Laughing was fine, but it had to be controlled—otherwise, Akira feared that Yuuko might drag him outside and beat him to death.
So, before she made any actual moves, Akira suppressed his laughter, got up, and opened a window.
Since Yuuko was likely questioning the meaning of life at this point, some ventilation was necessary—even if the air conditioner was still running.
Best to let things cool down a bit for now. They could talk more over dinner.
Watanuki Kimihiro still didn't understand what was going on. He felt like no matter what he did, it was wrong, and he sat on pins and needles.
So when Akira returned after opening the window, Watanuki quickly said, "Mr. Ogiwara, let me help Miss Aoyama in the kitchen."
"No need. She'd just kick you out anyway." Akira waved a finger. "I'll go take a look. You stay here."
Yes, it was time to let Watanuki breathe as well. He'd done so well, yet had somehow become the example of what not to do.
That was just too cruel for the kid.
As for whether he would get scolded by Miss Yuuko after Akira left—well, that was none of Akira's concern.
In fact, a little scolding now might be good for him. Otherwise, if he went home still clueless, he'd be in for even worse later—both in terms of wrath and unreasonable demands.
With that thought, Akira headed to the kitchen.
Sure enough, the moment he left, Miss Yuuko opened her mouth with that lifeless expression. "Watanuki."
Watanuki immediately sat upright. "Ah! Yes, Miss Yuuko?"
Yuuko exhaled a long trail of smoke and pointed toward the kitchen with her pipe.
"Watch that little Aoyama carefully today. When we get back, put on a steward's outfit and match her performance exactly."
"That's asking too much, Miss Yuuko! There's no way I can do that!"
Upon hearing this refusal, Yuuko abandoned her usual grace and instantly puffed up like a sulky little girl who couldn't get the toy she wanted.
She curled up on the sofa and threw a dramatic tantrum.
"Why not! Can you really bear to see me get bullied by Akira-kun like this?"
"Eh? Mr. Ogiwara bullied you? When?"
"He did! He nearly made me cry! Waaah—No! You have to wear a maid outfit too!"
"That's way too extreme!"
…
Leaving aside Miss Yuuko's bout of willful mischief, Akira leaned against the wall as he entered the kitchen and heard some faint commotion from the living room.
His shoulders shook slightly again.
Nanami, who was busy with food prep, turned around and looked at him with concern.
She had heard Akira's unexpected outburst of laughter earlier. Before that moment, she couldn't have imagined he could laugh like that.
To her, Akira had always been a composed, calm, and transcendent figure.
His laugh had certainly shattered that image, and it wasn't exactly dignified—but strangely, she didn't feel disappointed.
In fact, she was genuinely happy. Happier than if something good had happened to her personally.
Now, seeing Akira enter the kitchen still visibly suppressing laughter, she couldn't help but smile sweetly.
It went against what Hayasaka Ai had taught her, but after blending that advice with what she'd learned from Akira himself, she had managed to find her own ideal image of a maid—and didn't feel there was anything wrong with that.
"Do you need something, Mr. Ogiwara?" she asked.
Akira followed her voice, raising an eyebrow in surprise.
While it wasn't unusual for Nanami in her normal state to smile like that, it was strikingly different from her usual maid demeanor.
The contrast made her momentary smile breathtakingly beautiful.
"No, no, carry on. I just needed a place to hide for a bit," Akira said, clearing his throat. "If I don't hide, I'm afraid I'll get hit."
Once again, the idea of Akira being afraid of getting hit was something Nanami hadn't imagined before.
She returned to her work but didn't ignore him. Chatting lightly, she said, "I didn't expect you to be this happy, Mr. Ogiwara."
Honestly, he hadn't expected it either. As he walked over to the counter to admire the beautifully arranged cold dishes, he said,
"When you're with a true friend, some things stop mattering. Like your image. Besides, I really am happy today."
"What made you so happy?"
"Well… in a sense, Miss Yuuko and I both live lives like lonely old people. But last time, she suddenly invited me to dinner and made a big show of how great her life is now. I was jealous."
"Hmm? So today…"
"Yes. Thanks to your outstanding performance, I've washed away that jealousy and shame—and sent it back with interest. Want a reward?"
When she heard that, Nanami's first reaction wasn't to decline.
Hayasaka Ai had taught her that a servant should never reject a master's reward.
Instead, she should accept it with gratitude, respond with firmer loyalty, and work even harder.
So, when the topic of a reward came up, what sprang to her mind was… that time she had been so deeply moved.
That's right—it was the time she'd pretended to sleep in front of the teacher, letting Akira carry her back to her room.
Of course, that was during an illness, when her fever had left her dazed.
Her physical weakness had lowered her emotional defenses just after she'd suffered a major blow—but also found inspiration.
It had all come together to allow that brief moment of vulnerability.
But now, in her normal state—no, in even better shape than normal—there was no way she could ask for something like that.
Noticing her sudden silence, Akira walked over and found that although Nanami's expression was normal, her cheeks were red and her movements… slightly stiff.
That wouldn't matter under normal circumstances, but she was in the middle of cooking.
"Careful, you'll burn yourself," Akira warned gently.
Nanami snapped back to attention. Though her face was still flushed, her hands moved more fluidly.
"There's a lot of oil smoke in the kitchen. Please wait outside for now, Mr. Ogiwara," she said with a blank expression.
"The cold dishes and some hot dishes are ready—we could start the meal now if you prefer."
Ah. In other words, he should either go wait outside or go start dinner.
He'd just been kicked out by the maid.
Akira obediently headed for the door. After all, even kings needed to eat. And the one who controlled the food, in a way, controlled the world.
But just as he reached the doorway, he turned and asked, "So… what do you want as your reward?"
Nanami hesitated. "Let me… think about it a bit more."
"Is it that you want to be pampered?"
The ladle in Nanami's hand slipped, bounced off the edge of the pot, then clattered onto the stove with a series of crisp metallic sounds.
"Alright, I get it." Akira waved as he stepped out of the kitchen.
Nanami glanced back to confirm he had truly left.
Then she covered her entire face with both hands, chanting silently in her mind: Remain unshaken by honor or disgrace.
It was the mantra Hayasaka Ai had instilled in her through psychological reinforcement.
Then she realized—
She couldn't do it at all!
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