The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe, 1/3
Title: The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sakurai Sho/Matsumoto Jun
Summary: In between jobs, Sho agrees to help out at the cafe where his friend works. But his friend fails to mention that he will be expected to do a lot more than just wait tables.
Notes/Warnings: This one’s fluffy, silly, and mostly drama-free. The Arashi Sweets Club was very inspirational!
“Look for the castle,” Nino had said.
Sho, of course, thought that his friend had been joking. Nino was a joking sort of person. But on this rare occasion, he’d been absolutely accurate.
Sakurai Sho found himself standing before a storefront in a bustling area not far from Ikebukuro Station. But this was no ordinary storefront. Instead of simple plate-glass, maybe a logo, the entire front wall gave the appearance of weathered gray stone. The front door was painted to resemble a sturdy iron gate. But despite those overtly imposing design choices, the cafe’s name was elegantly written out in English script on the door.
The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe
He shook his head, still not quite believing he’d ended up in this situation. But it was better than nothing, and he took a deep breath for courage, marching up to the door and pulling it open. Given its appearance, Sho used a little more force than necessary, almost stumbling back when the door opened quite easily.
It was even more remarkable on the inside. The interior walls were painted to resemble the same gray stone on the outside and the corners of the cafe had thick columns that reached the ceiling, each of them painted gray as well and meant to resemble a castle’s turrets. The attention and care that had gone into the cafe’s design was admirable, he thought.
The cafe’s waiting area was on a lower level, carpeted in green to resemble an open field and ringed with wooden benches for waiting guests. The host stand was another small castle turret. Standing behind it was a tall, slim man with a friendly face and dyed brown hair. Sho tried not to laugh at how proud he looked standing there, dressed in a costume that was dominated by a bold green jacket adorned with yellow fleurs-de-lis. He wore it over a blue waistcoat and silky blue cravat. His tight tan trousers were tucked into a pair of knee-high brown boots, and a thin sword hung suspended from a belt around his waist.
The man’s smile was almost as bright as his jacket. “You must be Sakurai-san!”
Sho inclined his head politely. “Sakurai Sho, nice to meet you.”
“Ninomi said you’d be right on time.” The man broke the illusion of his character, pulling his phone from the pocket of his trousers, nodding. “Exactly 10 AM.”
The man stepped forward, shoving his phone back in his pocket and holding out his hand for Sho to shake. “Aiba Masaki, although around here you can call me…” He jumped back suddenly, getting into a fighting stance and pulling his sword free from his belt. He waved it around with an elaborate flourish before pointing it at Sho. “…Prince Masaki!”
Sho gulped in surprise. It wasn’t every day someone pointed a prop sword at him. Sho looked a bit closer. Correction. Not a prop sword.
“That’s a real rapier, isn’t it?”
Aiba-san nodded, settling it back by his side. “All the weaponry here is real, for authenticity’s sake, but we cap the ends if a guest is involved in any way. Anyhow, Ninomi will be here soon to help with your costume. In the mean time, let me give you the grand tour.”
Sho, now feeling quite underdressed in his wool coat, sweater, and jeans, followed Aiba away from the customer waiting area. Opposite the host stand was a pair of two changing stalls with heavy floor-length curtains. Aiba explained that the “Princesses” were allowed to change into costumes they’d brought from home or utilize items management stored here to customize their look. Tiaras and crowns, capes, long skirts made of tulle or cheap fabric.
Leaving the lower level, they climbed up a thick wooden ramp that resembled a drawbridge, with two iron chains connected to the ramp attached to hooks on the restaurant ceiling. Beneath the ramp the green carpet ended and a strip of blue began, serving as the “moat” around the castle proper. Once up the ramp, they were in the main cafe area. Tables with taut white tablecloths ringed the room, which was meant to resemble the castle’s courtyard. The tables sat on gray carpet with a stone-like design.
In the center of the room was the gray tiled “arena,” Aiba explained. Here was where the Princes performed, whatever that meant. Aiba explained things in such a nonchalant way that Sho had to keep asking him to repeat himself.
“I’m sorry, what do you mean by ‘the routine’?” Sho asked nervously.
Aiba stopped in the middle of the arena, posing proudly with his hands on his hips. “Ninomi didn’t tell you about the routine?”
Nino hadn’t told him much at all, come to think of it…
Aiba smiled, shaking his head. “He’s such a jerk! Anyhow.” Aiba stomped on the floor with his boot emphatically. “We sing the Happy Fairy Princess song, all of us, at the top of the hour. There’s a dance with it, but it’s really easy.”
Sho froze, the color draining from his face.
“What exactly did Nino tell you?”
-
It had been three months since Sho’s company had been bought out by the large Chinese conglomerate and two months since Sho had been informed that his employment was being terminated. Accounting wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world, but for more than 10 years it had paid the bills. He’d been good at his job, rising to middle management level with responsibilities for a handful of accounts. But experience and good work didn’t always guarantee permanence.
He had only two more months of severance pay due to him, but his job hunt had so far been unsuccessful, even though he’d had a few interviews. Most companies in the area were looking to hire lower-paid entry-level positions. Someone like Sho with so many years of experience had fewer paths available unless he was willing to take a considerable pay cut. And he was very unwilling. He’d worked too hard to not get paid what he was truly worth.
It was likely that more job openings would start popping up soon come springtime, but for now he kept striking out. He’d apparently been fated to bump into an old high school friend while waiting in line at a coffee shop to buy himself a pity donut.
His kohai, Ninomiya Kazunari, had claimed that he had the perfect opportunity to help Sho out. The price for the information? “You’re gonna have to buy me a donut today, senpai,” Nino had said with that familiar twinkle in his eye. Very little had changed about Nino since high school, including his powerful ability to make people want to take care of him, even though he was now 33 and a grown man.
But Sho, who was already starting to make changes to his monthly household budget, had obliged and bought the donut. He’d sat and listened as Nino explained that he worked as a server for a themed cafe, The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe, where he wore a costume and served sugary desserts to Princesses of all ages. It was similar to the butler and muscle man cafes that had popped up in Tokyo of late, but this one was designed to make any girl or woman feel like a princess for a day.
It just so happened that one of the “Princes” on the cafe roster, Prince Toma, had just had an emergency appendectomy two days earlier. Though he’d be coming home from the hospital soon, he was definitely advised against any vigorous activity for the next few weeks and was not supposed to be on his feet if he didn’t have to be.
So there was a temporary opening at the cafe that would let Sho bring in some money while he kept up his job hunt. The cafe was open six days a week for limited lunch and dinner service hours, closed on Mondays. The schedule would be flexible for a job seeker, since they didn’t open until noon each day, leaving Sho’s mornings free. Sho had waited tables for extra money during college. Of course that had been almost fifteen years ago, but he supposed it would be easy enough to get back into the swing of things.
“You don’t have a problem wearing a costume, do you?” Nino had asked.
“Depends on the costume.”
