Work Text:
Birds that only come out in the deep of the night croon outside. The Kai family residence is silent. Uncomfortably so, if you ask Rinka.
She pads across the house’s halls, barely looking around. It’s her childhood home, and despite her short-lived runaway era, nothing changed between her impulsive leaving and vowing to never return, and her now most definitely being back. She can still navigate every room with her eyes closed.
Something about nothing changing despite her absence stings her insides. It’s not worth dwelling on. Apparently her father took her absence hard. It’s just hard to see that when the normal ostentatious appearance of everything is the loudest thing talking back to you.
While walking, she swings a little chibi keychain of her brother Rintarou around her finger; there is a benefit to all the crazy merch her brother’s idol group F/ACE puts out, and it’s that she can buy all sorts of bits and bobbles with his face on it.
When it was just her as her brother’s biggest fan, there was no such merchandise. Lots of people love him now, and she gets to benefit from it.
She misses her brother, but she’d never in a million years make or design such cheesy items, idol or not. She’ll buy them though. That’s different. That takes no effort. Swipe a card, scan a QR code, and she can get anything she wants.
And nobody thinks twice about it because everyone else is also doing it! She’s definitely come around to the benefits of her brother being an idol beloved by all.
All the fans who’ve never met him, much less know him, being distant stars in his solar system, naturally chase after any and all forms of their oshi that they can get their hands on. Rinka can kinda understand how that desperation for closeness can drive creations like the keychain she’s toting around.
Our parents already created the real thing, so no thanks to more effort on my part.
She’s content simply driving the market in her brother’s favor.
She reaches her family’s personal theater, turns on one of the lamps stationed on the wall, and plops down on one of the many empty seats. After a beat, she props her feet on the seat in front of her.
It’s not like there’s anyone around to complain about it. Nothing is playing on the big screen, and the low light casts dark shadows across all four walls, casting even darker yet between each row of seats.
She holds the chibi keychain ornament of her brother up to her eyes, and then rests it down on her lap.
Rintarou is currently out with F/ACE doing whatever idols do. Touring, practicing, recording, meet and greets, it all takes up his time, and he continues to be away from home more than he was before this dream of his wormed its way into his heart.
She’s returned home from her little ‘stint’, and their father is back in good health, and in turn their mother in higher spirits.
But in a way, that means that Rinka can now face that even when at home, her family, in capable, energetic spirits, don’t spend all their time here at home.
Home where she can find them.
She imposed upon herself that loneliness when she ran away, but coming back makes it obvious that even at home, things are still quiet.
Rinka frowns, and suppresses some tears. She angrily wipes at her face, and pinches the bridge of her nose.
When she felt like this when rooming at that hotel, it ended up with her desperately crawling to the first people who cared to look at her. Ugh, just thinking about those guys gives me a stomachache.
Unbidden, the thought of her schoolmate comes to mind. Kinoshita Utage.
Rinka swings her legs off the seat in front of her, and curls her knees under her arms, her chibi older brother held loosely in her palm. She gazes off into a random dark corner, her eyes adjusting to the low light.
She’s loud, and talks forever, and butts her nose into my business, Rinka lists off in her head.
That girl is all of those things for sure, and it sounds like a list of negatives when said together, but those traits are actually a good thing. Rinka doesn’t want to admit it to herself too strongly, but if Utage wasn’t so thick skinned and tenacious, then Rinka would have never been the one to rely on her first.
She ran away instead of relying on her parents to comfort her when Rintarou parted ways from the family business. It’s not like it was his job to be at her beck and call, but still, his sudden out of character absence hurt.
(And even if it’s not his job to be at her beck and call, it should still be a part time job at least! She’s his little sister after all! It came with being born!)
In contrast with her family, Utage was surprisingly reliable, and Rinka is able to admit that if it weren’t for her being nosy and determined, she never would have been able to reconnect with her brother as Rintarou the idol, and would have never been able to become Rinka the little sister idol fan.
