Dakota Cloud was a giant.

He was well over six and a half feet tall and had the musculature of a linebacker. He'd always been into fitness, probably because his dad had been in the army and he'd grown up around that type of alpha lifestyle, but also because he found the repetitive, straightforward nature of working out to be meditative and calming. Dakota was born in Okinawa, Japan, and spent most of his childhood on an army base. He attended an off-base Japanese middle school and found himself struggling with being labeled an outsider, and his army family didn't help with the acceptance much, either. Not everyone was happy about the U.S. army presence in town. And, to make matters worse, there was his size. He stuck out like a sore thumb. It was no wonder he fell in with a bad crowd and got up to no good during those days.

Fitness had been his sole rock. It was the only thing consistent and positive in an otherwise turbulent life. He didn't give a shit about college. He didn't give a shit about moving to the United States with his mom after his parents got divorced, even though she begged him to come. He didn't really give a shit about anything.

In his senior year in high school, Dakota was faced with a choice: find a job or join the army. He chose to work and found a part time job at a local ramen shop. It was there that he discovered his passion for cooking. He never knew the amount of devotion and attention that could be given to something as simple as a noodle soup, but he quickly found himself enraptured by the challenge of it, the desire for perfection. It reminded him of working out. Repeating the same motions, slowly and steadily building up skills. The manager, Katsuo, was an alpha who'd been making ramen for forty years. He also apprenticed under a master, who'd developed his own recipes from old family techniques. Dakota was fascinated by this wealth of knowledge and tradition. He'd never had anything like it in his life.

Dakota spent five years apprenticing under Katsuo. The part time job quickly became a full-time obsession. He learned quickly and prodigiously, absorbing everything like a sponge. Then, when he was twenty-five, he decided to go back to the states. He'd matured. He was no longer the same apathetic and callous teenager who hated everything and was on the verge of self-destruction.

Every day, Dakota arrived at Send Noods several hours before opening to prep all the ingredients. The place was small, with only a counter and a few tables just like what he was used to back in Japan. The few seats meant a line out the door on busy nights, which helped create an atmosphere of exclusivity. Of course, his food met the hype. He had two assistant cooks, Cesar and Tom, and one waitress, Ellie, but other than that Dakota did most of the work himself.

First, he got the day's batch of his pork bone broth simmering on the stove. While it was cooking, he would prepare the hard-boiled eggs, chopping the bamboo shoots and green onions, cutting the fish cake, and finally, cooking the slow roasted pork. Cesar or Tom would arrive an hour or two after him, and then Ellie last, when the store was about to open for the day. Back in Tokyo, customers would start filing in for a meal right when the shop opened its doors, but in Forest Glenn, a neighborhood nestled in the middle of Los Angeles, people didn't really eat much ramen for breakfast. After Dakota's morning prep ritual, there was usually a few hours of downtime before the lunch rush.

Ellie poured herself a glass of water and sat at the counter, opposite where Dakota worked. Even during the downtime, he liked to keep his hands busy, so he stretched and powdered some fresh noodles while he chatted with Ellie.

"Did you put up your new profile picture yet?" she asked. "The one I took of you?"

She'd taken a keen interest in his love life—or lack of one—and had insisted on creating an Ember account for him. "Matchmaking is one of my hobbies," she'd told him. "I've found boyfriends for all of my friends. I have no idea why you'd need any help, though." She constantly liked to remind him how shocked she was that he wasn't up to his ears in omegas and betas. "You're hardworking, you have your own business, and you're fucking hot. Is that weird to say to your boss?" She'd told him that at least five times. If she wasn't into women, he might've thought she was trying to hit on him.

"I haven't, yet," he admitted.

"Dakotaaaa," she groaned, patting the counter in frustration. "Have you at least been swiping on anyone? Checking anyone out?"

He smiled. "I checked it out a couple times, but you know I barely have time to do anything."

"It's insane how much you work. Like, you know you could just leave the closing up to one of us. And you could manage with coming in a little later, too."

"It's habit," he said.

"You told me you've been getting lonely," Ellie said. "You've gotta make time to meet people. You're thirty. You aren't getting any younger. Even though you aren't getting any less attractive, which totally isn't fair."

"You sound like you could be my mother," Dakota said.

"I have motherly instincts," she said. Ellie was nineteen, but sometimes it felt like she was much older with the way she treated Dakota and the two other workers at Send Noods.

"You certainly do like to look after people. And I said that I occasionally feel lonely sometimes. Sometimes. Most of the time I'm too damn busy to be lonely."

The front door opened and in strolled the first customers of the day. It was Victor, who was one of his regular customers, and a companion. If he'd served him before, Dakota didn't remember. The stranger was an omega, with a handsome, angular face and dark eyes. He looked over at Dakota and smiled in greeting. Dakota smiled back.

It wasn't like he never saw omegas who attracted him. With all the hundreds of people who came through his restaurant, he inevitably saw plenty who he thought were good looking. But there'd be no chance to get to know any of them even if he wanted to. Dakota was precious with his time. He couldn't imagine giving it up for anyone or anything except improving his cooking.

