Chapter 2: Life with a Maid

“I’m home.”

“Welcome home, Master.”

As I pushed open the heavy front door, there she stood—a maid.

A genuine, bonafide maid.

“I told you to stop calling me Master, didn’t I?” I said, exasperation creeping into my voice.

“Oh, my apologies. I can’t help it when I wear this outfit—it just slips out. Kiyomiya-kun, you’re rather late today, aren’t you?”

“Just took a little detour, that’s all.”

“A detour? How old-fashioned. Does the young master of a thousand-year-old noble family speak so differently?”

“Dunno. Never really thought about it.”

Her own speech, laced with that “wayo” and “dawa” speech patterns, felt just as archaic. It was her personal quirk, though—not worth pointing out.

[T/N: “wayo” (～わよ) and “dawa” (～だわ) are japanese sentence-ending particles that make speech sound feminine and kind of old-timey or fancy.]

I slipped off my shoes at the entrance, stepping into a pair of waiting slippers. My home, the “Kiyomiya Family Old Manor,” loomed around me—a grand, Western-style mansion that lived up to its formidable name. Built some hundred and twenty years ago, its exterior remained nearly untouched, a relic of its time.

The interior, however, had been modernized through careful renovations. Air conditioning hummed quietly, and the kitchen, bath, and toilets were all fitted with contemporary comforts, blending the old with the new seamlessly.

“Living in this musty old mansion makes me feel even more out of touch with the world, huh?” I muttered, my voice echoing faintly in the grand hall.

“That’s perfectly fine, Kiyomiya-kun,” Hisaka replied, “You needn’t concern yourself with worldly affairs. Leave all that to me.”

“Worldly affairs…”

Another phrase you’d scarcely hear in daily life. Did dwelling in this antiquated mansion turn everyone into a connoisseur of archaic words?

“By the way,” I added, glancing at her, “weren’t you home a bit early today?”

“As the one tasked with handling worldly matters, I have responsibilities to attend to. So, I came straight back without dawdling.”

Exchanging banter like that, we strolled down the long, shadowed hallway and stepped into the living room. Honestly, navigating this sprawling mansion to reach my room on the second floor was always a chore. But that was beside the point.

“Hisaka, I’ve told you a million times—you don’t need to rush home and start working in that maid outfit.”

Yes, the one greeting me in a maid outfit at my own home was none other than Hisaka Sayaka. My classmate, the girl who sat next to me at school, the institution’s sole scholarship student, a renowned beauty—and the (temporary) maid of the Kiyomiya Family Old Manor.

Clad in a black knee-length dress, a crisp white apron, and a matching white headband, Hisaka embodied the classic maid aesthetic. Save for the slightly short skirt, her outfit was textbook perfection. Appearance-wise, she was the quintessential maid.

Yet, as the master of this old manor, I couldn’t help but see Hisaka more as a ‘freeloader’ than anything else.

“The maid outfit is important, you know. People judge based on appearances after all.” Sayaka declared.

Before I could respond, she gave a playful twirl, her knee-length skirt flaring just enough to reveal a fleeting glimpse of her white thighs. My eyes, traitorously, lingered more on her legs than the maid outfit itself.

“Look,” I said, forcing my gaze upward, “I don’t care about appearances. You can wear something more comfortable.”

Having a beauty like her prancing around in a maid outfit put me in all sorts of awkward predicaments, ones I’d rather avoid.

“I’m just a ‘temporary hire,’ aren’t I?” she countered, undeterred. “I need to show my enthusiasm if I want to be officially hired.”

“I don’t need a maid, period,” I shot back, exasperation creeping in.

“Saying that just ends the conversation.”

“Nothing’s ending. I’m just saying this old Western mansion doesn’t need a maid.”

With a sigh, I sank into the sofa, its aged but impeccable craftsmanship cradling me comfortably. Hisaka stepped out of the living room, only to return about ten minutes later.

“Here, tea. Drink up.”

I blinked at her commanding tone, half-tempted to slip into overly polite speech just to mess with her. “Are you really a maid?”

“This is a maid’s true calling,” Sayaka declared with a hint of pride. “Brewing tea is practically the core of the job.”

“Is it, though…?” I muttered, skeptical. Maid duties aside, if brewing tea was all it took, that sounded like a pretty cushy gig.

With that thought, I lifted the teacup and took a sip. The flavor hit my tongue, and I paused, assessing. “Hmm… it’s just okay.”

“Thanks for the unfiltered feedback,” she replied, her tone dry.

“No point sugarcoating it,” I said, leaning back. “The tea leaves are high-end, but it’s like a hundred-point tea got knocked down to fifty-five.”

“Your unfiltered feedback’s turning into straight-up insults,” Hisaka shot back, fixing me with a glare.