“I am her friend.”
She did say that back when that guy― she doesn’t remember his name― tried to rope her into hanging out when she very obviously did not want to.
She was lonely, but there came a point when being uncomfortable overpowered loneliness. And she noticed it, noticed her, and glued herself to Rinka throughout that whole awkward ordeal, until F/ACE was able to crash that stressful karaoke party.
Rinka’s chest feels fuzzy, and her face a little warm. Utage had held so tightly onto her, pulling her away from that guy, hadn’t she?
Rinka mindlessly trails her fingers across her upper arms, over the sleeves of her frilly sleepwear. She could almost recreate the feeling of Utage pulling Rinka protectively into her.
Her gaze drifts, her eyes closing, and with her mind filled with thoughts of her schoolmate, forgets the feeling of empty loneliness that drove her to wandering the halls of her house.
Her brain combs through all the visual memory she has of that oddball girl.
She’s shorter than Rinka, though most girls are. She’s slender, but her school uniform falls cutely on her shoulders and hips. She wears her hair down all the time, or at least the times that Rinka’s seen her. It falls in an elegant, girly wave, barely brushing her shoulders.
Her bangs are cute and wispy too, allowing for only quick glimpses of her eyebrows, while being long enough at the sides to be cutely curled around her round ears.
If Rinka recalls correctly, they didn’t seem to be pierced. She’d like to get a closer look, sometime.
As if reminded by the environment of the in-house theater she’s in, Rinka suddenly remembers when she came back home for the first time since running away, and how when she was most certainly not breaking and entering through the window of her own home, immediately was ran afoul by Utage and her house cleaning coworker, both wearing maid outfits.
Come to think of it, her hair was in a low bun then, wasn’t it?
Rinka stares at the roof of the theater room. Frills and aprons fill her mind. Sweet smiles, elegantly holding onto her skirt so it’s not in the way of her walking, delicately holding a duster and brushing it against this thing and that…
An unfamiliar urgency wells up within her, but it doesn’t feel bad.
I wanna see her like that again. A proper look.
☆
Afternoon birdsong echoes through the trees, filling the air with a sort of classical whimsy befitting of such a manor as the Kai family residence.
Utage stares up at the familiar, grandiose building in front of her.
“Right this way, madam.” The Kai family butler, their personal Jeeves, stands beside her, having welcomed her in from the front gate, and continues to further welcome her in by leading her to the front door.
But before she could thank him and politely pardon her own intrusion, and before he could even open the door himself, it violently bursts open with a loud bang. Such a strong force against what must be an expensive door for an expensive house, Utage’s commoner brain whirls in confusion at the lack of respect.
“Finally,” someone speaks from across the door’s threshold. Utage’s eyes widen, and it’s only her professionalism that keeps her from spitting out something ridiculous.
“Y-you were the one to request a―”
“Come in, I’ll take it from here Jiya,” Rinka cuts her off, and grabs Utage by the wrist and pulls her inside. From behind them, Jiya’s “Certainly, young mistress,” can be vaguely heard.
“Uwah!” Utage can’t help but cry as she’s suddenly dragged at a rapid pace through the Kai residence. It’s still vaguely familiar in her mind from her last job here, but the sight of a richer-than-rich person’s abode still gives her a sense of out-of-place wonder for a commoner like herself who works for her wages.
It’s like being at Disneyland, if instead of rides, you were the housekeeper.
“Rinka, are you the one who requested my house cleaning services?” Utage asks while forcibly making her feet keep up with Rinka’s long strides.
Rinka doesn’t reply at first, leaving Utage helplessly waiting, but after crossing 5 meters with her speedwalking, seems to finally think of something to say.
“My room’s a mess. The rest of the house isn’t. So of course I was the one who hired you.” Her tone is blunt, but to Utage also seems a bit brittle.
Is she embarrassed?
“I see,” she simply accepts.
Sometimes clients are self conscious when their hired housekeepers come by, especially if it's their first time, and Utage supposes even rich people aren’t impervious to that.
