Path of the Extra Chapter 385: Leo Karumi [19]

Once the mayhem in Leo’s classroom died down, cheers broke out as they dashed toward the gym, home to their haunted house creation.

Leo opted to join them. With half an hour left before the official kickoff, there was ample time for final inspections and tweaks.

Upon arrival, he spotted the setup concealed under a massive cloth shroud. Still, the aroma of new timber seeped out.

He gave a subtle nod of approval, resembling an official evaluator, prompting several classmates to rush up, buzzing with eagerness.

"Leo!" one exclaimed.

"Want to be our test subject—er, our first visitor?" The words tumbled out nonstop. "You’ve got no costume, so hanging with us all day would be pointless, and you’d stick out awkwardly. Not that you’d linger, but—you get it, yeah?"

Leo nodded. He had no intention of wasting the day there regardless. And even if they pushed, no one could force him—least of all when he captained the festival committee.

A handmade sign dangled unevenly over the doorway:

ENTER IF YOU DARE

The lettering wobbled, brush marks evident, yet it enhanced the charm.

Leo examined it briefly, then faced their hopeful expressions.

"...Alright," he replied. "I’ll go in."

"Yes!" a voice yelled.

"Everyone—Leo’s entering!"

Thrill surged through the crowd. All eyes locked on him instantly, gleaming with anticipation—like ravenous hyenas eager for his downfall.

Leo’s mouth quirked up faintly.

"Are... are you a robot, Leo?"

"No way... you didn’t flinch even once..."

"Is it us? A-are we the issue?"

"Don’t worry, Micah! It’s not you—it’s him!" another classmate retorted. "That superior freak who outshines us all!"

"You are not helping!"

Leo emerged from behind the dark curtain, exiting the haunted house. Right away, a row of dejected, slumping classmates confronted him, faces poised to flood the floor with tears.

Leo overlooked them initially, peering back at the entryway. Rather than their sagging postures and crestfallen looks, he rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

’

The idea flickered then vanished.

That fellow was a tempest disrupting his calm routine, and welcoming tempests spelled trouble.

Lacking any pretext to linger, Leo felt unexpectedly content.

He spun around—and halted.

The gazes directed his way felt off.

Disappointment was plain; they’d failed to elicit a single shiver from him. Yet underneath lurked neediness, anticipation. Almost resembling—

Puppies craving approval.

From the side, he noticed his teacher at the gym’s rear, arms folded against the wall. She raised a hand, waving as if anticipating this exact instant.

The scene amused Leo immensely.

Unable to hold back, a wide grin broke across his face—and he burst into laughter.

The noise shocked the group.

He chuckled a solid minute as surrounding students stood petrified, eyes blinking like dazed fish grappling with the sight.

Finally dabbing a tear from his eye, his smile lingered—now gentler, warmer as he regarded his classmates.

"The haunted house turned out great," he stated.

"I see the hard work you all poured in. Amazing effort from everyone."

"..."

Silence blanketed the gym.

Nearby classes—four at minimum—halted too, heads swiveling as his praise echoed outward.

Leo’s classmates... he’d bet they fought back sobs.

Then he saw they weren’t succeeding.

Tears streamed freely.

Next blink, a horde of bawling kids charged him.

His frame stiffened reflexively, primed to flee—but his teacher’s headshake caught his eye.

For whatever reason, he obeyed.

Lips pressed tight, he exhaled in defeat.

Moments later, he hit the floor.

A heap of sniffling, heated bodies smothered him, weeping straight into his face after years of pent-up longing.

"WAAAH! LEO! IS THAT REALLY YOU?! UNBELIEVABLE!"

"Argh—why?! Why discover your sweet side now?!"

"I-I don’t want this year ending! Let’s be friends!"

"Ugh, why reveal you’re this chill only at the last second...? So unfair!"

"Teacher, fail us all! We can repeat the year, pleeease!"

