[Volume 1 Chapter 9] When I confessed to the girl I liked, her twin sister came along as a bonus

9. The Twins Apparently Don’t Yet Know About the Visit from the True Twin Maids

“Ugh, I’m beat…”

I collapsed onto the living room sofa with a thud.

Today, I was a bit late to class, and because the rumored transfer student and her sister skipped lessons, I ended up getting weird looks from everyone.

As expected, Takaya was the only one who grilled me about it.

She genuinely didn’t know Yukizuki had a twin sister.

It seems she was shocked that her best friend hadn’t told her about being a twin herself.

It’s not like it’s a big enough deal to fight over, but—Yukizuki might have some making up to do.

Of course, I’m not reckless enough to stick my nose into girl drama.

The other classmates didn’t pry into my business, but—

As for Fuuka, they were all curious, or rather, worried that Maki Nakaba might’ve done something to her.

But, being the natural airhead that Fuuka is, there’s always a chance she might let something slip.

I kept my ears open, but today, Fuuka seemed to be speaking carefully.

For now, neither I nor the twins have any intention of revealing our bizarre three-way relationship.

That said, the twins’ behavior is dangerously reckless.

“Being alone at home… that’s rare.”

Today, the twins were out hanging with classmates.

It’s probably something like a welcome party for Fuuka.

Not just Yukizuki, but even Takaya invited me along, but I declined.

The twins and Takaya are exceptions—most of my classmates are scared of me.

Joining a big welcome party sounds like a nightmare.

The twins and Takaya seemed to pick up on that and didn’t push too hard.

Well, if Fuuka blends into the class at the party and Yukizuki patches things up with Takaya, that’d be perfect.

Hoping everything resolves itself without involving me might be asking too much, though.

But man, Fuuka’s transfer really caught me off guard…

Our school’s got decent academic standards, so transferring in shouldn’t be easy.

Maybe the Tsubasa family’s influence strong-armed it—

Come to think of it, I still don’t know much about the Tsubasa family.

They’re definitely rich, but I don’t know the scale of it.

Hiring maids, though? No matter how you slice it, they’re not your average wealthy family—

““Welcome home, master.””

“…What, maids…? Wait, who are you!?”

I leapt up, darting behind the sofa.

As if they’d materialized out of nowhere, two women in maid outfits stood in the living room.

No need to double-check—they weren’t Yukizuki or Fuuka.

I’d just been thinking about maids, so it freaked me out even more.

Clap, clap. “Nice reflexes. When faced with an intruder, prioritize your safety. Well done.”

“Most people freeze and can’t move. Fighting back recklessly is risky too. Using the sofa as a shield is a smart choice.”

“Who the hell are you…!?”

I hadn’t heard a single footstep, and the living room door was closed.

How did they even get in…?

“No need to be alarmed. A servant’s role is to remain in the shadows. Arriving unnoticed is a basic skill.”

“It’s said that maids of old avoided being seen by their masters or their families.”

“…I’m not your master, and you’re not my servants.”

The two maids were identical, from their hairstyles to their outfits.

Their silver-hued hair was shoulder-length, and they wore black dresses with white aprons.

The skirts reached their ankles.

White headbands adorned their heads.

It was the quintessential maid outfit you’d expect in some British noble’s mansion.

Not that I know any British nobles, so I can’t say for sure.

They looked a bit mature, probably a year or two older than me—

But still young enough to be considered girls.

Their expressionless faces gave off a cold vibe—but both were undeniably beautiful.

“Well, I can guess… or rather, it’d be harder to not guess who you are.”

““Yes, our masters are Yukizuki-sama and Fuuka-sama of the Tsubasa family.””

“…Don’t harmonize like that. So, you’re Yukizuki and Fuuka’s servants—maids, huh?”

“Asa Nagami.”

“Yuu Nagami.”

They introduced themselves, pinching their skirts and curtsying gracefully.

Their movements were worlds apart from the twins’ pretend-maid act.

Even to an untrained eye, you could tell they’d undergone professional training.

Not that I know a single thing about what kind of training real maids get.

