"You know, I was expecting something special from you, but I still underestimated you," I said as we sat in the living room. She proudly showcased her collection of knives.
"Thank you. I'm excellent at 'cleaning' jobs," she replied, referring to the lethal tools on display.
"No, when me and your previous owner's late family member were talking about cleaning, we didn't mean that way..." I gestured toward the knives she used for her assassinations.
"No?" she asked innocently.
I had brought home an unknown woman simply because she wore a maid uniform, had an attractive face, and her situation felt like something out of an anime plot. So here I was, discussing her true employment while she seemed more like a tool than a person, given her mental state. She wasn't just trained to be a killer; she also had no clue how to navigate modern society, if my [Cold Reading] skill was accurate.
That skill had already reached its maximum level but hadn't evolved into a prestige skill. I hoped to find another skill token or something similar to develop a better skill. Perhaps I could achieve that after reaching a high enough level?
I needed to focus and not get lost in these currently useless thoughts.
"Well, pick up your knives from the table and follow me. I'll guide you to your room, and after you prepare, I'll give you a tour of the house and explain your duties."
---
"This is the storage room where the cleaning tools and other supplies are kept. Now, that's the tour of the house. Do you have any more questions?"
She looked up before responding, "No."
"Perfect. Now, focus on me. I'll teach you what to do and how to do it."
I grabbed the mop and bucket. I had previously taught her about cleaning floors with a broom, and now I would show her how to use the mop and bucket for a sparkling finish. After a brief demonstration and with my [Teaching] skill at level 74, I was confident she would catch on quickly. To her credit, she was trying hard.
*Slip*
*Splash*
*Clank*
Unfortunately, she was a bit clumsy—something I wouldn't have expected from a former assassin. It was odd because she had excellent body control; when she slipped on the wet floor, she was able to regain her balance mid-air and land perfectly. But this time, the bucket landed squarely on her head, soaking her completely.
"I'm sorry..." she said.
"It's not a problem," I assured her. "Let's stop for today. You're completely soaked, and I don't want you to catch a cold. Why don't you take a bath? Do you know how to operate it?"
"Yes, don't worry."
After double-checking, I confirmed she was familiar with the bath's operation, so I left a bathrobe for her before she entered.
While she relaxed in the bath after what had been a stressful day for her, I started cooking dinner for us. I decided to make something more luxurious and special than usual, knowing her taste sense was likely skewed. I had read about this in psychological books, and I had also seen it portrayed in an anime. In "Tate no Yuusha", for example, the Shield Hero Naofumi experienced betrayal that caused him psychological trauma, which left him unable to taste anything.
After finishing the preparation of the ingredients, I decided to take a different approach. If she is a heroine, then her protagonist must have the solution to her taste problem.
In a typical anime scenario, the plot might involve her regaining her lost sense of taste after a meal prepared with love. I'm confident I can surpass that, thanks to my [Cooking] prestige skill [Chef].
However, there's also another possible route: she could retain her poor sense of taste but fall completely in love with a particular ingredient—much like the sister in that anime who adds pizza sauce to everything.
I have time for a quick trip.
---
""Itadakimasu~""
I decided to simplify my dinner plans based on the advice of an old woman from her world and renowned for its long-standing tradition of making a special sauce called Katsuta Sauce.
Tonight's dinner features homemade tonkatsu—not the pre-packaged kind from the supermarket—along with a mixed salad dressed with olive oil and salt, an Italian approach, of course, and a cup of rice since we Japanese are avid rice lovers.
As I picked up my chopsticks and started with the salad, my attention turned to the maid, who was reaching for the tonkatsu without dipping it in the sauce. My earlier instincts proved correct; she seemed far from enthusiastic about dinner, her expression more lifeless than usual. It was clear she was thinking, "I don't feel any difference between foods," or "Food is just food, nothing more." She appeared almost indifferent to her plate.
However, the moment the morsel entered her mouth, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Her eyes brightened in amazement at the taste she had never experienced before; her cheeks flushed with color, and as she continued to chew, tears began to flow.
I reached for a handkerchief to offer her, but she was entirely absorbed in the food, so I went ahead and wiped the tears from her face myself.
"I-I'm sorry. *sniff* I don't..."
"Shh, it's okay. They say, 'A cook's greatest joy is the smile on their guest's face,' and yours is radiant right now. Let's set aside the unnecessary conversation and enjoy the meal. Why don't you try the sauce? I'm sure it will complement the tonkatsu beautifully."
We didn't exchange any more words; the only sounds in the kitchen were the sounds of eating and occasional sniffles. In the end, it wasn't an awkward moment at all.
---
"I know it's late since we spent a few hours together, and I'm sure you have your reasons for not telling me until now, but I have to ask: What's your name? By the way, mine is Masachika—Masachika Kuze."
After dinner, we started cleaning up. I was at the sink washing the plates while she stood next to me drying them.
"I don't have a name. My master gave me one, but he continued to use whatever he liked. You can do the same, Kuze-sama."
I always liked how that sounded, but I think we could do better.
"Call me Masachika-sama. As for your name..." I paused for a moment, considering my next words. "Since you are an assassin and already aware of my powers, I won't try to hide them. Now, about your name: how about we try something? You see, I have a special ability from which I can obtain anything, so why don't I use that to get your name? Perhaps we can discover something interesting."
She nodded at me without a hint of surprise at my revelation, so I continued. For 100 Shards, I brought forth a slip of paper with her name on it.
When it appeared in front of us, I examined it before consulting her. "So, there are three different names listed here. I don't know all of your previous owners' names, but they might be different. Let's start with the first one... Maria."
"...!" That got a reaction from her; whether it was good or bad, I couldn't tell.
"That is... probably my birth name."
'Probably,' huh? That sounds like something I should research later.
"The second name is Xue. Do you recognize it?"
"Yes. That is the name my master gave me after I became an assassin."
There was no intense reaction to that name. She knew it, but it didn't seem to hold any significance for her. Xue? That name is Chinese, while the first one seems Italian or of Christian origin.
"Now, the last name: Yuki Yokoya. Does that sound familiar?"
"Mmh... No one has ever called me Yuki, but Yokoya should be the name of the family I tried to ask before you found me."
So, maybe in her plot, she was adopted by that family? Now, which name should I use? I didn't want to use Maria—it felt too Italian for someone who has nothing in common with one. While I felt more secure using Xue, it seemed like she wanted an escape from her life as an assassin, and forcing her to use a name tied to that life didn't feel right to me.
"Rejoice! From now on, you'll be Yuki. As for the surname Yokoya... I'm not sure about that one. And be proud, because you'll share the same name as my sister!"
"Yuki... Sister..."
It seemed she liked it, but the second word...
"Yuki-san, do you have a sister?"
"I... yes... Yes! I have a sister! Her name is... Anna!"
Was she Italian, or half-Italian? First Maria, now Anna...
"Then, Yuki-san, would you like to tell me about her? In exchange, I'll tell you everything about my sister."
We went to bed after an hour of talking about our little sisters, and I was satisfied with the outcome of the day. I got a beautiful maid while helping her embrace a life she never could have before. Maybe, in the process, I even helped her.
---
Chapter Title: Another Yuki