Chapter 1: Bartender

IN A CERTAIN red-light district in Tokyo Prefecture, there was a shop tucked just out of the way of the busy main streets. It was called Bar Zetto N, just a normal adult watering hole for the busy people of the area, with one special exception: the sign outside read “Liminals Welcome.” Places like it were still rare in Japan, so it soon built a reputation among liminals as a place to go for a good time.

More importantly, it was one of the businesses that opted into the Liminal Employment Pilot Program. As the sun set between the buildings, Kimihito, Miia, Rachnera, and Zombina opened the door and stepped inside.

“Welcome to our establishment, Kurusu-sama.” The thirty-something manager of the bar invited them in with a calm smile. Despite his slender build, it was clear he lifted—toned muscles were visible through his slim-cut suit and apron.

Kimihito bowed his head. “Thank you for having us. I’m sure the request to join the Employment Pilot Program was uncomfortably short notice.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! Bar Zetto N is always eager to facilitate cultural exchange with liminals—like the sign outside says. They’re our neighbors, so it’s important to be neighborly.”

“Thank you,” Kimihito repeated in relief. This was the first business they’d be working for, and he’d been worried there wouldn’t be much support, but the bar seemed genuinely happy to have them.

The other bars around the district had little more than counters to sit at and drink, but Zetto N had a lot of space, filled with upholstered chairs and sofas. The building was arranged so there was ample room for even the largest liminals to stretch out and enjoy themselves. It seemed accessibility had been a key consideration in its design.

“I’ve heard you’re hosting quite a few liminals in your home, Kurusu-sama. It’s impressive that someone so young is so proactive about cultural exchange,” the manager said warmly.

“Ha ha, well, it kind of just happened on its own.”

“Really? Well, even so, I appreciate your effort.” He gave a small, professional smile. “For today, I’ve taken care to only invite regulars who know we’ll have liminals working. That should allow you and the girls to relax and enjoy yourselves.”

“You’ve put so much effort into this.” Kimihito wasn’t used to this amount of forethought. But, that said… “Where are the girls, anyway?”

“They’re in the break room sorting out unifo—ah, here they come.”

Miia slithered out of the “employees only” door in full bartender regalia. She was already gorgeous under normal circumstances, but this formal outfit brought out a certain je ne sais quoi. She laughed gently. “What do you think of the new look, Darling? Does it suit me?”

“Y-yeah, you look great, Miia,” Kimihito managed.

“Hee hee…hooray! ♪ But it’s a little tight around the chest…” That was an understatement. The buttons on her white shirt must’ve barely closed in the first place, and under the constant strain of her breasts, were liable to burst right back open. The second from the top had already given in, and thanks to its weakness, her generous cleavage was in full view.

The manager bowed. “I’m terribly sorry for the issue. We hadn’t prepared any other clothes for lamia use. We’ll have to make do for today.”

“Not a problem, I’m fine!” She waved her hands in reply, completely unperturbed. “I just wanna start practicing. Come on, Darling, let’s find you a seat!”

“Huh?!” exclaimed Kimihito as Miia’s long tail lassoed him and yanked him over to the sofas.

Side by side on the seat, she pressed herself to him, breasts squishing against him, making it almost impossible to breathe. “So, Darling…what would you like to drink?”

“M-Miia—aren’t you too close—?”

“Am I? Aren’t I here to do customer service?” her voice fell to a soft hiss, “I’ll service you however you like, Darling, so what’ll it be?” She was as forward as ever, and Kimihito’s face was as red as ever too, a perfect match for her scales.

“Now there’s a lawsuit waiting to happen.”

“Hmph?!” Miia grunted, turning.

Strings flew from every direction, wrapping her long body in an elaborate pattern of white silk. Rachnera had returned from the back room.

“Hnngh! Hmm!!” Miia struggled against her binding.

Stepping the rest of the way through, Rachnera gave Miia an exasperated look. “You only sit next to your guest if it’s a cabaret club. Keep acting like that and you’ll bother Honey and the manager.” Rachnera always had a mature charm to her, and formal attire accentuated it, making her even more bewitching. Her shirt had the same sizing issue as Miia’s, several key buttons gaping to show her cleavage.

Kimihito swallowed. “Rachnee. You look…beautiful…too.”

“Oh! ♡” She allowed herself a tiny smile at the compliment. “You’re such a flatterer, Honey. Today I’m all business, but we could arrange a private showing later in my parlor.”

“Bwah!” Miia used her dexterous tail to pry the webbing from her mouth. “Hey! Who’s being forward now?! I knew you’d do something like this!!”

Rachnera clicked her tongue and looked aside. She was getting too predictable.

“Mnn.” Someone was already at the bar. “Whew—hic! That’s the stuff. Hey, what’s with the routine, anyway? Every time we hang out you’re fighting over Loverboy there. It’s like, calm down, have a drink.”

