Lian sprawled over the table, limp as a salted fish sunning on a bamboo rack.

“I’m so bored… Why won’t big sis Hatsune play with us anymore?”

Alicia ruffled Lian’s small head, amused, watching her cling like a kitten kneading a cushion.

“She can’t help it. Tonight’s concert is looming like a sky of stage lights; Hatsune’s gotta prep.”

Last night, Hatsune and the others played till the moon slipped toward dawn like a silver boat.

They meant to pull an all-nighter, but she jolted like a sparrow at thunder, remembering she had to sing tomorrow night.

Her set wasn’t ready, her songs scattered like autumn leaves, so she waved goodbye and slipped back home to prepare.

After Hatsune left, Alicia checked the time, the clock hands crawling like slow ants.

Lian stayed wired, bright-eyed like a child at a lantern fair. Alicia’s smile warmed like a hearth.

No more talk; she scooped Lian home, gentle as lifting a drowsy cat, and pressed her to bed with that old line: kids who don’t sleep won’t grow tall.

Morning came, pale as rice paper.

Lian headed to the meeting room, wanting a task, heart fluttering like a moth seeking a lamp.

But everyone’s work ran smooth as a water mill—no cracks, no chaos.

They shooed Lian off to play, hands waving like fans. A thought pricked her: am I… useless?

Thus, the salted-fish version of Lian surfaced again, drifting in boredom like a piece of floatwood.

“How about we check out the maid café? They weren’t open last night. We haven’t been.”

The word “café” lit Lian up like fireflies in a jar.

“Yeah yeah! Let’s go, let’s go!” She grabbed Alicia’s hand and tugged like a stream pulling a leaf.

— Maid Café —

At the entrance, Lian froze, stunned like a deer before a sudden lake.

This café wasn’t what she’d pictured at all.

She’d expected scattered stalls like mushrooms after rain, each claiming a corner.

Instead, in less than a day, those maniacs raised a building the size of a gym, its beams neat as combed hair.

They’d brought in five hundred earth mages, stones rising like bread in an oven.

Even Lian could’ve done it alone, brick on brick like stacking tofu—but even she knew that kind of dumb flex invites thunder.

Seeing Lian drift off, Alicia nudged her like tapping a drum.

“Come on, Lian. Why are you spacing out?”

“Mm-hmm. Let’s go in.”

Jingle.

The bell over the door chimed like a copper bird.

A maid in frills glided up, voice sweet as honey on warm tea.

“Will the two masters be dining with us today?”

Alicia, long used to maids, answered smooth as water over stone, unlike the little loli beside her whose eyes sparkled like stars.

“Yes.”

The maid nodded and gestured with a wrist like a willow branch.

“Please, this way.”

Once they sat, the maid offered a menu trimmed like a festival fan.

“Please order.”

Lian took it, and her face darkened like storm clouds rolling over a field.

What even is this?

“Omelet rice made with a maid’s love”—fine, at least you can tell what it is.

But “Cat-eared, white-stockings schoolgirl hand-made rice”? That’s just a bowl of plain rice dressed up like a mannequin. Sure, “cat ears and white stockings” have their, uh, appeal, but this level of bait is brazen enough to scare pigeons.

Worst was “Special Knockout Black Tea by the Beast.” You’re selling that here? Don’t push it!

Without noticing, Lian’s small hands crumpled the menu like dry leaves.

Alicia saw the storm brewing for no reason and stepped in like rain easing summer heat.

“We’ll have two regular omelet rices and two black teas, thanks.”

“Two omelet rices and black tea… Could we do just the black tea?”

Lian snapped, anger flaring like a firecracker. “Don’t play the meme so hard, damn it!” She whipped the menu toward the maid like a slung fan.

The maid met the sudden attack without a flicker of fear. One hand rose, catching the menu mid-flight like a falcon snaring prey.

Lian’s eyes narrowed, her face setting like stone. Even that strike got stopped. This one… terrifying.

“Enough, Lian. Sit. Don’t make a scene.”

Alicia’s words fell cool as shade. Lian puffed her cheeks and sat, and the maid murmured, “I’ll step back then,” retreating like a wave sliding off sand.

Once she’d gone, Alicia turned to Lian, who’d been bristling like a hedgehog since a minute ago.

“So… what was that even about?”

“Nothing. Hmph.”

Alicia could only give a helpless little smile, soft as fog on a pond.

Service here moved fast, swift as chopsticks snatching a dumpling. In under ten minutes, their dishes arrived.

The blonde maid carrying the tray looked familiar, like a face glimpsed in a dream.

“Please enjoy the omelet rice crafted with the love of me and my sister, Alicia-sis, Lian-sis~” Flan chimed in a bright, tinkling loli voice.

Alicia blinked, surprise washing over her like a cool breeze.

“Flan? You’re here too?”

“It’s nothing. We were asked to help. They said having a professional maid would really boost the opening. Alicia-sis won’t be mad at us, right~?”

Alicia got it in a heartbeat; they were using their own maids as free coaches, like borrowing fire from a neighbor’s stove.

“Speaking of, where’s Remi?”

“In the back, cooking. Want me to call her out?”

Alicia waved quickly, like shooing sparrows.

“No, let her work. Remi’s getting more and more into being a maid lately.”

Silent till now, Lian sighed, her breath drifting like a ribbon.

“Yeah. Makes you feel sorry for a certain Sakuya in some other world~”

Flan tilted her head, brow quirked like a question mark.

“Sakuya… miss?”

“It’s nothing. Anyway, you hired a lot of maids here~”

Seeing Lian steer away, Flan didn’t chase.

“Mm-hmm. But half the maids here are actually guys~~”

She said it loud enough to carry, voice bubbling like spring water.

And then time seemed to freeze, the room going quiet as snow. Everyone fell silent.