“As you said, we are maids in service to the Tsubasa family.”

“We’ve served the Tsubasa family since we were old enough to understand the world.”

“…Seriously, is being a maid even a real job? I thought maids only existed in maid cafés or something.”

“Even if you say that, we are maids, so there’s no helping it.”

“The Tsubasa family has deep ties to England, and the main estate is built in a British style.”

“Countries with maids aren’t particularly rare even today.”

“Essentially, we’re like housekeepers or domestic staff. We’re not the kind of servants you call with a single phone call, though.”

“The difference from housekeepers is obvious from your appearance…”

These old-fashioned maid outfits gave off a strong cosplay vibe.

But for a family as rich as the Tsubasas, having servants makes sense, and I know nothing about the world of the elite.

Come to think of it, didn’t the twins mention something about their family’s servants?

“I think I heard the maids at the Tsubasa main house wear regular shirts and pants or something.”

“Those are the other maids. We are different.”

“Wearing anything but proper maid attire for efficiency’s sake goes against our pride.”

“…I see.”

The twins did say there were maids who wore actual maid outfits.

They also called them weirdos, if I recall.

These maids definitely have an unusual aura…

“Fine, I’ll accept you’re legit maids, even if it takes a hundred steps to get there.”

“A hundred steps?”

“What is our purpose, then?”

“Sorry, I’m just a commoner, so maids are outside my experience. But… why are you twins?”

“You keep questioning our existence.”

“Why? Because the fertilized egg split and implanted.”

“Don’t say ‘implanted’ like that.”

Are these maids messing with me?

“The Tsubasa family has thousands… no, tens of thousands of associates. Among the upper echelons’ children, we were chosen as twins close in age to the young ladies.”

“It’s customary in the Tsubasa family to assign attendants and caretakers close in age to their children. Since Yukizuki-sama and Fuuka-sama are twins, their attendants and caretakers are also twins.”

“We’ve looked after both young ladies since we were children ourselves.”

“We’re only a year older, but we’re like their foster parents.”

“…I don’t think the attendants have to be twins. The Tsubasa family’s pretty eccentric.”

“We’re flattered, but the Tsubasa family is merely a wealthy clan. Not some mysterious bloodline with special powers.”

“The only eccentric ones are the young ladies.”

“…Got it.”

Knowing Yukizuki and Fuuka, that’s an incredibly convincing statement.

But it’s not just the twins—these maid twins are pretty eccentric too.

“So… Asa-san, Yuu-sab, was it?”

“Please call us Asa and Yuu without honorifics.”

“Otherwise, the young ladies will scold us.”

“Alright, Asa, Yuu… why’d you suddenly show up here?”

““To confirm the person chosen by our young ladies, of course.””

“…Hmph.”

I leaned back on the sofa, eyeing the two maids.

“Well, check me out all you want. But since I’m not exactly relaxed, why don’t you sit?”

“No, servants do not sit.”

“You wouldn’t sprawl out in a chair while working at your shop, would you?”

“Obviously not. My old man would smack me.”

They seem to know all about my family situation too.

Back in the day, shop clerks might’ve read newspapers at customers’ tables, but not anymore.

At least at Maru, clerks don’t sit in the shop’s chairs during business hours, even if no customers are around.

“Well, I’m a working stiff too. Not much different from you. I’d rather you didn’t act so formal.”

“No, you may one day be in a position to command us.”

“Changing our attitude later would be awkward, so we’ll be polite from the start.”

“…Do whatever you want, Asa, Yuu.”

Being stared at by two maids is unnerving.

I’ve gotten used to beautiful girls lately, but these maid twins are different from the Tsubasa sisters.

They’re almost doll-like, with an eerie, unknowable quality.

“If you’re here to check me out, wouldn’t it be better when Yukizuki and Fuuka are around?”

“It’s more convenient that they’re not here.”

“We want to see the real you.”

“The young ladies’ presence would interfere with our assessment.”

“Those two are quite lively, aren’t they? How did they turn out like that?”

“Didn’t you say you raised them!?”

These maids are begging for retorts.

