Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by George Lucas. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: This isn't the type of fic you'd be expecting around Valentine's Day, but don't worry. You can expect at least one Valentine-related fic soon. I simply got bored and wrote this last night. :)

~ The Braid ~

Snip, snip.

The brown chunks fell around him in a flurry, reminding him very much of the dust storms on Tatooine – flying everywhere, getting everywhere. Except this wasn't sand. This was hair. The effect was still the same, though.

He squirmed, shouted, punched. He would do anything to get away. He had to get away before this insane man made him bald.

"Geesh, how much do you have to cut off?"

"As much as it takes for you to look like me," Obi-Wan said, and it wasn't the least bit reassuring. He gripped Anakin's arm with his free hand, restraining him. "Calm down or I might accidentally shave it all off."

Anakin was actually going to look like him? Though he had to admit, Obi-Wan did look better now that he had cut off that silly braid, his shaved head wasn't at all appealing, not after Anakin had lived his whole life without a real hair cut. Sure, his mother had trimmed it every once in a while, but he had never had it shaved off.

"But I don't want to look like you. I liked my hair the way it was before. I'll look ridiculous with it all cut off."

"You'll look fine."

Anakin brushed a few strands of hair off of his shirt. It reminded him of the aftermath of the dust storms – sand in places he didn't want it. His mother used to drag him inside and force him to take a long shower, making sure he scrubbed all of the sand out of his hair, and from in between the crevices of his body. Then she would soak his clothes and scrub them, too. She hated the sand. He had always wondered why she had decided to raise him on Tatooine in the first place. It was the sandiest place he could think of.

"Why do you have to do this?" he asked, more as an after-thought. He simply hadn't thought to ask before. He'd been too busy whining and arguing against it.

"It is a Jedi custom. All new padawans must cut their hair and grow a braid," Obi-Wan cut off another large chunk of hair before he turned on the razor and began evening out the ends, "but it seems like your hair is already long enough to make a braid."

"A braid?" His worst fear had been realized. He not only had to shave off all of his hair, but he had to wear a stupid braid? That would make him look like a girl, not a Jedi!

"Yes, a braid," Obi-Wan assured him. "But don't worry. You'll grow quite fond of it, I promise." Anakin had to strain to hear him over the buzz of the razor. "If you wanted to, you could interpret this as a coming of age moment. You're growing up, Ani."

"You can call me Anakin, you know. I think I would like that better. It makes me sound... grown up."

Obi-Wan chuckled. "Of course."

Anakin actually sat still for once, watching as the clumps of hair – growing smaller by the minute – spiraled around him, until finally the buzzing noise stopped. When Obi-Wan handed him a mirror, he was hesitant to take it. He'd lived his whole life with long hair. Would he look like an entirely different person? Maybe Obi-Wan was right. Maybe this new hair cut would make him look older. That could be a good thing, he guessed.

He finally took the mirror and held it up in front of his face. The boy that stared back at him didn't look that different from his usual self. He could see his face better, that was for sure. He liked to think that short hair made him look older. Maybe Padmé would think so too. He would be seeing her soon. It might be the last time he ever saw her, and he would want her to remember him as... well, as more than just some little kid. She was special to him. He wanted to be her equal.

It took him a moment to notice the braid tucked behind his right ear. Obi-Wan had been right. He'd had more than enough hair to make a braid out of. Now that he had one, he didn't think it looked too bad. It would take some getting used to, of course, but it certainly didn't make him look like a girl. At least, he didn't think it did. But what would Padmé think?

"Does this mean I have to call you 'master' now?"

Obi-Wan laughed again. He'd been doing that a lot more lately, Anakin had noticed. When they'd first arrived on Coruscant he'd been too sad to laugh. He'd spent more time cooped up in his room at the Jedi temple than spending time with Anakin. Now it seemed like things were finally taking a turn in the right direction.

"I'm afraid so," he said with a smile. "I know this is all new to you, Anakin, but I promise you'll get used to it."

"I know I will," Anakin agreed. He had to agree. Before he'd left home, his mom had told him to always stay positive. Qui-Gon Jinn had given him an incredible opportunity by making him a Jedi. He should be respectful and accept whatever came his way. "I have a question."

"You do?"

"Yes."

Obi-Wan may not like his question, but he had to know. If he was going to walk out there in front of millions of people and stand beside Padmé, the most beautiful girl in the world, then he had to know the truth, no matter how painful it may be.

"Does this braid... Does it make me look like a girl?"

Obi-Wan tried his best not to smile, but Anakin saw through his fake look of determination. "No, no, not at all. You look like a Jedi."

"Really?" He wasn't sure if Obi-Wan was being honest with him. It seemed like he was hiding something. "Tell me the truth, because I definitely don't want to look like a girl in front of..."

"In front of whom?" Obi-Wan asked, raising an eyebrow.

Why did he have to say that? Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Well... in front of Padmé! She's so pretty, and I'm afraid she might think I look like a girl. Do you think she will?"

Obi-Wan paused and stroked his chin. Anakin wondered what he was thinking about. "If I know anything about Padmé Amidala, it's that she has a very refined fashion sense. I'm sure she will respect our Jedi customs and find your padawan braid quite attractive, Anakin."

"Wow, really?"

The way Obi-Wan had said it was more than enough to convince Anakin. He just had to be right.

"Yes, of course." He continued to stroke his chin, making Anakin wonder if he really was right about Padmé.

"What are you thinking about?" Anakin finally had the courage to ask.

The smile that Obi-Wan had been struggling to hide finally peeked through; he simply couldn't hide it any longer. Something was obviously amusing him.

"It's just... When I first became a padawan, all I bothered to ask my master was "when do we get to go on another adventure?" But all you seem to think about is Padmé. Does my padawan already have his first crush?"

"Ugh, you're so embarrassing!" Anakin felt warmth flood his cheeks. "Of course that's not all I think about! I was just about to ask you... When do we get to go on an adventure?"

Obi-Wan was still smiling. "Oh, sure you were."

"But I was!"

After all the times he'd heard the words "no attachments," Anakin had expected Obi-Wan to disagree with his attraction to Padmé, but if he did, he didn't say anything about it. Instead, he ruffled his hair and smirked. "Come on, let's get you dressed for the ceremony."

Maybe things weren't going to be as bad as he'd thought they would be. Obi-Wan seemed nice enough. He understood him. And he had said Anakin's braid didn't make him look like a girl. Compared to Yoda, Obi-Wan was as close to "cool" as a Jedi Master could get.

At least that was what he thought until Obi-Wan made him clean his room and brush his teeth.