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The grand dining parlor, one of many such rooms within this opulent four-storey mansion, was once again the setting of a most spectacular teatime. Princesses, knights, and monarchs alike gathered together to lunch on sumptuous scones, decadent sandwiches, and hand-selected teas from all around the globe, brewed to perfection.
The reality was, though, that this place was just a cafe. Black Hole Cafe, to be exact—a theme restaurant in which guests were aristocrats and the servers, their butlers. One such server, Butler Lonelywolf, was bringing a group their check.
“Okay, so you’re leaving now? Here’s this,” he said, limply tossing the leather-bound guest check presenter onto the table in front of them. The four friends giggled and hid their smiles behind their hands, blushing at Hoeru’s handsomeness and brusque demeanor.
“Thank you so much…!” one of them worked up the courage to say.
With a nod, Hoeru replied, “Sure thing, Young Mistress. Let me know when you’re done. I’ll escort you guys out, if you want.”
They erupted in squeals and flapped their hands at one another, which Hoeru decided to take as a yes. He gave them a bow of his head and turned to go check on another one of his tables. On his way rounding the corner, his boss stopped him with a tap on the shoulder. She looked up at him, wearing a grin and with happiness sparkling in her eyes right behind her distinctive red-rimmed glasses.
“You’re doing great today, Touno!” Boss said. “As you have been, of course. Gosh, I’ve never seen us this busy!”
He still wasn’t used to being praised. It felt so foreign. An awkward smile twisted on Hoeru’s lips. Happiness swirled inside him in the same way nausea felt.
“Um, thank you, Boss.”
“And you finally invited your friends!” she then exclaimed, giving him a playful push in the arm. “I’m glad, Touno. I’ll make sure they get that discount I promised.”
There went the happiness. He furrowed his eyebrows.
“My friends?” Hoeru repeated, confused and apprehensive.
“Ohh, I see.” Boss slowly nodded as though she had just solved an intriguing mystery. She hadn’t, because Hoeru had no clue what was going on. “So they came to surprise you, did they… Ah, and now I’ve ruined it. Well, I assigned you to them, so you’d better get over there. They’re in booth H.”
She fell in step behind him as Hoeru went to see the customers in the cafe’s furthest corner booth. The more he walked, the more and more he started getting a bad feeling about this. He pulled the booth’s gold-trimmed velvet curtain away to look inside, and he saw his doom.
In the seats sat Rikuo, Sumino, Kinjiro, and Ryugi. All four of them smiled cheerfully, waved, and sang together, “Hiiiii!”
“No,” Hoeru said. He walked in the opposite direction.
He didn’t get far before running bodily into his boss. He looked down at her and her outstretched hand on his chest, which had halted him in his tracks.
“Touno,” she said a bit testily, wearing a smile that served as a warning, “what seems to be the problem with our guests?”
It was terrifying how quickly and completely her demeanor had flipped. This had to be the consequences of putting customer satisfaction at risk. Hoeru opened his mouth to make excuses, but she didn’t give him the chance.
“I know your rudeness is your gimmick, but you don’t mean to outright refuse service to our highly valued guests, now do you?”
Hoeru shrank a little.
“Do you?”
“No, Boss,” he said, feeling somehow as though their tall and short statures were reversed. “It’s fine. I, uh, just have to go to the toilet. Yeah. But I’ll be back to serve the, uh…”
“The Young Mistress and the Young Masters,” Boss finished his sentence for him with a patronizing smile and a pat, pat that smoothed out his untidy lapels.
Something nasty curdled in Hoeru’s stomach. He actually did have to go to the bathroom now, to throw up or something. Blegh.
“Uh huh,” he shortly replied, then hightailed it around the corner.
Sumino puffed out her cheeks, planted her elbows on the table, and squished her fingers to her lips to make the biggest pout possible.
“Aww, man… He’s no fun,” she whined.
Kinjiro sympathetically set his hand on her shoulder.
