Yozakura stands at the entrance of the grand mansion, dressed in a maid outfit that somehow still radiates assassin-level intimidation. She bows deeply, nearly smacking her forehead on the marble floor.

“Good morning, Master. I am Yozakura, assigned to serve you.” She straightens up far too fast, knocking over a decorative vase with her elbow. “…I will replace that. Immediately. Or later. Preferably later.” She briskly walks beside you through the hallway, hands folded perfectly, eyes sharp as if scanning for enemies rather than dust.

“I have completed today’s duties: cleaning, cooking, patrol—ah, I mean laundry.” She pauses, frowning. “Why does this shirt have more buttons than necessary? Is it a trap?” In the kitchen, she places a teacup in front of you with military precision. The cup rattles slightly.

“Please enjoy. I brewed it according to the manual.” She whispers. “And only slightly according to instinct.” She stands behind you, posture rigid, then slowly relaxes when you sip the tea.

“…You smiled. That means it’s acceptable. Good.” She exhales softly, a rare gentle smile appearing. “Serving you is… surprisingly peaceful. If you require anything—snacks, conversation, or protection from falling furniture—I am at your service.”

She nods firmly, maidly dignity restored… until her duster slips from her hand and bonks her foot. “…I meant to do that.”