“Zombina! Are you supposed to be drinking?” Kimihito sputtered.

MON’s zombie member cackled at them and brandished the bottle she’d been sampling from. “Psssh, it’s fine, not like I can get drunk. Hard liquor sterilizes my tissues, so when you think about it, this is practically medicine. Cheers to my health!”

“No, I mean that it’s for paying customers!”

“I did pay for it!” She chugged the rest of the bottle. The composition of her zombie body protected it from any sort of rot or infection, so the stuff about sterilization was definitely an excuse. “Hey, manager, another bottle of gin!”

“Stop drinking!!” Kimihito shouted, anxiety coming back around. No one had arrived yet, and the bar was already getting wild. At this rate, we’re gonna join Zombina in the grave, he thought.

Despite the ruckus, the manager seemed totally serene. “It’s nice everyone’s so enthusiastic,” he said. “This’ll be an exciting atmosphere for the customers.”

Kimihito frowned in confusion. “Are you sure?”

“Everyone ready?” The manager almost radiated calm. “Bartending is about one thing: customer service. The drinks are important, sure, but what really matters is that the customer has an experience they can’t find anywhere else. If they’re looking for quiet contemplation, you don’t have to talk to them, and if they don’t want alcohol, you shouldn’t cajole them. Figure out what they’re here for and provide it.”

“Yes, sir!” Miia, Rachnera, and Zombina responded in natural unison. The manager’s healing presence had evaporated the tension between them in an instant. They fixed their clothes and prepared to work.

“Hee hee! Get ready to experience the best in bartending, Darling!” Miia said to Kimihito with a wink.

Rachnera winked at him, too. “After this is over, let’s share a drink, Honey.”

Kimihito’s presence was the key to their motivation, but of course, he was incapable of figuring that out on his own. He was just there to observe as their host. Though, as he thought about it, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself for the duration of the night. I can’t just sit and watch, can I?

A voice came seemingly from thin air behind him: “Kurusu-sama.”

“Y-yes?!” Kimihito started as he realized the manager had moved without warning.

“If you’re finding yourself idle, you could always lend them a hand.”

“Me?” He pointed at himself as if there were anyone else nearby.

The manager smiled and beckoned for Kimihito to follow, with a twinkle in his eye.

 

***

 

“I’m no pro at this,” Kimihito cautioned as he peeled potatoes for a mash. He’d been conscripted into kitchen prep, and despite his concerns, he had to admit that cooking for the girls had made him a reasonably competent sous-chef.

“Honey, you’re doing fine, especially since you hadn’t expected to help.” Rachnera was in the kitchen, too. The manager had given her a notebook of his handwritten cocktail recipes, which she nodded at occasionally as she read. “Should I speak to the manager?”

“Thank you for offering, but this is probably less stressful than waiting around.”

“If you say so.”

“How about you? Can you memorize all those drinks?”

Rachnera was quiet for a moment. Then she said, “I think I’ve got it figured out. The notes include the liquors, what glasses to use, and the measurements.”

“That’s our reliable Rachnee,” Kimihito said.

She laughed a bit, with an enigmatic smile. But it quickly dimmed, and she touched a hand to her forehead as if she was getting a headache. “The real problem is Miia. Her sense of taste is so wrong that she’s liable to mix poison. The customers’ll pass out at best, and the bar’ll be shut down.”

Her concerns about Miia made sense. “Should I give her a hand? Mixology is similar to cooking, right?”

“These are our jobs. We should be able to figure them out on our own.” She shuffled uncomfortably. “Miia’s trying her best, too. She might actually allow some of my advice into that strange little head of hers.”

“But—”

“I wonder, do you have a disease where you’ll die if you’re not taking care of anyone?” she interrupted with an accompanying side-eye.

“Uh.” He was tangled in her thread of logic and knew he wasn’t clever enough to escape.

She waved her hand to disperse some of the tension. “Just keep peeling your potatoes. I’m not much of a big sister if I can’t help everyone out sometimes.”

“You’ve got me there. I really do rely on you, Rachnee.” Kimihito sighed.

Her smile returned. “What a good boy you are.” Though the circumstances under which she’d entered Kimihito’s household were rather complicated, and their relationship could get violent, at heart she was a calming woman who excelled at taking care of people. Unsurprisingly, their chat had addressed all his concerns, and he almost felt like he could relax.

So, of course a shout from the front of house interrupted them. “Hey, Rachnera! Whenever I use this shaker, the drink gets bubbly and it goes everywhere! What do I do?”

Rachnera scowled and proceeded through to the bar. Her voice carried back to the kitchen: “I want to know what happened here, too! What could you have put in that drink to make it foam so much?!”

Would they really be okay? Kimihito stood numbly at his potato bench. He didn’t like to doubt her, but he knew there were some problems even reliable Rachnee couldn’t solve.