Nino had laughed. “Well, you get a sword to go with it.”
He and Nino had been in the kendo club in high school, so Sho let that guide his decision. Waiting tables in a costume? Addressing customers as “Your Highness”? That seemed easy enough. When Sho asked if he might be a little old to be a “Prince,” Nino assured him that they had staff of all ages and that the Princesses were the ones to choose who they wanted as their server since they could make a reservation online if they wished.
“You’re good-looking, Sho-san, I don’t think you’ll go un-picked,” Nino teased him.
When he finished his donut, Nino had called up Ohno-san, the cafe’s owner, saying he had a replacement for Prince Toma all ready to go. The owner hadn’t even found it necessary to talk to Sho. Apparently Nino’s approval was good enough.
“Come by tomorrow,” Nino said. “We’ll welcome you to our kingdom.”
-
So no, Nino really hadn’t told Sho everything that was expected of him. Serving food, Sho was good with that. Dressing up, Sho supposed he was fine with that. But Aiba was looking at him now with a nervous smile on his face.
“Every cafe has a gimmick these days,” Aiba explained slowly. “And ours is that we’re Princes.”
“Right.” Sho wasn’t a complete idiot.
“There’s more to it than just bringing a slice of cake to a table. There’s singing and dancing, like I just told you. And then of course, the action scenes…”
Sho raised an eyebrow. “Action scenes?”
The lights flickered and a noisy growl emitted from speakers that were cleverly hidden in each corner of the cafe. Sho jumped when the swinging rear doors he assumed led to the kitchen moved and a green…thing popped out of them.
“Rawr!” shouted the green thing as it prowled among the tables, coming out to the “arena” floor. “Rawrrrrrrrr!”
At that, Aiba smiled, gesturing for Sho to move out of the way. He did so in a hurry because already Aiba was drawing his sword. Instead of the friendly and cheerful man who’d been giving Sho a tour, Sho was now witnessing the arrival of the brave Prince Masaki. He held his sword aloft, pointing it at the green thing.
Now that the lights had stopped flickering, Sho had a better idea of what he was looking at. It was a human in a dragon costume. The costume’s head was elaborately designed with a gaping maw full of pointy teeth. Being human, the dragon was upright, holding out his green arms, the costume’s paws ending in equally pointy claws. The body of the costume seemed to be cloth but covered in dark metal scales that had likely been stitched onto it along with a pair of black wings. A long green tail trailed out from the seat of the costume, brushing along the floor as the dragon moved side to side around the arena, still growling.
What the hell was going on?
“You think I fear you?” Prince Masaki bragged, ready to swing his sword. “Begone from my kingdom, dragon!”
“Rawr!”
He listened a bit closer this time. For some reason, the dragon sounded almost…familiar. But Sho jumped back even more, bumping into one of the tables that ringed the arena floor when the action scene began. To add to the drama, some orchestral “battle music” came screaming out of the speakers.
In what seemed to be a tightly choreographed sequence, Sho watched as Prince Masaki and the dragon circled one another. Every few moments Prince Masaki would lunge forward with a swing of his very much real rapier and the dragon would lean away. And then the dragon would counter, roaring again and lashing out with his claws. Eventually the dragon turned, tail whipping around, and Prince Masaki brought his sword down where the tail met the dragon’s ass. To Sho’s surprise, it fell right off.
The dragon howled, picking the tail up in his arms and cradling it while Prince Masaki let out an overly exaggerated laugh.
“It seems I have defeated you, dragon! And if I ever see you here again, I’ll slice off your head next!”
The dragon lowered his head, almost looking sad. And that was when Aiba put his sword back, bowing to Sho with a flourish.
“And scene!” Aiba cheered.
Sho stood there, still confused, at least until the dragon set down his sliced off tail and instead moved his clawed paws to his head, tugging the thing off. Hair mussed and a little sweaty but otherwise smiling, Ninomiya Kazunari greeted Sho in a friendly voice, a far cry from his dragon noises.
“You made it!”
Sho said nothing.
Nino tucked the dragon head under his arm, cocking his head. “Sho-san, you alright?”
Sho held up a hand, just to gather his thoughts. Meanwhile, Aiba stepped across the arena floor, lifting up the dragon tail. Nino moved a little so that Aiba could latch it back on to him. Apparently Aiba’s strike was helped along, perhaps a switch inside Nino’s green clawed paw that detached the tail at the climax of the battle.
“Nino, when you said that I get a sword to go with my costume…” He saw Nino’s smile grow even bigger. “…maybe it would have been helpful to tell me that I’d actually be expected to use it.”
“The Princesses always laugh when I cut the tail off,” Aiba said needlessly, making sure the tail was back in its proper place.
“It’s only a few weeks, Sho-san, we’ll keep the choreography really easy for you. You won’t have to fight Stormy right away.”
“Stormy?” Sho wondered.
“That’s me, of course!” Nino bragged, wiggling his tail. He looked far less menacing than he had when he’d come into the room. “Stormy the Dragon, The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe’s best villain! Whom I proudly play six days a week.”
“You’re not a Prince?” Sho asked.
Aiba ruffled Nino’s messy hair. “That’s the Sunday storyline, actually! On Sundays, it’s revealed that Stormy is actually a Prince under a dark curse and a group of us teams up to free him from it. That’s when Prince Kazunari shows up.”
“The best looking Prince in the kingdom, you might say,” Nino said.
Aiba laughed, elbowing him. “Yeah right.”
“You’re saying I have to fight?” Sho squeaked out. “And sing and dance and…”
“We’ll teach you,” Nino assured him.
But Sho didn’t really want to fight. He didn’t want to act. He certainly didn’t know how to dance. He didn’t want to do anything but wait tables and have a bit more money to save as a cushion while he looked for permanent work. He really wished Nino had been more upfront about this whole business, because now Sho was probably going to inconvenience them when he backed out and…
The swinging doors moved again, and in walked a short man with a very calm expression, wearing chef’s whites. “Ah, this must be Sakurai-san?”
Before Sho could complain any further, he was introduced to his temporary boss, Ohno Satoshi, the cafe’s owner and head chef. He didn’t dress up as a Prince, choosing instead to manage the cafe’s kitchen where the cakes and cookies and other sweets were made.
“We really appreciate you stepping in to help while Toma-kun is resting,” Ohno said, unable to read Sho’s discomfort levels. He was soft-spoken but firm, telling Nino and Aiba to go get Sho’s costume ready while he continued the tour.
Before Sho could say thanks but no thanks, Ohno-san was leading him through the swinging doors and into the rear of the cafe. The castle illusion disappeared. Directly past the doors was an archway that led to a staircase up to the second floor of the cafe. Ohno explained that there was a staff locker room up there to change into costume, an employee lounge, and the special effects room where music, sound, and lighting for the arena was managed.
