Part-time — 1
Four thirty-eight in the afternoon, and the train pulled up to the number two platform at Fuyutsuki station exactly on schedule. Amongst the throng disembarking was a certain raven-haired schoolgirl still in her school uniform. Knee-length, pleated, purple skirt; grey cardigan vest over a white blouse with a peter pan collar; and just a touch of goldenrod accents at the collar, short sleeves, and little ribbon tied into a bow.
Headed to the south exit of the station, Rumielle passed a veritable battalion of vending machines, selling almost everything one could think to stick in a machine – from the old standbys of colas, waters, and juices to chocolate bars, cigarettes, instant coffee and instant noodles, and then on to less-standard things, like music players, downloadable tunes, disposable phones and cameras, umbrellas and ponchos, and even a squad of machines off in one corner that sold clothing. She had no doubt that if someone expected a need, there'd be a vending machine for kitchen sinks, as well.
Out of the station and across the street from the bus transfer, though it seemed to take a little longer than normal for the crosswalk lights to switch, Rumielle walked–not hurriedly, but with purpose– a few blocks past all manner of little retail stores, stopping to peer through the window of a few shops. A cute pair of shoes here, a plush kitten there, and an elaborate bronze clock fashioned as a sundress-clad young girl. Her basket of flowers was the pendulum, and if you looked closely, the bronze petals concealed the diminutive figures of sleeping faeries. She had wanted the clock from the moment she had first seen it, but the price was … no more within her range than a trip to the moon. Still, she could dream. And save what money she could. Her part-time job helped with that.
Speaking of which…
Sighing a little, Rumielle continued down the street two more blocks and took a left into a side alley. Half a block further ahead, and the buildings were storefronts opening onto a side street, but at the cafe where she worked, the owner wanted them to take the back door in and out – that way the customers only ever saw them in the cafe in uniform. Helped maintain the illusion.
In the changing room, Rumielle carefully hung her school uniform in her locker and donned the uniform of Cafe 9& – an ankle-length black dress and a slightly frilly white apron. She kept a different pair of shoes here, too, though the sheer white tights she wore with her school uniform worked just as well with the maid uniform she wore here for waitressing. Altogether elegant in its simplicity, she thought it made for a rather cute outfit, though still a little embarrassing. Erika, on the other hand, seemed to make it look a bit more than just cute.
Blushing a little, she adjusted the maid's ruffle that completed the outfit and pinned her nametag to a shoulder strap of her apron. And then, pen and pad of paper in hand, she walked out to the main room of the cafe, ready to begin her third week of work.