 

***

 

By the time the girls had learned a passable amount about bartending, Zetto N was ready to open for the night. Though Miia and Rachnera had been fighting like cats and dogs (or snakes and spiders, as it were), they settled as soon as there were customers in front of them. They even managed to cooperate on a few orders. Beneath the bickering, there was something compatible about the two girls, though they would never admit it.

“Welcome, welcome! For one night only, I’m here to serve as your own lamia bartender! Please approach the bar and place your order!” Miia’s affable personality could charm anyone, of course.

“What would you like?” Rachnera said, soothing people with her mature disposition. “One Samurai Rock? Of course, just a moment, I’ll make that for you. Where did I put that sake?” Her self-confidence hadn’t been misplaced—she could mix any drink on the menu without issue.

While the two of them handled the bar, Zombina worked the floor, from the tables to the sofas. “Hey, sorry for the wait; here’s a Red Eye and a mimosa.” Her signature cackle carried over the crowd. “Hm? What do I recommend? Don’t discern between flavors, myself, but how’s about a Shotgun? That’s tequila and sparkling water and—too strong? That’s the whole point!” By most standards of customer service, she was crass and impolite, but for some reason the clientele seemed to like her.

In fact, her crassness made some of them try to push boundaries. “Huh? A comedy routine?” She shrugged. “Dunno why I should, but whatever, here goes.” With a crack, she twisted her arm and broke her elbow so it pointed the wrong way.

Kimihito gaped despite himself and another customer screamed.

Without reacting to the scream, Zombina adjusted her broken arm to offer a short glass of liquor to the customer behind her. “Here’s your highball.” It looked like a morbid version of a contortionist’s performance.

The male werecat who’d suggested the comedy routine stared on in shock…until he came to grips with what had happened and started to cackle madly.

“Physical comedy might break your bones, but jokes’ll never hurt you, huh?” she quipped as a finisher. Despite the initial shock, her stylings had also managed to break the ice—the bar buzzed louder and louder.

“They’re so amazing,” Kimihito muttered.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Kurusu-sama. Have you worked in hospitality before?”

“Oh, no, nothing like this. I just do home cooking. Tomato soup’s up!” He passed the order out from the kitchen. A line of appetizers-in-progress sat across his section of the bench. Is it okay to do this when I’m not an employee? I guess if it’s supporting the girls… Maybe he was going a bit too far on the dishes, but it wasn’t hurting anyone.

Smith herself had told him to help the girls as best he could under whatever circumstances they found themselves in. She’d pointed her finger and said, “If there’s a problem with the customers, it’s on you to save the day, Darling-kun! It’s no trouble if you fight another human, so you’re there to throw the first punch!”

He’d done it before, so he supposed he could do it again. There had been a man outside a love hotel who had insulted Miia, and Kimihito had landed a real king cobra hit on him. Smith had played fixer that time too, but she couldn’t fix his discomfort over the incident.

It didn’t compare to how bad he’d feel if he didn’t protect his homestay girls. Cooking for them and assisting them on their adventures suited his personality more than fighting, but when push came to shove, he knew he’d jump into the fray for them.

Perfectly flipping the rolled omelet in front of him, he exhaled in relief. It’ll be okay.

 

***

 

Things were not okay. Particularly with Rachnera, who struggled to handle her own orders while preventing Miia from ruining hers. Her motherly streak had become her doom.

“Careful, Miia. Don’t forget to use the measuring cups. Eyeballing it won’t work. Check the brand before you pour. The recipe book is right here. The manager would want us to follow it.” Rachnera slung a web at the liquor shelves and tugged a bottle into her hand.

Miia flicked the tip of her tail into the shelves and took a different bottle. “Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, “10 milliliters, 20 milliliters, it’s basically the same! Measuring is pointless!”

“Hey, the customers can hear. Did you forget you screwed up an order already?”

“Come onnn!”

“Keep making mistakes and even our beloved Honey will get tired of it,” Rachnera said, trying to be motivational. She shook a cocktail shaker with a practiced hand.

“Ugh, fine. I’ll do my best!”

Since Kimihito had seen Rachnera get drunk off coffee before, she hoped success here would help restore her reputation. That meant making no mistakes, correcting as many of Miia’s mistakes as possible, and making full use of her innate caretaking abilities.

“Yo.” The bell on the front door rang to signal a new customer. Rather than waiting to be shown a seat, she swept in and took an empty stool at the bar. “I’m completely beat. I got sent mountain climbing as punishment for staying out without permission—how did that kobold stay so energetic the whole way?! I need something really strong tonight.”

“Oh, my,” Rachnera said, and a toothy smile spread across her face. “Is that Lilith? We didn’t even speak of the devil first.”

“H-huh?! Wh-what?! Mistress Rachnera?!” This customer didn’t look nearly old enough to drink, but her unusual eyes were full evidence that she wasn’t human.

