I focused on the task, determined not to give in. But then the bathroom door creaked open, and I froze. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Jiro leaning casually against the entrance to the showers. He had that signature smirk plastered across his face.
Of course. It took every ounce of self-control not to throw the scrub brush at him. He said nothing to me, preferring to watch. Thankfully, he left after a minute or so.
Two hours. That’s how long it took me to finally satisfy Iron Face’s standards. By the end, my hands felt raw, my knees ached, and my shoulders screamed. I consoled myself with the thinnest silver linings. If I ever got stuck with bathroom duty again, I’d know exactly what Iron Face was looking for. Pathetic, right?
There was still some time before lunch. I trudged back to my room, thinking a catnap might help my aching body recover. Just as I opened the door, Kenji popped out of his room, his face lighting up the way it always did when he saw me.
“You’re back! That took forever.”
“Tell me about it,” I grumbled.
Kenji followed me into my room, and I promptly face-planted onto my bed. Without a word, he grabbed my legs, lifted them onto the mattress, and scooted underneath them so he could sit at the edge.
“I didn’t pass the first inspection,” I admitted, flopping onto my back. “That’s why it took so long.”
“Seriously?”
“At least now I know what to do if I get that chore again.”
Kenji grinned. “That’s very optimistic of you.”
Before I could respond, he pulled off my shoes and started massaging my feet.
“Oh my God,” I sighed, sinking into the mattress. “That feels incredible. You realize you’ve made yourself my official foot masseuse for life, right?”
He chuckled, his hands working magic on my sore feet. “Well, you did have the worst chore of the day. You deserve a little R and R.”
I lifted my head to look at him, my lips curling into a lazy smile. “What did I ever do to deserve a friend like you?”
“You lived next door,” he said simply. “That’s what you did.”
Our laughter filled the room, chasing away the gloom of my morning.
“So, should we talk about the elephant in the room?” Kenji asked, raising an eyebrow. “Because this whole situation, it being a competition, is messed up.”
“Totally,” I admitted.
“The only positive I can think of is that the challenges might actually involve training, like those cooking shows where the chef demonstrates a dish and then the students are judged on how well they replicate it.”
“You really think that’s what the challenges will be?” I asked, stretching out my legs.
“What else could they be? How well we mop floors? I mean, I get cleaning the training kitchen after using it, but scrubbing the entire compound? That’s total bullshit. But the real problem is these so-called challenges. We have no idea what’s in store for us. It’s a little infuriating.”
“Kenji, it’s not just the chores or the challenges. It’s the fact that Iron Face has said twice now that only one person here will become Chef Sakamoto’s apprentice. There are ten of us. Nine will go home empty handed.”
Kenji focused his gaze on my feet. “I know.”
“That means you and I…we’re competing against each other.”
“I know,” he said again. He then looked over at me. “But if I had to lose, I’d want to lose to you.”
“Aww, that’s so sweet. Thank you.” I smiled.
“You know you’re supposed to say the same thing back, right?”
I burst out laughing. “I know, I know. I’m just lightening the mood. And I want to lose to you too.”
“Can you imagine if Jiro wins, though?” Kenji muttered, shaking his head.
