“Welcome back, Mr. Nonomi.”
The welcome I get at the maid cafe is slightly different from the one I had received before. Last time they had just referred to me as sir, but this time they even greeted me formally with my family name.
This is some next level service!
Although, I can’t quite remember ever giving anyone here my full name, or even my name at all - but I may be mistaken on that front.
I assume I gave it to Chika…
It occurs to me that maybe that double agent maid might have divulged details of my prime-time drama to her coworkers; giving them a share of the goss if you would.
That pesky maid!
You make a lot of assumptions, you know?
Chika’s words come hurdling back to me; it’s as if she’s the angel in my ear setting me straight when I have gone astray.
A stray.
“Look what the cat dragged in.”
My attention is grabbed by the beautiful young maid emerging to the front of the cafe, almost as if coming all the way here just for me.
Never would I have thought my presence would garner the attention of a black-haired beauty such as this.
She barrels towards the entrance, the faint red glow in her hair becoming apparent as the sun strikes her.
The very maid I have come here to see!
As she approaches the front, the maid who had previously greeted me at the door shifts around to work on something else in the store, leaving just the two of us.
“That doesn’t seem to be a very maid-like greeting for your master.”
Master?
I’ve been in this store for about five seconds and I’ve already immersed myself in the atmosphere of the venue to the point where I’m roleplaying.
Such a scary place.
My face warms up as I try to repress the memories of a moment ago.
Chika points her nose to the ground as she looks up at me with glossy, almost feline eyes.
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“I-I’m sorry Master, it won’t happen again. Would you like me to get on my hands and knees and lick your boots?”
What kind of establishment has this become?
“You’re making this weird now, you’re not a cat!”
The maid laughs, her cute little giggles warming my body up instantly.
Grabbing my hand, she leads me to the same seat we had spent the day in last time. It looks as I remember it, the warm atmosphere of a victorian-era cafe encapsulated in its walls.
As I admire the cafe once again, I notice that all eyes are on me. More specifically, eyes are on my hand as it’s being held by a beautiful member of this institution's staff..
Something I gather now, is not a normal sight.
Patrons start staring at their attending employees longingly, with eyes full of desire.
I really hope this doesn’t set a bad precedent for what people expect when they come here! I promise not all the maids are like this.
Actually.
Even Chika isn’t usually like this!
Not that I can really speak for usually because we have only hung out the one time, but at least my impression of her wasn’t to this degree.
She was the one normal girl in this story.
As normal as you can get while working in an establishment such as this and also being extremely wealthy - like the heiress to a fortune.
Finally letting go of Chika’s hand as we sit on the table, I’m left with a sudden wave of embarrassment.
“What was that all about?”
The young maid puts her hand up to her chin and ponders for a moment. She’s somewhat reminiscent of a student stuck on a question during an exam.
Is that really such a hard question to answer?
In an instant, her finger shoots up.
“Eureka!”
“I asked you a simple question, not to solve the mysteries of the universe!”
She smiles and drops the previous facade, the calm and collected Chika that I have come to know enters the room.
The analytical observer.
Her acting skills are up to the task though, it’s starting to become more and more apparent why she has decided to work in such an establishment.
Not that it makes a whole lot of sense, considering her obvious financial background.
“When returning customers appear, I try out new methodologies, or as one might call it, different interpretations of the desirable maid. Some customers come back for the same warm presence, but others may have a different idea of what makes a particular maid style so likable.”
So basically she was testing out my fetishes to see what kind of maid experience I would like?
Ensnaring customers with a very subservient persona and then keeping them here by exploring their individual desires sounds so devious.
Like a succubus or something.
“I’m not a test subject!”
“You’re always so spirited, Akira. That is just what makes testing you so intriguing, the results aren’t quite like the other customers here.”
This conversation feels like it’s taken a turn for the worse. I thought that I’d be having a normal conversation with Chika, or at the very least, small talk with a maid.
“Why does it feel like you’ve turned more into a scientist than a maid in this scenario? Aren’t you dropping your character a little here?”
Last time I was in, she was having a hard time dropping the maid persona even when outside of the cafe.
Now, it hardly seems like that persona was here in the first place.
“There aren’t really bounds to the whole maid character, some maids are beautiful and sweet, whereas some are maybe a little more intelligent and devious.”
“And after our last meeting, you decided this was the persona I wanted?”
Do I look like a masochist that only likes women to barrage them with mental attacks to everyone?
Chika’s glare turns towards the window in a swift movement; her reflection beaming back at me as if I haven’t lost her sight, even when looking away.
“Do you even know what you want, Akira?”