Chapter Text
Nirei’s usual observation skills, normally reserved for when he’s collecting important datas and information, code-cracking puzzles that he’d play with his mothers, or figuring out exactly how to time his steps so Suo and Sakura accidentally brush against him in the hallway—is now fully committed to an entirely new battlefield: the obscene, terrifyingly sparkly world of maid cafés.
His browser history has become cursed. A tangled mess of cute café etiquette, cute poses for shy maids, and—most recently—how to charm your crush while wearing thigh-high socks (Nirei is a little ashamed of himself).
Every night, he shuts his phone with the same level of dramatic flourish as if he just finished writing an undercover mission report. But instead of bombs and blueprints, it’s screenshots of frilly wrist cuffs and lipstick that supposedly suits mischievous types.
He watches videos with the intensity of a scholar, not for the service protocols or menu layouts (though he briefly considers how he'd look holding a parfait), but for the soft tilts of heads, the flutter of lashes, the calculated clumsiness that somehow makes a person seem even more endearing. He practices a few of the expressions in his mirror—cheeky smiles, innocent pouts, the classic “Hello, master!” curtsy—and then promptly crumples into a ball on his bed, screaming into his pillow.
Quietly. Because he’s not a total maniac.
Maybe.
It’s not like he’s doing this for fun. No. This is research. Scientific investigation, even. All because a girl in a ruffled black-and-white apron greets them cutely, showing off their cafe’s catalogue, in a sweet voice while calling Sakura “Master.”
And sure, Sakura blushes and stutters on his feet like it's nobody’s business, he does that all the time. Even for the most mundane reason ever. And sure, Suo smiles at everyone, always the polite one, never really showing his irritation other than grinning, smiling, and smiling again at everyone. Why would he even smile at the girl? And why would Sakura blush like he has personally come in the cafe, served specially by the worker? Nirei couldn't understand.
Nirei almost threw hands right then and there. Almost.
He reminds himself that the waitress is just doing her job. He even forces a polite smile. But deep down, Nirei’s eye twitched so hard he had to pretend he was getting a headache. That night, he spiraled into a three-hour session browsing on the Internet, about maid cafes.
He got a severe headache the day after.
—
The perfect chance to gather more data comes during a quiet lunch break. Nirei clutches a crumpled drawing—his sixth attempt at a modest but visually effective maid outfit. His heart pounds. He can almost hear the dramatic anime sound effects behind him as he walks up to them, dramatic wind in his hair (that exists only in his head). This isn’t just curiosity. This is strategy.
And also, a little tiny bit of self-presentation.
"Hey, Sakura-san, Suo-san," He starts, his voice slightly higher than usual.
He tries to smile casually, though his cheeks are already pink. “I was just wondering–” He darts his eyes somewhere else, “Are you two, perhaps, interested in–” He gulps, maid cafés? Or, um, the aesthetic?”
Sakura, halfway through devouring his bento that Nirei made, chokes. He freezes like someone just hit pause on his existence. Then the red creeps in, starting at his ears and traveling down his neck. “What?!” He shrieks.
"Maid cafes?! Nirei– ” His eyes bulged, “What in the world are you talking about?!" Sakura squawks, gesturing wildly, nearly slapping Suo with his chopstick.
Nirei winces. Too much? Did he go too far? Was it too soon for this question? But why would Sakura even react like that? His eyes dart nervously between the two, but–
Sakura’s eyes flicker toward him. Just for a second. And Nirei sees it: the same shy flutter, the same flicker of something. What does it even mean?!
Suo chuckles, playing with his food. “Eh, Sakura-kun,” He sneers, “What’s all that blushing for?” He teasingly asks.
Right?! What’s with the extensive blushing. He’s not like this even when that one time Tsubaki hugs him after their first meeting.
Sakura looks away immediately, face buried in his arms like a total drama queen. “It’s not like that!” he mumbles into the table, clearly mortified.
Suo grins, “Interesting.”
Nirei eats his food, thinking. He then glances over at Suo, how he is now not really focused on eating his food. And so Nirei hums, trying to be subtle as he picks some food and feeds it to the boy.
