CHAPTER ONE:
the beginning of good luck...?
_

She could barely feel anything: from the numbness of her fingers, to the ice in her chest. It was hard to even distinguish the steady pumping of blood in her veins from the shortness of her breath.

There was something pressed on her back, she could tell. The pressure seemed to vary from one second to another. She could also hear the faint, muted sound of a voice - or maybe two of them.

Someone said something, although she could only hear a few words: "Are... sure... big... -ther? We're in... sight! If we are... people will... we're creeps!" The person's voice kept fluctuating from a high pitched, nervous voice, to a lower, mumbling voice.

Someone else, whose voice was deeper and a lot more cynical, chuckled. "Don't worry... will see."

A grunting noise from the other voice was the only response.

Something took hold of her shirt (or maybe it was a sweater?), and began pulling her up. She let out a pathetic sound, but didn't bother trying to open her eyes. Almost immediately though, the person holding her let go, and her forehead hit the ground with a dull thud.

"He-hey, is she- is she awake?" the first man asked, a tremble in his voice.

"Who cares!" the second, abrasive man snapped. "Look, just move! I'll do it!"

He must have shoved the other man, because there was a startled squeak, and then hands roughly grabbed her by the arms.

"Don't- don't hurt her... It'd already be hard enough to get away with theft if we get caught, so if they see us hurting her..."

"Shut up." The second man began the process of rolling her over. "We can always say we're searching for an ID or a phone to call her parents." Suddenly, as he finally managed to put her face up, he froze. "Wait."

"W-what is it?"

There was a moment of cold anger, ready to explode.

"You told me she was a teenager!" the abrasive man exploded, letting go of her arms. "That's a little girl!"

A startled squeak, and some shuffling clothes noises later, and the first man whimpered out: "No... no! I, I swear she was supposed to be a teenager! I checked, I swear!"

"Well," the second man's voice had gotten cold with fury, "apparently, you didn't do well enough. You know I don't do this shit to grade schoolers. Only thirteen and above with me."

"I-... brother... I... But, look at her clothes...!"

"Shut... UP!" the second man's breathing had become ragged, now. "We have to go. She's already on the verge of waking up."

"I, I already took some of her things though...!"

"Whatever! Let's just go, you stupid...! Ugh." A sigh. "Just, hurry up."

"G-got it!"

There was a lot of cloth ruffling then. She could hear some whispers from the men, but couldn't figure out what they were saying exactly.

"HEY!"

Was someone else here? Why had they screamed like that...?

"Shit!" The ruffling from the men came tenfold, as a new set of footsteps came running toward them. "Go! Go!"

The two ran away, the sound of their footsteps rapidly disappearing, while the new person came to a stop next to her prone form. It took a moment for them to catch their breath.

"Hey, little girl... are you alright?" the person - a young male, going by his voice - asked, crouching down next to her. He took her pulse, pressing his (rather cold) fingers against her neck.

She feebly tried to open her eyes, but then gave up; it was much too bright for her taste.

"Aren't your clothes a bit too large?" he asked, sounding puzzled. "Your pockets are empty, too... Hey, little girl, are you awake?"

She forced herself to make a small noise in the back of her throat.

"Are your eyes hurt?"

She huffed, and tried to open her eyes once more, but only managed to open them a bit. Because the light burned her eyes, though, it took her quite some time to open them even only half of the way.

"I'm gonna call the police, alright? Do you need an ambulance, too? Blink once for yes, and twice for no."

Even as she blinked once, she hesitated. Did she really need an ambulance? Apart from the pain in her eyes and the numbness spreading in her whole body, she couldn't decern anything that spelled trouble.

The teenager must have taken it as is, because he instantly called an ambulance.

She rolled her head to the side, trying to focus her sight on the person who was helping her: it appeared to be a teenager with fair skin and short, brown hair. Her vision was swimming, though, so it was hard to really discern anything specific.

Relying heavily on her arms and elbows, she pushed herself into a sitting position, the teenager helping her along the way, while still talking on the phone.

She opened her mouth to say something, but was surprised to find that her throat was dry as the desert, and ended up coughing her lungs out. She could also taste something in the back of her throat - something akin to blood, but with the texture of flour.

"Are you alright?" the teenager asked, gently rubbing her back. "Don't force yourself to talk."

She nodded slowly, and slumped against the teenager's side. Now that she was more aware of her own body, she noticed everything hurt like hell: burning, prickling, and a searing pain in the small of her back.

