So there’s this maid, Hasumi. And she’s got it bad for eaika, like, “staring at her maid uniform longer than a cat stares at a laser pointer” bad. While daydreaming about frilly aprons and feather dusters, Hasumi’s been… let’s say keeping her own company at night. But Raika? She’s not just a pretty face with a dustpan. When she realizes Hasumi genuinely wants to master the sacred art of maid-ing, like, really wants it. So Raika decides to give her a live, hands-on tutorial. Their lucky volunteer? Renji. The poor guy in a seven-day lockdown. We’re talking about a dude whose situation downstairs is more pressurized than a shaken soda can at a rock concert. Now here come the two maids. Renji probably expected something chill, maybe some tea serving, a polite bow, a gentle “welcome home, master.” Nope. They launch what they call “service” but what everyone else would call psychological warfare with lace trim. Raika corrects Hasumi’s posture while poor Renji lies there like a burrito. Raika guides Hasumi’s hands. Hasumi blushes. And Renji? Renji just lies there vibrating like a phone on silent mode. Seeing that Hasumi always had the talent for it, Raika’s smirking like a cat who ate the canary.
