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Your stomach growled as you stood in front of a maid cafe—the nearest store that sold your only source of nourishment: sweets and treats! Sure, you’re starving, but that doesn’t mean you’ll just chow down on anything—NO, you’re no hoe for food… It was only the sweetness of sugar that could satiate this kind of hunger.
You enter a bright yellow door and are greeted by a staff member in a pink maid uniform with big, bright red ribbons protruding from her back and the side of her head. So big, the one on her head practically covered her face. She escorts you to a table, tripping and bumping into other blinded maids on the way, but she gets you there nonetheless. Handing you the adorably decorated menu, she tells you to take all the time you need and makes a heart from her hands, shooting it towards you. How cute! You look through their selection and immediately spot the irresistible physique of a chocolate parfait topped with a light and airy whipped cream, garnished with a single, large heart-shaped strawberry.
You call a maid to get your order, and one comes running as if she were going to be late for school with a slice of bread in her mouth. The bread being... an actual piece of bread. Actually… the longer you look at her, the more you notice her messy hair, her uneven makeup, and her flat ribbon.
“Excuse me, how may I take your order, Master?” She queries as she puffs up the ribbon on her head and clumsily pulls out a notepad with a lazily drawn cat on the cover.
You fix your posture and prep yourself.
“I’d like the Gari-Gari Puru-Puru Fuwa-Fuwa Never-Forget-Me Chocolate Covered Usagi-kun’s 3-Star Michelin Famed Choco Parfait!”You state, quietly huffing to keep your nonchalant front.
“Of course, Master! Anything else you would like to order?”
“And a glass of Oolong tea on the side, please.”
“Oh, thank you so much for your order, Master! I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
And off she went, heading to the kitchen—CRASH!
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — An Hour Later…
SHE LIED! ‘Back in a jiffy!’ It’s been an hour, for crying out loud! Your stomach wasn’t growling anymore at this point. It was wailing in hunger… filling your ears and aching your head. You slouched into your seat, hungry and bored out of your mind, till you heard a familiar slur of words coming from your left. Glancing over, you see the maid that took your order standing beside a man in a strange kimono with silver-permed hair.
“—Usagi-kun’s 3-Star Michelin Famed Choco Parfait. Two of it, actually.”
“Of course, Master! Anything else?”
“And a glass of strawberry milk, please.”
“Understood! Thank you for your order, Master! I’ll be back in a jiffy!”
And off she went. As she left, though, you could see the man take an obvious peek at her skirt before she stepped on an ice cube and slid off into the kitchen—CRASH!
You were on the verge of losing consciousness. Your stomach’s given up on growling and now just feeds off your life force. You could feel yourself slipping. Away. From this… HELL—
“Umm… ma’am? I have your parfait and—“
In a flash, you return to your senses and sit promptly on your chair. With a wide grin, you jerk your head to the maid, eyes glistening with gluttony and—
“I. I didn’t order two parfaits,” you muttered, “nor that glass of strawberry milk.”
She quickly bows to be excused and heads to the kitchen for the order slip and jolts. She looks back at you, giving an awkward smile before heading to the perm head that ordered an hour after you.
You could only stare in utter annoyance—no—despair? But all you could do was just watch as he carefully scooped a piece of chocolate ice cream covered in whipped cream and pink sprinkles and slowly... took a bite of it.
“Oh, Master! I’m extremely sorry for my mistake earlier. Here’s your order!”
The clank of the plate as it hit the table was music to your ears at this point. An hour and thirty-five minutes and twenty-seven seconds of anticipation and cravings, all for this parfait. The maid does her routine of making your food taste better with beams of love till it was finally just you and it. Grabbing a spoonful, the moment you take a bite, tears begin to roll down your cheeks. The room was silent as fellow customers and maids watched your pathetic display. It didn’t bother you, though. You were too engrossed in your dessert to comprehend the humiliation taking place. You couldn’t help but squeal in utter satisfaction as the scoop of chocolate pudding you’d just eaten puddled in your mouth. With every bite after, you squealed in joy as your parfait was nothing but the mint leaf you were too scared to eat.
The spoon fell into the glass as you patted your big, round belly in satisfaction. It was most likely the fact that you were starving to death just earlier that made this meal (snack, really) so, so… DELICIOUS! You shoot your head up, impatiently searching for the nearest maid to take your order for another parfait. To your surprise though—“What happened to all the customers here earlier?” Continuing your examination of the room, the only other customer you could spot was the pervy silver head who—CAME AFTER YOU BY THE WAY, BUT SOMEHO— got his parfait before you. In the end, your search for a maid came out fruitless. Even when you called out for them, the loud humming from the ACs was your only reply. Already, you could feel your hunger waking from its nap. Something needed to be done about it—and fast! You couldn’t bear to go through that again…
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — A minute of contemplation later…
“FORGET THE MAIDS! MY GUT’S TRYING TO KILL ME!”
Your only choices were to either go to the counter and call out for them in futility or… you slowly turn your head to the pair of orbs (lol) burning their gaze onto your back. Realizing that you’ve realized, they try to nonchalantly dismiss you by facing the other way. To their and your dismay, that nonchalance bumped the untouched second parfait to its demise. There it lay, on the pastel floorboard. Its body was covered with bits and chunks of glass shards. It was such a disheartening display; you dropped to your knees and banged the floor.
