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CHAPTER FIVE

I jiggled the doorknob repeatedly, thinking it would magically unlock itself. Why me and not the person next door? Was this because I was a woman? If gender was such an issue, why let me into the program in the first place? I plopped back onto the bed, leaning against the wall with my knees pulled to my chest. Whoever was next door was being awfully quiet.

It had to be a man.

Sure, there was a slim chance another woman had been accepted, but I doubted it. The welcome packet didn’t say how many apprentices were admitted, just that this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. So far, it seemed like there were just the two of us.

I strained my ears, trying to catch a sound, anything. Whoever it was must have been doing the same because the silence amplified my breathing. I couldn’t help but wonder: Who were they? Would they be friendly? Or would they treat me differently because I was a woman?

Then, faint rustling. My pulse quickened as I pressed my ear against the wall. The soft shuffle of fabric—were they changing into their uniform? Mustering confidence, I decided to break the silence.

“Hello? Are you here for the apprenticeship?” I called out.

A pause. Then, a hesitant “Yeah.”

“Me too.”

Another pause, longer this time. “But…you’re a girl.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, and?”

“Why are you in the program?”

“Are you serious? I’m here for the same reason you are. I want to be a sushi chef.”

“But how?”

“I guess I’m that good.” Was this the kind of reaction I could expect from everyone here? “How did you get in?” I shot back.

“I applied, like you. I guess I just assumed it was for men.”

“Are you shocked?”

“A little. I’ve only ever seen male sushi chefs.”

“Well, now you’re about to see a woman sushi chef. Got a problem with that?”

“Uh, no. I think it’s fine.” His tone softened. “My name’s Kenji Sanada. Nice to meet you.”

Kenji Sanada? The name triggered a wave of memories. “Wait, did you say Kenji Sanada?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Could it really be him? “Do you have a birthmark on the inside of your left forearm?”

A pause, this time longer. “Who’s asking?”

“Just answer the question. Do you?”

“I do. Now, who are you?”

I grinned, my heart racing. “Did you name it Pikachu because it sort of looks like Pikachu?”

Seconds stretched like hours. Finally, his voice cracked with disbelief. “Akiko? Is that you?”

“Yes! Oh my God, Kenji! Yes, it’s me!”

“No way. I thought I’d never see you again.”

“Same here! The last time I saw you was when your family moved away.”

Kenji was my best friend growing up, my partner in every childhood adventure until his dad’s new job took them to Tokyo. When they left, it felt like losing a part of myself.

“This is surreal,” he said. “I can’t believe it.”

“Neither can I. Why didn’t you try to find me?”

“I did. Later, when I was older. But I kept hitting dead ends. You could’ve tried to find me, too, you know.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” My voice softened. He had no idea what my life had become after he left. “It’s a long story.”

“Well, we’ve got time. Tell me everything. How are your parents?”

Hearing Kenji say that broke my heart a little. He had moved away before all the terrible things that happened. He had no idea. So I started my story with my father disappearing.

“Wait, your father just vanished… No trace?”

“It happened right after you left. The police looked for him, but after a while they gave up, and that was it.”

“Akiko…I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I feel like an asshole for not trying harder to find you.”

“You couldn’t have known, Kenji. We were kids.”

“So it’s just you and your mom?”

I took another deep breath. “She took his disappearance hard and fell into a deep depression, barely able to get out of bed most days. Alcohol took over… About a year later she passed.”

“My God, Akiko… I don’t know what to say.”

“It’s fine. It happened a long time ago. I got through it.”

“You were alone? I mean, how did you survive?”

“Well, after my dad left, I started working part-time at the local fish market to help my mother. I learned responsibility quickly. I became the adult in the family, so by the time she died, I was practically surviving on my own anyway. The people at the fish market were a great help. I wasn’t entirely alone.”

“I wish I knew. I wish I could have done something.”

“I know, and thank you for saying it.”

“You were my best friend. We’re supposed to look out for each other.”

“Don’t feel guilty, Kenji. None of what happened was because of you moving away.”

“It’s hard not to feel guilty. Did you know I still consider you my best friend?”

“Really?”

“Of course! I always thought about you, wondering what you were up to.”

“Same here. Thinking about our fun times got me through those rough days.”

“I hate that you had to go through all that. I wish I could’ve been there for you.”

“You couldn’t have done anything. We were kids.”

A few moments of silence passed. “This is still so crazy,” he said. “Of all places to meet again, it’s here. In this program. What are the odds?”

“Pretty slim. But enough of me already. Since when did you start cooking? We were just eaters back in the days.”

He laughed. “True. I think it started in high school. I spent more time in the kitchen with my mom, and she taught me.”

“You? In the kitchen? That’s a sight I never imagined.”

“I know, right? But I was bullied at my new school. Cooking became my escape.”

“That’s awful, Kenji. I hate bullies. If I’d been there, I’d have knocked their teeth out.”

He laughed again. “I know you would’ve.”

“It’s surreal, though. Not only are we reunited, but we’re neighbors again. Wait, Kenji. Is your door locked?”

“What do you mean?”

“Can you open it?”

