Sweet, savory scents and the aroma of spices blend together into a distinct sensory cocktail, teasing the hungry customers seated neatly at their tables.
Several girls in maid uniforms, complete with cat-like ornaments, wander the room with cheerful smiles. Some are taking orders, others are delivering trays of food, while a few clear empty dishes back to the kitchen.
Among them, a peculiar man stands with refined posture, ready to take orders from Rosa and Lilia, who are seated at their table.
"N-no way... you're Pastor Hendrik, right!?" Lilia blurts out, almost too loud, pointing a shaky finger at him.
"Unfortunately, I am unfamiliar with the name, my lady," the butler replies, gently shaking his head with a smile, followed by a flirtatious wink. "I am Sebastian. Now, may I take your order?"
Rosa's eyes widen, her crimson irises fixed on the butler. She doesn't even notice the twitch running through her body. Her lips slowly curl as she holds back a smile.
Something kicks up her heartbeat.
Is it because the butler is handsome?
No—she's met people just as handsome, maybe even more so, and felt nothing like this. Her heart shouldn't be racing.
Is it the ridiculous act? The way he looks at her like she's the most precious thing in the world? The politeness, the tenderness, the way he treats her like a princess?
No. It's a performance—a fake persona. She knows what Pastor Hendrik is really like. This stupid act shouldn't be making her this flustered.
"Hm? Is something bothering you, my lady?" He keeps his smile as he leans in slightly, tilting his head. His tender voice flows like a sutra in Rosa's ear, gently shaking her eardrums.
Rosa jolts as if struck by lightning, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She frantically searches for something—anything—to distract herself from that gentle gaze.
Her eyes land on Lilia, who meets her with a smug smile. A vein twitches on Rosa's temple. She holds back the urge to grab Lilia by the neck and choke a desperate plea out of her.
Lilia nervously glances away from Rosa's irritated glare and looks at the butler instead. "I heard the parfait here is great. What's the recommendation?"
"The most popular would be the Chocopaw Royale and Meowgical Berry-Mix Purrrfait, my lady."
She raises two fingers. "I'll take two of those, please! The berry-mix one!"
"As you wish, my lady." He bows gracefully, his pen almost invisible as he jots down the order. Then he turns to Rosa. "And for you, oh graceful lady?"
Rosa's body jolts again. She forcefully creaks her neck to meet his gaze. "P-p-p-pa-p-p-pa-pa-pa—"
Lilia sighs with a deadpan look. "What are you, a creaky carriage wheel?"
She turns back to the butler. "Just leave her for now. I'll let you know if we need anything else. Maybe leave the menu, just in case."
The butler bows politely again before leaving the table.
"Pa... pa... paaa..." Rosa stares into the empty air, her expression just as vacant—as if her soul has already crossed to the other side.
Lilia pokes Rosa's cheek with the corner of the menu. "Heeey... are you alive? Did Charon take your soul?"
A glimmer of life returns to Rosa's eyes. She frantically looks around. "Ah! Parfait! The parfait!"
"Already ordered. Also," Lilia's grin widens, "I never thought the calm and composed Rosa would be weak to butlerly charm~ You totally froze up just now."
"I-I did not!" Rosa pouts, looking away. "I was just caught off guard, that's all!"
"Oh, Hendrik's back."
"Hyuuu!"
Rosa jumps and glances around—only to see Lilia laughing. She swears to give her a good strangle later.
They don't have to wait long before a maid arrives, balancing a tray with their order. Two tall parfait glasses, each layered with alternating swirls of fluffy white cream and mixed berries, stand proudly inside—crowned with a literal cherry on top.
"Y-your order... is here..."
The maid's voice trembles like a leaf in the wind. She pauses, her lips parting again.
"...meow..."
It's so soft it barely makes it past the clink of silverware around them. Then, after the tiniest, most reluctant breath—
"...ster..."
The word dies halfway out of her mouth, as if even she's ashamed to hear it.
Rosa and Lilia both turn their heads in sync.