“Well, whoever raised them, the young ladies would’ve turned out that way. Their personalities are just that strong.”

“They were destined to grow up like that. We bear no responsibility.”

“The Tsubasa family should rethink their servant selection process.”

These twin maids don’t seem to have any loyalty to their ladies.

The British vibe is just in their appearance—they’re nothing like maids from foreign dramas.

Maybe real maids are like this, and expecting loyalty is the mistake.

“You’re making a face like you doubt our loyalty, Yuu.”

“Yes, a face we’ve seen countless times, Asa.”

“Look, whether you’re loyal to the family or not is none of my business. You don’t seem like you’d harm Yukizuki or Fuuka.”

“That’s exactly what we were concerned about.”

“That’s why we came to meet you.”

“…? That? What?”

What did I just say?

“Whether you’re a threat to Yukizuki-sama and Fuuka-sama.”

“You must know—the young ladies are Dual Twins, bearing the emotions of two people in one.”

“Y-Yeah.”

Their sudden seriousness made me nod instinctively.

As expected, these twin maids know Yukizuki and Fuuka’s secret.

“Those who earn the young ladies’ affection inevitably suffer immense mental strain.”

“But the young ladies are kind. If someone they love breaks, they’d be deeply hurt.”

“…They don’t look hurt. Both are full of energy.”

““Yes, it seems so.””

The twin maids nodded in perfect unison.

“We came expecting you to be broken by now.”

“We’re quite perplexed that both the young ladies and you seem perfectly fine.”

“You don’t look perplexed.”

If anything, these maids barely seem alive.

They’re not secretly androids developed by the Tsubasa family, are they?

““Nakaba Maki-sama. You, too, are—‘not alone,’ are you?””

The androids—or maids—said out of nowhere.

They stood motionless, hands lightly clasped in front of them.

“…I don’t get what you mean.”

“The Maki-sama who loves Yukizuki-sama.”

“The Maki-sama who loves Fuuka-sama.”

““Both reside within your mind, don’t they?””

As expected, the maids didn’t move except for their mouths.

I waited for them to laugh and break character with a “just kidding,” but no luck.

So, I laughed instead.

“Haha, what, you think I’ve got a split personality or something?”

“It may not align with the image of a split personality.”

“The trope of an ordinary person switching to a violent or cruel opposite personality—like in suspense dramas—comes to mind.”

“But you, Maki-sama, possess two identical personalities, don’t you?”

“Isn’t… having one personality the same thing?”

“No, it’s not. We may be identical in appearance, personality, and specs, down to the smallest detail.”

“But we are two, not one. Being two is not an element to overlook.”

“I’m not saying I take either of you lightly.”

Even if they’re identical, they’re distinct beings.

No one would think, “There’s two, so it’s fine if one dies.”

“I can’t tell you apart, so I can’t talk big.”

““You may take us lightly as individuals. Think of us as a set.””

“This isn’t a fast-food joint. Telling me to see people as a set… well, I’m not one to talk.”

After all, I confessed to one twin and ended up dating her sister too.

To others, it probably looks like I’m treating the twins as a package deal.

“But why assume I’ve got two personalities? That’s a wild leap, isn’t it?”

““No, it’s not wild at all. It’s the logical conclusion.””

The twin maids shook their heads in unison.

“If someone can love two people equally, they must have two people inside them.”

“Watching our exceptionally unique twin ladies, we reached that conclusion.”

“If you deny it, that’s fine.”

“We only wish for you to build a good relationship with both young ladies.”

““That’s all.””

“…Good job.”

It seems they really came to check me out.

And probably—I passed their evaluation.

But I’m not inclined to confirm or deny what they’re saying.

At the very least, the first ones I’d share my secrets with wouldn’t be these twin maids—

It’d be those two who said they love me, no matter who I am.

Since childhood, I’ve known I wasn’t alone.

I learned about split personalities much later, but I was certain that wasn’t what I had.

It’s not something so dramatic, you could say.

Having another person in my head has never been a problem.

But it hasn’t exactly been an advantage either.