“No fun at all!” he agreed, though it sounded more like, Nyo nyuh ah aw! because of the two cucumber finger sandwiches he had stuffed in his mouth. Some crumbs landed on his plaid suit and checkered tie, which he wiped away with the fancy cloth napkin in his lap.
“I’m not surprised,” Rikuo said, leaning back in his seat and putting his arm up on the backrest. His eye caught two nearby ladies in gothic lolita who were giggling and whispering about him, so he took a second to smile and wave. The girls’ butler had to scoop their limp bodies up off the floor and frantically fan their faces until they stopped having heart palpitations. Rikuo had already turned his head, so he had no idea this was happening. Sumino and Kinjiro, however, leaned to the side to stare at the scene.
Their attention returned to Rikuo when he said, “This kind of themed cafe means demanding roles for its waitstaff. I would argue that I, as a shimmering, dazzling idol, would be more suited to this work than Hoeru-kun for—”
Hoeru had returned and was at that moment getting another pair of Young Mistresses seated at their table. He still didn’t fully “get” the idea of pulling out a chair for a lady, so he and the women stared at one another for a full twenty seconds before his intense, unblinking gaze intimidated them into seating themselves. The four Gozyugers watched this too, then turned back to each other.
“—many reasons,” Rikuo finished.
“We are not here to pick up show business gigs, Byakuya,” said Ryugi, who all this time had been scouring and intensely judging the menu.
“Then what are we here for?” Kinjiro asked. “Is it to support Hoerucchi at his job? That’s it, right? I’d say it’s worth celebrating, since he’s kept it for longer than twelve hours already!”
“No,” Ryugi replied. His eyes were peeking out from above the unfolded menu. “This is a reconnaissance mission, Kinjiro-san. Incredibly serious business. We must discover the mystery as to how he has been able to retain this position, despite all of his…ah…everything.”
Rikuo said plainly, “You were curious about what kind of food a butler cafe serves.”
Ryugi paused. He proudly lifted his chin.
“Yes. I was curious,” he conceded.
Then Sumino said, with an adorably evil smile, “I’m here because I knew it would be funny.”
“Young Mistress, Young Masters."
They looked up to see Hoeru standing beside their table.
“Hope you liked your…‘horse devours’,” he said stiffly, his jaw tense and his brow furrowed. “Chef made ‘em special for you or something.”
He was severely half-assing the script he was meant to follow. The meaning was there, but he couldn’t be bothered to make it verbatim. The original text was respectful, polite, and humble; comparatively, Hoeru spoke like this was a dentist’s appointment he’d been dreading, and now he was five seconds away from strangling the hygienist that was closing in to clean his teeth.
“You…if you want, uh…so, tea is…” he stammered, then finally demanded in a hushed, stern tone: “Why are you here.”
“We were just talking about that!” Sumino said brightly and winked.
Rikuo suavely gestured with his hand and said, “Is it so wrong, so implausible, Hoeru-kun, that we would want to have the honor of witnessing your butlering prowess in action?”
“Yes,” Hoeru answered immediately. “What do you want.”
“To be served tea!” Kinjiro exclaimed, his eyes sparkling excitedly.
“I want scones!” Sumino added.
“I can’t help but wonder, can your chef cut sandwiches into the form of Tega Sword-sama as deftly as I can?” said Ryugi, smiling. “I bet he cannot. Hm-hm-hm,” went his self-important laugh.
“Look, can’t I get you guys a different server?” Hoeru asked.
“But I want to annoy—I mean, enjoy you!” Sumino said. “C’mon, can’t you do your job for lil’ ol us? You really won’t work for a girl this cute?”
Ryugi placed the menu down and spoke, serious and forthright.
“If you elect to serve us,” he said, “I may be so gracious as to consider removing a portion of your debt to the cafe. An equivalent exchange of service for service, as it were. After all, the holy texts make clear Tega Sword-sama’s teachings to respect the hard-won efforts of those who serve others.”
Hoeru blinked.
“He huh?”