Yes, it was Lilith, Rachnera’s demon friend. She wasn’t part of their household, but she’d caused problems there often enough and had even been “disciplined” by Rachnera once, after she’d almost brought harm to Kimihito. Whether Rachnera’s disciplinary measures were too harsh, they’d at least convinced Lilith to behave like a good little girl in their presence—not that any of those words applied to the young-looking adult demon.

“Why—when did you start working here, Miss Rachnera?”

“It’s just a favor for Smith. Don’t I look nice in the uniform, though?” She raised her arms and did a half-turn to show off.

“Yes, mistress,” her voice fell to a gentle, flirty tone, nothing like how she’d yelled as she entered. “Lovely as ever.”

It seemed that, though Rachnera had let Lilith free from their bondage session, some of the webs remained wrapped around her heart. “Well, what would you like to drink?” she asked.

“Oh, gosh, um…do you have any sweet, cute cocktails, maybe…?” She was really overdoing the adorable act.

“An El Diablo, then,” Rachnera replied, businesslike.

“Mmmh!” Lilith moaned at the mere name of the tequila-based cocktail. “A sexy, brusque older woman serving drinks really hits different.”

“Nobody else gets the brusque treatment.” That said, she honored Lilith’s earlier request and was generous with the liquor as she got to mixing.

“Lilith, you drink?” Miia asked.

“Hey! I’m here more often than you, snake woman! I’m a bona fide regular.” Lilith’s temper flared immediately in response.

“Wow, rude.”

“Ask the manager, I’m here all the time. Gimme the usual pizza, too.”

“Already done.” Kimihito came out of the kitchen in his apron with the pizza in hand. “You sure get along with him, don’t you?”

Lilith groaned. “And Miss Rachnera’s host is here, too.”

“Yeah. Rachnee would be fine without me, but I’ve got responsibilities, too.” He raised an eyebrow. “Wait, do you have permission to be here?”

“Of course. I’m getting pretty tired of punishments, so I made sure this time.” As soon as he set the pizza in front of her, she snatched a slice and shoved it whole into her mouth.

“Are you in the neighborhood often, Lilith?” Rachnera interjected.

“Oh, Miss Rachneraaa! I am! There are sooo many perverted old men in the red-light district. I make a lot of pocket money from them.” Her disposition changed again.

“That’s quite an admission,” Rachnera said diplomatically.

Had Lilith noticed that Zombina—from MON—was working behind her? She was busy with a customer, sure, but she kept glancing back at the bar. Someone’s getting a talking-to later. With any luck that’d be all she got. There could be real penalties if MON were in the wrong mood after the job placement experiment.

“Anyhoo. That’s how I found this bar. And now that I know you’re working here, I’ll be coming even more often!” Lilith said, resting her face in her hands and gazing adoringly at Rachnera.

“I’m just here for the night.” Rachnera slid the glass to Lilith. “Here’s your El Diablo.”

Lilith leapt at the glass and lifted it reverently to her lips. “Ohhh. Handmade with love by Miss Rachnera.” She drained it in one. “Ahhh! That hits the spot. Booze is the best! To booze!”

Rachnera sighed. “You’re as two-faced as ever.”

It was an obscenely strong cocktail, but that was perfect for a demon like Lilith. “For my kind, it’s sooo much more comfortable when there’s some discomfort, though. A lack of public safety.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, Miss Rachnera. Japan is almost too safe for us! Though that lowers people’s guard and makes it easier to spring bad stuff on ’em.” She gave a tiny, dreamy sigh. Demons might appear to do what they pleased, damn the consequences, but Lilith had previously proven capable of concern. The fact that she hadn’t shown any at the idea of being caught for her misdeeds was troubling.

Zombina watched from among the crowd with sharp eyes. At least Lilith can’t cause trouble here, Kimihito mused.

Miia sidled into the conversation, messily shaking her next order. “How about this area? How safe is it here?” she asked Lilith.

“We’re close to the border between two prefectures, right? Which means it gets a lot of—not serious yakuza or anyone actually scary, but small-timers who wanna throw some weight around. Punks like that.”

“This bar feels so high-class, though.”

Lilith ripped apart the pizza and spoke through the mess of tomato and cheese: “Yeah, ’cause Master keeps it classy. Why d’you think I come here?”

Kimihito couldn’t help but wonder if the reason she knew so much about the underworld was because she was a demon. Before he could finish that thought, though, he was interrupted by a commotion out in the street.

“Sir, please stop,” the manager said, wedged firmly in the doorway.

Kimihito turned to look and saw that he was blocking a customer from entering the bar. A huge, red-faced man with an impressive mohawk loomed in the entrance. Even from a distance, the sheen on his nose and cheeks made it clear he’d been drinking.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed tonight for a private event. My apologies.” The manager made it clear he wouldn’t budge.

