The kitchen resounded with the sound of meals being prepared. Hidden from the 'bar-restaurant,' two intimidating doors acted as guardians. Inside, after a hard push, it opened to a place with white tiles, multiple counters else referred to as the cooking-station. One rested upfront for plating, it was usually mounted by the supervising chef.
"What smells so good?" wondered the demi-human receptionist wiggling her tail and nose.
"It's meat," replied Konoe with arms crossed and half a smile.
"Meat?" sighed the other receptionist, "-how original…"
"Don't insult meat," came other workers, "-it's the staple of what makes a meal great. Besides, we don't care about the fine dining everyone does here," a bearded man with slippers and vest entered without tact. "The world of the rich cuisine, who cares," he laughed.