Black was starting to edge on her vision.

"Don't worry," the teenager said suddenly, voice soft but concerned, "help is on the way."

She looked up at the teenager, but was still unable to say anything. She wanted to ask for help - but, help was already on the way, wasn't it?

She let out a slow breath, curled onto herself a bit more, and fell asleep.

—

Waking up was an adventure on its own.

Now that her head was clear, Ada could see the situation she was in: she had woken up in some dark place, hurt and alone, with someone going through her pockets.

But the worst was that... she couldn't remember anything about herself - oh, well, that was an exaggeration. She could remember her name — or at least what she thought was her name, but maybe it was the name of someone else — her gender, and that she was probably about 16 — maybe two years younger or older?

The thing to keep in mind here was... she was sure— 100% sure, that she was above 12. And yet...

Judging by the look of her little hands, she was in the body of a child, a little girl who looked to be 10 years old at the very most. But it didn't make sense! It just didn't! It couldn't!

How could she be kindergarten-age when she could remember what middle school was like...?

Not only that... She hadn't really been able to see much, but... her reflection in the mirror... didn't look like her at all.

To be entirely honest, it looked like nothing human. At first, Ada had thought that the mirror was broken, but upon closer inspection, the glass itself was fine, and only her reflection was broken up into shards — the reflections of the sink and the shower were completely fine. However, as soon as she stepped into view of the mirror, it seemed like the glass fragmented, splitting up.

Ignoring how eerie that looked, Ada had spent hours trying to determine what her face looked like. She couldn't remember what she looked like, but she just knew that she did not look like that. Her face was all wrong — a spot of freckle that she was sure hadn't existed, the softness of her cheeks, the round shape of her chin... even the color of her hair (a sandy blonde) wasn't right!

Was she in someone else's body? Had she stolen a little girl's body?

There was the mystery of her circumstances, too. What had happened, that night, when those two guys had been going through her pockets? Why had her body hurt so much? Obviously, something supernatural was going on. Forgetting the whole misplaced body event, her shattered reflection spoke of something greater than just amnesia.

"You were found on the streets," a rather unsympathetic nurse told her. "I'm sorry to say, sweetheart, that you will have to go to an orphanage as soon as you get better."

Ada tried to ignore those words, because their meaning made her too angry, too sad. She couldn't possibly think of the orphanage.

Instead, she spent her days staring out the window, thinking about the cool of fresh air in her lungs and the warmth of the sunlight on her skin.

And every night, Ada inexplicably thought of the sea that stretched until the horizon, of the sound of the shore, of the waves that lulled her to sleep, and of the sound of shattering glass.

—

"Little girl, there's a man for you here," a nurse told her, a few days later, sotto voce. "He claims to be your uncle. He's come with social service. Are you alright with them coming in?"

She blinked in surprise. An uncle? She didn't remember ever having an uncle: as far as she could recall, her mother had only had a sister, and her father had been an only child. But then again, her memory was a little bit fuzzy — scratch that, a lot fuzzy.

"Sweetheart?"

"They can—" She cleared her throat. "They can come in, I guess," she said, fingers finding the cover over her lap.

The nurse smiled sweetly, nodded, and walked out, leaving the door open.

Seconds later, a tall, lean man entered the room, his face set in a cool but welcoming smile. He seemed to have been wisened by age, his hair going grey in some places, and smile wrinkles forming around his eyes.

Behind him came a young woman, her hair tied in a neat bun, and rectangular glasses perched on her nose. Going by the files in her hands, she was the social service lady. The black and white of the man's suit clashed with the bright colors of the young woman.

"Good morning, young lady," the woman greeted her, smiling begningly. "My name is Hitoshi Ema. How are you doing?"

"I— I'm fine," she said, eyes stuck on the man.

He wasn't looking, though. Instead, he had gone to close the door behind them. For now, his back was turned toward them. When he turned, he caught her eye, and gave her a secretive smile. Fondness was evident on his face.

"Now, Kotone-san," Ms Hitoshi said, turning to the man. "How about we—"

The man, Mr Kotone laid a hand on her forearm. "There is absolutely nothing I need to prove," he said softly, looking at the lady in the eyes with his own sorrowful gaze. "Her name is Kotone Nana, and she is my sister's daughter, isn't she?"

There was a pause, as the miss looked at him, brows furrowed. "It isn't that simple, Kotone-san. We haven't found any papers indicating she indeed is your niece so—"

"Isn't she?"

