Sonoka

The smell of caramelizing sugar, sharp and sweet, filled the small kitchen before a hiss of smoke followed. Sonoka, usually the picture of culinary grace in their bowler hat, stood frozen, a prized amber-sap glaze boiling over onto the stove. Their student, Sakuyako, watched with a placid expression. For all the lessons on patience and precision, Sonoka’s own composure was as fragile as spun sugar. They had taught Sakuyako everything about the joyful cuisine of The Heart of the Forest, but had neglected to mention the most vital skill: how to manage the master chef’s frequent, silent panics. Sakuyako quietly took the pan, doused it, and began again. Sonoka adjusted their hat and sagely noted, “A lesson in humility.”