“Fortune and what?” I demanded, stepping closer. “What are you talking about? Tell me!”
Reina turned back to me, her composure snapping back into place. “Do you want to be the best?” she asked. “You have the talent, just like your father. But talent alone won’t carry you. You must sacrifice.”
“I want to be the best. I’ll work hard, but these challenges?—”
“Akiko,” she interrupted. “If it were easy, every chef would have a Michelin-starred restaurant. Sacrifice weeds out the weak. Resilience sets apart the best. You cannot have one without the other. You must find the right balance.”
She blew out the candle. Darkness engulfed the room, and for a moment, I was blind and vulnerable. When my eyes adjusted, she was already near the temple’s entrance, her figure framed by moonlight.
“Oh, and Akiko…” Reina’s voice softened to a whisper. “Pay attention to the knife. It can be your greatest tool in the kitchen or your undoing.” Before I could respond, she disappeared into the night.
The temple was silent, but my thoughts refused to settle. Reina’s cryptic warning echoed in my head. Would the next challenge push me to my breaking point?
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I left the temple feeling both hopeful and confused. Hopeful that Reina was trying to help me but baffled by how matter of fact she was about the challenges and deaths. Was she desensitized, or was she more like Chef Sakamoto than I wanted to admit?
She spoke about the challenges as if they were written exams. Show effort, work hard, and you’ll earn a gold star. Simple as that. But nothing here was simple. Not even her advice. She was just as cryptic as Iron Face. What did she mean about paying attention to the knife? Still, I felt grateful for her guidance, even though I knew better than to blindly trust her.
What bothered me most was how she’d brought up my father. It had come out of nowhere, like she knew it would dredge up painful memories. Had she even known him? Maybe. He’d been best friends with her husband. But my father had never mentioned Reina, not once. And the way she compared us, as if I were destined to fall short of his greatness, made my blood boil. What could she possibly know about me? About my potential?
I stepped out of the temple and into the gardens. The night air was cool against my skin, raising goose bumps along my arms. The pathway was dimly lit by the ishidoros, their faint candlelight barely enough to counter the darkness. Every so often, a shadow flickered in my periphery—a trick of the moonlight, I told my jumpy self.
Then I heard it. A crunch of gravel up ahead. My breath caught, and I froze. Someone was there.
Had Reina come back to provide me with more cryptic advice?
From the shadows, a figure emerged. The light from the ishidoros glimmered over them, but not enough to reveal their face. By the outline, I could tell it wasn’t Reina. A man. Kenji, maybe? My mind jumped to the worst possibilities. Taka or Dori. Maybe they’d come to finish what they’d started the day before.
Behind me, leaves rustled faintly, making me glance over my shoulder. I thought I heard voices, faint and indistinct. My imagination was taking on a life of its own.
The person continued toward me, slowly, deliberately, making the gravel crunch underfoot. If they’d already seen me, there was no use in trying to hide. The fork in the path was still a ways off, making a detour impossible, and venturing off the trail into the dark would mean losing what little light the ishidoros offered. I had two options: run or face them.
Everything is a test, Akiko.
If it was Taka or Dori, maybe this was my test. To outthink them. I had information they might want, something I could use to keep them at bay.Keep your enemies close.
I held my ground, heart pounding as I watched the figure approach. Their footsteps crunched louder with every step, their shadowy outline growing clearer. But the flickering light played tricks on their features, keeping them hidden until they stepped into a patch of moonlight.
I blinked. It was Jiro.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his familiar smile coming into view. “Isn’t this area off limits?”
“I should ask you the same,” I replied, arms crossed.
“I hate being cooped up in the dorms.”
I no longer considered Jiro a direct threat. He’d had countless chances to sabotage me and hadn’t. But that didn’t mean I trusted him.
I shifted my weight to one foot, my stance firm. “Jiro, what do you want from me?”
“What do you mean?” He’d moved close enough that I could make out the hazel in his eyes.
“You defended me at dinner. You pulled Taka and Dori off me. What’s your angle? Just come out with it once and for all.”
He threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Whoa, I’m sorry if I was being too nice.”
“That’s exactly what I’m getting at. Why are you being nice? I broke up with you, and from what I remember, you weren’t exactly thrilled about it. We shouldn’t even be talking.”