Even when calling herself a maid, her attitude was barely different from how she acted at school. The only real distinctions were her outfit—school uniform versus this maid ensemble—and a few stylistic choices. At school, she wore black-rimmed glasses and tied her hair in twin tails, but here, she ditched the glasses and let her hair cascade freely.

Oh, and there was her occasional, playful habit of calling me “Master.” I really wished she’d stop that—it was dangerously close to making me feel good.

“Anyway,” she said, brushing off the critique, “take your time with the tea. I’m heading back to cleaning.”

“Hold up, hold up, that’s the thing.”

“What thing?” she asked, tilting her head with a small quirk of curiosity.

She was a cool, mature beauty, no question, but those occasional childlike gestures? Utterly unfair.

“I need to talk, Hisaka. Sit down.”

“A maid can’t just sit in front of her master, you know.”

“You’re a temporary hire, so it’s fine. Just sit. It’s hard to talk with you standing there.”

“You’re so difficult…” Hisaka muttered, reluctantly perching on the edge of the L-shaped sofa, as if I’d forced her into it.

“Look, Hisaka, you really don’t need to work as a maid.”

“I’m not planning to mooch off this mansion for free.”

“…”

Hisaka Sayaka—my classmate—had shown up at my mansion just a few days ago. I’d only been living in this old manor myself for less than two weeks.

When I started high school, I left the Kiyomiya Family Main Residence, where I’d lived since birth. It’s one of the Kiyomiya family’s so-called traditions: the men must leave home at some point and live elsewhere. They say it fosters independence or lets you live freely away from family—something like that. When it’s labeled a tradition, there’s not much room to argue.

Truth be told, it suited me just fine. I’d been itching to get out of my parents’ house anyway.

“I’m mooching plenty, though,” I admitted. “Even living on my own, I get a comfy allowance and spending money. Totally spoiled.”

“And on top of that, you’re living it up without your parents’ watchful eyes,” Hisaka shot back. “That makes you even more spoiled than the average rich kid.”

“Ouch, harsh. That’s exactly why I can’t have a live-in maid and let myself get too lazy.”

“I never said I’d let you slack off.”

“Huh?”

“I’m just saying I’ll handle cooking, cleaning, and laundry as a maid. No picky eating, no leaving leftovers, and if you mess up your room, I’ll scold you. If you come home with your clothes covered in mud, you’re skipping dinner.”

“Are you my mom or something?!” I exclaimed. At my age, coming home covered in mud would be a bit too wild.

“Fine, let’s talk seriously.”

“Hm?” I blinked. Aren’t we already having a serious talk?

“Kiyomiya-kun, you haven’t really looked at this mansion,” Hisaka said, her tone sharp. “That’s why you can be so naive about not needing a maid.”

“You mean it’s too big to maintain without help?”

“…” Hisaka’s large eyes widened further, her hands pressing to her cheeks in an exaggerated display. “This is the face of a maid utterly shocked at how surprisingly perceptive you are.”

“Hey, are you making fun of me or something?”

“Perish the thought!” she interjected. “As far as I’m concerned, I’d be delighted if my employer were capable.”

“Look, I’m not your employer, and I have no intention of becoming one, okay?” I shot back. I could handle being teased, but being expected to hire someone was a problem.

“Still, if you don’t hire help, this ridiculously huge mansion will fall apart.”

“…”

“The only ones in this old manor are me and Kiyomiya-kun—just the two of us. All alone,” Hisaka said, her voice lingering on the last words.

“Can you not emphasize that part?” I muttered. Maybe because this mansion was so massive, I sometimes forgot, but Hisaka and I were living here, just the two of us. A guy and a girl the same age, under one roof. It was hard to deny it felt like we were living together.

“The first floor has a living room, a reception room, a dining room, a kitchen, a parlor, a game room, a study, and a library,” she continued. “The second floor has six bedrooms. There are four bathrooms and three baths. The basement has three rooms. And the annex has five servant bedrooms, enough for ten people to stay comfortably.”

“I didn’t even know all that,” I admitted. As Hisaka pointed out, this mansion was absurdly large. Honestly, I’d given up on grasping its full layout—more like, I didn’t need to know to get by, so I hadn’t bothered.

“I make a full round of the mansion every day,” Hisaka said. “Though Kiyomiya-kun’s room is always locked tight.”

“…Sorry about that. Back at the main estate, I was taught to always lock my room.”

“I understand. We should respect each other’s privacy. A wire couldn’t pick that lock, you know.”

“What did you do!?” I exclaimed. No matter how old this mansion was, an amateur shouldn’t be able to pick its locks. I’d heard the keys here were intricately designed, not something you could easily duplicate.

