CHAPTER SIX – KONJAC AND LIQUOR

The day seemed like any other ordinary affair as lunchtime progressed, but Kirumi could feel the changes around her as she walked down the corridor, bearing the tray of food with both dutiful purpose and inward enthusiasm. The tantalizing aroma of nikujaga piled upon a small heap of rice kept wafting in her face as she went, keeping her appetite sharp for her own meal later after she had finished with her duties. Next to that was the usual pot of tea that had become a staple of theirs, along with a covered plate that bore a surprise she had brought along from the kitchens. Ryoma was already waiting, she knew, and she was looking forward to having another conversation with him about their next session at the gymnasium together and other things to come. A week had passed since that first of many steps had been taken, and though Ryoma had been understandably reluctant about it, he managed to ease himself into a more focused demeanor that soon began to show in his approach towards her, inspiring Kirumi further. But as pleasant as these developments were, it came with some interesting but nonetheless predictable consequences, particularly from their classmates.

I hope he's doing much better, Kaede had said yesterday when she and Kirumi were left behind to arrange a few things at their classroom. It's getting tricky to tell the professors why we're always one student short. If you can, could you please nudge him in the right direction? N-Not that I want you to force him to come to class, of course! It's just that . . . well, you're the only one he talks to, so maybe you can drop him a few hints and stuff?

Is Ryoma treating you well, Kirumi? Tenko had asked her one time, her eyes shining fiercely like a superhero on the lookout for any wrongdoers. I don't trust him enough to be alone with you in his room. That is a surefire degenerate male tactic if I ever saw one. Please allow me to accompany you, so that I can protect you if he makes any dirty move!

That maid outfit's really working out well for ya, eh? Miu had mocked. Didn't know you were into shorties like Bakamatsu is, though. Then again, height doesn't really matter. With a tennis player like him, he's bound to know a thing or two about playing with balls and getting all sweaty!

I trust that you already know of Ryoma's past, yes? Korekiyo had inquired, his tone having a knowing and rather menacing edge. Not that I would judge, of course. As terrible as it may be in the standards of society today, his crime evokes one of the most beautiful aspects of humanity. The sheer pain, the anguish, the rage . . . ah, I envy your chance to learn about that firsthand from the person himself.

Naturally, Kirumi spoke none of this to Ryoma during their subsequent meetings. As welcome as his progress was, she sensed how delicate of a mental and emotional state he could still be in, and it would not do to pressure him immediately by telling him of other people's thoughts about him and the time he was spending with her after showing some form of growth in their encounters and experiences together. Thus far, only Kaede's words seemed worth sharing, especially since they involved not only her responsibilities in maintaining order and inspiring participation and unity as the class representative, but also Ryoma's standing as a student. For that, Kirumi made a mental note to do what she had requested and nudge Ryoma a little into coming to class at last.

Ryoma looked almost relieved when he opened the door to her around two minutes later, patting down his head with a towel. "Perfect timing, as usual," he said. "If you arrived a bit earlier, you would've spent a bit of time waiting for me to finish taking a bath."

Kirumi smiled as she entered his room and set down the tray on the table. "You mentioned nikujaga a while back, so I figured it'd make a nice meal for you today."

"Yeah, that does sound nice," said Ryoma with a nod, draping the towel over a vacant chair.

"I brought something new over as well," Kirumi went on. "A specialty that was prepared by Teruteru from the kitchens."

With that, she uncovered the plate she had brought. Walking over to the table, Ryoma glanced at the square-shaped pastries she had unveiled. In spite of their ordinary appearance to some, Kirumi found them inviting to look at, with their powdered sugar and light drizzles of chocolate syrup, giving them a rustic feel as if they were afternoon teatime delicacies created by a caring grandmother.

"Something for dessert, eh? Are these donuts or something?" Ryoma asked.

"Beignets," Kirumi clarified, moving over to her usual spot at the table and pouring out tea for the two of them. "Or at least, that is what Teruteru referred to them as. He prepared them as something of a test, as he intends to add them as a separate option for students at mealtimes. I brought some for us, and I will be returning to him with our feedback afterwards."

