daisies // sasunaru

daisy

*Click*

With the flick of a button, the electric shaver begins to buzz and shake as the small blades move together in a mesmerizing pattern. Big, blue eyes dance over the repetitive blades, blond eyelashes widening. Tan fingers keep a  decisive grip around the shaver regardless of the aggressive vibrations that would make one's hand fill with pins and needles.

The blond swallows heavily and those blue eyes trail forward to gaze at a shiny mirror ahead. In that reflection, the blond saw a hideous sight. Long, spiky locks flowed past their shoulders and stopped short of their abdomen. It was repulsive. It filled the blond with so much unease.

The left hand held the shaver while the other reaches for a small comb. The comb is dragged through the blond hair and halted to stop right at chin length. It trembles in place as the person holding it took a deep breath.

The shaver was lifted and pressed against the bottom edge of the comb. The blond's heart hammered and drummed in a frenzy while beads of sweat peppered their forehead.

Just like ripping off a bandaid, the blond flicked their wrist and the electric shaver glided along the comb in one swoop. The hair beneath it was severed from the bottom of the comb and fell to the tiled floor below. It was done. There was no going back now.

The blond didn't spare a glance at the mirror and quickly maneuvered their hands to the opposite side of their hair. The same motions were repeated and more blond hair scattered on the ground. The razor's sound, while hostile in nature, was music to the blond's ears. It brought a sense of euphoria, and the blond couldn't stop.

The shaver was turned around to the back of their head and brought underneath the long hair to the hairline on the neck. With another click sound, the shaver was brought to a higher setting. It plowed through the many layers of hair and chopped off the entirety of its length. The blond held their breath and a smile grazed their face, wrinkling the birthmarks on their cheeks.

Abruptly, the razor was shut off and the blond placed it on the bathroom sink. Almost like a magnetic force, their eyes were pulled toward the mirror; forced to look at what they'd done. The person looking back at them was no longer disgusting or wrong. It was peculiar how a hack job of a haircut somehow filled the blond with ease compared to long flowing locks of spiky hair.

The bright smile only widened when tan hands dragged through the freshly cut hair, happily feeling the gaps and uneven layers. For the first time, their neck was bare and exposed. Goosebumps littered the tan skin, but whether it was from happiness or coldness, the blond did not know. Nor did they care. All the attention was fixed on the mirror. You would've thought the blond was a narcissist by how long they spent analyzing themselves.

They reached out a hand and placed it along the reflection, grinning cheek to cheek. "I look like Naruto."

Naruto. That's what his name is. Oftentimes, in his lonesome, he would be able to own this name for himself. It made him feel comfortable. It was his very own masculine name that he made up.

Nobody called him that though.

To everyone else, he was known as Naruko. No matter how much he insisted to them that his name was Naruto— that he was actually a boy stuck in a girl's body— they never listened. Everyone, even his so-called friends, never even attempted to adjust to the name change at the very least.

Naruto, or as everyone else would say, Naruko, was seen as a tomboy. Ugh. The word itself made Naruto angry. He absolutely hated to be called that.

Stop trying to be one of the guys. You're just a tomboy.

You're such a pretty girl. Why can't you just love your body?

Stop being so complicated. Why are you making life so hard for yourself?