Five days after the initial exam, Aiko stood in Mrs. Sato's salon holding an envelope that had arrived with the morning mail. The return address bore the elegant Stellar Academy logo, and her hands trembled slightly as she turned it over.
"Well?" Mrs. Sato asked gently, pausing in her preparation for the day's first client. "Don't keep me in suspense."
Aiko tore open the envelope and unfolded the crisp letterhead. Her eyes scanned the formal language quickly, searching for the crucial words that would determine her future.
"I passed," she breathed, hardly believing what she was reading. "They want me to come back for the advanced practical examination."
Mrs. Sato's face lit up with pride. "I knew it. What does the letter say about the next phase?"
Aiko read aloud: "Congratulations on successfully completing the initial assessment. You are invited to participate in the advanced practical examination, which will test your ability to handle complex technical challenges under pressure. This phase will take place next Friday and will determine final admissions to Stellar Academy."
The relief was overwhelming, but it was quickly followed by a new wave of anxiety. She had made it through the first round, but the advanced exam would be even more challenging, with higher stakes and presumably more skilled competition.
"The advanced exam is typically much smaller," Mrs. Sato explained. "They probably started with over a hundred applicants and narrowed it down to maybe twenty or thirty for this phase. You're in elite company now."
That Friday, Aiko arrived at Stellar Academy to find a noticeably reduced group of applicants waiting in the preparation area. She spotted Yuki and Kenta immediately—both looked nervous but determined, their tool kits pristine and their posture radiating the confidence that came from having survived the first round.
"Aiko!" Yuki called out, waving her over. "I can't believe we all made it through. This is so exciting!"
"And terrifying," Kenta added with a nervous laugh. "Did you see the requirements for today? They're expecting us to handle 'complex corrective procedures' with minimal guidance."
The examiner who briefed them was different from the previous week—a younger woman with striking purple hair and an air of creative intensity that immediately commanded attention.
"Welcome to the advanced practical examination," she announced to the group. "Today, you'll be working with models who have significant hair challenges that require both technical skill and creative problem-solving. You'll have four hours to complete a full transformation, and you'll be expected to document your process and reasoning throughout."
Aiko felt her stomach clench. Four hours was longer than the previous exam, but the emphasis on "transformation" suggested they'd be dealing with seriously problematic hair that would test the limits of their abilities.
When she was led to her station, Aiko's heart sank. Her assigned model was a young woman whose hair told a story of multiple chemical disasters—sections that had been over-bleached to the point of severe damage, areas where previous color corrections had gone wrong, and an overall texture that looked almost crispy from heat damage.
"This is going to be a challenge," she murmured to herself, beginning her analysis. The damage was so extensive that any aggressive treatment could cause the hair to break off entirely.
At the station next to her, she could see Kenta setting up his supplies with methodical precision. His model had different but equally challenging issues—what appeared to be a badly grown-out undercut with multiple color zones that created an unflattering contrast effect.
"The key with severely damaged hair," Aiko began, speaking to the examining panel as she worked, "is to prioritize hair health over dramatic results. We need to focus on restoration first, transformation second."
She began with a deep conditioning treatment, working carefully through sections to assess which areas might be salvageable and which would need to be removed entirely. The process was painstaking, requiring constant evaluation and adjustment as she discovered the full extent of the damage.
An hour into the exam, she was ready to begin the most critical phase—applying a gentle color to even out the tone while simultaneously treating the chemical damage. She had mixed a custom formula that would deposit color while adding protein and moisture to the compromised hair structure.
But as she began applying the mixture, something went wrong.
The color was developing too quickly, too intensely. Instead of the subtle tonal correction she had planned, the hair was taking on an uneven, splotchy appearance that looked worse than when she had started.
Panic flooded her system. In her nervousness, she had miscalculated the processing time needed for hair this damaged. The porosity was so uneven that some sections were grabbing color immediately while others remained resistant.
"Stop," a calm voice said beside her. Kenta had noticed her distress and abandoned his own work to assess her situation. "Don't panic. This can be fixed."
"I messed up the formula," Aiko whispered, mortified. "It's processing unevenly and I don't know how to correct it."
"Yes, you do," Kenta said firmly. "Think about what's happening chemically. The damaged sections are more porous, so they're absorbing color faster. What do you need to do to slow that process?"
His intervention drew the attention of the examining panel, who watched with interest as one student helped another in the middle of a competitive exam.
Aiko forced herself to think through the problem systematically, the way Mrs. Sato had trained her. "I need to remove the color from the over-processed sections and apply a filler to even out the porosity before trying again."
"Exactly. You have the skills to fix this. Don't let nerves make you forget everything you know."
With Kenta's encouragement, Aiko began the corrective process. It was more time-consuming than her original plan, but she worked methodically, removing the uneven color, treating the porosity issues, and then reapplying a adjusted formula that would work with the hair's actual condition rather than fighting against it.
The final result wasn't the dramatic transformation she had initially envisioned, but it was honest, healthy, and beautiful in its simplicity. Her model's hair looked clean, even-toned, and well-cared-for—exactly what someone with severe chemical damage needed.
"That was excellent problem-solving," one of the examiners noted as she documented her final results. "Recovery from technical difficulties is often more telling than perfect execution from the start."
As they cleaned their stations, Aiko turned to Kenta with deep gratitude. "Thank you for helping me. I know this is a competition, but—"
"It's not that kind of competition," Kenta interrupted with a warm smile. "We're all here because we want to be professional stylists. Real professionals help each other succeed, especially when someone is struggling with a technical challenge."
"Besides," Yuki added, joining their conversation, "what you did in the end was really impressive. Most students would have panicked completely and made the problem worse."
Walking out of the academy that afternoon, Aiko felt a different kind of exhaustion than after the first exam. She had faced a serious setback and had managed to recover from it, but more importantly, she had experienced the support of fellow students who understood that their shared passion for the craft was more important than individual competition.
Whatever the results of this exam, she had learned something valuable about the kind of professional she wanted to become—someone who could solve problems under pressure and support others in their moments of crisis.
The letter with the final results would arrive within a week. Until then, all she could do was wait and hope that her recovery from the mistake had demonstrated the resilience and problem-solving skills that Stellar Academy was looking for.
But regardless of the outcome, she was no longer the same person who had approached Mrs. Sato's salon months ago asking for a chance to learn. She was becoming someone who could handle challenges with grace and help others do the same.
That transformation was worth more than any acceptance letter.