"I see." Ryoma eyed the pastries for a moment. "I guess we finally have our first cheat day, then?" he asked with a hint of amusement.

"If you wish to call it that. But Teruteru assured me that these are not as decadent as other desserts out there."

"Well, it won't be a problem either way. Nothing wrong with indulging in a bit as long as you remember to burn it on your next workout."

"Ah, so you take your physique seriously like most?"

Ryoma shrugged, glancing down at his body as he sat down to eat. "Not a lot to take seriously, judging by my size and all."

"On the contrary, one's body should always be taken seriously," said Kirumi, "for one's health and wellbeing, if not one's form."

"True. I just prioritize having a healthy lifestyle, that's all. You won't see me flexing or preening in front of any mirrors, that's for sure."

Kirumi nodded, taking her seat as well. "I'm glad we are on the same wavelength, then," she said. "It is not just the physical wellbeing that counts, but also the mental focus and emotional fulfillment it brings. For that, a balanced diet and daily exercise is what's best, with discipline and commitment to temper it all."

"Exactly." Ryoma shoved a spoonful of nikujaga and rice in his mouth, nodding his silent approval as he chewed. "Problem is, there are always people who think that their looks or bodies are the only things that matter. They'll tear themselves apart to get that ideal form in their heads."

"Are these former acquaintances of yours?" asked Kirumi. "From . . . tennis?"

Though she expected him to dodge the subject somewhat, Ryoma nodded in response. "It comes with being an athlete for some, I guess. When you win games and feel on top of the world, you just wanna be the best at everything you do." He ate another spoonful of his meal, chewed, swallowed and continued. "You wanna look good, feel good, be good. But sometimes it gets to your head after a while, and you just keep reaching for that standard even if it's no longer within reach. That's usually the time that sitting back and reflecting and adjusting your priorities is called for. Keep pushing yourself, and you burn out, but some are too stubborn to realize it soon enough."

As she took a sip of tea, Kirumi listened closely. That Ryoma was speaking more openly about these kinds of things, even if it bordered more on his personal philosophies rather than his tennis-playing, it showed her more proof of his growing sense of adjustment to his new lifestyle. Kirumi could only wonder how terrible it was to be unable to speak to anyone within the confines of a jail cell, and while Ryoma was more introverted than many, she knew that he cherished the chance to talk about what he wanted to discuss, and she wanted to keep giving him that chance whenever she could. As a maid, it was one of the things that she did not experience often for herself—granted, she had no right to demand a conversation from anyone as she toiled, but she relished the chance the same way Ryoma seemed to.

"Some people live for that standard, though," she proffered in return. "It is what defines their purpose and determination. Without it, they feel less of a person in some way, as if they have failed what they had pledged to stand up for. That is why they are willing to go the extra mile and more in order to meet that standard and deliver to the best of their capabilities."

Ryoma nodded, his eyes resting upon her thoughtfully. "Is that how you live and work as the Ultimate Maid?"

Kirumi gave him a modest smile. "I try my best to keep that standard, that figurative bar in front of me at all times, so that I won't lose sight of it. I keep thinking if I try harder, I will be able to clean up faster, or serve food better, or present more articulate thoughts and advice to those who need it. That bar is always there, and I do what I can to reach it. Should I fail, however, that does not mean I will stop, or that I will dwell on criticizing myself needlessly. I will reflect on my shortcomings and address my mistakes, until the next chance comes along."

"That's a meaningful way to think about it," said Ryoma. "And that's how you ended up being perfect in your work, right?"

"I wouldn't call it 'perfect,'" said Kirumi, sitting up straighter. "In spite of the standards I set for myself, it does not mean I always reach for perfection in what I do. Though my title as an Ultimate delivers a sense of guaranteed perfection, I am anything but perfect in my work and as a person. Perfection is a subjective height that is too lofty for anyone to reach, even for us Ultimates."

