I nodded slowly, my voice catching in my throat. “My wrist hurts a little, but I’m fine.” The words felt hollow. My mind was still spinning from the assault that had almost happened. If it hadn’t been for Jiro… I reached up to the bandage on his neck, the wound from Iron Face’s whip. “Does it still hurt?”
“No.”
We stood there in awkward silence until I remembered.
“Did you set that up so you could come in and be the hero?” I asked, my voice sharp.
Jiro smirked. “I was your hero?”
“I knew it,” I said, shoving past him and stomping away.
He caught my arm, not hard, but enough to stop me. “Akiko. I didn’t set that up. You looked like you were in trouble, so I helped out.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m not the biggest asshole on earth, even though I know you think that.”
His words caught me off guard. “Well, thank you. I appreciate it.”
Jiro’s smirk softened. “Is Kenji okay? I saw Iron Face take him away.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Are you always watching me?”
He shrugged. “Call it coincidence.”
“That’s a lot of coincidences.”
“Lucky for you.”
“Why do you care so much about what Kenji is doing?”
“I don’t, really. But this is a competition. It’s smart to keep track of the others.”
“Is that why I always catch you looking at me?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Afraid I’ll beat you?”
“That,” Jiro said with a playful grin, “and because you’re cute.”
“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”
“It’s not flattery if it’s true.”
“What? That I’m cute?”
“No,” he said, his grin fading. “That you’re the best chef here. You’re the one to beat.”
I tilted my head, studying him. “Maybe I missed it, but did one of them hit you a little too hard back there? You’re talking nonsense.”
He chuckled. “I’m serious. Don’t forget, I’ve tasted your cooking. You were amazing then, and I can only imagine how much better you are now.”
His words threw me off. Jiro, of all people, complimenting me? “You hate me, Jiro. There’s no way you think I’m the best.”
“I don’t hate you.” His smirk faded. “You always had a knack for cooking. You enjoy it, and it shows.”
I searched his face for a sign of ridicule but found none. “Why say this now? You’ve done nothing but tease me from day one.”
“I’m not blind, Akiko,” Jiro said, leaning closer, his voice dropping. “I saw it back then, when we were dating. You cooked all the time. You had raw talent that only needed time to evolve. You belong here.”
His words stirred something inside me. Memories of the early days, sharing that tiny apartment, me cooking for him every night. “You remember all that?”