“Well, I think I can follow you without you dragging me along, Rinka…” Her wrist is starting to hurt a bit, as were her leg muscles, and she needs both if she’s going to be cleaning.
But something about this, about being impulsively and mysteriously dragged away by a beautiful, taller person while working at the Kai residence gives Utage severe deja vu.
The two girls seem to reach Rinka’s destination, a door to what must be her room, sequestered away in the far reaches of the house. Out of nowhere, the taller girl pulls out a large bag, like the ones from shopping malls to store clothing purchases.
Where she was stashing that, Utage wouldn’t be able to tell you, even if you held her at knifepoint.
“Uniform time, get dressed.” Rinka orders. She drops the bag into Utage’s hands.
Ah, I think I remember why this is familiar, Utage feels a sweatdrop form on her face.
Maid outfits are powerful tools, both for the worker wearing them and for the employer who wants to enforce a certain atmosphere, and it seems like Rinka follows her mother’s preferences for her cleaners to be properly dressed.
At the very least, she hopes Rinka won’t mysteriously lock her in a room for no discernable reason like Tamon-kun did last time.
“Understood,” at least she’s done this whole dog and pony show before. “Where should I get dressed―” before Utage finishes her sentence, Rinka steps forward.
What is she―
Utage is taken by the shoulders, Rinka’s long blonde hair falling over her like a sweet smelling curtain, and her face comes in closer to hers.
Rinka then twirls Utage around. The door they were standing in front of at some point had been opened, and Rinka pushes her inside, and from outside closes the door with a turn and click.
Utage blinks, and looks at the inner side of the door, the one she’s been closed in on.
She’s been locked in a room for no discernable reason. Again.
From the other side, the one Utage was just standing on one singular second ago, Rinka speaks.
“Change in there. I’ll come by in a few minutes. Don’t start cleaning without me.”
Footsteps fade away as Rinka walks off to who knows where.
Discernable reason… found?
“Right.” Utage mutters to no one as she hefts the big bag of what must be her uniform for the day more securely in her arms.
Welp. Time to start this job, I guess?
And with that, she turns around, and is flashbanged with the contents of the room around her.
“M- it’s a giant mess!!!” And clearly her personal room! It’s large, and honestly looks really similar to the hotel suite she and Sensei barged in on when they were tailing her like spies, except if it was a mess, littered with clothes, books, and merchandise, and who knows what else all over the place.
It’s like an earthquake hit and knocked everything out of place! Even rich people make messes like commoners, Utage is somehow shocked by this, even though she really shouldn’t be.
It’s actually a bit endearing, at least when it’s a high school girl.
She giggles a bit to herself, and gently takes off the shoes she hadn’t been able to swap out for slippers due to Rinka’s spiriting her off so quickly. Then again, this place being a Western style house, she wore her shoes inside last time she was here, so Utage guesses that was never expected of her in the first place.
Regardless, she places her shoes next to the door so as to be out of the way.
Utage feels the flooring beneath her now socked feet. It’ll take some time before she can even get to the floor to mop it. No time like the present to start, she supposes.
She opens the paper bag, and removes what must be the uniform. It must be. The maid uniform which she wore last time, at the behest of Mrs. Kai’s traditional high class standards. That one.
Utage’s eyes bulge out of her head and she feels the urge to cough blood.
She stares at the confusing outfit. It’s very much not the one she wore last time, it’s―
Rather than following that thought, she immediately begins the process of manually rewriting the programming of her brain so that it can get back to functioning properly. Because following the natural line of questioning this outfit invites would probably not be wise while on the job.
Compartmentalize, girl, compartmentalize!
Gotta get that money, Utage reminds herself. That is her only imperative here. It’s all for her dear Tamon-kun!
Money money money, it’s arguably the most important thing in this world, and Utage won’t let this small, nay, nonexistent shock stop her from getting the currency she needs to financially support her oshi!
