Gemotions

"It was… aggressive," the critic had written, describing Chef Kenji's ramen. Kenji re-read the sentence. The words felt like a punch to the gut. He'd spent years perfecting the broth, sourcing the perfect noodles, and he had failed.

He sat on a crate in the storage room, the scent of spices and soy sauce doing nothing to soothe his churning stomach. The lights above him hummed. He was a fool.

He pictured his grandfather, the man who had taught him everything. He felt a deep sense of inadequacy, as if he had let down his family legacy. He needed to be alone for a very long time.