Kinjiro said, “Come again? ‘The holy texts’?”
Sumino said, “Wait, wait, wait. Is there, like, a Tega Sword bible?”
A massive grin split across Ryugi’s face. He sat up even straighter in his seat and extravagantly declared, “I am so pleased that you asked! Indeed, the current canon contains fifteen volumes of Tega Sword-sama’s holy wisdom, hymns to be sung in his name, and parables to inspire his followers to live as he would command!”
“He wrote them all himself,” Rikuo said. “Every chapter is named ‘The Book of Ryugi’.”
Before Ryugi could start taking out handmade tracts and other evangelistic literature, Hoeru raised his hands in surrender.
“Alright, alright, alright. I’ll take that deal.”
The other four Gozyugers clapped and cheered in victory, which drew the attention of every single patron and butler in the cafe. Hoeru found himself wishing he really was at the dentist instead of being here, because getting a root canal would be better than this.
“Okay!” he shouted to shut them up. They all quietly smiled up at him. It gave him the creeps. He shivered. Next, Hoeru uncomfortably rolled his shoulders and asked, “How can I serve you the best today, Young Masters, Young Mistress?”
Rikuo, Sumino, Kinjiro, and Ryugi then turned their silent smiles to one another. Something was being communicated telepathically, or so it appeared. Something sly. Something sinister.
Hoeru shivered again.
“I’ll start us off!” Kinjiro exclaimed, pleasantly flipping open the menu and licking his thumb and forefinger to turn the pages, as an old man was wont to do. Sumino was leaning over his shoulder to look too, but she cringed when he did that.
Hoeru knew he was supposed to start speaking here, so he did, if falteringly.
“Young Master, can I suggest you try the Anna Maria afternoon tea set? It’s got, uh, all the scones with the jams and stuff like you wanted.”
Kinjiro tittered a giddy little giggle. “Young Master! Man, I really like the sound of that! Well, let’s see… I’m thinking…”
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Kinjii?” Sumino asked, smiling.
“I think so!” replied Kinjiro, who smiled back. “Therefore! I will order…”
A dramatic pause. The others raised their eyebrows.
“One! Of! Everything!!!” Kinjiro accompanied his announcement with some finger guns and airhorn sounds that he made with his mouth. Sumino clapped and bounced happily in her seat; that was, in fact, what she’d been thinking.
Hoeru was unmoved.
“...Everything?’
“That’s right, my good footman!” Kinjiro rubbed his hands together and grinned from ear to ear. He glanced down at the menu and began reading it off: “The tea service, with all five types of scones please, the mango mousse and the cherry charlotte cake, and there are, let’s see…one, two, three, four, five different pasta dishes! Perfectamundo!”
“Bring the absolute prettiest tea set, too!” Sumino added.
Hoeru was about to tell them how stupid and expensive of an idea that was, but then he caught sight of Boss out of the corner of his eye. The warm chandelier light glinted dangerously off of her glasses. He hurriedly turned back to the others and bowed his head politely. What the hell, he thought, sure. Sumino never particularly looked like she was hurting for cash. And maybe Kinjiro had money to burn in his pension or whatever it was old people had.
“Right away.”
He left, and when he came back, it was leading a train of three more butlers all carrying serving trays and tea stands. Their highly honed efficiency meant the Gozyuger’s table filled up with pastries, parfaits, and pastas in mere moments. They left as quickly as they arrived, leaving just Hoeru in the aftermath of this whirlwind, standing there holding an aromatic teapot.
“I’ve brought the tea,” he said, though no one seemed to be listening, as they all regarded the high-class food with stars in their eyes (or, in Ryugi’s case, picking plates up to squint at them skeptically).
Hoeru continued, “Today's tea is a black tea blended with bits of strawberry. Some lemon peel brightens it up, while hibiscus and lavender add a floral gentleness.”
This part of the script, Hoeru recited perfectly every time. He thought the subtle, delicate layers of flavors each tea uniquely possessed was pretty interesting. It wasn’t until this job, where he got to try a bunch of them, did he start to appreciate that.
