With a title that summons up thoughts of other infamous maid focused shows such as He Is My Master and a premise which seems ripe to follow in the lusty sexualisation of maids demonstrated so keenly by other series, Kaichou wa Maid-sama! does not seemed primed for success. Surprising then that the opening three episodes are so superbly proportioned - often amusing, sometimes touching but always great fun. Its greatest triumph though is not the feministic duality of a strong-minded school girl with a subservient part-time job, or a protagonist with genuine and affecting reasons for her quiddities, but how expertly it demystifies maid cafés: turning them from restaurants of desire into just another workplace. It's hard to imagine the remainder of the series will sputter when the pace and quality of its beginning is so capable.

Misaki Ayuzawa lives with her peculiar younger sister and frail mother in a decrepit house - surviving day-to-day after her father disappeared, saddling the family with a large debt. To make up for the loss of income, Misaki took a job in a maid café in a neighbouring town, working whenever she can - including after school where she has risen through grit and determination to become a much respected student council president. As one of only a few girls in the recently boys-only school she is fiercely competitive and is known throughout the student body as strict and unyielding. That is until a handsome and capricious boy, Takumi Usui, discovers her occupation as a maid, threatening to undermine the position she built for herself at school. Takumi is not all that he seems however and despite others finding out her profession, her secret remains safe for the time being.

Misaki's introduction is not the most flattering, pitching her as a domineering busy-body keen to quash any male tomfoolery that may cross her path - aided by frequent fantasies and a barrage of miscellaneous text labels that blossom throughout. Transforming those formative impressions into sympathy is the first bait-and-switch the opening episodes orchestrate. Contextualising her misandry by rooting it in her father's disappearing act is expertly done and her competitiveness growing from being both the primary breadwinner of her household and also being surrounded by a proliferation of males whom she likely feels are judging her. The next deliberate switch up is moulding Takumi, who has the looks and poise of a genre-typical pretty-boy, into one of the most intriguing and mysterious characters in the series so far. His overtures towards Misaki obvious but his motives unknown; at times he is presented as a typical spoiled, rich child, while at others more understanding and knowledgeable of Misaki's situation than could be entirely inferred. One can only see trauma ahead if his feelings become mutual and Misaki's myriad issues come to the fore.

Defetishising the oft lamented maid cafés is, in the opening episodes at least, a double edged sword. Pitching Misaki as a victim of circumstance and exposing the true personalities of the other employees strips the café of its mystery and turns the employees from opaque, faux-maids into simply people dressed as maids. Most telling is the omission of the café's owner, commonly personified as the flamboyantly effeminate, cross-dressing queen or harsh-faced den mother, yet the focus here is entirely on the interactions rather than the minutiae of the café itself. On the other hand, the exposure of the cafés as something not simply for the deviant or socially maligned makes them seem more accessible, even if this is done through a niche medium. To its considerable credit, no judgement is passed on the patrons; Takumi visits for access to Misaki and the three who initially bullied her become docile and frequent visitors, everyone else is a left faceless and voiceless with not even begrudging words from the employees. A far cry from the portrayal in Lucky Star which took great pains not to dispel the prevailing, almost pathetically elitist view of maid cafés.

Kaichou wa Maid-sama! is still a romantic comedy at heart and the coupling of Misaki with Takumi is obvious but, if handled with care, enough to drive the story through the remaining episodes. Misaki has all the chutzpah of Chidori from Full Metal Panic! but the limitless pathos of Mai from My-HiME and her abrasive chemistry with everyone in the series, even her two friends who are featured less than her eccentric sister, is a key to the series' success so far. The humour is sharp and though rarely rollicking is perfectly suited to the clean and effusive visuals, rendering both the frequent sparkly landscapes and exaggerated gesticulations that characterise the first three episodes. The series so far shows a lot of promise with a strong core story and a brilliant cast of characters to draw upon for the ensuing drama, only a stagnation of the protagonist's burgeoning relationship could weaken an otherwise keenly crafted offering.