When Reika and Renji got caught in the rain during an errand, their soaked clothes clung to them like second skin. They scrambled for shelter and found themselves standing in front of a love hotel. Renji, ever the sly one, glanced at the neon sign and smiled. Reika tilted her head, genuinely confused about the building’s purpose.
“It’s a rest facility for couples,” Renji explained casually. Then, with a teasing glint in his eye, he added, “Ah… if only you were my girlfriend. We could rest here.”
The words hung in the humid air.
But here’s the twist: Renji is Reika’s master, and she is his devoted maid. Their relationship is built on respect, and formality. Renji longs for something more, a lover’s embrace, not just a servant’s loyalty. Reika, however, clings fiercely to her role. Being a maid is her identity, her pride, her shield against the vulnerability true intimacy demands.
So when he looks at her with that hopeful, she feels the rain inside her chest. Not cold, but heavy. Because she knows what he wants. And she knows what she’s supposed to say.
But for just a moment, standing there drenched and shivering, the line between master and lover blurs.
Will she step over it? Or will the rain wash the moment away before it begins?
