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CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

A jarring noise tore me out of sleep, my heart pounding as I shot upright. For a brief moment, I thought someone was trying to break into my room again. My eyes darted to the chair. It was still safely lodged under the doorknob. Relief came in a heavy exhale.

“Wake up!” a harsh voice yelled, accompanied by rapid pounding on the door. Iron Face.

“Wake up! Your next challenge is ready for you!”

Challenge? I fumbled for my watch. The glowing numbers read 6:30 a.m. Why so early? Iron Face went down the hall, banging loudly on every door. When he reached Kenji’s, the thudding echoed like a war drum.

I scrambled to change into my uniform and stepped out of my room just as Jiro did.

“I didn’t think Iron Face could be any more of an ass,” Jiro muttered, clearly irritated. He gestured toward the end of the hall, where Iron Face was now banging a wooden spoon against the bottom of a wok, creating the metallic clanging noise that had yanked me out of dreamland.

Kenji emerged a moment later, fumbling with the belt on his uniform and looking half-asleep.

“Follow me. Your next challenge begins now!” Iron Face barked, already marching down the hallway.

Kenji trailed behind him, his head down. As he passed Jiro and me, he didn’t snarl or glare like usual. Was it possible my encounter with him last night was a turning point?

I hadn’t had a chance to tell Jiro about my run-in with Kenji, so I grabbed his arm, slowing him down.

“I spoke to Kenji last night about the plan.”

“How?”

“It’s not important, but he’s in. We all work together.”

The cold bit through my uniform as we trudged through the early-morning chill. I hugged myself tightly, shivering as we approached the clearing where the last challenge occurred.

Then I saw it. Something that looked like an oversize shipping container, its steel walls glinting under the faint morning light.

Iron Face stopped before the container, straightening as he turned to us with a flourish, like a circus ringmaster revealing the main attraction. “Your challenge today is Kori no Oooooooori,” he said, drawing out the word with dramatic flair.

Cage of Ice. He’s becoming cleverer with his names.

The steel doors groaned as Iron Face pulled them open, revealing a rush of freezing air. Inside, the walls, floor, and ceiling were slabs of glistening ice, reminding me of an ice bar I had once visited. Three rectangular blocks of ice stood in the center. It was clear we’d be carving something out of them.

Jiro let out a low whistle. “Guess we’re freezing our asses off today.”

Iron Face’s smirk deepened. “Work together. Use your creativity to think outside the box,” he said. “Impress Chef Sakamoto.” Iron Face gestured for us to enter.

We exchanged wary glances, but there was no point in stalling. Jiro led the way, followed by Kenji and then me. The moment we were all inside, the doors slammed shut with a resounding clang, sealing us in.

I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, trying to stave off the chill as I walked toward one of the ice blocks. It stood almost as tall as my chest, its surface slick and clear.

“So, we carve something…like a swan?” Kenji said, running his hand over the icy surface. “He was very ambiguous with his directions. So unlike Iron Face.”

“Iron Face said to impress Chef Sakamoto,” I said. “To think outside the box. I’m guessing nothing that screams typical, like a swan.”

“I don’t know how to carve anything,” Kenji said. “What about you guys?”

“I have a little experience,” I said, “but I don’t think it’ll impress Chef Sakamoto. What about you, Jiro?”

He shook his head. “Looks like we follow your lead, Akiko.”

“Where are the tools?” Kenji asked as he circled his block.

“That must be the twist,” Jiro said. “We’re supposed to carve without tools.”

“That’s idiotic,” Kenji snapped. “Do they really expect us to carve a block of ice into something with our bare hands?”

While Jiro and Kenji complained to each other, I moved toward one of the ice walls, running my fingers over its frosted surface as I walked. Something caught my eye, a faint outline embedded deep in the ice. I rubbed away the frost and gasped.

“Hey, guys! Over here!” I pointed at the wall. “Look. It’s a chisel and a hammer!”

The tools were frozen solid, encased in at least a foot of ice.

“How the hell are we supposed to get them out?” Kenji asked, his voice tinged with frustration. “This wall’s thicker than a glacier.”

