“Wh-why did I think about asking Maou? I could ask a million other people…”
For some reason, until the moment she realized she didn’t have his number, she never thought for a moment about contacting anyone except Maou. It didn’t seem like something to contact the location’s general phone line about—asking something like “My friends are coming tomorrow; how should I handle them?” seemed incredibly immature to her.
“It’s not like they’re guaranteed to show up,” she reassured herself. “Maybe I could ask someone in tomorrow’s shift for some advice. Someone like…”
She took a look at the shift schedule she had inserted in her notebook. Then she remembered that it consisted of two sheets.
“Oh…phone numbers.”
The second one was a list of crewmember contacts. It allowed people to contact Kisaki in case of emergency or other people in case they wanted to swap shifts. She had received that sheet as part of her first-day packet. Her own number wasn’t on there yet, but Maou’s was.
What kind of place does Maou live in, anyway? No TV, no washer, no refrigerator… Nothing too luxurious, probably. But given how the schedule showed him working the afternoon–evening shift almost daily, he couldn’t have been a college student. Maybe an actor or musician, chasing his dreams in the big city…?
“No!” Chiho said. “That’s not what I want to know! I just want to know if it’s okay to chat with my friends a little if they show up, and stuff…”
Between the way he acted and how hard he worked, Maou seemed like a solid enough guy. Nothing lurking behind the scenes. Maybe he was taking correspondence courses or something? So he could get into college or vo-tech?
“I said, that’s not what I want to know!”
He must have been pretty poor, living alone in an apartment, but it seemed like he had his life under control. Between his hair, his bag, and his clothing, he looked perfectly fine (if not exactly on the cutting edge of fashion), and his uniform was always clean and neatly washed. Perhaps he had a significant other of some sort taking care of his personal life?
“…!”
Why am I imagining stuff like that? I hate this. But I don’t even know why I hate this. But, in terms of common sense, it was totally possible. But so what if Maou has a GF or whatever? It’s got nothing to do with me…
“No! No, no, no! No way he’s got one!”
“Chiho! What are you hollering about?!”
The sound of her mother yelling from downstairs made Chiho blush.
Actually, why not ask…her? Talking over the phone was too much of a hurdle right now. She didn’t want people to think she was some frivolous girl, bothering them with stupid questions late at night.
“…No. I don’t.”
Chiho put the schedule away with her notebook, turned out the light in her room, and went downstairs to talk things over. But the moment things went dark, a corner of her head was flooded with images of the imaginary life partner next to Maou: Some brave, gallant housewife, maybe, supporting his busy work schedule at home? Or maybe he got saddled with some lazy woman who wastes all his money? Or maybe someone who goes around in kimonos every day? Opposites attract, as they say, after all… Or maybe a woman who has it all together, working on her career just like Maou is?
“Oh, it doesn’t matter, though. It doesn’t matter!”
It was freaking her out, her mind creating all these concrete images of Maou’s girlfriend. She shook her head to cast them all away.
“What doesn’t matter?”
Chiho’s mother heard her talking to herself down the stairs.
“Oh, nothing,” she replied as she moved on to the living room. “Listen, though, I wanted to ask you something…”
“Sure,” her mother said as Chiho settled down on the sofa. “But are you still worried about that career-counseling thing? What happened with that in the end?”
“…Agh!” she yelped. She had totally forgotten. That was due next Monday.
After the rest of the evening spent staring at the career survey, the only things Chiho could fill out on it were her name and classroom number. It was still giving her a headache by the time she departed for work the following day, but she had a bigger and more immediate issue to deal with—whether Yoshiya would actually show or not.
Kaori had texted the previous night that she’d “try to slow him down so he doesn’t do anything too stupid,” but even with that reassurance, there was something superawkward about being seen at her part-time job. Now she knew exactly why Kaori didn’t tell her about her job until she quit. It wasn’t for any logical reason; dealing with them in a different situation from the norm just didn’t feel right.