"Good morning, Dakota," Victor said. "Hi, Ellie."

"In for breakfast?" Dakota said. "You've only ever eaten here for dinner."

"I wanted to try your new morning special," Victor said.

Ellie went over to their table to take their order, and Dakota went to get the ramen bowls ready. Cesar was busy chopping veggies.

"Miso ramen for Victor, as usual," Ellie said, pinning the ticket to the order board. "And salt broth ramen for the other gentleman. No additions."

Dakota rinsed the fresh ramen noodles and then put them into a strainer that perched on the side of a bubbling vat of water. He poured the concentrated miso and salt broths into the bowls and diluted them with stock. Then, he cut several slices of roasted pork and added the menma, or pickled bamboo shoots. He put a few extra pieces for Victor, who always talked about how he hated bamboo until eating Dakota's menma.

He always liked to serve his ramen directly to the customers whenever possible. He felt it helped round out the intimate, exclusive atmosphere of the restaurant, and plus he just liked to see the people who were enjoying his food.

"And a salt broth ramen for you, sir." He gently placed the ramen down in front of Victor's friend. Dakota had big hands. Back in Japan, he used to be teased about them. Katsuo used to call them oni no te—demon's hands. But Dakota liked his hands. In high school when he used to get into fights, he could easily knock a guy out with one punch. And making ramen, he had no problem serving up multiple bowls, or chopping vegetables for hours, or stretching noodles. His hands were strong, and very dexterous.

"This is my best friend, William," Victor said. "Our kids are in the same class together."

William, huh? So, he had a kid. Ellie was right, even though Dakota hated to admit it. He was getting older, and the older he got the less chances he would have to meet people. It seemed like everyone he met was already mated with kids. That was just the reality of it. But at the same time, he already had so much on his plate. He was happy doing what he was doing. He could do it for the rest of his life and be happy.

Right?

"Oh," Victor said, "But he's a single dad."

William looked horrified. "Alright, that's enough..."

Dakota smiled mildly, but otherwise didn't react to Victor's comment. "Let me know if you need anything else."

After Victor and William left, the restaurant began to receive a steady trickle of customers that led up to the lunch rush, and with their new special deal, things were extra busy. It was during these times Dakota felt most like himself. He and the team operated like well-oiled machinery, churning out bowls of ramen with practiced efficiency. Every motion was down to a science. Then, after a few hours, the rush slowed down to a trickle and they'd have some time to recuperate before dinner.

"Thank you!" Dakota, Ellie, and Cesar called out as the last customer of the lunch rush left the restaurant.

Ellie wiped down the table, and Cesar took a sip of water and headed for the door. "Gonna take a smoke break," he said.

"Where's your phone?" asked Ellie. "Try Ember again."

"Actually," Dakota said, "I kinda deleted the app..."

"Dakota! Are you serious?"

He gave her an apologetic grin. He actually hadn't deleted it, but he really didn't want to use it.

"And I took that awesome profile pic of you. Don't you at least want to give it a shot?"

"I did," he said. "I played with it for a few minutes."

She smacked her forehead. "A few minutes! What the shit!"

"Sorry, Ellie. It's just not my thing."

"Jeez... I'm not giving up on you, Dakota."

He sort of wished that she would. It was true, he had confessed to her that he sometimes felt lonely, but only because she'd basically corralled him into the admission. "Don't you feel lonely? At all?" That was what she'd asked him. He just didn't care about relationships in the way that some people did. Some people needed another person to feel complete. Being in a relationship was just a natural part of their existence, and without it they didn't feel whole. They were habitually in relationships.

Dakota had never been like that. He'd been in a couple relationships when he was younger and thought it was something he had to do, but he quickly realized that they didn't provide much for him. Not that he was against ever having one. It would just have to be with the right person. If the right person came along, he would be open to it.

He had no idea what kind of person that would be. He supposed he’d know when it happened.

Dakota was the last person out of the restaurant after closing, taking extra time to clean and make preparations for the following day. Sometimes he just liked to enjoy a beer alone while reading at the counter. It was better than going home. Sometimes Ellie stuck around to chat, usually because Dakota would let her have a beer with him, but most of the time she left to meet with friends.

Today, he left immediately after finishing. He needed to go to the grocery store to restock his fridge at home. Compared to how well kept the restaurant was, Dakota's apartment was neglected. Sometimes he would only spend time there sleeping, taking his meals at the restaurant. If Ellie ever saw his place, she'd probably be horrified.

It was late, and the supermarket was mostly empty, with a few of the employees sitting in the aisles in plain clothes, unpacking palettes of canned fruit and boxes of cereal and stocking them onto the shelves. Dakota pushed a cart around, one of its front wheels squeaking and twirling erratically like it had a mind of its own. He just needed a few basics. Some eggs and bread for a quick breakfast, and something easy for dinners. He skipped over the pasta. If he had anymore noodles, he might turn into one.

He picked up some chicken legs and some veggies that he could use to make a nice stew—something he could freeze for a week or so—and then pushed his cart towards the grain aisle to grab a bag of brown rice.

