“Welcome back, sir.”

As you are all well aware, because I stated it only moments earlier, this is my first time ever visiting such an establishment.

What such establishment, you ask?

Well, a maid café of course.

Despite this, as I walk in, the petite maid at the door welcomes me in like I live here, as if this was where I was supposed to be the whole time.

This is the first time I have gotten such a greeting to really be anywhere since I lived at home with my parents.

I must say though, when a cute girl my age with short green hair, dressed in a Victorian maid outfit says it – for some reason, it feels a little different.

Sorry, mother.

That was probably a weird time to say that…

“May I see you to a table, sir?”

So polite!

I have never once felt like a sir in my life, and now I’m left wondering if there was a time that I was never a sir.

This feeling I have. It’s a feeling of value.

I feel valued!

Not even knowing what to say to such politeness in a situation like this, I just follow the lead of the cute maid and go to sit down at a table.

My face feels flushed, and my heart feels as if it’s beating out of my chest – it’s not so much love as it is anxiety and happiness mixed into one.

As I sit down, I look around the room.

Such dedication has been put into this café to make it look like Victorian England, and it’s not just the multitude of cute girls wearing historically accurate outfits.

Or at least, what I assume is historically accurate. I don’t know, I won’t ruin my immersion here!

The small circular tables are all laden with stylish embroidered, white tablecloths. The sort you might find in a museum or even in a period drama.

The interior of the building is mostly made up of dark wood, white walls and an atmosphere I can’t describe as anything but homely. A roaring fireplace off to the side, green plants next to the windowsill and even English-style tea sets on customers' tables.

Ah yes, the customers!

I don’t know what I was expecting, but as I scan around the room, I don’t see any of the clientele I would have imagined here.

A part of me thought it would be filled with otaku.

Okay, maybe I do know what I was expecting!.

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To my surprise, there are people here of all ages and genders, some even here with their partners.

The one thing I can say is that I can’t blame them!

This is a fantastic atmosphere; I can’t think of anyone who wouldn’t want to come here.

I feel as if I’ve been judging these establishments without even giving them a chance.

“May I get you a refreshment, sir? A pot of tea perhaps?”

As I swing my head back in order to focus on the menu, my last glance answers the question that I’ve been having this whole time.

Koi isn’t here.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking.

Just showing up to a place like this in the hopes that I would find Koi is probably a little far-fetched and may even border on stalking.

Especially since it seems like she doesn’t want to talk to me.

But hear me out!

The idea of seeing her here was just that, a hope. I didn’t come here looking for her, and I won’t go to any other places she might potentially work at to find her.

It’s just-

It’s just I figured that if this is something she does do for a living and she is embarrassed about it, then it would be smart of me to actually know a little about that job so I can support her best.

I’m her friend, after all, I’d like to be a part of her life.

A big part, if possible.

Maybe.

“Are you looking for someone, sir?”

Realizing I’ve been frozen for quite a bit, looking at the scenery and staff, my attention directs straight to the maid in front of me.

“Oh-uh, no. Not really.”

The maid leans in a little further with one eye raised. She thinks for a moment and then giggles slightly.

“Ah, I see what you’re looking for, sir. I will be just a moment.”

With that, she quickly spins around and scuttles off with a giddy smile.

What could she have possibly thought I was looking for?

There is absolutely no chance she knew I was looking for Koi!

Within moments, a maid I hadn’t noticed on my previous look around, walks out of the back room and towards me.

The only thing I can say is that she’s…

She’s beautiful.

Her shoulder-length black hair has a red tinge to it, which lightly touches her maid outfit to make her the most elegantly styled one here. The combination of the red hair, her fiery orange eyes and the beautiful apron-laden dress is divine.

A perfect match of colours.

The picturesque vision of a maid.

Is she?

Is she coming towards me?

With every step, she gets closer and closer to me and with every step, I notice more and more how welcoming her presence is.

Her very circular, black glasses only enhance her warm atmosphere, as if she was extremely kind and approachable.

A small little fact, I am also wearing glasses – mine are styled similarly but have more of a square shape. I mentioned them for a moment in chapter one but casually decided to leave them out until now.

Or, just forgot!

When you have these things on all day, they’re easy to forget, okay?

Even I don’t imagine myself with them on.

“It’s good to see you, master.”

The girl’s soft voice touches my heart as she pulls out a seat and sits down across from me.

Her smile shines bright and for a moment she makes me forget this sort of weird turn of events.

Is it usual for the maids to come and sit with you at your table?

At a glance around the room, I realize this definitely doesn’t seem to be the case.

“H-hi, h-h-how can I help you?”

Getting words out of my mouth at this point almost seems like an impossible task; despite feeling so at ease, it’s almost as if my brain thinks that if I talk, it will ruin this moment.

“I believe it is I, who is here to help you, master. One of the other maids let me know that you came here for me.”

I think there has been a very, very large misunderstanding here!

Extremely large!

“Ah. I’m kind of sorry about this, but I think you may have the wrong table.”

The girl’s smile remains constant, despite hearing that she has come here due to a mistake.

“A maid in the right will serve her master, even if she has found herself at the wrong table.”

Despite her proper mannerisms, her voice is calm and soft. Even the notion that I may be directing her away from the table makes me afraid that this feeling might end.

“And what about a maid in the left?”

The maid chuckles, much too loud and too long for such a terrible, terrible joke.

“I hope your wit is as amicable as your company. May I introduce myself to you, master? My name is Chika, written with the characters for knowledge and excellence.”