“Maybe there are more tools hidden around,” Jiro suggested. “Let’s split up and search.”

We scoured every inch of the icy room. The walls, the floor, even the ceiling, but the only tools were the ones I’d found. We regrouped, staring at the ice-locked chisel and hammer in silence.

“This is so dumb,” Kenji said, his voice rising. “Are we supposed to stand here breathing hot air onto the ice until it melts?”

“Iron Face did say we needed to work together,” I said.

“I bet that’s the key to this challenge,” Jiro added. “But instead of hot air, rubbing our hands over it might work better. Come on, let’s try it.”

The three of us pressed our hands against the ice, rubbing back and forth to create friction. The ice became slicker, but progress was excruciatingly slow. My hands went numb within minutes.

“This is useless,” Kenji muttered, pulling back. “There has to be another way.”

Before anyone could respond, a hissing sound filled the room. I glanced up and saw sprinklers embedded in the container’s ceiling. They sprang to life, dousing the icy ceiling and outer walls in water.

“What the hell?” Jiro shouted. “Are they trying to help us, or?—”

A deep groan echoed through the room, cutting him off. The ceiling above us shifted slightly, sending chills rippling through my body.

“They’re not helping,” I said, my voice shaking. “The water’s melting the walls. It’s destabilizing the ceiling.”

“Holy crap,” Jiro whispered. “If that ceiling collapses…”

“We’ll be crushed,” Kenji finished.

My heart pounded as the full weight of the challenge hit me. The tools, the carving—it was all a distraction. The real challenge wasn’t about ice sculptures.

“Guys, forget the tools,” I said, stepping back from the wall. “The challenge isn’t about carving anything. It’s about escaping this cage of ice.”

The groaning of the ceiling above us didn’t leave much time for contemplation.

Jiro nodded slowly. “She’s right. We’ve been focusing on the wrong thing. The question isn’t what they want us to carve; it’s how we’re expected to survive.”

The doubt in Kenji’s eyes told me he wasn’t entirely on board. “Are you suggesting we continue rubbing our hands over the tools?”

“No, you idiot. Clearly, we need to brainstorm another idea,” Jiro said.

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Kenji walked up to Jiro, chest puffed out, fists balled.

“Guys! Guys! Stop it!” I shouted, coming between them and using my arms to push them apart. “This is what they want. They want us to turn on each other. But remember what Iron Face said. We need to work together.”

I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on the three massive ice blocks. The pieces started to come together in my mind. “What if the blocks aren’t just there to carve? What if they’re meant to…hold the ceiling up?”

Jiro’s eyes widened as realization dawned. “Like support columns. If we stack them, they could stabilize the ceiling. At the very least, give us a safe zone underneath.”

Kenji let out a laugh. “You want to build a structure out of these giant blocks? Do you know how heavy they are? We can’t even lift them!”

“Not by hand.” Jiro’s gaze darted toward the belts on our uniforms. “But we can use these as straps. I’ve seen it done before. We can rig a way to lift the blocks.”

Kenji hesitated, mulling over Jiro’s suggestion. “Fine. Let’s do it.”

Just then, the longer metal sides of the container fell onto the ground, exposing the ice room. A support structure held up the container’s ceiling, which still sprayed water down on the ice. The only difference now was that we had an audience. Chef Sakamoto, Reina, and Iron Face were watching from the other side of the ice.

“As if we needed the added pressure,” Jiro said. “I’m surprised they’re not sharing a large bowl of popcorn.”

The ceiling groaned again, reminding us we were running out of time.

We quickly removed our belts and fashioned them into makeshift straps. Jiro crouched by one of the blocks, slipping the belt underneath and securing it tightly. With a grunt of effort, he heaved the block onto his back, using the straps to distribute the weight.

“See? No problem,” Jiro said through gritted teeth as he shuffled toward the second block. He rose onto his tiptoes, carefully aligning the first block on top of the second. The ice wobbled precariously before settling into place.

“That’s two,” Jiro said, stepping back. “Now for the third.”

“That’s the problem,” Kenji said, gesturing to the stacked blocks. “There’s no way we can lift the last block that high. Not with the tools we’ve got.”

