"Wow, she's got a point, Shuichi," Kogoro Mouri said, his face lighting up with enthusiasm. "Maid outfits would be awesome!"
"Awesome, my foot," Shuichi Hayashi shot back, rolling his eyes. "This is an izakaya, not a maid café. Our customers come to drink. Swap the uniforms for maid outfits, and every drunk in here will be harassing her."
"Er… yeah, fair point," Kogoro muttered, deflating with a sigh.
"It doesn't have to be a maid outfit, but this is just ugly," Yukiko Fujimine said, holding up the work uniform and inspecting it with a grimace, clearly reluctant to put it on.
The izakaya's uniform was a standard, old-school white chef's outfit—long-sleeved top and apron. Shuichi, as head chef, also sported a chef's hat. Seeing Yukiko's disdain, he relaxed slightly. If she refused to wear it, maybe it'd save him from Eri's wrath tomorrow.
Just then, he noticed the seasoning on the counter running low. Turning to Kogoro, he said, "I'm heading to the corner store for more spices. Keep an eye on the stove and turn off the heat when the water boils."
"Got it," Kogoro nodded.
"And watch her," Shuichi added under his breath, nodding toward Yukiko. "She's way more trouble than Eri."
"No worries," Kogoro said, thumping his chest. "I've got this."
The supermarket was less than two hundred meters from the Mouri family's building. Shuichi grabbed the spices and was back in under ten minutes.
But when he stepped into the izakaya, he froze. Yukiko was behind the counter, wearing the work uniform, fishing boiled eggs out of a pot with a slotted spoon.
"Let me handle that," Shuichi said, setting down his bag and reaching for the spoon. Something felt off. He turned, giving Yukiko a closer look. "Wait… did you alter the uniform?"
Yukiko spun around with a smug grin. "Pretty, right?"
"You cut it up?" Shuichi's mouth twitched. "Kogoro! What the hell happened?"
Kogoro hurried over, scratching his head. "Uh, after you left, Fujimine-san asked for scissors. I didn't think much of it and handed them over…"
"And you just stood there while she hacked up Eri's uniform?" Shuichi demanded.
"I didn't realize what she was doing until it was too late!" Kogoro said with a nervous laugh. "By the time I noticed, she'd already cut it."
"It looks way better now, doesn't it?" Yukiko asked, tilting her head innocently. "You don't like it?"
"It's not about liking it," Shuichi said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I told you—that's Eri's uniform. She hates people touching her stuff. You not only took her job for the night but ruined her uniform too."
"Relax, I was careful," Yukiko said, waving off his concern. "Glasses-girl can still wear it. It's a huge improvement, isn't it?"
She wasn't wrong. The baggy long sleeves had been tailored to hug her figure, and the apron, once past the knees, was now shorter and more fitted. Yukiko had even added a butterfly bow to the apron pocket, giving the outfit a cute flair.
"That bow's from your hat, isn't it?" Shuichi asked, eyeing it.
"Yup," Yukiko said, pouting. "I sacrificed my hat to make this work, and you're still mad at me?"
"I was gone for ten minutes," Shuichi said, incredulous. "How did you pull this off? The kitchen has scissors, but no needle and thread."
"Who needs thread?" Yukiko said, smirking. "To make clothes fitted, you just trim a bit and use some clips."
Her words jogged a memory from Shuichi's past life. Online shopping ads always showed models in perfectly fitted clothes, but the real thing often arrived baggy. After working a few fashion-related cases, he'd learned the trick: models' outfits were pinned or clipped in the back to look tailored, since photos only captured the front.
Yukiko had used the same technique, and her skill was impressive. The clips were so well-hidden that Shuichi could barely spot them unless he stared.
"You're a genius at this," Shuichi admitted, shaking his head.
"All thanks to my mom," Yukiko said with a grin. "When costumes don't fit on set, she's a pro at fixing them."
"It's honestly way better now," Kogoro chimed in.
"Save that for when you're explaining yourself to Eri," Shuichi said, shooting his friend a glare. Kogoro's "reliable" supervision had clearly failed.
"Don't be such a grump," Yukiko said, waving her hand. "I'll apologize to glasses-girl myself tomorrow if it's a big deal."
Yukiko's revamped uniform was undeniably a hit—cute and stylish. That night, customers couldn't stop stealing glances at her. Her natural beauty helped, of course. While Eri was pretty too, her lack of interest in fashion put her a step behind Yukiko's effortless charm.
Whether it was the weekend crowd or Yukiko occasionally stepping outside in the uniform to draw in customers, the izakaya was packed. Shuichi barely had a moment to breathe, constantly churning out dishes.
Around nine, a red-nosed, balding old man staggered in. Spotting Yukiko, he grinned. "Well, well, a new poster girl for the shop?"
"Just filling in for the night," Shuichi clarified, wiping down the counter. "Same as usual, Mr. Fujimori?"
"Yup," the old man said, settling at the counter. "Out of all Tokyo's eateries, only your tamagoyaki hits the spot."
"Glad you enjoy it," Shuichi said with a smile.
Mr. Fujimori was a regular, showing up every night since the izakaya opened, always ordering the same tamagoyaki.
(End of Chapter)