☆
Rinka breathes on the wood of her personal room’s door, and then realizing that she’s being a bit of a freak, steps backwards, turns around, and walks away.
Has it been too long? She’s given her enough time to change right? Or did she see it and refuse? Or worse, did she put it on without thinking it strange at all?
Rinka’s face burns and she paces back and forth down the hall.
“Rrrrgh!” She growls. She has to do something to get this energy out of her system! The anticipation is killing her!
Somewhere between feeling the burn of her calves from all the pacing, and her trying to take deep breaths to calm her frantic energy, a feeling of clear-headed guilt blooms in Rinka’s mind.
Should she not have made Utage come all the way to her house and clean in a specialized uniform? Was that a weird thing to do?
She keeps finding herself making impulsively bad choices when feeling lonely.
She stares at the ground, then huffs, tosses her hair, and marches right up to her own door with purposefully heavy footsteps.
Too late to back out now. Might as well see the consequences of her actions.
Her knuckles rap against the wood grain. Knock knock.
“You decent?” Her voice is calm and cool, it only cracking a little bit near the end. From the other side, Rinka thinks she hears a “Y-yes, I think so.” She thinks so?
Without pardoning her own intrusion, it’s her own room after all, Rinka turns the doorknob, and strides inside.
“This is a bit different from the one your mom made me wear last time. Is it because you and her have different tastes?”
Blood spurts from Rinka’s nose and she violently steps backwards out of the room, and immediately closes the door again. She keeps the doorknob in a death grip in one hand, and shoots the other up to stop the waterfall of blood that’s gushing out of her nostrils.
Her muscles vibrate as she holds herself still so as to not do anything rash. “Rinka!” The muffled voice of Utage floats through the barrier. It sounds like she’s huddled up right on the other side of the door. Even with it between them, Rinka can tell the sound comes from below, from someone shorter than her.
Rinka gently bangs her head on the door a couple times, and if Utage can hear that― Rinka refuses to think about that for longer than 0.01 seconds. Her own embarrassment is already at levels sky high.
She opens the door back up, and tosses her long locks back again like a reflex, and coolly looks down at her maid for the day.
“My bad. I get nosebleeds when stressed, and this room being a mess stresses me out, that’s all.” The sound of bald-faced lies spill out her mouth.
Utage looks up at Rinka, and takes a good proper gander at her. She’s not in her school uniform any longer, the school day having ended hours ago, and is in fashionably alternative clothing, not unlike the other times she’s seen her outside of school. Her toned stomach is exposed thanks to her black crop top. It’s sleeveless, and one of her long, bare arms is lifted, allowing her to hold her nose, it and her cheeks both colored slightly red. Her eyelashes are made even longer with the way she keeps her calm gaze on the wall next to Utage.
She looks like she just got back from beating up someone for looking at her girl the wrong way!
Or boy, she mentally corrects. The delinquent trope is just easier to envision when it’s a cute girl being protected, so Utage’s mind jumped to that phrasing.
“Please, sit down! Er, let me just,” Utage bounces towards what looks like a chair, and strongarms all the mess on it to the side (read: the floor), and then takes Rinka’s arm to guide her to sit.
“There!” Utage’s smiling face shines down on Rinka, hands cutely on her hips. Being as tall as she is, her face comes up to Utage’s chest even while sitting.
That chest, which is currently adorned in a white apron overflowing with frills, hugging Utage like a second skin, and with black ribbons dotting the center of it in a vertical line and lining the bottom hem horizontally all around.
The apron was barely shorter than the black dress underneath it. Even the petticoat underneath that poked through with how short it was.
Her shoes, a pair of low black heels, were adorned with bows, and even her white socks, which came up to right below her knees, had bows decorating them.
Even her hair too was adorned with bows, the black and white headpiece being absolutely littered with them. Utage’s brown hair is pulled into pigtails, with some strands lopsidedly poking out. A given, since she likely put them up without a mirror.
Bows, bows, and more bows.