What he didn't tell Ellie was that he'd used the dating app she'd installed for more than just a few minutes like he'd said. He'd actually spent a few hours swiping through the different faces that popped up on his screen. Swipe left, swipe left, swipe left... He just couldn't understand how anything of substance could come from something like this. All he saw were faces. The words written below the photos, the little resumes that attempted to describe something about who they were as a person, seemed so shallow.

A photo of a bowl of ramen could look like shit, but its flavors could be heaven. And the opposite was true too. Trying to find someone worthwhile through an app like Ember felt like searching for a needle in a haystack. It was a waste of time and energy.

Dakota was zoned out slightly, not quite paying attention as he pushed his cart past the aisles, when suddenly the end of another cart emerged and crossed right into his path. Normally, he would've screeched to a halt immediately, but he was distracted by thoughts of dating apps. His cart collided into the side of the other one, and in the silence of the empty store the sound of colliding metal rang out like an exploding crash of cymbals. Dakota's carton of eggs, which was perched precariously on top of the loaf of bread inside the child's seat, flipped off. Eggs tumbled down and cracked on the grid metal of the cart, splattering yolk everywhere.

"Shit," said Dakota. "I'm sorry."

"Oh my god. No, I'm sorry. Your eggs!"

Dakota looked up and immediately realized it was William, the guy who'd been with Victor this morning. He was looking around for someone to help them clean up the mess.

"Oh, it's you," Dakota said.

William turned and looked at Dakota, and pointed at him, his mouth dropping open in surprise. "You're... Dakota. From Send Noods. Oh my god. I'm sorry. Were those for the restaurant?"

"No," Dakota said. "They were for my breakfast."

"Oh, no," William said. "That's probably worse. I ruined your breakfast."

"No, you didn't," Dakota said. "It was my fault, anyway. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. I'll just grab a new carton, don't worry about it. Really. It's not your fault."

William smiled, embarrassed. "We should get someone to clean up that mess." The yolk was pooling on the floor beneath the cart. "I'll go grab someone. Wait right there."

Dakota didn’t need to be fussed over, but William was already gone, and a few minutes later he reappeared with a new shopping cart, a carton of eggs, and a pimply-faced employee in tow with a mop. William helped Dakota transfer the contents of his cart to the new one.

"Thanks," Dakota said. "Really, it's fine..."

"Too late," William said. "I already did it. There."

"Thanks," Dakota said, again.

William went back to his cart. "See you." He looked a bit flustered.

"Yeah, see you around." Dakota pushed his cart straight ahead and William turned his around to go the other way, retreating back into the aisle he'd emerged from.

Dakota walked down several rows to where the grains were and swung a left. Down on the opposite end, he saw William also turn his cart into the aisle. They made eye contact and laughed. "Hello, again," Dakota said to him as they met by the bags of rice.

"We need to stop running into each other," William said, and picked out a few boxes of pasta. Dakota grabbed a small bag of brown rice, and the two of them pushed their carts along side by side.

"I thought I was the only person who did their shopping this late," Dakota said.

"Well, actually I don't usually come this late. But my son is having a sleepover with a friend, so I figured I'd take the opportunity to get some chores done. It's hard to find time to do everything when I've got work, you know what I mean?"

"I know exactly what you mean."

"You have any kids?" William asked.

"Nope," Dakota said. "Unless you count the restaurant. I devote most of my time to it. It's basically my baby."

"Send Noods," William said.

"Yeah."

"Why'd you call it that?"

Dakota shrugged. "I thought it was funny. But also, I thought it would be important to choose a name that stood out. There's a lot of ramen places around. Lots of really good ones. Also, I didn't want to choose a Japanese name, since I'm not Japanese. I trained in Japan, but I think I would've felt a little weird using a Japanese name."

"No wonder your food is so good," said William. "You actually trained in Japan? So, you're like a legit chef? Er, sorry. I meant like, legitimately Japanese trained."

They pushed their carts up to the cash register and paid for their groceries.

"Yeah," Dakota said, loading the bags into his cart. "I grew up in Japan, actually. Army kid." The two of them went out to the parking lot together. "Where'd you park?"

William pointed. "Over there."

"I'm on the other side."

"Oh, okay. Well, I'll see you. It was nice talking to you."

"Yeah, definitely," Dakota said, giving him a little wave goodbye. As he pushed his cart away, he was confronted with a strange feeling. He wanted to keep talking to William. What was it about him? He had this easygoing energy about him that made him easy to talk to, but also... There was something that Dakota had detected. He had a depth to his eyes. The guy was young. Younger than he was, for sure. But he'd been through more than most people his age. Dakota could sense it. After all, William was a single father. What was the story there?

He'd probably never know. And besides, he probably was better off not knowing.

"Don't ram your car into mine when you're leaving the parking lot!" William shouted at him, and Dakota laughed.

Get his number! If Ellie were here she'd be shouting that in his ear right now.

No, he wouldn't get his number. It was a nice thought, but in reality, he wouldn't have the time to maintain anything. He wouldn't even have time to call him, let alone ask him out. There wouldn't be a point to asking for his number.

At least, that was what Dakota told himself.