Everyone stared at him, slack-jawed.
Hoeru stared back.
“...Do you want some, or?”
The other four jumped to say their “yeah”s and “yes please”s, nodding and gesturing for Hoeru to pour the tea. He did so, but when he got to Kinjiro’s cup, his wrist was stopped by one in gaudy plaid.
“Hold on just a second there!”
Kinjiro was preventing Hoeru from pouring the tea, and in his opposite hand, he was scrolling through the camera filters on his phone. He turned to Sumino and asked, “Which one should I go with? I like the one called dramatic. Ooh.”
She answered, “This part doesn’t matter so much, Kinjii. You can always edit it after, you know?”
“Oh! You’re right, I can! So many little features and doo-dads…”
Apparently satisfied, Kinjiro hunched his shoulders, lowered his head, and closed one eye to peer at the phone screen. His tongue poked out in his intense focus, trying to line the shot up juuuuust right.
“What’s going on?” Hoeru asked, and in his opinion, rightfully so.
“Oh! I’m taking cool pics for my Zyustagram!”
Forgetting his mission for a moment, Kinjiro excitedly opened the social media app and showed his page to Hoeru. Still frozen in his ready-to-pour posture, Hoeru could only give it a cursory glance. There were some food pics, including Ryugi’s godly hand-shaped creations, though all muddied by heavy filters. There were Kinjiro’s selfies, too, ones with just about every person he could trick into saying “cheese!” before they knew what was happening.
“I have a whole sixty-eight followers now!” Kinjiro proudly declared. “Which means I’m only one follower away from what Futoshi told me is the ‘funny number’! Now, bear in mind, I do have a sneaking suspicion as to why that might be, buuuuut I’ve been trying to get better about lecturing him on inappropriate things. It’s been making me lose serious street cred.”
“Okay,” Hoeru accepted all of this, because what else was he supposed to do. “So, should I pour your tea?”
“Ah! Yes please,” Kinjiro said and resumed his picture-taking position. “I want an action shot!”
He took burst photos of Hoeru’s white-gloved hand carefully filling his tea cup, moving the phone a little bit between each one, as Sumino had taught him, so that he’d have his pick of camera angles. He made sure the golden tea stand and the exquisite, elegant desserts were nicely framed in the background.
“Very nice… Very, very nice!”
When all was said and done, Kinjiro gave his pictures a once-over. He brought his phone close to his face and squinted at the screen. Then he extended his arm to hold it far away from him, still squinting.
Sumino noticed this and asked, “Don’t you have the eyes of an eagle?”
This gave Kinjiro pause.
“You’re right!” he laughed. “Force of habit.”
On the other side of the booth, Rikuo was thoroughly enjoying his tea and scones, while Ryugi was figuring out how to poke pasta around the plate so that it looked like Tega Sword.
“Hey, Rikucchi,” Kinjiro said to the former, “would you be in a picture? Maybe flash a peace sign for me! Or do the heart thing I can’t do with my fingers yet.”
The idol’s eyes flicked up, and he seemed to roll this request around in his mind, considering it seriously.
“Hmm… Well, alright. What’s the harm? I’ll just be sure to send you an invoice later.”
A bona fide photoshoot followed suit. Everyone took turns posing with the food or with their teacups, cheersing one another or giving big smiles. Kinjiro had Hoeru pose a few more times, too, to really capture the full effect of an afternoon spent at the butler cafe.
Finally, Kinjiro said, “Okay! I’m done.”
Hoeru sighed in relief. He had other tables he needed to attend to, and this had been hogging up all of his time.
“You can take it away now!”
Kinjiro smiled. Hoeru did not.
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, well…” Kinjiro tugged at the cuffs of his suit. “I’m finished taking pictures. I’d like to put in my real order, please.”
“Real… Real order…?”
“Yes! I don’t need any of this except for the tea. What I’d really like to eat is omurice!”