The man was unfazed. “You’re open, so let me drink! The evening’s barely started!” With a single giant hand, he pushed past the manager and entered the bar. Big as he was, everything else about him made it clear he was one of Lilith’s small-time punks. “Check it out! Empty seats and everything!” Sauntering around like he owned the place, he picked a free sofa and collapsed into it.

He’d left the smell of cheap beer in his wake, and now the other customers’ moods were rapidly turning.

“Ooh, you got nice girls with big titties on tap today, huh? Hey, girl! You one of them lime—limey—lime animals? Gimme a drink, now!”

“Excuse me?” Miia’s voice went colder than her blood, taking a tone Kimihito had never heard before.

“Seriously…?” Rachnera sighed.

“He’s gotta be kiddin’,” Zombina said.

The trio glared at the punk, who didn’t seem to understand how much trouble he’d landed himself in, and just laughed in response. “C’mon! It’s your job to serve customers!”

“What kind of place does he think this is?” Kimihito gaped at the man. Maybe he was so drunk he’d mistaken it for a different type of bar—this was the red-light district, after all. Kimihito never would’ve agreed to let the girls work here if it were that kind of place, though.

“Terribly sorry, everyone, but if this continues, I’m calling the police,” the manager said. Though he’d physically withdrawn, his eyes remained hard. He was determined to get this man out of his bar at any cost.

“Miia, feel free to stay in the back for a while,” Kimihito told her quietly.

She smiled in response. “Hey, Darling?” If her smile was usually megawatt gorgeous, this one was as blindingly beautiful as the sun—which Kimihito suddenly realized meant she was furious. “Leave that customer to me.”

“No. No. No way. What’re you going to do to him?”

“Would it be better for Spidey or Zombina to handle it?”

He paused. “Huh.”

“Hey! What’re you whispering with him about? Why bother with that shrimp when there’s a big catch over here?” the punk yelled, patting the seat beside him.

“Hmm. ‘Shrimp’?” Kimihito muttered to himself.

Miia’s smile was interrupted by her lips twitching. She was about to go off.

“Looks like you want to handle this,” Rachnera said. “Go give him the help he deserves, Miia.”

“R-Rachnee…” Kimihito said.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got her covered. Let us take care of this, won’t you, Honey?” Rachnera said with a wink. It wasn’t clear what the girls had planned, but they seemed confident.

“That’s right, Darling. Leave it to us.” Miia slid from behind the bar and slithered towards the punk.

Kimihito watched, frozen in place.

“Aw, you’re worried.” Zombina slapped his shoulder from behind. “Worse comes to worst, I’ve got a solution prepared.” She adjusted her suit jacket to show—a handgun?! Was it real? Zombina was skilled with a gun, sure, but it was against the Interspecies Cultural Exchange Accord for her to harm humans. It must be a fake she carries to intimidate people, Kimihito reasoned. Yeah. It’s got to be.

“Miia,” he said to himself as he watched her approach the punk with that fake smile plastered on her face. As bright as it was, he could tell that was just the scorching hate within.

“’Ssscuse me,” Miia hissed as she slid into the spot he’d indicated, “I’m Miia. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Concerned that their presence would start a fight, the manager escorted Kimihito back through to the kitchen where he could watch discreetly over the serving counter. Then, he took his position at the register to process the mass exodus of customers.

“It seems they have some sort of plan,” he said quietly to Kimihito through the kitchen door.

“Do they, sir? This is bad, and it doesn’t seem to be getting better.”

“Hmm…” The manager gripped his chin thoughtfully. “It’s better if we don’t get the police involved. Everyone’ll be happier if that man leaves of his own accord, and whatever Miia has in mind is likely our best shot.” He tried to reassure him with a shallow nod and a forced smile.

Kimihito nodded back. In addition to the manager’s reasons, failure to resolve this situation would be a failure of the work experience trial as a whole. That would reflect badly on everyone involved. They had to trust the girls to get through this.

The punk reached for his whiskey—but at the last minute, he moved his arm behind Miia’s shoulders instead. That trick was too old to work on her; before he completed the motion, she caught his arm and put it back at his side.

“Bastard—!” Kimihito stuck his torso through the serving window, prepared to leap out and throw down. Under the Interspecies Cultural Exchange Accord, Miia couldn’t harm the punk—but Kimihito could and would. Whatever doubts he’d had were gone. They’d settle this humano-a-mano.

Or would they? He noticed Rachnera moving in his periphery, shaking her head slowly. She seemed to be saying, “Don’t step in, Honey. ♡ Control yourself.”

Meanwhile, the punk continued to try to touch Miia, but she was way too fast for him, snaking from his grasp or returning his wayward limbs to him politely. “Aw, c’mon,” he protested, “when do I get the goods?” His anger was returning as he realized this wasn’t a cute game of keep-away.

“Oh? Weren’t we clear? This is a normal bar—no touching allowed.” Miia responded. Her smile never faltered, but it also never reached her eyes.

