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Starlight twinkled through the window into Yachi's dimly lit room. She carefully brushed her friend's hair as if she were a painting crafting a masterpiece with each stroke. "Oh, wow," she sighed. The playing on her that they've seen a thousand times over muted. "I can't believe how long your hair has gotten!"
Her friend shifted, inching away from her praise, ". . .yeah, I guess."
"It's so pretty! I'm so jealous!" Her voice squealed as she reached for her box of accessories, "how do you want me to style it?"
Their thoughts were drowned out by the clattering of Yachi rummaging through her belongings. An image of a man with short hair flashed on the screen. They remembered perfectly, able to repeat it word for word. This character was one they admired greatly, they always pictured themselves looking just like that when they grew up. But now, they wondered if that were even possible.
"Um," a lock of hair wrapped around their finger like ribbon. "Could you just cut it?" They blurted their thought out, it felt more like a purge than a suggestion. It was a thought that had to escape, needed to.
Yachi didn't question it, she never did. She smiled, pulled out the scissors, and began cutting. Every strand the fell felt like an enormous weight being pulled from them. She wrapped her arms around her friend as they examined her masterpiece in the mirror. "It looks so cute! Short suits you."
It was strange, they never noticed how colorful their cheeks were before. It was blush. Nor was it the dull, washed out skin they were used to. They felt warm for the first time. They felt like the reflection in the mirror was truly them.
Even though only a few years had passed in reality, that evening felt like eons ago. They looked at their friend smiling up at them, they were able to return a smile just as bright.
"Tadashi," they choked out nervously.
Yachi grinned, "that's such a good name! You always looked like a Tadashi," she giggled. She pulled her friend in for an embrace.