"This calculated kindness is so cunning—it moves people!" (in Russian)
"…What did Kujou-san just say?"
"I said that sweets can really improve your mood."
"I see."
"So naive." (in Russian)
Yukima Azuma almost replied in fluent Russian on instinct.
His language proficiency was Level 6—definitely not to be underestimated.
To be honest, his pronunciation might even outclass that of Alya herself, the famed silver-haired beauty.
But he held back.
It would be more amusing to pretend ignorance and surprise her later.
"Yukima! Get over here already, your suit's ready!"
A voice rang out across the classroom.
"You're really treating me like a dress-up doll!" Yukima shouted back.
Kunimi Yuuma waved a hand with all the smugness in the world, and Yukima Azuma grudgingly walked over.
Alya looked up from where she was seated, her gaze landing on the black uniforms being distributed.
Class 1-E's school festival theme was a butler café—
In other words, the reverse of the usual maid café trope.
It wasn't hard to guess why this plan had passed the class vote.
The main reason had black hair, a sharp jawline, and a Level 6 language score.
More importantly… Yukima Azuma had been absent the day the vote took place.
"You guys should act like normal humans! Who approves something like this when I'm not around!?"
"Minority obeys the majority!" Eriri declared smugly.
She clearly just wanted to see Yukima Azuma in a butler outfit.
"Azuma-san, our Class 1-E runs on democratic principles," Kato Megumi added with a smile that was somehow scarier than a glare.
"Even you, Megumi?!"
Yukima Azuma felt utterly betrayed as he held up the outfit with an expression of exhausted resignation.
Still, he tried it on.
Laughter echoed around the classroom, and Alya covered her mouth, chuckling softly.
The stress she'd been carrying felt just a bit lighter now.
For today, losing didn't feel so bad.
Next time, she would win.
A Dream Too Long Delayed
The school festival—Shuka-sai.
A cornerstone of Japanese high school life, typically spanning three days.
For most students, it was a season of excitement and vitality.
But not everyone saw it that way.
"School festival… huh."
Gotoh Hitori stood alone before the colorful festival banner.
Her expression was a blend of sorrow and longing.
Since middle school, she had dreamed of one thing—
Performing at a school festival.
That dream had led her to pick up the guitar.
She wanted to stand on stage, strumming under bright lights, her music echoing across the gym.
To be the one everyone turned to watch, even if just once.
But three years had passed.
And she had never signed up.
She always chickened out.
She had performed at STARRY twice now with Kessoku Band, but…
The venue was small.
No classmates. No one she really knew.
It was easier that way.
But the school festival?
The audience would include her entire class. Her teachers. Her peers.
Just imagining their eyes on her made her stomach twist.
Once again, she turned away from the school grounds, ready to give up—again.
Next time.
She always told herself that.
Next year, next festival…
She had said the same thing in middle school.
But just as she stepped past the school gates, her phone vibrated.
It was the Kessoku Band group chat on LINE.
They must be talking about the festival, right?
She opened the chat. What she saw left her frozen in place.
Azuma: [Her school dream is to perform at the festival. So let's help her achieve that. In exchange, I'll help get Kessoku Band some commercial gigs.]
Kita: [Huh? Really!? Yukima-san, you don't have to pay us. We'll help no matter what!]
Nijika: [That's right! Bocchi-chan's dream is our dream too!]
Ryo: [Yukima, just be our manager already. It'll make earning easier.]
Nijika: [Ryo! Be serious!]
Bocchi: [HUH!? Huhhh!?]
Nijika: [Bocchi-chan's online! Bocchi, go sign up! We'll perform together!]
Kita: [Let's bring Kessoku Band to the school stage! We're all in!]
Ryo: [Gambare, Gambare.]
Gotoh Hitori's hands trembled as she stared at her screen.
Why was Yukima in their chat group!?
Wait, no—how did he even know this was her dream!?
"Is it… telepathy!?" she whispered, flustered beyond words.
And without waiting for her input, they were already planning song choices.
Her long-shelved dream suddenly seemed close enough to touch.
Fingers trembling, Bocchi opened a private chat with Yukima Azuma.
She typed, deleted, retyped, hesitated—
Then finally hit send.
Bocchi: [Azuma-kun… someone like me, can I really perform on stage?]
Azuma: [What are you saying, Bocchi? Aren't you a 'guitar hero'?]
Bocchi: [But I'm scared. I freeze. I can't even open my eyes on stage.]
Azuma: [It's okay.]
Bocchi: [But Azuma-kun…]
Azuma: [When you step on that stage, you'll find yourself again. I'll be busy, but I'll make time to cheer for you.]
Bocchi: […I'll try my best!]
Just reading those words made Gotoh Hitori clench her fists.
This time, she would do it.
Not just for her dream—but to play for him.
Butlers, Maids, and Mischief
Friday—festival opening day.
"Hey, do you guys even understand what youth is supposed to be?"
Yukima Azuma said with a deadly serious face, though laughter threatened to crack through.
He was dressed in a sharply tailored black tuxedo that hugged his figure perfectly.
Underneath, he wore his Toyogasaki uniform shirt. His hair was slicked back with gel, exuding a polished, aristocratic air.
If this were a shoujo manga, Yukima Azuma would have been the final boss heartthrob.
From preteens to housewives, none would leave unscathed.
If he ever became a host, his monthly sales might hit a billion yen.
Before him stood two troublesome classmates—Kunimi Yuuma and Sato Kazuma—dressed head-to-toe in maid uniforms.
These two jokers were the masterminds who manipulated the class vote in Yukima's absence.
They'd wanted to force him into the butler role, and now it was payback time.
So Yukima stood there, arms folded, gazing at them with mock solemnity.
"What the hell is 'youth' supposed to mean, Yukima!?" Kazuma shouted.
"You're not even human at this point!"
"You're so handsome it's unfair! Why shouldn't you use your looks!?"
"Honestly, you'd look better in a maid outfit than I do!" Kazuma added bitterly.
Ironically, Kazuma—with his delicate features and slim build—wore the maid uniform way too well.
It almost looked natural.
"Here, Kazuma. Consider this your compensation."
Yukima casually tossed him a pineapple bun and pointed teasingly at his padded chest.
Kazuma lunged to tackle him in retaliation—but Yukima caught him like a prince catching a fainting heroine.
"Winner takes all, loser takes the fall," Yukima said coolly.
Meanwhile, Kunimi Yuuma stood tall, undeterred.
As captain of the basketball team, his muscular build made the frilly maid dress look absurdly hilarious—but strangely majestic.
"At least act like you have shame!" Kazuma shouted.
"I was born to make history!" Kunimi declared.
A long line of students and visitors had already formed outside the classroom door.
Seeing them, Kazuma's soul left his body.
"Physical death is one thing… but this is social death!"
And thus, the school festival began—with maid Kazuma, butler Azuma, and dreams both bold and quiet taking center stage.