Muse

Chapter 34

The Ranka Nyan café was about as much as I expected out of a Japanese maid café. It had all the esthetic of a Victorian drawing room while also reminding me of my Uncle Vern's log cabin, black and white bathroom tiled floor included. There were parts of it that felt purposeful, like the stylish wall paintings of portraits and fox hunts and the occasional set of deer antlers, and parts of it that felt like a Japanese take on Western culture, like the niche French maid outfits and the bizarre choice in animals they decided to have mounted and framed with rococo styled picture frame to the walls (I had already counted two sheep, an unicorn, three headless teddy bears, and a glass fox head before deciding to take the strangeness in stride). I loved every bit of it.

Everything in the café oozed personality, from fine tea cups and walnut-marble furniture all the way to the hand-written letters hodge-podged onto the paisley wallpaper. The inner critic in me was itching to point out inaccuracies, like that maids didn't serve food and that the footmen, not butlers, were supposed to wear white gloves, but I kept my two cents to myself. It's not like I was the authority on English living, especially since my only facts were gleamed from watching six seasons of Downton Abbey with my mother. I had no right to fault anyone for trying to immerse themselves in something that they loved. Doing that would just paint me as a bigger hypocrite, like my mother.

Enamored with the atmosphere and the excitement of being here, I barely registered that Izuku's arm had dropped from mine until I realized I suddenly had both hands to take snapshots of the café. "...Amaya?" he uttered. I lowered my phone, glancing between Izuku and the short maid that stood as one of the greeters. She wore what you would expect a typical anime girl to wear in a maid café, the only difference being the fluffy white cat ears on top of her lace headband that seemed to move like those fancy robot cosplay cat ears. Was she one of his friends? Must have been to use her first name like that- unless I was wrong and it happened to be her last name. She was gorgeous, all tan and thin with dark purple hair and contrasting gold eyes so bright that I wanted to take reference shots of them for my next character design.

"What are you doing here?" Izuku asked the maid, her moment of panic changing into one of sharp disdain.

"This... is my day job," the maid sighed. "Apparently I look like this one cat-girl from Bleach, so they hired me on the spot."

"Oh my god, I see it now! What was her name? Yor- Yoroi- something," I snapped my fingers. It had been so long since I had gone through my Bleach phase that most names blurred together. "Well, if it's any consolation, she's one of the more badass characters of the series and really pretty, so not a bad person to look like."

The maid, now noticing I was there, narrowed her eyes at me like I was a piece of gum she had just noticed was stuck to her shoe. "...Who's this?"

"Oh, sorry! This is Alyssa Blake. Alyssa, this is Amaya Shirogane."

"Nice to meet you," I offered my hand before realizing my etiquette snafu and quickly put it down at my side and did a short bow. So he did say her first name... Was she an ex? She looked a little young to be an ex-girlfriend, and Izuku had told me that he's never gone on a date before, but everything seemed so well-planned out. Had that just been a line to make me drop my guard?

"How's Hitachi?" Izuku asked, Amaya's irritated expression wavering somewhat.

"He's fine. He's obsessed with the hero program you mentioned, so lately he's been training his butt off and studying harder than ever to make the grade."

"That's great!" Izuku exclaimed before another maid with corkscrew pigtails came up behind Amaya.

"Nyanmaya, perhaps you would like to show our guests to their table?" she suggested. Amaya's expression shifted from annoyed to plastic in a split second, doing a complete one-eighty from her personality before.