Service

"Hey."

"Ah… yeah…."

"You look pretty wiped out."

"I was at school until ten last night."

"You're a senior and you're still prepping a booth?"

"Only the third-year classes that want to. Ours figured this is the last one anyway, so we might as well enjoy it."

"That so? You worked hard."

Festival prep always ran late. Especially if you were running a booth that needed a lot of props — a haunted house, say — kids would stay deep into the night. I'd figured kids these days were too jaded to care about any of that, but seeing her like this made the world feel a little more livable.

"Here."

"Oh — thanks. I love these."

"You could've told me that sooner…."

Even exhausted, she hadn't forgotten to bring me bread. I took it gratefully. Today's was pizza bread — my favorite.

"Ah… right. I forgot the drink… sorry."

"It's fine. You were tired. I'll take the thought."

"No… ah, want some of this at least?"

"Hm?"

Ye-rim pulled a tumbler from her bag. The bright, tart smell of mango juice cut straight through the sleep still clinging to me.

"It was for me, but…."

"Nah. It's yours. I can't just drink it."

"…I don't mind."

"Hm?"

"I said I don't mind. You can drink it."

"……Alright. Just a sip, then."

"Don't put your mouth on it. That's gross."

"Obviously…."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I tipped it carefully so my lips never touched the rim. One cool, sweet swallow slid down my throat.

"Thanks."

"You like mango juice?"

"Hm? Yeah. I like mango."

"You could've said so earlier…."

"You never asked…."

For the record, when I go to a café I skip the coffee and order iced tea or a smoothie. Practically my favorite drink.

"……."

As we drove, a light weight settled against my shoulder. Ye-rim had gone quiet for a different reason than yesterday. She was out cold — completely under. A faint, pleasant shampoo scent tickled the tip of my nose.

"…Ye-rim. We're here."

"Nngh…?"

"School."

"Ah… okay…."

She slapped both cheeks to wake herself up, then pulled out a compact to check for smudges, for ruined makeup. Satisfied, she swiped on lip balm and worked her mouth open and shut.

"…What time are you coming?"

"Ah… about that… I don't think I can make it."

Anyone who's held a real job knows you can't just throw around personal days. The people who can are either high performers who've recently been worked to the bone, or freeloaders quietly draining a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠paycheck.

"They said I put it in too last-minute and wouldn't approve it. Sorry."

"……Forget it. It's a place for kids to mess around. What's the point of dragging an adult in?"

"I'm really sorry."

"I said it's fine."

Ye-rim climbed out of the car looking dejected. The empty seat she left behind filled up with a quiet loneliness.

"Nnngh…."

I stretched and tipped my chair back. Ye-rim kept nagging at the edge of my mind, so I'd burned through the day's work at top speed. Normally, finishing early just meant getting pulled onto something else or sneaking in some goofing off — but today was different.

"Manager… I'm not feeling great today…."

"What? You pushed yourself all morning… go on home."

"Thank you…."

I'd finished the work fast enough that the guilt barely registered. All that was left was to head to the school in a good mood. It was two in the afternoon. Roughly forty minutes to get there — I'd catch at least the afternoon performances.

"……."

The second I thought it, traffic locked up solid. It wasn't a holiday. It wasn't even Friday. Why was everything jammed? I finally arrived past three instead of two-forty. Luckily the festival was still going, and the school gate was open.

"How can I help you?"

"I, uh… came for the festival."

"Sorry? Ah~ outsiders aren't allowed at this year's festival."

"Ah… is that so?"

No outside visitors. Had Ye-rim not known? The half-day I'd taken felt completely wasted. I'd forgotten to ask what booth she was running, and I'd been quietly curious.

"Haa…."

Nothing for it. I parked myself at a nearby café to wait and drive her home after school — and then her call came through.

"Ah… they said no outsiders allowed."

"Well… work wrapped up early."

I got up and headed for the car. Ye-rim was waiting out front with her arms crossed.

"Why'd you wait… you could've just left."

"Figured I'd give you a ride since I was already here."

"Then can we go to your place?"

"My place?"

"If not, never mind."

"I don't mind, but…."

We drove straight over. The second we walked in, the mess I hadn't cleaned up hit me square in the face.

"Ah."

"Hm? What?"

"Nothing… just a second. The room's kind of a disaster."

"I don't care."

"I care…."

I left Ye-rim stranded in the entryway and shoved everything out of sight. "Cleaning" was a generous word for it.

"Ah — I'm not done yet…."

"My bag's heavy. Whether you finish or not it's the same, so I came in."

"Yeah, well…."

I had nothing better to offer, so I brought out some juice and sat her at the desk.

"How was the festival?"

"It was fine. Booths, then some rap, the band club… and…."

Every festival still had kids who loved hip-hop. That never went away.