At best, it’s like having someone to consult with inside my mind.

I’ve seen busy adults say, “I wish there was another me.”

Unfortunately, in my case, it’s not like I can split tasks between two personalities.

If there’s one thing that sets me apart from others—

It’s that I can fall in love with two people at once.

I’m just unsociable, not emotionally stunted, so I had my first crush in kindergarten.

After that, in elementary school, the girls I liked changed with each new class.

I might be a bit fickle, but that’s not particularly strange.

What is strange is that I always liked two girls at the same time.

I don’t think there was any particular commonality between the pairs I liked.

Apparently, I don’t have a specific type—quiet girls, lively girls, even girls with completely opposite personalities—I’d fall for both just as easily.

Maybe I’m just flighty—but no, it’s not one girl, or three, or four.

It’s always, without exception, two.

When I got to high school, I realized something else.

Liking two people at once means my desires are directed at both as well—and I don’t feel particularly guilty about it.

Until elementary school, I was oblivious to desire, and even in middle school, it wasn’t that strong, so I didn’t notice until recently.

But no guy could resist having his desires stirred by those cute, busty twins.

A normal person would feel guilty about being involved with two girls at once, but for me, it doesn’t bother me.

Groping Yukizuki’s breasts while kissing Fuuka feels nothing but good.

I’m the worst, but since the Tsubasa sisters want it that way, there’s no issue.

Maybe the only ones I could have this guilt-free relationship with are those destined twins.

Or perhaps meeting the Tsubasa sisters was my own kind of fate—ugh, is that too cheesy?

“Phew…”

Sighing, I looked up.

“This feels kinda nostalgic.”

An old-fashioned ramen shop—not exactly “good old days,” but it had that classic vibe.

It was evening, just past five o’clock.

Maru Ramen had already hung its noren curtain out front.

Maru opens at eleven in the morning, takes a break from three to five, and then operates from five to ten at night.

Evening service had already started.

It’s been less than a month since I started crashing at the twins’ apartment, so feeling nostalgic is a bit weird.

I thought homesickness was a foreign concept to me, but maybe I was lonelier than I realized.

I slid open the shop’s door—

“Welcome—oh, it’s you, uh… Na… Nakaba…”

“It’s Nakaba. Don’t forget the name you gave me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That was seventeen years ago!”

“You’ve been calling me that for seventeen years!”

Behind the counter stood a middle-aged man—my father, Ryuuji Maki, obviously.

His short-cropped hair was tucked under a bandana, and he wore a clean white chef’s coat, pants, and apron.

Despite being a humble neighborhood ramen shop owner, my dad’s obsessive about hygiene.

There were two customers. It was just the start of evening service, so that’s about right.

“What, did the Tsubasa-san family kick you out or something?”

“I wasn’t kicked out of my own home. I just came to check on things. So, Where’s Mom?”

“She went to source ingredients. The green onions that came in earlier weren’t up to par.”

“She’s so particular…”

At our shop, Dad does most of the cooking, but Mom handles a few menu items too.

She’s even pickier about ingredients than he is.

“Oh, right. Is Wakaba around?”

“What, you’re such a siscon. Came all the way to see your little sister?”

“Her face is less gruff than yours, that’s for sure. So, is she here?”

“She’s upstairs. Said she’s got a ton of homework and can’t help out for a bit.”

“…Homework, huh.”

I glanced at the ceiling for no particular reason.

Then I cut through the shop to the main house.

Normally, I’d use the house’s front door, but today I wanted to check on the shop, so I came this way.

I climbed to the second floor and knocked lightly on the door at the end of the hall, opening it without waiting for a reply.

“Hey, Wakaba.”

“What’s up, Anii?”

Turning around was my little sister—not an elementary schooler, but a middle schooler.

Wakaba Maki, second year of middle school.

She’s barely under 150 cm, pretty tiny.

Her wavy hair is cut short, and she’s still in her one-piece school uniform.

This sister of mine doesn’t bother changing into casual clothes or loungewear after school. Too much hassle, apparently.

