“Uh…” My voice caught. Why was Chef Sakamoto’s wife here?
“Hello, Akiko,” she said, her voice warm yet precise, like she’d rehearsed this moment a hundred times.
I walked to the sinks and washed my hand. “What…what are you doing here?” I stammered, trying to process the sight of her in this dingy bathroom. She looked out of place, her flawless designer outfit clashing with the worn tiles and harsh lighting.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” she said as if reading my thoughts. “Come with me.”
Instinct took over. I followed as she led me out of the bathroom, past the dormitory, and straight to the sealed steel doors. My breath hitched as the doors opened for us like magic, revealing the world beyond the compound.
The fresh air hit me like a wave. It was crisper, cleaner, sweeter than I remembered. I hadn’t realized how stifling the compound was until now.
Reina led me to a sleek black Mercedes where a driver waited, holding the rear door open. She climbed in first, then turned to me, her smile inviting me inside. I hesitated.
“What’s the matter? Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Excuse me?” I blinked, caught off guard.
“I’m taking you to an early dinner,” she said. “Get in. Quickly.”
I knew getting into the car was breaking the rules, but how could I say no? I climbed in, and the door closed behind me with a soft thud. The car pulled away from the compound, and I was filled with equal parts dread and curiosity.
Reina broke the silence first. “When we return, you will attend dinner as usual,” she said, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. “Eat your food, even if you’re not hungry. No one must know you left. You’ll be in trouble if they find out.”
Trouble? But you took me out of the compound!
“I understand,” I said.
“Good.” She finally turned to me, her expression softening. “I won’t be able to protect you if word gets out.”
Tell me I didn’t just kick myself out of the program for a meal.
The car sped through narrow streets, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was some kind of test or, worse, a setup. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat as I stared out the window.
“Don’t worry.” Reina’s voice was calm and even soothing. She placed a hand on my thigh. “My intention isn’t to get you in trouble. But I thought the risk was worth it.”
“Worth it?” I echoed, turning to her. “For what?”
“To get to know you better,” she said simply. “You’re the first woman to ever participate in Kage Ryu. That’s a big accomplishment—unheard of, really. I’m impressed, Akiko. And I’m cheering for you.”
Her words caught me off guard. Of all the people in the program, I never expected Chef Sakamoto’s wife to be in my corner.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Reina had picked out a small, posh restaurant specializing in French fusion food. The menu was unfamiliar to me, and when she offered to order for us both, I quickly agreed.
I couldn’t help but appreciate Reina’s smile as we ate and talked. It was warm and inviting, yet a sharpness in her eyes kept me slightly on edge. It wasn’t threatening, but something about it felt rehearsed, as though this dinner was more than just a friendly outing.
“You’ve come so far, Akiko,” Reina said as she cut into her lamb gracefully. “Just make sure you don’t lose sight of the end. The points don’t matter as much as you might think. My husband will choose whoever he feels is most deserving.”
I paused my fork briefly. Her words completely contradicted everything Iron Face had told us. “But…Kanshisha-san said the points determine the winner. That they’re everything.”
Reina gave a soft laugh, almost pitying, and sipped her wine. “He says a lot of things. The truth is, my husband is looking for more than just skill. Points are a part of it, but they’re not the deciding factor. He’s looking for resilience. Adaptability. Someone who can handle anything.”
I didn’t know what to say. Her words spun in my head, raising more questions than answers. Were the points a facade, a way to distract us? If they weren’t the true measure, then what was?
“Every challenge will seem simple,” Reina continued, her tone dropping to a near whisper. “Mundane, even. Don’t be fooled by that. Preparation is key to surviving.”
I flinched at her choice of words. “Surviving?” I asked cautiously. “Don’t you mean winning?”
