After breakfast, Kuroki Eina headed off to work. Mizuno Hina took charge of the dishes, leaving Kuroki Ayumu alone on the sofa, feeling quietly dejected.
Today was Saturday—the first weekend Ayumu had spent in Japan. A two-day break wasn’t long, but not short either. Wasting such a rare holiday entirely on studying felt wrong. He should relax a little and balance work with rest.
“Ayumu-kun, do you have any plans for the weekend?”
Having finished the dishes, Hina sat beside him. The sofa was tiny, forcing her to sit right next to him. Ayumu stiffened slightly.
“I don’t have any. How about you?” he replied, trying to sound calm.
“I have a part-time shift in Shinjuku later. I’ll head out soon.”
Ayumu was genuinely surprised. Hina worked weekends too—proof of how steadily she pursued her voice actress dream.
“What kind of job is it in Shinjuku?” he asked.
“At a maid café…”
“Playing a maid?”
He cut her off before she could finish. He’d heard of Japan’s maid cafés but never visited one. No wonder he was startled.
“No! I don’t do that part. I handle the kitchen,” Hina hastily corrected, flustered.
After her explanation, Ayumu finally understood. Japanese cafés serve coffee, desserts, snacks, and full meals. Maid cafés differ mainly in staff: beautiful girls in black-and-white maid outfits. Their role? Taking orders and delivering “service”—cute, elegant, cool, or playfully flirtatious. Sadly, Hina wasn’t a front-of-house maid. She worked backstage as a kitchen assistant, helping prepare orders.
Listening, Ayumu grew thoughtful. A quiet urge stirred: *I really want to see it for myself.*
“Ayumu-kun… you wouldn’t… want to go to the maid café, would you?”
From his curious gaze, Hina saw longing. She’d assumed only otaku cared about such places. Not Ayumu too.
“To be honest, I’m curious. Could I come with you?” he asked.
“Mm.”
Her reply held little warmth—a hint of jealousy. She worried he’d stare at the cute maids in uniform. After agreeing, Hina sank into self-doubt. *I’m not cute. I’m gloomy. Unlikable.* When he saw those radiant “maids,” he’d surely find her plain. Logic said refuse. But this was their first outing together—her heart had already labeled it a “date.” She couldn’t say no. A tiny spark of anticipation flickered anyway.
…
Shinjuku Ward, one of Tokyo’s 23 special wards, is Japan’s iconic commercial hub—dubbed “Shopping Paradise.” Bordering Saitama Prefecture, it’s under an hour by train from Saitama City. Many Tokyo salarymen live there: close, convenient, and far cheaper than Tokyo housing.
Weekends flood Shinjuku with crowds, leaving shops short-staffed. Hina’s maid café was no exception.
Stepping into Shinjuku, Ayumu took in the vibrant streets. He’d braced himself, yet still felt a little stunned. Following Hina, he glanced around, half-convinced he was the only person still in school uniform. Frustration prickled. His closet held no normal clothes. Those flashy outfits would mark him as a delinquent instantly. And with his pride? He’d never wear anything that embarrassing.
*I’ll buy a couple of casual outfits while I’m here,* he decided. Drop Hina off, peek inside, then shop alone. He was still weighing whether to grab coffee at the café when they arrived.
Ten meters ahead, a girl in a black-and-white maid uniform handed out flyers. Seeing her in person, Ayumu finally grasped the outfit’s sheer impact.
“Mizuno… is that one of your café’s maids?”
“Yes,” Hina replied, voice tinged with jealousy.
Unfamiliar with the flyer girl, Hina walked straight in. The café’s name—*Cat Paw Maid Café*—had puzzled Ayumu earlier. Stepping inside, everything clicked.
“Welcome back, Master! Meow~”
Two girls in maid dresses, black cat ears, and plush paws with pink pads greeted him in bubbly tones, ending with a coquettish “Meow~” that radiated charm.
Now Ayumu understood. “Catgirl + maid”—a combo targeting most guys’ hearts. Even he had to admit: he wasn’t immune to these adorable catgirl maids.
“Mizuno… I-I won’t go in. Don’t want to disturb your work. I’ve got other things. I’ll leave first.”
He hurried off, masking his fluster. Yep, he chickened out. Those catgirl maids were dangerously cute—way past his tolerance limit. Stay longer? He feared he’d completely lose his cool.