Instead of going upstairs, Ohno led him into the kitchen here on the ground floor, introducing him to a handful of friendly men and women who were kneading dough and adding sprinkles to batter. The kitchen smelled absolutely divine, a mixture of sweet sugar and rich chocolate that made Sho’s stomach growl. He didn’t have the sweetest sweet tooth, but this place was truly dangerous.
Ohno showed him to a touchscreen panel where he could input the Princess’ order. Unlike Sho’s previous job waiting tables with a notepad and pen, the Princes were expected to memorize orders and input them in here away from the castle courtyard to keep up the fantasy of the devoted Prince tending to his Princess’ every whim.
“There’s a lot of customization on our menu,” Ohno explained, tapping through the options on the screen. “We’ve got thirty-four ice cream flavors, eight kinds of gelato, the various cakes, brownies, cheesecakes, cookies, and then there’s our topping bar that Shimizu-san manages.” Ohno gestured to a cheerful young woman who was slicing strawberries behind an elaborate counter. “Strawberries, several other types of fruit, nuts, chocolate chips, all that good stuff. We’ve got five flavors of whipped cream that we make in-house.”
There was a milkshake section of the menu as well with names like Magical Mint or Double Royal Chocolate Chunk. Those could be customized just as much, and already Sho’s head was spinning with the complexity of the menu. It would be difficult enough to take one Princess’ order…but he’d also have to memorize the orders of a table full of them. While the tables in the dining room had mostly been tables for two, there’d been a few booths that could definitely seat four. Sho imagined trying to memorize custom orders for four women while also being expected to sing and dance and sword fight and…
“Sakurai-san,” Ohno said gently, tugging him back into the corridor and away from the sound of noisy mixers and knives chopping. “Don’t be nervous, we’ll all help you out. We really appreciate you coming to fill in for our missing Prince.”
“I…I don’t know what Ninomiya-san told you, but I’ve never done anything like this before. I mean, I waited tables fifteen years ago but…”
Ohno lifted his hands, which had a bit of flour on them. When his hands pressed against Sho’s cheeks, he saw a little puff of white appear in the air around them. He blinked, staring down at his new boss.
“You’re going to be apprenticed to our number one requested Prince. With Toma out of action, he’s agreed to take on a heavier workload to get you trained. He’s the best, and he’ll get you up to speed. So please don’t worry,” Ohno explained. “Nino wouldn’t have brought you here if he knew you couldn’t do it.”
“I was…” Sho shook his head, Ohno’s hands still touching his face, smushing his cheeks together. “I am an accountant. I’m an accountant in between jobs. I’m a thirty-five year old salaryman, for goodness sake. I don’t sing. And I only dance at weddings when I’m drunk…”
“You have a very handsome face, Sakurai-san, and that already gives you an advantage. Customers are very forgiving of men with handsome faces, I’ve found.” Ohno finally let him go, grinning. “Also, you can eat for free.”
Sho could smell a fresh batch of brownies coming out of the oven, the heavenly scent wafting into the corridor. He imagined spending the next few weeks trying every item on the menu, free of charge.
“Well…” Sho admitted, ignoring his logical side in favor of his rumbling tummy. He’d skipped breakfast today. “I’ll…I’ll do my best.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ohno said. “The doors open to our guests at noon. Now. Let’s see how good you look with a sword.”
-
Nino and Aiba were waiting for him at the top of the steps, eagerness on both of their faces.
“He told you that you can eat for free, didn’t he?” Nino teased, gesturing for Sho to follow them down the upstairs hall.
“I’ve tried everything,” Aiba explained. “At least twice. I have a spreadsheet on my phone to keep track of all my ice cream and topping combos.”
Nino patted Aiba’s shoulder. “This guy is every dentist’s dream,” he said. “Prince Masaki is what you might call a sweets addict. How many cavities did you have at your last check-up?”
“Irrelevant. I have great teeth.” He really did, Sho thought. Very…princely of him. “But it’s the calories that are the real danger. Which is why it’s good that I get to exercise on the job,” he pointed out, giving Nino a poke in his dragon-costumed arm. “I sweat the calories away!”
Sho was led into the locker room. There were cubby holes for each employee to keep their personal items, each of them marked with a piece of masking tape that had their name. There was a rack for coats, and Aiba held out a hanger so Sho could take his off and hang it. Then there was another rack full of outrageous costumes.
He told Nino his size, and soon Nino and Aiba were pulling items off of the rack that were currently not being used by any of the other Princes. It seemed like all of the outfits were Western in design, similar to the outfits a character might wear at Tokyo Disneyland rather than anything Japanese-style. Sho frowned at the heap of clothes they handed to him, and he frowned again when he wasn’t given much privacy. He stripped down to his boxers and socks to tug on his new princely persona.
There was a long-sleeved black shirt and a gray sleeveless tunic to wear over it that fell to just below his ass. Then there was a rather form-fitting pair of brown slacks, closer to leggings than actual trousers. Aiba found him a pair of black boots to wear that came to just under his knees. Nino attacked him next, pulling a black belt with a gold buckle around his waist and over his tunic.
They tugged him over to the full-length mirror on the wall near the cubby holes. Sho cringed at the sight of himself. He had Nino in the flashy dragon costume to his right, Aiba in his bright green jacket to his left. “I think I come from a very poor kingdom,” Sho mumbled.
“Oh, I know!” Aiba exclaimed, rushing over to a set of plastic tubs that contained even more items. Hats and helmets, even chainmail. Aiba tugged out something red, flinging it into Nino’s hands and unearthing a long red piece of fabric. The fabric turned out to be a rather obnoxious cape, which Aiba pulled around Sho’s shoulders and clasped together with a gaudy gold brooch. Nino plopped the other red item right on Sho’s head. A red cap with a pointed end almost like a bird’s beak. It had a bright purple feather jutting out of it.
They turned him back to the mirror and now Sho was regretting having complained about the blandness of his costume. Because now he was wearing a cape. And a pointy hat.
“Red suits you,” Aiba said.
“And the hat distracts from how sharply angled your shoulders are,” Nino added, making Sho roll his eyes.
“Prince Sho!” Aiba cheered, and he and Nino both clapped.
He felt a little tougher when Aiba clipped something to the belt around his waist, hanging a leather scabbard from it. The added weight was surprising, and Sho eased the sword out from inside it, grasping it by its gold-colored hilt. Aiba tapped on the blade with his finger. It wasn’t steel, but it was still a hefty metal.
“It’s fake,” Aiba explained, grinning. “Prop sword. Since you won’t have to fight today, but you’ll still look brave.”
Thank god, Sho thought. He sheathed it back in the scabbard. He had to admit that even if the hat and cape were a bit much, it felt pretty cool to have a sword at his side. He turned a little, absorbing his new appearance, watching the cape flutter through the air as he moved. Well, at least he didn’t have to have a dragon tail trailing on the floor after him and…
“Lose the hat.”
Sho stopped moving at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He turned around to find another man standing in the doorway, leaning against it and looking far from impressed.
