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Zuko’s letting her hair grow out, and it feels like a trap.
It’s not long enough to worry about styling yet; it’s short and fluffy and masculine, and she can’t decide how that makes her feel. But at least she doesn’t have to make a decision yet. She doesn’t have to figure out how Earth Kingdom men wear long hair, or whether or not she should just make it easy on herself and cut it short again. She doesn’t have to officially reconcile herself to wearing masculine hairstyles, because she doesn’t have a choice yet. That will come later.
It’s been three years since she had properly long hair, not just a shaved scalp surrounding a ponytail, and instead of enjoying it she’s going to use it to add to the disguise she wears every moment of her life. The anticipation of the self-betrayal digs into her chest at times and makes it hard to breathe, and she wonders now and then whether she shouldn’t just give up the charade, consequences be damned. But then her father’s voice echoes in her head and she has to give up that daydream, brush herself off and pretend that she’s always been a prince.
She wonders when she stopped believing her father, when he became an obstacle instead of a compass, and finds that she has no idea.