.o18 Straight Perm
Every morning it was the same thing; wake up, brush teeth, shower, and get dressed. Leaving her hair to curl up in to very kinky waves of rosy ringlets. The stunning envy of her blond and brunette friends alike, as often times their fingers ended up playing with the coils that bounced about her shoulders like linking springs. Truly Sakura found those coils annoying though she was admired for them by men as well, often times getting hit on for the self proclaimed frizzy mess. Often times she longed for a straight perm, or some sort of relaxant for those lush things as she found her self-envying her friends and their obviously Asian straight hair. As often these friends whined about their lack of ability to do anything with that luxury of tangle free hair.
Even their male friends bitched about the limpness of their flaxen locks. Often times Sakura would grit her teeth, often times inwardly conversing on how long it takes her to even get hair like that. The girl knew she wasn't alone in a hair dilemma like this in the world, only in Japan it felt like the girl was singled out by some vengeful god to have curly salmon pink hair.
It was almost ironic that she'd stick out like a sore thumb, as she often did in the past to bullies of blatant jealousy who spread lies like rats spread epidemics. At least high school was a tad better though they were still around; sneering at every chance they ever got though when they didn't it was because their grades depended on being 'friends'.
Feet trudged along littered streets from the school to a large apartment complex. Stopping to look at a salon, in shallow desire as they offered what the Internet called a Straight perm. Something that would flatten those curls for months until the next application of chemicals. All of this much akin to normal, curling perms that school aged to middle aged women decided to get.
A punctuated sigh and off again, meandering past the dreamland of perfectly normal hair. Her forehead ramming in to a hot-blooded chest in figurative easily, cursing her self for the lazy manner in which she trotted home.
Luckily the she didn't break her nose as the man's hand straightened her out in a very idealistic way of male chivalry though it would now be considered potential 'rape'.
He on the other hand curious of that longing stare and the swift departure in to his chest doing the most chivalrous thing taught by elders and parents. Headphones encapsulated his ears, as she stared up at him in embarrassment as both obviously went to gender separated schools. It was completely obvious by badges and uniform coloration. Sakura was embarrassed; usually the girl never let her guard down while Madara was in faint amusement at how red she could go. Most girls would forget their embarrassment and ogle and coo freely while she was a gargle of sorry's and other slang words prominent to her social class.
Sakura rushed from the spot after muttering a few insults to her self and apologies to the man who was sort of hot. The puffy eyes took away from the blatant attractiveness her hand to her face, a red streak across her cheeks while running off in to the crowds that were so familiar. During this time period he turned around slightly to watch her angle out of his sharp eyes. Turning back to look at the poster on the salon's window front, Madara unconsciously moved his hand through almost shorn locks of ebon. Man he missed his hair.
What used to be long, silky locks often ironed flat to take away the 'fly away' s were snipped close for school regulation, a new rule by a new principal. Often times when I walked home from school he saw the same girl looking at that poster, and counting her fingers. When she was done staring at the poster in longing, Madara would look as well in silent curiosity in why some one would want to alter their form. Of course this was before his hair was to be cut short, and fan girls took more notice of him now than ever. Personally the young man came up with the analogy or heard it some where ' you don't know what you have until its gone.' As he has heard many a girl from the all girls high school whine about how they missed something that they changed or destroyed for the sake of popularity or for a guy they pined over.
Often times, there was a pining gesture within himself to tap the pink curly haired girl on the shoulder and tell her than she was fine the way she was. But that would be just weird, a stranger telling someone that they were fine the way they were with a bundle of candy colored curls. Maybe someday out of the norm, he'd introduce himself as one of the most popular kids on the block with a four point oh and that he was a creeper by watching her almost every other day staring at the poster that clung to glass. Fat chance. As a bicycle with a friend whizzed on by, striking conversation and temporarily forgetting about the girl who wanted a straight perm until the next day.