Now this, Sho realized, this was a “Prince.”
He was a little taller than Sho, about the same height as Prince Masaki. But where Aiba was lanky and sparkling like a prince at court, this new person was broad-shouldered and battle-ready, looking like he might mount his horse at any moment to lead a charge. While Sho knew that his red cape and tunic and leggings were just a silly costume, this guy inhabited his outfit like it was his normal everyday wear.
He wore a dark long-sleeved indigo-colored shirt made of soft leather that accentuated his wide shoulders and stretched tightly around his upper arms. The low v-neck shirt was laced up in the middle of his broad chest, a thin white cotton shirt just peeking out underneath. He was wearing tight brown trousers tucked into knee-high black boots. A black leather sword belt hung around his waist, a sword with a silver hilt sheathed at his side.
And then there was his face. His hair was dark and shaggy, some of it seductively falling across his brow. His eyebrows were thick, his eyes big and striking much like the rest of his features. His pouty mouth completed the ridiculously aristocratic look he was sporting. This was a man who stood out in a crowd.
Sho meekly took the pointy hat off of his head, holding it nervously in his hands.
Sensing the odd change in the air, it was Prince Masaki who immediately set about calming things down. “Well, it’s about time you got here,” he chided the newcomer, marching over and poking him right in his leather-clad shoulder.
“How’s Toma doing?” Nino asked.
And all at once the stoic, too cool facade faded a little, the man entering the room properly, hand balanced on the pommel of his sword. “Oh I just got off the phone with him, he’s getting discharged tomorrow. He said the flowers we sent him were really cheesy. What a jerk.”
Sho blinked at the sudden change in demeanor.
“Sakurai Sho, let me introduce you to the Happy Fairy Princess Cafe’s number one requested Prince,” Nino said. “This is Prince Jun.”
Prince Jun held out a hand, and Sho shifted his dumb hat to his other hand so he could shake. The man’s grip was firm, solid, and Sho wasn’t sure if he was turned on right now or utterly petrified. Because while “Prince Jun” was quite possibly the most alluring creature Sho had seen in his entire life, he remembered what Ohno-san had said downstairs.
That the person he’d be apprenticing with here at the cafe was the number one requested Prince. And here he was in all his leathery glory.
“Matsumoto Jun,” the guy said, still looking at Sho a bit dubiously. “Thanks for filling in.”
“I…I like your costume,” Sho stuttered out.
“Thanks. I had it custom-made.”
No wonder it fit him so perfectly, Sho thought, eyes drifting to the laces on the front of his shirt, imagining Matsumoto’s fingers tightening them. Or loosening them.
Aiba wrapped a friendly arm around Matsumoto’s shoulders. “You see, that’s why he’s the top star around here. He’s very dedicated to his job.”
Matsumoto rolled his eyes.
“No, it’s true,” Nino insisted, moving over to stand on Matsumoto’s other side, tail dragging along the tile. Together he and Aiba crowded Matsumoto more than he probably liked. “Let’s see. Jun-kun here has a custom outfit.”
“Custom outfit,” Aiba echoed.
“Custom sword.”
“Custom sword,” Aiba said, tugging on the hilt of Jun’s sword to reveal a gleaming blade. Unlike Aiba’s thin, elegant rapier, Matsumoto was toting a broadsword the same as the one at Sho’s waist. Except his was real.
“And,” Nino said, “he’s the one who runs the show.”
Matsumoto looked uncomfortable, his ears turning pink. “I…I don’t do it myself…”
“No,” Nino agreed, “but Jun-kun designed all the lighting we use. He selected the music playlist. He hired Muro-san, who works in the special effects room. He writes our scripts…”
“I suggest scenarios,” Matsumoto protested, “it’s not the same thing…”
“And he’s the one who organized all our stage combat classes,” Nino bragged. “He’s a real superstar, this guy.”
“Nino, what happened to you being the best looking Prince in the kingdom, huh?” Aiba joked.
“Well, I still am. Jun-kun’s not stealing that title from this gorgeous face any time soon,” Nino insisted.
Matsumoto gestured to Sho. “Come on, let’s get you away from these two idiots.”
Aiba’s hand immediately went to his sword belt in mock challenge. “How dare you, sir!”
Matsumoto’s laughter was rather light considering how serious he seemed otherwise. Sho stumbled forward, throwing the red hat back in the direction of the costume tubs to follow Matsumoto Jun out of the room. He could hear Nino and Aiba’s laughter following them.
Matsumoto stopped them in the hall, the cool look returning to his strong features. “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, do you?”
Sho gulped a bit in surprise. “I…I really thought I was just coming here to wait tables. Nino didn’t exactly…”
Matsumoto sighed. “Look, this gig may be temporary for you, but it means a lot to the customers who come here. They come looking for an escape. And sugar. But mostly an escape. So for today, I want you to shadow me. Don’t improvise. Just observe. Get a sense for what is expected of you.”
“Okay.”
“What’s your specialty?”
“My what?”
Matsumoto grew impatient. “What are you good at? Like especially good? Our photos are on the cafe website and we list our special talents there too. Some Princesses are just looking for a face they like, others expect a little more. My special talent is push-ups.”
Oh god, Sho thought, imagining Matsumoto on the floor doing just that, even dressed in his leather get-up.
“Prince Masaki’s is arm wrestling. Nino’s usually a dragon so he’s not often called upon to show off, but he can do card tricks. So what about you, Prince Sho? What can you do?”
Sho swallowed, seeing the intense look Matsumoto was giving him. If he wasn’t on the clock, ready to start his new job as Prince Jun’s shadow, he’d probably melt to the floor under the strength of that look. “I’m…an accountant.”
“That’s not a special skill,” Matsumoto pointed out. “That’s a job.”
“Okay,” Sho agreed. “Then…math, I guess.”
“Math,” Matsumoto repeated, stepping closer until Sho’s back hit the wall, his scabbard scraping against it. “You think some woman’s going to walk in here and ask you to do long division?”
Sho frowned. “I can play the piano?”
“We don’t have a piano,” Matsumoto replied, his voice deepening in irritation.
Why couldn’t Ohno have assigned him to work with Nino? Or Aiba? Why this intense guy? It was only a temporary assignment…why did Sho have to deal with this anyhow?
“I can…rap.”
Matsumoto raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, um, I may be an accountant, but I’ve always had a thing for hip hop music. I have fun writing my own raps.” Matsumoto was a bit too close, and Sho was having a hard time focusing. The guy smelled so good, a fresh and woodsy scent that was as different from the smell of the baked goods in the kitchen downstairs as he could get.
“Love poetry.”
“Huh?”
Matsumoto finally, mercifully backed off. “If you can rap, you can rhyme. And if you can rhyme, you can write love poems. That’s what we’ll put on the homepage.”
“Great,” Sho mumbled, imagining himself stumbling through a sappy poem. “Wonderful.”
