Mission Info:

Kokoro could smell the mouth-watering aroma before she even walked through the front door, and she have a heavenly sigh. She parted the cloth covering the door, and a luxurious, bustling restaurant appeared before her eyes. Every wall and every table glistened with white radiance, and the male waiters were dressed in finely pressed tuxedos and walked with sophisticated grace. Kokoro was so frozen in awe that she initially did not notice a short, balding man approach her.

"Can I help you?" she man asked in a nasal monotone.

Kokoro snapped to her senses and turned her head to the right and looked down to meet her yellow eyes with his. "O-oh. I'm Kokoro. I'm here to be a fill-in waiter..."

"Oh, yes! Glad you're here," he said with minimal excitement. "I am the manager. You may call me Mr. Minamoto." He curled his finger toward the tall girl and began to walk toward the kitchen. Kokoro shuffled close behind the manager. "The entire female staff called in sick this morning, and we are dangerously short on staff," he said as they passed through the silvery kitchen. As he droned, Kokoro had a difficult time listening to him, enveloped in a sea of scents. Her sensitive nose picked up every single spice, each fresh pastry, every tantalizing piece of meat. Kokoro sighed. "...now head into the back room and change into your uniform." The light in Kokoro's eyes flickered as she woke up.

"Uniform? You mean a tuxedo?"

Mr. Minamoto chuckled. "Don't be ridiculous. The women waiters don't wear tuxedos." The short man then disappeared through the haze of the kitchen.

- - - - -

"You have got to be kidding!"

Kokoro looked at her reflection in the mirror in disgust. The uniform she was required to wear was a black maid costume with frilly white trimming around the skirt and collar. The only thing left of the outfit she came in was her flowery pin in her hair. Too much of her body was on display for her own comfort with the black lace stockings and the plunging neckline. She tried to pull the skirt further down to no avail. Kokoro groaned. I can see why they all called in sick.

- - - - -

She sauntered over to her first table, sloping her shoulders. "Welcome," she said meekly. "I'm Kokoro, and I'll be your waiter today." She spun around half-heartedly, a gesture Mr. Minamoto instructed her to do with each introduction. The men at the smiled, entertained. Kokoro barely looked up from her notepad as she took down all of their orders, but she could feel their eyes inspecting every inch of her outfit. Kokoro's skin crawled. She turned around and began to walk away when she suddenly perked up. Someone had goosed her. Kokoro clenched her teeth and practically crushed her notepad as she stormed off.

- - - - -

An hour had passed. None of the other patrons were quite as forward as her first table, but her job was not made any easier. Table after table after table wore her down. She felt like the inside of her chest was on fire and that she could erupt any minute. Her whole body was stiff, even as she trudged from table to table.

As she reached her next table, her eyes widened in surprise. A woman with long black hair like Kokoro's sat alone in a booth. The woman smiled, and Kokoro tried to smile back but her jaw was far too tense. Kokoro repeated her introduction and her spin, and the woman laughed quietly. "Mr. Minamoto still makes you spin? Nothing's changed."
Kokoro stood with her jaw agape. "Did all the girls 'call in sick' again?" Kokoro was still in shock. "I'll take that as a yes." The woman casually looked at the menu. "Yep, I used to work her long ago. I'm embarrassed to come here sometimes, but I have to admit the food is really good. I'm kinda surprised Mr. Minamoto is still boss. That guy is older than dirt." Kokoro gave a muted giggle. The woman turned and smiled. "You're very beautiful, you know. The outfit is garish, no doubt, but your hair is very gorgeous. And I like your pin."
Kokoro's hand wandered to her pin, and the corner of her mouth began to form a smile. Kokoro then took the woman's order and bowed gleefully.

- - - - -

The woman's kind words extinguished the fire inside Kokoro, and she found a newfound confidence. Her step became more light, her spins more gracefully, and her smiles brighter. Her smiles and energy were infectious to the patrons. She tried to make everyone's day as the woman made hers.

Her five hour shift came to a close faster than she imagined. She could not get out of her outfit any faster. Throwing the uniform onto the floor, she exited the back room and made a dash for the exit. But her eyes caught the faces of the men in a booth by the door: the same men from her first table, returning for dinner. Kokoro did not lock eyes with them and walked towards the doorway with her head held high. As she passed the booth, she saw from the corner of her eye one of them reaching their hand towards her. In one swift move, Kokoro reached back and pulled his hand forward in a hand lock. The man froze. "You can't touch me," Kokoro growled. "I'm off duty." Kokoro pressed her thumb hard onto his, and the man yelped. The girl then let go of his hand and gave a prideful smirk, leaving the restaurant behind her.

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