Using the flyer and his phone's GPS, Jingu Yō led Aki Tomoya through the streets of Akihabara in search of the maid café. Along the way, they chatted idly—partly to kill time, but also because Yō, by habit, liked to gather information about the people he interacted with.
Aki Tomoya, though full of passion and energy as your stereotypical hardcore otaku, was still just a middle schooler. Compared to Yō—who had lived a full adult life before being reincarnated and thus had the poise and maturity of someone seasoned by the real world—he was easy to read. With just a few casual exchanges, Yō was able to piece together the basics.
Third-year in middle school. Lives in the same ward Yō currently resides in, and probably not far either. When Tomoya had casually mentioned Toyosaki Private Academy, Yō had instantly connected the dots—there were only a couple of high schools in that area.
He also had a childhood friend named "Eriri," though for some reason their relationship had soured recently. Only just recently had things started to thaw between them again. And all those items Tomoya had handed over to Yō earlier? They were originally meant for that girl.
But the name "Eriri" stirred something faint in Yō's memory. Even Aki Tomoya rang a distant bell. It felt like his memories were right there, hovering just behind a thin sheet of frosted glass—just one solid push away from recollection. But that invisible wall was surprisingly resilient, almost like a hymen of memory, resisting his probing mind.
Shaking his head, Yō shelved the thought for now. Whatever that wall was made of, he was confident he could break through it when the time came.
For the time being, this was as deep as he could dig. Anything more would have been too much for two people who had only just met.
"Welcome home, Masters!!"
Akihabara had no shortage of maid cafés, but thanks to the sheer cuteness of the girl handing out flyers earlier, Yō had chosen this one. And the moment they stepped inside, two maids at the entrance greeted them with bouncy voices and graceful bows in their modified European-style maid outfits.
Their smiles were bright, their voices soft and melodic, and their exaggeratedly cute gestures made the whole thing feel like a live-action anime scene.
"Jingu-senpai… are we really eating here for lunch?" Tomoya asked, a little stunned.
"Yeah, that's the plan. I've always wanted to experience the atmosphere of a maid café. And let's be honest—compared to some random restaurant filled with normies who don't get 'moe' culture, a place like this, dripping with the essence of the 2D world, should be way more your style, right? Or… am I wrong to assume that?"
Yō tilted his head curiously.
"No, no! Not at all! I'm just surprised. But you really are a diamond in the rough, Senpai! You're already beginning to grasp the true essence of the 2D realm!"
Tomoya's eyes practically sparkled with fervor. His enthusiasm radiated the kind of energy that said "I will not rest until you become one of us."
"Haha… Aki-kun, you're exaggerating…"
Yō forced an awkward smile. The way Tomoya was acting, it almost felt like he was trying to induct Yō into a cult—or worse, a certain philosophical dimension of the 2D world. And what did he mean by "diamond in the rough," anyway?
As they stepped further inside, Yō scanned the interior. Anime motifs covered the place wall-to-wall. In one corner, a large glass cabinet was filled with unfamiliar but exquisitely crafted figures. Another wall had a shelf stacked with light novels and plushies, giving the space a cozy and colorful vibe. A small TV played a recorded performance from some of the café's maids.
It was high noon, and though natural sunlight filled the café, the warm, homey feel remained undiminished—helped by the photo-covered walls showing various maids with their smiling customers.
The café was located off the main drag, in a narrow back alley, and was relatively small. But to Yō's surprise, the place was packed. That spoke volumes about its reputation in Akihabara. Naturally, the customers were almost all men, save for two girls in the far corner who looked more like foreign tourists curious about Japanese otaku culture than actual fans.
"Ah! It's you, Master!"
A familiar, cheerful voice called out. Yō turned toward it—it was the flyer girl from earlier.
Dressed in a black-and-white traditional maid outfit layered with a light jacket and topped with an adorable hair accessory, she looked even cuter under the soft lighting. Now that Yō got a proper look, he noticed her makeup was minimal. With his cosplay experience, he could see past the subtle cosmetics to her real face.
A truly beautiful girl—so fresh and soft-looking, like she might drip water if you squeezed her. Her cheeks were lightly flushed with youthful innocence, and her smile radiated genuine warmth. In any school setting, she'd no doubt be the idol of her class.
Still, Yō's gaze naturally drifted downward… toward those legs.
Her slender legs, wrapped in perfectly fitting maid socks, were impossibly straight and smooth. Japanese girls often ended up with bowlegs from kneeling too much, but this girl? Her legs were flawless. Perfect lines. Graceful curves. And that alluring "absolute territory" of white skin between skirt and sock—truly a siren's call.
"Coming here was definitely the right move," Yō thought. "At the very least, the view alone makes lunch worth it."
He let himself indulge a little.
"Maybe one day, if I ever get rich… I'll hire a bunch of cute maids in my private villa… and throw a wild, no-holds-barred naked banquet."
He was, after all, a man with a grown-up soul. Dirty thoughts were inevitable.
The maid, of course, had no idea her bare thighs were sparking such debauchery. She simply flashed a sweet, gap-toothed smile—one of those perfectly neat, white-toothed grins. Frankly, many Japanese girls had crooked teeth, and the local culture even found that look "cute." But to someone born in mainland China like Yō, poorly aligned teeth were more of a turn-off than a charm.
"Is this your first time here, Masters?" the cute maid asked, her voice like warm fluff.
Yō glanced at Tomoya—unsure if this otaku had been here before—but replied anyway, "Yeah, it's our first time."
Her voice was as soft as a lullaby, like a child's before puberty—innocent and utterly disarming.
"In that case, it's time for Maid-sensei's special lesson~!"
With a playful pose, she raised one leg, pulled out a pair of glasses from her little crossbody bag, and put them on dramatically.
Yō blinked.
"Wait… Sensei? Glasses? …Are we about to shoot an AV or something?"
In the sacred land of Japanese culture, certain keywords triggered very specific mental images. And with "teacher" and "glasses" in the same breath, Yō—whose mind had long been poisoned by that nation's darker exports—couldn't help but go there first.