The warm evening light filtered softly through the windows of Shino's, creating an intimate atmosphere in the elegant restaurant. The subtle murmur of customers chatting with each other mingled with the sound of cutlery and dishes being served, but none of that seemed to capture Shinomiya's attention. He was in his kitchen, as always, concentrating on his art.

With his deft hands, he moved the ingredients with surgical precision, every move was calculated, everything had its reason. Shino's was his masterpiece, and he tolerated nothing less than perfection. The deep, delicious aroma of his cuisine seemed to waft throughout the place, effortlessly drawing the eye, but what really set him apart was not just the taste of his food, but the very experience of being there.

"Everything has to be impeccable" he muttered to himself as he deftly cut a piece of fish, his gaze fixed and determined.

The atmosphere was meticulous, but not cold. The waiters moved with agility, aware of the perfection the chef demanded, but also with the respect and admiration that was earned when someone sees the passion with which he works on each dish.

In the kitchen, the assistants worked to the rhythm of Shinomiya, who rarely addressed unnecessary words to them. Each knew his or her role. They knew that at Shino's, there was no room for mistakes. If someone made a mistake, the chef noticed it instantly, but corrected it with a cool severity that dissipated as quickly as it came, only to return to the next dish.

Suddenly, a waiter appeared at the kitchen door, interrupting the steady flow of work.