“By the way, may I ask what time we usually finish work in the evening?”
Ayumu Ayano had almost let the lure of money cloud his judgment—forgetting to ask something this crucial.
“We close at midnight. That’s when your shift ends.”
Midnight? Ayumu would definitely miss the last train home. A real hassle.
Noticing his hesitation, Michiko Sakai suggested gently, “How about this: every Saturday night, just stay over—either at the club or my place. On Sundays, you finish at ten, still enough time to catch the train back to Saitama City.”
“And of course,” she added, “even if you leave early Sunday, I’ll still pay the full fifteen thousand yen.”
Michiko had already compromised this much. Pushing back now would surely wear down her patience. The real problem? How to get his mother, Erena Ayano, to approve him staying out overnight.
A one-off sleepover at a classmate’s might pass, but *every* Saturday? That excuse wouldn’t hold water.
“Alright, I’ll call Mom later. But I won’t stay at the club or your place—I’ll just book a cheap hotel nearby.”
Simple reasoning: he didn’t want to burden anyone, nor sleep uncomfortably. Since Sunday shift started at 1 p.m., crashing at the club or Michiko’s would feel awkward tomorrow. Might as well spend a little of his hard-earned cash for decent rest.
“If you prefer outside lodging, fine. The love hotel next door is mine too. I’ll reserve a room for you every Saturday—just give your name. Business is slow there anyway. I’ll cover half; the rest comes out of your wages. Deal?”
“Mm, perfect,” Ayumu replied, genuinely pleased.
He *was* satisfied with the arrangement—but deeply suspicious. Opening a love hotel right beside the host club? Definitely ulterior motives.
On the surface, hosts “entertained but didn’t cross the line.” Yet after hours, it was tacitly accepted for willing hosts and clients to “chat all night” at the love hotel. Michiko had placed it there deliberately—likely even instructing her staff to steer clients next door. One thrived, both thrived; one fell, both fell. With the host club struggling, the love hotel suffered too.
“I’ll take you to buy two outfits, get your hair done, and shoot promo photos. Wait here—I’ll check on the club.”
Michiko left. Ayumu pulled out his phone to message Hinata Mizuno and his mom. Just then, it rang—Hinata was calling first.
“Hello, Mizuno, what’s up?”
“Ayumu-kun… have you already left?” her voice asked.
“Not yet. Why?”
“Oh… I might work late today. You should head home first.”
“Uh…”
Ayumu froze. He *wasn’t* going home tonight—that was certain. But he hadn’t prepared an excuse. No need to over-explain; Hinata wasn’t his guardian. She’d hear from Mom later anyway.
“Just… please don’t come to my cafe! I—I don’t mean I dislike you! It’s… it’d be troublesome for you to come all that way. Ayumu-kun, *promise* you won’t visit the cafe,” Hinata stammered, then hung up abruptly.
Ayumu barely caught her words—only a faint impression: *“Don’t come to the Cat Paw Maid Cafe.”*
On the other end, Hinata exhaled sharply. She’d called solely to keep Ayumu away—lest the “vixens” at work spot him. Someone as perfect as Ayumu? The other “maids” would pounce. She had zero confidence competing. If he got “stolen,” she’d have no one to blame. To lose after being “officially endorsed” from the start? Unforgivable.
…
Ayumu shelved the mom-explanation dilemma for later. After a short wait, Michiko returned.
“Let’s go. Time for your makeover.”
In Ayumu’s mind, hosts meant bleached hair, outrageous styles, slicked to a glossy shine. If *that* was Michiko’s idea of a “makeover”? He’d have to decline—politely, but firmly.