“Just kidding. Back to the point—this massive mansion can’t be maintained by you alone, Kiyomiya-kun, can it?”

“…Keeping just the space I live in maintained isn’t that hard.”

“True, until I came along, you were basically living in this living room, weren’t you?” Her words hit like a well-aimed dart.

“Ugh.” She was right. Using the upstairs bedrooms felt like a hassle, so I ate at this living room table, did my homework here, tossed my clothes on the floor, and slept on the sofa. The living room alone was easily over twenty tatami mats in size—plenty for a high school guy to live in. Sleeping on that plush sofa was honestly pretty comfortable. If I kept this room minimally clean, it was a perfectly rational way to live, if I do say so myself.

“You’re thinking it was a rational way to live, aren’t you?” Hisaka’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“Guh!?” How sharp was she? Shouldn’t I be the one making a shocked face at this maid’s perceptiveness?

“Living alone in this mansion doesn’t mean you should treat it like a one-room apartment,” she continued, her tone firm. “Doesn’t the Kiyomiya family’s ‘tradition’ forbid such a lifestyle? Isn’t this a trial to learn how to skillfully manage servants and conduct yourself like an aristocrat in this mansion?”

“Ughh! W-Why does Hisaka care about the Kiyomiya traditions?” I stammered, caught off guard.

“Because I want the person that I pledge my loyalty to, be someone admirable.”

Hisaka stood from the sofa and stepped closer, closing the distance between us. Her legs brushed against mine as she stood between the table and me, still seated on the sofa, her presence suddenly far too near.

“Let’s start with how you address me. Sayaka, okay? I’m a maid, so call me by my first name, no honorifics.”

“No, wait, hold on. I keep telling you, you’re not a maid. Besides, if I start calling you by your name at home, I’ll slip up and do it at school too.”

“That’s perfectly fine by me. Being called by my name doesn’t cost me a thing.”

“W-Well, sure, but…”

As far as I knew, not a single student at Sōshūkan High dared to call her by her first name. Hisaka, a scholarship student and the top of our grade, carried an air of distinction that set her apart. Her unique personality, however, made her something of an enigma among our peers, a solitary figure despite her brilliance.

“I want to be your maid, Kiyomiya-kun. So, first step: Sayaka.”

“That’s your wish, not something I have any reason to—hey, you’re too close!”

Hisaka stood mere inches away, bending forward until her face hovered dangerously near mine. Sayaka Hisaka—her frame was almost impossibly delicate, yet the maid outfit she wore accentuated her… notably prominent chest. When she leaned in so abruptly, the gentle sway of her figure drew my eyes before I could stop myself.

“Kiyomiya-kun, if you’re the master of this mansion, you ought to make use of at least one maid. So, use me.”

“U-Use you? I can’t treat a person like an object!”

“I’m not asking you to treat me like an object,” she clarified. “Just… consider hiring me as your maid.”

Her hand rested lightly on my shoulder as she leaned even closer, her breath tickling my ear with a whisper.

“At school, our relationship stays a secret. But if you give me orders in private, I’ll obey you.”

“…”

Not just in the mansion, but would she follow my orders at school too? Could I, say, have her sit beside me in her gym uniform all day for no reason at all?

“…What are you thinking about?” Sayaka’s voice cut through my wandering thoughts.

“N-Nothing! I’m not the type to order people around, okay?” I stammered, heat creeping up my neck.

“Is that so?” Her eyes narrowed, a knowing glint in them. “Seems like you’ve got some secret desires tucked away, though.”

Her intuition was unnervingly sharp, like a blade grazing too close to the truth.

“But, Kiyomiya-kun, at least accept calling me by my name. Accept it. You have to accept it.”

“F-Fine, fine, I get it!” I relented, her proximity overwhelming. “Just back off a bit—S-Sayaka!”

“Understood, Master.” Sayaka’s faint smile widened in triumph as she eased back, giving me just enough space to breathe.

I exhaled heavily, my heart still racing from the encounter. That was way too intense…

“First step achieved. I, Sayaka, will absolutely become your maid.” she declared, her tone resolute.

“Where does all this passion of yours even come from?” I muttered, half-exasperated. I’d just been grumbling about the fervor of mystery detectives, but Sayaka was a far greater enigma.

Hisaka Sayaka—my classmate and self-proclaimed maid-in-training, a homeless girl with nowhere else to turn. If this maid-clad figure were cast out from the Kiyomiya family’s old manor, she’d have no roof over her head. If she wasn’t merely freeloading but genuinely striving to earn her place as a maid, her desperation began to make sense.

But did she truly have nowhere else to go? Even if she wished to stay at the Kiyomiya manor, was becoming a maid her only path?

Doubts swirled in my mind.

To put it bluntly—Sayaka was shady.