The maid dress, simply put, was more lolita fashion than functional uniform. But even as a lolita outfit, it’s way too short! Rinka knew it was short when she bought it, but her own height must have skewed her estimations.
This is much too erotic!
Another spurt of blood gushes out of her nose, despite her fingers pinching it closed. Drops fall down and stain her pants. You’d think she was a murder victim with all the bloodstains forming.
Utage jolts and hovers her hands around Rinka. “Tissue, tissue, ah, here!” She had been glancing around the room while waiting for Rinka to arrive, since Rinka said to wait on her before starting, and noticed earlier a box of tissues sitting on what is most likely a desk.
That idle observation is thankfully coming in clutch. Utage takes a couple from its container, touches the back of Rinka’s head until she’s leaning forward, and crouches in front of her, gently blotting her nose on her behalf.
Rinka’s face is both pale and red. Her eyes are blown wide open, eyelashes trembling, looking at Utage like a deer in the headlights.
“There we are. Are you okay?” Utage looks at her worryingly while extending her arm, her lip jutting out in an unintentionally cute, but concerned pout.
Rinka’s whole face trembles even more, tremors coursing through her legs to the point where even Utage can feel them under her hand. She forces herself to stay still, but it’s all in vain. It comes to a head, and before Utage can repeat herself, Rinka’s sanity explodes, and her eyes roll backwards.
She slumps forward and falls face first into Utage’s shoulder.
“Rinka!?”
Rinka succumbs to the unintentional sexiness of having a cute personal maid fret over your wellbeing.
Too strong… A deadly flashbang…
She’s the pink haired guy’s regular housekeeper, right? That’s how she became acquainted with her brother, she faintly recalls, vision fading. He must go crazy seeing even 10% of the sight she managed to see just now, just before accepting death.
Being so close to her, the closest she’s been to Utage all day, if only she was conscious for it. She could have sated her curiosity and checked for herself if her ears were pierced or not.
“Passing out with a nosebleed― Rinka, please take care of your health more,” Utage whispers, slightly freaked out.
Now she really has to clean, if only to have a place to put the dead weight currently leaving bloodstains on her maid outfit.
Wait, if her nose is still bleeding, she shouldn’t lay her down somewhere. Clearing off a wall to lean her against should be the second best thing.
Utage admits though, when she first saw it, she was surprised. But after the feeling wore off, she thought it was natural that the daughter has a different fashion sense than the mother.
She remembers Mrs. Kai wore an extravagant kimono with a pair of geta, so it’s natural that for her maids she prefers a classic French maid look with long skirts and modest aprons.
Tradition is tradition, no matter the cultural background. And breaking tradition is breaking tradition, no matter the cultural background.
Stands to reason the more modern and somewhat delinquent teen daughter of the house would prefer a more stylish and cutesy variation that breaks away from what she wore during her last job here. But still, wanting to be dressed by their own standards instead of letting them wear their normal work attire, the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree in the Kai household, it seems.
☆
Distantly, a grunt and murmur sounds from somewhere, and it takes Rinka waking up to realize it’s from her own throat.
“Mmm,” she grabs her head and holds it. It’s pounding. What, what happened? Her vision is suddenly taken over by the sight of a glass, filled three fourths of the way with water. Rinka looks up.
“I thought you might be thirsty.”
Rinka stares at her. “An angel…” she wheezes out from a dry throat.
That’s what this is, right? She can’t remember why she died, but this must be heaven to have a girl perfectly her type in front of her tending to her.
“No, this is Utage.” She responds flatly, contrasting strongly with her pleasant customer service smile. “Your maid for the day.” Utage forces Rinka’s hands to hold the glass of water.
“Maid for the―” Steam practically rushes out of her ears, and she quickly gulps down every drop of the cool water. The rhythmic sensation of drinking resets her bodily functions, and she lets out a satisfied gasp after finishing it off.
Forget drinking water, she needs to be doused in it.
“Right, uh,” Rinka starts. “I passed out?” That’s all she can lamely come up with to say.
