Frankenstein strolled down the aisle, his blue eyed gaze flickering over the shelves before him. Picking up a small pack of hotpads, he frowned thoughtfully. Feeling the fabric, he grimaced and placed them back on the metal shelf before moving further down the cramped aisle.

Seira followed him diligently behind, her red-eyed gaze observing everything. She came to a stop when he did, observing him as he examined the aprons in a neatly folded pile. When it was clear to her that he was not moving further down the aisle, she turned her attention to the fascinating cooking utensils.

Seira cleared her throat, unsure if she should break the silence between her and Frankenstein. On the one hand, she could tell that he was deep in thought, and she did not want to interrupt him. He was frowning, his brow furrowed as his sharp gaze observed all around him. He appeared to be looking for something, and if he was searching for something, the she could help him if she knew what to look for.

Deciding to be the first one to speak, Seira cleared her throat once more. "Sir," she started. "What are you looking for?" She was expecting Frankenstein to snap his gaze at her, as if he would be startled by the sound of her voice shattering his concentration.

But Frankenstein only shook his head, sighing. "The boys have been staining their shirts lately during their chores, and it has been quite a hassle for me to get the stubborn spots out of their clothing."

At that, Seira nodded in understanding. She could see where Frankenstein was coming from. Both M21 and Takeo had taken up the duty of washing the dishes. Needless to say, some of the food spots had splattered their clothing. As Seira helped around the house and sometimes did the laundry, she had already experienced the horrors of food stains and grease splatters.

She fingered a small piece of cloth from a hotpad. "Maybe they should wear a protective covering," she started. She brightened up. "Like a servant's uniform." Plenty of Lukedonia servants had uniforms with their family crest on it. They wore it with pride as they worked on their mundane tasks.

Frankenstein nodded in agreement. "That is what I am looking for."

Seira moved down the aisle, determined in her search. "They should have a specific style," she said.

Frankenstein raised an eyebrow, glancing at her curiously. "Style?"

She nodded. "A style that reminds them of their station and the chore they perform in life. No matter how mundane it is, they perform their chore with pride as a member of Sir Raizel's household. If they wear their uniforms, they will be reminded of the important task they have taken on, and all who see them will know what station they uphold." She straightened up. "They will recall the honor of serving the Noblesse, and caring for the household."

When Seira turned to look at Frankenstein, she saw him smiling. She froze, unsure if she should take a step back. Was that glint in his eye a sign of his scheming? Or was it a trick of the poor lighting in the store?

"I couldn't agree with you more, Miss Seira."

A chill went down her spine.

"And I think that the uniform should stand out," Frankenstein said as he selected the neatly folded aprons. Seira's eyes widened as she took in the bright color, her dread increasing. Frankenstein's smile, though small, held deviousness. "Oh, look, matching rubber gloves." He sighed. "The boys will be so happy."

Her eyes fluttered closed. "M21, Takeo," she prayed. "I am so sorry."

M21 and Takeo stared at the aprons and rubber gloves before them, the bright pink colors nearly blinding them. Tao stood off to the side, chuckling.

"Pink?" Takeo sputtered. "Why pink?"

M21 groaned, dread building up. "Did we do something to upset the Boss again?" That would surely explain this punishment. If anything, this was just further proof that their Boss was the Devil.

"It's pink!" Takeo continued, horrified. "Of all the colors, why pink?" It wasn't that he had anything against the color. It just...it tampered down on his manliness!

That, and Tao was already taking plenty of pictures for blackmail. Even the gloves were the same shade of pink! How had Frankenstein managed to do that?

"I guess we have no choice." M21 sighed, resigning himself to his fate as he slipped on the apron. Takeo watched him, open mouthed. "Oh M," Takeo groaned helplessly. "No!"

"Oh M yes!" Tao cackle with glee as he snapped several photos. "Now Takeo, put yours on!"

"But it's pink!"