“Let’s get started.”
part two
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sakurai Sho/Matsumoto Jun
Summary: In between jobs, Sho agrees to help out at the cafe where his friend works. But his friend fails to mention that he will be expected to do a lot more than just wait tables.
Notes/Warnings: This one’s fluffy, silly, and mostly drama-free. The Arashi Sweets Club was very inspirational!
“Look for the castle,” Nino had said.
Sho, of course, thought that his friend had been joking. Nino was a joking sort of person. But on this rare occasion, he’d been absolutely accurate.
Sakurai Sho found himself standing before a storefront in a bustling area not far from Ikebukuro Station. But this was no ordinary storefront. Instead of simple plate-glass, maybe a logo, the entire front wall gave the appearance of weathered gray stone. The front door was painted to resemble a sturdy iron gate. But despite those overtly imposing design choices, the cafe’s name was elegantly written out in English script on the door.
The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe
He shook his head, still not quite believing he’d ended up in this situation. But it was better than nothing, and he took a deep breath for courage, marching up to the door and pulling it open. Given its appearance, Sho used a little more force than necessary, almost stumbling back when the door opened quite easily.
It was even more remarkable on the inside. The interior walls were painted to resemble the same gray stone on the outside and the corners of the cafe had thick columns that reached the ceiling, each of them painted gray as well and meant to resemble a castle’s turrets. The attention and care that had gone into the cafe’s design was admirable, he thought.
The cafe’s waiting area was on a lower level, carpeted in green to resemble an open field and ringed with wooden benches for waiting guests. The host stand was another small castle turret. Standing behind it was a tall, slim man with a friendly face and dyed brown hair. Sho tried not to laugh at how proud he looked standing there, dressed in a costume that was dominated by a bold green jacket adorned with yellow fleurs-de-lis. He wore it over a blue waistcoat and silky blue cravat. His tight tan trousers were tucked into a pair of knee-high brown boots, and a thin sword hung suspended from a belt around his waist.
The man’s smile was almost as bright as his jacket. “You must be Sakurai-san!”
Sho inclined his head politely. “Sakurai Sho, nice to meet you.”
“Ninomi said you’d be right on time.” The man broke the illusion of his character, pulling his phone from the pocket of his trousers, nodding. “Exactly 10 AM.”
The man stepped forward, shoving his phone back in his pocket and holding out his hand for Sho to shake. “Aiba Masaki, although around here you can call me…” He jumped back suddenly, getting into a fighting stance and pulling his sword free from his belt. He waved it around with an elaborate flourish before pointing it at Sho. “…Prince Masaki!”
Sho gulped in surprise. It wasn’t every day someone pointed a prop sword at him. Sho looked a bit closer. Correction. Not a prop sword.
“That’s a real rapier, isn’t it?”
Aiba-san nodded, settling it back by his side. “All the weaponry here is real, for authenticity’s sake, but we cap the ends if a guest is involved in any way. Anyhow, Ninomi will be here soon to help with your costume. In the mean time, let me give you the grand tour.”
Sho, now feeling quite underdressed in his wool coat, sweater, and jeans, followed Aiba away from the customer waiting area. Opposite the host stand was a pair of two changing stalls with heavy floor-length curtains. Aiba explained that the “Princesses” were allowed to change into costumes they’d brought from home or utilize items management stored here to customize their look. Tiaras and crowns, capes, long skirts made of tulle or cheap fabric.
Leaving the lower level, they climbed up a thick wooden ramp that resembled a drawbridge, with two iron chains connected to the ramp attached to hooks on the restaurant ceiling. Beneath the ramp the green carpet ended and a strip of blue began, serving as the “moat” around the castle proper. Once up the ramp, they were in the main cafe area. Tables with taut white tablecloths ringed the room, which was meant to resemble the castle’s courtyard. The tables sat on gray carpet with a stone-like design.
In the center of the room was the gray tiled “arena,” Aiba explained. Here was where the Princes performed, whatever that meant. Aiba explained things in such a nonchalant way that Sho had to keep asking him to repeat himself.
“I’m sorry, what do you mean by ‘the routine’?” Sho asked nervously.
Aiba stopped in the middle of the arena, posing proudly with his hands on his hips. “Ninomi didn’t tell you about the routine?”
Nino hadn’t told him much at all, come to think of it…
Aiba smiled, shaking his head. “He’s such a jerk! Anyhow.” Aiba stomped on the floor with his boot emphatically. “We sing the Happy Fairy Princess song, all of us, at the top of the hour. There’s a dance with it, but it’s really easy.”
Sho froze, the color draining from his face.
“What exactly did Nino tell you?”
-
It had been three months since Sho’s company had been bought out by the large Chinese conglomerate and two months since Sho had been informed that his employment was being terminated. Accounting wasn’t the most glamorous job in the world, but for more than 10 years it had paid the bills. He’d been good at his job, rising to middle management level with responsibilities for a handful of accounts. But experience and good work didn’t always guarantee permanence.
He had only two more months of severance pay due to him, but his job hunt had so far been unsuccessful, even though he’d had a few interviews. Most companies in the area were looking to hire lower-paid entry-level positions. Someone like Sho with so many years of experience had fewer paths available unless he was willing to take a considerable pay cut. And he was very unwilling. He’d worked too hard to not get paid what he was truly worth.
It was likely that more job openings would start popping up soon come springtime, but for now he kept striking out. He’d apparently been fated to bump into an old high school friend while waiting in line at a coffee shop to buy himself a pity donut.
His kohai, Ninomiya Kazunari, had claimed that he had the perfect opportunity to help Sho out. The price for the information? “You’re gonna have to buy me a donut today, senpai,” Nino had said with that familiar twinkle in his eye. Very little had changed about Nino since high school, including his powerful ability to make people want to take care of him, even though he was now 33 and a grown man.
But Sho, who was already starting to make changes to his monthly household budget, had obliged and bought the donut. He’d sat and listened as Nino explained that he worked as a server for a themed cafe, The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe, where he wore a costume and served sugary desserts to Princesses of all ages. It was similar to the butler and muscle man cafes that had popped up in Tokyo of late, but this one was designed to make any girl or woman feel like a princess for a day.
It just so happened that one of the “Princes” on the cafe roster, Prince Toma, had just had an emergency appendectomy two days earlier. Though he’d be coming home from the hospital soon, he was definitely advised against any vigorous activity for the next few weeks and was not supposed to be on his feet if he didn’t have to be.
So there was a temporary opening at the cafe that would let Sho bring in some money while he kept up his job hunt. The cafe was open six days a week for limited lunch and dinner service hours, closed on Mondays. The schedule would be flexible for a job seeker, since they didn’t open until noon each day, leaving Sho’s mornings free. Sho had waited tables for extra money during college. Of course that had been almost fifteen years ago, but he supposed it would be easy enough to get back into the swing of things.
“You don’t have a problem wearing a costume, do you?” Nino had asked.
“Depends on the costume.”
Nino had laughed. “Well, you get a sword to go with it.”