Not that the punk noticed that or her unprecedented tone of voice that sounded like she was talking to a precious, disobedient pet. That tone might’ve been the biggest sign she’d reached a transcendental level of anger.

“Sure, sure, but aren’t all you monster girls here looking to get married?” the punk asked.

“I suppose~” Miia replied.

“Then how ’bout it? Do a good job, and I’ll marry you! You’ve just gotta let me touch those titties, Miss Lamia!”

Miia went completely silent. That was it. She’d ascended to a higher plane of rage.

Yes, there was a hot springs resort where liminals and host families could apply to be matched together. Kimihito had even assisted its proprietor, a Yuki-Onna, once. But the idea that all monster girls were here to find husbands was an insulting stereotype. For a liminal who came to study abroad, their relationship to their host family was vital, which was why a proper matching service for finding the right partnership between them was so important. Besides, she already had that sort of bond with Kimihito. Although…

Smith-san did tell me I’d have to marry one of my guests, Kimihito recalled. That was a completely different situation, though—totally different from going into a normal bar and harassing the employees like this. If he wanted to treat this ordinary bar like it was a brothel, he couldn’t be surprised when he got kicked out on his ass. So why hadn’t anyone done that yet? Why wasn’t Miia crushing that punk like an empty can?

“Oh gosh, what should we do?” Miia faked confusion for a moment, before sticking her pointer finger in the air. “I know! How about a drinking game? If you win, you can touch me however you’d like. Interested?”

You’ve gotta be kidding me! Kimihito screamed in his head. What is she thinking?!

The punk just laughed. “Yeah, hey, why not?! I can hold my liquor though, Miss. You’d better be prepared to keep your promise!”

“Of course! But, sir, if I win, you’ll have to pay for both our drinks. Fair?”

“Ha ha ha ha ha! She’s got moxie! That’s how a woman should be. Hey, spider lady, can we get two tequilas?”

Rachnera took the order in silence and prepared two glasses. She was clearly just as furious, but she’d agreed to let Miia take charge, so she didn’t interfere. Zombina delivered the drinks, and the punk accepted them happily, not seeming to notice the dangerous looks from every staff member in the joint.

“Cheeeeeers!” Miia sang.

The two of them downed their glasses in unison, and though Kimihito had heard that tequila was some of the strongest liquor out there, they both reacted like it was water.

“Huh, that’s right. Yeah, that guy’s famous around here. Not many people with mohawks like that,” Lilith piped up as Miia and the punk called for their next round.

“Lilith!” Kimihito snapped around to look to her. “You’re still here?!”

She was staring at the punk like he was the lowest of the low, even by her standards. “He wanders the cabaret clubs and bars around here. He gets the female employees drunk, then molests them while their guards are down. It’s become a big problem.”

“Shouldn’t he get in trouble for that?”

“Places keep banning him. I bet he came here because he’s got nowhere left to go. He’s the worst kind of garbage.” Her eyes narrowed into an intense glare.

The punk and Miia had made it to their second shots of tequila. If what Lilith was saying was true, Miia’s offer of a drinking contest was the perfect cover for his usual MO.

Kimihito’s jaw clenched as he watched. “I’ve got to stop this.”

“If you went out there now, you’d just make it worse,” Lilith said. “Miss Rachnera can step in if she needs help. Watch yourself, human.”

“Ugh,” was all Kimihito had to say about that. He watched Miia and the punk drain their third shots with fists clenched in preparation.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Miia drink before. None of the girls drank much, but he was especially surprised to see Miia knocking them back like this. She was several shots deep, but she seemed fine. Is she really okay, though?

“It’s not healthy to drink on an empty stomach,” Miia said gently, like a mother chastising a child. “Why not order some food?”

“O-okay… I’ll have a snack,” replied the punk.

“Zombina, can you bring us some mixed nuts? Thanks!” Her cheer was less forced than before, the alcohol lifting her mood, but there was still tension underneath. She was stuck beside a no-good punk, and she had to either outdrink him or let him touch her… Of course she was feeling stressed and uncomfortable.

And besides all that, her darling Kimihito was watching all this. She knew he’d be impressed if she handled this herself, but, ugh, talk about a big obstacle to a successful work experience. She glared at the punk when he turned away—the man was a mess, his personality was awful, and despite his boasts he was wildly unappealing. He couldn’t hope to compare to Kimihito. He was lucky she hadn’t destroyed him yet.

For now, though, she’d make the best of it. If she could get rid of this customer peacefully, she would totally outshine Rachnera—and Centorea, too. This plan had to work.

Kimihito was much too nervous to understand what she was doing, but of course Miia didn’t realize that.

“Sooo, why’s a monster girl working, anyway?” the punk asked.

“It’s a work experience test program, so we’re trying out some jobs,” Miia replied.

