Kirumi had always had a sharp eye for tiny details which could betray someone's condition through the simplest things. Having been raised as the ultimate maid, the perfect servant for royalty and bourgeoisie alike, she was no stranger to having to take care of the sick and wounded inside prestigious manors and battlefields where the grass had turned red. Nothing would stop her from her assigned missions: protect the people she served, no matter the cost to her or to the rest of the world.

The Earth never stopped, for Kirumi. Never was her glaze not looking around, careful to her surroundings, studying every bit of the people around her and around her masters. No hitman nor robber could pass through her unless they attempted something on her life. An iron defence to the enemy, a warm force for her masters and allies. She served good, she served what she thought was right, she had no question to ask herself about the morality or consequences of her actions as long as she was doing what she was told and what she knew she had to do.

Well, that was how she used to see herself as: a multi-functional weapon, ranging from a vacuum cleaner to the sharpest of knives slitting an enemy's throat. However, even since she had joined Hope's Peak Academy as the Ultimate Maid, her perspective on the world and the people around her had joined. There no longer were masters: her last family had freed her so she could continue her studies as normally as possible after she had become their maid during her middle school years. Without a person to obey, she felt lost for the first time in her life, until her classmates approached her and befriended her.

They were of a colourful diversity: from the piano prodigy and class representative Kaede to the shy but always polite Shuichi, not to forget the loud and unforgettable "Luminary of the Stars" Kaito or his almost-girlfriend Maki, everyone was memorable and mostly friendly to her (even Ryoma, once she had brought up the fact he had cat hair on his clothes, and that brought on a sweet conversation on cats). However, she had her views (or so that was what she thought the other girls her age said about that kind of feelings) on someone in particular for the first time of her life.

She didn't remember the first conversation she had had with Gonta. It was probably about bugs or gentleman-related affairs, knowing him. Most likely the second, considering that was their very first common interest: he wanted to learn how to be a gentleman, she wanted to share with someone her knowledge of grand families without seeming like she was trying to paint herself as one of them or even as prestigious as her former employers. They simply ended up benefiting from each other intellectually, at first.

After a couple weeks, she found herself talking with him more and more, about various topics. If something she thought could interest him came to her mind, she'd tell him, and the conversation would then continue from there. It was that way that she had discovered some of his hidden centres of interest like botany and that she told someone for the first time or so about her own likings lurking in the shadows such as collecting stamps and looking into learning other languages than Japanese and English (she wasn't half-bad at Russian and French, due to having worked for nobility before).

In definition, they were close, very close. Most of her time in school was spent with him or near him, they'd always have a little thing to tell each other, a little thing to be excited about before or between classes. She had simply not realized it very early on and probably that he didn't either: they were too entangled into their own feelings and wanting to spend time with the other to realize what had apparently become obvious to everyone around them.

Maybe that was why everyone thought she was excessive when she saw her closest friend fall sick.

To be frank with them, it was just a small cold. It'd just show up in their conversations, Gonta would sniff out, apologize and lightly blow his nose like she had taught him. It was spring, sure, but he didn't have hay fever. She still, at first, tried not to think much of it: sometimes people just sneezed, and it was all fine. A previous employer's daughter had told her that years ago and, since then, she hadn't forgotten like everything she had ever been told by the persons she had worked for and under.

Like the overly polite man he was, he'd always apologize for every single symptom that'd slip into their discussions, to the point that Kirumi had to one day act upon it and do something to protect him from the mean forces of nature's worst aspects. It was always about small things, small beginning, but it'd usually get far worse than that; so she'd prevent it.

As a gentleman, he didn't dare tell her no when she forcefully took his hand and brought him to his room. "You're sick, you're supposed to rest," was an explanation enough, right? She felt like she was perhaps a bit too forceful and obstinate, but remembering the face of the gravely sick would have almost made her stop dead in her tracks. She simply… didn't want this to happen to him, never, ever, as long as she could do something about it. She wasn't the Ultimate Maid for nothing, she hadn't served all these people to see her closest companion fall ill.

