The weeks that followed established a rhythm that would define Aiko's life for the next several months. Every Saturday at 6:30 AM, she would slip out of her aunt's house like a ghost, moving through the pre-dawn darkness to Mrs. Sato's salon. And every Saturday, she would throw herself into learning with a hunger that seemed to surprise even Mrs. Sato.
"Hair texture analysis," Mrs. Sato said on their fourth session together, guiding Aiko's fingers through sections of a practice mannequin's hair. "Feel the difference between fine and coarse strands. The products you use, the techniques you apply—everything depends on understanding what you're working with."
Aiko closed her eyes, focusing entirely on the sensation beneath her fingertips. She was learning to read hair the way others read books, understanding its history, its needs, its potential through touch alone.
Hana watched from across the salon, her expression unreadable as she prepared for the day's appointments. Over the past month, her open hostility had evolved into something more like grudging tolerance. Aiko had proven herself reliable, careful, and surprisingly quick to learn basic techniques.
"The cuticle damage here suggests chemical over-processing," Aiko said, opening her eyes. "And the way it breaks when I stretch it means the protein structure has been compromised."
"Very good," Mrs. Sato said with approval. "What would you recommend?"
"Deep conditioning treatments with protein fillers, avoiding heat styling, and gradually trimming away the most damaged sections as new growth comes in."
"Exactly. You're developing an eye for this, Aiko."
But hairstyling was only half of Aiko's secret education. Hidden in her attic room, surrounded by textbooks borrowed from the library and notes written in careful, tiny handwriting, she was also preparing for something that felt even more impossible than learning to style hair: the entrance examination for Stellar Academy of Hair Design.
She had discovered the prestigious school during one of her research sessions at the public library. Stellar Academy wasn't just any hairstyling school—it was the most competitive institution in the country, known for producing magazine-featured stylists and international competitors. More importantly, it offered full scholarships through a government-funded program that included campus housing.
The housing component had made her decision instant. If she could somehow pass their entrance exam, she wouldn't just be pursuing her dream—she would be escaping the suffocating prison of her aunt's house.
But the admission requirements were daunting. Stellar Academy expected applicants to demonstrate not just basic hairstyling knowledge, but understanding of hair chemistry, color theory, cultural styling traditions, and advanced techniques that seemed impossibly complex to someone who had been learning for only a few months.
"You're pushing yourself too hard," Mrs. Sato observed during their eighth Saturday session, noticing the dark circles under Aiko's eyes. "Learning takes time. There's no need to rush."
Aiko looked up from the color wheel she'd been studying, trying to memorize the relationships between primary, secondary, and tertiary tones. "I want to be as good as possible as quickly as possible."
"Why the urgency?" Mrs. Sato asked gently.
Aiko hesitated. She hadn't told Mrs. Sato about Stellar Academy, hadn't mentioned her plans to take the entrance exam. The kindly woman had already done so much for her—asking for help with something so ambitious felt like overstepping.
"I just... I want to make the most of this opportunity," she said finally.
Mrs. Sato studied her for a long moment, then nodded. "Very well. But remember—mastery comes from understanding, not memorization. Don't sacrifice depth for speed."
Meanwhile, Hana had begun to notice Aiko's rapid progress with something that looked suspiciously like curiosity.
"How are you learning theory so quickly?" she asked one Saturday, watching Aiko correctly identify the undertones in a complex hair color. "It took me months to understand color theory that well."
"I study a lot at home," Aiko said carefully.
"Study what? We haven't given you any textbooks."
Aiko felt heat rise in her cheeks. "Library books. Online resources. Whatever I can find."
Hana's expression shifted, surprise replacing skepticism. "You're studying hairstyling theory in your free time? On your own?"
"Every night."
"Why?"
It was the same question Mrs. Sato had asked, but coming from Hana, it felt different—less gentle concern, more genuine curiosity about what drove someone to work so hard for something that wasn't guaranteed.
"Because I need to be good at this," Aiko said simply. "Because I need this to be my future."
Something in her tone must have conveyed the desperation she was trying to hide, because Hana's expression softened slightly.
"What kind of future are you imagining?" Hana asked.
Aiko looked around the salon—at the warm lighting, the satisfied clients, the sense of purpose that filled every corner of the space. "I want to help people feel beautiful. I want to understand hair the way your grandmother does, like it's a language she's fluent in. And I want to..." She hesitated, then decided to trust Hana with part of the truth. "I want to go to Stellar Academy."
Hana's eyes widened. "Stellar Academy? That's... that's the most competitive hairstyling school in the country. They only accept the top students from across the entire region."
"I know."
"Their entrance exam is supposed to be incredibly difficult. Most applicants have been studying for years with private tutors and specialized prep courses."
"I know that too."
"And you think you can pass it based on a few months of Saturday morning lessons?"
Aiko met Hana's gaze steadily. "I think I have to try."
For a moment, Hana just stared at her. Then, unexpectedly, she laughed—not mockingly, but with something that sounded almost like admiration.
"You're either incredibly brave or completely delusional," she said. "Maybe both."
"Probably both," Aiko agreed.
Hana shook her head, but she was smiling now. "When is the entrance exam?"
"Three months from now."
"Three months," Hana repeated thoughtfully. "That's not much time to prepare for something like that."
"No, it's not."
Hana was quiet for several minutes, organizing supplies with unnecessary focus. Finally, she looked up.
"I have some advanced textbooks from when I was considering applying to Stellar Academy myself," she said casually. "Before I decided to focus on taking over Grandmother's salon instead. They're just sitting in my room collecting dust."
Aiko's heart jumped. "Would you... could I borrow them?"
"I suppose," Hana said, still maintaining her casual tone. "But only if you promise not to damage them. And only if you understand that having the right books doesn't guarantee anything. Stellar Academy's exam is as much about practical skill as theoretical knowledge."
"I understand."
"Good." Hana paused, then added quietly, "For what it's worth, I think you might actually have a chance. You learn faster than anyone I've ever seen, and you care more than most people ever will. Sometimes that matters more than having every advantage."
That afternoon, Aiko walked home with a bag containing four advanced hairstyling textbooks, her heart pounding with excitement and terror in equal measure. She had three months to master material that most students spent years learning. It seemed impossible.
But as she climbed the ladder to her attic room and spread the books across her small desk, she thought about the boy at the park, about the transformation she'd felt under his gentle hands. He had believed she was worth the effort when she couldn't believe it herself.
Now it was time to prove him right.
Three months to change her entire life. She had better get started.