“Here’s a question for you,” Kenji said, leaning back slightly but keeping his arm loosely around me. “What if Chef Sakamoto offered you the chance to head up his new restaurant? You know, make you the head chef. Would you take it?”
“No,” I said without hesitation. “I want my own restaurant. I’ll settle for nothing less.”
“Not even to train?” he pressed. “You could make mistakes on his dime. Running a restaurant is a lot more than cooking. It’s payroll, inventory, marketing, all the boring stuff no one tells you about until you’re knee deep.”
“Stop,” I groaned, pulling a book off the shelf and plopping it before us. “This program is already an unthinkable hurdle. Thinking about all of that on top of surviving this? You’re killing my vibe, Kenji.”
“Just trying to keep it real,” he said as he flipped open another book. “But speaking of restaurants, have you noticed something weird? Most of the chefs who trained under Sakamoto left Japan to open their own. None stayed here.”
“What’s your point?” I asked, blowing dust off the pages of an older book.
He shrugged. “It seems like a pattern. Maybe they thought the same thing you do—learn from him, then get the hell away. Or,” he added with a dark glint in his eye, “maybe he scares them into leaving. ‘The Restaurant on the Other Side of the Wall’—sounds like a horror movie, doesn’t it?”
He lifted his hands like claws, growling softly for effect. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Stop it! You’re making me imagine some ghost chef lurking in the shadows with a cleaver.”
“That’s the sequel,” he said, deadpan, flipping a page. “I’m telling you, there’s a story here.”
“Or maybe,” I said, with exaggeration, “a clause in our contract bans us from competing with him in Japan. That’s how he stays number one, by ensuring no one can rise against him.”
Kenji’s expression shifted to thoughtful. “That actually makes sense. That’s probably it.”
I smiled despite myself. In a place that seemed determined to crush us, Kenji made me feel lighter. Despite everything so far, he somehow found a way to look for the silver lining. His humor, his warmth… It had become a lifeline I didn’t know I needed.
But it was more than that. I liked being around him. I liked how his hair sometimes flopped into his eyes and how he’d casually toss it back with a quick flick. More than once, I’d caught myself wanting to brush it back for him, like a doting girlfriend.
And that thought scared me.
We’d been spending all our free time together, and I’d grown comfortable, maybe too comfortable. But then I’d remember why I was here, the promises I’d made to myself, the dream I was chasing. There was no room for distractions, no matter how safe or wanted he made me feel.
Kenji let out a yawn, and for a fleeting moment, I imagined pulling his head into my lap and running my fingers through his hair as he drifted off to sleep.
“Hey,” he said, snapping me out of my thoughts. “Would you mind if we head back to our rooms? I could use a quick power nap before dinner.”
“A quickie before dinner?” I teased, arching an eyebrow. “You naughty boy.”
“Guilty as charged,” he shot back with a grin.
I laughed, shaking my head as I grabbed my books and followed him out of the library. On the walk back to the dorms, I tried to ignore the warmth of his arm brushing against mine, the way my chest warmed every time he smiled.
I couldn’t stop replaying that moment in the library when he kissed the top of my head. It felt like a promise. And I wasn’t sure I was ready to believe in promises again.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
We had left the library holding hands, but I slipped my hand free after a few steps. I didn’t want anyone who saw us to think there was something official between us, because there wasn’t. At least not yet. We were friends, and that’s all anyone needed to know.
“I’ll meet you back at the dorms,” I told Kenji when we reached the split in the path. “I need to use the bathroom.”
He offered to wait, but I waved him off. “I think I can handle a bathroom break alone.”
Kenji hesitated before giving me a relenting nod. “All right. Don’t take too long.”
I stepped inside the bathroom, pausing at the entrance. It was empty. The stalls were unoccupied, and the showers were quiet. Just me. The silence was oddly comforting after the chaos of the past few weeks.
I was halfway through my business when the sharp sound of heels echoed across the tile floor. Heels? My pulse quickened. The clicking grew louder, deliberate, until it stopped just outside my stall. I froze. Every nerve in my body was on high alert. Whoever it was wasn’t leaving. I considered staying put, but my legs were already starting to go numb. No choice. I had to face whoever it was.
I flushed the toilet, squared my shoulders, and opened the door.
Standing there was Reina Sakamoto.