He and Nino had been in the kendo club in high school, so Sho let that guide his decision. Waiting tables in a costume? Addressing customers as “Your Highness”? That seemed easy enough. When Sho asked if he might be a little old to be a “Prince,” Nino assured him that they had staff of all ages and that the Princesses were the ones to choose who they wanted as their server since they could make a reservation online if they wished.
“You’re good-looking, Sho-san, I don’t think you’ll go un-picked,” Nino teased him.
When he finished his donut, Nino had called up Ohno-san, the cafe’s owner, saying he had a replacement for Prince Toma all ready to go. The owner hadn’t even found it necessary to talk to Sho. Apparently Nino’s approval was good enough.
“Come by tomorrow,” Nino said. “We’ll welcome you to our kingdom.”
-
So no, Nino really hadn’t told Sho everything that was expected of him. Serving food, Sho was good with that. Dressing up, Sho supposed he was fine with that. But Aiba was looking at him now with a nervous smile on his face.
“Every cafe has a gimmick these days,” Aiba explained slowly. “And ours is that we’re Princes.”
“Right.” Sho wasn’t a complete idiot.
“There’s more to it than just bringing a slice of cake to a table. There’s singing and dancing, like I just told you. And then of course, the action scenes…”
Sho raised an eyebrow. “Action scenes?”
The lights flickered and a noisy growl emitted from speakers that were cleverly hidden in each corner of the cafe. Sho jumped when the swinging rear doors he assumed led to the kitchen moved and a green…thing popped out of them.
“Rawr!” shouted the green thing as it prowled among the tables, coming out to the “arena” floor. “Rawrrrrrrrr!”
At that, Aiba smiled, gesturing for Sho to move out of the way. He did so in a hurry because already Aiba was drawing his sword. Instead of the friendly and cheerful man who’d been giving Sho a tour, Sho was now witnessing the arrival of the brave Prince Masaki. He held his sword aloft, pointing it at the green thing.
Now that the lights had stopped flickering, Sho had a better idea of what he was looking at. It was a human in a dragon costume. The costume’s head was elaborately designed with a gaping maw full of pointy teeth. Being human, the dragon was upright, holding out his green arms, the costume’s paws ending in equally pointy claws. The body of the costume seemed to be cloth but covered in dark metal scales that had likely been stitched onto it along with a pair of black wings. A long green tail trailed out from the seat of the costume, brushing along the floor as the dragon moved side to side around the arena, still growling.
What the hell was going on?
“You think I fear you?” Prince Masaki bragged, ready to swing his sword. “Begone from my kingdom, dragon!”
“Rawr!”
He listened a bit closer this time. For some reason, the dragon sounded almost…familiar. But Sho jumped back even more, bumping into one of the tables that ringed the arena floor when the action scene began. To add to the drama, some orchestral “battle music” came screaming out of the speakers.
In what seemed to be a tightly choreographed sequence, Sho watched as Prince Masaki and the dragon circled one another. Every few moments Prince Masaki would lunge forward with a swing of his very much real rapier and the dragon would lean away. And then the dragon would counter, roaring again and lashing out with his claws. Eventually the dragon turned, tail whipping around, and Prince Masaki brought his sword down where the tail met the dragon’s ass. To Sho’s surprise, it fell right off.
The dragon howled, picking the tail up in his arms and cradling it while Prince Masaki let out an overly exaggerated laugh.
“It seems I have defeated you, dragon! And if I ever see you here again, I’ll slice off your head next!”
The dragon lowered his head, almost looking sad. And that was when Aiba put his sword back, bowing to Sho with a flourish.
“And scene!” Aiba cheered.
Sho stood there, still confused, at least until the dragon set down his sliced off tail and instead moved his clawed paws to his head, tugging the thing off. Hair mussed and a little sweaty but otherwise smiling, Ninomiya Kazunari greeted Sho in a friendly voice, a far cry from his dragon noises.
“You made it!”
Sho said nothing.
Nino tucked the dragon head under his arm, cocking his head. “Sho-san, you alright?”
Sho held up a hand, just to gather his thoughts. Meanwhile, Aiba stepped across the arena floor, lifting up the dragon tail. Nino moved a little so that Aiba could latch it back on to him. Apparently Aiba’s strike was helped along, perhaps a switch inside Nino’s green clawed paw that detached the tail at the climax of the battle.
“Nino, when you said that I get a sword to go with my costume…” He saw Nino’s smile grow even bigger. “…maybe it would have been helpful to tell me that I’d actually be expected to use it.”
“The Princesses always laugh when I cut the tail off,” Aiba said needlessly, making sure the tail was back in its proper place.
“It’s only a few weeks, Sho-san, we’ll keep the choreography really easy for you. You won’t have to fight Stormy right away.”
“Stormy?” Sho wondered.
“That’s me, of course!” Nino bragged, wiggling his tail. He looked far less menacing than he had when he’d come into the room. “Stormy the Dragon, The Happy Fairy Princess Cafe’s best villain! Whom I proudly play six days a week.”
“You’re not a Prince?” Sho asked.
Aiba ruffled Nino’s messy hair. “That’s the Sunday storyline, actually! On Sundays, it’s revealed that Stormy is actually a Prince under a dark curse and a group of us teams up to free him from it. That’s when Prince Kazunari shows up.”
“The best looking Prince in the kingdom, you might say,” Nino said.
Aiba laughed, elbowing him. “Yeah right.”
“You’re saying I have to fight?” Sho squeaked out. “And sing and dance and…”
“We’ll teach you,” Nino assured him.
But Sho didn’t really want to fight. He didn’t want to act. He certainly didn’t know how to dance. He didn’t want to do anything but wait tables and have a bit more money to save as a cushion while he looked for permanent work. He really wished Nino had been more upfront about this whole business, because now Sho was probably going to inconvenience them when he backed out and…
The swinging doors moved again, and in walked a short man with a very calm expression, wearing chef’s whites. “Ah, this must be Sakurai-san?”
Before Sho could complain any further, he was introduced to his temporary boss, Ohno Satoshi, the cafe’s owner and head chef. He didn’t dress up as a Prince, choosing instead to manage the cafe’s kitchen where the cakes and cookies and other sweets were made.
“We really appreciate you stepping in to help while Toma-kun is resting,” Ohno said, unable to read Sho’s discomfort levels. He was soft-spoken but firm, telling Nino and Aiba to go get Sho’s costume ready while he continued the tour.
Before Sho could say thanks but no thanks, Ohno-san was leading him through the swinging doors and into the rear of the cafe. The castle illusion disappeared. Directly past the doors was an archway that led to a staircase up to the second floor of the cafe. Ohno explained that there was a staff locker room up there to change into costume, an employee lounge, and the special effects room where music, sound, and lighting for the arena was managed.