"I—" Ms Hitoshi began, but it was as if a switch had been flipped. Her eyes were blank and unfocused, staring at the man.

"Isn't she?"

There was a moment of silence — terrifying for Ada, and very much telling for the situation.

"Well?" Mr Kotone raised a brow. "Am I right or wrong?"

"You're right," Ms Hitoshi said slowly, her eyes almost closing. "I need... to go... I will fix... the files for you..."

The social service agent slowly got up, and stumbling to the door, but Ada was too frozen to do anything but stare at the empty spot she had been in.

As soon as the lady left the room, the man turned toward her, face going back to being impassive. He sat on the chair at her bedside.

"Pack up your things, dear," he said curtly, turning back toward the door. "I think we have wasted enough time as is."

Ada stayed frozen, though. "W-what did you do to her?" She chanced a quick glance at the closed door, wondering if she could make a run for it. That man couldn't possibly hurt her, could he? She was only a child — well, at least, she was one to his eyes.

The man paused, slowly facing her, a furrow to his brows. "What do you mean?"

"Miss Hitoshi... why did she— I mean." Ada looked for the right words, too afraid she would anger the man. He seemed calm enough, but... she couldn't know for sure. "How did you do that? That thing with the eyes and the hands and—and, the blank gaze."

"You do not know?"

"Well," Ada said slowly. "I... guess not."

His face was set halfway into horror and halfway into stone. The almost warm behaviour had disappeared suddenly. "Little girl," it sounded like he was swallowing a lemon, "can you tell me what your real name is?"

Ada's heart stuttered to a stop.

So he knew that her name wasn't Nana, which meant he couldn't have possibly mistaken her with whoever Nana was. Or maybe... he thought she was Nana, but questioning him about the magic trick with the agent had made him realize she wasn't really Nana. Was it some kind of family secret?

No wait, he wasn't supposed to be her uncle, right? At least, that's what she had gotten out of his conversation with Ms Hitoshi.

"I... I'm..." She took a grounding breath, little fingers gripping the blanket over her lap. "Who are you?"

Was he Nana's uncle? No, that couldn't be. Otherwise, he wouldn't have had to do that thing with the agent. "You're not my uncle, are you?" but, even she said this, she felt a knot settle in her throat - what if he indeed was the uncle of the girl that had previously inhabitated this body? Had she just stolen this little girl from this man?

"I see," and the man looked remorseful now, eyes half-lidded and mouth set in a scowl. "It is not your fault, I suppose," he said, almost to himself, after gathering his words. "Don't worry about me. I believe you are old enough to take care of yourself, after all. Me fostering you will only serve to get authorities off your back."

Ada felt her whole body freeze, and she slyly peeked at the man from below her lashes. "I, I don't underst— I'm only seven," she attempted, trying to sound convincing, although she was sure that the tremble in her voice betrayed her.

"Nana..." his soft, almost regretful tone caught her off guard, and he must have noticed, because he suddenly regained his previous coldness. "There is no need to hide the truth from me, child. I can see it in your eyes; you are long since past seven." There was a twitch of his lips, as if he had been about to say more, but had restrained himself at the last moment — and a flash of misery and grief flashed accross his face.

She just— she just couldn't figure it out! Who was this man? Why was he watching her with those eyes? His behaviour, which at the beginning had been warm, relieved, and almost fond, had gone cold and closed off as soon as she had asked him who he was. What was so important about it? Had they met each other before?

"You will come to my home, and from today onward, you live with me. My personal maid will take care of the cleaning and cooking. You are permitted to ask her for anything you wish, as long as you do not keep her from doing her work. Curfew is at midnight. If you need something, ask the maid." He paused, and let out something that sounded like a sigh through his nose. "We shall depart soon. Prepare your suitcase."

"I, I don't have anything," she admitted, a bit shamefully, though she was mostly just befuddled. What a turn of event! Was he gonna lecture her about manners too?

His brows furrowed, looking a bit puzzled. "Not even a phone?"

She shook her head. "May-maybe I had one? But, um, if- if I had one, then I think someone stole it from me... I, I mean, when I first woke up, there was someone — a pair of brothers, I think — going through my pockets, so I don't really know—" she cut herself off abruptly, realizing she had begun rambling, and flushed.

"I will see about getting it back," he said curtly, and took a few steps toward the door. "Let's get going, then."