Chiho had discussed the issue with her mother the previous night, of course. “Well,” she suggested, “as long as it doesn’t affect your work much, I’m sure they’ll let you guys chat for a bit, won’t they? Just make sure your manager and coworkers don’t start glaring at you.”
It wasn’t very effective advice. She didn’t know why, but Kisaki apparently had high praise for her. She didn’t want that praise to fly out the window because of something she did.
So, in the end:
“Hey, um… I think my friends might pay me a visit during this shift…”
She kept her promise. If she didn’t understand something, she was supposed to ask a fellow crewmember. So she asked Maou.
“Your friends? From school?”
“Y-yeah. But if they show up, though…”
Halfway through the question, Chiho began to feel incredibly silly. Surely this was something she was capable of handling by herself. These weren’t strangers, after all. Just work through it, and everything will be fine. No?
As if to back up her internal logic, Maou smiled and nodded. “I don’t think you need to get all formal about it,” he said. “Unless it’s really busy or they’re causing some kind of scene, you can talk for a bit in the corner somewhere and nobody’s gonna care at all. That’s all it’ll probably be, won’t it?”
“Yeah, I think so…um…”
Chiho found it strangely difficult to look Maou in the eye today. She only barely stammered out her reply, too.
Maou looked back and chuckled, as if recalling something.
“It’s always kind of awkward when someone you know really well is watching you work, isn’t it? But it’d be rude to just treat them like any other customer, too…”
Something about the display relieved Chiho. It was the same way with everyone else after all.
“Like, I never used to think about saying things like ‘Good morning, sir’ and ‘Thank you’ to my retainers back in the day. I feel kinda bad about it now.”
If Maou had his own qualms about this social situation, then maybe Chiho had every right to eye it with dread. It made sense.
But something else sprang up in Chiho’s mind. Maou had just used a word she was a little unfamiliar with. His “retainers”? What were those? Judging by the context, nothing to do with going to the dentist.
Maou, failing to notice this mild concern, looked toward Chiho and nodded. “Guess you just gotta read the situation and go with the flow, huh?”
“Um… Oh. Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thank you! Sorry I’m asking such a pointless question.”
The concern was really just a tiny ripple in her mind, quickly drowned out by the fact that Maou was looking right into her eyes. The awkward silence made her bow politely, and then it was gone entirely.
“Oh, it’s fine, it’s fine! I mean, when I first started working here, I even asked someone if it was okay to toss out the empty plastic bottles customers left behind. If anything, it’s good that you’re asking about that, Chi. It shows that you don’t want to be caught messing around on the clock.”
“H-hyeahh!”
“Huh?”
“Oh, um, yeah! Thank you very much!”
“Sure. Boy, you’re a ball of energy today, Chi.”
Chiho was having the worst problem keeping herself from s
tuttering around Maou lately. Being called “Chi” twice in rapid succession made her voice go into volume-overdrive mode, in a feeble attempt to cover up her embarrassment. It didn’t work. All that hesitating last night, and now Maou was just spouting off “Chi, Chi” like a voice clip on repeat. She didn’t mind it with the rest of the crew, but when Maou used that term, she just couldn’t contain herself.
“Did they say when they’d be showing up?”
“Huh? Who?”
“Your friends.”
“Oh… Um, umm, I don’t know yet. I’m not even sure if they’re showing at all or not…”
“Ah, all right. That’ll make it even harder to relax, won’t it? Like, I remember getting all nervous when a friend of mine said he’d come visit me in here, too. Try not to freak out too much, though, ’cause you’ll wind up making careless errors that way.”
Her friends had nothing to do with this current freakout. That was all about—
“Um, um, um, I’m gonna go do the ‘Three PM Number Ten’ check!”
“Oh? Sure thing. Thanks.”
Unable to stand on the spot a moment longer, Chiho rather forcefully extracted herself from the conversation and escaped into the bathroom, Maou blessedly no longer in her field of vision.