"Ki… Kirumi, please, can… Can I know why I need to stay here?" he asked her right as she closed the door between them.

"It is for your own good, I am afraid. The sick must rest before their conditions inevitably worsen from exposure to other pathogens."

She sighed in a rare moment of vulnerability.

"I simply do not want to see this happen to you."

Gonta seemed moved, rather than upset or frustrated like an outdoor-loving person like him would have given her the feeling to be prone to doing.

"Ah… I see! Would you make that easier on you if I stayed here until I (he coughed in his elbow instead of the cotton handkerchief she had given him for his birthday, the one she had insisted on him to use, something he had until then systematically refused to do despite her insistence…) am full recovered? Even if it's something so small, I mean…"

So he had listened to her suggestions? Ah… She felt flustered now.

"It is for you, not for me, but if it can get you to rest… Then it's fine. Very much so, in fact."

She looked away, face heating up, hiding her profile shot behind the back of her hand as if that was going to help with anything. She needed to pull herself together…

"Okay then! (He sneezed again. The loud noise would have otherwise perhaps made her skin crawl from the bacteria that must have sent flying across the room, but she didn't mind). Let's do that…"

Kirumi didn't know where to stand or what to say, now. She had managed to accomplish her goals and make her orders a success, sure, but her heart was about to explode against her ribcage, her legs felt floppy for lack of a better term and her hands were trembling, palms getting damped against the fabric of her trusty gloves.

"I'm… going to make you some tea, it'll make your throat and nose feel easier. I'll… be right back," she slipped almost in a whisper as she left the room, a spare of the key in her pocket (to be fair, Gonta did allow her to use it).

She made her way out of the room and onto the kitchen, just as she had said, even if the beating of her heart didn't stop there. Making the water boil, she thought of all the little things she needed to take care of: not have the water too hot. Fruit tea, not black tea, to make it easier to swallow and more effective. Perhaps a touch of honey? Ah, she must have had one of his jars on her, she had only allowed herself to use the honey from his beehives ever since he had introduced her to his yellow-and-black friends…

(She was a firm believer that this honey was better than anything HPA could provide them with anyway. It had passion, devotion and love put into it, the perfect side ingredients to any good product. She knew that: she had applied this for years.)

Once the water was done heating up and that the cup had been poured (she made sure to leave the water there in case someone wanted to drink their own cup of tea: as far as she knew, Ryoma, Shuichi and Kaede all often enjoyed sipping on some, it felt only natural to not throw it away if someone else could have needed it), the maid waited. Waited for what, she wasn't exactly sure: the water to cool down or her heart to slow down? She couldn't present herself to him like that, not when she was this flustered and untranquil with herself.

Even with this in mind, a question raised in her head: would Gonta really care about that? He cared about his own appearance as a gentleman, of course, but he had never judged anyone based on appearance. He had made sure not to, in fact, as he deemed it unworthy of a gentleman like he strived to be. It was more for herself, she thought. People want to look their best in front of the person who matters the most to them, right?

Oh God, there was something starting to sound very weird and wrong with her. Maybe she was coming down with something too.

Before her mind trapped itself in its own streams, Kirumi pulled herself together, picked up her tray after making sure the water wasn't too hot (it was a bit warm to her taste, but it'd probably get better as she went to his room). Despite the raging beating taking place in her chest, she still knocked with one hand and excused herself before entering (for a moment, she wondered if she shouldn't have asked permission or waited for him to give it to her before doing so, but the deed was done).

Once she set foot into the bedroom, she was downright surprised to see that he was already asleep, having had the time to change back into some more comfortable clothes it seemed. Afraid to disturb the serenity suddenly possessing the room, a slight smile on her face as she saw him sleep so peacefully, she put the tray on the nightstand, topping it with the saucer, and left like a ghost.

The perfect maid knew how to make herself visible or invisible upon command or depending on the situation, but this time was different. Back against the wall of the room, she was still confused, but her feelings would have to wait.

If she had no master to serve, she still had partners to help.