"Well, can't argue with that. Gunning for perfection all the time will only end up making you do worse, especially if you're not mature enough to know your own limitations and weaknesses." At that, Ryoma regarded her with curiosity. Swallowing his food, he continued, "When it comes to those, however, it's hard to guess with someone as skilled as you."

Kirumi matched his gaze, knowing Ryoma's knack for figuring things out from a person simply by observing them and wondering what else he could see in her right now. "Again, my skills do not necessarily dispel the fact that I have weaknesses and limitations as well," she said. "I'm not an all-knowing, perfect maid machine. Like you, I am still a high-schooler, with my fair share of mistakes and messes."

"I wager that's something you don't really get to tell a lot of people," said Ryoma. "Everyone seems to know only your reputation as an expert maid."

Sipping some tea, Kirumi had to smile at that. Though Ryoma's words still made her seem like the best maid out there, it had been a far cry from that when she started, and the feelings that she had experienced then all resurfaced as she dwelt on them. How nervous she been, how calculated every move was for the tasks she undertook, how intimidating the people had been at first—all distant memories considering where she was now, but fond ones nonetheless, the kind that stayed with a person after all this time because of how profound they were.

"That may be true," she said, "but I do not keep quiet about these things to hide my shame. In fact, it is something that I would be more than willing to share, to let people know that I am no perfect worker or person." She paused for a moment, going through her experiences in silence until she remembered one of the few that stood out most to her, and she felt compelled to share it now.

"For instance, there was this one businessman I served back when I had just graduated from Milky Way. He was one of my first clients. I cannot share his name, since I am bound by the rule of confidentiality with my clients even after I leave their employ, but his name is still well-known and highly respected even today. When we started out together, he was brimming with ambition and talent, and I knew that he would become famous, so I did everything I could for him. I took care of his daily needs, and gave him advice whenever he needed it. If he was busy with other things, I would be his secretary and voice, giving orders to his employees and managing directives across his enterprise. His company steadily grew, outpacing others like it, and he became a model for those looking to be successful."

"Sounds like an ideal scenario, and an excellent start for you," said Ryoma.

"Mostly, but things didn't turn out wholly good," said Kirumi, letting out a small sigh as she recalled the experience in her head. "You see, he eventually became unable to do anything by himself."

"What do you mean?" asked Ryoma.

"I pampered him and provided for him too much, to the point where he was unable to make any decisions or take any initiatives without my help. I had thought that by helping him with any and every responsibility, I would be doing him many favors in his undertakings, but I failed to realize that I was simply coddling him without letting him maximize his potential, or even put it to use. He was reduced to a figurehead, someone who was garnering all the praise without doing most of the work, and he did not want that. He cried to me, and felt ashamed that he had relied on me too much to the point where it felt like he had betrayed the company. He wanted to grow it through his own hand as well, but the comfort and convenience of my services made him forget. And I . . . I knew that I had a hand in making that happen as well. I only thought of my own actions and standards, of my own sense of fulfillment, and I worked without consulting his thoughts or feelings."

As she finished speaking, Ryoma's gaze seemed contemplative as he took in her words. "So that's why you told me all those things before," he said after a while. "About asking me what I think, or if it feels like you're just imposing your help upon me without knowing first how I might feel about it."

"Yes," said Kirumi in reply. "That experience with my employer helped me reevaluate myself as a maid, as well as my principle of selfless devotion. From then on, I knew that if I was to help any of my future employers, I would make sure to do my duties for their growth and success instead of my own standards and fulfillment. I vowed to never make the same mistake twice."

"And I'm sure it never happened again," Ryoma added.

"Yes," said Kirumi. "Although . . . there is one other weakness I have yet to conquer."

Ryoma raised his eyebrows. "Really? That sounds like a big one if you're unable to curb it. What is it?"

Kirumi shifted slightly in her seat, feeling a twinge of shame creeping up her back as she remembered. She set her cup down and cleared her throat for a moment.

"K-Konjac," she muttered.