“…Must be some tough friends to deal with,” Maou mused as he watched her go.
“Number Ten” was crew slang for the bathroom, a term invented so they could discuss the toilets in public without spoiling customers’ lunches. MgRonald stipulated hourly cleanliness checks, and that was what Chiho did now, writing her name on the inspection sheet taped to the wall next to the sinks.
“…Agh!”
Right above the three PM slot on the sheet was “MAOU,” written in blocky, stereotypically mannish letting. He must have covered the two PM check.
“Uh, Maou, Chiho… Ahh! I messed it up! Wait, I…I didn’t mean to…!”
She had written just her first name right in the middle of her slot. In a panic, she crossed it out and scribbled “Sasaki” into what little space remained on the side.
“This is getting sooo embarrassing.”
She had no idea why she was obsessing over Maou so much. Whatever the cause, just thinking about him made it impossible to keep her cool. Having Kaori and Yoshiya show up when she was in a state like this would be even worse of a catastrophe.
Chiho left the bathroom, not particularly tired but her head still drooped down low.
“Oh, there you are, Sasaki!”
“Aaagh!”
Right in front of her was Yoshiya, practically bellowing out loud as he came up to Chiho in his street clothes.
“Ooh, Sasachi!” said Kaori, right behind him. “You weren’t at the registers, so we were worried you were someplace where we couldn’t see you.”
“Ohhhh, okay, um… Great. So, uhhhh…”
Chiho was utterly unprepared for this. Ignoring all potential embarrassment, she turned her eyes toward Maou at the counter. Yoshiya’s yelp of excitement had already caught his attention. He sized the three of them up, nodded, then signaled something with his eyes.
They hadn’t known each other long enough to communicate nonverbally with much success. But Chiho, deciding to take a “what would Maou do” approach, pieced herself together as much as she could and gave her two friends a light bow.
“Welcome to MgRonald, guys!” she said. “Feel free to head to the counter once you’re ready to order!”
“…Hohh?”
“Oooh, she’s doing it!”
She dared another glance at Maou on the way back up. He just smiled back—no nods, no head shakes. That must’ve passed muster with him. She guided them to the register she and Maou were manning at the moment.
“Ah, welcome back, both of you.”
“…Oh! Are you the guy from a few weeks ago?!”
Maou bowed at Kaori.
“Did you actually remember me?” she asked.
“Well, Ms. Sasaki mentioned you were her friends, so I figured that would’ve been the case. I’m sorry you had to deal with that ruined handout.”
“Wait, what? Do you guys know each other?”
Yoshiya, unaware of the spilled-soda episode, gaped at the exchange between his friend and the MgRonald cashier.
“Oh!” Maou turned to Chiho. “I have an idea, Sasaki.”
“Huh?”
“Since these are your friends and all, how ’bout I have you handle the entire order and tray setting?”
“Wha? By myself?!”
Chiho was fairly shocked at this. “Tray setting” involved how items were placed on the trays for customers—there was a whole slew of regulations related to that—but Chiho’s cashier experience so far involved only taking orders and handling payments.
Outside of peak hours, it was the cashier’s responsibility to bring out drinks and sides, assuming no one else on duty was free to handle that. A full-fledged cashier did far more than run the register—within a limited target time, they had to hand over drinks, fries, and occasionally salads and desserts to customers.
Chiho had been schooled on how to do all this…but would it really work? During the few moments she stewed over this, Maou left the register station and exchanged a few words with Kaori, off to the side. Kaori nodded and took something out of her wallet.
“So this is the receipt from last time, but he said we could exchange this for the same stuff as before.”
“Huhh?!”
It was the service receipt Kisaki mentioned to Chiho back when she was just another customer. Kaori was just as much a victim of the soda-handout disaster as Chiho, so it made sense that Kisaki had stepped up to give her a freebie.
“Oh, hey, I got a coupon, too, actually.”
