Chapter 34: Makeover Day Pt. 3
I'll be honest, I never thought about my hair that much.
Sure, my pale, ice blonde hair was not a naturally occurring shade among much of the population, and yes, it did give me my fair share of attention back in school, but still I didn't think much of it.
I'm also not one of those girls that make the upkeep of their hair a top priority in their lives. Sure, I wash, shampoo, and condition it, but I ended up doing that myself most of the time. Trips to the hairdresser wasn't a common thing for me, and when I did go, I went for small trims because I thought my hair was getting a little too long and I wasn't confident enough to handle the trimming myself.
Plus, I didn't trust Naruto or Iruka coming close to me with a pair of scissors in their hands, especially not my brother.
Anyway, I never had any drastic changes done to my hair in all my years. . .
. . . Well, until today that is.
Once I was formally acquainted with Tai, the stylist in charge of transforming my hair, he started asking me questions about my hair and how I usually took care of it. Since I was supposed to get my hair dyed a different shade of blonde, the questions focused on any instances when I dyed my hair and how I would maintain its upkeep.
After telling him all that he needed to know, which was pretty much my entire hair care history, he took some time to really look at my hair to see what he had to work with. I was actually quite surprised that Tai was impressed at how well I've taken care of my hair, so much so that I ended up breaking into a bashful grin when he admitted it, but of course, he said that I could do better.
Not only that, but thanks to how naturally light my hair already is, I wouldn't be subjected to the multiple dye sessions that darker haired people usually go through. I would only have to go through one max. After going through a strand test to make sure that my hair would accept the bleach, we went right into the process.
I watched as he sectioned off my hair before applying the bleach to the strands, and I was surprised at how cool it felt once he got to my roots. I had to wait 45 minutes before I would be taken over to the shampoo section to rinse it off, but at least I wasn't alone.
Temari was in the same boat with me.
"So, you really never go to a hairdresser all that much?" She asks me after our stylists leave us alone for a bit.
"Nah; not really. . . My adoptive father would take me every two weeks when I was younger, but as I got older, I learned to do it all by myself. Now I only really go when it's time for me to get a trim," I reiterate as I look at my reflection. "What about you? How often do you go?"
"Every other Thursday at 6 pm. On the dot!" She announces, quite proud of her apparent streak. "Never missed an appointment since I was six years old."
"Well that's impressive . . ." I mumble. "So, you've never had to wash your own hair?"
"Not really. There have been times where I had to wash my own locks, but that was when I ended up getting ensnared in one of Kankuro's damn pranks, and trust me, he's done plenty." Temari mumbles, shooting a look her brother's way. He was on the other side of the styling section, too engrossed in his conversation with his stylist, a woman with short red hair, to notice.
"Hmm, judging from your tone of voice, I'm going to say that your brother's pranks were really that bad huh?" I ventured to ask as she turned her gaze back to me.
"Kankuro really does go overboard when it comes to his pranks huh?"
"Are you kidding me?!" She grumbles. "Kankuro was absolutely terrible when we were teenagers. He loved using food in his pranks. Eggs, flour, cucumbers . . . One time he braided a bunch of sardines into my hair while I was sleeping."
"How hard do you have to sleep to not notice that your brother is braiding sardines into your hair?" I ask, and Temari actually seems baffled by my question as she looked off to the side. ". . . Temari?"
"Okay, so I may have snuck into my father's sake cabinet and drank a little too much the night before Kankuro did the sardine prank," She mumbles, much to her blushing embarrassment. "But don't worry, I gave him hell once the fish smell woke me up. . . Took me three weeks to get the smell out of my hair."
"That must have been brutal. . ." I mumble, shaking my head at such a thought. "Naruto is a prankster too, but he's never gone as far as to put fish in my hair."
"Oh? What was the worst prank he ever put you through?"
"When we were younger, I had a huge fear of spiders. . . Like, as soon as I spotted one in the room, BOOM, I'm running," I admit. "So, my brother thought it would be a fun idea to play on my fear by buying the most realistic spider he could get online, and then placing it by my head during one of the few times I was actually able to sleep a full night."
"Ooh, that must have been a terrible sight to wake up to in the morning."
"Trust me, it was," I grumble as I spot my brother getting his hair washed. He was speaking with Gaara and Kiba, the two guys sitting on either side of him, completely oblivious to what we were currently talking about. "Not only did he end up reinforcing my fear, I ended up getting one hell of a bruise because I hit my head against the wall trying to get away from the damn thing."