Luckily, Suo only leans closer to him, happily eating the food.
“What about you, Suo-san?” He asks, before reaching to Sakura and feeding him some of his carrots. Sakura opens his mouth reluctantly.
Suo tilts his head, "Maid cafes?”
Nirei nods, picking some of the food from Suo’s bento, since his food is already cleared, and then proceeds to feed Suo.
“I just thought that we never really go there.” Nirei says, waiting as Suo eats.
Sakura grumbles next to him, and Nirei chooses to ignore him for now.
“Maid cafés, you say?" He hums, raising an eyebrow. "Nirei-kun,” He leans back on his chair. “Personally, I think you’d look rather cute in one of those frilly outfits."
Sakura lets out a strangled, dolphin-like noise, trying to pretend he no longer has ears.
Nirei, on the other hand, short-circuits. His brain breaks. Suo said he’d look cute.
Cute. Sure, maybe he’s only joking, saying how he’d make a cute maid. But still! Suo said he’s cute!
Him!
He swears he hears a choir sing in the distance.
He’s doing it. It’s decided. The plan is on. He’ll show them exactly how cute he can be.
—
The next day, Nirei is in the department store, blending in like a spy among aisles of costumes. Every time a store clerk walks by, he pretends to check the seasonal sale signs. But eventually, he makes his move: a delicate lace headband with a bow (not too big, he’s not insane), a crisp apron that ties just right, and a pair of thigh-high socks he claims are just for the weather. He plans to wear it over shorts. Just enough leg to be tempting. Not scandalous. But strategic.
He pays quickly, resisting the urge to flee.
But then, as he places the clothing on his bed, he’s second guessing himself.
And as he wears them, and twirls in front of the mirror, he’s third guessing himself.
Maybe it's not a good idea, after all. And so he keeps them close under his bed. Maybe he’d wear them. Maybe not.
Or maybe he just needs a little more information.
—
A few days later, after they’ve all survived (barely) their grueling fight training with their seniors, Nirei casually invites Suo and Sakura to hang out after school.
“Where are we going?” Sakura asks, clearly suspicious.
Nirei only smiles sweetly. “Research.”
Suo squints at him, but when he sees the way Nirei skips excitedly ahead, he softens, walking a little closer to the boy.
Nirei practically drags Sakura into the café, ignoring every flustered No! and half-hearted protest. It takes Suo giving a firm push from behind—Sakura stumbling forward—before all three of them finally step inside the frilly pink chaos of the maid café.
Sakura blushes the entire time, eyes flicking nervously to the waiters in puffy skirts and lace headbands. Suo sits next to Nirei with practiced grace. (purely to keep Nirei from getting too close to the maids, of course, not that Nirei notices.)
Even so, Nirei still leans in eagerly when the maid comes to take their order, asking absurdly earnest questions, his journal in hand: Is this your first job? Do you like it? Is the skirt heavy? Do you think anyone could pull it off?
They order, Suo gets tea, Nirei a peach juice, Sakura an omelette rice with cola. Nirei adds a teacake to share, then continues interrogating the poor maid with laser focus. Eventually, Suo gently (but firmly) pushes him back into his seat and takes over, repeating the order for clarity.
“Is this your idea of research, Nirei-kun?” Suo asks, voice dry but amused, scooting a little closer.
Nirei nods, eyes sweeping the room. He’s analyzing everything, and scribbling away in his journal, how the maids gesture, how they pitch their voices, how the customers react.
He ignores Sakura’s flustered squirming and Suo’s watchful stare.
When the food arrives, the maid performs her chant—hands in the air, voice high-pitched—and draws a cat on Sakura’s omelette rice with ketchup. Sakura twitches violently, bright red. Suo fights down a laugh. Nirei watches the ritual with focus.
And when he catches Suo smiling—just a little, quietly entertained—he sips his juice and nods to himself.
This will work, he thinks.
—
That weekend, Nirei starts his sudden part-time shift at the local maid café, different from the one they visit the other day.
He’s nervous. His voice trembles. His bow is crooked. But after a few clumsy attempts, he finds his rhythm.
