IT’S NOT AN idol’s outfit. It’s not a waitress’s, either. It has the lightness and frivolity of frills but the stately and dignified nature of a service uniform. It’s easy to work in, of course, considering the original purpose of the clothing. Like so many other types of clothes imported to Japan, the Japanese people adapted it into their own unbeatable, sexy, adorable version. This is…the maid outfit.
And who wears maid outfits? Why, maids, of course.
✦ ✦ ✦
This paragraph was framed outside the entrance of a backstreet maid café in a quieter corner of Akihabara. There was another sign labeling this establishment “Café Marsha.” The paragraph posted outside was a special message from the owner, whose obsession with maids was clearly second to none.
Kimihito understood the owner’s enthusiasm, but there was something important missing from the description. What exactly is a maid?
Café Marsha was a popular maid café in the Tokyo Metropolitan Area and the next place on the work pilot program schedule.
“Ah! A maid café. So, ballads, chivalry, damsels in distress?” Centorea inquired.
“I think it’s a different type of maid.” Though Kimihito couldn’t be entirely sure with that signage.
“Guh,” Manako said. “I am so nervous.”
Today, Kimihito was escorting Centorea the centaur, also known as Cerea. The MON agent with them was Manako the cyclops, an elite sniper.
“Are you all right?” he asked her.
“I’m just fine,” she clipped, unable to bring her voice above a whisper. “As long as you’re here, Kimihito, I’ll do my best.” Manako clenched her fists and stared at him, her single eye glistening, though her tears seemed more desperate than determined.
Centorea, on the other hand, stood with her lips in a hard line and her eyes focused. It was clear they were both extremely nervous, even if they expressed it differently. “Milord…we are both unlikely to show any skill at customer service. We lack the experience.”
“Aw, it’ll be fine. There’ll be veteran maids there to teach you how to serve the customers,” Kimihito said, “or at least, that’s what I was told.”
“Veterans? Then we shall be in reliable hands,” Cerea said, not looking especially comforted.
“They said to wait at the door until someone comes for us.” It would only be a moment, he was sure. Akihabara was famous as maid city, and anyone who’d worked in this competitive area for a while would be an expert at customer service.
“Welcome!” a loud voice greeted them as the door opened. Despite its volume, the accompanying shadow was very small.
“Hm?” Kimihito tilted his head. The voice was familiar, too.
“Congratulations on the pilot program! I think it’s awesome that liminals want to join the workforce and that you’re willing to put in the hours to prove you belong! I’m your maid supervisor, Ren Kunanzuki!” She took a deep breath. “I personally volunteered to look after you! Let’s all do our be—eeeh?!”
“Ah, y-you’re—!” Kimihito yelled at her familiar face.
“You—!” Ren replied.
Centorea was mute with astonishment.
“I knew one of the liminals would be bringing her host, but I didn’t think it’d be you, Kurusu-san,” Ren Kunanzuki said, shaking her pigtailed head as she gaped at him.
“Um, do you know her?” Manako asked, tilting her head. She’d missed out on meeting Ren previously.
“Manako,” Kimihito said, “this is Ren Kunanzuki. She’s…uh…she was part of Rachnee’s original host family.”
“Rachnera’s origi—oh!” Manako’s eye widened as she realized the significance. When Rachnera first arrived in Japan, she had been hosted by the Kunanzuki family, including Ren. However, Rachnera accidentally hurt Ren, and the family decided she was too difficult to live with. They abandoned their duty as a host family and sold her to someone else. It’d been a shocking scandal and MON had gotten involved, so although Manako didn’t recognize Ren’s name, she certainly remembered the story.
“Does that mean…Rachnera-san will be here, too?” Ren asked, peering into the street behind them.
“Hm? No, Rachnee took a different assignment. It’s just these two,” Kimihito said.
“O-oh. I see.” She gave a little sigh. There was relief in it but also some disappointment. Her feelings about Rachnera must be much more complex than the rest of her family’s. Steeling herself, she spoke again. “Um…I would like to apologize for my actions when I came to your house. I caused a lot of trouble for you and your exchange group. I feel really bad about it.”
“Huh?” The Kunanzuki family had sent Ren to Kimihito’s house to ask for Rachnera’s return. She’d been pushy about wanting to live with liminals but hadn’t shown any consideration for their feelings or comfort, treating them like a difficult experience for her to brag about surviving later.
However, here she was, apologizing sincerely and sorrowfully. It seemed she’d learned a few lessons since then. “I thought about what you said, Kurusu-san, and I decided I’d get a customer service job to get some practice being polite. That’s why I’m working here!”
“At a maid café.”
“Yes! And I’m so good at it that when they needed a supervisor for the pilot program, the owner asked me! It’s nice to meet you all, and I’ll do my best as your teacher!”
“Oh ho,” Centorea said, impressed. She may have made a poor first impression, but Ren was putting real effort into her personal improvement. If the vaunted maid cafés of Akihabara valued her service, she had to have come a long way from her old self, objectifying liminals as a source of suffering for her to overcome. She must have really taken the girls’ advice to heart. “But there are so many customer service jobs you could have applied for. Why choose this industry? This establishment?”
Ren looked aside and fidgeted with her skirt. “Um, well, uh…that outfit Mero-san loaned me was so frilly and—how could I possibly forget it?”
“What?”
“Nothing, nothing! It’s Centorea-san and Manako-san, right? Come on in. Let’s get those maid costumes on so I can teach you the basics of customer service.”
“Rgh.” Centorea bristled, remembering how nervous she’d been before the shock of running into Ren.
“Ah,” Manako said, seemingly feeling the same way. Both their expressions grew stiff and anxious. Did Ren really have enough experience to be an industry veteran? Even if she did, would she be a capable teacher?
“L-looking forward to your tutelage, Ren,” Centorea said, though she sounded doubtful.
“Yeah, leave it to me! I know everything there is to know. We got this!” She gave an energetic little jump and punched the air overhead. She’d clearly matured and gained some experience at the café, but communicating it was a whole ’nother skill set. Would the girls be okay?
Kimihito looked across to Manako and Centorea, and a long silence passed between the three of them, anxiety written on all their faces. He felt like he had to encourage them, but before he could figure out what to say—
“Ah! That’s right!” Ren clapped her hands. “Manako-san, you’ve got some backup from MON.”
“Backup?” Kimihito asked. He hadn’t heard anything about this backup. He looked at Centorea and Manako in turn, but they both shook their heads, as confused as he was.
“Yeah! They came to cheer you on,” Ren reiterated.
Manako was at a loss, her one large eye clouded over with doubt and confusion.