Ryoma frowned. "What?"

"Konjac," Kirumi repeated. "I cannot cut konjac. . ."

As she spoke, the mental image of a konjac corm flitted past her mind's eye, eliciting a sigh from her. She remembered the first time she had encountered it during her culinary training, when they were tasked to prepare either a meal or a dessert with the ingredients they were given as their instructors graded them based on their working time and resulting effort. While some would find the image of a gelatinous grey block dotted with black spots rather ordinary, Kirumi knew she would never live down the mental block that it had given her, sitting there on the chopping board before her waiting to be cut and sliced. It was as if the block itself was enchanted by some unseen force, shutting out any thought in her head.

Almost unbidden, she remembered her instructor's mild surprise at her hesitation then, as she stood beside her while she stared dumbfounded at the konjac slab, her kitchen knife trembling in her hand.

Ms. Tojo, what is it? Is there a problem?

Ah, n-nothing's wrong, ma'am. I'm just . . . thinking.

But try as she might, Kirumi found no earthly idea as to how she could properly prepare the vegetable, turning in what would become her lone meager effort during her vocational years at Milky Way Academy; going by the konjac's slightly salty taste, she had decided to cut it into very simple strips and stir-fry it in a soy-based sauce with the other vegetables she had been given. A safe and fair dish, to be sure, though it was also a far cry from the top-quality viands she had made before. Though she garnered high marks for her work, the experience haunted her all throughout her subsequent experiences whenever she stumbled across recipes that featured the infamous ingredient and its other variations, which included konjac noodles and its original, yam-like form.

"You might have encountered konjac before, but it is something I never learned to use properly in any of my dishes," she continued with an air of shame. "I never really figured out the most satisfactory way to cut it and prepare it as a meal, and it haunts me to this day."

As she finished speaking, she looked upon Ryoma fleetingly, taking in a deep breath as she let her shame hang in the air like a veil between them. Ryoma, on the other hand, still had that same thoughtful frown on his face.

At last, he spoke up. "I . . . didn't know you had a weakness like that."

Kirumi managed to give him a shamefaced smile. "It's rather asinine, isn't it? That with all the experience and skill that so many people see in me, I cannot cut a simple vegetable regardless of its form."

"No, no. It's fine, there's nothing wrong with that," said Ryoma. "It's actually pretty understandable. Surprising, but understandable."

"Perhaps for you, it is. But as a maid whose duties involve cooking, it can be rather embarrassing. . ." said Kirumi.

"But doesn't that prove your own words correct? That in spite of your skills, you're still just a high-schooler who's learning and growing?" asked Ryoma. "There's nothing wrong with having a weakness like that. We all have one, no matter how trivial it can be for each and every one of us. It's up to you to learn how to beat them eventually. That's how it was for me, at least in . . ."

He paused for a moment, his features growing heavy. But with a small sigh, he held his head up. "That's how it was in tennis," he finished silently. "That's where I found my weakness."

Surprised, Kirumi sat up straighter. She took note of his willingness to mention tennis again, though it was this sudden admission that piqued her curiosity a bit more. Then again, Ryoma's gaze could mean anything, and for some reason she immediately thought of Isabella, the girl he had talked about a few times before.

"And what is the weakness of the famed Ryoma Hoshi, then?" she asked instead with an air of amusement, intending to aid a bit of levity to the conversation with her manner of asking. Thankfully, Ryoma took it as such as he chuckled softly.

"Alcohol," he replied.

Kirumi paused for a moment, surprised. In spite of her guess missing its mark completely, she felt her curiosity rise even more nonetheless. "Liquor, you mean?"

"Yeah," said Ryoma. "I learned how bad it was the hard way with my old tennis mates."

As Kirumi listened, a mental image of Ryoma being drunk flitted across her mind, and she felt the corners of her lips crinkle in a fleeting smile. "That must have been quite an experience," she said, pretending to scratch the corner of her mouth to hide her expression.