My mind raced. There had to be another solution. “What if we didn’t stack them straight up? What if we leaned them against each other, like a pyramid? It wouldn’t need to touch the ceiling completely, just enough to deflect the weight if it collapses.”

Kenji’s face lit up. “Sort of like an igloo. That could work.”

“Then let’s move!” Jiro shouted.

The three of us hurried to reposition the blocks, tilting them into a triangular formation. The ice ceiling and walls groaned and shifted as we worked, but we managed to wedge the blocks into place. The triangle wasn’t perfect, but it was stable enough to provide a small space in the center.

“It’s not much,” I said, stepping back to survey our work. “But it’ll have to do.”

Another loud crack echoed through the room, followed by a cascade of ice chunks falling from the ceiling. One piece narrowly missed Kenji, shattering on the floor beside him.

“Get under!” Jiro yelled, shoving me toward the opening.

I scrambled inside, pressing myself against one of the blocks. Jiro followed, pulling Kenji in after him. For us all to fit, I ended up being sandwiched between them, our bodies practically molded together. I felt Jiro’s and Kenji’s every movement, every breath pressed upon me. Odd was the best way I could describe it. But it was better than being crushed.

The ceiling let out a low groan. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the impact.

And then it came down.

The sound was deafening—a cacophony of cracking ice and thunderous booms, echoing like cannons. The structure jolted as the ceiling caved in above us. Chunks of ice slammed into the floor with resounding thuds.

When the noise finally stopped, I opened my eyes to find Jiro and Kenji staring at me, their faces pale and stunned. Above us, the triangular formation of ice blocks had held. Large chunks of the ceiling rested on the outside, but we were safe.

“We did it,” I whispered, hardly able to believe it. “We survived.”

Kenji let out a shaky laugh. “Holy shit. I can’t believe that actually worked.”

To my surprise, Kenji planted a quick kiss on my cheek, which prompted Jiro to pull me in for a hug and kiss my other cheek.

“Good thinking, Akiko,” he said.

We crawled out from under the shelter, taking in the wreckage around us. The walls of the ice room had collapsed completely, leaving only the steel framework of the shipping container. The rest of the ceiling had crumbled into massive chunks, littering the floor like building debris in a war zone.

Clapping drew my attention to Chef Sakamoto, Reina, and Iron Face standing a few feet away.

“Congratulations!” Chef Sakamoto called out, his voice bright and cheerful, as though we’d just completed a fun team-building exercise. He popped the cork off a bottle of champagne, spraying it into the air before taking a celebratory swig. “You have successfully completed the challenge without fail!”

He passed the bottle to me with a broad smile, his eyes twinkling with something I couldn’t quite place. Glee? A twisted delight? I took a hesitant sip, the champagne fizzing on my tongue. It tasted bitter. Wrong. A celebration among the aftermath?

I passed it to Jiro, who drank deeply before handing it to Kenji. They laughed and clapped each other on the back, their earlier tension seemingly forgotten. For a moment, they looked like ordinary friends celebrating.

A queasiness bubbled in my stomach at the sight of Chef Sakamoto’s beaming face, like that of a father watching his children succeed. Reina stood beside him, snapping photos with her phone as though documenting a holiday party. Even Iron Face, in danger of losing his nickname, wore something resembling a smile.

This wasn’t a victory to be celebrated. We had almost been killed. And yet there were smiles and laughter aplenty. I half expected cake and ice cream to be rolled out. Was I dreaming?

My gaze shifted to the center of the wreckage, where our makeshift ice shelter still stood, defiant and fragile. A monument to our alliance. But as I watched, one of the blocks shifted. The entire structure collapsed into a heap of jagged shards.

The symbolism wasn’t lost on me. Our alliance had held, for now. But how long before it crumbled too?

I glanced back at Jiro and Kenji. Their laughter rang out, carefree. How could they ignore the weight of everything we’d just endured? I envied them and their ability to find normalcy in the chaos. I for one couldn’t join in their celebration. I couldn’t let myself forget what this place truly was. Evil.