With no escape, Leo endured sprawled there, mustering a strained, uneasy smirk.

In the background, his teacher’s laughter rang out.

Other classes gawked like viewers at a spectacle.

*****

After much struggle, Leo broke free from his tearful classmates—who’d flipped their opinion of him entirely and now clung desperately.

Too bad for them; Leo hadn’t scheduled his day around them. Even willing, he couldn’t. No costume. No rehearsals. Beyond securing their outfits initially—and slashing costs to upgrade the haunted house—he’d contributed little.

Yet they hailed those efforts as divine intervention.

Still, if picking, Leo preferred pestering his father for amusement.

Musing idly, Leo traversed the corridor swelling with costumed students. The wait ended; the festival roared to life.

All donned outfits linked to their class or club themes, beaming vibrantly. Leo, however, headed to Nathan’s room.

There, a tidy queue of eager students awaited entry.

Rubbing his cheek, Leo suppressed a grimace.

he mused—then dismissed the arrogant urge.

Annoyance persisted. Nathan had insisted he visit "no matter what," yet here Leo queued like the rest.

Unless reverting to "evil prince" mode, options were nil.

Thus, he queued up.

He’d vowed to Lea. Truthfully, Leo wasn’t cruel enough to shatter such joyful hype.

Moreover... he’d oddly chosen engagement over ditching. Baffling, even to himself.

Waiting there, snippets from two thrilled girls ahead drifted back.

"Heard the news? The morning-to-lunch shift belongs to that hot senior—Nathan."

"I crave him suited as a true butler." She sighed dreamily.

"God, perfection."

"Totally!"

Oddly, sharp envy pricked Leo.

Yet he’d sooner die than swap places with Nathan. That moron had roped his class into the ultimate cheesy trope: a maid café.

It astounded Leo. Nathan brimmed with smarts—unquestionably—still, he played the fool often, hooked on manga, anime, light novels.

"Ah!" One girl gasped, hand to mouth.

"Wait—Prez on morning shift too?"

Leo’s focus sharpened.

"Oh yeah!" the other buzzed, quivering.

"Senior Nathan and the student council president together? Insane luck!"

"If only Senior Leo joined their class..."

Leo’s brows arched.

"Yeah? The top three hotties—united. Butlers and maids serving us..."

Twin squeaks escaped muffled.

Leo squirmed uncomfortably.

"Ugh," one grumbled, "I’ve hardly glimpsed Senior Leo, but rumors say he’s vicious..."

The other bobbed her head.

"Word is, his tongue spits venom like a viper."

"Ew, that’s terr—"

"I didn’t know I’d gained such an awesome power."

The pair jolted in unison. Robot-like, they pivoted upward to face him—

and blanched.

"S-senior...!"

Leo sighed.

Then he committed the forbidden act.

He exited the line.

And strode directly ahead.

Outcries erupted from behind, indignant.

"Hey! What’re you—"

But spotting Leo’s features, protests choked off.

Up front, a black-suited boy with checkered vest—class crew—gaped startled.

"H-hey—what’re yo— eek!"

Leo’s flat gaze sent him stumbling back.

"Leo..." the boy ventured warily, voice hushed like nearing a beast.

"What’s this about?"

Leo responded evenly.

"I’m inspecting classes for issues or violations, as festival committee captain."

A bold fib—known only to him.

"Ah... but..." The boy faltered.

"Don’t committee folks wear armbands—?"

He cut off, gulped, plastered a shaky grin.

"Y-you know? Enter anyway. Just... ease up on the death stares at guests and staff."

"Death stares?" Leo echoed.

"Am I?"

The boy affirmed solemnly.

"Yep. Terrifying."

Leo massaged his eyes, truly puzzled.

"Better now?" he queried.

The boy assessed, then relaxed, thumbs-upping.

"Way improved!" he praised.

"Classic Leo."

Leo dipped his head and entered.

