As I enter the maid café, I'm greeted by exactly what you'd expect—maids. But not just any maids: cat maids. She must feel right at home here. Mischievous, playful, always landing on her feet—this place might as well be her litter box.
It's only after three steps taken that I must face the wrath of The One You Should Not Piss. "Will we ever share a day where you don't make me wait five or more hours for you…?"
"You waited five hours for me!?" I have a feeling that she's saying that to make me feel bad, but a part of me can believe that she'd arrive that early just for someone.
"Well, I did get here earlier than I'd say we meet, but not five hours. Still, you made me wait an hour longer than I should've. And for that, it is now your civic duty to pay for today's date."
"Fine, fine, I'll pay for today's—" wait, did she say date? This lack of sleep must be seriously getting to me. "Ahem. Sure, I'll pay for today."
"Really? I had assumed that you were late because you overslept, and in haste, you had forgotten to bring your wallet. I apologize for my misjudgment of you."
No, you hit the nail on the head, that's what I should be saying, but I can't let this moment slip away from me. It's not every day that Olympia apologizes to me for a mistake on her part. Albeit, she shouldn't apologize.
"Apology taken. I have a question. Is there a particular reason you wanted to meet here?" I ask.
"Hmm, they have really good coffee."
"..."
I had expected a more fleshed-out answer, but I guess her response is fine.
"Also," Olympia creeps closer to me, "it's not every day you get to see cute girls in maid outfits. Let alone cat maid outfits." She has a devious grin as she says this. For some reason, I feel bad for the workers here, knowing that a pervert like Olympia frequents here. "C'mon, I've already got a seat for us, so let's go sit down."
If she's already got a seat for us, she must have been saving it for over an hour. Now I feel even worse.
As we sat, Olympia ordered a wide array of food and drinks. She ordered a fancy coffee with a name so long I can't remember it. Food-wise, she ordered plenty of pastries, ranging from crepes to hot cakes. I never expected a girl with her figure to be able to eat so much food at once. I'm impressed. Amazed, even. I, myself, ordered a milk tea and a soufflé. My food was delicious, not overly sweet, but sweet enough to satisfy my craving. Surely this sugar will allow me to bear through this night of witch hunting.
In the middle of our feast (more so Olympia's feast), I can't help but ask her a question: "Where are we?"
"Hmm? What do you mean? Did you not see the sign outside? Also, the address I sent you had the name of this location."
It's true, the address of this café did have this location's name, but it completely glossed over it. Weird. I don't even remember noticing the sign when I got here…but somehow, I walked straight in. That's a habit that I've noticed I've adopted. Even without knowing the names of the places I want to go to, I still manage to find a way there. I don't know how, but this hasn't gotten in my way, so there's never been much of a reason for me to think about it.
"Even though the answer is obvious, Kiyomi Oblivious, I'll answer as best as I can. Where are we? Well, we are in the world. Which world? The internal world or the external world?"
Olympia tapped her drink lightly with the spoon.
"Do you believe in the internal and external worlds?" she asked, eyes curious.
I shrugged, unsure what she meant.
"The internal world," she continued, "is the world we experience—the one filtered through our senses." She smiled faintly. "Take this cup," she said, tapping it again. "The clank you hear—that sound is part of our internal world. It's the sensation created by the noise.
"The sweetness of your milk tea, too, is something only you experience. Unless, of course, you're kind enough to share it with me." She gave me a playful glance.
"But these sensations come from the external world—the reality outside of us. The ingredients in your drink, the cup, the spoon I'm using…they all existed long before we noticed them.
She paused, swirling her coffee. "So, what separates the two? The external becomes internal only when we perceive it."
"But what demarcates the two? What is the difference between the internal world and the external world? Everything internal begins externally—we sense it, absorb it, make it ours. But what's external doesn't fully exist to us until it crosses that threshold into experience."
"It's as if we create this world that already exists. Some people would argue that 'all they know is that they don't know anything', but before tonight's meeting, were you aware of this café's existence? You weren't. You didn't know what you didn't know. And it's impossible to do so, unless you go out searching for this unknown. But how would that even work, anyway? We're out searching for a witch, and as much as I want to believe that she exists, at the current moment, she is no more than a rumor. We're searching for something that we don't know even exists, only because you heard a rumor that could very much be a farce.
"But still, even if this witch doesn't exist, even if we don't know if there exists a world outside of our perception, that doesn't mean we should close our eyes. The world grows with you. This internal world that belongs to us, your internal world that belongs to you, the external world that belongs to us all, I'm sure that we'll find out what demarcates the two. I'm sure you will.
"The internal world and the external world. In the end, is there much of a difference between the two?
"So I'll answer your question after having asked a number of my own. Where are we? We're in the Maneki Maid Café. That is the name of where we are. Words are strange—they're the bridge between the world inside our heads and the one outside. Sometimes language can't quite catch what we feel or see. It's like trying to hold sand in your hands. I hope that is a satisfactory answer, Kiyomi Oblivious."
She finishes her drink with this closing line.
If the world outside is shaped by what we notice—by the moments we choose to spend—then tonight was worth every penny.