I heard his door creak open. “Yeah, mine opens.”

“I knew it! Kenji, my door is locked from the outside. Can you open it?”

“Hold on. I’ll check.”

As I waited, a wave of nervousness washed over me. Memories of afternoons spent playing ken ken pa or bidama with Kenji came rushing back, the way we easily laughed around each other and the tight bond that made us inseparable. But years had passed. Was he still the same Kenji I remembered, or had time and distance changed him? Would he view me as his old friend or just another competitor? And would I even recognize him?

Kenji jiggled the doorknob. A faint click and the door swung open. There he was, my best friend from childhood. His goofy smile was still there, but everything else about him had changed. He was taller and broader, and his once-skinny frame now had the definition of someone who’d grown into himself.

“Kenji!” I threw my arms open and walked straight into him, hugging him tightly. My cheek pressed against his chest. “Mmm, you smell good. Do I detect cologne on you?”

He laughed, pulling back to look at me. “You like?”

I buried my nose into him and took a dramatic sniff. “I like.”

“You look exactly the same,” he said as I pulled him into my room and shut the door. “Well, an older version of yourself.” He stepped back to give me a once-over. “Sheesh, Akiko. You’re hot now. Who would’ve thought?”

I laughed, feeling the warmth rise to my cheeks. When we were kids, Kenji had never seen me as anything more than his buddy. It was always me pretending we were married and him humorously playing along just to demand imaginary dinners after his fake workday.

“Well, you’re not so bad yourself,” I teased, poking at his abdomen. It was solid. “You’ve been working out.”

“Gym every day,” he said, grinning.

“So, any girlfriends?”

“Nah, I’m too busy. What about you? Bet you have a ton of guys chasing after you.”

“I wish. I’m like a cat lady, just without the cat.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. You’re too cute to be single.”

I gave him a playful smile, kicking a leg up behind me. “What can I say? Right now, I’m focused on myself. I finally feel like I’m in a place where I can chase my dreams. Becoming a sushi chef is all I care about.”

“Same here. Guess we’re on the same path.”

A sound in the hallway froze us both. I pressed a finger to my lips. “Is your door closed?” I whispered.

Kenji nodded. “Yeah, why?”

We stood still, listening. Footsteps and the low murmur of Kanshisha-san’s voice floated through the hall, followed by the soft click of another door closing.

“Did you hear him lock that door?” I asked.

Kenji shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Why is my door the only one locked?” I muttered, frustration bubbling. “Do they think I’ll run off or something?”

“Maybe it’s random?”

“Or maybe it’s because I’m a woman,” I said bitterly.

Kenji frowned. “You really think so?”

“I don’t know. I just can’t figure out why.”

We sat on my bed, talking about everything: our childhood, the program, and the strange rules we’d already encountered. It felt like no time had passed between us. All the years apart melted away as we slipped back into the easy rhythm of our friendship.

“I’m still living in Tokyo,” Kenji said. “I sell earthquake insurance.”

“What? You’re an insurance salesman?” I muffled my laugh with my hand.

“I know, I know. Possibly the last thing I ever thought I would be doing, but it pays the bills. What about you? Still here in Kyoto?”

“Yup, never left. I’m working in a restaurant. Nothing to brag about.”

“At least you’re in the restaurant industry. A step closer than me.”

As the day dragged on, more participants arrived, filling the remaining rooms. Clearly we had been given different times to arrive. Kenji stayed in my room, stretched out on the floor, me on the bed.

“I’m starving,” he groaned, rubbing his stomach. “If I’d known we wouldn’t eat all day, I’d have had a bigger breakfast. Aren’t you hungry?”

“Starving,” I admitted. “And I really need to pee. Did Kanshisha-san say anything about bathrooms?”

“Nope. Maybe we have to use the Sakamotos’ bathroom,” he joked.

I rolled my eyes. “Highly doubt it.”

Kenji propped himself up on his elbows, looking at me. “I’m really glad we found each other again, Akiko. I missed you.”

His words softened something inside me. “I missed you too. Having you here makes this whole thing less terrifying.”

“Terrifying? You? I’ve never seen you afraid of anything.”

I smiled, but the truth was, I was terrified. Not of the training but of failing. Of not being enough. “Thanks, Kenji. It’s good to know someone has my back.”

“Always,” he said, his voice steady and sincere. “If anyone gives you trouble, they’ll have to deal with me.”

The thought warmed me, though I didn’t want anyone to think I needed a man to protect me. Still, it was comforting to know Kenji was in my corner.

“Thanks,” I said softly.

Kenji stood, stretching. “I should head back to my room before Kanshisha-san catches me. Don’t want to get kicked out on the first day.”

I stood, too, wrapping him in a quick hug. “Here’s to our new journey,” I said.

Kenji leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Don’t forget to lock my door,” I reminded him as he left.

He locked the door, and I sat on the bed, staring at the bare walls. My stomach growled. The day had been long and strange, and unease crept back as the silence settled over the dormitory.

Suddenly, the dormitory door banged open. Kanshisha-san’s voice cut through the stillness, and my heart jumped. This was it—the start of whatever we’d signed up for.