"Ri-right." She jumped to her feet, and began following the man... Was it a good idea, though? Maybe he was going to kill her. Going from how easily her had tricked the social service agent, she was pretty sure he could just as easily trick or charm her. She... didn't even know his full name.

She glanced back at the room she had slept in for the past few days. No going back, now... or, well, if things didn't go as planned, she could always just run away. As a child, while she was powerless in some ways, she also had the power of being, well, powerless. People would want to protect a child, especially one as helpless as herself.

Oh well, she could focus on escape plans later, if it came to it.

—

Outside the hospital, a sleek black car waited for them. A pretty young woman with dark hair pulled back in a high ponytail was at the wheel, greeting them with a nod. She was wearing sunglasses, too.

The man opened the passenger door for her, and then climbed to sit next to the driving lady. It seemed to surprise her, too.

Ada stopped focusing on them, and instead began staring out the window, watching the buildings pass by with wistfulness. At each Japanese word, she couldn't help but be reminded that she was far, far away from home. But where was home, in the first place?

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour ride, they pulled to a stop.

The pretty woman — the maid? — opened the door for her. The man had already left the car, seemingly walk-running to the... the... Was that a mansion?! God, what kind of person was this Mr Kotone?!

"The master is going to his office," the pretty woman told her, though Ada barely heard her, too busy gaping at the mansion.

It seemed quite old, and yet intact. There were vines growing on the walls, giving it a nice natural and rustic feel. There seemed to be a grand garden on the side of the mansion, with beautiful, regal flowers — tall bushes serving as both a fence and a labyrinth; white, pink, and red roses; a white marble summerhouse. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the sight.

Was she really gonna live here? Ada swallowed nervously, and glanced at the pretty maid.

But the pretty woman only tilted her head. "Shall we?"

Indoors, the mansion was just as expensively furnished as the garden. Most of the decorations looked rather rustic, and even the modern technology looked... well, old. The TV was a large, square box.

"Do you wish to visit your room?" the maid asked.

Ada nodded, speechless.

Ada's bedroom was on the first floor. There were windows in the hallways, and Ada spent her time staring out of it. The garden seemed beautiful. Could she go there later?

"This will be your bedroom from now on, young mademoiselle," the maid said, pushing the door open.

Her room was quite large, not unlike the rest of the mansion. The walls were a pale pink — or maybe it was salmon? — and the floor covered in varnished floorboards. A large window gave into the garden, with a few potted flowers on the outer edge of the window. There was a large bed in the corner of the room, along with a nightstand at the bed's side.

Quite surprisingly, the whole room was clean, not a spot of dust to be seen. Or maybe it wasn't that surprising. The whole mansion seemed to be spotless.

Was she really allowed to sleep here? Nana voiced her thought to the pretty maid.

The maid nodded, not a hint of emotion on her face. "Of course, young mademoiselle. Master," strange, how she said it in English, while she said mademoiselle in French, "only wants the best for you."

"Uh huh," Ada said, unconvinced. With the way he had locked himself up in his office as soon as they had gotten here, that man probably wouldn't talk to her much. "Thank you, miss."

The maid didn't answer for a moment. "...miss..."

Judging by the soft tone of her voice, Ada wasn't supposed to have heard that. She pretended she hadn't.

"I," she paused, took a deep breath, and tried not to think about what had happened until now. She failed. "I, I think I need some time. I'm sorry. Is it alright if, if— I need to get used to this room, you know? Please."

The maid nodded, going back to being stiff. "Of course."

"Will I be able to go to the garden later?" she asked hopefully.

"You are allowed to go anywhere, except the master's office," the maid said. She took a few steps back, and nodded once more — or was that a nod-bow? "I will be in the kitchen or the living room. I will call you once it is dinner time."

"Thank you," Ada said.

"Of course." The maid pulled the door close.

Ada waited until the sound of footsteps had disappeared, and slumped on the bed.

—

That evening, Mr Kotone stayed holed up in his office, the maid looked at her silently, and Ada ate alone.

This was... an incredibly lonely house.

At least, the garden was lovely.

(And that night, as every night before, Ada was once more lulled to sleep by the sound of the sea, the shattering of her reflection, and the memory of a hand through her hair.)

—

"Miss?" Ada called, two days later.

The maid, who until now had been busy cooking dinner until now, turned toward her, eyes still hidden behind her (honestly rather pretty) sunglasses. "Yes, young mademoiselle?"

