Things were not okay. Particularly with Rachnera, who struggled to handle her own orders while preventing Miia from ruining hers. Her motherly streak had become her doom.
“Careful, Miia. Don’t forget to use the measuring cups. Eyeballing it won’t work. Check the brand before you pour. The recipe book is right here. The manager would want us to follow it.” Rachnera slung a web at the liquor shelves and tugged a bottle into her hand.
Miia flicked the tip of her tail into the shelves and took a different bottle. “Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, “10 milliliters, 20 milliliters, it’s basically the same! Measuring is pointless!”
“Hey, the customers can hear. Did you forget you screwed up an order already?”
“Come onnn!”
“Keep making mistakes and even our beloved Honey will get tired of it,” Rachnera said, trying to be motivational. She shook a cocktail shaker with a practiced hand.
“Ugh, fine. I’ll do my best!”
Since Kimihito had seen Rachnera get drunk off coffee before, she hoped success here would help restore her reputation. That meant making no mistakes, correcting as many of Miia’s mistakes as possible, and making full use of her innate caretaking abilities.
“Yo.” The bell on the front door rang to signal a new customer. Rather than waiting to be shown a seat, she swept in and took an empty stool at the bar. “I’m completely beat. I got sent mountain climbing as punishment for staying out without permission—how did that kobold stay so energetic the whole way?! I need something really strong tonight.”
“Oh, my,” Rachnera said, and a toothy smile spread across her face. “Is that Lilith? We didn’t even speak of the devil first.”
“H-huh?! Wh-what?! Mistress Rachnera?!” This customer didn’t look nearly old enough to drink, but her unusual eyes were full evidence that she wasn’t human.
Yes, it was Lilith, Rachnera’s demon friend. She wasn’t part of their household, but she’d caused problems there often enough and had even been “disciplined” by Rachnera once, after she’d almost brought harm to Kimihito. Whether Rachnera’s disciplinary measures were too harsh, they’d at least convinced Lilith to behave like a good little girl in their presence—not that any of those words applied to the young-looking adult demon.
“Why—when did you start working here, Miss Rachnera?”
“It’s just a favor for Smith. Don’t I look nice in the uniform, though?” She raised her arms and did a half-turn to show off.
“Yes, mistress,” her voice fell to a gentle, flirty tone, nothing like how she’d yelled as she entered. “Lovely as ever.”
It seemed that, though Rachnera had let Lilith free from their bondage session, some of the webs remained wrapped around her heart. “Well, what would you like to drink?” she asked.
“Oh, gosh, um…do you have any sweet, cute cocktails, maybe…?” She was really overdoing the adorable act.
“An El Diablo, then,” Rachnera replied, businesslike.
“Mmmh!” Lilith moaned at the mere name of the tequila-based cocktail. “A sexy, brusque older woman serving drinks really hits different.”
“Nobody else gets the brusque treatment.” That said, she honored Lilith’s earlier request and was generous with the liquor as she got to mixing.
“Lilith, you drink?” Miia asked.
“Hey! I’m here more often than you, snake woman! I’m a bona fide regular.” Lilith’s temper flared immediately in response.
“Wow, rude.”
“Ask the manager, I’m here all the time. Gimme the usual pizza, too.”
“Already done.” Kimihito came out of the kitchen in his apron with the pizza in hand. “You sure get along with him, don’t you?”
Lilith groaned. “And Miss Rachnera’s host is here, too.”
“Yeah. Rachnee would be fine without me, but I’ve got responsibilities, too.” He raised an eyebrow. “Wait, do you have permission to be here?”
“Of course. I’m getting pretty tired of punishments, so I made sure this time.” As soon as he set the pizza in front of her, she snatched a slice and shoved it whole into her mouth.
“Are you in the neighborhood often, Lilith?” Rachnera interjected.
“Oh, Miss Rachneraaa! I am! There are sooo many perverted old men in the red-light district. I make a lot of pocket money from them.” Her disposition changed again.
“That’s quite an admission,” Rachnera said diplomatically.
Had Lilith noticed that Zombina—from MON—was working behind her? She was busy with a customer, sure, but she kept glancing back at the bar. Someone’s getting a talking-to later. With any luck that’d be all she got. There could be real penalties if MON were in the wrong mood after the job placement experiment.
“Anyhoo. That’s how I found this bar. And now that I know you’re working here, I’ll be coming even more often!” Lilith said, resting her face in her hands and gazing adoringly at Rachnera.
“I’m just here for the night.” Rachnera slid the glass to Lilith. “Here’s your El Diablo.”
Lilith leapt at the glass and lifted it reverently to her lips. “Ohhh. Handmade with love by Miss Rachnera.” She drained it in one. “Ahhh! That hits the spot. Booze is the best! To booze!”
Rachnera sighed. “You’re as two-faced as ever.”
It was an obscenely strong cocktail, but that was perfect for a demon like Lilith. “For my kind, it’s sooo much more comfortable when there’s some discomfort, though. A lack of public safety.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes, Miss Rachnera. Japan is almost too safe for us! Though that lowers people’s guard and makes it easier to spring bad stuff on ’em.” She gave a tiny, dreamy sigh. Demons might appear to do what they pleased, damn the consequences, but Lilith had previously proven capable of concern. The fact that she hadn’t shown any at the idea of being caught for her misdeeds was troubling.
Zombina watched from among the crowd with sharp eyes. At least Lilith can’t cause trouble here, Kimihito mused.
Miia sidled into the conversation, messily shaking her next order. “How about this area? How safe is it here?” she asked Lilith.
“We’re close to the border between two prefectures, right? Which means it gets a lot of—not serious yakuza or anyone actually scary, but small-timers who wanna throw some weight around. Punks like that.”
“This bar feels so high-class, though.”
Lilith ripped apart the pizza and spoke through the mess of tomato and cheese: “Yeah, ’cause Master keeps it classy. Why d’you think I come here?”