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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I woke to find Kenji staring at me, cradling my head in his hands. It took a moment to piece things together. I was on the floor of the shower, and my face throbbed.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

“I’m not sure,” I said, slurring slightly. “I think someone attacked me.”

Kenji growled, shaking his head as though he could barely keep himself from exploding. “I knew it. I knew one of the others would pull some shit like this. You’re not safe here, Akiko. From now on, you don’t leave my sight.”

I winced and reached for the side of my face where I felt the pain.

“You’ve got a red mark,” Kenji said, leaning closer, inspecting my face as though his glare alone could undo the damage. “I’m guessing that’s where they slapped you.”

“Felt more like a punch,” I muttered.

“Anywhere else hurt?” His hands moved over me in a frenzy, checking for other injuries.

“No, just my face,” I replied, knocking his hands away. “I’m fine, Kenji.”

“Fine? Someone sucker-punched you, Akiko. This was a cheap shot.” His jaw clenched so tightly that I thought his teeth might crack. “Do you remember anything? Anything at all?”

I closed my eyes, trying to sift through my brain fog. “There was someone in the bathroom. I heard them talking to themselves, maybe standing in front of the mirror. Then I peeked out, and bam.”

Kenji’s lip curled in disgust. “It was Jiro.”

“What?” I frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Because he’s obsessed with you, that’s why. He thinks you want him back.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would he think that? And how does wanting me back equate to punching me in the face?”

Kenji shrugged. “He’s an asshole, Akiko. Who knows what goes on in his tiny brain? Plain and simple, he wants you out of this competition. He’s jealous. I could tell earlier when we exchanged words.”

“What words?” My frown deepened. “What did you say?”

“Just that he needs to back off. He didn’t take it well, obviously. I know you think he’s all innocent, but he’s not. He’s dangerous.”

I sighed, trying to process his accusations. The thing was, I couldn’t completely dismiss them. Jiro had been watching me too closely, too often. And that kiss… A mind game? Or something real? I didn’t dare mention it to Kenji; he was already on a witch hunt.

But this? This was different. This wasn’t flirting or subtle manipulation. Someone had actually hit me. Hard. It was a wake-up call. I was a target now, whether I liked it or not.

Kenji helped me to my feet. I wobbled slightly, leaning into him for balance. His arms wrapped around me, and he pressed a kiss to the top of my head, the gesture protective but smothering at the same time.

“Why don’t we head back to the dorms instead of the library?” he suggested. “You could use some rest.”

“No.” I pulled away from him, straightening my uniform. “I can rest after the competition. Right now, I need to prove that I belong here. We’re going to the library.”

Kenji stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re still shaky. Let me take care of you.”

“Kenji, you’ve been great, but you need to stop treating me like a fragile porcelain doll. I can take care of myself.”

“But I can protect you.”

“Kenji,” I said firmly, my voice rising, “I don’t need you to protect me!”

He flinched as though I’d slapped him. But I couldn’t let this continue. I couldn’t be his protection project. Without waiting for a response, I marched out of the bathroom.

“Wait, Akiko, I’m sorry!” Kenji called after me. “I’ll come with you to the library.”

“Please don’t.” I glanced over my shoulder, my tone firm. “I need some time alone right now.”

I walked away without looking back, refusing to give him a sliver of hope he could follow. Some distance would do us both good.

Honestly, I didn’t even feel like going to the library. I was too worked up, angry about getting hit, and frustrated with Kenji’s overbearing behavior. Without my realizing it, my feet carried me past the library and into the maze, where the towering hedges offered a quiet escape.

Left, right, a dead end or two, and I eventually found myself at the four-way intersection with the fountain. I perched on the edge of the circular stone, stretching my legs out. The height of the hedges created the illusion of being someplace else, anywhere but trapped inside the Sakamoto compound.

As I relaxed, the crunch of gravel underfoot reached my ears. Someone was approaching. My first thought was that Kenji was coming to find me. I ducked quickly down one of the pathways, pressing myself against the thick hedges. A few seconds later, Reina appeared, her poised figure passing by the fountain.

What’s she doing here?

The wife of a madman strolling the grounds alone. How could I resist? Without much thought, I followed.

As always, Reina was impeccably dressed, her outfit more suited for a glamorous lunch than a casual walk. A small woven basket hung from her arm, swaying gently with her confident stride. Back straight, chin lifted, she moved with purpose, easily avoiding the maze’s dead ends. Of course, she would know the way; she lived here.

The maze opened into the gardens, and for a moment, I thought Reina was preparing for a solitary picnic. I stayed far back, crouching behind bushes and hiding behind trees. The eerie stillness of the gardens struck me. No birds chirped, no squirrels darted about. Even the koi in the pond had disappeared beneath the surface. It was as though all life had been snuffed out, leaving only Reina and me.

She continued deeper into the gardens, toward a small temple I hadn’t noticed before. I followed, my heart pounding with each step. Spying on Reina was most likely an automatic disqualification from the program, but I couldn’t stop myself.

The temple was serene and beautiful, with open windows on all sides. Reina stepped inside, disappearing from view. I crept closer, using the shrubbery as cover, and peered cautiously through one of the windows. Inside, Reina knelt on a mat before a kamidana, a traditional Shinto altar.

