He moved on to the next student; Rintaro’s explanation must’ve done the trick. Chiaki sighed in relief while Tono-kun clasped his hands together apologetically.
Once the boys’ inspection was done, it was time for the girls’. We were called in order by student number, and mine was over quickly and painlessly. A female teacher was always present for the inspections since they often required a close look at the girls’ skirt length. Many girls rolled their waistband to shorten the garment, which gave the fabric odd wrinkles.
“Weren’t you told to redye your hair, Manabe?”
When we were first-years, my classmate Manabe had quickly put herself on the inspection blacklist by dyeing her hair. Even if you only lightened your hair once, the color would still fade after you dyed it back. The inspections took place by the window so the teachers could get a good look at our hair in the sunlight.
“I dyed it black, just like you told me.”
“It still looks brown.”
“I can’t help that. I lightened it before, so it’s fading.”
“Dyeing your hair was against the school dress code in the first place,” the head teacher replied. “If it won’t stay black, you need to cut it short.”
Manabe didn’t accept his comment without a fight. “Why keep picking on me? Hikaru’s hair is lighter than mine!” she shrieked, pointing in my direction.
Her outburst caused a hush to fall over the classroom. I was fully Japanese, but I’d been born with light coloring. My eyes were chestnut, and so was my hair. It was also thin and easily damaged. The longer it grew, the more it faded, so it looked pretty light, especially in the sun.
“That’s Iguchi’s natural hair color,” said the head teacher. “She turned in proof when she started school here.”
We could apply for permission to attend school with light or curly hair if we proved it was natural—for instance, by submitting pictures of ourselves as children. Manabe and I were in the same class last year, so she should already have known that I hadn’t lightened my hair.
“The school code says our hair has to be black, though. Why not make her dye it?” Manabe countered.
“Yeah,” another girl chimed in. “Everyone thinks it’s unfair that only she gets to look like that.”
Other girls joined Manabe’s protest. As the number of dissenters grew, I saw the teachers exchange glances.
“You teachers always play favorites with Hikaru. It’s not fair!”
Just before summer vacation, during the school festival—which was supposed to bring classmates even closer together—I’d found myself squeezed out of Manabe’s inner circle. Our class had opted to do a cross-dressing café, and I joined the costume group with Manabe and some of her friends. I wound up being appointed group leader. Between ordering fabric for costumes and haggling over the café budget with other groups, that time turned out way busier than I could ever have imagined.
Manabe liked secondhand clothing, and she had the sewing skill to alter things herself, so she ended up my partner in crime. We’d look for patterns and comb through magazines together, debating what would work. One day, though, I went looking for Manabe so we could talk about some of the dresses, and I found her outside with Chiaki and the rest of the scenery group. She was the only girl in the group, a lone flower surrounded by the boys.
“I don’t mind if you want to lend us a hand, but aren’t you working on costume group stuff?” Chiaki was asking her.
“It’s fine. I told them I was coming out here to get your measurements. I mean, it’s kind of ridiculous how Hikaru suddenly changed all the costumes anyway. It’s just a school festival. It’s not like we need to put in that much effort…”
Manabe trailed off as Chiaki tapped her on the shoulder. Noticing my presence, she immediately fell silent.
That night, I sent an announcement to the costume team’s group chat. “Since our group got such a late start, I need everybody to focus on their costuming tasks rather than helping any other group.”
Soon after, I got a direct message from Manabe: “If you had a problem with what I did, you should’ve come and talked to me yourself.”
When I replied, she just left me on read.
The festival finally arrived, and the worst-case scenario happened: our cross-dressing café lost to the first-years’ haunted house. Manabe and I hadn’t exchanged a word since then, and the girls she hung out with had ostracized me too. Manabe and her friends were at the top of the class food chain, so the other 2-A girls also started to keep me at arm’s length. Summer vacation had come and gone, but the way I was being treated hadn’t changed one bit.
I’d been standing back, quietly observing the commotion my classmates were causing, and everyone’s eyes shot in my direction as I broke my silence. “It’s against the school code to color your hair, so I’d break it by dyeing my hair black, wouldn’t I? It’d be the same as any of you changing your hair color.” I tried to keep my tone light as I glanced toward the same head teacher who’d approved my hair and uniform just a few minutes earlier. “This is my natural hair color. Do I have to dye it just so it matches everyone else’s?”
The head teacher pressed his lips together tightly, but he said nothing. I stood there, waiting for his answer, but none came.
As impatience got the better of me, I sighed softly. “Whatever. I’m out of here.”
Grabbing my bag, I walked out of the classroom. Chiaki called after me, but I ignored him and let the door shut behind me.