The Villainess's Journey To Heroism

Chapter 12: At the Agency

Hina's POV

The air crackled with anticipation, a symphony of nervous energy and excited chatter.  I, Scarlet, stood at the edge of the bustling training room.  This was it.  My first day as an intern at Best Jeanist's agency.  I'd heard whispers about the man, the fashion hero, the strict disciplinarian.  But I was ready.  I was determined to prove myself, to learn from the best.

Suddenly, a booming voice cut through the chatter.  "Alright, rookies!  Gather round!"  A tall, imposing figure strode into the room, his perfectly tailored suit radiating an aura of authority.  Best Jeanist.  His presence commanded attention, his every movement exuding a quiet confidence.

I swallowed nervously, adjusting my cloak.  He surveyed the group of interns, his gaze sharp and piercing.  "Welcome to the Best Jeanist agency.  You've all been chosen for a reason.  You have the potential to become great heroes.  But potential is nothing without hard work, dedication, and a willingness to learn."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the room.  "I expect nothing less than excellence from each and every one of you.  This is not a playground.  This is a crucible where heroes are forged.  Are you ready to be tested?"

A chorus of "Yes, sir!" reverberated through the room.  Except for one.

A young man with spiky blonde hair and a scowl etched on his face stood at the back of the group, his arms crossed, his eyes narrowed.  He radiated an aura of defiance, a palpable tension crackling around him.

"You there, with the explosive personality," Best Jeanist said, his voice calm but firm.  "What's your name?"

The blonde boy snorted.  "Bakugou.  Katsuki Bakugou."

Best Jeanist nodded, his gaze unwavering.  "Bakugou, I've heard good things about you.  A powerful Quirk, a fiery spirit.  But I'm not here to play games.  I'm here to train heroes.  Are you ready to learn?"

Bakugou's scowl deepened.  "I don't need to learn from anyone," he growled, his voice laced with arrogance.  "I'm already a hero.  I'm the best there is."

Best Jeanist’s lips twitched, a hint of amusement in his eyes.  "We'll see about that, Bakugou.  Now, let's get started."

Later

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.  It wasn't the usual training session chaos, but the kind of quiet, simmering tension that comes with a master stylist working on a client who absolutely hates the process.  The client, in this case, was Katsuki Bakugou, and the master stylist was none other than Best Jeanist.

Bakugou sat stiffly in the chair, his face a mask of annoyance.  His normally spiky blonde hair was being meticulously straightened, molded, and shaped by Best Jeanist's skilled hands.  The hero's usual scowl was even more pronounced, his eyes narrowed in a glare that could melt steel.

"Hold still, Bakugou," Best Jeanist said calmly, his voice a soothing balm in the tense atmosphere.  "This is a crucial step in the process.  We need to create a sense of flow, of movement, of…well, you know, the whole 'Best Jeanist' aesthetic."

Bakugou grunted, his voice barely a whisper.  "This is ridiculous.  I'm a hero, not a fashion model.  I don't need my hair styled."

Best Jeanist ignored him, his fingers deftly working through Bakugou's hair.  "Of course you do, Bakugou.  It's all about image, about presentation.  You want to inspire people, to make a statement.  And what better way to do that than with a perfectly styled look?"

I, Scarlet, couldn't help but stifle a laugh.  Bakugou's expression was priceless, a blend of annoyance, frustration, and a hint of…was that embarrassment?  I had to cover my mouth to keep from erupting into full-blown laughter.

Bakugou caught my eye, his glare intensifying.  "What's so funny, Scarlet?" he growled.  "You think this is a joke?"

I shook my head, trying to control my laughter.  "No, Bakugou, it's just…well, you look…funny."

He glared at me, but I could see a flicker of amusement in his eyes.  He was trying to hold it in, but I knew he was enjoying this just as much as I was.

Best Jeanist, ever the professional, continued his work, seemingly oblivious to the silent battle of wills unfolding between his two interns.  "There," he said finally, stepping back to admire his handiwork.  "A masterpiece.  A work of art.  A testament to the power of fashion."

Bakugou looked in the mirror, his expression a mixture of disbelief and annoyance.  "What…what is this?" he sputtered.  "My hair looks like a…a…a…a wig!"

Best Jeanist smiled, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement.  "It's a statement, Bakugou.  A bold, daring statement.  It's…well, it's Best Jeanist."

Bakugou opened his mouth to protest, but then he caught sight of me.  I was doubled over, my laughter erupting in a torrent of giggles.  I couldn't help it.  Bakugou looked…well, he looked ridiculous.  His hair was perfectly straight, sleek, and shiny, but it was also styled in a way that was completely out of character.  It was like a parody of his usual spiky look, a flamboyant, almost theatrical statement.

Bakugou's glare shifted from Best Jeanist to me, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes.  "What's so funny, Scarlet?" he growled.  "You think this is a joke?"

I shook my head, still laughing.  "No, Bakugou, it's just look bad on you."

He glared at me, but I could see a hint of a smile playing on his lips.  He was trying to hold it in, but I knew he was enjoying this just as much as I was.

Best Jeanist, ever the master of the situation, turned to me, his smile a mischievous glint in his eyes.  "Scarlet, your turn.  Let's see what we can do with your hair."

My laughter died instantly.  I knew what was coming.  Best Jeanist had a reputation for his unorthodox styling choices, and he always seemed to enjoy pushing the boundaries of fashion.  I had a feeling that whatever he was about to do to my hair was going to be…interesting.

He started with a few gentle strokes, his fingers moving through my hair with a practiced ease.  But then, he began to work his magic, twisting, braiding, and shaping my hair into something that was…well, it was definitely not something I would wear to a normal event.

I felt a wave of panic wash over me as I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror.  My hair was no longer the simple, flowing style I was used to.  It was now a complex, intricate masterpiece of braids, twists, and knots, a chaotic explosion of crimson curls and strands that defied gravity.

Best Jeanist stepped back, his smile wide and satisfied.  "There.  A work of art.  A statement of power, of individuality, of…well, you know, the whole 'Best Jeanist' aesthetic."

I stared at my reflection, speechless.  It was like I was looking at a stranger.  My hair was a tangled mess, a chaotic explosion of crimson, a complete departure from my usual style.

And then, I heard it.  A sound that sent a shiver down my spine.  It was Bakugou, and he was laughing.  He was laughing at me.

I turned to him, my face a mixture of shock and annoyance.  "What's so funny, Bakugou?" I asked, my voice laced with a hint of irritation.  "You think this is a joke?"

Bakugou's laughter only intensified.  "Oh, Scarlet," he said, his voice dripping with amusement.  "You look…ridiculous."

I glared at him, my cheeks burning with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.  But deep down, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement.  Bakugou's laughter was infectious, and I couldn't help but grin.

Nobody's POV

Best Jeanist watched the scene unfold with a knowing smile.  He had created a masterpiece, not just of hair, but of chaos, of tension, of unexpected laughter.  He had brought together two very different heroes, and in doing so, he had created a bond, a rivalry, a connection that was as unpredictable as it was entertaining.