"Well that had to hurt. . ."
"Oh, it did. . . Iruka had to take me to the emergency room to make sure that I didn't give myself a concussion, which I didn't, if you were wondering," I mumble, looking back at the memory. "Naruto got grounded for a good month when we got back home, but that wasn't enough for me."
"What did you do?"
"I burned up all the ramen in the house, and then I dyed all his clothes bright pink, except his school uniforms. Iruka wouldn't let me color that one."
"Wait a minute! Your adopted father allowed you to do both those things?"
"Of course, he did. He helped me through all of it," I say as a grin spread across my face. "The best part was that Iruka wouldn't let Naruto re-dye his clothes or buy new ones for the next two months. Outside of school, he had to wear pink at all times, and it was GLORIOUS."
"Wait. . . What shade of pink?"
"I didn't want to keep it one-note, so I decided to dye his clothes in shades of cotton candy, bubblegum, and hot pink."
"Niceeee. . ."
We spent our remaining wait time talking about our childhoods and dealing with our annoying brothers. It was interesting to hear about Temari's life as a politician's daughter and how structured it was for the sake of keeping up the family's public image. The siblings' relationship with their father was up and down at best, but at least they all cared for each other in the end, and that's all that anyone can ask for.
Eventually, Tai and Mika, Temari's heavily tattooed stylist, returned and escorted us over to the shampoo area to rinse out all the bleach from our hair before it could get any worse. I didn't really see a noticeable change in the color of my hair, but I did see one in Temari's. Naturally, her hair was as blonde as the sand on a beach, but it was now noticeably lighter, as if someone decided to dip it into a vat of highlighter liquid.
Once we were sure that all the bleach was gone, we went back to our chairs and had the next step of the process done: the actual dying part. While I was going to get my hair painted in silver, judging from the picture on the box of dye sitting at her station, Temari was going to be going platinum, much to her own chagrin.
". . . Never thought I would ever see myself as a platinum blonde." I hear her mumble as she too looks at the box.
"I think going the platinum route is going to be a good look for you," I say as Tai puts on a pair of gloves. "It'll make your green eyes pop even more."
"That's what I'm hoping for . . . If my eyes end up looking better, then I'm really all in for my new look."
"And if they don't end up looking any better?" I ask, my tone teasing as Temari's face fell into a scowl. "Really; I highly doubt that's going to be the case, but still, how would you react if the makeover wasn't what you truly expected?"
"I would learn to embrace it. It may not be what I expected, but it's supposed to help push my career even further, and I'm willing to trust Tsunade and the judges on this," Temari admits. "Plus, there's no way I'm going to be a sourpuss about my makeover. Criticizing the makeover you're given is as much as a taboo as refusing it outright."
"I see someone has really done their research for this competition," Mika mumbles as she finishes sectioning off Temari's hair. "I like a person that respects their history."
"The more informed you are, the better you will be at playing the game." Tai adds, his words immediately earning him a grin from Temari.
"Exactly, my good man. . . Look, this competition has been around for so long that you can perceive some of its trends. One of those trends happens to be that nothing good happens to the models that refuse to accept their makeovers, and trust me, I don't plan to be one of them," Temari decrees. "So . . ?"
"So . . . what?" I ask in return.
"What happens if your makeover doesn't turn out the way you expect it?" She asks, looking suddenly eager to hear my answer. "What?! You should have known that I would launch your question right back at you."
"I would have been disappointed if you didn't ask," I teased, knowing that she made a valid point. "Honestly, I'm eager to see what the end result is going to be. Silvery blonde is not the easiest color to work with, and it's likely going to be quite the hassle to continuously maintain, but I like myself a challenge."
"Now that's the kind of response I can get behind, and you are right. Dyed hair is going to be a bitch to maintain."
"Oh, don't worry your pretty little heads about that. That's what we're here for!" Mika points out as she gestures to herself and Tai.
"You're right. Dyed hair can be a challenge to handle at home, but if you follow our instructions and advice to the letter, you'll be fine." Tai adds, not bothering to hide his cheerful grin. "First, we need to finish your new looks before we start talking about the maintenance. . . Brace yourself girls. Hair dye tends to be quite time consuming."
The dye was cool to the touch once I finally felt it reach my roots, and once Tai had my hair completely covered in the stuff, he set a timer on his phone, telling me that we would go to the next step once the time was up. I didn't get to see how long I had to wait for, but I had a feeling my time was longer than Temari's.
