Girl
Kate exited the girls' washroom. Her hair was falling out of her one remaining spoinktail. She sighed, pulled the hair tie out, and made to go through the horribly pink door of the girls' dorm.
"Kate?" A drowsy voice called. She froze. Someone had seen her. "Hey, Kate, what's with your hair? Come over here so I can see!"
Oh. Keith. Great.
Kate crossed the room, passing a set of couches and a long table with comfortable chairs lining the edges, taking her time until she finally reached a second, identical set of squishy red couches. On the one facing her sat Keith, propped up in a corner like he had been trying to sleep.
His eyes were wide.
"Keith, if you breathe a word-"
"But Kate-" He paused. "Kate, you have your hair down! It looks good! I bet I'm the only one in ARS to see this, ever!" He thought a moment. "And...not to say you normally look like a boy, but you look like a proper girl."
"Which is why I keep my hair up," she snarled. "I have an-"
"Image to keep up, I know," finished Keith. "Kate, sit down. You've been obsessing over the finals; you haven't talked to me properly in days. This is as good an opportunity as any other. Sit," he ordered at the girl's hesitation.
"Why the heck do you not want to look nice once in a while? I mean, this hairdo looks just as good as your spoinktails."
Kate haughtily shook her chin-length hair out and put it back up with her hair ties. "Because it gets in the way."
"Your bangs don't seem to bother you. And you purposely leave some hair near the front out. That counts as annoying too, doesn't it?"
Kate groaned and fell back to lie down the length of the couch. "I don't like to be underestimated because I'm a girl. I want people to look at me and consider me properly for any job they ask, because they know I'll do it."
"And you think your hair will say that? Kate, aren't those things usually judged by past experience and you yourself?" Keith lay down as well to face her. "Stop making up excuses."
Kate stared defiantly at the ceiling. "They're not excuses. They're all little bits that add up."
"They add up and leave a big hole in the middle, sure."
"What if I told you I don't want to look pretty?"
"You…what?" Keith hadn't really expected her to give in so easily. "Changing your hairstyle doesn't change your face and your level of beauty. It affects it, but it doesn't-"
"That's just it! I don't want it to be affected! I don't want the first thing older Rangers to notice to be my face, or my hair, or my body! I want them to notice the hardworking Ranger named Kate who does her best and knows her facts! And I don't want people to judge me! I like my hairstyle how it is right now, out of the way and practical. And…I don't…I don't like it when people compliment me on my looks or say how I should wear my hair down more often, and…it's just so Mewdamned annoying and- and-" she faltered. There was a long silence.
"Embarrassing."
Keith inwardly gasped; to do so out loud would drive Kate away. "Embarrassed?" he said, afraid to say anything that would spark her temper.
She nodded listlessly. He didn't express his surprise, or remind her that she was the girl who was rumoured to never have blushed in her life, who avoided doing crazy things not because they were embarrassing, but because they were stupid, or pointless, or would make them look unprofessional, or something other than embarrassment.
To Keith, this was like discovering that mythical living creatures other than humans and Pokemon actually existed.
The two sat quietly, occasionally glancing up at each other. Finally, after an infinite amount of time (or so it seemed), Kate stiffly stood up. "If you tell a single soul a word about this conversation or meeting, I'll kill you. Slowly. So keep your mouth shut."
"Even to Rhythmi?"
"Especially near Rhythmi. And just for the record, you are such a girl whenever I bring up hair and feelings," she added to cheer herself up. It worked; Keith sputtered and his face grew red.
Kate laughed quietly. "Thanks for the help. 'Night, Oprah."