"Um, I was wondering..." she paused, asking herself whether the question needed to be asked — it seemed so obvious, that it would be idiotic to even wonder about that. "When- when will I be going to school?"

The maid didn't say anything for a moment. "It is as you wish, young mademoiselle."

"Um," Ada managed, unable to really say anything more. She got to choose?

Her first instinct was to refuse going to school ever again (god, what a nightmare it was, sometimes... she didn't even have her friends, here), but on second thought... She was declared to the social services, right? If she didn't go to school, then they would notice, wouldn't they? She didn't really have a choice, then. Was this some kind of test?

"I, I'll be going to school," she said decidedly, crossing her arms, redaying herself for any opposition.

The maid nodded, "I will inform the master." She turned back to her chopping.

Ada deflated, and nodded glumly.

That evening, as the maid tucked her in, she told her, "You will be starting kindergarten next week. The master was very surprised by your want to go to school once more."

"Once more?" Ada repeated, surprised. Was there a possibility that he knew that she really wasn't a little girl?

The maid nodded, but didn't say more on the matter, only wishing her a good night.

But no matter how much she tried to reassure herself, Ada had a hard time falling asleep that night.

—

Going to school was stressful.

Just the thought of actually going set a tight ball of nerves into her stomach, and made nausea rise up her throat. She could sense— she could feel that school had hurt her before, but she could not, for the life of hers, figure out what had possibly happened to her.

It's only kindergarten, she told herself, there's no need to be stressed out. There are only children, and even if you do something stupid, they will just forget about it, anyway. Children make mistakes all the time. It's fine. But even so, she couldn't help but be nervous about it all.

The school itself was quite big — or maybe it was small in Tokyo standards — with beige walls and trees littered about the schoolyard.

The maid left Nana (for, from now on, everyone would call her Nana, wouldn't they? was Ada even her name?) at the entrance. "I will come back once school ends. If you need me, don't hesitate to call me." She pushed her pretty sunglasses up, and smiled gently (and prettily).

Nana had half the mind to ask her to stay, but squared up her shoulders, and nodded. "See you, pret— um," she couldn't possibly call her 'pretty maid,' or 'maid,' could she? Had she missed her chance to ask for her name? "See you later, nee-chan."

"Nee-chan...?" the maid repeated, sounding startled but pleased. The newly dubbed Sister ducked her head, and smiled to herself. "Of course, young mademoiselle."

Sister waved at her as she drove away. Nana waved back, for as long as the car was in view.

She entered the school, but didn't go to an adult immediately, wondering if it really was alright for her to be there without an adult — wasn't her guardian supposed to sign papers, or at least accompany her?

She went to what she thought was her classroom, and looked inside.

There was a group of young girls playing in the corner of the room, chattering noisily, waving their crayons around. Nana wondered if she should join them — if she didn't, then would she be rejected from the class as a recluse?

Most of the girls were brunettes, with bright smiles, and even brighter clothes. They seemed like quite the cheery bunch.

One girl in particular caught her eye; another dark haired young girl, with a bright yellow hairband. Something about her just... reminded her of someone else. Nana couldn't possibly tell who it was, but it was just on the tip of her tongue.

There was another group, though this time it was a mix of boys and girls. They seemed to be playing a board game. Once more, two children caught her attention; two boys: one with freckles and a somewhat nerdy look overall, and the other a rather large boy with a strange hole in his buzzcut.

Didn't they seem familiar...?

"Kotone-chan...?"

Nana jumped, but before she could turn around, someone put a large hand on her shoulder.

"Kotone-chan," a rather young lady said, "you're not supposed to enter yet. We have to introduce you to the class."

"Oh," Nana said, a bit put out.

"Come on, Nana-chan," the teacher (?) said, encouraging her out of the class. "We'll get you introduced properly."

She looked back at the kids that had caught her eye, and gave an innocent look at the teacher. "Will they introduce themselves too?"

The teacher looked a bit surprised, but smiled. "If you want them to."

Ten minutes later found her standing outside the classroom, door open, waiting for the moment the teacher would call her name.

"Now, children," the teacher was saying, "I have an announcement today! Guess what? We will be welcoming a new friend!" As the children cheered, the teacher turned toward the open door. "Nana-chan, why don't you come in?"

Nana, feeling a bit ridiculous for finding children intimidating, waddled inside, looking at the cheering children with wide eyes. She suddenly found her throat tight.

Children were too... too happy, too innocent, too pure. She was afraid of disappointing them.