“That’s…not how this works. You already ordered all of this, you can’t—“
“Ahah, yet by being in our presence, it has been improved!”
Ryugi proudly displayed the five small plates of pasta. Each and every little noodle had been arranged to form a hand shape, with garnish anointing the ring finger. It was a nigh-impossible feat of divine piety and dexterity with a fork.
“Most assuredly, these dishes can be resold to another patron. And at triple the asking price, in my opinion, now that they depict the glory of Tega Sword-sama!”
Hoeru was gearing up to argue some more when Rikuo cleared his throat. Hoeru looked down and saw a small cartoon the idol had doodled on a scratch piece of lined paper. It depicted Hoeru turning up his nose at the requests of the other Gozyugers, with the natural consequence (indicated by an arrow) being his bill at the cafe never receiving debt relief, continuing to grow, and Hoeru winding up sad and penniless, with flies escaping his wallet.
Ryugi pushed the plates toward Hoeru, which made him look back up. Ryugi’s eyebrows were raised and wiggling, enticing Hoeru to take them. It was the only solution left, especially with everyone else avoiding eye contact. Kinjiro was editing a photo to put kitty ears on everyone. Rikuo had put away the drawing and now was fiddling with his necklace. Sumino was cleaning her nails. Hoeru took in a big breath and sighed.
“Alright.”
Thankfully, the ladies he served the pasta to (the tortegalini, or so it was dubbed) didn’t seem to mind the strange shape. In fact, it made them squeal in delight. Apparently, a ringed hand screamed marriage proposal to them, which was such a scandalous and thrilling thing for a butler to serve his Mistress. Boss encouraged Hoeru to lean into it, so he did.
He hoped he didn’t actually have to marry those five girls in order to keep his job. That wouldn’t be very fair to any of them.
Hoeru was summoned back to the table of his nightmares by Sumino, who was daintily ringing the hand bell for his attention.
“Oh, Mister Butler!” she sweetly called. “Mister Lonelywolf~!”
As he approached the booth at an angle, the same way you’d walk up to a horse that could kick at any second, Hoeru asked, “Yes, Young Mistress?”
“Y’know, I like to do my research before I go anywhere,” Sumino said as she twirled a teaspoon around in her cup. “And I know that here, the butlers are supposed to roleplay with you. Like, if I told you something, anything, you’d have to ‘yes, and’ me. Isn’t that right?”
Hoeru hesitated.
“...Yeah, technically.”
“Then that’s what I want to do!”
Sumino excitedly brought her hands together by her cheek and fluttered her eyelashes.
“That’s an important part of a role like this,” Rikuo said, “and the most difficult. To remain in character, while also retaining the boundaries between each other as server and customer, all while providing the utmost in entertainment and charm.”
“It’s not that hard,” Hoeru snapped; not in anger, but pride.
“Well then, Mister Lonelywolf!”
Sumino shot out her hand in front of her, the opposite one flying up to rest on her forehead, the universal pose of a woman about to faint. This made Kinjiro, sitting beside her, jump a whole inch in surprise. He held her upright by the shoulders, even as she woozily swayed to and fro.
“Oh no! Oh, my goodness!”
She put a melodramatic affectation on her voice that made her sound very, very, very wealthy. Everyone was watching Hoeru expectantly, even Sumino herself, who was peering at him out of the corner of one open eye. Hoeru cleared his throat.
“Uh, what’s wrong, my lady?”
“It’s terrible! Oh, the worst thing to happen to me ever I think!”
“What’s terrible, my lady?”
“It’s…it’s…my earrings.”
Sumino clutched her heart in agony.
“Oh, it’s too cruel!” she cried. “My precious twenty-four karat gold diamond encrusted earrings! I’ve lost them!”
“How do you lose earrings?” Hoeru asked, being genuine. “They’re attached to your ears. Isn’t that the point?”
The gasp that came out of Sumino’s mouth was enough to make everyone at the table sit up, positively riveted, and seemingly forgetting that none of this was real.
