Thankfully, school started on a Thursday, meaning that today is the last day of school for the week and I had a couple days to work on a battle plan for Hoka.
I came to school early on today to check for hidden cameras, but found 10 year-old bread crusts on the corners of the school's warehouse instead.
A good start.
It was during this time that I had dug up a method I used during my real-estate days, which would keep Hoka safer when he's alone.
Make him use a voice recorder.
That way, I can check up on him if he's missing and at least have a clue on what happened to him through the recorder.
Hoka was willing to test the idea, however…
As I looked at what theme the cafe I was staring at had, I wanted to turn back right away.
This was a mistake.
A terrible, terrible mistake.
Yet, somehow, I had still walked myself straight into a yandere-themed cafe.
The pink neon sign above me read *"My Darling For Life~❤️"*, Its cutesy heart logo had knives at the back glowing mockingly at me.
There was literally a chalkboard outside that said, "Come inside~ We'll take good care of you… forever ❤️"
I wasn't fooled.
I knew what awaited me inside was fake but still torturous nonetheless.
Even then, I already forced Hoka to dial the police if I didn't message him back in a day.
I had a bet to honor.
Hoka, knowing that I always try to go away from the themed cafe near my area, dared me to go there if I wanted him to wear a voice recorder everyday.
One visit, one drink, and I could force Hoka to wear a voice recorder at school.
A fair trade.
Or at least, it should have been if it wasn't yandere themed this time around.
I sighed.
*Let's just get this over with.*
With a deep breath, I pushed open the door to face one of my toughest battles.
…
Inside, the place was surprisingly normal.
At first.
It was just like any other maid café—cute decor, upbeat background music, a cheerful atmosphere.
The place was decorated to look like a sweet yet unsettling dream. Lace curtains, gothic chandeliers, plush velvet seats… and an actual cell in the corner labeled "Punishment Room."
…They're Faking it Right?
"Welcome home, my love~❤️."
I barely stepped inside before a waitress was already right in front of me.
Too fast.
Too smooth.
A veteran at play here.
She had long, silky pink hair, bright pink contacts, and an unsettlingly intense smile.
"You made me wait sooo long," she sighed, pressing her hands together. "But I forgive you. Because I love you~❤️."
I stiffened.
*Act natural. Don't make sudden movements.*
"…Table for one?"
Her eyes gleamed.
"Awww, my poor, lonely darling~❤️." She reached out, lightly tracing a finger over my sleeve. "Don't worry. I'll keep you company forever and ever~."
I almost took a step back and kicked her away from me—
Then I noticed her tag.
(Acting: Yandere)
…
Oh.
Oh, thank all those mantras.
They were just acting.
The realization hit me like a truck.
Every single waitress had a similar tag: (Part-Time Yandere), (Fake Obsessionist), and (Good at Acting Yandere).
I could have sobbed in relief right then and there.
I wasn't surrounded by real yanderes.
Just people who were really good at pretending to be yanderes.
Which… somehow wasn't much better.
…
I was seated at a corner table, desperately trying to ignore the over-the-top interactions around me.
Across the room, a customer was being dramatically scolded.
"You spoke to another girl? How could you~? Now I have no choice but to punish you~❤️."
Another table over, a waitress knelt beside a flustered guy.
"Say it. Say you love me. If you don't… I'll cry~."
I didn't know what was worse—the performances or the fact that some customers were into it.
I glanced down at my menu, sighing.
The menu names were exactly what I feared:
"Mine Forever~❤️" (Heart Shaped Strawberry Shortcake)
"Say You Love Me~❤️" (Matcha Latte with Custom Knife Art)
"If You Leave, I'll Cry~❤️" (Omurice with Oddly Shaped Ketchup Heart Message)
I ordered a matcha latte.
"Great choice, darling~❤️," the waitress purred. "I'll make it *extra* special, just for you."
I didn't respond.
Because I had already seen her tag.
(Yandere Character—Used to Be a Theater Kid)
…Yeah. That explained a lot.
I thought I could just drink my latte in peace.
I was wrong.
The moment the cup was placed in front of me, I immediately noticed the message written in chocolate syrup.
**"Don't betray me~❤️"**
I stared at it.
Then I stared at the waitress.
She stared back, smiling sweetly.
"…You'll drink it, won't you?" she asked, tilting her head.