Instead of going upstairs, Ohno led him into the kitchen here on the ground floor, introducing him to a handful of friendly men and women who were kneading dough and adding sprinkles to batter. The kitchen smelled absolutely divine, a mixture of sweet sugar and rich chocolate that made Sho’s stomach growl. He didn’t have the sweetest sweet tooth, but this place was truly dangerous.
Ohno showed him to a touchscreen panel where he could input the Princess’ order. Unlike Sho’s previous job waiting tables with a notepad and pen, the Princes were expected to memorize orders and input them in here away from the castle courtyard to keep up the fantasy of the devoted Prince tending to his Princess’ every whim.
“There’s a lot of customization on our menu,” Ohno explained, tapping through the options on the screen. “We’ve got thirty-four ice cream flavors, eight kinds of gelato, the various cakes, brownies, cheesecakes, cookies, and then there’s our topping bar that Shimizu-san manages.” Ohno gestured to a cheerful young woman who was slicing strawberries behind an elaborate counter. “Strawberries, several other types of fruit, nuts, chocolate chips, all that good stuff. We’ve got five flavors of whipped cream that we make in-house.”
There was a milkshake section of the menu as well with names like Magical Mint or Double Royal Chocolate Chunk. Those could be customized just as much, and already Sho’s head was spinning with the complexity of the menu. It would be difficult enough to take one Princess’ order…but he’d also have to memorize the orders of a table full of them. While the tables in the dining room had mostly been tables for two, there’d been a few booths that could definitely seat four. Sho imagined trying to memorize custom orders for four women while also being expected to sing and dance and sword fight and…
“Sakurai-san,” Ohno said gently, tugging him back into the corridor and away from the sound of noisy mixers and knives chopping. “Don’t be nervous, we’ll all help you out. We really appreciate you coming to fill in for our missing Prince.”
“I…I don’t know what Ninomiya-san told you, but I’ve never done anything like this before. I mean, I waited tables fifteen years ago but…”
Ohno lifted his hands, which had a bit of flour on them. When his hands pressed against Sho’s cheeks, he saw a little puff of white appear in the air around them. He blinked, staring down at his new boss.
“You’re going to be apprenticed to our number one requested Prince. With Toma out of action, he’s agreed to take on a heavier workload to get you trained. He’s the best, and he’ll get you up to speed. So please don’t worry,” Ohno explained. “Nino wouldn’t have brought you here if he knew you couldn’t do it.”
“I was…” Sho shook his head, Ohno’s hands still touching his face, smushing his cheeks together. “I am an accountant. I’m an accountant in between jobs. I’m a thirty-five year old salaryman, for goodness sake. I don’t sing. And I only dance at weddings when I’m drunk…”
“You have a very handsome face, Sakurai-san, and that already gives you an advantage. Customers are very forgiving of men with handsome faces, I’ve found.” Ohno finally let him go, grinning. “Also, you can eat for free.”
Sho could smell a fresh batch of brownies coming out of the oven, the heavenly scent wafting into the corridor. He imagined spending the next few weeks trying every item on the menu, free of charge.
“Well…” Sho admitted, ignoring his logical side in favor of his rumbling tummy. He’d skipped breakfast today. “I’ll…I’ll do my best.”
“That’s the spirit,” Ohno said. “The doors open to our guests at noon. Now. Let’s see how good you look with a sword.”
-
Nino and Aiba were waiting for him at the top of the steps, eagerness on both of their faces.
“He told you that you can eat for free, didn’t he?” Nino teased, gesturing for Sho to follow them down the upstairs hall.
“I’ve tried everything,” Aiba explained. “At least twice. I have a spreadsheet on my phone to keep track of all my ice cream and topping combos.”
Nino patted Aiba’s shoulder. “This guy is every dentist’s dream,” he said. “Prince Masaki is what you might call a sweets addict. How many cavities did you have at your last check-up?”
“Irrelevant. I have great teeth.” He really did, Sho thought. Very…princely of him. “But it’s the calories that are the real danger. Which is why it’s good that I get to exercise on the job,” he pointed out, giving Nino a poke in his dragon-costumed arm. “I sweat the calories away!”
Sho was led into the locker room. There were cubby holes for each employee to keep their personal items, each of them marked with a piece of masking tape that had their name. There was a rack for coats, and Aiba held out a hanger so Sho could take his off and hang it. Then there was another rack full of outrageous costumes.
He told Nino his size, and soon Nino and Aiba were pulling items off of the rack that were currently not being used by any of the other Princes. It seemed like all of the outfits were Western in design, similar to the outfits a character might wear at Tokyo Disneyland rather than anything Japanese-style. Sho frowned at the heap of clothes they handed to him, and he frowned again when he wasn’t given much privacy. He stripped down to his boxers and socks to tug on his new princely persona.
There was a long-sleeved black shirt and a gray sleeveless tunic to wear over it that fell to just below his ass. Then there was a rather form-fitting pair of brown slacks, closer to leggings than actual trousers. Aiba found him a pair of black boots to wear that came to just under his knees. Nino attacked him next, pulling a black belt with a gold buckle around his waist and over his tunic.
They tugged him over to the full-length mirror on the wall near the cubby holes. Sho cringed at the sight of himself. He had Nino in the flashy dragon costume to his right, Aiba in his bright green jacket to his left. “I think I come from a very poor kingdom,” Sho mumbled.
“Oh, I know!” Aiba exclaimed, rushing over to a set of plastic tubs that contained even more items. Hats and helmets, even chainmail. Aiba tugged out something red, flinging it into Nino’s hands and unearthing a long red piece of fabric. The fabric turned out to be a rather obnoxious cape, which Aiba pulled around Sho’s shoulders and clasped together with a gaudy gold brooch. Nino plopped the other red item right on Sho’s head. A red cap with a pointed end almost like a bird’s beak. It had a bright purple feather jutting out of it.
They turned him back to the mirror and now Sho was regretting having complained about the blandness of his costume. Because now he was wearing a cape. And a pointy hat.
“Red suits you,” Aiba said.
“And the hat distracts from how sharply angled your shoulders are,” Nino added, making Sho roll his eyes.
“Prince Sho!” Aiba cheered, and he and Nino both clapped.
He felt a little tougher when Aiba clipped something to the belt around his waist, hanging a leather scabbard from it. The added weight was surprising, and Sho eased the sword out from inside it, grasping it by its gold-colored hilt. Aiba tapped on the blade with his finger. It wasn’t steel, but it was still a hefty metal.
“It’s fake,” Aiba explained, grinning. “Prop sword. Since you won’t have to fight today, but you’ll still look brave.”
Thank god, Sho thought. He sheathed it back in the scabbard. He had to admit that even if the hat and cape were a bit much, it felt pretty cool to have a sword at his side. He turned a little, absorbing his new appearance, watching the cape flutter through the air as he moved. Well, at least he didn’t have to have a dragon tail trailing on the floor after him and…
“Lose the hat.”
Sho stopped moving at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. He turned around to find another man standing in the doorway, leaning against it and looking far from impressed.
