Red Hair In One Piece Novels & Stories

March 1965] My hands are sweaty as I hold onto my best friend Emmy. I’m glad I just got my hair styled with that new relaxer, the cut neatly curled into a chin-length bob. When people see me, my red hair is always a shock. Nobody expects a colored girl like me with skin the deep shade of chocolate to have bright red hair and green eyes. “Too pretty for a girl like you,” is what most of them say.

He leaves the room and doesn’t look at me when he does. I pick up the dress. It’s emerald green, has a sweetheart neckline, and goes mid-thigh. I have no underwear and a bra, so I guess I will go commando. I laugh—the irony of being locked in a house with the old alpha that killed my whole pack. I should try to kill him now. I fix my hair and look in the mirror. My red hair is shining through my previously brown hair, making me happy. I always loved my red hair but decided to color it when I was young to avoid the attention.

Maybe make a joke about how it belonged to me. But that would make her laugh some other time. As I steadily got to work on her hair, I felt her whole body’s tension slipping. To help restore her back to her undeniable beauty was a fucking privilege. With her eyes closed I could stare at her unashamedly, gently working the tangles and admiring the hundreds of different shades of red that make up her hair. Threads of golden blonde to the darkest, shimmering burnt copper. Utterly unique, just like her. When it was finally untangled and flowing my damaged arm was in pure agony. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop the moment.

I had thought, based on the color in the box, that it was going to come out as some bright, maybe even slightly trashy, purple, but instead, it was a deep, rich red. A gorgeous, vibrant crimson color, giving her this fierce, confident look, that crimson werewolf alpha girlfriend look, the kind you see in movies. The mafia heiress kind of thing, someone who belonged in this world but on her own terms. "It looks good, baby," I said, smiling, watching her stand up and shake her ass playfully for me, her new red hair bouncing around her shoulders. "I actually want to change mine," I said then, the thought popping into my head, feeling surprisingly defensive about my own plain hair.

Raya said, looking at me as her eyes widened. "Your hair!" She screamed as the twins looked up at me suddenly. Their eyes widened at my hair. They had all been too busy arguing to realize my hair was a different color. "Yeah.." I drawled shyly as they faced me. Camilla touched it to be sure she was actually seeing it. "It's red? How? Did you dye it?" She asked as Raya and Carmen stepped curiously towards me. "No. It just changed." I responded as they looked at me like I had grown another head.

I followed to look in that direction and it was the one person I spent all day trying to convince myself was a bad idea This was the right one. It wasn't the right color though but I still didn't mind. Red was my favourite colour on her, it did something to her eyes and brought out the pale of her skin and it just made her hair pop even more. But this purple piece still did wonders, I couldn't see the bottom since she had on Jean shorts with ragged edges but somehow she still looked hot. I don't think she knows how much everybody looks at her when she walks into a place.

I need to smell the clothes, I need to know if it was her scent on it. If it’s hers’, then I’m sure Pyra was really dead. But what would explain the red-haired in the picture in Maverick’s chambers? Is it that it’s another person with red hair so similar to Pyra’s? I shook my head at that thought. Someone having red hair was very rare. It was almost unheard of.

My gaze landed on Mom first but I didn't think it was from her, I was still doubting until my gaze landed on Julianne carrying a red curl. "Red hair?" I blinked rapidly, my mind spinning as I tried to process what I was seeing. “Since when has she been carrying that hair colour?” my jaw dropped, had I really just seen Julianne with hair the colour of a burning flame? It seemed impossible, yet I couldn't deny what I had seen. My mind was still reeling when I spotted a guard walking past and I knew I had to ask for confirmation. "I need your help!" I called out, my voice sounding more urgent than I intended.

A redhead that’s not hot as hell, gets her hair colour from a bottle as well. But this is not fake. This is her hair colour for real. Blonde with a ‘dangerous’ shade of red. But even if it is not from a bottle, she absolutely has to contain herself. Behave. Keep control, even if her body is on sudden a pace of it’s own! This is a farm. They are part of a small community. Here is no place for one-night stands or short-lived affairs. And what’s more. There is absolutely no use to fall head over heal again for the wrong man again.

Here I was, mad enough to skin an elk with my bare teeth, and my best friend was laughing it up. “That’s not her hair; it’s a hairpiece.” Why that should fill my bleeding heart with glee is anyone’s guess. I rushed back to her side, anger all but forgotten. “How do you know?” I’ve turned myself into one of those females. “I forget how green you are sometimes; it’s obvious. First, it’s not an exact match to her natural hair color and texture, and second, no one’s hair looks like that.” “Don’t make fun of me; I’ve been living in a cave, remember.” Okay, so I don’t know anything about hair pieces and such.