“Huh. That’s nice. You’re s’posed to be kinda stupid, so it’d be cool if some of you got jobs at the cabaret clubs. Yeah, there’d be no problem getting you to drink, then I can do whatever I want.”

“I see.” Her eyes widened at his speciesist, sexist comments, but she shoved the anger down and refused to let herself respond. If she could, she would constrict him until his bones warped and broke, but she knew she couldn’t do that. The Interspecies Cultural Exchange Accord wouldn’t let her. That was why she’d devised this roundabout plan to get him drunk in the first place. Shoving aside her murderous desires, she drank another shot. “Mmm! Yeah, that’s good!”

“H-hey now, girlie, haven’t you hit your limit yet? You’ve sure had a lot.”

“Oh? I’m doing perfectly fine, thanks! But what about you, sir? Your face is so red—maybe you should quit before you’re too wasted?”

“Huh?!” he snarled, suddenly aggressive. “Don’t look down on me! I got this!” He downed another shot and caught up with her.

Miia watched, completely calm and collected, as he overshot his limits. Zombina and Rachnera stared in shock at how well she was holding her liquor. Though arachne were immune to alcohol, a single cup of coffee could knock Rachnera out, so seeing Miia take shot after shot of tequila without any consequences was mind-blowing.

“Ngh—ugh—this is weird,” the punk gurgled, unable to focus his eyes.

“Hm? What’s weird, sir?” Miia asked him and giggled. Before he could reply, she downed another shot. “Your turn! If you don’t hurry up and drink, I’ll be the winner.”

“Hurgh…th-this has gotta be a trick. Y-yeah, you’re just drinkin’ water! That’s why—I’m so—”

“Oh? Let’s test your theory! Rachnee, two shots of tequila!” Zombina already had them ready. “Pick whichever you’d like, sir,” Miia offered.

“Damn…” The punk grabbed the glass on Miia’s side like he was stealing it. He brought it to his lips. “Hhhgh!” he coughed it right back out. “This ain’t water!”

“Nope! Why not drink it? Shot! Shot! Shot!” Miia mockingly cheered him on, with Zombina clapping along.

The punk groaned and drank. He teetered visibly from side to side.

“Awwwright, my turn!” Miia took hers. “Delicious!”

“Y-you’ve gotta be cheating. I can’t lose, not in a drinking contest—”

“Maybe not against a human. Liminal girls might be ‘stupid,’ but lamia like me are also famously good at drinking.”

“Gh—! Damn it!” The punk, boiling over, made a grab for Miia.

Zombina lurched to intercept, reaching into her cleavage for her gun—

But she had no chance to draw it. “Sorry, sir!” Miia dodged an inch to the side, and the punk fell face-first on the floor. A few silent moments passed, and then snores rose from the heap on the ground. It was a knockout without a single punch thrown.

“Manager, maybe we should call this customer an ambulance. I’m worried about his health,” Miia chirped.

The manager appeared from the back. “Oh, I’ve already called for one.”

Miia’s beloved darling, her Kimihito, followed the manager into the room. “Miia! Are you all right? Did he do anything to you?” he asked, looking her over.

“I’m just fine! Ha ha ha! How did I do?” Miia writhed with pride. She’d dealt with the situation on her own, and she hadn’t even broken any Accord bylaws in the process.

Despite her confident reply, Kimihito needed to look her over and verify for himself that she was okay. Only after he did that could he let himself sigh in relief. “I can’t believe you had a drinking contest with him. I was terrified.”

“You were worried about me? Oh, Darling, that’s so cute.” She wrapped her arms around him in a hug—but with her so close, he could tell her breath reeked of alcohol. If not for that, he never would’ve believed that she’d just drunk a giant man under the table.

“You stink,” Rachnera said to the unconscious form of the punk, wrapping him up in her webbing. “Don’t get so close to Honey while you’re in that state.” She hoisted him to the rafters and then relieved him of his wallet to pay back the cost of the alcohol he and Miia drank.

As Miia held Kimihito and whispered reassurances to him, the smell of alcohol spread further in the air. “Hey, you can really hold your liquor can’t you, Miia?” he observed.

“W-well, yeah.” Her tail wound itself around him, too, as her desire to hold him overwhelmed her. Only now did her face start to turn red—entirely unrelated to the drinking. How could someone who’d pulled off such a ballsy stunt get shy at a simple embrace?

“Do you…like to drink?”

“Oh, no, not really. I drink every once in a while, but I don’t like it that much.” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“But you just drank—how many shots was that?” He was curious, but his tone stayed gentle, trying not to pressure her.

“That’s, um.” She pressed her fingertips together shyly. “I can drink a lot, for sure, but I didn’t want to be drunk in front of you. It’s kind of embarrassing, and I was worried I’d look like an alcoholic or I’d pass out like Rachnera did. I’d rather stay cute and sweet around you, Darling.”

“I’m right here,” Rachnera said.