"Oh right. What was your booth?"

"Didn't I tell you?"

"No."

"…Then you don't need to know."

"What was it?"

"I said you don't need to know."

"Is it embarrassing to say?"

"……Yes."

"It's fine. I won't laugh. I'm just curious."

"It's not something funny."

"Then what?"

"……."

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Ye-rim hesitated, clearly mortified. I took a sip of juice and waited, giving her room.

Surely it wasn't something like a maid café—

"A maid… café."

"Ah… really?"

Speak of the devil. It really was a maid café. I'd heard plenty of schools did that kind of thing these days. If Ye-rim had been a maid, she'd probably been the fierce type — scolding rude customers, serving with a cold edge….

"What was on the menu?"

"Just omurice and… pancakes."

"Did you draw on them with ketchup and stuff?"

"If they asked."

"Oh~"

When I'd gone to Japan with friends, the place I'd wanted to visit most was a maid café. Of course, when it came time to actually go, everyone chickened out and we never made it.

"…Want me to?"

"Hm? Do the maid thing?"

"Do I really have to say it out loud?"

"No, I just… you offered."

"Haa… so do you want it or not."

"…Would you?"

"…Bathroom for a second."

"Sure."

Ye-rim took her bag into the bathroom. I used the window to change clothes, and a moment later she came out in hers.

"Um… Ye-rim."

"Yes?"

"You ran the booth in that?"

"Yes. Mom still had it."

"……I see."

No wonder it looked familiar. It was the one my sister used to wear. It looked a little tight on her, too. The memory hit hard enough that I flapped the hem of my clothes down to cover myself.

"……Mom."

"Hm?"

"Nothing. Never mind. Do you have ketchup and eggs?"

"Probably one or two. Why?"

"Because I'm cooking."

"Oh~ impressive."

"……It's nothing. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Haa… there really are just two…."

"Sorry…."

Ye-rim pulled fried rice from her bag and got to work in earnest. She hummed under her breath, and the sizzle from the pan was oddly pleasant.

"If you're a maid, you're supposed to provide service, right?"

I never imagined she still had that outfit. Why on earth would she keep it.

Ah… this is bad.

What had been at about ten percent had climbed to ninety. It was going to stay that way as long as Ye-rim didn't take the outfit off. I sang the national anthem in my head, fixed my eyes on a mobile game, and stretched my legs out straight.

"It's done."

"Already?!"

"Yes. All I did was reheat the fried rice and spread the egg."

"Right…."

I pressed as close to the desk as I could, hiding that part of me. The last thing I needed was some terrible misunderstanding.

"Here."

"Ah… thanks."

I handed Ye-rim a thin blanket. No one else was going to see, but she was still a girl. She took it, draped it over her thighs, and sat down.

"I only had two tries and both worked, so that was lucky."

"Yeah. You made two portions."

"Yes."

The fried rice smelled rich, the egg coating laid over it neat and pretty. But something about the presentation still felt bare — that empty yellow a little plain.

"……I'm not doing it. I only cooked. I didn't wait tables. Draw on it yourself."

"Okay."

I'd been hoping, but of course not…. Just wearing the outfit was probably mortifying enough. Doing a whole moe moe kyun routine — I'd want to die of embarrassment too.

"Ah."

"Haa…."

The second I squeezed the ketchup, a fat glop shot out, missed the plate, and splattered the desk. Ye-rim's face twisted into a look of pure disapproval, as if she'd been waiting for it.

"Who squeezes ketchup like a barbarian."

"It didn't hit you?"

"It didn't hit me. Give it here."

I handed over the bottle. She drew a heart with practiced ease and passed the plate back.

"…I only practiced the heart shape. That's all it is. It's getting cold, so eat."

"Yeah. Thanks. Digging in."

With a drawing on the empty yellow, it finally felt like I was eating real omurice. Thanks to her, dinner that night filled me up properly.

"Hoo… that was really good. I'll do the dishes, so you can head out."

"I'll do them. …It's on the house."

"Because you're a maid?"

"…Drop it."

I couldn't just sit there, so I cleared the table. It was my job to begin with, anyway.

"Hoo. Done."

"Thanks. You worked hard. Want a ride home?"

"No… I didn't tell Mom I was coming to Uncle's. I'll go alone."

"Alright. Be careful on the way."

"Yes. Goodbye."

"Ye-rim?"

"Yes?"

I called after her as she turned to leave.

"The outfit… you're going home like that?"

"Huh? Ah…."

Her face went scarlet and she bolted back into the bathroom. If I hadn't said anything… would she have walked home like that?

"…Ah."

Thinking about it — garter belt aside — that maid outfit was an adult one. The kind with the split crotch. Which meant all day long, and in front of me too.

……Nah. No way.

Ah… why was it climbing back to seventy percent.

Don't think weird things.