I hesitated for half a second before nodding and taking a sip.
It was actually really good.
Which was the worst part.
Eventually, I finished my drink and pulled out my wallet.
The waitress pouted. "Already leaving?"
I forced a stiff smile. "Uh, yeah. Gotta get home."
Her eyes glinted mischievously.
"But we were just starting to get close…"
I tensed.
Then—she giggled.
"Just kidding~❤️! I hope you come back soon, darling."
I barely stopped myself from sprinting out of there.
Never. Again.
The second I was a safe distance away, I yanked out my phone and texted Hoka.
[Aron]: You're wearing the recorder every day. No excuses.
[Hoka]: LMAO how bad was it.
[Aron]: They're all just acting. But it was too real.
[Hoka]: Theater kids are terrifying.
[Aron]: Never making a bet with you again.
[Hoka]: Worth it.
I sighed.
At least I got what I wanted.
But still…
Never. Again.
…
…I forgot my wallet
Oh, Come On.
I had barely walked three blocks away when I realized something horrifying.
My wallet was missing.
I patted my pockets. Checked my bag. Checked my pockets again like that would magically make it appear.
Nothing.
Which meant…
I had left it inside that cursed cafe.
I took a deep breath, grabbed my imaginary cigarette and puffed for a while.
I could just… leave it. Get a new wallet. Cancel my cards. Live without cash.
But my student ID was in there.
And if I lost another one, I'd have to go through the entire process of replacing it, which involved long lines, bureaucratic hell, and an admin lady who had a (Sadist) tag.
So, with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to his execution, I turned around and headed back.
…
By the time I returned, the café was already closed for the day.
The neon sign was off, and the inside lights were dim.
But I could still see people moving around as they cleaned up.
I knocked hesitantly on the glass door.
One of the waitresses—the one who had served me earlier—perked up. She walked over, unlocking the entrance with a small smile.
"Oh? Back so soon, darling~❤️?"
I exhaled. "Yeah, uh, I think I left my wallet."
She tilted her head, then turned to call inside.
"Hey, did anyone find a wallet?"
"Check under table seven," someone replied. "We just finished sweeping."
As they searched, I idly glanced around.
Then, out of habit, I looked at their tags.
And froze.
The previous (Part-Time Yandere) and (Fake Obsessionist) tags were gone.
Instead, they now read:
- (Tired College Student—Just Wants to Go Home)
- (Actually Shy—The Act Kills Me Every Time)
- (Regrets This Job but Needs Money)
I blinked.
They were normal.
Painfully, relatably normal.
The same girl who had been threatening customers with "punishments" earlier? Now had a (Sociology Major—Cried Over Group Projects Last Night) tag.
The one who had dramatically declared, "Say you love me, or I'll cry"?
(Introvert—Hates Talking to Strangers, But This Pays Well)
Even the barista, who had been a little too convincing with their chocolate syrup messages, had (Wants to Do Latte Art Competitions Instead) floating over their head.
…
What the hell?
I had been terrified during my first visit, but now I was almost impressed.
They weren't just "acting" yandere.
They were 'acting' acting.
Like flipping a switch, they had gone from "I will kidnap you and lock you in my basement" to "I'm just trying to survive in this economy."
And I had been completely fooled.
"…Damn," I muttered.
"What was that?" the waitress asked, turning back to me.
I coughed. "Uh. Nothing."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't press further.
A second later, one of the other workers came out from the back, holding my wallet.
"Found it."
"Thanks," I said, taking it quickly. "And, uh… good luck with work."
The waitress chuckled. "Thanks, darling~❤️. Come back soon~."
I speed-walked away.
Never. Again.
…
As soon as I was a safe distance away, I pulled out my phone and checked my messages.
[Hoka]: Did u survive?
[Aron]: I forgot my wallet and had to go back.
[Hoka]: LOL
[Aron]: Shut up.
[Hoka]: WAIT SO YOU SAW THEM OUT OF CHARACTER???
[Aron]: Yeah.
[Hoka]: HOW WAS IT
[Aron]: Honestly? Terrifying in a different way. They're too good at method acting
[Hoka]: Probably theater kids man.
I sighed.
At least I got my wallet back.
But if I ever *did* go missing in the future, I was 100% sure these people could cover it up flawlessly.
I really needed to start making better bets.