“It should’ve been me! Not it!”
You bellowed with all your grief and hunger.
“What are you crying for??”
A low and confused voice commented from above you.
You lift your head up to face the voice’s source. Eyes blinded by tears, you answered,
“I really wanted to eat that parfait from you, Mr. Disco Ball…”
“Where’d you even get the idea that I would give it up to y— a disco ball? That’s not even a good ins—.”
“But now I’m sure I’m going to die from starvation!”
“What about that disgusting display you did with your parfait? (So nasty, the other customers and even the maids walked out.)”
You didn’t respond. Continuing your gaze back onto the splattered mess that was of your—disco ball’s—parfait. He crouched down to it and began picking up its glassy remains. You follow suit with a napkin from the table in hand. You watch as he continues to pick large, sharp, jagged pieces barehanded.
“Are you an idiot?”
“The hell’s that fo— OW!”
He unclenched the fist that carried the, now, bloodied shards.
“Aw, see. You never pick up broken glass barehanded.”
You slowly hold the back of his hand and pick out as many as you can find.
“There. Now, the bathroom is right over there by the kitchen door. Stick your hand under warm running water, and I’ll look around for a first aid kit.”
“Right… Thanks, Mom.”
“What? No dude…?”
The air was… awkward now. You, looking at him, conflicted. Him, flustered, his gaze progressively shifting to the left.
[Insert boring kitchen scene here.]
“I found it!”
You shout to yourself and quickly make way for the bathroom. You shove the door open and find the disco man softly cursing himself out as he sticks his hand under the running water.
“How is it? Is the water helping?”
“What’s it supposed to help with?”
“Well, for starters… How’s the pain?”
“Unbearable.”
He rolled his eyes, following that snarky remark as he tries to pick out whatever shards were still left protruding from his hand.
“HEY! Did you not learn your lesson already?! Quit picking up glass with your bare hands!”
You smack his non-injured hand away from the other and carefully pull it towards you to examine its state.
“What the—your hands are freezing!”
“Oh, right. Speaking of warm running water… It would… never get warmer.”
You stood there a bit dumbfounded but shrugged it off. It wasn’t you who was about to suffer anyways.
“It did get rid of the blood. But this next part is going to suck a bit.”
“Next part?”
A drop of sweat rolled down the side of his face as his hands began to shake uncontrollably. You pull out a comically small tweezer from the kit that sat on top of a nearby sink and slowly pull out the few remaining glass shards.
“YEOWCH!”
You try to hide your chuckles by ducking your head, spotting the katana that stuck out beside him.
“Hehe. For a samurai, you sure do yelp in pain a lot…”
“So what? Pain is pain. No matter how many horror movies you watch, a jump scare is still gonna make ya jump.”
The air got awkward again, unfortunately.
“Did I… offend you?”
“No, you just made a dumb observation.”
“Hmph! Well, apologies! Want me to just stare into your eyes in silence the whole time?!”
“Oh, sorry~ Did I offend you~?”
You pull out the final shard—clumsily this time—causing the man to clench his hand in pain as he tries to hold back a tear.
Pulling his injured hand back towards you again, you pull out a roll this time and bandage the entire arm.
“Isn’t this a bit overkill?”
“Well, the bandage is kinda hard to cut, so I thought it’d be easier to just mummify you.”
Though those dead fish eyes gave an empty stare, the smirk that was plastered on his face said otherwise. A soft chuckle escaped from your covered mouth as you threw away whatever mess you made. You approach him again and give a soft smile. He, on the other hand, cocked his head to the side. Suddenly, you shoot your hands up to the ceiling, with your hands in the shape of a heart, and point them to his stiff, bandaged arm.
“Moemoekyu—n! Hope your hand gets better ♡!”
“…”
“…”
It got especially awkward again.
The both of you exit the bathroom and leave the cafe (Did you even pay? Where the hell did the staff even go?). Just… uh… some minutes ago—the streets were busy with a summer heat that struck you dry. Now, the sky looked as delicious as a scoop of rainbow sherbet from Ba**** R*****s, and the clouds like cotton candy. You stopped in your tracks to continue taking in the awe-striking view and gaze down to the man who you uncomfortably left the unattended cafe with. That whole situation… was it your fault? I mean, hadn’t you been so beautiful, maybe he wouldn’t have tipped over that delicious parfait. No really, the least you could do was apologize.
“H-hey. I’m sorry for making you drop the parfait, causing it to fall, your injury, and… sorry.”
Though he eventually stopped. His back continued to face you and his view to the amber sun.
“Honestly, you’d do great working here.”
You look at him confounded at his sudden… compliment? He glances back to face you, the orange hue complementing his kind smile.
“Had you worked here, I’d probably come visit more too.”
The sunlight passes his head and flashes your eyes. Soon, you wake up. Your face red and hot, and you quickly pull away your covers off of you. You look down…
“ALL HE DID WAS COMPLIMENT ME!”