"Definitely," replied Ryoma. "It's just one of those times when you can't help but act like hyperactive teenagers. The thing is, back when we were training or competing, the guys would always bring some drinks to unwind and have a bit of fun. After one of our training sessions, a few of them decided that it was time to level up and snuck in an entire crate full of them at the training center, mixing them together into these weird cocktails with fruit juices or something. Typical high school stuff that a bunch of guys would do. Anyway, our coaches were still in the building, and we were all still underage, so to avoid suspicion and to stop anyone from tattling, they said it was vegetable juice."

He grunted, shaking his head. "One whiff from the glasses and you'll know it was anything but vegetable juice. Anyway, it was my first time drinking, and I managed to down four full glasses before I started stumbling around. Everyone else began laughing and calling me lightweight and stuff, but with how drunk I got, I didn't even care. My stomach was just churning like crazy, and my head felt like it weighed a ton. After that, it just got worse. It's like dying in some way, to be honest. How I managed to leave the training center and go back to my apartment without collapsing or vomiting my guts out, I'll never know. Couldn't come in the next day, not without trying to endure the feeling of having your head being split in two and your throat being parched as hell."

He laughed a little more at that, and at that Kirumi could no longer hide her smile at his surprisingly candid demeanor. Their mirth was a silent one, not as lively as some would expect it, but she felt its warmth all the same, and once again she appreciated Ryoma's openness with her as well as his effort to distract her from her embarrassment by narrating a story of his own.

"So yeah, don't feel too bad if you have some sort of weakness that seems trivial," Ryoma went on. "You'll learn to beat it eventually, though in my case I doubt I'll ever get around to drinking again."

"Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to enjoy a lighter drink when the time comes," said Kirumi. "Red wine is always a good vintage for comfort drinking, alone or with someone."

Ryoma grunted through a mouthful of rice. "You sound like someone who's a bit partial with red wine."

Kirumi let out a soft laugh. "Just something I picked up from some of my former employers. They'd give me gifts in the form of food and wine sometimes. That's how I learned to like red wine."

"It does suit you," said Ryoma. "With your formal air and all."

"Perhaps in the future, we can share a bottle or two, if you'll have it," Kirumi proffered lightly.

Ryoma chuckled. "We'll see."

Teruteru's "beignets" tasted like the pleasant surprise they were, even after the pot of tea had been emptied and Ryoma had finished eating his nikujaga. The pastries were both light and decadent, with just the right amount of sweetness to entice another bite from them. All of them had fillings of various flavors, such as strawberry and blueberry, though Kirumi remembered Teruteru calling them "fraise" and "myrtille," no doubt to accentuate their formal appearance and making. Nevertheless, she found herself enjoying them, and even Ryoma gave an approving nod as he tasted one for himself.

"That was a nice way to wrap things up," he commented once they had finished the plate. "Though in your case, wouldn't it be weird for you to eat your dessert before your actual meal?"

"It is no problem," said Kirumi modestly as she began piling up the used dishware in preparation for her trip back to the kitchens. "The beignets would keep me filled for a little while longer before I eat lunch."

"But those beignets aren't always at hand every day," said Ryoma.

"Well, it cannot be helped. And given the number of Ultimates who require my services around here during mealtimes, it just takes getting used to," replied Kirumi. She glanced at Ryoma, who looked serious now, and she added hastily, "Again, it's not much of a problem. I do eat in the end. That's what's important."

"Maybe, but . . ." Ryoma shook his head, sighing. "I don't want you getting too hungry just because you have to wait on me first. That's why I . . ."

But instead of continuing, his words faltered somewhat. As she finished arranging the dishes on her tray, Kirumi looked up. "Yes?"

Ryoma hesitated visibly for a moment, looking away. His sudden nervousness began tugging at Kirumi's curiosity even further, but instead of continuing, he stood up and walked over to the nearby dresser, opening it and taking out a large brown paper bag. In complete silence, with the sound of his chains rattling against the floor as he walked, he moved over to Kirumi and handed her the paper bag with both hands, as if it was an offering of some sort. Kirumi took the bag from him, feeling even more surprised and curious now, and peeked inside.