The altar was intricately carved, its dark wood polished to a gleam, and it sat on a pedestal. From her basket, Reina removed her offerings: a bowl of rice, a bottle of sake, and what looked like a red envelope, probably filled with money. She lit three sticks of incense, the thin trails of smoke curling upward, before bowing her head in prayer.

Seeing Reina like this, so vulnerable, so human, was jarring. She was always so composed and untouchable during the challenges. But here, she seemed real. I didn’t realize how intensely I was staring until her voice broke the silence.

“Would you like to light incense and pray, Akiko?”

My heart leaped into my throat. How did she know I was here? Panic surged. I slapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a gasp, my mind racing for an excuse. Surely I had just destroyed my chances in the program.

Reina turned her head, her gaze locking onto mine through the window. “You may as well come in.”

I hesitated, quickly weighing my options. Run and hope she didn’t report me? Or face whatever consequences awaited? After a moment’s pause, I stepped into the temple. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

“Don’t be silly. Come, sit with me.”

I joined her on the mat, folding my legs beneath me. “I’m not very religious,” I admitted.

“Neither am I,” she said, with a faint smile. “But some days, I find my spiritual side calling me.”

We sat silently for a moment, the soft scent of incense filling the air. Then Reina turned to me. Her eyes were warm and searching. “Tell me, Akiko, is the apprenticeship everything you expected?”

Was she genuinely interested, or was she looking for weaknesses? I chose my words carefully. “It’s…challenging,” I said finally. “More than I expected.”

Reina nodded thoughtfully, her gaze never leaving mine. “A challenge, yes. But not one too great for someone as determined as you.” Her eyes studied me. “Focus can be a double-edged sword. It can also make one vulnerable. Don’t you agree?”

The compliment was there, but so was the warning. Vulnerable. Was she praising me or cautioning me? I wasn’t sure. “I think I understand,” I said slowly. “Focus can blind you to other things.”

Kenji’s face flashed in my mind. His obsession with protecting me was starting to distract us from the competition. Maybe Reina was right.

Reina placed a hand on my shoulder. “In this place, everyone is driven, hungry to prove themselves. Sometimes, too hungry.”

The warmth in her eyes disappeared for a fraction of a second, leaving them dark. A second later, the softness returned, like the moment hadn’t even happened.

“I believe in you, Akiko. You’re strong enough to make it to the end. But talent isn’t enough to get you there. You must know whom to trust.” She turned back to the shrine, drawing a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “Now that the pleasantries are out of the way”—Reina’s smile dipped—“I want to know your real thoughts about your time here. There are no wrong answers.”

Could I truly be honest with Chef Sakamoto’s wife? She was the second-most powerful person here. If this was a trap, I’d be digging my own grave.

Reina must have sensed my reluctance. “I don’t involve myself in my husband’s business. Whatever you say will remain between us.”

“Really?” My curiosity got the better of me.

“I’m not a fan of attending the challenges, but he insists. Says it shows solidarity.”

I wasn’t sure if I believed her just yet. “Well… I thought there’d be more training. That we’d be working directly under Chef Sakamoto. Instead, it’s been nothing like that. There’s so much wasted time that could be used productively.”

Reina’s smile didn’t falter. “My husband is stuck in his ways, but they are proven. Every chef who trains under him goes on to have great success. Isn’t that what you want?”

I nodded. “Of course, but we only get a day’s notice for challenges.” I wanted to ask about the purpose of the challenges but held back.

“In the real world, sometimes you have even less. The kitchen is unpredictable; you must learn to solve problems on the spot while staying prepared for the unexpected. Remember what I said: It’s not the points that matter. It’s making it to the end.”

Reina rose gracefully. Watching her, I felt like a child staring up at a mother. “I wish you the best of luck, Akiko,” she said. “I’d love for you to be the first woman to train under my husband.”

She walked toward the temple entrance but stopped just before stepping out. Turning back, she added, “My advice? Study poison.”

And then she was gone.

Her words lingered like the faint scent of incense in the air. Study poison? I whispered the phrase to myself. The very idea made me prickly all over.

Was she warning me about the next challenge?

The words hounded me the more I thought about them. I already knew every challenge here wasn’t what it seemed; there was always a twist that upended expectations. Could this be the same? But what kind of poison? Actual poison, the kind that tainted food, turning a single bite into a death sentence? Or was it metaphorical, a warning about the people around me?

The image of the bathroom came rushing back: the quick, calculated strike that had left me sprawled on the floor. Was that attack the beginning of everyone turning on each other? On me? The thought made my stomach drop.

I touched my cheek, the faint ache still nagging. Whether Reina was talking about poisoned food or a poisoned environment, I couldn’t dismiss it. I had to figure out what she really meant.

“You must know whom to trust.”

That thought echoed through my mind as I made a silent vow: I would watch everyone closely from now on and assume no one here would stop short of winning—not Kenji, not Jiro, and certainly not me. The stakes were too high. I had to be ready. Ready to adapt, ready to spot every lie, every hidden agenda. Whatever poison was brewing in this place, it wouldn’t claim me.

Stepping out of the temple, I scanned the pathways ahead. Reina was nowhere to be seen, but then movement caught my eye. Jiro stood in the distance next to an ishidoro, his gaze locked on me for just a moment before he turned and headed toward the maze.