By the door, a painted sign propped against the frame:

Welcome Home, Master & Mistress ♡

The sight hit Leo with retreat instinct. Dread knotted his gut.

Inside, the room shed all classroom traces.

Pastel streamers spanned walls, weaving overhead like a lattice, knots concealing tiny paper trinkets or chimes. Sheer pink drapes shrouded windows. Cardboard frames—whitened, frill-edged—framed them as faux café glass.

Desks transformed utterly. Paired and cloth-covered, each bore a faux-flower vase. Centered menus gleamed laminated, adorned with kitty doodles and hearts. A custom logo graced napkins; duplicates stuck to chair backs.

LED strips along ceiling and walls bathed all in soft glow, not stark—shrinking, warming the space.

Maids and butlers glided practicedly, contrasts intentional. Flouncy skirts and aprons grazed vest-clad torsos and crisp cuffs—lace versus ties and gleaming buttons. Stockings synced. Headdresses perched perfectly. Butlers’ simpler garb shone impeccably.

"Welcome home, Ma—oh, Leo!"

A seating maid ID’d him mid-greeting. Character shattered; she flushed, eyes dodging.

"No shying away," Leo deadpanned.

"You fools picked this."

She shot a glare, wounded.

"W-well, when else to dive into roleplay like this or fund it?" she fired back.

"What’s bad about fun taken seriously!? Mock away—I don’t mind!"

Leo blinked at the outburst. He scratched his nape as she huffed arms-crossed at the floor, blushing.

"...Wasn’t gonna."

"Huh?"

She stiffened, peering up.

"R-really?"

Leo confirmed.

"Really."

"...Really?" she pressed oddly, twitching his lips.

"Really."

"Al... alright."

Abruptly, hands clapped; her smile blazed radiantly.

"This way to your seat, Master~!"

"...Right."

Leo puzzled but followed curiously.

A butler drew his chair. Leo settled; menu placed with flourish, then retreat.

Eager to wrap up, Leo picked a parfait. Staff departed; bustle resumed.

Bells tinkled sporadically.

Blackboard-counter hummed: parfaits layered precisely, cream swirled meticulously, beverages into stickered glasses. Sweet coffee scents evoked authenticity.

No sloppiness. Fluid teamwork, minimal glances needed.

For school fest, overkill.

For budgeted class, stellar.

No gimmick vibe; genuine dedication shone in details.

...Why though?

Answer struck instant.

Hence the all-in on maid café absurdity.

And reflecting—Leo enabled part of it.

He’d aided.

His fixes birthed these joys.

Mind wandered: classmates’ costume panic... haunted test plea... praise-triggered waterworks...

Unseen warmth bloomed inside.

Leo fisted his hand, unease rising—fearful of the cozy pang defying explanation.

Leo scooted his chair—

"Your order, Master!"

A dish halted him, materializing.

Alongside the punchable mug he’d eyed.

"Nathan."

Nathan loomed suited, grinning idiotically downward.

"So?" he beamed.

"Impressed? Our class nailed it, huh?"

His delight disarmed Leo’s barbs. Glancing at parfait.

"...Yeah," Leo conceded.

"Impressive."

"There—today you won’t rain on—" Nathan paused.

"Eh? Hold up. Say that again?"

He stilled, eyes bulging.

Leo glared upward.

"I said the café—dumb as it is—is impressive."

Nathan’s joy morphed concern. Tone softened infuriatingly.

"Leo... you okay?" Nathan probed.

"Sick?"

Leo reclined, dodging Nathan’s inspection lean.

"Pale," Nathan noted.

"What’s up?"

"I’m fine," Leo bit out.

"Butt out."

"Fat chance."

Leo clenched jaws. Prolonging fed Nathan; pivot time.

"Where’s Lea?"

"Lea?" Nathan echoed, caught off-guard. Leo nodded.

"Heard crowds buzzed for her maid look," Leo scanned.

"She’s missing."

Nathan offered a sheepish grin.