Utage nods rapidly. “You did, it really shocked me! But I guess that’s why you called for a housekeeper. Letting your personal room stress your mind really must have been taking its toll. I never noticed at school, you seemed as normal as ever.”
We’re not even in the same class, so of course I’m the same as ever. The less I see your cute face, the less blood I lose.
“Aha, yeah. It’s been a hassle alright. Speaking off,” Rinka looks around from where she’s sitting on the ground against the wall.
“Holy shit?” Her room is clean! How long has she been out for? Her bed is made, her desk is organized, and even some of her brother’s merch is displayed in a cute manner!
Her shelves of books and of more merch are spick and span, and seemingly organized by category??
Her floor is visible???
Rinka is slackjaw. She really did everything in her power to make her room a wreck before Utage got here. It’s even cleaner than it was before.
And is that…? Rinka sniffs the air.
“Oh that? I found an oil diffuser and let it scent the air with a rosemary and peppermint essential oil. But don’t worry, I didn’t let it go forever, so you shouldn’t need to use an air purifier to clear the air. Simply airing your room out should be enough, if it’s not to your liking.” Utage rattles off more details of how and what she’s cleaned while Rinka’s been dead to the world. She occasionally turns her back to Rinka, showing off the gigantic bow at the small of her back.
“I will admit though,” Utage shyly turns and meets Rinka’s gaze. She pinches the short skirt between her thumb and index finger and pulls it out on display, “It was a bit hard to do everything in such a short dress.” Her face is blushing, her lips parted. She gives Rinka a wide, wobbly smile, and cocks her hip to one side. Her skin is slightly shiny with a thin layer of sweat.
“I’m almost glad you were unconscious the whole time, I’m sure I would have flashed you by accident at some point.”
Utage laughs with good humor at the situation.
Rinka stumbles to stand, and it’s not until Utage comes close, the scent of rosemary and peppermint clinging to her clothes, and takes the empty glass out of her hand that she realizes that she had still been holding it.
“Thank you for using our house cleaning services!”
“Ah…” Rinka feels herself withering away. “Of course,” she replies as she disintegrates into dust, floating in the rosemary and peppermint scented wind gently flowing throughout her room.
Later on, after all is said and done, Utage throws a question her way.
“Am I to keep the uniform, or am I to put it back in the bag and give it to you?” The thought of Utage wearing the maid outfit she bought for her of her own volition… You can keep it! She almost spat that out. If it weren’t for the thought of her wearing it for someone other than her, she would have said that.
“Of course I’ll keep it. It’s your uniform for when I hire your services.” Wait, that came out wrong. “Your house cleaning services, I mean.” Utage nods and accepts her words without further comment.
With her having left, and her childhood home calm and quiet once more, sitting in her now spotless and fragrant room, she holds the outfit in her lap and stares at it.
At the shoulder, there are small drops of blood staining one of the broad bands strapping the white apron to the dress. It was from when she collapsed onto her, and couldn’t dam the flood in time.
Eyes moving away from that crime scene, Rinka trails her hands across the apron, her fingers tapping and catching every bow decorating the front.
Underneath her fingertips, she swears she can almost feel Utage’s body heat still radiating off it.
Drip drip.
“Ah.”
Two drops of blood fall down, this time directly onto the bottom of the apron.
“Rrrrgh,” Rinka gives up, and shoves her face, bloody nose first, into the dress. She inhales the pleasant scent still wafting off it, and screams for as long as her lungs let her.
She’s got to make sure she looks sane next time she sees Utage at school. And handwash this outfit, so that she can wear it next time without knowing Rinka shoved her bloody face into it and huffed it like a crazy person.
At her own thoughts, she screams again and falls backwards on her bed. She stares dead eyed at the ceiling.
She keeps staring at it, and stares at it until she gets her wits about her.
She is left staring at her ceiling for a good long while. So long, that the birds that croon only in the deep of the night start their routine birdsong once more.