To her surprise, there were small packs of pastries and teabags inside. Oolong tea and wheat biscuits, ginger tea and vanilla cupcakes, chamomile tea and chocolate cookies, the mixtures were varied as well. It was not exactly the kind of fare that one would go for with the presence of the school's cafeteria and the filling meals they have there, but Kirumi liked them all the same, especially the tea.

"Just something I bought from the convenience store," Ryoma spoke up. Kirumi glanced back at him and saw that he was still avoiding her gaze for some reason. "If you don't mind, I took the liberty of choosing for you since I didn't know what you'd like and all. . ."

Closing the paper bag, Kirumi clutched at it with her gloved hands. "Ryoma, I . . . You didn't have to get me this," she said.

Ryoma waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "It's fine. You've been doing a lot for me, more than you'll ever know, and this is the least I can do to express my gratitude for that."

"But you do know that—"

"That your duties don't require people to give you anything in return. I know that. But trust me; with all the help you've been giving me, you really deserve a gift. And I wish I could give you more, to be honest. The food might not be up to par."

"No, this is . . . this is just fine." Again, Kirumi glanced down at the paper bag before letting her gaze return to Ryoma. It was not that she did not like the gift; on the contrary, a feeling of warmth tugged at her chest, putting her at a loss for words. It was not the first time she had received something from the people she had helped and served before, but given how Ryoma had little to give compared to her former, richer employers and yet he still took it upon himself to buy her something for her help, she could not find the right way to express her appreciation.

"Thank you, Ryoma," she managed to say, bowing her head in modest gratitude.

"You're welcome," Ryoma grunted back, busying himself with a candy cigarette from his pocket. When he dared to look back at her, their eyes met briefly for a moment, and he smiled a little in spite of his continuing discomfiture. Kirumi returned his smile earnestly, basking in the warmth that grew within her. That Ryoma was taking small steps made her happy enough, but the fact that he was taking them alongside her, always inviting her in as a friend and not just as a mere helper, was something more. And the more stories they shared, the more she imagined glimpsing more of who he used to be.

When she was about to leave, however, she remembered Kaede's concerns from their previous encounter. She hesitated before leaving, wondering how best to go about it now that she recalled what else she needed to do. Granted, the growing cordiality between her and Ryoma was pleasant, but she wondered if it could be derailed by a wayward word if she was not careful in expressing Kaede's wishes.

Noticing that she had fallen silent, Ryoma asked, "What's wrong?"

Kirumi sighed, placing her hands neatly atop her lap. "I've been meaning to tell you," she replied. "I spoke to Kaede again. She was . . . concerned about you."

Ryoma's expression was difficult to decipher now, even as his gaze seemed plain in Kirumi's eyes. Taking the candy cigarette from his lips, he muttered, "This is about my continuing absence in class, isn't it?"

Sitting up straighter, Kirumi nodded. Ryoma heaved a sigh at that.

"I've been thinking about it too," he said quietly. "And to be honest, I'm wondering why no one's come to my room yet demanding to know why I'm not attending any classes. I wouldn't be surprised if someone from the ethics committee like Kiyotaka burst through my door out of nowhere bearing a notice of my expulsion."

"Absences do not necessarily merit expulsion," Kirumi assured him, worrying that his seriousness now indicated that his spirits were deflating. Still, there was no choice but to press on now that the topic was at hand. "Ultimates are not strictly required to go to class, provided they put their talent to use outside of it, right? I mean, in our own class, Rantaro and Korekiyo take a few days off to venture abroad, as their talents require."

"But I'm not exactly in any shape, physical or mental, to play any tennis," declared Ryoma.

