Chapter 9 — The Maid Looks Good in Casual Clothes Too
After changing out of the miniskirt maid outfit, Yuki Ōhira returned to the entrance.
Her casual clothes were simple and boyish: a loose white T-shirt paired with denim jeans.
The change from the maid uniform was dramatic, yet this look suited her just as well.
When she wore them, even an ordinary T-shirt and pair of jeans somehow looked like designer brands. That was probably thanks to her natural beauty and the figure she’d clearly worked hard to maintain.
I was dressed similarly myself—a patterned shirt and jeans—but there was no way I could pull it off the way she did.
“What is it?” she asked. “Even if you stare that hard, you won’t be able to see my underwear.”
Apparently my earlier comment had left her on guard.
Not that I was desperate to look. I already knew an emerald-green treasure was hidden beneath those jeans.
“No, no. I was just thinking your casual clothes look good on you too.”
I wasn’t trying to flatter her. It was an honest observation.
Yet instead of looking pleased, she turned her face away.
“Complimenting me won’t get you anything.”
“It’ll get me dinner, won’t it?”
“…You really have an answer for everything.”
A hint of irritation crossed her face before she said, “Come on, let’s go,” and started down the long fifth-floor hallway toward the elevators near Room 501.
“Hey, wait up.”
I followed after her.
Not that she’d actually waited. She was simply standing by the elevator, and I caught up easily.
“So where are we buying groceries?”
The down button had already been pressed, glowing in a color somewhere between yellow and orange.
Watching the floor indicator above the doors, Yuki replied:
“At a supermarket, obviously.”
“Right. Of course.”
What a stupid question.
Suppressing a laugh at myself, I stepped into the elevator when it arrived.
Yuki entered first and held the door-open button for me. I slipped inside and leaned against the back wall.
“But is this really okay?”
“What’s okay?”
She pressed the button for the first floor and answered my vague question with one of her own.
Fair enough.
I clarified.
“I mean, you’re the student council president. If people saw you shopping with a guy like me, who knows what kind of rumors would start at school.”
Yuki Ōhira was popular.
And when someone was that popular, admiration wasn’t the only thing involved. There were bound to be plenty of people who liked her romantically too.
“Wouldn’t it be a problem if your boyfriend found out?”
I’d never heard any rumors about her dating anyone. From what I’d seen, she didn’t seem to have a boyfriend at school.
Still, maybe she did.
The elevator jolted as it began descending, and she answered.
“So what if someone sees me at a supermarket with a classmate? If we were together in maid outfits like earlier, people might think something suspicious was going on. But dressed like this? Nobody would think twice.”
“You’re the famous Fairy Queen Titania, after all. You’ve got a lot of fans. Just being seen with a guy might be enough to start rumors.”
“Could you please stop calling me by that embarrassing nickname?”
“You don’t like it? I think it suits you. It matches your beautiful silver hair.”
I wasn’t teasing her.
I genuinely meant it.
From where I stood, I could only see her back, not her expression. But I noticed her grip tighten around a handful of her long silver hair.
“I don’t like this hair. And I don’t like that nickname. So please don’t ever call me that again.”
Her voice was faint.
Angry.
Sad.
Both at once.
The moment I heard it, I realized this wasn’t a minor annoyance for her. It was something that genuinely hurt.
“Got it. I won’t say it again.”
I wasn’t interested in deliberately upsetting people, so I accepted her request without argument.
The elevator reached the first floor.
She held the door-open button again, clearly indicating that I should exit first.
I stepped out.
“About what we were discussing earlier…”
Yuki followed me into the tiny lobby.
Calling it a lobby felt generous. It was really just a space containing a staircase, an elevator, and a row of mailboxes.
“If some curious person asks, I’ll just say we happened to run into each other at the supermarket. As long as nobody finds out otherwise, that version becomes the truth. I don’t see any reason to be stupidly honest about it.”
“So you’re good at keeping things hidden? Like your maid café job.”
“What? Were you trying to say, ‘But I found out,’ like some clever comeback?”
“I wasn’t thinking that at all.”
Without waiting for my response, she snorted and pushed through the apartment building’s automatic lock door.
Still wearing an irritated expression, she added:
“And another thing. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“That’s surprising. You’re popular enough that I’d have assumed you had at least one or two.”
“I’m busy. I don’t need a boyfriend.”
Then, after a brief pause, she continued.
“And if I did have one, I certainly wouldn’t volunteer to become your personal maid just to keep a secret.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“You should’ve figured that out yourself.”
The muttered jab landed cleanly.
As we stepped outside, we were greeted by the chorus of cicadas.
Their song had been growing weaker with each passing day, a sign that summer was slowly fading.
Even so, listening to them was enough to make sweat bead across my skin.
