The gentle clink of cutlery and the soft chatter of nearby tables filled the cozy interior of the maid café. Warm light filtered through the lace curtains, bouncing off pastel-painted walls and the frilly uniforms of the maids moving with practiced grace. A faint melody played in the background, a sweet, nostalgic tune that almost felt like it belonged in a slice-of-life anime. Amid this quaint, lively setting, Kokoro and Sakura quietly enjoyed their meal—well, somewhat quietly.
Kokoro took a sip of his melon soda and leaned back slightly, his expression turning more thoughtful than usual. He set his glass down and looked across the table at Sakura, who was busy cutting her fluffy omurice, the ketchup drawing of a heart already half-ruined.