"Yes, but you are keeping yourself in good physical condition with me through our exercise sessions at the gymnasium," Kirumi countered. "That counts for something, I am sure. Besides, not all athletes across the school are able to put their talents to frequent use. Tenko merely trains in the dojo with Sakura, while Aoi goes for swimming sessions only a few times every month. They are not competing in any sort of competition. You would be no different from them, whether you play tennis or not. What Kaede is asking is that . . . if you could start coming to class more, while also exercising after classes with me, it would reflect on your record that you are making the most out of your time here as an Ultimate along with the rest of us, and it would help put her mind at rest as our class representative."

Ryoma sighed, looking out the windows of his room. The faint rays of sunshine that seeped in cast shadows on his youthful face, making him look a lot older than he was. Kirumi waited patiently for his reply, not wanting to impose any direct, compelling order to persuade him. If push came to shove, she would simply have to find a way to explain his delicate situation more with their professors.

At last, Ryoma spoke up again. "I'll think about it. It'd be downright disrespectful for me to put you or Kaede or anyone else in trouble just because I'm absent all the time. I just need a bit more time to condition myself for it, I guess."

"I understand," said Kirumi. "I shall talk to Kaede as well and inform her of your thoughts. For what it's worth, though . . . I do hope that you will join us in class soon, Ryoma. Not just for the lessons and all, but for the sense of unity and kinship that it brings. You don't have to be a pariah any longer. In here, with us, you are welcome and accepted."

Ryoma looked down, his gaze heavy. "I'll keep that in mind, thanks."

Knowing that there were no more words to say about the matter for now, Kirumi bowed and stood up, picking up her tray of used dishes with one hand and clutching at the paper bag of food Ryoma had given her with the other.

"Again, thank you for this," she told him, indicating the paper bag. "And thank you as well for your company and time."

Ryoma grunted with amusement as he leaned back against his chair. "You're welcome, but truth be told, I'm the one who should be thanking you for that. Just make sure you eat on time after this, alright? I'll just rest for a bit. Need to get my thoughts in place."

"I will, thank you. Do take care," said Kirumi, privately wishing that she had not just caused some form of turmoil for him. With a final bow, she took her leave and made her way out of his room.

The next morning, around fifteen minutes before their first class, Class 80-A felt the same as ever with their usual interactions and antics. From where she stood next to her seat close to the windows, giving her a full view of the class in silence, Kirumi kept worrying about how her visit yesterday had ended. Immediately, she had told Kaede about Ryoma's willingness to mull on things a little more, and like her Kaede took the news as an indication that Ryoma was starting to change his mind. Still, if Ryoma's absence at breakfast earlier was any indication, Kirumi sensed that she may have caused more trouble for him than she had wanted. Privately, she reprimanded herself, not for the first time since yesterday, about being unable to approach him in the best way possible about it.

Seemingly noticing her inner conflict, Kaede approached her. "Kirumi? Are you okay?" she asked her.

"Yes, I am," said Kirumi, bowing. "Forgive me. I was just thinking about something. . ."

Kaede looked at her rather worriedly. "It's Ryoma, isn't it?"

Kirumi straightened up with a small, earnest sigh. "Yes. I fear that I might have made him overthink yesterday when I relayed your message to him."

"I see." Kaede sighed as well, shaking her head. "Don't worry too much about it, Kirumi. It's partly my fault, since I asked you to talk to him."

"No, it still falls under how I approached him yesterday," said Kirumi. "I know that I could have gone about it better, but with how our conversation went at first, and how he seemed to be at ease, I . . . didn't want to ruin that for him." And as she spoke these words, Kirumi remembered the story she had told Ryoma, about how she had promised to never disregard the feelings of the person she was helping. She feared now that she might have committed the same mistake twice by not acknowledging the full possible extent of her approach before breaking the notion to him.

In spite of herself and Kirumi's worry, Kaede smiled at her, as if to change tack and distract from the impending heaviness. "As reserved as Ryoma is, it's nice to see that you two are getting along better as the weeks pass."

Kirumi looked at her earnestly. "Do you think so?"

"Yep! It's easy to see with how comfortable and at ease you were when you came from your last visit to him." Kaede's smile grew wider, making her eyes twinkle. "That's how I sensed that if anyone could talk to Ryoma freely and get him to listen, it's you. And to see you two doing nicely together, it's pretty heartwarming."