“All right!”
Yoshiya probably didn’t plan it in advance—he never did—but he took out his phone, pressed a few buttons, and showed Chiho a screen with a coupon on it.
“Hang in there,” Maou said as he took a step back, watching over his charge.
Chiho closed her eyes, focused her concentration on the challenge before her, and took a deep breath. She was being tested. She had to respond in kind.
“…Now, would you like to have the same items that are printed on this receipt?”
“Sure, that works.”
“Perfect. There won’t be any charge for those, then.”
Chiho typed in the dessert-and-soda set printed on Kaori’s receipt and tapped the “special menu” key, followed by the receipt code to confirm that this was a complimentary reimbursement. Confirming the total cost was zero yen, she tapped “OK” on the touch screen.
Yoshiya, meanwhile, was ordering a combo with his coupon. “Hey,” he asked, “can I use this coupon, but get some nuggets with it instead of fries?”
Chiho tapped the “e-Money” button and advised Yoshiya to put his phone against the reader in front of the register. He did so. The LED on the reader device lit up a reassuring shade of blue.
“…I apologize, sir,” she said, “but since this is a limited-time coupon, I’m afraid that except for sizes, I’m not allowed to make any changes or substitutions.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll take fries, then. Oh, and a fountain drink.”
“All right.” She tapped “OK” again to lock in the order. “That’ll be a total of six hundred fifty yen, please.”
“Ah, shoot, this is all I got. Can you break this?”
Yoshiya handed a brown banknote to Chiho. She made sure to consciously read the numerical value on it as she accepted it.
“Certainly. Out of ten thousand yen… Change check, please!”
She called for another crewmember to first confirm the bill’s value, then check to make sure the correct number of banknotes were provided as change.
“I’m sorry again, sir, but I’ll have to provide your change in smaller bills. Is that all right?”
Since they were past the lunch rush, there were no more five-thousand-yen bills left in the register, for
cing Chiho to give Yoshiya nine one-thousand-yen bills instead. She counted each one as she placed them in Yoshiya’s hand.
“Eight…nine thousand…and three hundred fifty yen is your change. Is one tray all right?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Great. I’ll have your order ready in just a moment, so if I could have you step to the right…”
The moment she completed the order, the register’s touch screen shifted to a screen displaying her customers’ wait time. Her job was to put the entire order on the tray and bring it over to them before the display turned red. It was April, and the heater was still on at low speed. The dessert would have to come out last to keep it from melting.
Chiho checked to make sure there were no customers behind her friends, then stuck her head into the kitchen area. She was just in time to witness the gratin-pie part of Yoshiya’s Egg Gratin Burger getting flung into the fryer. Twenty seconds were all it took to fry it up. It then winged its way into a bun, where it was joined by a soft-boiled egg, some lettuce, and the mythical special sauce.
She figured she would begin constructing the tray with the fries, which were never as affected by room temperature as other items. She glanced over…
“!!”
…then changed tactics. Two sodas were filled and topped. She took the dessert out of the freezer, wiping the frost off the top. The gratin burger chose that exact time to trundle its way down the conveyor.
Chiho tapped the “Seat Wait” button on the wait-monitor screen, then placed the burger, drinks, dessert, and a plastic number panel on the tray.
“I apologize,” she said as she handed it to Kaori. “We’re working on a new batch of fries right now, so keep this number out and I’ll be happy to bring a fresh set to your table.”
“Ooh, nice. Good timing.”
Yoshiya couldn’t have been happier.
“All right. Enjoy your meal!”
“Yep.”
“Thanks, Sasachi.”
The two of them walked over to a table with surprisingly little complaint. Chiho found herself sneaking glances behind her shoulder through the whole process, but it didn’t seem like anything she did gave them a bad impression.
As she watched them take a faraway seat by the window, Maou sidled back up to her.
The Devil Is a Part-Timer!, Vol. 7 Page 18
