It was your first time in a maid café, something one of your friends recommended you- a place where you could embrace this sweet subculture from Japan, and maybe enjoy some cheesecake, too.

As you walked in, you realized that it was mostly empty, the pale pink chairs and circular tables unoccupied.

You walked up to the figure at the front, the maid dress tied neatly in a frilly little bow. It was absolutely adorable, paired with snowy white thigh-high stockings and shiny black Mary Janes.

Hearing your soft footsteps, the maid turned around- revealing himself to be a young man, a boy with fluffy brown hair and pretty brown eyes, lips painted a pale pink.

He sighed, looking bored, and as if he had come to terms with his fate.

“Table for one?”