As she reached the center of the board, the teacher put both hands on her shoulders. "Why don't you introduce yourself to the class, Nana-chan?"

"I..." She swallowed, and nodded. "My name's Kotone Nana! It's nice to meet you!" She bowed lowly, clumsily, clamping her eyes shut.

When she straightened again, the children were still smiling. "Nice to meet you, Nana-chan!" they said as one.

God, that was so cute.

"Why don't we all introduce ourselves to Nana-chan?" the teacher said, smiling. She gave Nana a soft, reassuring look - probably in response to Nana's overwhelmed face. "My name is Makoto Nanami. See? We almost have the same name! I like reading and paper cutting. What do you like to do, Nana-chan?"

"Um..." Something suitable for kids, quick! "I— I like origamis and... flowers...?" Origami? Nana screamed at herself. Why did you say that? You've never done a single origami in your whole life! At least the flowers part had been deemed true so far — the garden had fascinated her.

"That's great, Nana-chan!" the teacher clapped her hands, and looked at the student on the first row closest to the door. "Takeshi-kun, why don't you begin?"

"Yes!" Takeshi got up, and began talking, but Nana was only half listening.

She had never expected this to be so... so overwhelming! She could barely keep up. It was nothing that unusual, really, but...

"My name's Yoshida Ayumi!" the girl that had caught her eye exclaimed, suddenly catching her attention. "I like cute animals and drawing!"

Nana tried to hide her surprise. Ayumi! And she truly looked like the Yoshida Ayumi of DCMK! Wow.

She looked at the boys that had caught her attention, and to her immense surprise, they did look like Genta and Mitsuhiko.

No way! Nana thought, a bit incredulous. They definitely were the Detective Boys! Even without Conan and Haibara, they were unmistakable! Was it just a crazily well-done, dedicated cosplay?

Or... it was hard to think, and even harder to take seriously, but could she possibly have been... transported into the world of Detective Conan?

But it wouldn't be that surprising, would it? In the first place, it was already surreal enough that she was in the body of a strange child — not counting the fact that she could barely remember anything about herself. What was being sent to another world compared to that?

She couldn't be sure just on that, though.

Maybe she could ask them...?

No, of course she couldn't. If they were indeed only dedicated cosplayers, she would seem insane — though maybe she could then blame it on childish innocence and naivety. And if they were the real deal... then they'd question how she knew their futures.

And how would she excuse that, then? She couldn't possibly say anything about what had happened to her, but...

She guessed only time would tell... or maybe she just had to investigate further.

For now, she had to concentrate on the introductions. It'd be pretty badly-seen if she didn't even remember it, right? She had been the one to ask for it after all.

—

That evening, Nana ate at the dinner table, with Sister sitting at her side, and Mr Kotone locked up in his office once more.

The TV was on. Nana put it on the news channel, hoping to catch a hint about her theory.

She must have been the luckiest person alive in that moment, because just as the news channel turned on, a new headline appeared: High School Detective of the East strikes again!

"The High School Detective of the East, Kudo Shinichi, has once again helped the police force solve a new murder case," the news lady was saying, smiling at the camera.

"Oh!" Nana accidentaly let out, surprised.

"Miss?"

"Um," she floundered, "he's, uh, pretty young." She fidgeted with the cutlery. "He's only in high school, right?"

"Indeed. Kudo Shinichi is a high school student who helps the police solve cases in his spare time. He has been solving cases for some time, but has yet to give a false deduction. People have been saying that he is the modern Sherlock Holmes!" She was smiling, now.

"Huh." Nana blinked at Sister, startled. "You like mystery stories, nee-chan?"

Sister paused, and flushed, straightening her sunglasses, turning away. "I..."

Oh no. If the pretty maid got flustered, then she wouldn't feel free to talk to her anymore! Quick, quick! Think of something to say!

"I think it's cute!" she blurted out, which was, well, not what she was going for, but it was better than nothing. "It's cute when you get passionate. I think it's really nice."

The pretty, blushing maid(en) gaped at her. "Young mademoiselle..." She slowly smiled, shoulders relaxing. "Thank you, young mademoiselle." She looked at Nana's empty plate. "Do you wish for dessert?"

—

AN: Thank you for reading.
This chapter has been edited (11th April 2018). Changes made: shattered reflection in the mirror, Ms Hitoshi gained a name, some dialogue added to Mr Kotone's magic trick, longuer description of the mansion, "Nee-chan" changed to "Sister."