Left to our own devices, all Temari and I could do to entertain ourselves was to look around and see how everyone else's makeovers were going. Ino had long returned from her photoshoot, sitting in a nearby waiting area as Lee and Suigetsu talked a few feet away from her. Tsunade and Kakashi were talking to Shikamaru by the staircase that led up to the next floor. She was gesturing around at his now trimmed hair, which barely touched his shoulders, and I must admit, Shikamaru looked good with his hair loose as it was.
It was quite a difference from his 'pineapple ponytail', as Temari likes to call it.
Speaking of Temari . . .
"Temari, has something caught your eye?" I ask as I turn to my fellow blonde, a smirk inevitably crossing my face as I saw Temari staring at her supposed foe with a look that wasn't negative for once.
"No!" She almost screeched, moving her gaze from Shikamaru to me with startled eyes.
"Really. . ?" I ask. "Are you sure?"
"Trust me . . . I'm sure," She says, but she didn't sound too convincing. "I guess I'm just not used to seeing Shikamaru with his hair down. That's all."
"Hmm, that's fair," I concede, though I knew it wasn't truthful. Judging from the look Temari was giving me, she knew she wasn't being truthful either. ". . . Your secret is safe with me."
"I don't have a secret," Temari grumbles as we watch Shikamaru follow Kakashi up the stairs. "I'm being honest with you here."
"Are you really sure about that?"
"I am . . . And if you mention this conversation to either of my brothers, I will seek payback, Izuka!"
"Like I said before, your secret is safe with me," I repeat, holding my hands up to show that I didn't mean any harm. "So, shall we talk about something else?"
We ended up talking about everyone else's makeovers, and Temari had quite the opinions on some of the new looks. Matsuri, TenTen, and Sakura were all getting weaves, which was a long process in of itself. Matsuri was practically beaming as her stylist continued to work on her, but TenTen and Sakura were entirely different stories. TenTen was better at masking how painful it was, but Sakura was a lot more obvious, wincing every time her stylist weaved a braid.
"Sakura's scalp must be that sensitive if she's going to grimace every five seconds. . ." Temari was quick to point out as Sakura winced, again. "Why can't she be like TenTen? At least she's hiding her pain."
"Beauty can be a hassle, as for hiding her pain, maybe Sakura just isn't good at internalizing it," I suggest as I look at Matsuri. "At least Matsuri seems to be enjoying herself."
"She looks like she's getting ready to shoot a toothpaste commercial. All that hair braiding is not affecting her one bit." Temari adds, smirking. "It's almost disturbing."
"Do you know what's profoundly disturbing? Check out Sasuke!" I order, nodding to our right. I watched Temari as she turned her head, and I couldn't help but chuckle as her eyes widened at how far into his makeover the Uchiha was. The extensions that he was assigned were already in place, but his stylist was pruning them up, cutting them midway along his neck.
I considered him one of the stronger competitors before today, but now, he was just a little more dangerous in my eyes.
"It's like he's a completely different person . . . All traces of the bird butt are gone!" Temari whispers as she turns back to me. "He looks like an emo now, but a very fashionable emo nonetheless."
"And here I thought Gaara was going to be the resident emo in the house," I mumble, shaking my head at some of the first impressions I had of him. "Sasuke's going to take that title from him with just a new hairstyle alone."
'You thought Gaara was emo as soon as you saw him, didn't you?"
"Can you blame me? With insomnia rings like ours, it's not hard to think that we were really heavy handed with the eyeliner before we stepped out in public." I say in my defense as I spot the redhead now underneath one of the dryers.
"I can't blame you for thinking the way you did . . . Gaara has had his moments in the past, and I've got plenty of stories. Would you like to hear a few of them?"
"I don't know. . . Wouldn't I be infringing on Gaara's privacy if you told me these stories?" I ask, not wanting to make any trouble.
"You would be hearing these stories from my perspective, so you would only know what I know. Trust me, I'm a genuine, honest witness to some of Gaara's biggest moments, and I don't mind sharing with you one bit," Temari advises. "So, are you in?"
I took one last glance at Gaara, who was talking with his stylist as she checked on the progress of his hair. He was completely oblivious as to what was going on at our end, but the idea of hearing more about his background was just too appealing to refuse, even if it was from a connected third party.
"I'm in."
A/N: Please review!