“Welcome, master!” he says with an almost-too-serious face, earning a wave of delighted squeals.
He nails the balance—cute, but still undeniably Nirei. His charm stat is going critical.
And then—
“Nirei-chan?”
He freezes.
Slowly, dreadfully, he turns.
It’s Kiryu.
Alone. At the maid café. For god knows why.
The boy looks completely unfazed by the sparkly pink curtains and bubblegum music. “I want to work here too,” Kiryu deadpans, eyes gleaming.
“No,” Nirei says instantly, grabbing his arm and yanking him outside like a panicked, apron-wearing gremlin.
Kiryu lets himself be dragged by the shorter. “Technically, you're refusing a customer right now,” He says with a laugh.
“You can’t be here!” Nirei hisses. “Why do you want to work here?! You’re rich!”
Kiryu just shrugs. “So? I wanna try it.”
“Why?!”
Kiryu raises an eyebrow. “Why can’t I?”
Nirei gapes at him. “No, you can’t! Not today! Especially not tomorrow!”
“Oh,” Kiryu squints at him. “And why’s that?”
Nirei fidgets on his feet, blushing, “I invited Suo and Sakura,” he mutters. “Tomorrow. This is my thing.”
“So it’s a seduction tactic.”
“It’s not!” Nirei shrieks, “It’s purely research!” Nirei snaps. “And maybe a little seduction, yes! So you see why you can’t be here!”
Kiryu only grins. “I’m working here.”
“No you’re not—” Nirei groans as Kiryu slips past him, already sweet-talking the manager. Before Nirei can stop him, the manager nods, grinning at Kiryu.
Nirei watches in horror as Kiryu receives a frilly apron.
—
The café buzzes with its usual energy, bells jingling, laughter echoing, pink everywhere.
Nirei stands near the entrance, his clipboard clutched tight. His uniform is immaculate: a crisp maid dress, white apron tied in a perfect bow, frilly lace headband perched atop neatly combed hair.
He looks gorgeous. Maybe just a little. But he’s ready.
The bell rings.
Suo steps inside, tugging Sakura behind him.
“I really don’t think I should be here.” Sakura mutters, looking at the ground.
“But we promised Nirei-kun,” Suo replies, not letting go of his sleeve.
Sakura stomps a little, “Doesn’t mean I can't complain.”
Suo chuckles, “True, but let's just see what he’s up to, right now okay?”
Before Sakura can say anything, they’re interrupted by a cheery, too familiar voice greeting them.
“Welcome, masters!”
They both look up.
And freeze.
Nirei smiles, gentle and bright.
“Suo-san! Sakura-san!” He chirps happily. “You guys came!” He says, voice soft and syrupy, cradling the café menu in his arms like it’s precious.
Suo stops walking. His mouth opens slightly.
Sakura turns scarlet. “Nirei?!”
“Please, right this way~” Nirei says, leading them to a table by the window. His steps are perfect, graceful and practiced.
Suo sits first, still stunned. Sakura follows, visibly vibrating.
“Today’s specials are love-infused curry and princess parfait,” Nirei chirps, spinning on one foot. “Would either of you like a drawing on your meal? I’m great at bunnies~” He babbles, his smile never leaving his face, as well as the red on his cheeks and ears.
Suo blinks, dazed. “Yes.”
Nirei beams. And then—
“Nirei-chaaan!”
Nirei flinches violently. No.
No.
Nirei is so sure that Kiryuu is not here when he starts his shift this morning.
Kiryu strides over, his own maid uniform immaculate—black and red with a short skirt and high socks, somehow even more dramatic than Nirei’s.
“Mind if I take your orders?” He says, clicking his pen, taking out the small notebook, as if he’s ready to take their orders.
Sakura squeaks, his eyes darting at Kiryu’s outfit.
Kiryu grins. “I’m freelancing,” he tells Nirei, ignoring the horrified expression on his face.
“You’re not even assigned to this table!” Nirei hisses, blocking him with the menu.
“I go where the drama is,” Kiryu replies smoothly.
Suo raises an eyebrow. “Drama?”