The maid towers over the table, taller than even the butler from earlier. Her hair flows a fiery orange down to her waist, swaying slightly with every nervous shift. The sleeveless, frilly mini-skirt uniform clings in all the wrong ways, a fake cat tail swishing idly behind her. On her head, two soft-furred animal ears twitch in clear discomfort—ears that connect to nothing but her. Real ears. A signature trait of the kemomimi race.
The veil that usually hides them is gone. The revealing outfit is a stark, almost absurd contrast to the modest robes she wore in her church duties. But worse—far worse—is that tender, teary-eyed, cherry-cheeked expression. The kind of look Rosa would never have dared to imagine on her. Not for a second. Not in this lifetime.
"Pfffffp!"
Lilia collapses forward, face buried in her folded arms, shoulders trembling like she's being electrocuted.
Rosa's jaw tightens. She snaps her gaze downward, lips threatening to curl upward against her will.
She is not laughing. She is not.
She shouldn't laugh. She must not laugh.
She absolutely cannot laugh at this.
"I-Is something the matter, m-meowsters?" the maid mutters, jaw clenched, her voice deepening into a barely restrained growl. Her palms whiten as her grip tightens, the glasses clattering against the tray. She gazes at both of them with a stiff, unmoving smile—except for the extra popped veins decorating her forehead. Rosa doesn't dare look back, feeling the piercing gaze on her. Yet her shoulders shake with suppressed laughter.
"I-it's... nothing..." Rosa tries to answer properly, but her voice comes out shaky from the mirth threatening to burst.
The maid places their order on the table with impressive precision, considering how badly her hands are shaking. Not a single drop is spilled. She then steps back and takes deep breaths, as if preparing for something.
A cheerful voice suddenly breaks the silence from two tables over, grabbing Rosa's attention.
"Then, meowsters~ I shall put a tasty spelly, a blessing to your belly~!"
Another maid strikes a pose, dramatically wiggling her fingers with two glyph stones in hand.
Rosa instantly recognizes the stones. She doesn't even need to see the symbols—she's used the same kind for lighting when preparing ingredients for alchemy or enchantments.
The maid moves fluidly as she chants her "spell": "Nyan-nyan, tasty treat, meow-meow, happy eat!"
She moves the stones in a heart shape, leaving a trail of pink light in the air. The engraved symbols glow gently. Then she pushes the glowing heart forward, sending it floating toward the food as the magical light scatters beautifully. The maid bows politely.
"Enjoy your meal, meowsters!" Then she walks away from the table.
Oh no...
Rosa's eyes slowly return to the now-frozen orange-haired maid—Akira—who's holding the same kind of glyph. Rosa can clearly make out the symbol. Their gazes meet, and that boiling pressure inside Rosa erupts even harder.
The look on Akira's face... it's a cursed mix of anger and shame. A twitchy, forced smile. Rosy cheeks—no, a rosy face. And in her eyes, a glint of silent pleading, as if begging the gods to strike her down right there on the spot.
"Nyan... nyan..." Akira whimpers.
"T-t-tasty... treat... meow..."
Rosa slams her face into the table and folds her arms over her head. "S-sorry... I got a stomach ache all of a sudden..." she mutters, her voice cracking—clearly at her limit.
"Buh!"
A sudden, cough-like sound bursts from across the table.
Lilia, please no...
"Bahahahahaha! Aha! Aha! Hahahahahahaha!!"
Lilia collapses onto her back on the café bench, laughing hysterically. She clutches her stomach, her eyes already teary from laughter. Rosa's shoulders vibrate; chuckles begin spilling from her too.
"Y-you guys... you're dead... both of you... you hear me?" Akira mutters softly, trying to keep her voice level despite the trembling. But the two are too far gone to even hear her.
Finally, as if she can't take it anymore, Akira covers her face with both palms and storms off toward the staff room.
"Hahahaha... Sorry... Hehehe... I can't... I just can't!"
Rosa can't hide it anymore either. Concern bubbles up as she imagines what kind of revenge Akira might cook up later, but the absurdity of that outfit and her forced lines completely overshadows it.
"Th-that's... Hahahaha! That's Akira, right!? THAT Akira, right!? Hahahaha! Rosa, help me! The usually foul-mouthed nun—hah! Not even in a million years! Hahahaha!"
Their laughter echoes across the café for a while.
The parfaits remain untouched.