Gemotions

The clatter of pots and pans had subsided, replaced by the quiet hum of the ventilation system. Chef Hiroki surveyed the empty dining room, the polished tables reflecting the dim overhead lights. His back ached, his feet throbbed, but a strange warmth spread through him. It was a sensation he rarely experienced after a service, but a welcome one.

He'd crafted something beautiful. He'd trusted his instincts and, even though the critic’s words still echoed in his mind, he knew he'd created something worth experiencing.

He pictured the critic, her face impassive as she sampled each course. He did not know how it had gone, but he felt a sense of calm.

He reached for the bottle of sake he'd been saving, poured himself a generous portion, and closed his eyes. The taste was familiar and comforting.
***