him miss his own hair, which had been longer than hers just that afternoon. 

He did, however, want to run his fingers through her silky strands.

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