“Are you saying it’s my fault I lost them, Mister Lonelywolf?”
“Uh.”
This felt like a trick question.
“...No?”
“Then help me find them! As my servant, I need you to find these precious earrings for me that were a present to me from the queen, and don’t you dare ask which queen, because it's top secret and a serious matter of international intrigue!”
“Okay,” Hoeru accepted all of this, because what else was he supposed to do. “I’ll look around the manor for you, my lady. What do they look like?”
“Like this one!”
Sumino tucked her hair behind her ears, revealing a luxurious and sparkly dangling earring in her right earlobe, but not the left.
“Oh, you actually lost an earring,” Hoeru said.
“I hid it while you were serving other people!” Sumino said and winked. Then, returning to her rich lady persona: “Oh, help me! Help, help!”
She grabbed Hoeru’s hands and yanked him close so he could get the full effect of her watery eyes and trembling lip.
“Mister Lonelywolf…you are my last hope. I dread to think if they’ve disappeared entirely, or worse, stole— Are you wearing circle lenses?”
Everyone leaned in to see. Hoeru really did have cosmetic contacts in, which made his eyes look larger, and his irises a moody steel gray.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, they’re so cute, wait, what brand are they—?”
“Do you want me to look for your earring?”
“Oh. Yeah, I do. Good luck!”
Knowing that Sumino was tricky, Hoeru searched every corner of the butler cafe, high and low. He peered under tables, looked below teapots and teacups, checked his coworkers’ breast pockets, and even tried to see if any customers had had the missing earring surreptitiously planted on them. He got down on his hands and knees, checking for loose floorboards. He got out the stepladder and looked in the crevices on top of the booths. While he was up there, Boss got him to dust a few cobwebs. Useful and good for atmosphere; two birds, one stone. Still, despite all of his efforts, Hoeru wound up with nothing to show for it.
He couldn’t resolve the ‘scene’ between him and Sumino by coming back empty-handed, though. Without any announcement, he walked down a hallway and disappeared.
“Awwww,” Sumino moaned, “did he give up?”
“It seems like it,” Rikuo replied. “Though I didn’t imagine his solution would be to run away.”
“This is not the level of perseverance that Tega Sword-sama would want from him,” Ryugi said, shaking his head slowly in disapproval. “Let it be known, there will not be any cafe debt relief in his future, at this rate.”
Kinjiro offered, “Maybe he needed the bathroom!”
“You’re eighty-seven!” was Ryugi’s retort. “You use the restroom eight times a day.”
“I am not eighty-seven!”
“But you’re not denying the eight times a day part?”
“Eating as many eggs as I do can make you really constipated, Sumipoyo.”
“Alright, that’s enough, Pops, thank you.”
“I’m just answering you honestly!”
“Excuse me, my lady.”
Hoeru had returned amidst everyone’s bickering. Unexpectedly, he held a pair of small needle nose pliers in one of his gloved hands.
“I wasn’t able to find your missing earring,” he said. “Sorry. But I still want to see your smile, so here’s this to make up for it.”
Unfolding the fingers of his other hand revealed two lengths of thin wire, black with a glossy sheen. Right before their eyes, Hoeru used the pliers to twist the wires this way and that with exacting precision. Everyone watched his creative process, spellbound. After just a few moments of work, Hoeru presented to Sumino the result: two dangling wire earrings bent into the extremely intricate shape of a galloping unicorn.
“Oh, wow.”
“That’s incredible!”
“Now I know what they mean, avant-garde…”
“Okay, maybe he actually is good at this.”
At this, Hoeru abruptly interrupted everyone’s commentary.
“You thought I wasn’t good at this?”
A silence fell over each of them. Then, sincerely smiling, Sumino reached out to accept the handmade earrings.
“Thanks, Hoeru. I like them.”