Wakaba was at her study desk in the six-tatami-mat room, scribbling something in a notebook with a mechanical pencil in her left hand.

“Heard you’ve got a lot of homework today.”

No greetings needed.

Neither she nor I bother with formalities at home.

Well, it’s just between us siblings— we greet our parents normally.

“…Oh, yeah, I told Dad something like that.”

“Don’t forget.”

Wakaba tossed her pencil onto the desk and flopped onto the tatami in a slouchy pose.

As expected, she wasn’t actually doing homework.

Confirming that, I sat down in front of her.

“Didn’t you move out, Anii?”

“I caught you.”

“…Ugh.”

With one word, my sister figured it all out.

We’re not connected by fate like the Tsubasa sisters, obviously.

Bonds like theirs aren’t exactly common.

“Your thing’s supposed to be something almost no one would notice.”

“I barely notice it myself most of the time.”

There are two of me inside.

Two sets of the perfectly normal feeling of love.

But without someone to love, it’s completely meaningless.

“When I heard you were staying at the twin ojou-samas’ place, I had a hunch.”

“It’s weird to talk about with my sister, but… seems I fell for both twins at once.”

“Wow, that’s a messy situation. Way too intense for a middle schooler.”

Wakaba’s face flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t lie. You couldn’t care less about my love life.”

“…Caught me again.”

Her face snapped back to a blank expression.

It’s like she’s wearing a mask or a shoddy 3D CG model.

“No, I’m a little curious. Those twin ojou-samas… are they like us?”

“A bit different, but… yeah, not normal.”

I explained that the Tsubasa sisters were “destined twins,” one person with two selves.

That’s probably not something I should tell anyone.

But since the Tsubasa side figured out my secret, it’s not like it’s fair for me to spill theirs—

Still, in an emergency, telling only Wakaba seemed unavoidable.

Wakaba’s tight-lipped—I can vouch for that as her brother.

Besides, there’s no one else in the world I can talk to about this, so I had no choice.

“Hmm, destined twins, huh? That’s one way it could go. Kinda occult.”

“Well, ours is psychologically proven, so…”

“I’m different from you, Anii. Yours is just inconvenient with no practical use.”

“Leave me alone.”

I picked up the notebook she’d been writing in.

It was filled with slanted mathematical equations, scribbled messily.

I couldn’t make sense of a single one.

I’m not even sure they’re actual equations.

Probably beyond most middle schoolers and college students.

“You’ve got it easy, Wakaba. It’s like you’ve got two brains.”

“It’s just two processing systems. Thinking about the same problem with two personalities at once is handy, though.”

“Hmm… still don’t get it.”

Wakaba once explained it’s like having two CPUs.

It’s not just double the thinking speed, apparently.

Multitasking—handling multiple thoughts at once—is something even normal people do unconsciously.

In Wakaba’s case, her CPUs are high-performance, so her thinking speed is four to sixteen times faster than average.

Those numbers are just her gut feeling, no hard evidence—

In short, my little sister’s a genius.

But Wakaba hides her uniqueness from our parents, teachers, and friends.

Right now, I’m the only one in the world who knows her secret, being her brother and a similar oddity.

“So, what’s your plan if the twins find out? Just saying, don’t drag me into it.”

“No reason to spill your secret. Wakaba, use that brilliant brain of yours to tell me what to do.”

“No clue. Does it even matter if they find out? Your thing’s harmless, even if it’s useless.”

“You’re real blunt… Your thing’s all upsides, isn’t it?”

“Thinking everyone’s an idiot isn’t a downside?”

“…Well, if you ever need help, just say so.”

“I’ll use anyone I can, even you, Anii. Don’t need to tell me.”

Her blank expression softened, her eyes dropping slightly with a hint of loneliness.

I’m probably the only one who can catch that subtle shift.

She only shows this expression to me—normally, she’s a typical middle school girl, expressing emotions clearly.

Wakaba’s so smart she can’t help looking down on others.

Since starting middle school, she’s learned to act in ways that avoid friction, but as a kid, she clashed with people a lot.

She’s smart but small and not physically strong, so she was an easy target at school.