“Just an internal rivalry,” Kiryu says, winking. “Anyway, what can I get you two? I recommend the Lover’s Tea Set. Comes with hand-feeding.”
“You are not hand-feeding anyone!” Nirei snaps, shoving him aside. “Also, even if there is a menu needing to feed the customers, I’m gonna be the one feeding them!”
Sakura is practically steaming. Suo gapes, the tip of his ears redden as Nirei stomps before them, fury in his eyes. Kiryu smirks, clicking his pen again, just to tease him.
“I’ll take the parfait,” Suo says finally.
Nirei composes himself instantly. “Excellent choice, Master~ I’ll go prepare it right away–” He smiles sweetly, “With love.” He adds.
He shoots Kiryu a death glare. Kiryu just grins wider, plopping a little maid bonnet on his head.
Nirei stomps toward the kitchen, skirt bouncing with every furious step.
Tomorrow, he might die of embarrassment.
But today—he will win their hearts.
Even if it means wrestling Kiryu into the break room.
—
Nirei lets out a deep breath as he walks over to where Sakura and Suo are seated, the tall parfait trembling in his hand. His fingers twitch slightly around the chilled glass, but he keeps walking, step by careful step. He doesn’t come empty-handed—on the tray with him are a cup of hot tea and a tall iced coffee.
“For you, Suo-san, Sakura-san.” He says, placing the drinks gently in front of them. “On the house.”
He smiles a little too big, a little too proud, and the second the drinks touch the table, he suddenly steps back and clears his throat. And then—he starts moving.
It’s a small dance. A weird one. There’s a bounce in his step, a twist of his wrist, a clap, and then a twirl that ends in a little bow. It’s clearly made up. Clearly just for them. And he blushes as he does it, neck and ears blooming red. But he does it anyway, all the way through, even though his hands tremble and he’s sure the nearby customers are staring.
He catches Suo watching him with amused eyes and a crooked smile that tugs at the corner of his lips, and he catches Sakura, who looks like he might actually pass out from secondhand embarrassment, face flushed and frozen mid-sip.
And still, Nirei doesn’t back down.
He sets the parfait between them, clearing his throat. “So, uh. Do you want me to feed you?” he says, only half-joking.
Suo raises an eyebrow, then pats the seat beside him. “Sit down.”
Nirei’s grin returns, full force this time. He slides into the booth beside Suo without hesitation, practically beaming, and picks up the long silver spoon again. He scoops a bit of whipped cream and fruit, holding it up with a bright, “Say ah~,” that makes Sakura visibly recoil.
“I can eat by myself,” Sakura mutters, eyes darting away, voice a little too high to sound convincing.
But he doesn’t move away. And he opens his mouth anyway when Nirei gently nudges the spoon closer, still pink in the cheeks.
They talk like that—spoonful by spoonful. Nirei feeding them in turns, sometimes forgetting whose bite it is, sometimes laughing nervously when Suo just takes the spoon from his hand and feeds Nirei instead.
Sakura asks, voice stuttering, “When did you even start working here?”
Nirei grins, “Yesterday. But today is my first full shift. They said I need to practice customer interaction.”
Suo just hums, looking very much like he thinks Nirei is enjoying this part way too much.
And then—right as Nirei readies the last scoop, the air shifts. A presence looms.
The café owner appears beside their booth, arms crossed, brows raised. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to. Her eyes say enough. She stares down at Nirei, who is very much not working, very much hanging out, very much hand-feeding the customers.
Nirei freezes mid-motion.
He glances up at her, spoon still hovering awkwardly in the air, and lets out a weak chuckle. “Customer engagement?” he offers, smiling through the panic.
She lifts an eyebrow higher.
Without another word, Nirei leaps to his feet. “Right! I’ll get the door. Customers!”
He hurries off, tray nearly slipping from his hands, apron swaying as he stumbles back to the entrance like a deer running from headlights.
Suo lets out a soft laugh under his breath, light and low, like he can’t help himself. Beside him, Sakura leans back into the booth, trying very hard to act like nothing just happened. His fingers wrap neatly around his coffee, and he sips slowly, eyes half-lidded, but there’s a pink flush still clinging stubbornly to his cheeks.