Now this, Sho realized, this was a “Prince.”
He was a little taller than Sho, about the same height as Prince Masaki. But where Aiba was lanky and sparkling like a prince at court, this new person was broad-shouldered and battle-ready, looking like he might mount his horse at any moment to lead a charge. While Sho knew that his red cape and tunic and leggings were just a silly costume, this guy inhabited his outfit like it was his normal everyday wear.
He wore a dark long-sleeved indigo-colored shirt made of soft leather that accentuated his wide shoulders and stretched tightly around his upper arms. The low v-neck shirt was laced up in the middle of his broad chest, a thin white cotton shirt just peeking out underneath. He was wearing tight brown trousers tucked into knee-high black boots. A black leather sword belt hung around his waist, a sword with a silver hilt sheathed at his side.
And then there was his face. His hair was dark and shaggy, some of it seductively falling across his brow. His eyebrows were thick, his eyes big and striking much like the rest of his features. His pouty mouth completed the ridiculously aristocratic look he was sporting. This was a man who stood out in a crowd.
Sho meekly took the pointy hat off of his head, holding it nervously in his hands.
Sensing the odd change in the air, it was Prince Masaki who immediately set about calming things down. “Well, it’s about time you got here,” he chided the newcomer, marching over and poking him right in his leather-clad shoulder.
“How’s Toma doing?” Nino asked.
And all at once the stoic, too cool facade faded a little, the man entering the room properly, hand balanced on the pommel of his sword. “Oh I just got off the phone with him, he’s getting discharged tomorrow. He said the flowers we sent him were really cheesy. What a jerk.”
Sho blinked at the sudden change in demeanor.
“Sakurai Sho, let me introduce you to the Happy Fairy Princess Cafe’s number one requested Prince,” Nino said. “This is Prince Jun.”
Prince Jun held out a hand, and Sho shifted his dumb hat to his other hand so he could shake. The man’s grip was firm, solid, and Sho wasn’t sure if he was turned on right now or utterly petrified. Because while “Prince Jun” was quite possibly the most alluring creature Sho had seen in his entire life, he remembered what Ohno-san had said downstairs.
That the person he’d be apprenticing with here at the cafe was the number one requested Prince. And here he was in all his leathery glory.
“Matsumoto Jun,” the guy said, still looking at Sho a bit dubiously. “Thanks for filling in.”
“I…I like your costume,” Sho stuttered out.
“Thanks. I had it custom-made.”
No wonder it fit him so perfectly, Sho thought, eyes drifting to the laces on the front of his shirt, imagining Matsumoto’s fingers tightening them. Or loosening them.
Aiba wrapped a friendly arm around Matsumoto’s shoulders. “You see, that’s why he’s the top star around here. He’s very dedicated to his job.”
Matsumoto rolled his eyes.
“No, it’s true,” Nino insisted, moving over to stand on Matsumoto’s other side, tail dragging along the tile. Together he and Aiba crowded Matsumoto more than he probably liked. “Let’s see. Jun-kun here has a custom outfit.”
“Custom outfit,” Aiba echoed.
“Custom sword.”
“Custom sword,” Aiba said, tugging on the hilt of Jun’s sword to reveal a gleaming blade. Unlike Aiba’s thin, elegant rapier, Matsumoto was toting a broadsword the same as the one at Sho’s waist. Except his was real.
“And,” Nino said, “he’s the one who runs the show.”
Matsumoto looked uncomfortable, his ears turning pink. “I…I don’t do it myself…”
“No,” Nino agreed, “but Jun-kun designed all the lighting we use. He selected the music playlist. He hired Muro-san, who works in the special effects room. He writes our scripts…”
“I suggest scenarios,” Matsumoto protested, “it’s not the same thing…”
“And he’s the one who organized all our stage combat classes,” Nino bragged. “He’s a real superstar, this guy.”
“Nino, what happened to you being the best looking Prince in the kingdom, huh?” Aiba joked.
“Well, I still am. Jun-kun’s not stealing that title from this gorgeous face any time soon,” Nino insisted.
Matsumoto gestured to Sho. “Come on, let’s get you away from these two idiots.”
Aiba’s hand immediately went to his sword belt in mock challenge. “How dare you, sir!”
Matsumoto’s laughter was rather light considering how serious he seemed otherwise. Sho stumbled forward, throwing the red hat back in the direction of the costume tubs to follow Matsumoto Jun out of the room. He could hear Nino and Aiba’s laughter following them.
Matsumoto stopped them in the hall, the cool look returning to his strong features. “You don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, do you?”
Sho gulped a bit in surprise. “I…I really thought I was just coming here to wait tables. Nino didn’t exactly…”
Matsumoto sighed. “Look, this gig may be temporary for you, but it means a lot to the customers who come here. They come looking for an escape. And sugar. But mostly an escape. So for today, I want you to shadow me. Don’t improvise. Just observe. Get a sense for what is expected of you.”
“Okay.”
“What’s your specialty?”
“My what?”
Matsumoto grew impatient. “What are you good at? Like especially good? Our photos are on the cafe website and we list our special talents there too. Some Princesses are just looking for a face they like, others expect a little more. My special talent is push-ups.”
Oh god, Sho thought, imagining Matsumoto on the floor doing just that, even dressed in his leather get-up.
“Prince Masaki’s is arm wrestling. Nino’s usually a dragon so he’s not often called upon to show off, but he can do card tricks. So what about you, Prince Sho? What can you do?”
Sho swallowed, seeing the intense look Matsumoto was giving him. If he wasn’t on the clock, ready to start his new job as Prince Jun’s shadow, he’d probably melt to the floor under the strength of that look. “I’m…an accountant.”
“That’s not a special skill,” Matsumoto pointed out. “That’s a job.”
“Okay,” Sho agreed. “Then…math, I guess.”
“Math,” Matsumoto repeated, stepping closer until Sho’s back hit the wall, his scabbard scraping against it. “You think some woman’s going to walk in here and ask you to do long division?”
Sho frowned. “I can play the piano?”
“We don’t have a piano,” Matsumoto replied, his voice deepening in irritation.
Why couldn’t Ohno have assigned him to work with Nino? Or Aiba? Why this intense guy? It was only a temporary assignment…why did Sho have to deal with this anyhow?
“I can…rap.”
Matsumoto raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yeah, um, I may be an accountant, but I’ve always had a thing for hip hop music. I have fun writing my own raps.” Matsumoto was a bit too close, and Sho was having a hard time focusing. The guy smelled so good, a fresh and woodsy scent that was as different from the smell of the baked goods in the kitchen downstairs as he could get.
“Love poetry.”
“Huh?”
Matsumoto finally, mercifully backed off. “If you can rap, you can rhyme. And if you can rhyme, you can write love poems. That’s what we’ll put on the homepage.”
“Great,” Sho mumbled, imagining himself stumbling through a sappy poem. “Wonderful.”
“Let’s get started.”
part two