Still, she never faced full-on bullying like being ignored or attacked.

What protected her was me—or rather, my face.

I didn’t heroically shield her or anything, but rumors at school like “Don’t mess with Wakaba Maki; her brother’s scary” apparently kept trouble at bay.

Seriously, I didn’t do anything.

But maybe my presence protected those who clashed with Wakaba.

Think about it—if she got bullied, that genius brain of hers would’ve poured all its resources into revenge, plotting something terrifying.

Just imagining it creeps me out…

“Anii, I’m not into barbaric stuff like revenge.”

“…Yeah, right.”

Her brain’s so sharp she can read me like a book.

That’s why, despite being younger, she’s worth consulting.

“Anii, this is your first and last chance.”

“Huh…?”

“It’s not worth consulting me about. It’s not a problem for my brain to solve.”

“You love wasting that brain of yours, don’t you?”

Wakaba’s got world-class intellect but spends her days as the poster girl at a ramen shop.

Wearing a cute cheongsam, she charms customers, gets pampered, and coaxes extra orders to help the shop.

Sure, the job needs some smarts, but it’s not exactly the best use of her talents.

Our parents don’t know about her high intellect.

No one does, except me.

Wakaba doesn’t want her uniqueness noticed.

At school, she dials back her abilities to play the average middle schooler.

Maybe she just doesn’t want the attention, or maybe she’s got some long-term plan—she hasn’t told even me yet.

“It’s not a hobby… Thinking about obvious stuff is just a hassle.”

“…I still don’t get it. Explain.”

“Ugh, what a pain.”

Wakaba groaned, genuinely annoyed, and flopped onto the tatami.

She stretched out her legs, resting them on my knees as I sat cross-legged.

Rare for her to act clingy.

It’s hard for others to tell, but physical closeness is Wakaba’s way of showing affection.

Maybe she actually missed me…?

“It’s just more comfortable this way.”

“…Got it.”

As expected, she saw right through me.

I nudged her to continue.

“Ugh… Look, people like those Tsubasa twins are rare. The odds of meeting others like them in your life are basically zero.”

“So, don’t let the twins slip away?”

“No, not really. If you want to fall in love, go for it. If you’re fine staying single forever like me, ditch the Tsubasa place and help out at the ramen shop.”

“Can’t ignore that line about staying single forever…”

“No unnecessary retorts. We’re not doing comedy here; that back-and-forth is pointless.”

“Isn’t that a retort too…? But yeah, I get what you mean.”

Since I fall for two people at once, I can’t have a normal relationship unless both love me back.

Dating two people is already far from normal…

“Also, Anii, you talk about people like they’re monsters, but thinking with two personalities is the same as me. You don’t need to consult anyone. The closest person—your other personality—is right there.”

“Since it’s the same personality, I’d just get the same answer, right?”

“Not necessarily. Humans are contradictory creatures. Even if cloning tech gets practical, clones would develop distinct personalities. Raise multiple clones in the same environment, and there’d still be differences.”

“Bringing up extreme examples again.”

Still, it’s true I don’t agonize over things.

That’s why when I confessed to Yukizuki, I could answer instantly when she brought up her twin.

When Yukizuki and Fuuka came onto me, I knew right away whether to respond.

Kissing, groping, or sucking their breasts—I hesitate, but if my other self gives the go-ahead, I act immediately.

Yeah—when I’m unsure, I ask the other me.

There’ve been times one of us disagrees.

According to my genius sister, my two personalities are 99% identical, with a 1% difference.

So, sometimes our opinions clash.

The percentage is just a rough guess, Wakaba said.

She believes nothing in the world is 100% certain.

Especially with something as vague as human mentality, perfect identity is impossible.

But when both of me give the green light, I don’t hesitate.

Even if it’s just two, a unanimous decision means I’ve got a clear answer—no point wasting time second-guessing.

So, with Yukizuki and Fuuka—if I’ve got my answer, there’s no need to waver.

And if the smartest person I know, my sister, says this is my first and last chance—

Then no matter who I am, I shouldn’t let them go.