Why, why did I have to run into Shizuku—*here*, *now*?

I’m still in my maid outfit… Ugh, so embarrassing. I wanna pull this skirt over my head.

No. Run. Pretend none of this happened.

“Yukieda?”

Shizuku peered curiously past the menu—at a single strand of hair sticking up.

“I’m not Oriuchi Yuki, honored guest!” Yukieda squeaked, spinning to flee.

“Wait, Yukieda!”

Shizuku reached out, but Yukieda faced away. Her thick silver hair cascaded down, nearly hiding her perky rear. Yanking hair would hurt. Panicked, Shizuku hooked a finger under Yukieda’s stocking garter.

Yukieda froze like a robot powered off. A slight tug—her underwear shifted. Face burning crimson, she spun back, swatted Shizuku’s hand away. *Snap!* The garter rebounded against her tender thigh.

They stood frozen, wide-eyed. Yukieda sighed in resignation. “Wait… I’m busy right now.”

Later, the café emptied. A new staffer arrived—Keirou’s evening shift hire.

At a window-side four-seater, Yukieda sat stiffly beside Shizuku like a scolded elementary student. Across sat Mai, posture relaxed. Yukieda stared at the street outside, golden eyes heavy with melancholy.

Shizuku spoke first.

“Yukieda… the maid outfit suits you. You look lovely.”

“Th-thank you.” Yukieda flushed slightly.

Shizuku tilted her head. “Do you… work here part-time? Wait—” Her expression shifted. “Are you short on money?”

Memories flooded her: Yukieda buying pricey ingredients daily, cooking dinners at her place. *Was she quietly earning to support me?* Shizuku recalled Yukieda’s words: *“Tell me if you need money.”* Yet she’d hidden this alone. Shizuku’s eyes softened—touched, aching.

“No! Not at all!” Yukieda waved hands frantically. *If she thinks I’m poor, she’ll refuse my gifts.* “It’s… a hobby! See? My hair color matches the outfit, right?” A strained chuckle.

Shizuku looked skeptical but made a silent decision.

Yukieda pivoted sharply toward Mai, golden eyes narrowing like a startled fawn’s.

“How’s Mai’s drone tuning going?”

*You said you were busy today. Why are you with my daughter?*

“Fine.”

Getting nowhere, Yukieda turned back to Shizuku. “So many customers today! See that new maid café across the street? Packed…” She babbled nonsense, then swerved. “How was *your* day, Shizuku?”

“Huh? Me? I watched TV… then called Mai to pick up the laundry once it dried.”

Yukieda tensed. “She didn’t make you drink weird tea, did she?”

Shizuku blinked. “No! She took me to fly a drone. First time—I kept messing up. Mai’s so skilled, so knowledgeable!” Her face lit up.

*Drone?* Yukieda’s mind flashed: *Expensive. Elite. Only for the privileged.* (She didn’t know it was military-grade.) *If Shizuku likes it… I’ll buy her one after payday.*

Mr. Keirou approached, tray in hand, grandfatherly smile warm.

“Friends of Oriuchi’s? First round’s on me. My blend’s not half bad.”

No one objected. Keirou paused, mustache twitching as he stared at Mai.

“Mai?”

“It’s me, Grandpa.”

Yukieda and Shizuku froze, eyes darting between Mai and Keirou. *The owner… is Mai’s grandfather?*

Keirou coughed, flustered. “Mai, come with me. Yukieda, grab drinks for everyone.”

Inside the staff changing room, Keirou locked the door.

“You… sigh. You’re *you*, Mai. No need to wear another’s skin. Live your own life.”

He shook his head. “This is fine, Grandpa. Don’t worry.”

Keirou dropped the argument. *Maybe one day she’ll understand—her sister’s death wasn’t his fault. He needn’t live “for her.”*

“How’s Mom?”

“Same as always. Visit her?” Keirou’s voice softened.

“…I will. It’s been a while.”

“How long are you staying?”

“A while.”

“Tell Kenji… no guilt.”

“…Okay.”

Keirou forced a grin. “Those two girls out there—do they know your gender?” *Please, let her have a girlfriend. Not… a boyfriend.*

Mai sighed faintly. “One knows. One doesn’t.”

Keirou beamed. *The black-haired girl with her must be the one who knows. Poor Yukieda’s still in the dark.* His smile vanished. “Don’t take advantage. Yukieda’s earnest. What’s the black-haired girl’s name?”

“Shizuku. Sanjou Shizuku.”

“Lovely. Treat her well. Lose her, and I’ll have words.”

Back at the table, Yukieda sucked her drink hard through a straw. *Normally I’d scoff at straws—“girly”—but with this tiny mouth? Efficiency wins.*

“Keirou and Mai must have so much to share… I wish I could talk with my dad too.” Shizuku’s eyes glistened.

Yukieda choked on the last sip, coughing violently.

Shizuku patted her back gently.

“If you need to talk… I’m here.” Yukieda met her gaze, warmth and sincerity in her eyes.

Shizuku blinked, then smiled wryly. “Sorry for worrying you.”

“No! Seriously—tell me anything!” Yukieda flapped her hands.

Shizuku laughed softly, pulling Yukieda into a hug, chin resting on her head.

Yukieda’s eyes spun like a top—but her body stayed perfectly still.

“Shizuku…”

Keirou returned with Mai, unusually cheerful. “Dinner’s on me tonight!” His eyes kept drifting toward Shizuku.

*Impossible to miss.* Yukieda’s daughter-mode sensors blared. *Why’s he staring at my daughter?*

No refusal.

During dinner, Keirou poured sake—but drank alone. “You,” he said firmly to Yukieda, sliding over milk. “This suits you better.”

After three rounds of milk, warmth flushed Yukieda’s cheeks. Keirou chuckled. *Surprisingly easy to talk to… though she sounds oddly mature for her age.*

Suddenly—

*Beep. Beep.*

Yukieda’s and Mai’s terminals chimed in unison.