Kirumi nodded. "Be that as it may, please do not think of it in any other way," she reminded Kaede. "I am simply doing what I can to help Ryoma get back on his feet. Not merely as the Ultimate Maid, but as his friend as well."

"Uh-huh, right," said Kaede with a wink. "That's where it all starts."

Kirumi smiled modestly. "I take it that's how it started for you and Shuichi?"

In an instant, Kaede's cheeks turned pink, and her smile faded as it gave way to sudden embarrassment. "H-Hey, it's not like that, okay?" she stammered. "I'm just . . . d-doing what you're doing with Ryoma, helping him become better as a detective and as a student, that's all!"

As she blurted out these words, she cast a nervous glance at Shuichi, who was being cornered into another pep talk session with Kaito and Maki at one corner of the classroom, his hat draped over his eyes in an attempt to hide his nervousness. Kirumi smiled again, amused. As excellent as Kaede was in being a leader and a student, Kirumi knew that her friendship and growing closeness with Shuichi was something that she could never hide from her and the others even if her life depended on it.

"Don't worry, there's nothing wrong with that," she told Kaede, taking the sting out of the predicament she put her in. "With your friendship and help, I'm sure Shuichi will learn to be more assertive and confident in his abilities."

Her cheeks still flushed, Kaede glanced back at her. "Y-Yeah, I hope so," she managed to say in return, smiling back.

At that moment, the door of their classroom opened, drawing everyone's attention for a moment. Kirumi and Kaede both straightened up, expecting to see their first professor for the morning coming in, but the sudden hush that fell upon the room made the two of them glance at the door.

Ryoma looked the same as ever in his leather jacket, prison bottoms and pointy-eared beanie. He looked around the room as he stood in the doorway, his round eyes half-lidded with a mixture of seriousness and resignation. Everyone else inside the classroom could only stare at him in silence for a few moments, as if digesting the fact that, at long last, Ryoma Hoshi had joined their morning classes officially for the first time. From where she stood, Kirumi felt surprise course through her like a small jolt of electricity.

Kaede was the first to break the silence. "R-Ryoma!" she exclaimed, the shock on her face now replaced with relief and elation as she hurried towards him.

Ryoma took the candy cigarette from his lips. "I'm not late, am I?" he asked.

"Late? No," said Kokichi from where he sat on the teacher's desk, twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Lost? Maybe."

"No, you're definitely at the right place," said Kaede, shooting a glare at Kokichi before rounding on Ryoma again. "It . . . It's good to see you joining us this morning."

Ryoma nodded, his gaze sweeping through the room again in silence as he walked inside. Slowly, his spell was broken on Class 80-A, but even as Miu jeered at him for making such a dramatic entrance and Gonta vocally expressed his joy at his arrival, as Angie praised Atua for guiding him back to them and Tenko acknowledged him with a leer and some grudging words of welcome, he simply strode to his seat at the back of the room. Kirumi watched him go, trying to decipher in her mind how Ryoma could have come to the decision to finally join them in class, but there seemed to be little point in guessing, as she knew that she would find out from him eventually anyway.

As if he felt her gaze upon her, Ryoma over to where she stood, their gazes locking briefly for a moment. He nodded at her, and Kirumi found herself smiling in return. The hoots and laughter now resounded louder throughout the classroom as some of their classmates took note of this brief interaction, no doubt fueling the rumors that some of them were starting to harbor at their hinted companionship, but those rumors would simply have to stand for the moment. For Kirumi, the sole thing that mattered right now was the biggest step Ryoma had taken thus far.

A/N: Major oof for the month-long delay on updating. I was juggling between two chapters, one for this and one for my DDLC fanfic, and things just slowed down a whole lot when I got writer's block for a week. Thankfully, I managed to write the rest of it rather smoothly as soon as I bounced back. I hope it's worth the wait for you guys. Take care, and stay safe!