As she put them in her earlobes, she admitted to him that she’d kept the ‘missing’ earring in her purse the entire time. It was funny to watch him search so desperately, but she never expected she’d get new jewelry out of the deal. Unfortunately, however, this meant that a line formed of curious patrons who were now interested in Hoeru’s wire sculptures. Boss charged them each ¥5,000 a pop, and told him to keep up the good work. Hoeru couldn’t complain. Except about aching fingers.
As their reservation time block was nearing its end, Hoeru stopped at the Gozyugers’ table one last time to ask if there was anything else he could do for them.
“Me personally,” Kinjiro said, “I’ve had a marvelous time! My pictures already have fourteen likes! Let’s gooooo!”
He raised his hand for a high five. Hoeru awkwardly patted his gloved palm to Kinjiro’s.
“That’s good,” he said. “Anybody else?”
Sumino was busy admiring herself in a compact mirror, touching up her concealer and smiling at her new earrings.
“All good from me!”
In a move that surprised them all, Rikuo stood up from the table. He assumed an elegant pose with his fingers running through his hair, but only very lightly, less he ruined his hairstyle.
“I’ve yet to issue a challenge to our sharp-suited puppy,” he declared.
Hoeru merely nodded.
“Okay. What can I do for you?”
Another dramatic pose from Rikuo: a hand placed on the hip and the other gesturing gracefully.
“I’d say you’ve done quite well for yourself so far. But I am certain that, if we were to go head to head, I would be the better butler!”
And lastly, he flashed his winning white smile and extended an arm to point at Hoeru, lifting his chin in a confident way that made ladies’ hearts melt.
“With the last of our time, I invite you to prove yourself as a butler! Allow me the opportunity to serve guests, and I’ll show you that Byakuya Rikuo would be the Number One Butler!”
“We already did that.”
Hoeru’s bluntness brought the moment’s rising inertia to a screeching halt.
“What?”
Hoeru glanced around at everyone and shuffled his feet a bit.
“Yeah, a Number One Butler battle? We did that one already.”
“Oh,” Rikuo said, disappointed. “Okay.”
He returned to his seat.
“Is that all, then?” Hoeru asked, and his eyes ultimately fell on Ryugi.
The yellow Gozyu was leaning far back in his seat, wearing a deeply thoughtful expression, his fingers templed and pressed to his lips.
“I suppose…your work was adequate.”
Hoeru smiled.
“However!” Ryugi said, “I believe, in matters of butler cafe, we are even. I see no rational reason to provide debt relief for your tab at Tega Sword Village.”
Hoeru frowned.
“What do you mean, ‘even’?”
Ryugi explained, with his nose held high: “For all of your excellent service today, I gave you, in exchange, an infinitely improved pasta dish for your customers to enjoy. Of course, all things are made better by Tega Sword-sama, so this should not come as a surprise. By way of my consummate skills and unshakeable faith, I rendered you that impeccable service, and so, we are even.”
“Yeah, makes sense,” said Sumino.
“Seems hashtag legit to me!” said Kinjiro.
“The pasta art was impressive, given how tiny those plates were,” said Rikuo.
“I have to agree!”
Everyone looked to the new voice, Hoeru turning his head to glance over his shoulder. It was his boss. She wore the long, cunning, capitalistic smile that only a lead shift supervisor could smile. She approached the booth, drawing in close to look carefully at each Gozyugers’ face.
“Yes… Yes… Yes…!”
Hoeru didn’t like how much she sounded like a mad scientist on the verge of an apocalyptic breakthrough. He could also recognize the look in her eyes.
“You’re all so charming!” Boss exclaimed. “Adorable faces, interesting talents, unique character tropes…”
She pressed her hands together.
“How would all four of you like to be butlers here?”
This terrifying notion was enough to bring Hoeru to the floor.
“Oh my god!”
“Hoerucchi?!”
“Did he faint?”
“Touno?”
Hoeru heard none of this. His unconscious mind was done with this nightmare and preoccupied with self-soothing; he dreamt up a paradise. A paradise of peace and quiet and endless, free-of-charge, hand-shaped pasta.