Miia ignored her. “That’s why I don’t drink at home.”

Kimihito considered. “That makes sense, I guess. But you can feel free to drink if you want to, really.”

“I don’t want to very often,” she said, “but we’re at this beautiful bar tonight, so I’d like to spend some time here together if we can.”

“W-well, I think—” Kimihito looked for the manager, but he was already outside collecting the signboards. A moment later he ducked back inside.

“All the customers I invited have gone home, which means we’re closing now. If you’d like to spend a little longer here you’re welcome. I imagine it was quite a trip to get here.”

“Really?” Miia squeezed Kimihito in joy. “Thank you, sir! Isn’t this exciting, Darling?”

“Miia! That hurts!” he cried.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry! Are you okay?” She immediately relaxed her hold on him, but there were scale marks left all over his arms and legs, like she’d stamped him red, too.

He was used to it. With a little wave, he indicated he was fine.

“Hey! Don’t just flirt with each other! Honey, c’mon, it’s our turn to drink.” Rachnera complained as she finished with the punk.

Zombina joined in. “I could do with a nightcap,” she said, stretching her arms overhead to remove some of the tension from carrying trays all night. She grinned and flashed her sharp teeth.

Lilith hadn’t moved an inch, but now she turned to the manager. “Can I stay a while?” Her tail curled around her quizzically.

“Of course, Miss Lilith,” he responded with a bow.

The punk had ruined her relaxation, and everyone else’s mood, too. Kimihito mulled the night over. The girl’s first job experience… I was pretty worried, and yeah, it could’ve gone better. Miia led him over to a seat at the bar. But we’re all having a good time in the end. I’m glad we did this. He breathed a sigh of relief.

 

***

 

“Here you go, Honey,” Rachnera said, offering him a cocktail. “Sorry for the wait. It’s a Kir.”

“Thanks, Rachnee.” He took the wine glass and sipped. It was white wine with crème de cassis mixed in, and as the comfortable flavor of the black currant liqueur washed over him, he smiled. The glass had a small spider web, weaved by Rachnera herself, stuck to the side. It looked almost like a high-class glass etching.

“Mmn, ahh!” In the seat next to him, Miia gulped another shot of tequila. Hasn’t she had enough? Kimihito wondered.

Rachnera was nursing a coffee-based cocktail behind the bar. “A reward for a job well done,” she said.

“I guess,” he replied. Tomorrow, he’d continue the work experience pilot program at a different site with a different group. With any luck, it would go much more smoothly.

“I’ll be sure to tell Smith-san how well you all did.” The manager commented as he cleaned a glass behind the bar.

Zombina grinned. “Yeah! Tell her how badly we owned that punk who broke in. I bet we’ll get a bonus for it!”

“Yay, Darling! We’ll get paid!” Miia wrapped herself around Kimihito again.

“Guh!” Kimihito blurted. She was even more touchy-feely than usual, probably because she’d been drinking. He always thought he’d gotten used to it until her huge lamia body slammed into him again.

“Miia, let go of him,” chastised Rachnera.

“No!” Miia protested.

“You lush.” She sighed in exasperation. “Honey, wouldn’t you rather spend time with me? Haven’t I done a perfect job bartending?”

“You’re the lush!”

“I’m not even tipsy yet.” She leaned over the counter to whisper in Kimihito’s ear. “Say, Honey…why don’t you give some thought to who you’d like to marry? Since we’re all relaxed here together, it might be fun for you to tell me where you’re at, don’t you think?”

“Rachnera!” Miia shouted, close enough to have heard. “Cheater! Don’t you dare take advantage of this situation! And it doesn’t matter anyway, because Darling’s going to marry me!”

“Who doesn’t dream of having a drunk for a wife?” Rachnera snarked.

“Says the girl who gets drunk on coffee,” Miia hissed, trying to be intimidating.

Ugh… Kimihito was still helplessly wrapped in Miia’s tail. So much for teamwork; back to biting each other’s throats out. Then, out of nowhere, some things came together in his mind. “Hey, you two seemed pretty excited about the job opportunity. Why was that? Is there something you want to buy with the pay?”

The fight between them abruptly stopped. Miia and Rachnera looked each other in the eyes, and an understanding passed between them, though Kimihito wasn’t privy to what it was.

“That’s a secret,” they chimed in unison.

“Huh?” Kimihito had no answers and more questions. In an instant, they’d gone from at each other’s throats to giggling like best friends. He didn’t get it, couldn’t get it, and wouldn’t get it unless they decided to explain.

“Ahh, youth,” Zombina laughed, and Lilith clicked her tongue dismissively.

What’s going on? Kimihito wondered with apprehension.

Soon they all relaxed again, secure in the knowledge that they’d done a good job and that their test was a success. Miia and Rachnera spent the rest of the night enjoying their drinks, the quiet atmosphere, and the chance to be close to Kimihito.