He doesn’t look at Suo when he speaks. But his gaze flickers—just once—toward the entrance, where Nirei had stood moments ago.
“Thoughts?” Suo asks, lifting his own tea to his lips, casual. Too casual.
Sakura exhales through his nose, blush beginning to fade. He shrugs a little, swirling his drink. “It’s weird.”
Suo hums, tilting his head. “Really?”
Sakura nods, slowly, one hand reaching to toy with the straw in his coffee. It spins lazily under his fingers, round and round, and Suo watches the motion for a beat before raising an eyebrow.
“Only weird?” he repeats, this time leaning just slightly toward him.
And Sakura doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he balls up his free hand and delivers a quick, sharp fist to Suo’s head. A dull thud. It’s not hard enough to hurt, but definitely enough to make a point.
Suo snorts, rubbing the spot, laughing like he’s just been gifted the highlight of his week.
“Touchy,” he murmurs, grinning.
But then his gaze drifts. Past Sakura. Past their half-empty cups and clean parfait glass. His eyes land on Nirei, now at the far end of the café, attending to a new table.
Teenagers—five of them, loud and all energy, slouching in their seats with wide grins and eyes that don’t leave Nirei once. One of them says something that makes the others laugh, and Nirei, still smiling, tilts his head bashfully, a hand behind his back. His usual cheer is still there, but there’s something different. He looks much more playful serving those strangers then when he' with Suo and Sakura.
Suo’s smile fades. His jaw ticks.
“Hmm,” he mutters, voice almost flat. “Maybe we shouldn’t indulge him in this kind of hobby.”
He doesn’t look at Sakura when he says it. His tea sits forgotten between his hands, his gaze locked across the café, jaw tight and unreadable.
Sakura follows his line of sight, curious—and then freezes when he sees it too.
Nirei is laughing, cornered in polite conversation, but it’s the boy beside him—tall, cocky, wearing his cap backward—who rests his hand just a little too low, fingers brushing the edge of Nirei’s waist.
The smile on Sakura’s face stiffens. His fingers tighten around his cup, and he slurps loudly, the straw pulling up ice and air.
Suo doesn’t blink. “Let’s ask Kiryuu to do something. Get him or even both of them fired today.”
His voice is completely void of emotion, like he’s discussing the weather. He doesn’t even blink when he says it.
Sakura opens his mouth to argue—wants to argue, wants to say Nirei can do whatever weird performance café things he wants, that they should support him, cheer him on even—but then the boy’s hand lingers again, clearly taking his time.
Sakura slurps louder.
“Maybe,” he says slowly, “Maybe we should just destroy this café.”
His tone is calm, but the glare he sends across the room could peel wallpaper. His eyes are locked dead on the group, unwavering. On the boys. On Nirei, who remains blissfully unaware.
Neither of them speak after that. They just watch. And wait.
Even when Kiryuu, now already in his regular clothes, sits with them, they still wait. And wait.
They wait until Nirei finishes his shift, and walk him home together.
---
And when Nirei goes to sleep that night, he does so with a smile still lingering on his face—soft, dreamy, and full of quiet joy. His heart feels warm and full, sated not by food or rest, but by the gentle, genuine praise he’d received from both Suo and even Sakura.
They had actually complimented him—on his looks, on his charm, on the way he carried himself in that silly little maid outfit. It may have been just a side gig, something he signed up for on a whim or maybe out of some secret hope, but it had worked. They saw him.
They actually, really saw him.
He later finds out, somewhat abruptly, that he wouldn’t be able to return to work there again. No reason was given, no explanation offered. And for a moment, he thinks of being upset, maybe even demanding an answer. But then he decides against it. Because, in his heart, he already got what he came for. That was enough.
He likes to think of it as yet another small victory—just one of many in his slow, quiet mission of love. One more step forward in the many, many ways he's trying to win their hearts.
And tonight, as sleep takes him, he dreams not of work or school, but of the two boys he adores finally beginning to look his way—and maybe, just maybe, starting to see him as something a little more.
He sleeps, completely ignoring the fact that he still has his maid outfit neatly folded in deep in his closet.